#sorry for the sudden comedic shift in tone it will happen again

[potatobugz]

u understand

#hollow knight #hk #hk cloth #hk tiso #tiso hk #cloth hk #tiso #dont tag as ship please<3 #anyways. somebody get him an ibuprofen #sorry for the sudden comedic shift in tone it will happen again #tjis is. a joke. but also the implication thay hallownest bugs know what Covid Is #giggling #ok k have more coming soon holdon #potatart #hollow knight spoilers #hk spoilers

[scandalousfemale]

Ch.1 End of the World As We Know It

Chinese!OC x Kelce

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Zombies were meant for apocalyptic movies and TV shows where one could binge watch for a day and return to their mundane life. But something happened, a lab test went wrong and suddenly the outbreak started. This story takes place exactly three weeks after zombies slowly started to take over the planet. 

Series master list

WC: 3,445

Warnings: this is a zombie apocalypse fic, mentions of zombies, mentions of death, slight mention of ripping of flesh but not much, mentions of weapons!!! Knives!, mention of sewing up a wound, someone got sliced with a knife and needs to be sutured, mentions of fear

A/N: To every single person who has shown interest in this, thank you so much. Whether it’s because you were excited for a Kelce fic or you were excited for (finally) an Asian oc/face claim, just know that your support kept me writing this. I loved every second of writing this first chapter, it’s one of the first, in a while, that came really easily to me and I am so in love with the characters already. Again, thank you so much for your support and your feedback. You all keep me going. Now, please, jump into this AU with caution. Some might not make it out.

It is widely believed that right before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Kaili wondered, sitting in the empty and dark pharmacy by herself, if her cousin was granted that mercy. She can still hear the echoes of Wei’s piercing scream, forever haunted by the thought that maybe she could’ve done something to save her. But she couldn’t have. And there was no way that her death could’ve been peaceful enough to collect a couple of seconds to remind her of a life before this.

Hell, it was hard for Kaili to remember a life before this. The scattered news reports said that this outbreak had started about two or three weeks ago— she’s lost count, that there had been a mistake. The labs were trying to test out a new vaccine, one that could cure people of any potential virus that would have affected the human race and become the next pandemic, but something had gone wrong. Though she didn’t trust the reporters to tell the public much of the truth to begin with, the people have been saying that the virus had begun in New York, where scientists were trying to inject an gene editor into the bloodstream. It was supposed to make the recipient stronger and their immune system more durable for whatever that came their way. In a way, it did. When the first volunteer died, their body carried on living...lunging forward, biting, and passing on the mutant gene to anyone else who had gotten bit. 

That brings us to the problem at hand and why Kaili was trying to silently mourn the loss of her family as her backpack full of first aids and snacks were flushed against the wall behind her. She had seen the news of the outbreak on her campus TV and gotten in the car, headed straight for her family. She was just hoping that they wouldn’t have been freaking out, seeing as it would be easy to panic when all they saw were images of people ripping each other’s face off and they don’t understand the language very well

Kaili is first generation American, stemming from Chinese immigrant parents. They worked so hard to make sure that she never had a want for anything that she truly needed but in doing so, they’ve neglected a lot of their own necessities. When she was smaller, she’d ask them for seconds and they would make sure that she’d be full, even if that meant that she ate their food. Of course, once she caught on, she’d stopped asking, even sometimes putting more on her parents plate than her own. 

The feeling of her heart thumping fast in her chest when she saw her house lingered in her still. The anxiety never really rid itself from her. The images of her parents crouched on the front lawn, devouring her aunt and uncle in law still flashed in her head. She didn’t even have time to cry when her cousin, Wei, jumped into her car and told her that she heard it was safer if they started going down south. As long as they got away from the epicenter that is New York. Both girls didn’t have a chance to grieve their parents until they were out of Maryland and on the way to Florida. 

Of course, they never made it that far. They’d spent a week holed up in an underground parking lot, just processing the information. Looking up the news until their phones ran out of battery. Some days the girls barely spoke to each other, they’d just share a knowing look, a touch that would let the other know that the pain was acknowledged but they wouldn’t speak much of it.

Then, when they started to slowly come out of grief and into self preservation, they started on their trip again. Which wasn’t exactly easy. Of course, cars needed gas and people— the living, needed food and sleep. So, even on their journey, they were forced to stop. Sometimes they’d meet others along the way, especially those who swarmed the grocery stores and took everything that their arms could carry but most times it still felt like a normal day. There were people who believed that it was just an isolated incident in an isolated state.

When they reached South Carolina though, it felt like a ghost town. They’d decided to go to a grocery store and usually they were good at their surroundings but maybe the town just felt too safe. Too...empty. Wei walked in without being careful and the flesh eating monsters heard the bell of the door. They’d swarmed her before she even got the chance to pull out her weapon.

Kaili didn’t like sleeping anymore because of that. She doesn’t even remember screaming at the sight but she must’ve because the attention was suddenly drawn on her. And so she ran to the closest empty shop she could find and she’s been stuck here for the past two days.

She’d cried. A lot. She cried so hard that she became tired but she wouldn’t allow herself to sleep, pulling energy drinks from the fridge from the drug store, not like it helped. It’s funny how trauma has a way of taking care of you against your own wishes. Her body had shut down on her and she fell asleep on her pharmacy’s floor. Even if only for a little bit, she woke up only to sob again, knowing that she wouldn’t exactly get far on her own and even if she did, she wouldn’t really know where she’d end up. 

She had forced herself to stay hydrated and eat, even when she didn’t want to. Even when the look of some consistency of food made her vomit because it reminded her of the flesh that the monsters outside the doors would eat, she knew that she had to keep her energy up for when she was ready to make the move. Needless to say, she was scared. She’d never faced one of these creatures alone before but now, she figured it wouldn’t be as different as when Wei and her used to kill them together. She just doesn’t have anyone watching her back this time.

On the afternoon of the second day in hiding, the sound of glass shattering pulled her out of her self pity and planning. She had quickly crawled and hid behind a medicine cabinet, listening for who’d broken into her sanctuary.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think the entire Charleston has heard you, JJ, can you do that a bit louder?” An annoyed female voice hissed.

Great, Kaili thought to herself, I guess dying by the hands of humans might be better than being ripped to pieces. She’d run into other humans before, some nice and others not but in a deserted town like this where not even one car is in sight, she’d doubt that this group of people were all too friendly. 

“Can you two just shut up and fill the bags?” A gruff male voice spoke before sounds of bottles rattling on top of each other filled the space.

While trying to pay attention to the noise and the people in front of her, she had forgotten to check behind her, used to having Wei be there. A rookie mistake.

“What do we have here?” A blond man spoke from behind her. He couldn’t have been older than nineteen years old, yet his cold eyes told a story only that of someone who’d seen too much can tell. Then again, she supposed they’ve all seen too much at this point.

Before she could even register his words and answer them, she’d pull the knife from the band on her thigh, instinct took over. The boy jolted backwards, knocking over the medicine shelf behind him.

“Whoa, there little lady,” the startled boy shifted his eyes around the room, relaxing when his friends came to stand by him. She was outnumbered and though one to three wasn’t that bad of a fight, she didn’t want to take the risk, especially after seeing the man stood by the blond. He towered all three of them.

“Are you alone?” The female spoke, a softness in her tone that Kaili hasn’t heard since the outbreak had started.

Instinct told her to lie but what was the point? So, she nodded once.

“Do you speak English?” The tall boy asked, which earned him a scowl from Kaili and a scoff from the girl next to him.

“She literally just responded to me when I spoke to her, what kind of a dumb ass question is that, Rafe?”

Okay, so the tall one was called Rafe, that means the blond had to be JJ, Kaili inspected them, eyeing their clothes and their weapons— or lack thereof.

“She’s just staring and I don’t know whether to be turned on or creeped out,” JJ said, caught in the middle of the two glaring at each other. A comedic relief, of course.

“I can speak English,” Kaili said, her voice coming off tense and dry. After all, she hadn’t used it in two days except to sob, and even then, she tried to cry in silence.

“Sorry, we’re so rude,” the female shook her head before she stepped forward as Kaili stepped back, not expecting the sudden movement, but the girl in front of her acted like she didn’t notice. Her smile was warm, her age probably mirroring that of the blond.

“My name’s Kiara,” her hand still outstretched as Kaili switched her blade to her other hand and took it cautiously, “this here is JJ,” she pointed to the blond as he flashed his canine at her in a smile that had a deadly edge to it.

“And that’s Rafe,” she pointed at the tall man who seems to be a little older than the rest of them, maybe a little bit closer to Kaili’s twenty-three. 

“I’m Kaili.”

A beat passed, where no one moved or had said anything and Kaili strapped the blade back to the outside of her thigh, alongside the others.

It was as if the group had seen her for the first time and she wondered what that sight must’ve looked like to them because to her, it would seem like she’s a broken little girl playing dress up. 

“Wait, you know how to fight?” JJ asked, not hiding the shock in his voice had he eyed her weapons. 

“I know how to survive,” she shrugged. She had a small obsession with switchblades when she was younger, that had turned into a throwing knives obsession but when it came to shooting or fist fighting? She was at a loss. 

They eyed her clothes. Black pants with a weapons belt wrapped around her hips and down her thighs. Her black long sleeve shirt was tucked neatly into the waistband. She looked like a mercenary and it was all thanks to Wei. The day of the zombie attack was Wei’s birthday and so she was stuck in her birthday dress for days before the younger girl made it a mission to raid an abandoned store for some new clothes. Something about how it’s not practical fighting in a skirt, no matter what comic book says. She used to laugh at the thought but thinking about it now hurts her. 

“Do you know…” Kiara began to ask before Rafe put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head but she only gave him a desperate glance.

“No,” the boy pulled at her but JJ broke his grasp, standing in between them, as if he was protecting Kiara from a potential threat.

“Do you want him to die?” Kiara grit through her teeth from behind JJ. 

“We don’t know her, do you want to die?” Rafe hissed back. 

“We don’t exactly have a choice.”

And so they continued their whispered argument and Kaili pretended not to hang on to every word, when she'd heard enough, she had responded to the question that hadn’t been asked.

“I know first aid, well, a little more than first aid. My mom is a doctor,” a lump formed in her throat when she realized what she had said, “was a doctor,” she corrected herself.

“Then it’s settled,” Kiara spoke, “we will allow you to join our group if you can help our friend. He’s suffering from a knife wound to his abdomen, it’s deep. He’ll need stitches, maybe. I don’t know. We’ve been using cotton and tape for now but he’s losing blood and color and let's be honest, we don’t know anything about what kind of equipment or medicine we need. So, can you help us?” She said with a desperate tinge in her tone.

Kaili had never been so grateful in her life that she had suffered from wounds before from playing rough until her mother had gotten so upset that she’d learn to dress her own mistakes.

“Depending on how much blood he’s lost and if the wound is infected, I can help,” Kaili responded as she went around the pharmacy, getting everything that she thought she’d needed. After about five minutes, she’d met them at the front of the door with six plastic bags.

“In case someone else gets hurt,” was her explanation for the bags. JJ laughed, muttering something about liking her already as he took some bags off of her hands and they walked out of the shop.

Rafe stalked ahead of them, a gun in his hands, as Kiara fell in line with Kaili.

“Thank you, again for this. I know you don’t know us and you could have said no. So, even if that one,” she nodded at Rafe, “isn’t going to say it, just know that we are grateful.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I don’t even know if I can save your friend,” Kaili’s reply was short but not harsh, as she wasn’t trying to be rude. She just meant to be truthful. 

Rounding the corner, a van came into sight. No scratch that, it can’t even be considered that, it was more like a tour bus.

“Topper and his theatrics,” Kiara explained, as if Kaili would know what a Topper is, when she saw the girl’s eyes widen, “Gretchen Wilson was having a concert when everything had gone down. I guess they all died or something because her bus was left behind, with a full tank of gas and water, I might add.” 

Kaili just nodded, a loss for words as she followed them to the bus and then up the stairs to the inside of this luxury transportation. She couldn’t believe it. She took a quick glance around the space noting the kitchen, beds, tv, and bathroom but the most important thing she noted was that there were more people than the group who came and got her. She expected maybe one extra person, of course, the one who was hurt. Not six more people. Kiara had locked the door behind her and suddenly, Kaili was feeling a little bit less comfortable.

“I thought I told you not to pick up any strays,” a voice called from the driver’s seat. An older looking blond boy with blue eyes had faced her.

“Chill out, Top, she’s here to help,” Kiara defended her as JJ called out from somewhere in the bus, “and she can fight!”

That didn’t stop Topper from eyeing her once more before starting the car up again. Rafe had gone up front to Topper and another male, one who barely gave her a glance.

Finally, a boy appeared from the bathroom, looking disheveled and covered in sweat. Yes, she could see it now. He did lose a bit of blood.

Another boy, she later found out his name was Pope, had laid a towel on the floor for the injured boy, John B, to lay on top of. Introductions were rapid before JJ laid the bags on the floor next to her.

Kaili had put on gloves and when she lifted his shirt, she grimaced at the sight. Someone had decided to wrap duct tape on his wound and she prayed that there was a protective layer between the tape and the injury or else there was a risk that she’d open the wound and start the bleeding all over again if it hadn’t already stopped. Muttering a round of sorry’s she was able to breathe again when she saw that there was, in fact, a cloth in between and that his wound had already begun to clot. 

After advising him to eat some food and take pain relief medicine, she began cleaning out the wound, in which John B had let out a whole plethora of curse words at the girl anyway and even more so when she started suturing the cut. She hadn’t noticed the audience that she had attracted, nor that the bus had stopped again, until she had finally wrapped a flexible gauze around his middle and pulled the gloves from her hand.

Putting all of her used equipment into a plastic cup, she then handed it over to a beaming and smiling Kiara who’d thrown it away for her. Then John B was quickly taken back to the end of the bus, to a bigger bed, by a girl named Sarah who’d thanked her endlessly.

— 

After a nicer round of introductions, except for one, she found out that Rafe was actually related to Sarah and that they both had another sibling in this bus who’s name is Wheezie. She tried not to laugh at that. Sarah was dating John B, who were best friends with JJ, Kiara, and Pope. Pope knew a whole lot about dead bodies and he was always reading up on the news. Then there was Topper, who was the main driver, who was also friends with Rafe and the guy who liked to keep to himself mostly. Though Kiara did mention that the guy, Kelce, isn’t usually like this but that it was hard for him to see siblings who made it out together when he didn’t. Kaili didn’t ask for her to elaborate since it wasn’t Kiara’s pain to share.

She got all of that before they asked her if she wanted to use the shower, which she jumped at the chance to. She couldn’t help but feel a little sad though, that Wei wasn’t here to experience this with her. After a quick wash, rinse, cry, and repeat. She pulled her “I heart North Carolina” over sized T-shirt over the biker shorts she took from a store and willed herself out of the bathroom. Fighting the urge to crawl into her bunk and call it a night when a group of them asked her to join them for a movie night as Kiara fixed up dinner with Topper. 

She looked around this group of people, crammed into a stolen bus and she wondered who they really were, what their story was. They didn’t seem like they’d be friends outside of this situation but honestly she didn’t want to ask and they weren’t very keen in sharing, not that she’d mind because she wasn’t jumping at the chance to talk about her life before this mess either.

“Hey,” the boy who didn’t pay her a single speck of attention all day, sat across the way from her. She’d only nodded to him as a response, unable to turn her gaze back to the DVD now that his was on hers. “I’m Kelce,” he offered his hand to her and unlike earlier, she took it immediately.

“Kaili,” she'd said softly but she was sure he’d already known that, if not for Sarah saying it in between her thank you’s, then because of JJ insisting he was the one who had brought her back for his friend. Speaking of which, JJ had strutted out of the bathroom, shaking his wet hair at both of them, causing them to unlock their hands and gaze from the other. She couldn’t help but laugh at his childish antics. He had dropped to the spot next to her and extended his arm over the edge of the seat behind them as he settled in to watch the movie. Though she tried to get back into the actors on the screen, she couldn’t help but notice that Kelce’s eyes kept coming back to her, like hers did for him. It was as if he wanted to say something to her or maybe he wasn’t comfortable with her intruding into his space.

No, she definitely didn’t know what she was getting into.

tags: @rafecameron​ @millyelliot​ @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar​ @sortagaysortahigh​ @stfukie​ @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless​ @outerbankslut​ @thegreatestofheck​ @starlightstarkey​ @stargazingstarkey​ @anxietyandtacos​ @spideymyluv​ @pogue-writings​ @bedazzledbanks​ @pankowrudeth​ @bricksatanakinswindow​

#kelce outer banks #kelce fic #outer banks fic #outer banks au #LIAB

[jarchivist]

Sound

My Reddie fix-it fit because fuck ur canon Stephen.

Read on AO3 here!!

Sound.

It was sudden, soft, and comforting; Almost as though it was bursting through a deep darkness that Eddie had found himself trapped in. It was something he felt as though he hadn't experienced in a while - A faint voice came through the ring in his ears. What were they saying? He could barely make anything out. The words sounded jumbled and muffled, and - Why couldn't he make his eyes open? Why couldn't he move? Everything hurt. Where was he? His home? A hotel? Somewhere with Myra?

Derry.

Memories rushed into his mind as he struggled to open his eyes. He had come back to Derry. Mike Hanlon had called, and they — They had all come back together. The Loser Club. They had Chinese food and drinks. They reminisced and laughed and joked and shouted — The fortune cookies.

Pennywise.

Eddie felt his breath catch in his throat, but something kept it steady. Was something helping him breathe? His chest ached. Why did it hurt so badly? He was vaguely aware of tubes and wires and the pressure on his chest. But why the hell were they in him? Why were there so many things poking at him? Damn, why did it hurt?

Richie.

Pennywise had him caught in those lights. The deadlights. He couldn't break out of it. He was dangling limply in the air, his eyes blank, staring into nothingness. The fence post. 'It kills monsters if you believe it does.' The words Beverly had spoken to him echoed in the swirl of memories filling his head. He had to do something. Eddie couldn't let Richie die; He wouldn't. He threw the post, convincing himself that it would hit. He made himself believe that it would be enough to save Richie. He remembered thinking that he had done it. That everything was over. He was sure he had redeemed himself and saved everyone — Then it was dark.

Richie...

It was Richie's voice that had broken through that thick darkness. The emptiness he was feeling — the hollowness in his chest and throat. But he knew now that the words he had been hearing were Richie's. Though, there was a tone to his voice that Eddie didn't recognize. Almost a crack in and between his words.

"Eddie, please..."

It was soft. Sad. Was Richie crying? Why in the hell would Richie 'Trashmouth' Tozier be crying? No, he never cried. He cracked dirty jokes and spat on his hand then tried to rub it on your face. He was the one that always made everyone laugh. He always made Eddie laugh...

Touch.

Eddie felt a gentle warmth against his hand. Calloused fingers desperately brushed against his own. Richie's hand closed gently around his; He was shaking. "Please..." Eddie felt a shift in weight and felt a tickle of curls against his skin. Richie's forehead was pressed against his hand. "I can't lose you, dipshit. Please," he continued, a quiet whimper breaking his words. "Don't leave me again."

Richie.

That was enough to keep him grounded. Enough to force himself to pull away from the darkness; To focus on the breath filling his lungs and the steady beat of his heart. Eddie made himself listen to Richie's voice as the sound of it became more and more stifled. Behind his closed eyes, he could feel the world spinning. Where was his inhaler?

"Eds... Eddie..." A sob.

Richie...

Nothingness.

----------------

Hunger.

How long had it been since Eddie had felt hungry? Or anything, for that matter. The air around him was thick and cold, and damn did it smell horrible. But it was familiar. He had been in hospitals enough times to recognize that he was in one now. He moved. Fucking hell, he was stiff. How long had he been stuck in this place? His fingers twitched against another's hand. Callouses.

Richie?

Eddie squeezed his eyes tight before slowly opening them. The room he was in was dimly lit; Dull sounds came from the small TV hanging against the wall. He strained against the sting of air as he readjusted to sight and tilted his head just slightly enough to see the man sleeping in the chair next to his bed.

"Richie..." His voice came out as a soft hum, his throat burning with each syllable. He barely recognized it. In the pale light, he could tell that Richie hadn't shaved in a while. "Rich..."

"Nngh..." Eddie felt Richie's hand twitch against his own. "Fuck'ff... 'm stayin.." Drool ran down his chin. Eddie cringed.

"Hey... Richie..." He tried to move, every bone in his body screaming in protest, begging him to stop. With a deep, even breath, he gathered every ounce of energy he had to nudge Richie's hand off the bed. "Hey."

"AH! What the fuck!" Richie jumped three feet off of his chair, his weary eyes wide, panicked. "What..." He reached up to rub at the sleep still lingering on his face and adjusted his glasses. "E - Eddie?"

"Hey, Rich..." Eddie cracked a smile, fighting back the urge to vomit. The room felt like it was spinning.

"H - Holy fuck, Eddie!" Richie lunged forward, gently setting a shaking hand against Eddie's cheek. "Eddie! Holy shit. Holy fucking shit." He was smiling, but - Tears filled his eyes, his voice was cracking. Eddie could count on one hand how many times he'd seen him this way. Richie had always seemed unbreakable. Unwavering from his comedic front, but now - It was almost as if he didn't know what to do. His thumb rubbed quick circles into Eddie's skin. He kept rocking forward but hesitated at the last moment, like he was resisting the urge to throw himself onto the bed. "Jesus, we thought you would never wake up..." His head leaned forward, defeated. "Fuck you, man..." Eddie heard a few drops hitting the rumpled bedsheets. His hand dropped from his cheek and clenched tightly onto the hospital gown covering Eddie's weak shoulders.

"Hey," Eddie managed, shifting his head to the side to press a warm cheek to Richie's still trembling hand. "Relax..."

"Don't you fucking tell me to relax, Kaspbrak." He didn't lift his head. He barely even moved. "I thought that I -" Richie cut himself off and paused before quietly continuing, "I thought I lost you... And I - I had barely just gotten you back, dipshit..." His shoulders jerked. "I saw your stupid face in that," he scoffed and shook his head. "In that fucking nasty restaurant and I... When I remembered you - I realized that I'm fucking sick of living in a world without you and..."

Eddie felt his heart flutter, his breath leaving his lungs. Who was this man that was sitting at his bedside? He was tired and broken. He was so soft, so quiet. Eddie closed his eyes, nuzzling into Richie's fingers. He remembered when they were younger - More than once, Eddie snuck out of his house when his mother was being particularly hard on him. It was never too early or too late for him to show up at Richie's home. His parent's always welcomed him with open arms, offering anything he could need. He always appreciated their kindness but, the only thing he ever really needed was time with Richie. He smiled, remembering the countless nights they had spent hiding in Richie's bedroom, reading comics, watching stupid movies, doing homework, or just talking. They talked about everything. School, parents, music, the other losers, crushes...

Rumors.

He remembered one night in particular. One of the only times Eddie had ever seen Richie truly break - School had been rough that day. Henry Bowers was relentless, calling Richie some horrifying names, and then the rumors started circulating; And of course, being in middle school, it happened fast. Eddie could tell that it was all getting to him - Even though he insisted that it wasn't. So when he showed up at his house later that evening, he wasn't shocked to find Richie sitting at his desk with his face in his hands. He yelled and cried and hit his fists against his thighs. He didn't make one stupid joke.

They slept in the same bed that night. They held hands. Eddie vaguely remembered watching him cry himself to sleep, wishing he could do more to help.

More than once, Eddie was the one crying and yelling - More often than not, about his overbearing mother and how she had been giving him more and more medication. Things with weird side - effects now. They made him dizzy. They made him sick to his stomach. So maybe the pills had never been placebos in the first place... But no matter how upset, no matter how sick he got, Richie always brought him back from it. So -

"I - Richie..." Eddie closed his eyes. What in the hell was he supposed to say to that? 'Oh yeah! Sure, sure! I'm sick of that too! Let's get fucking married!' Holy fuck, he needed some pain killers. He could tell him that everything was okay; That he was okay, and that it was all over. He could tell Richie that his voice was what anchored him to this absolute shitstain of a life he had been living - But all he could manage was, "I'm sorry."

"What the fuck are you sorry for?" Richie snapped, almost offended. "You have nothing to be sorry for." He had lifted his head, eyes puffy and red.

Eddie blinked, "I -" and stopped.

"If it weren't for you, I would be dead," hesitation. "We'd all be dead, Eds."

Was that true, though? Eddie had also almost gotten Richie killed and... He grimaced. It was a memory he wished he could forget. "...Don't fucking call me that."

"Man shut the fuck up." Richie smiled, Eddie grinned. He had gotten what he wanted. "I am trying to have a touching moment with my best friend that almost fucking died. Like twelve times. Let me call you Eds."

"Better than fucking 'Eddie Spaghetti...'" Eddie smiled and tilted his head downwards to avert his gaze, but it wasn't lost on him what it did to Richie's attitude. He saw him choke on a bit of a sob, then hide it with a laugh. "Don't laugh at me, I'm fucking right." He raised a brow, waiting for the snarky reply or another silly nickname - But it was silent for a moment before Richie spoke again.

"Don't... Don't distract me, you piece of shit." Richie reached out and grabbed Eddie's hand, holding it tight in his own. "I have to get this out now before I lose my fucking nerve and end up having to wait another 27 damn years."

Oh, God.

"I almost lost my chance, okay?" Richie's face tensed. Eddie could tell he was fighting off tears again. "I don't want to lose you. I can't. I don't know what the fuck I would do." He tilted his head, forcing their eyes to meet. Eddie could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks.

'For fuck's sake, Eddie, you're 40 years old. Stop acting like a fucking school girl.' He bit his lip, waiting for Richie to continue.

"If you had died, Eds - I... I don't think I would have been far behind."

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, the breath leaving his lungs. "Don't - Don't say that -"

"I'm a little bitch, Eds. I wouldn't have been able to last without you. Not after remembering all these fucking..." He chuckled to himself. "Do you remember the kissing bridge?"

"How could I not?" Eddie smiled, letting his fingers lace together with Richie's. "You got shit on by a bird on that bridge," his smile faded, "and then you tried to wipe it on me. Fucking asshole."  

"Would you expect anything less of me?" He shrugged. "If I recall correctly, you kicked me in the shin, so I'd say we're even."

"Even?! You wiped bird shit on my fucking face! I should have kicked you in the di -!" Eddie cringed, gripping at his stomach. "Jesus fuck..." He closed his eyes tight, then leaned his head back against the pillow. There were eyes on him.

"Eddie..?" Richie's voice dropped, his fingers brushing against Eddie's pale arm. "Hey, I'm trying to fucking confess here, don't go... Don't crash on me... Eddie."

Eddie could hear the panic in Richie's voice. He needed to pull himself together. "I'm fine, Rich. Stop worrying so damn much." He opened his eyes; a soft smile spread over his lips. Richie looked so tired... "Listen -" He stopped and broke the gaze between them, reaching up to grab Richie's hand. It was so familiar in his own - It was just like when they were kids, though much bigger now. Eddie's lithe fingers laced through Richie's clumsier ones. "Why... Don't you try and get some sleep?"

Richie stayed quiet for a moment, his eyes focused on their entwined fingers. He tightened his grip, trying desperately to hold himself together. "This fucked me up, man..."

"I -" A pause. "I'm sorry."

"You should be Goddammit." Richie's eyes stayed focused on their hands, but Eddie could feel the tears stinging them. "I... I almost lost my," A pause. "I almost lost my fucking chance to tell you and..."

"Richie." Eddie shook their hands, trying to break him from his daze. What he said next shocked him. It was nothing but word vomit, and he was surprised his pride didn't get in the way. Maybe it was something induced by the insane amount of drugs running through his system. Perhaps it was real vomit? "Shut the fuck up and stop being a damn coward. Fucking do it."

Oh, God.

Sound.

The chair Richie had been sitting on screeched against the ground, and there was a new weight against Eddie's chest. He hadn't even seen him move. He barely noticed Richie's hand leaving his own.

Touch.

Richie's lips pressed desperately into Eddie's. They were chapped, thirsty, sad, tired. A hint of cigarettes lingered for a moment before he stopped caring. They kissed for seconds, minutes, an eternity, making up for so many lost years. Eddie's stomach ached, his muscles screamed in protest but -

Richie.

"It's about fucking time," a voice came from the doorway.

Richie fell back into the chair, wires tangled around his arm. "JESUS CHRIST, MAN." His face was burning red, Eddie's head buried in his pillow.

"When were you going to come and tell the rest of us that he was awake?" Stanley leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, brow raised.

"Fuck you, man. Do you have any fucking idea how long I've waited to do that?" Richie stood, a finger pointing accusingly in Stan's direction.

Stanley grinned. "Yes. I have. You were 12 when you started pining. So what? You're 41 now... That's 29 years?"

#reddie #Richie tozier #Eddie kaspbrak #it chapter 2 #fix it

[trvelyans-archive]

so i tried my hand at writing some fallen hero fic !!! i'm not as well versed in the lore as i'd like to be so if there are any canon or continuity errors then please let me know because that'd be horribly embarrassing for me :) it's supposed to be a few weeks after sidestep and ortega's beach Date at the beginning of retribution so ! if you haven't gotten that far than read at your own risk !!! i hope y'all enjoy !

-

Across from them, the hot evening sun sinks below the churning ocean that borders Los Diablos. It's like a painting, almost, something that'd be in an art gallery somewhere downtown - the clouds in the sky dyed bright red and orange by the light that plays across the enormous waves, boats dotting said waves here and there, little flashes of yellow and white lights against the blackness of the water. The scene looks much calmer than it really is - a heavy wind blows across the rooftop, whipping up the collar of Ortega's blazer and Mina's jacket, yet not even rustling what little hair she has left as they stand in still-tense silence.

He was, almost comedically, shocked into silence when he saw her shaved head for the first time earlier that day. Even now, hours later, when he looks over at her, his eyes widen in confusion before a few seconds pass, and he looks at her with, well, still confusion, but relatively less so. He barely recognizes her at a glance, but... well, that's Mina for you.

Ortega is the first of them to clear his throat, because he knows she would rather throw herself off the roof than talk first.

"Remind me again why you cut your hair?" he asks with as much of a laugh as he can manage, reaching out tentatively to touch her head.

They stand closer together than he expected she would let them. He can never tell what's hot and what's cold with her, and he can never tell what she's going to do to him when he tries to be affectionate - standing on the roof, he half-expects her to whirl around and shoot him a death glare before his hand even breaches the metaphorical bubble of her personal space. She doesn't, however, thankfully. Maybe she bristles, but she does not bite.

She does, to his vague chagrin, cross her arms over her chest, shifting her weight from one foot to the other while he runs his palm over the crown of her scalp. "Are you saying it looks bad?" she says, her tone teasing despite the low volume.

He does laugh, this time, enjoying the prickly feeling of her hair under his hand. "Well, you've looked worse," he retorts.

She does glare at him, this time, but it doesn't last. Instead, when he cups the back of her head and gently leads her closer to him, her expression softens. "Says you," she says almost warmly, untucking a hand from where she had shoved it in her armpit and offering a half-assed point in the direction of his moustache - the one he's trying to grow back, of course, however slowly.

"I still can't believe you don't like it!" Ortega bemoans dramatically, though he half means it.

"It makes you look old," Mina shoots back, the telltale traces of a smile on her face as she fiddles with a hangnail. "Sorry - it makes you look as old as you are."

He rolls his eyes, running his hand along the slope of her neck into her shoulder, settling just above her collarbone. "Says you," he tells her softly, jerking his head in the direction of her head. "You're balding already, and at the ripe old age of thirty, too. What a shame."

"So you don't like it, then?"

He pauses for a moment, hesitating, and then he takes a step closer - well, more of a shuffle, really, with how short and anti-climactic it is. "I think that your hair isn't the reason I like you, so I don't really care."

She looks up at him. He can never believe how small she is for someone so powerful, so strong - it always throws him off-guard, how much he towers over her. It makes him want to hold her close, to kiss her. Not that he didn't already, but he wants to more, now.

He admires her so much - he always has. She never takes credit for her power, never owns up to her strength - she does what needs to be done because it does, and that's enough. He's always lov- liked that about her. It's what makes Mina Mina.

But he wishes, sometimes, that she'd treat herself as special as he does. Because she deserves it, he thinks, and she doesn't even know. Not that he isn't content doing it for her until she does. He is.

"Ricardo?"

He comes back to reality with a jump, scared by the sudden roughness of her voice. "Yes?" he asks innocently, raising his other hand to match the position of the first, drawing her closer by the collar of her camoflage-patterned jacket.

"Are you going to stand there or are you going to kiss me?"

He already knows that something must have happened to prompt the sudden change of hairstyle. She must still be sensitive, or otherwise she wouldn't have been so forthright with him about kissing her, something she normally dances around - well, marches around, more like, so strict and stoic as per usual. He chuckles, then, but it's quiet, and he draws her even closer, looking down into her eyes, wide and black, rimmed with thick, heavy eyelashes and fluttering.

He does kiss her, after a few seconds of deliberation, bending his head so low he feels something in his neck crack but he pushes out of the back of his mind for now, and all he focuses on is Mina - the sound of her boots scratching against the uneven cement of the roof as she stands on her tip-toes to reach his lips in return, the gentle huff she lets out as their mouths meet, the way her hands flatten again his chest and then shift so she can grab bunches of his blazer in her fist, as if there's any distance left between them to close.

When he pulls away, it takes everything in him not to kiss her again - her eyes are still closed, lips still pursed, and she is, though he'd never try to tell her and she'd never even believe it, beautiful.

He cups her cheek, running his thumb over smooth skin for once not covered in scratches and scrapes (though ones from the past have left scars in their wake), trying to decide if he'd be embarrassed or not when she feels how fast his heart is beating.

"Ricardo..."

She still hasn't opened her eyes. She's rooted to her spot, unmoving, waiting for him, again, to make the first move. Slowly, and looking out for any hint of apprehension, he leans forward and kisses her again, the brush of his lips so light and gentle he might not have even really kissed her at all.

"Mina," he whispers with a crooked smile, "you're killing me."

At that, her eyes snap open as if he woke her up from a trance, and he steps back, hands raised in defense. "Did I say something?" he says questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

"No," she answers curtly, shaking her head, reaching up to brush hair out of her eyes that isn't there. "I just... I need to go, Ricardo. Ortega."

She starts off towards the door of the roof, and it takes a second for him to register what's happening. Things were going so well not even a full minute ago, and now she's walking away from him, and now, if things couldn't get any worse, he can feel it beginning to rain. "What?" he utters finally, shaking his head, taking off after her and barely managing to snag her arm before she reaches the door. "Mina, hang on."

She turns around, still so small but somehow more intimidating than few things Ortega has faced before. "Remind me again why you asked me up here?" she says quietly.

"Because, I..." He closes his mouth, clenching his jaw as he thinks. There's always been something between them, but the feelings he has for her now, after their kiss in the hospital, after their kisses following the hospital, after everything, feel almost out of control, and it nearly makes him sick thinking that he might've ruined things between them when they've barely even started and when he's liked her for so, so long. So he looks at her sadly, honestly, giving her as much of a smile as he can muster. "I wanted to see you, Mina."

He doesn't know why this still takes her aback, but it does, though her shock quickly turns into annoyance. No, not annoyance. Not anger, either. Maybe it's guilt. Maybe it's the hot sting of regret as she visibly forces herself to pull her arm out of his grasp.

"Now you've seen me," she murmurs. "And I need to go, so... Goodbye, Ricardo. Ortega."

As Mina pushes the door open, Ortega takes a few steps back, hands on his hips. "I'll phone you!" he calls out after her as the door begins to squeal shut. At her silence, he adds, "Or... Text you!"

The door slams so loud that it shakes the frame, and he's left alone on the roof as, all at once, it starts pouring.

#hehehehe..... so.......... i hope this works with canon #if it doesn't i will Cry bc i really like it #also i hope i wrote ortega well !!! sorry if i didn't #idk i liked the idea of him being shook when mina shaves her head in retribution.... it's Cute #anyway i'll shut up now but they're in love babie Deal Wid It #sidestep x ortega #sidestep/ortega #my writing #my ocs #long post #SORRY im tagging this as long post bc i have no way to add read more on mobile bc it Doesnt Work uwu #chargestep #fallen hero fanfic #fallen hero rebirth #fallen hero retribution #mina wen

[heavenzfiend]

Fanfic: Gifts from Lord Shigezane (Fujibayashi Genya x MC)- SLBP

Read on AO3

Word count: ~3700

Warning: LEMON! food kink, bondage, feathers, tittyfuck, etc.

Summary: When presented with small gifts from Lord Shigezane upon his return from Date clan’s falconry session, MC is about to find out what a creative man her lover is.

Author’s Note: I feel like I went overboard with this one and was thoroughly embarrassed while writing *runs and hides.* I hope you enjoy Genya and MC’s crazy sexcapades!

MC put weight on one foot and then another while waiting by the castle gates for the Date figureheads and their entourage to return from their falconry session. MC glanced at Genya who was leaning against the wall, eyes closed and head bobbing every once in a while.

Was he seriously sleeping while standing up right now?

“Gen! Don’t fall asleep on me!” she playfully slapped his arm and then shook his arm with both hands in a comedic, exaggerated attempt to rouse the ever-tired ninja.

“Yeah yeah… I don’t know why they made me come all the way here… pwaghhhh,” he gave a loud yawn, his eyes still half-closed.

Just then, their ears picked up on a distant chorus of hooves sauntering against the dirt path.

“I see them!” MC’s face brightened while squeezing his arm in excitement.

“Finally,” he commented, the affectionate pet on top of her head contrasting the dull tone of his voice.

The pointed tops of straw hats dipped in tune with the horses, revealing Masamune, Kojuro, and Shigezane leading the crew in their majestic gear of bow and arrow and a fierce, caged falcon. The trio slowed as they approached the waiting pair, allowing their retainers to pass by as they mounted down.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, doll!” Shigezane gave a wide smile. “I only managed to land two small rabbits today but Masamune is a much better falconer than I am! You should’ve seen him in action.”

“Oh, that’s great milords!” MC beamed at all three of them, earning a shy blush and a look away from Masamune.

“So, why did you want us to come here anyways?” Genya cut in, clearly uninterested in the topic. The ever-cheery lord of Omori produced an elaborate lacquer box, tied securely with a decorative hemp rope and topped with a single falcon feather. He pressed the box into the confused MC’s hands.

“We had leftover zunda mochi from the outing and wanted to share with you guys. Have you tried zunda mochi yet, MC?”

“No, milord. I heard that it’s popular here?”

“You heard right. Well, we have an excellent cook at our castle who makes the best ones so I figured this will be a good opportunity for you to try some. Here, I found this falcon feather too and I’m sure you’ll find a good use for it.”

“Thank you for your consideration, Lord Shigezane,” MC gratefully tucked the box to her chest. She wasn’t very knowledgeable about desserts in general, being a ninja, much less tried a specialty dessert of Oshu. Genya’s eyes swept over the contents of the gift and the corner of his mouth twitched inconspicuously. He looked up at Shigezane who happened to be looking back at him, no verbal words exchanged between the two but each holding the other’s gaze for some reason.

“There will be a feast tonight in celebration of the successful hunt.” Kojuro prompted while addressing the couple, pausing to give an opportunity for his liege lord to continue.

“You two can join us if you want, but I won’t force you,” Masamune offered an open invitation.

“Thanks Masamune, but I’ll pass. I’ve got everything I want to eat right here.” He had a cheeky grin plastered to his face as he pointed his chin in MC’s direction. Shigezane was thoroughly intrigued to say the least and Kojuro was red with fury at his lack of respect for their liege lord, especially in a place where others could overhear, while Masamune was red for a whole different reason.

MC wondered if Genya had a special love for zunda mochi, if that’s all he wanted to eat. She cocked her head to give a curious look to her lover while the amused ninja took her hand and whisked her away from the other men.

--------------

As soon as they got situated at home, MC plucked the feather from the intricate tie, twirled it around in the air a few times before putting it on the floor, attention shifting to the box.

“I wonder how zunda mochi tastes like!” she untied and opened the lacquer box with a childlike giddiness swimming in her shining eyes. Her eyes widened at the sight of food she’s never laid eyes on before— the heaping mound of vibrant green, mashed soybeans smothering the white rice cake underneath.

Genya wrapped his arms around her from behind, planting a kiss on her temples before peering over her head at the container. “Try it,” he suggested, sliding around to face her. MC gingerly took a piece between her fingers and popped it into her mouth. The subtle sweetness on her tongue instantly spread throughout her mouth, the hint of soybean flavor hitting her nose more profoundly the more she chewed the mochi. In short, it was delicious.

“Ah, Gen, no wonder you like this stuff! It’s so good!” MC said while looking at her sticky fingers.

Before she registered what was happening, Genya took her hand and lifted it to his mouth. “Who said anything about liking it?” Without breaking eye contact, his pink tongue slowly ran along from her knuckle all the way to the tip of her index finger, lapping up the sweet residue from her thumb and index finger before fully sucking on her fingertip.

“Mmm! Gen…” MC’s eyes glazed over as all heat rushed to her face. His ministrations were nothing short of erotic but his usual actions reeked of sexual confidence that she wasn’t sure if she was reading too into things now due to certain needs of hers. She had to regain control of the situation somehow. Releasing a small cough while tugging back her hand, she said, “We only have a container of zunda mochi, are you sure this is enough for you?”

“Don’t worry, you’re my main course.” Surely that can’t be anything but pure seduction? Seeing the hesitation clouded with lust in her eyes, he asked, “Do you trust me?”

“Of course, silly. You already know,” she answered with zero qualms, her big, honest eyes warming his entire being. He responded with a laugh.

“Aaa, I do know but I had to double check, you see,” his eyes sparkled with mischief as he guided her hands to her back, deftly tying her wrists together. She gasped in shock and struggled against the binds, twisting her neck to look at what was restricting her— it was the rope that held the lacquer box intact! When had he even taken that? MC certainly didn’t see it. What a sneaky ninja he is! MC had to mentally shake her head at her own naivety and the ridiculousness of her thoughts.

“Gen, what is this? Why did you tie me up?” MC struggled against the binds once more, just in case, but did she really expect to escape from the handiwork of a master ninja?

“Shh… I thought you trusted me?” his crimson eyes searched hers.

“I do! But-“

“I’m so hungry you see…” he cut her off, he ran a thumb along her jawline, sending the skin tingling where he touched. He then ran his finger across her lips, gently pushing into her parted lips, before going straight down to her neck and then her collarbones, gliding against the robes ever so slightly. In the meantime, his other hand started untying her obi that secured her clothing, the bow in the back unraveling.

The breath hitched on her throat as he slowly parted her robes, almost seeming to enjoy the way she still struggled against the binds a bit. MC didn’t know what to do, since her body didn’t allow her to meekly stand still, meanwhile struggling led to a faster exposure of skin due to the friction. Gradually yet inevitably, her yellow robes fell down from her shoulders, tangling with the intricate binding of her wrists.

With the sudden exposure to the cold air, both of her nipples perked up. MC shifted on her knees, turning pointedly around in an attempt to calm her racing heart before facing her sneaky ninja. However, he wouldn’t allow her shying away, stepping around to face her again.

“If you don’t like what I’m doing, you can always tell me, y’know. I wouldn’t ever hurt you.” MC gave a nod with her eyes still downcast. Genya pressed a kiss to her forehead, cradling her cheeks in his palm as if she was a delicate, porcelain doll, the gentle gesture contrasting blatantly with the ropes that bound her. However, upon a more level-headed analysis, she discovered that the binds were not in any way digging into her skin and was simply for restriction but not pain-inducing of any sorts. Her body relaxed with the revelation that she should simply trust in her loving boyfriend like she said she did.

“Sorry, Gen, for making you think that I’m frightened of you. I don’t mind whatever you do to me. I want you and I trust you,” she declared with firm resolve both to him and herself.

“Pwahahahha,” Genya let out a boisterous laugh out of nowhere which had MC backtracking her words to find the source of amusement. Her brows knit in concern as she suddenly couldn’t remember the fine details of what just came out of her mouth. “I’m beyond happy you said that but don’t go crying, trying to back out of what you just said because I’m going to take you up on that offer of doing whatever I want with you now.” The amused smirk was back on his face and MC swallowed. Was this all part of his master plan? Just what did she get herself into?

“First things first,” he headed to where she had left the food and brought over the ornate box. Picking up a zunda mochi with his fingers, he prodded and squished it in between his fingers for a while. MC tried to push back the heat creeping up her face, repeating the mantra of ‘it’s just food, it’s just food’ over and over again in her head.

“I’m hungry but I know something better that zunda can sit on. Just as soft and squishy too.” Did he mean…? No, it couldn’t be. He scooped a generous dollop of zunda on his fingers and came straight for her. Eyes wide in disbelief, she held her breath as he smeared the mashed beans all over her breasts.

“Ack! W-what are you doing?! Ewww!” MC exclaimed in horror as she looked down at the green substance spread on her breasts.

“Can’t you see? I’m making my own zunda mochi,” he smirked and added, “but I’m not quite done yet.” He scraped off every available mashed soybeans from atop the rice cakes and brought it to the valley between her breasts. The feeling of lukewarm zunda touching her skin made her posture go rigid.

“This looks disgusting,” MC frowned but Genya seemed to be enjoying himself.

“No, I think it’s-“ he flicked his tongue out to taste the food from her breast and said, “-delicious, actually. So bouncy.” He squished her breasts with his fingers, mimicking the way he played with the mochi earlier. Then he put his entire mouth on the same spot on top of her breasts and after licking off all the zunda, nibbled on her skin.

“Ahhhh, don’t actually eat me, you, you-!” she was so shocked that no words of insult properly formed. The area stung a bit and she looked down to see the skin irritated in crimson.

“Don’t be so mad, pretty girl. It’s not that bad, is it?” When she responded to the question with a fierce glare, he said, “I know, I bet you’re hungry too, eh?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and took off his robes in a flash, his hardness half-mast.

He pressed his warm erection against the valley of her breasts in a languid motion, joining in on the food-on-skin contact. The sticky, wet substance covered his cock fully and he gathered her breasts together to encompass it as he thrusted up and down her breasts.

Never in MC’s wildest dreams would she have imagined anyone doing this. MC wasn’t the most well-endowed in the female anatomy department but Gen, being a practical man, sure was making full use of all that she offered. The head of his cock peeked in and out of the top of her smooshed mounds, almost reaching her mouth and MC had never felt more lewd in her entire life.

After few minutes of his nonstop thrusts, a good portion of zunda transferred from the surface of her skin to his. His privates did not look appetizing, to say the least. How was he going to clean that up? MC’s eyes shot up to his face. Oh, wait… did he expect her to-

“Say ah~” He smiled innocently—well as innocently as someone can be while pushing their sticky-food-covered cock at someone’s mouth while also being a ninja with no sexual shame.

“Gen-“ As soon as MC opened her mouth to say his name, Genya pushed his messy length into it. “Mmmmh!” MC was not expecting him to suddenly put it in but thankfully he didn’t jam it all the way to her throat and rather stayed still to give her time to breathe through her nose instead of assaulting her orifice. It felt like she was completely at his mercy, kneeling on her knees with hands tied to her back and body slightly leaning forward in an awkward position to maintain balance.

“Make sure to lick me thoroughly. You wouldn't want to get any inside of you," He requested. Fine, he wanted thorough? She will show him what she’s learned during their lovemaking lessons he seems to frequently launch them into.

She put on a show of overly loud moaning noises just to poke fun at him as she licked and swallowed the zunda from around his warm appendage. Damn, she was trying to be obnoxious on purpose but the zunda really was good so she ended up enthusiastically sucking everything in earnest with “mm’s” and “ahh’s” here and there. She made sure to give ample attention to his balls too since they had their share of green mixture smeared as well. She was granted with an uncontainable moan from a sound emitted from his throat, deep within—a purely manly noise that let her know she was improving with more practice from this lecher.

It was difficult not having access to her hands as she felt some saliva gather at the corner of her mouth and as her mouth wasn’t able to fully close at the moment, she had to endure the embarrassment of feeling it slide down her chin, threatening to drip completely down.

Before that happened though, Genya eased himself out of her mouth with a soft pop and swooped down to land kisses on her chin, following the trail back up to her lips, capturing her mouth fully. “Hold on, let’s not waste food here,” he said, as he ate the remainder of the mashed beans from her chest before it crusted on her body. He finally stepped away from her.

MC doesn’t think she can ever view zunda mochi in quite the same way again.

“Gen, that… that was quite an experience. I’m still not sure how I feel about it. Anyways, you can unhand me now.” MC expectedly looked behind her at the intricate ties around her wrists.

“Nuh uh, you’re not getting off that easily,” Genya wagged his forefinger at her as he went back to the other side of the room. “Aha, there you are.” He picked up the large falcon feather from the floor where it was earlier discarded.

“What? We’re not done?” MC felt sweat forming on the back of her neck. Oh dear.

“No way, that was just the appetizer.” He stepped in front of her with the intimidating black and grey quill as if he were some fancy aristocrat, pinky up for the added effect.

“W-what are you going to-“ he cut her off yet again as he brought the feather to her face, outlining the edges of her features delicately. Her stomach clenched up immediately and the words refused to leave her throat. The feather was as big as his hand but incredibly soft.

He ran the feather across her collarbones, from left to right and back left. MC was quite a ticklish person in general and this level of torture was too much for her. As he dragged the softness down her stomach, her entire body jerked, shoving her breasts forward in his direction.

Just when she thought things couldn’t get any weirder than being smothered in food, here she was being teased with a giant feather. What a day.

“Why must you always tease me?” she pouted.

“Ah, but isn’t that the whole point of this?” he looked like he was having so much fun that she couldn’t remain annoyed for long.

Flick. Flick. Flick. He was unyielding in his avian-assisted conquest.

He tickled her under her breasts, causing her back to arch up. Soon MC was a wriggling and squirming mess, toes permanently curled in anticipation and nerves. He moved it in slow circles around the circumference of her breasts and she struggled against the bonds, wiggling to get the feather to touch her nipples, they never did, pointedly avoiding them altogether.

MC simultaneously cursed and thanked whatever godforsaken bird lost its feather for this pleasure-slash-torture she was experiencing in the hands of her beautiful tormentor. The soft touches of his evoked a rush of over-heightened nerves shooting down her whole body, flood of liquid passion rushing to her belly as a result.

Her head lolled back, eyes landing on the slightly frayed ends of the rope, wondering when she could escape these blasted binds.

The feather dipped low to circle her navel and MC’s teeth clenched with her tightening the muscles of her stomach and thighs, all the hairs on her body standing up on her prickled skin.

“Gen… Gen…” his name kept escaping her for some reason. She needed something now, blast him.

“What is it?” He was toying with her now, surely. MC gave a huff in frustration but refused to say more. “You’re quite eager, aren’t you?” He dropped the feather and ghosted her dark curls with his skilled hand.

“Do it.” MC ground out. She was in a hurry but he seemed to be made of time, definition of patience incarnate.

“I need you to beg.” MC squeezed her eyes shut, vexed out of her mind. What an absolute pervert.

“Gen, can you just…?” She squirmed a bit.

“There’s a certain word I’m looking for here.” Oh.

“...Please. Pretty please?” His smile widened as he suddenly pushed two fingers into her dripping heat. An incoherent noise escaped her as he began to pump his fingers in and out of her, vigorously. His other, less-dominant hand reached around to effectively unbind her in seconds, which lead to MC plunging her free hands into his faintly wavy hair. Wrists slightly throbbing, MC firmly dug her fingertips into his scalp and grasped handfuls of his coppery-silver hair, a part of her hoping that it hurt a bit in retaliation.

Not a modicum of discomfort showing on his face, his hands slowed down as she felt so close to achieving her high that she instinctively exclaimed, “Fujibayashi Genya, I swear, if you don’t fuck me right now-“

“My dear, I thought you’d never ask.” He pushed her shoulders down unceremoniously so she sprawled on her back on top of her disheveled robes without a hint of grace. Immediately, his cock plunged into her in a smooth, effortless motion as a result of MC being as wet as humanly possible, or so she thought. In desperation to do something, she squeezed her inner walls while he was inside. He definitely felt that, if his growing smirk was any indication. He unleashed his passion through the powerful rhythm while she matched his thrusts halfway, trying to allow him to hit deeper, to control the aim more to near her frontal walls.

“Ahhhhh, Gen! I’m- I’m-” The dam of her pent up sexual frustration broke as a tidal wave of juices rushed out, the muscles of her whole body twitching and clenching.

“Good girl, you did well.” He grunted and continued to pound into her heat. As soon as she felt like it was a bit too sensitive for such vigorous action, he spurted inside of her, holding her down by the forceful grip on her hips to accept all that he had to give. He stayed inside her for as long as possible, wanting as much of his seeds to remain with her. When he slid out, they remained connected by a single thread of cum connecting his softening cock and her opening, despite some liquid dribbling out of her.

Watching his seeds spill out of her and the line of cum clinging on for dear life to both of them, he wondered if she would get pregnant, if not already so. He supposed he should be worried about the possibility of her getting with child, but truth be told he didn’t care. More so, he actually basked in the joy he felt from imagining a family he could create with his Mitsuba queen. Other ninjas would’ve done anything to avoid future romantic entanglements with another person but he wasn’t a traditional ninja anyways. Fujibayashi Genya played by no one’s rule but his own.

He scooped her up in his arms bridal-style and placed her on a futon that he kicked open. Lying down next to her, he fondly brushed the hair on her face with his thumb as he pressed gentle kisses on her wrists in apology.

“Gen, shouldn’t we wash?”

“Mm, we can do it tomorrow.” MC wanted to disagree, thinking back on the stickiness from earlier, but her eyes were slowly closing so she let him indulge her, letting sleep take her.

Genya rested a thin blanket over MC’s frame, cuddling her against his chest as he thought he ought to thank Shigezane the next time he sees the young lord.

Tagging: I’ll include people who commented on my other Gen story since I think you guys will like this too?  @rubyleeray @pseudofaux @kawa-akarin @dani677 @julias1993 @wasabilove82 @sandrinhaap @masamunbae @foreversunshine-love @all-my-cuffs-have-buttons

#my writing #slbp #samurai love ballad party #fanfiction #fanfic #slbp fanfic #fujibayashi genya #slbp genya #date shigezane #slbp shigezane

[fallinwitstyle]

Five Years |

Hello @awesomeeyeroll, I am your secret santa for @moghraidhjamie‘s Outlander Secret Santa 2017! I really hope you enjoy this! This is my first (posted) attempt at writing Outlander and I really had fun with it! Because you requested anything with Jamie and Claire I hope you are alright with what I have chosen to write. It is something that I have been wanting to write for a while and this challenge finally gave me the push to do it. 

It is an AU where Faith lives and Claire has not gone back through the stones. Culloden has happened but neither Claire nor Jamie were a part of it. This is basically just a happy family moment at Lallybroch we should have gotten without that pesky history getting in the way ;)

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Without further ado…

———————————————————————————————————–

Five Years

Claire gently awoke to warmth and contentment. The firm, warm body of her husband pressed against her back.

She could feel the sunlight seeping in through the windows, trying to fully rouse her. She promptly ignored it’s pleas and wiggled herself further against Jamie- who by the sound of his breathing and lack of response, had not also been awoken.

It was days like these that she could not get enough of. If it were up to her she would spend forever in Jamie’s embrace and was content to at least spend a little more time in his arms before the day began and would have…

Except…

“Mama?”

A little voice spoke quietly from beside her. Her eyes cracked open and she startled to see a pair of big blue eyes peering at her from directly beside the bed.

Jamie grunted and shifted beside her at her sudden movement.

Claire blinked quickly, waking herself up and propped herself up on her elbow and smiled at the small red headed girl now grinning up at her brightly.

“Hello lovey.” Claire cooed quietly, trying not to wake Jamie. An effort that was entirely in vain when she felt Jamie’s arm tighten around her middle, his head shift so his cheek pressed against her back.

“What are you doing up?”

“Sun!” The girl pointed exuberantly at the window. “Sun out, Mama. We go out?”

A rumbling chuckle sounded from against her back. “She has the mind of a fox, this one. Ye canna say she doesna hear what ye say…”

“Bree.” A sharp, young voice came quietly from outside the door. “Bree ye canna…”

The door slowly pushed open and another redheaded girl about the age of four stood frozen, eyes wide.

Claire smiled warmly and pushed herself up further, ignoring Jamie’s quiet protests and the gentle tightening of his arm around her waist.

“Good morning, darling...” Claire greeted her eldest daughter sweetly. Brianna inched closer to the bed, pressing herself up against it as she threw a cautious look over her shoulder towards her sister.

Faith scowled at her and then sticking her chin up, looked back up to Claire. “Mama, I told her…I told her no, that she couldna..”

Claire laughed softly and extended her hand to her.. “Faith, come here sweetheart…”

Looking a little ashamed, Faith scurried into the room until she stood next to her younger sister.

Brianna looked up to her older sister, her chin jutting out defiantly, a small pout on her lips.

Faith frowned back at her and with a huff looked back at Claire. “I am sorry, Mama…”

Claire smiled at them both, reaching down to bring Brianna into her lap and then patted the bed beside her.

Faith slowly climbed up on the bed, ducked her  chin to her chest but glanced hesitantly up at her mother.

Keeping one arm secure around Brianna, Claire reached out to gently place a reassuring hand on Faith’s shoulder.

“Darling, there is nothing to apologize for. Do you remember what I said about disturbing me and Da?”

Faith nodded certainly. “If the sky is black we shouldna come to ye, unless we are ill or hurt or scairt.”

“That’s right and look outside. Is the sky dark?”

Faith glanced toward the window and immediately relaxed at the sight of the bright morning sun filtering in through the glass.

Her eyes drifted sideways as Jamie finally sat up, coming into view behind Claire.

Faith stared at him silently until he gave his daughter a sleepy but warm smile. Then she grinned and rose to her knees. “G’Mornin’, Da!”

Jamie chuckled and he reached over to brush a strand of her wild hair out of her face. “G’Mornin’ to ye, a leannan.”

Fully reassured they had done nothing to upset their parents, Faith turned back to her mother and sister with a smile and inched closer to press her legs to Claire’s.

“What are you two doing up so early?” Claire asked, looking between them in amusement.

At that, Faith lost her smile and sighed dramatically. “Bree has been up since dark!”

Claire raised her brow, glancing down to her youngest, smiling up at her brightly with certainly no look of lack of sleep about her.

“Since dark?” Claire ran a concerned hand down her back.

“Living up to her name.” Jamie muttered and Claire shot a quick look over her shoulder at him. His eyes danced with amusement as he gave her a little grin.

“You could not sleep, Bree?” She asked softly, returning to Brianna.

Brianna shrugged. “I sleep! But, Mama sun!” She hopped up excitedly and elbowed Claire in the chest.

Claire grunted, a flash of pain contorting her face and Brianna stilled at the sound, looking up  at Claire wide eyed.

“Careful, Bree…” Claire maneuvered the girl in her lap, spreading her legs so Brianna sat between them on the mattress.

“Sorry…” Brianna whispered and then leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of Claire’s chest. “Better, Mama?”

Her heart warmed by the adorable gesture, Claire smiled and started to comb her fingers through Brianna’s hair. “Yes darling, thank you, much better.”

The grin returned to Brianna’s face and she began to bounce again.

“Now tell me, what exactly has you so excited to go outside today?” Claire wondered, one arm secure around Brianna’s body to keep her bouncing daughter steady.

Brianna frowned at her. “Mama we go out! You say so!” She told Claire as if it were the most obvious reason in the world.

“You are right I did say that.“ Claire said, remembering the promise she had made the girls the evening before.

“We go now?”

“Persistent little thing aren’t you?”

“Aye, that she is…” Jamie murmured, his voice thick with adoration.

“Well how about this? You two go back to your room and I will be with you shortly to get you dressed.Then we will go have some breakfast and then we will see if we can go outside.”

Brianna and Faith glanced at each other, grinning in excitement and shouted their agreements and scrambled off the bed towards the door.

“Girls!”

Claire’s sharp tone stopped them at once and they turned around fearfully.

Claire’s eyes were stern in warning but she followed it up with a reassuring smile.

“Do be quiet, about it, hm? It is still early yet and you do not want to wake anyone else.”

“Jamie is already awake Mama…and Fergus, I see’d them!” Faith informed her matter of factly.

“Saw, darling.” Claire corrected gently.

“Oh.” Faith nodded and then proclaimed proudly, “I saw’d them!”

Jamie snorted quietly from behind her and Claire held back a grin of her own.

“Well then…I don’t know what your cousin and brother are doing up before dawn…” she made a mental note to ask the little rascals what they were up to. “…but you don’t want to wake Auntie Jenny and Uncle Ian or little Michael and Janet do you?”

Brianna and Faith’s bright eyes both widened in comedic synchrony and they shook their heads furiously at the thought of waking the infants.

“Quietly then.” Claire reiterated, lowering her own voice for effect.

“Aye, Mama.” They both answered in stage whispers and then turned to each other and Faith held her finger to her lips and Brianna echoed her.

Then with a clear attempt at being quiet, the girls rushed out of the room in a flurry of excited giggles, their little footsteps echoing in the hall.

Claire let out an exasperated sigh, collapsed onto her back and closed her eyes.

She heard Jamie laugh quietly beside her and then shift so his body was once again pressed against her side.

She popped open one eye and found her husband grinning down at her in amusement.

She opened both eyes and narrowed them playfully. “What are you smiling at?”

His smile widened eve further at that. “Our wee lassies. They have spirit…especially Brianna.”

Claire groaned but smiled fondly. “Spirit is one word.” She shifted over closer to Jamie. “I would just like to know who put sugar in her cereal.”

Jamie’s brow twitched. “Cereal?”

Claire hummed in amusement, bringing her hand to his cheek, running her fingers over the lines in his face. “A common breakfast in the 20th century.”

Jamie nodded slowly, pondering this just as he did every other thing she told him about the future. “And you add sugar and give to the weans?”

Claire laughed quietly. “Only if you want them bouncing off the walls.”

He gave her a perplexed look. “Why would ye want that?”

She smiled and lifted his head to kiss him, muddling another laugh against his mouth. “You wouldn’t. I only meant that she is particularly overactive this morning.”

He hummed low in agreement and captured her lips in a longer kiss.

His warm hands wandered down, sliding across her hip to cup her round bottom.

He shifted closer to her while also guiding her towards him, his grip firm on her.

She gave a small grin and allowed it. She leaned into him and then rolled over to straddle him as he fell back against the bed.

Her curls falling over her shoulders, Claire leaned in towards him and they shared a grin before their lips met again in a sweep of passion.

Claire let out a small, quiet moan against Jamie’s mouth as he gently kneaded his fingers into her bottom and she pressed her chest to his.

She momentarily broke their kiss with a small bubbling laugh as Jamie’s hands started to slide under her shift.

“Jamie, we can’t…”

He made a low noise in the back of his throat and lifted his torso to follow her as she began to lift away. He captured her lips in another heated kiss which momentarily paused her and she sunk back against him, giving into his heat and her desire.

“Jamie!” She half scolded with a laugh as his hands wandered again and he grinned unapologetically against her mouth.

She placed her hands on his chest and forced herself away from him, though the darkness of desire tinting his eyes was almost enough to pull her back in.

“If I do not go find the girls they most certainly will come find me. You saw Brianna, she is bound and determined to get herself outside for whatever reason.”

With one hand secure on her hip, Jamie used the other to reach up and brush the curls away from her face. “Aye. She is like her mother in that way.”

Claire lifted her brow. “And her father.” She smirked affectionately and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “There is no doubting she is a Fraser.”

He hummed and moved his hand to the back of her head, smiling against her lips as he held her there.

“My stubborn and bonnie wee lasses.” He beamed with paternal pride as Claire sat up moments later. “And I couldna love them more.”

Claire returned his beaming smile and they shared another kiss as Jamie pushed himself up. Then Claire brought her hand to his face, running her fingers over the prickly stubble on his chin.

“Nor could I.”

 ———————————————————————————————————-

 After dressing the girls and reminding them once again to be quiet as they dashed down the stairs for their breakfast, Claire was a little relieved to discover that Jenny had already awoken, tending to the babes.

Clearly having had a long night herself, Jenny looked tired but smiled warmly as the young girls ran past her, shouting their greetings.

Young Jamie and Fergus were already up and seated around the table. Faith climbed up on the empty seat beside Fergus while Brianna climbed immediately onto Fergus’ lap.

“Brianna!” Claire admonished. “Do not bother Fergus while he is eating!”

The young teenager smiled over at her as Brianna looked up to him with a pout, her eyes round and pleading.

“She is no bother Milady.” Fergus assured her and wrapped an arm affectionately, protectively around Brianna’s small body. “I swear it!”

To further prove his point, he grabbed a small piece of bannock off his plate and offered it to Brianna.

She gasped and grinned in delight, eagerly taking the morcel from Fergus and stuffed it into her mouth.

Claire smiled at them. “Brianna, love, what do you say to Fergus who so kindly shared his breakfast?”

“Thank you, ‘Gus.” Brianna muffled between a mouthful and Fergus grinned at her.

“My pleasure, ma petit…”

Brianna beamed at her very special endearment from Fergus.

Faith frowned, obviously jealous of the attention her sister was receiving from Fergus and she leaned in towards him.

Catching movement, Fergus looked to her with a smile.

“Fergus, may I have some too, please?” She asked in a very polite plea.

“But of course.” He smiled and broke off another piece and handed it over to Faith who accepted it with a grin and a squeal of thanks.

“Alright, we do not want to have all of Fergus’ breakfast.” Claire said with amusement as she walked over. She set a separate plate out in front of Faith and gave her her own food.

“Good Morning, Fergus.” Claire greeted with a smile as she stood between him and Faith.

Fergus returned the warm greeting, but was quickly interrupted as Brianna stole another piece of bannock off his plate but offered it up to him.

“Merci.” He said, exaggerating his accent which sent the little girl into a round of giggles.

Claire assured both her girls were situated with their breakfast and then a small gurgling brought her attention to Jenny who was attempting to soothe both of her fussing infants.

With a small smile, Claire walked over to her and held out her arms. “Here…why don’t you let me take them off your hands.”

Jenny lifted a brow. “You havena eaten yet Claire.”

Claire smiled knowingly, sympathetically. “I very much doubt you have either.” She wagged her fingers encouragingly.

“Claire…”

“I am alright for now, Jenny. You look as if you have had a long night.”

Jenny let out a sigh that proved exactly how tired she was.

“I would be glad to take at least one of them.” Claire assured a final time her and held out her arms expectantly.

Jenny stared at her a long moment and then sighed again. “Well, if I canna change y’er mind…”

Claire shook her head with a smile and almost eagerly took the more fussy Michael from his mother’s arms and into her own.

She cooed at the infant and shifted him to fit in the crook of her arm. Michael quieted at the sudden movement and stared wide eyed up at his aunt.

“Hello there little boy. Have you been giving your mother some trouble?”

She swayed her way across the kitchen, taking little steps, bouncing Michael in her arms.

Only minutes later the room was filled with noise as the other residents started piling in. Maggie and Kitty eagerly ran into the room, greeting their mother and Auntie Claire before heading to the table to sit next to their younger cousins.

Claire stole a proud look over to her daughters as Faith offered to share her breakfast with Kitty.

Ian and Jamie followed in just a few minutes later, sharing a heart warming laugh. Jamie placed an affectionate hand on his brother’s shoulder and they grinned at each other before searching the room.

Ian’s face softened and he gave Claire a grateful smile upon spotting her with Michael and hobbled over to where Jenny stood with Janet.

Jamie’s face lit up with unspeakable glee, his eyes shining with warm affection at the sight of Claire with the baby in her arms. As he neared her side, they shared a bright smile before Claire returned her attention to Michael who still seemed utterly fascinated by the faces Claire was now making at him.

“Do ye know what we are going to do today, Fergus?” Faith asked, her voice high and sweet as she perched herself on the edge of her seat, leaning with interest towards the figure that was her brother.

Fergus lifted his brow inquisitively. “No I do not. What are you going to do?”

“Outside!” Brianna exclaimed happily, throwing her arms up that nearly knocked Fergus across the face. His years of pickpocketing and good reflexes allowed him to dodge the blow and he chuckled as Brianna then wound her arms around his neck.

“We are going outside and we are going to be there all day. Will you come with us, please?”

“I will be outside but I have my work to do.”

Faith frowned as Brianna groaned, clutching tighter to him.

Suddenly Faith’s eyes lit up and she sat up with excitement. “We can help you!”

“Aye, we help ‘Gus!” Brianna chirped happily lifting her head and Fergus threw a glance over to Jamie and Claire.

“Da!” Faith popped up onto her knees. “Can we help Fergus with his work outside please?”

Jamie raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching at the corners.

There was much of Fergus’ work that he would not allow his young daughters to attempt but there was something that came to mind that would make them happy.

“Well, seeing as you asked so nice…aye, I suppose ye can help Fergus wi’ a few of his chores.”

Cheering with renewed excitement, Brianna tightened her arms around Fergus’ neck and then slithered off his lap as Faith also hopped off her chair.

Fergus raised his brow at Jamie and shook his head in question.

“Ye can take them to feed the chickens.” Jamie instructed and Fergus’ face softened in understanding.

“Chickens!” The girls squealed together and burst into another round of giggles as they each ran around to one of Fergus’ sides and tugged excitedly at his sleeves.

He rose to his feet and grinned at them both as he reached to take their hands.

Their hands secure in his, they led the older boy, practically dragging him out of the room.

He shot a glance over his shoulder towards Jamie and Claire. Catching his eye, Claire smiled in affection and gratitude.

Jamie gave a small nod, his lips turned in an amused smirk.

Fergus let out a noise that vaguely resembled the squawk of a chicken and the girls’ squeals of delight followed them out of the room.

———————————————————————————————————–

Hours later and well into the afternoon, after most of the daily work had been done, Claire stole a moment of peace and rest outside. It was a rare, sunny day in Scotland which provided an excellent day for the girls. Claire had checked on them not long before, finding them once again with Fergus and young Jamie and the other Murray children.

She wandered quietly around the grounds of Lallybroch until she found Jamie also taking his retreat outdoors.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” She asked conversationally as she walked up beside him.

Jamie turned his head towards her, his face lighting in a smile. “‘Tis a bonnie day to be out for sure.” Jamie observed lifted his head, his smile widening as a gentle breeze whipped by them, rustling his ruddy locks about his shoulders. “Verra warm for spring.”

It was in fact an unusually warm day. Winter usually held on for as long as it could in Scotland, especially in the highlands.

It was then a sudden thought occurred to her.

“Jamie, what day is it?“

“The second of May, Sassenach.”

“The second?” She turned toward him, brow lifted.

“Aye,” he nodded wryly and rubbed the knuckles of his stiff right hand, “wrote it enough today to be sure.”

“Jamie!” She exclaimed and he looked down at her quickly in alarm. “Your birthday! It completely slipped my mind, I’m sorry!”

His face softened into a small smile. “Dinna fash yourself. It doesna mind me much, the day I mean.”

“You still could have said, at least for the girls’ sake, they would love any opportunity to show you as much affection as possible.”

His smile widened and moved to stand against her side, his arm slipping around her waist, just as the sound of distant, high-pitched giggles reached their ears. They were out of sight but the sound was a pleasant reminder their girls were near, safe and happy.

“Hm…aye. Well, we can tell them…perhaps after they have run themselves wild.” His lips curved in a small smirk and she laughed quietly as she nudged him with her hip. His smirk grew into a grin and he kissed the side of her head.

“How old are you now?” Claire asked, leaning her head back against his shoulder, relaxing into his hold.

Jamie hummed thoughtfully. “Seven and twenty, I think.”

“Twenty seven…” She mused and Jamie grunted quietly in reply.

Her twenty-seventh birthday was not quite as peaceful - having nearly been burned at the stake, confessing her soul and heart to Jamie, expecting him to at the very least not believe the truth of her admittedly hard to believe story.

“What’s on ye’r mind, Sassenach?” Jamie’s voice was warm and low at her ear, his hand running in small circles on her back.

She turned her head towards him to find him watching her intently and she smiled lovingly as she slid her hand onto his chest, feeling his heart beat beneath her palm.

“Do you know it was five years ago today that I traveled through the stones?”

His brow lifted and he hummed thoughtfully. “Five years, is it?” His hand slid to her hip and pulled her tight against his side. She grinned up at him and bit her lip softly with a nod. “Five years only?”

“It does seem much longer than doesn’t it?” Claire agreed and settled her head on his chest, letting out a small contented sigh as she looked out at the lands of Lallybroch, lands that had felt more like home than anywhere she had ever been. “I feel as though I have spent a lifetime here…so much has happened.”

Jamie pressed a hard kiss to the top of her head. “Aye…the bad and the good.”

They both smiled as another squeal of laugher pierced the air.

“Very good.”

If she had been paying more attention she might have noticed the sudden change in Jamie’s heart rate.

His right hand still secure on her hip, his left hand slowly moved to rest over her abdomen. “With only more good to come, aye?”

She hummed, curling into his warmth and only a moment later realized his words. Her head snapped up to look at him wide-eyed.

His warm blue eyes implored hers - there was a hopeful uncertainty in his eyes but the smirk on his lips told her he knew the truth of his words.

How the devil did he always do that?

“How did you know?”

A bright smile lt up his face at the small words of confirmation and his fingers stretched out protectively across her front.

“I ken ye verra well, Sassenach. I was in no fit mind to ken with Faith until ye said but Brianna, well it was when ye missed ye’r courses, ken? As well as other,” He raised his brow pointedly and Claire gave him a look to which he hid a grin, “changes to ye’r body. Ye have the same changes now.”

“Oh, do I?”

He grinned and swooped down to press a kiss to her nose. Then he leaned in and pressed his forehead gently to hers. His hand slowly slid up to graze the underside of her breasts and her breath hitched. He brushed his nose against hers and then leaned into kiss her, softly once, a quick brush of their lips and then harder as Claire reached between them to bring her hand to his face, keeping them together.

“Ye think I dinna ken how ye react when I touch ye, Claire?” He muttered against her lips and she whimpered quietly. “Or take notice of y’er womanly ways…”

She hummed, smiling up at him as she melted into his strong embrace. “Most men do not care to notice such things.”

“Ah, Sassenach,” He grinned, “I am not most men.”

“That is for certain.” She grinned back before leaning into kiss him once more.

After breaking the kiss, she settled back into his arms with a contented sigh. They remained quiet and blissful in each other’s arms, both of them processing the recent acknowledgement of their third voyage into parenthood.

“‘Twas as well the way ye held wee Michael this morning,” Jamie’s voice continued, warm and low at her ear and his arms tightened around her gently. “The way ye looked at him, ye had this glow about ye Sassenach. I ken that look. I ken ye love Jenny’s bairns but that look is one ye only give to Faith and Brianna. Ye were not seeing wee Michael but our own yet to come, aye?”

She felt another flood of warmth that he should known her, read her that well. That is indeed what she was thinking when holding Michael, picturing, wondering if the child that grew within her would be a son, a precious boy like Michael.

“Yes.” She breathed, her face lighting up with a smile.

Jamie’s arms tightened around her and he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. She felt his smile and knew he had to be thinking the same. She knew Jamie adored their daughters, loved them with every fibre of his heart, but he also longed for a son. Nor was she opposed to the idea of a tiny little Jamie running about.

Her heart soared at the very thought of another child with Jamie, male or female. Their two daughters were gifts, their little miracles and any child that followed would also be. The joy of bearing the children of the man she loved more than the world was unspeakable.

Yet even with that unexplainable joy there was also a cloud of doubt and fear that gnawed at her from the moment she realized she might have been pregnant again.

“I am worried, though, Jamie…” Claire admitted quietly. She shook her head and fought back the sudden rush of tears, cursing herself for the emotions she could not control. “Faith barely survived her birth…”

She did not miss the brief look of guilt that flickered in Jamie’s eyes beneath the sudden wave of pain. She reached out her hand for his, squeezing to reassure him - it was in the past and had long been forgiven.

“I barely survived Brianna’s…” She moved their joined hands to cover her abdomen, frowning down at them, remembering only the pain and horror that overtook her nearly as soon as labor started. Then she woke up to Jamie’s concerned but relieved stare, with Jenny holding and caring to their newborn and mercifully healthy daughter behind him. “I don’t know how this one will be but given my history…I am frightened. I am so very happy to be building our family, Jamie but I…” Her voice broke and she let out a sharp breath, frustrated with herself and with the fact that with all her nursing expertise there was only so much she could do to save a mother and child if something were to go wrong in childbirth and not much she could do for herself at all.

Jamie was silent and solid behind her. He buried his nose in her hair for a moment and then kissed her head and moved to rest his cheek against her head. “As am I, Claire…” The fear, the pain in his voice was clear as he reflected on her previous births.

“Claire…” Jamie’s voice grew suddenly low and serious and Claire wasn’t sure if the temperature had dropped or it was just their topic of conversation that sent a chill through her and she nestled further against him. “Do ye ever regret it…not going back to y’er own time?”

Claire snapped her head up quickly. Jamie’s brow was furrowed, his jaw tight, his eyes focused ahead of him until he slowly looked at her, his eyes afraid of her answer.

She shook her head slowly, her brow pressed together, her lips tight in a frown. “How could you even ask that?”

The relief in his eyes was almost instant but he sighed wearily. “Ye said ye’rself Claire, it is a safer time…ye wouldna have so much trouble with childbirth if ye were there.”

“Jamie…” She whispered in exasperation and pressed her body as close to his as possible. “I would not even have children if I were there.”

Jamie’s head twitched, his eyes narrowing and asking a question he dare not ask aloud. “No?”

Claire clenched her jaw and looked him directly in the eye. “No.” She confirmed certainly.  She shook her head, diverting thoughts away from Frank. She moved her hand to his face, locking her eyes onto his.

“Listen to me, James Fraser….this is my time now. It has been for the last four and a half years. This is where I belong…with you and our children, our family. The joy that comes with it is worth all of the risks that might be.”

A small smile graced his features. “I am verra glad ye think so, Sassenach.”

“Don’t you agree?”

“Oh, aye but I am no the one risking my life to birth the weans.”

Another jolt of fear ripped through her but she quickly swallowed it. There was no sense in agonizing over what might be, when there was just as much a possibility for joy and love.

“It is worth the risk.” She said again  assuredly, talking to both him and herself.

A loud bark followed by an array of squeals suddenly broke through the peaceful silence that had started to fall around them.

Just moments later, their large dog came in a  barreling run in front of them. A few feet behind was a whooping and hollering Fergus with Brianna perched on his back, squealing and laughing, her arms tightly wound around his neck.

Close on Fergus’ heels were Young Jamie, Maggie, Kitty and finally Faith to bring up the rear, a grin on her face, her red hair flapping around her face.

Jamie and Claire both smiled at the joyful sight and watched the children until they disappeared from view.

“Everything we have been through Sassenach, these last five years…to have them, to have this, it is worth it all.”

Jamie tightened his arms around her middle, holding both her and their little one safe. Claire slipped her arms on top of his and grabbed a gentle hold of one of his hands. She ran her thumb lightly over the bumps and scars of his right hand.

“I could not agree more.”

#outlander secret santa 2017 #outlander #fanfiction #mine #Jamie x Claire

[kitanoko]

Drunk Todoroki and Sober Momo?

     Note: Thanks! This is rated T and comedic. I had fun writing this so I hope you’ll have fun reading too!

In which Todoroki tells her everything

              Drinkingseemed to be the choice nowadays when someone suggested a meet up. Not thatTodoroki was against it; he just wasn’t used to some of the places that hisfriends took him to. He despised places with gaudy décor, presumptuous staff, andmost of all, he hated the places where you had to shout your lungs out just sothe person sitting a millimeter away from you could ask you again what you weresaying.

               Todaywas different though; a new bar opened up right next to the agency Tokoyami wasworking at and Tokoyami claimed that he was sure it was ideal for a chill,quiet hangout, and so the gang met up there.

              “Howmany phone numbers did Todoroki get again last time?” Kaminari chugged his beerand let out a satisfied sigh, reeking of alcohol, “8?”

               Theelectric hero turned toward Todoroki and draped an arm over him, “Have youcontacted anyone of them? How about that chick with the red hair last time? Shewas hot dude!” Tokoyami waved at the server as Midoriya put down the menus andcalled for another round of beers, both of them interested in the others’conversation.

               “No, Ihaven’t,” Todoroki replied with no smile in sight, “I threw them out inMidoriya’s car.”

               Midoriyaplaced his hand on his forehead, looking quite upset, “you have no idea howmuch trouble I got with Ochako because of that. She thought those were my ‘keepsake’.Could you please give me a heads-up next time?”

               “Ohsorry,” Todoroki mused and Kaminari chuckled at the thought of Uraraka’s angryface. No one has ever seen her be annoyed at Midoriya before so that must be asight to behold.

               “Andcould we not mention this when she gets here with the others?” Midoriya leanedback against the plush couch, “I don’t want to relive that.”

               “Next time you could just givethem to me. I’ll make good use of them, ” Kaminari said as the server laiddown the fresh drinks, “speaking of which, I went with Yaoyorozu once andshe got quite a few suitors too, if you know what I mean.”

               At that,Todoroki pretended to hold a nonchalant façade. The sudden murderous aura thatpoured out of him, however, was enough to betray him. He shifted his gazedownwards, reaching to discard his empty bottle over at Tokoyami’s side and thelatter cocked an eyebrow.

               “Catgot your tongue?” Tokoyami said in a teasing tone, “you seemed like you wantedto comment, Todoroki.”

               “I don’tcare,” the fire and ice hero ran a hand through his hair, “It’s her life. Whyshould I?”

               “You’rekidding,” Kaminari pushed on, “Remember last time when that guy from thesupport department in third year accidentally touched Yaomomo’s chest andhe somehow slipped on ice and broke his leg?”

               “Yeahthat looked painful, “Todoroki avoided their stares and took another swig outof his drink.

               Kaminariscoffed, “Yeah it was during the summer. Where the hell did the ice come from?And don’t tell me it was a coincidence that you were standing a meter away fromhim.”

               “I wasjust passing by,” Todoroki said, “I have no idea what you’re accusing me of,but I was the one who took him to the infirmary. Either ways, he probablydeserved it.”

               Tokoyamiand Midoriya looked entertained, shifting their bodies to get a better view ofthis. If only they had popcorn to accompany them.

               “Okay,”Kaminari now sounded quite agitated. Getting Todoroki to admit that he had acrush on a certain Yaoyorozu was a challenge he refused to lose, “You’re gonna takecare of our bill if something happens between you and Yaoyorozu tonight. And ifI’m wrong, then I’ll take the bill, how’s that?”

               “I’mdown for free beer,” Todoroki nodded, looking quite confident, “You’ve got adeal.”

~~

               It wasn’tuntil the guys were on their fourth round of alcohol had Yaoyorozu, Jirou andUraraka shown up. Midoriya was passed out with half his body threatening totumble off the chair, while the other three had reddened faces. Waving a handat them, Jirou plopped down beside Kaminari and Uraraka quickly sat herboyfriend up. Pressing on the side of her phone, Yaoyorozu winced as the brightscreen flashed before her.

               “I’msorry we’re late,” Yaoyorozu said.

               “That’sfine,” Tokoyami handed the newcomers each a beer, “if you guys want somethingto munch on feel free.”

               “Yeahthe bill’s on Todoroki tonight so whatever,” Kaminari smirked, eyes dartingover to the boy beside him as he slurred his words together.

               Yaoyorozuwedged herself between Tokoyami and Jirou, “What’s the occasion, Todoroki? Didyou get a promotion or something?”

               Todorokisquinted at the electric hero beside him and stood up suddenly at the assertion,walking away from their table with a drink in hand.

               “Did Isay something wrong?” Yaoyorozu scrunched her brows. Todoroki’s gait was wonkyas he stopped at the bar that lined the dance floor, pulling a bill out of hiswallet in a rush as he ordered yet another drink. He was showing clear signs ofdrunkiness and Yaoyorozu couldn’t help but stand up in pursuit.

               “I’mgonna make sure he’s okay,” the girl fixed her pony-tail up a bit and gesturedto the others, “you guys don’t have to wait for me to order.”

               Jirouand Uraraka sat in confusion, the former turned to Kaminari, “what happened toTodoroki?” With a flick of her wrist, she checked her watch, “11:02 seems waytoo early for you guys to get this drunk. How many beers did you guys have?”

               “Probably6-7 and a few tequila shots,” Kaminari said, head falling back to hit thecushion, “I might’ve pissed off Todoroki a bit, but it’s for his own good.”

~~

               “Todoroki,”Yaoyorozu bent down to touch her heel gingerly, feeling a scrape forming fromher leather stilettos. She knew she should’ve broken them in first beforewearing them. She leaned her left arm on a nearby column and shifted her weighttoward it, eyes now staring at the boy before her. Todoroki’s mouth formed athin line.

               “Youshould sit down, you don’t look so good,” the girl urged, “I bet you weredrinking non-stop.”

               Todorokibrushed it off, “Go enjoy yourself,” he closed his eyes and softly rubbed histemples in attempt to stop his headache, “I’m fine, I’ll just take a breakhere.”

               Yaoyorozunodded, “Okay well-“

               “Hey,”Jirou tapped Yaoyorozu lightly on the shoulder, interrupting her train ofthought, and her eyes scanned the boy’s drunken state, “Yaoyorozu and I’llhit the dance floor, so you should wipe that silly grin off your face and makesure not to projectile vomit everywhere.”

               Had hebeen smiling this whole time? Heck, he sure wouldn’t be if not for the alcoholacting up. In preparation to send Jirou a comeback, Todoroki opened his mouth,gaping. Yet, before any words could come out, he realized that the two girlswere already in the middle of the floor, moving their bodies to the brash rhythmof the music.

He felt odd, however. Watching as a guyaround Yaoyorozu danced with her, his body language commanding her to move withhim and Todoroki felt like he popped a vein. He couldn’t describe the pent up feeling he was experiencing at the momentand he wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol or not, but judging by thesly grin on the guy’s face, Todoroki was sure he hated that guy. His legs beganto move on his own and within a few seconds, he pushed through and pulledYaoyorozu to him.

“Hey, you’re ruining our fun man,”Todoroki could piece some of that guy’s words together through his dizziness as he dragged her out of thecrowd. He didn’t bother to answer. Heading towards the corner of the facility, sheprotested the whole way until he led her out the exit door.

“What’s going on?” Yaoyorozu said,stumbling, “Jirou’s probably wondering where the heck I went.”

Todoroki let go of her hand andleaned against the alleyway. Wiping a hand along his flushed face, he grunted.

“Yaoyorozu I need some advice. It’surgent.”

The girl tapped her finger at herside, “I’ll do what I can to help, if you had to drag me all the way out hereto tell me…. It must be quite important.”

“Yeah quite,” even through hisblurry vision, he could make out the concerned look that she donned, “I thinkthere’s something wrong with me and of course, you, being someone who’s highlycapable of complex analysis, should be able to tell me why.”

He’s rambling now, “My heartbeat’sbeen quite irregular. In fact, every time I see you, my heart just goes insane.I don’t know what is wrong with me.”

He picked up his head, noticingthe shocked expression on her face and he moved forward to put a hand on hercheek.

“I think you’re…you’re drunk,Todoroki! You don’t know what you’re saying-“

“Let me continue,” he replied,taking a step closer.

She can smell a mix of alcoholand lime in his breath as he began to ease his forehead on hers. She rememberedhim being only a bit taller than her, but within a year, that fact has changed. Her face was as hot as his now, and she found herself placing both herhands behind his broad shoulders.

Staying in that position, hecontinued to spew, “Why is it that every time I see you with someone else…anotherguy…I just feel so mad.” He made a thoughtful pause, “I have the utmost respectfor you. For as long as I could remember, I never really thought much of it. But now that we’ve graduated, I…I still think of you. In fact, I think of you a lot. Could you tell me why?”

Yaoyorozu batted her eyelashes asthe cold air contrasted against their body warmth. No reply came from her, andslowly but steadily, Todoroki tilted her chin upwards with a light finger.Guiding the girl, he moved forward to capture her lips and she tightened hergrasp on his back instantly at the sudden sensation. He tasted like spice andshe tasted like strawberries and cream.

~~

He was sure that was a dream. Hadit not been his phone notification of 39 missed calls would he have realized thatKaminari was ready to rub it in his face first thing in the morning.

“You owe me for yesterday,”Kaminari’s voice came loud and clear and Todoroki sat up from his bed. Grippingonto the phone tighter, he groaned.

“Fine,” The boy grabbed a handfulof his hair as he leaned forward, “Do you know exactly what happened?”

“Jirou told me you draggedYaomomo out to the alley and that’s it. You two just disappeared,” Kaminari snickered, “apparently there’smore to it, Yaomomo has yet to reveal though.” Todoroki could practically see hisfriend’s smug scowl as he continued, “What a twist, who knew you were so bold.”

“Shut up,” Todoroki said,irritated. As he smothered himself against his pillow, he noticed anuncharacteristically floral scent. Round-eyed, he turned to his left anddiscovered something pink peeking out of the blanket.

“Oh no.”

“What?” Todoroki heard Kaminariask and his hand lifted up the fleece covering. There, a garment that appearedto be a lacy bralette, lied crumpled.

“…I’ll phone you later, Kaminari,” Todoroki took a deep breath and hung up without warning. He honestly felt like his mind was in a blender.

How was he going to confront hernow?

READ PART TWO HERE

#kaminari denki #jirou kyouka #todoroki shouto #yaoyorozu momo #midoriya izuku #tokoyami fumikage #bnha #mha #fanfic request #todomomo #todoroki x momo #todoroki x yaoyorozu #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

[reptilerach]

“Rejection”; Chapter Eight

NOTES: Sorry sorry sorry! This chapter was delayed to freaking WiFi issues down here in FL. April vacation will give me a lot of time to work on my Disbelief! comic, so… that should be out sooner than I’d originally thought. The only reason why it’s taking so long is because I dread all the shading… Ah, well. Enjoy this cute lil’ chapter! (Is sure that it will make the Reader blush)

…

Oh, and go check out this great, brand-spankin’-new comic AU, Pastfell, created by the one and only @vanessagirl286​! For the title page and beginning of her awesome comic series, click here.

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A peaceful silence rested between you, and it felt like an eternity. The heat rushing off your face probably made you look like a tomato, but you didn’t care. This was Sans you were in front of; a guy who didn’t care for little things like this. You squint your eyes just to check that he wouldn’t be able to notice. For a second, you thought he had blue dusted cheekbones. A slam erupted within the abyss of noise, causing you and the skeleton to glare at the door.

Papyrus stood there with a few grocery bags, and huffed heavily. He looked worn out, but upon seeing you he cheered right back up again. “I HAVE RETURNED, HUMAN! WHAT WAS MY TIME?” You gulped, and looked to your side for Sans’ help. He’d already teleported back to his seat, and was leaning back nonchalantly like nothing ever happened. He opened an eye lazily at you, and winked with a devilish grin. You silently plead for his help with your facial expression, but he simply turned a nose up to the air. You could tell what he was trying to get across; “you’re on your own. this is payback from earlier.”

Stammering, your face grew hotter than it had already been from the sudden embrace moments before. “WELL?!” Papyrus demanded, and dropped the bags onto the floor. He fold his arms impatiently, and stood a few feet in front of you. You looked up at him, and came up with a random number. “P-paps, your t-time was, um… 2 minutes and 32 seconds.” You cringed, and Papyrus just stared blankly. Then he cheered, and punched the ceiling. Sans laughed at his brother’s happiness, and smiled wider when Papyrus picked you up once again and spun you around. 

“OH, THANK YOU DEAR HUMAN! I BEAT MY RECORD BY 3 SECONDS!! TO CELEBRATE, THIS PASTA WILL HAVE TO BE THE ABSOLUTE BEST!! LET’S CONTINUE.” He settled you down after another twirl, leaving you feeling dizzy as hell. Sans snickered from across the room, and you put your hands on your knees from the overwhelming vertigo. 

You glanced over at him, out of breath; he wiggled his eyebrows playfully (but still somewhat modestly) upon seeing your distress. You knew that was just Papyrus’s way of hugging people, but to be honest it was unbearably rough. You blushed, and plastered a frown one would make when they pretended to be dead.

Sans clicked his teeth, and pointed an index finger at you. Then, without a thought, he fell asleep. You rolled your eyes at his incompetence, and laid a hand on your crimson cheek. Papyrus jumped beside you, and lift your body up unexpectedly. “SAY, HUMAN… YOU SEEM AWFULLY RED. DID YOU AND SANS TALK ABOUT ANYTHING WHILE I WAS GONE?” You flinched, and bit your lip. “…No.” You said simply, but for once, the tall skeleton saw right through you. Heh, I should make that into a pun for Sans later, you thought with a giggle.

Papyrus frowned, and continued with his accusation. “ARE YOU SURE? BECAUSE IN THE TIME YOU’VE BEEN LEFT ALONE WITH MY BROTHER, WHICH IS VERY LITTLE, YOU SEEM REALLY FLUSTERED WHENEVER I COME BACK.” You gasped, and blushed harder. You raised your hands to cover his mouth, and whipped your head to Sans. Thankfully, the short skeleton was still snoring away on the table. Once you made sure he wasn’t eavesdropping, you let go of Paps and played it off as casually as you could.

“Nah, we’re cool. Sans just makes me laugh really hard when you’re gone; because we don’t want to aggravate you when you’re here, we save the bad puns for later. And when I laugh hard, my face turns red.” You sweat nervously, but fortunately Papyrus seemed to buy it. “THANK YOU FOR YOUR MERCY, (Nickname). IF SANS CANNOT CONTROL HIS COMEDIC ACTIONS AROUND YOU ALREADY, THAT MUST MEAN HE REALLY LIKES YOU.” You froze, but remained calm. 

“Heh, how sweet.” You replied sarcastically, but on the inside you meant it; you just wanted the nosy skeleton off your case before Sans woke up and heard any of your embarrassing conversation. “HE CAN BE, WHEN HE WANTS TO. AH…DON’T TELL HIM I SAID THAT.” Papyrus set you down, and hand you a spare apron. It was a tad bit large, but you eventually figured out a way to make it work. “OKEY-DOKEY! LET’S FINISH WHAT WE STARTED!” Papyrus called loudly, and an urge to wince arose. However, you rolled it off quickly with a care-free chuckle.

You hummed happily, forgetting your sorrows temporarily and remembering how Frisk went on a cooking show with Mettaton and nearly got killed. Instead of growing remorseful over the memory, you chortled under your breath at the thought of the wacky robot. There was no way I would get hurt here in the skelebros’ home, as Papyrus is always looking out for my safety and Sans… Well, you didn’t know how Sans would react yet if you were in danger. He did just say you were friends, and that he knows the two of you might grow into real great ones, but that didn’t mean that he would protect you.

Maybe, just maybe, if he let himself grow attached towards you, then he would. But that takes time. You can’t just be best friends with someone over night; you have to know them like the back of your hand and share many experiences with them. Well, I guess I already got that wagon rolling. You thought to yourself as Papyrus gave you a sudden order to stir the pot. 

Hugging the guy as soon as I meet him, sharing some pain through a sympathetic mourning fest… those times may have not been special to him, but they meant everything to me. You agreed with your conscience, and smiled under your breath. Those times were moments where you used more than just your sense of sight to interact with your favorite character; and that was because you weren’t behind a computer screen anymore.

You sighed, and finished cutting your set of vegetables. Sans doesn’t forget things easily. I’m sure he’ll remember our first meeting for the rest of his life, or this timeline rather. Your mind drifted elsewhere, and you gazed up at Papyrus with awe. The speed and accuracy of his chopping was insane; probably because he had a skele-ton of practice, while you did not.

I wonder when Frisk is going to reset, and what it’s going to be like for me when they do. The consequences of the idea flooded your mind, and you grimaced. Hopefully that doesn’t happen soon, since Frisk may not know what they’re doing and mess the game up. This timeline is special, since I’m here, and starting everything over might effect me in some unpleasant ways. You sang a familiar tune, completely forgetting your dislike of singing in front of new people. 

Papyrus hummed along too, minding his own business and finishing his work. He sang along to a peppy beat, one that sounded awfully familiar. Little did he or (Y/N) know that Sans was awake the entire time; listening in on their “private conversation”, and how (Y/N) hummed delightfully under her breath. 

Receiving a genuine hug of empathy? Check. Getting a rare compliment from his brother? Check. Listening in on a oddly calming tune that relaxed every nerve in his bones? Check. Boy, Sans was having quite the good day.

When Papyrus pointed out (Y/N)’s habit of being flustered around his older brother, the short skeleton smiled shyly underneath his arms (of which were covering his face). For a dramatic effect, Sans continued to snore and convince (Y/N) that he was asleep. The tone in Papyrus’s voice felt similar to one implying something; like he knew something that the human and comedian didn’t (or rather just Sans; (Y/N) apparently knows everything). But Sans brushed it off; Paps tended to jump to conclusions about many things, and 50% of the time he was wrong.

As for when the tall skeleton said that his brother already seemed to be growing fond of (Y/N), Sans tensed immensely under his arms. Well, Paps wasn’t exactly wrong; no one, not one person ever, had a soul like (Y/N)’s. It was the most magnificent Sans had ever seen, but it’s not like he was ever going to admit that out loud. He’d just told her that they were friends, for Pete’s sake! That’s more than enough emotional stress for one day. But, however, being considered “friends” with (Y/N) automatically felt…right. Like it was meant to be that way. Perhaps (Y/N) was just that kind of human anyone could get along with.

The same did not go for the Surface’s humans, based on the cruel insults that she’d said the jerks told about her when she had to wear her brace for 4 years. four years… damn. that’s a really long time, now that i think about it. Sans thought, and frowned under his hood. (y/n) said it was like being stabbed constantly 24/7… that’s a shit-load of pain. not to mention all the emotional stress by interacting with society. Sans furrowed a non-existent eyebrow, and pondered deeply.

how could people be so cruel to her? she’s so freaking smart, and funny, pretty- Sans flinched at his own thoughts, and pushed them away immediately from embarrassment. His bones shifted uncomfortably, and he adjusted his position on the table carefully to not give away his act. the point is that i said i was willing to get to know her better. as a supportive friend. is that already considered getting attached? if it is, i mean, how could i not? the girl freaking tackled me with a bear hug when she first met me! normal people don’t do that. but she isn’t normal…not at all…

Sans thought back to her soul again; how it changed colors frequently to all the different spectrums in a rainbow based on what she was feeling at the moment. He didn’t care that he was technically dreaming slightly perverted dreams, as in the monster society thinking about one’s soul was like thinking about boobs. He was just so fascinated by that specific aspect about her; no other monster would really understand him for that, as he was the lone Judgement Monster. He had abilities that no one else in the Underground could ever imagine, such as the ability to see into one’s soul and determine how much LOVE they’ve gained or how much EXP they’ve earned.

And with (Y/N) particularly, that was none. Although she had no “LOVE” within her, Sans didn’t realize that she was slowing receiving “love” from him every time she shared a laugh to one of his terrible puns, or made one of her own. Every time she cooked with Papyrus or made the tall skeleton happy, every time she brushed back a strand of hair reflexively, and even when she tested Sans’ patience to show that she wasn’t a complete wimp was very slowly but steadily increasing her “love”. It was just as the subconscious within Sans had feared; the more time that (Y/N) spent in the Underground making new friends with monsters, the more she was wrapping everyone’s emotions around her little finger.

And what scared him even more was the fact that he was already thinking these thoughts after only meeting her once and communicating with her here within his private sanctuary for a solid three hours. He couldn’t imagine what he’d be like after a week.

if the timeline doesn’t reset by then, he thought sourly. It was always around that time that Frisk did, and as depressing as it was, Sans had gotten used to it by now. Not being able to share any of his feelings with anyone, he locked himself up in his room. Away from where Papyrus, or anyone for that matter, would see him in his time of weakness. 

But now he could show those emotions. Because (Y/N) was here; the human from outside the game, who knew everything there is to know about Sans’s issues. Who knew and understood what he was going through, and how to deal with them perfectly. For that, he was extremely grateful. 

As much as Sans hated making promises, when he saw how big of a wreck the poor girl had been earlier, and how she let him comfort her during her times of heartache, he promised to himself inside his heart that he would not stop until all of her issues were resolved right alongside his. 

Because a human like (Y/N) didn’t deserve to be unhappy. 

For the first time in a couple of hundred timelines, Sans was determined to protect a human from all emotional and physical conflicts. Deep down inside of his beating soul, a force emerged from never before. Sans didn’t know it, but this force was festering into something bigger and stronger every moment he was around the human he now considered a friend.

And that wasn’t Frisk.

FIRST

PREVIOUS

NEXT

Chapter Ten (Where all the chapters before that are.)

Chapter Twenty (Links for Chapters 11 --> 19)

Chapter Thirty (Links for Chapters 21 --> 29)

#reader X sans #reader insert #sans x reader #frans #undertale fanfiction #undertale #fanfiction #sans #undertale sans #undertale papyrus #frisk #chara #papyrus #Skelebros #skelepuns #female anon #undertale anon #undertale au #anon x sans #anon #send me requests #request me #ask blog #undertale ask blog #rejection

[jacobsmith321]

Advert Analysis: Commercialised for adults

This advert is both a comical and serious one, as it’s use of music, scenery, tone and cinema change throughout it.

This advert is about a man called Brendan who is in spare room because he couldn’t pick up his wife. The video has funny music with a bummed tone, joking about how he’s in the doghouse with a narrator making a joke of the situation. It flashes back to him on the sofa relaxing as he’s had multiple glasses of wine. His wife calls him to pick him up as it’s raining and though he has said he’s drank a lot, his wife persists.

The lighting’s quite yellow and mellow, showing him relaxed and being rational, and as he’s thinking about picking his wife up, the music stops and the lighting turns blue, car skids and a crash sound can be heard; he and his wife are forced back onto the sofa bloodied and dead on the sofa (still in the living room), but after a few seconds, the lighting is yellow again, he casually gets back up and music goes back to normal, says he’s sorry that he can’t after his drinks of wine and his wife is annoyed.

They get back home and he’s in the spare room because his wife’s annoyed.

This advert is unexpected and ironic, but also shocking as it switches moods with the click of one’s fingers.

The irony of the advert is that the wife thinks it’s ok and gets annoyed with Brendan for not picking her up, but by Brendan no doing so he saved their lives, and though they’re ok they could have died.

It’s comedic as it tries to make it a “ooh, our lad’s in trouble with the Mrs, what’s he done this time?” situation, but as we’re watching it without any warning, he and his wife are dead instantly, emotionless with blood dripping on them, then it goes back to normal like it’s nothing, then you’re out of that jokey mood and you feel awkward for the rest of the video trying to think “is this funny” but in actuality it’s making you think that. It could be a metaphor for “oh you think drinking and driving is having a laugh and it’s not a big deal? well think again”, as their are dire consequences for your actions if you risk this.

As for cinema, the use of music and lightning really effects it as well, as yellow can be a calm and relaxing colour, showing happiness and warmth, while blue can relate to coldness and depression, as the sudden shift is like a chill you get down your spine, but then when the yellow light returns it feels warm and comforting like getting out of a bad situation. As for the music, it like when there’s a record scratch after something bad’s just happened, as it adds suspense and shock, but a sense of paranoia and wariness when the music comes back on, almost like nothing happened...but it did.

This can help me in my development as it shows that mood change can strike at someone and give us their full attention, as the drastic shift catches their eyes and makes them think about the message more.

[rigelocity]

A private sideblog I suppose?

i don’t care, i need a better place to post this (NSFW)

There were a couple of comforts about this place, the constellations being about the same as back home, the inconsistent time periods making it so she could sleep when it was light out and not worry about something sneaking up on her in the dark, the bright, excited eyes (or lack thereof) of the children as she told them stories she'd known by heart since childhood, stories they'd never heard.

Though by far, what she loved the most was the rain. It didn't come as often as she'd like it to, sure; but it would come around every so often. And when it did the air would stay warm, the water would fall as cold needles against her skin, but she would barely feel it.

Anita's pale skin rose in response to the cold water, shivers crawling pleasantly up her spine and goosebumps running up and down her arms. She'd been out in the rain practically since it had started; She'd convinced a bunch of the maids of the castle to come and get her if it started while she was still inside. She wasn't sure what they'd expected whenever they'd follow said instructions and come to get her, but she was sure it probably wasn't to grab her jacket from the chair it would rest on, pulling the clip from her hair and racing outside. Everything dropped in order to simply sit in the rain for hours.

She was still working at the pharmacy of course, dating the Prime Minister was in no way an invitation to getting a free ride, at least in her eyes it wasn't. The schedule of work was probably what was keeping her alive; she knew herself enough to know she was probably still very depressed—As dragged down as she's always been. But the rain was a nice outlit for her, a feeling, a smell, a temperature, a sound. Something that had always washed away her stresses back home, and here? Well here it helped her feel like a human being again. She'd chosen to stay, but unlike the others who were  slowly choosing the same, her heart remained where it was. Possibly due to her refusal to accept the world as it was, pushing for a better future was a neverending job. But either way she remained from her own dimension, her heart still beat with a thumping noise, and her gray eyes remained visible to all who looked.

Somehow she felt it, sometime down the road, the door will open to return home once again, and when that day came, she'd have to take it.

That would be the day she died.

But that day had not come yet, and she needed to be alive to meet it when the day did come.

And in order to do that, she had to remind herself she was human every so often, Enter: the rain.

After what felt like barely minutes she saw the light behind the clouds, going from the pale rainclouds of a midday shower, to the barely luminescent glow of a sunset downpour. She hoped this one would hold, she loved the way the clouds glowed when it rained at sunset. The world darkened and the clouds became a deep indigo, but the horizon to the west ignited in a fierce fire.  The light reflected onto the water and made the nearby parts of the clouds turn a deep red.

Yeah, Sunset rain was possibly the most beautiful time for rain.

For all the flaws that it was steadily trying to fix, this world was barely rolling its way through the the industrial revolution. The sky was pure and untainted, when the sun set it was a pure orange, not the red she'd grown up looking into.

But all the same the water pounded down, not too light that it was barely satisfying, but not so hard it would bring pain with it. She closed her eyes and brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin in the space between.

Her eyes never strayed from the horizon, brown hair steadily soaking and simple clothes clinging to her form. Usually when she got like this, one of two things would happen, she'd eventually snap out of her self imposed trance and get up to leave before she came down with something, or someone would find her. But like always when it rained, she didn't openly consider this until it would inevitably happen.

For a timeless eon she sat there, thoughts for once not running a mile a minute, simply focused on the sky, and the rain that fell from it. Mind and body consumed in one natural phenomenon with a determination she couldn't quite place while active.

Her thoughts and lackthereof were derailed at the sudden lack of rain over her head. All around her the rain kept pouring down, but no longer on her. She looked up and sure enough there was a red umbrella above her, held by a pleasantly bemused Peter.

“Hey.” She stated simply, and he huffed out a small laugh. He'd caught her out here possibly the least, but not out of any lack of noticing, simply because he wasn't often wandering around when it was raining. Maids and guards tended to find her first, or Patricia; but he was well aware of her strange habit. He'd long since grown used to her in some of Tricia's clothes but barefoot, scrubbing her long hair dry with a towel, but he never seemed to let go of the amusement that arose whenever he found her sitting in the open, soaked to the core.

“Why must you do this?” he crouched down to be closer to her eye level, still holding the umbrella over both of their heads, and clearly not interested in sitting down in the wet himself, but small victories. She'd get him out here with her one day. “You must be crawling with bacteria and you're going to catch something.”

“Hey!” She interjected “Rainwater barely has anything in it, its pH is almost exactly 7, The only stuff that gets in it is toxins in the air, stuff we breathe in. And I'm not gonna get sick.” She rolled her eyes, playful smirk hopefully enough to prove her joking tone. “I've been loitering in the rain since I was a child. In winter. My immune system is a cast iron wall, I only get sick once a year.”  

He looked upwards for a moment, from what Anita had gathered so far, that was most likely the 'questioning life choices' face. Peter knew he wasn't the easiest to read when he wasn't either ecstatically happy or ready to shoot someone, and he'd been trying to be more expressive lately. Something she could appreciate, both for the public image he was forced to keep up and for the fact that it made keeping proper communication all the easier.

“Are you going to insist I try staying out here with you now?”  Anita said nothing, simply scooted over so she'd be back under the rain, patting the spot on the stone she'd just cleared.

“You don't have to ditch the umbrella, you don't have to sit on the ground, I just think you'd like it!” She responded. And she really did think so, and while she knew Peter had problems with saying no to anyone he was involved with, she generally tried not to abuse that knowledge unless she really was trying for something she thought he'd end up liking.

He looked back out into the distance, before sighing and shifting his grip on his umbrella, small smile on his face. “For you then, Aneetah!” He didn't fully sit down, and she didn't expect him to, but he did lean his umbrella a little against his shoulder and relax his stance.

But alas, Wonderland weather, just like Wonderland time, was unpredictable. Just as she had leaned back onto her hands to let the rain wash over her again, now with company, did it end.

“Well shit...” she huffed, more than a little put out. Sunset had ended with the rain it seemed, for when the clouds parted it revealed a late night sky, skipping right over twilight and early night. Jupiter twinkled happily at her from the center of the sky, and the moon lit the clouds around it in a white glow.

At the very least the comedic timing of the event had a proper reaction, Peter lowered the umbrella to rest on the ground with his shoulders positively shaking with concealed laughter.  She really liked the look on his face whenever he did that, the way his cheeks would turn red, and his lips would pinch closed around a crooked smile. Anita's grin turned a bit wry, if there was one thing that was cuter though...

She darted out and prodded his side with two fingers, The shrill yelp that pierced through the air as her boyfriend lost his balance and went crashing onto the wet ground was possibly the most hilarious thing she'd ever heard.

She curled inward as she laughed, hair swinging forward with her motion and sticking to her cheeks. The air around the castle was quickly starting to cool to go along with the late night surroundings, and that meant the water was cooling with it, Peter just got a side of water far colder than expected.

She cracked her eyes open around her near violent giggles to see him propping himself up on his hands, legs sprawled out awkwardly and sitting in what was definitely a puddle, staring at her speechless, Maybe it was bunny biology acting up and she'd finally gotten him into that 'surprised freeze' she'd heard so much about. Maybe that was a real perk about dating a rabbit person.

“Sorry... I ah... I couldn't resist...” she bit out around laughter. There were a couple of things she expected to happen from there, But none of them were worth talking about because none of them ended up happening.

What did happen however was Peter taking her compromised position and twisting it to his advantage, before she could react beyond a small squeal he'd pounced onto her, arms wrapped around her shoulders and the dry side of his face pressed against her wet hair.

“At least have the decency to make the prank symmetrical!” he pouted, just a trace of indignant huffyness in his voice. The small tremble in his voice showing he at least did see the comedy in the prank. Or maybe that he was happy she'd laughed so hard, Peter's enjoyment in his partner's enjoyment was something she didn't understand when it was directed at Alice and she didn't understand it now, but she wasn't about to complain.

“Everyone's a critic.” she bit back, but all the same relaxed into his grip; she'd been out for a bit so her skin had grown used to the temperature, but Peter hadn't been out for near as long—he was still rather warm, and the night air was perfectly juxtaposed with his warm body. The faintest ticking echoed in her ears, but whether that was the clock he wore on his hip or the clock in his chest was something she couldn't quite tell.

One of his hands drifted from her shoulder to her chest, and if it were anyone else she would have slapped them for copping a feel, but he knew better than to do such a thing to her. He might be a master marksmen and a fair swordfighter if need be, but she was better at fist fights, no, what he was doing was basically what she was, his hand was over her collarbone, not anywhere gross; He was feeling her pulse.

She sighed contently and leaned further into his arms, Just enjoying the silence. The trees loomed in the distance, the darkness of the night blackening them to pitch; they could be hiding anything in their dark embrace. But for once, the sight didn't send a spike of cold terror through her gut—Because her boyfriend's arms were warm and strong around her, and he was a protective vaguely psychopathic gunsman. She was safe.

Gently, she lifted her hands to take Peter's hand, the one over her heart, and rolled back his sleeve a bit. Just to show a bit of pale skin beyond his glove.

“Anita?”

She answered by pressing her lips to the underside of his wrist. The arm still wrapped around her shoulders tightened, Peter letting out a short but pleased hum.

“Ahhhh, You're such a romantic Aneetah!” he chirped, She felt something warm press against the back of her neck, parsing it's way through her slowly drying hair. It took her a second to realize he was kissing the back of her neck. She chuckled quietly, more at the comment then the action.

“Says the rabbit who spouts verse at the littlest prompting,” she hummed, gently pulling away from Peter so she could stand. “Come on, you're gonna catch something if you don't dry off.” It was hard to tell in the darkness but she could hear Peter grumble a bit at the distance before following her lead.

“Very true my love, the last thing either of us need is to be bedridden and seeping germs everywhere!” he still offered her his arm and together the both of them headed back inside the castle.

Anita's entire outfit was wet so that meant she needed to borrow some of the spare clothes that were almost always packed into any number of rooms, including the one she'd unofficially claimed when she overshot her time here and needed a place to nap, or sit quietly because everything was too loud and she was overloading.

The towel that was left on the bed was warm, like it had been held over a heater seconds before she'd reached the room. At least the rest of the room had been warm too, as had Peter even before that, else she might have made several embarrassing noises at the press of the towel to her head.

The nightgown she'd selected from the stuffed dresser was a long white nightgown, it was kind of like her pajama shirt back home in the way that draping it across her broad shoulders generally meant it fell in every unflattering angle possible; but it was either the long proper nightgown or one of the blood red short dresses that honestly looked more like lingerie than something to sleep in.

After she was changed she pulled the curtains in the room open, the pale moon above blinking down at her. The window was enormous. It seemed as though she weren't the only person here who absolutely loved staring up at the night sky. She could even see out the window for the most part when she was laying down and looking up.

Thankfully the room she'd claimed as her own faced one of the inner courtyards, the dark forest was nowhere near her line of sight, only the courtyard, the garden, and the nightsky beyond the castle wall.

Though it was hard to see much of anything with the lights inside the room lit as they were. She grumbled to herself and shuffled around the room again, this time turning off a number of lamps until the only light coming from her room was the lantern at her bedside. And sure enough, the watery moonlight filled the room with its pale glow.

She supposed if there was much of anything to be thankful for about her cowardly decision it was the fact that light pollution wasn't much of a thing. Pretty much the entire castle remained lit, sure, but other than it and Hatter Mansion there simply weren't enough big places with powerful enough lights to cause any damage to the night sky.

And oh, how the world lit up when the sun went down. To think, no matter what bubble dimension theories she could come up with, they were still on a rock somewhere in the universe, spinning at breakneck speeds, hurtling through an unending void.

A knock on the door quickly broke up her existential self comforting, prompting her to glance at herself in the mirror on the dresser—She'd pulled a brush through her hair, so despite it valiantly trying to retain its usual fluffy nature it was for the most part in order—and rush for the door.

“'Sup dude?”

She didn't know what it was about dressing even remotely girly that made her revert into her 'tough girl from NorCal' persona, but she always did.

Peter, for his credit, looked like nothing had happened, like he'd simply snapped his fingers and dried off—and for all she knew about how these people could manipulate their time, he could have—and was simply wondering what was keeping her from heading over to his room.

And if the way his pale cheeks had quickly turned red meant anything, he just found out. Now, she didn't know much about cultural practice from anytime before the 1950's or so, but she was pretty sure in about this era, girls didn't run around in their pajamas when the majority of the household was awake.

After a moment where there was nothing but silence, as her amusement and his shock faded a bit, her dweeb boyfriend finally spoke.

“I've never seen you in sleepwear from the castle.” He stated, cheeks still just a bit pink, if anything it went lovely with the smile curling onto his lips. “It suits you.” Now it was her turn to blush a bit, now she was never much of a blusher yeah, but her neck did feel a bit warmer when she folded her arms and jerked her head to the side a bit.

“You coming in or what?” Peter, thankfully, didn't need to be invited twice, the second she stepped aside he made his way in.

“Why did you turn off your lights?” He asked, moving slowly as to not bump into anything. It was funny, how different he acted around her compared to how he used to act around Alice.

Maybe that was her influence, but she was pretty sure it was just the fact that his affair with Alice was kind of a clusterfuck. A whirlwind of a romance which, if he'd been telling her the truth all that time ago, was his first romance entirely. It made sense in that case, the first love was always a bit of a clusterfuck. Everything's new so it's really easy to get manic.

She remembered her first romance and wow.... she really did hate 13 year old her. So she could understand.

She strolled over to the bed and sat on the side closest to her, patting a spot beside her for Peter to sit.

“You know what I love best about your world?”

“Hm?” And now he was beside her, With how immaculate his outfit looked, even in the dim glow of the moon, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe instead of speeding up the drying process he didn't just have dozens of pink shirts and red plaid blazers.

“How dark the world gets when the night cycles come.” Maybe even with the trauma and the Nyctohylophobia, she was still a bit of a creep; because holy hell did that sound ominous when it came out of her mouth.

“Does it not get dark during the night cycles in your word?” He didn't seem too affected by her spookyness at least. Maybe it was the nightgown.

“It does, but not where I'm from. There are so many lights that go on to ensure people can see. And that's good sure, it decreased the amount of crime, but the light pollution makes it impossible to see more than a couple of stars.”

“Ahhh.” He hummed in response, slowly, almost tentatively wrapping an arm around her shoulders. There was an odd sort of hesitance in his voice then, like he was carefully thinking his words over. “I know how much you love the stars. That must have been frustrating.”

She hummed and leaned against him, the slightest smile on her face. The society of wonderland mixed with his own problems had made Peter quite the bitter person when she'd first met him. He'd started trying with Alice, She had never taken his shit and he'd tried to be better. And now that he was with her, Anita could see the difference between the man who held her now compared to the man who'd once criticized her fascination with this place for no real reason.

“Yeah, but that just makes me appreciate what's here.” She could feel the gloomy thoughts at the edge of her mind, wanting deeply to compare her old doomed world to Wonderland, but what was the point in ruminating on that while she had someone in the room with her?

“I see...perhaps your world lacked as many stars in the sky because their light was lended to your eyes.”

Goddammit. How on god's green earth was this the same person who sounded like it was pulling teeth to thank her for treating his wounds back in the forest?

“Don't do that. Please don't get all poetic on me.” she felt him shift a little underneath her, his nose pressed right above her ear.

“Hm? Why ever not, My constellation freckled beauty? You deserve to know your worth.” Why was he like this? Her face felt so hot right now, there was no way he didn't know she was red as a tomato in the dark room.

“Because I'm in pajamas, it's dark, we're cuddling on my bed, and I'm like ninety-eight percent sure your victorian sensibilities might kill you the second you realize what all of that can imply.” She was well aware of course, that despite the technology and the aesthetic, there wasn't as much Victorian era structure in Wonderland. But she was allowed to be a bit facetious.

Peter chuckled and she could feel the vibration against her shoulder and directly in her ear. And well.... that didn't make her cheeks feel like returning to their normal color anytime soon.

“I'd like to think myself a Gentleman Anita, but I have a tendency to fall rather short on that regard.” His voice wasn't necessarily raspy or raw, but there was a roughness that she knew he just used for the sake of the drama. In a way though, it worked. A small shudder crawled its way up her spine, reminding her very intimately of just how sensitive her skin could get after rain.

But Anita Hazel Bishop was not someone to be outclassed.

“Oh, really?” She shifted against him, just so she was facing him. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark and in the watery moonlight, she'd like to think he looked lovely. Snow white hair turned a blue-ish silver and red eyes nearly glowing against the dark. She tilted her head, hoping that her hair fell just so so that her neck would be exposed. Hoping beyond all hope that she actually looked alluring instead of as silly as she felt. “Just how ungentlemanly do you think I could get you before the night ends?”

His eyes darted to her exposed neck then, and she counted that a success. Though it was possible he was just looking at the scarring along the base of her neck. She hoped not though; it would be really embarrassing to be trying to be sexy but the only thing your boyfriend could focus on was the remnants of tortures you'd experienced not so long ago.

“Oh Anita...” he hummed, small crooked smirk lighting on his face. He reached for her, and Anita took a deep breath, waiting, only to feel his gloved hand reach up to tuck a stray tuft of hair behind her ear. “Is that a challenge, my love?”

She raised her hand to meet his, and slowly peeled off his glove.

“You bet it is, alfalfa huffer.” She pressed a kiss to the heel of his palm.

It was hard to tell in the light, but she thought he might be blushing, with how his eyes kept darting from her to his hand. She leaned her head into his hand, unlike her own hands his were soft. If that germaphobe nature of his brought anything, it brought soft skin unburdened by callouses.

Slowly, almost regretfully, he started to pull his hand back, she made sure the tips of her fingers dragged against the back of his hand, the tough skin on the pads of her fingers barely scratching against him.

The air seemed warmer now, maybe that was the heater for the room finally kicking in, but she felt like it was more the mood. A challenge had been issued, one that was probably gonna end in the same thing no matter what. One result was proving her seduction prowess and the other proving Peter's self control. Both things that neither of them usually boasted, so in a way it really was a challenge for the both of them.

“Oh Peter...” she hummed, voice dropping as low as she could without it sounding unnatural. Smooth, silky, That's how people describe sexy voices in books and stuff, right? “I'm going to enjoy this.”

He grinned a bit at her then, like he could see the numbers zipping behind her eyes. “Are you?” he hummed, purposefully leaning back, hands propped up behind him. “Because I can assure you, I can be quite restrained when I so choose.”

“Oh yeah?” She leaned forward, one hand splaying on the mattress, and the other gripping his knee. Corduroy as a texture was generally something she avoided, but she'd handle it. She picked up her legs and slid them beneath herself as she leaned in. “How many people you think would laugh in my face if I told them you said that?”

She lifted the hand leaned against the bed, tugging the strings keeping her nightgown tight to her shoulders loose. She'd never seen herself as particularly attractive, especially compared to the majority of the women she'd met here—both fellow outsiders and residents—so honestly? She never quite got just what Peter saw so lovely about her, but the way his eyes raked over her now bare shoulders...

Made it almost feel like there was something worth looking at beyond the ugly scars.

Her newly freed hand traveled up his torso, making sure the tips of her fingers trailed against his chest as she slowly tugged his tie from its spot within his blazer.

“Just because...” He paused as she undid his tie “Just because I choose not to be restrained for the most part does not mean...” She undid the top button of his shirt “that I can't. Others opinions mean nothing in this situation.” She grinned a bit, eyes narrowing.

Upping the ante it is.

“I see... but maybe you forgot something,” she purred, letting go of his knee to rest her hand on his shoulder instead, one of her legs sliding out from under her to link around his. “I do my research before I start experimenting.”

She almost wished she'd left the lights on in the room, because if his dumbfounded expression meant anything, it meant he must be as red as a goddamn firecracker.

“Oh?” She could see his hands tighten into fists from her periphery, crumpling up the bedsheets in his deathgrip.

“Yeah, my upbringing was a lot more... liberal than you might expect.” his eyes darted away from her and Anita's smile grew.

She leaned into the leg tangled with Peter's, her hands slowly beginning to comb through his hair. The snow white tresses were as soft and neatly kept as she could have expected from him, She practically felt the shiver that climbed up his spine as her fingers brushed the bases of his ears. His eyes reflexively squeezed shut, but he nodded into her hands slightly. Slowly, his ears lowered to response, easily in her grasp if she reached for them.

Honestly, he should have known better than to challenge her on something so tenuous as his composure, but alas, pride.

She curved her back upward, looming over his newly exposed neck.

“I have read scores of erotica, just for this moment Peter.” she breathed, There was a noise that came out of him, and while she was sure he'd deny it immediately after their … events... ended, she knew it was a squeak.

“Don't take it too hard” She grabbed the ear closest to her, fast enough that he couldn't pull away, but making sure she wasn't brash enough to hurt him. “You never stood a chance.” She brought his ear to her mouth and kissed the pink inner skin.

He grabbed her wrist with a hand and hastily pressed his mouth against hers.

She chuckled into the kiss, but it seemed like Peter didn't really care about the results of the bet, and really, she didn't either.

The results would have been the same either way.

She released his ear and slid her free hand into his hair, it was soft, practically like silk between her fingers.

The air felt electrified, every shift and movement sent shudders up her spine, anticipation like latent static under her skin, releasing with the littlest of motions and bringing goosebumps back up her arms. Anita pulled away a bit, and pointedly ignored Peter's small mumble of discontent as she leaned into his neck, she still hadn't gotten the majority of his shirt off, but she worked at what was exposed to her. She kissed lightly right beneath his jaw, peppering as much pale skin as she could reach, burrowing her nose into the pink fabric of his shirt to reach the base of his neck. She hummed at the feeling, an airy soap smell filled her nose, something she was silently sure he always carried on him.

“You're warm” she mumbled against his neck. He shuddered beneath her and she chuckled in response, his grip on her wrist lessened, but his other hand wrapped around the small of her back, protective, safe.

“So are you.” He murmured, the rumble of his words vibrating against her.

Slowly, as delicately as she could, button by button she began to undo his blazer, when the last button came undone he helped and shrugged off his blazer and tie, for a moment Anita thought he was going to stop to fold his clothes properly, but was more than a little pleasantly surprised when he just carefully set them on the foot of the bed. Reluctant as he seemed to pull away, his hands didn't return to her waist right away. He'd pulled off his other glove, and it seemed like her legs were his current fascination.

His touch was soft, almost reverent, as he dragged his fingertips across the side of her thighs, lingering on any scars that came his way and making her stomach do weird, self conscious flips.

“You uh... you have... equipment on you, right?” She drew back to look at him, and Peter, unfortunately, looked pretty lost.

“Uhm...”

“You know, Lubrication? Condoms? Peter this is our first time together and it's my first time at all, If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right.”

To his credit he didn't shrink away from the nitty gritty.

“Oh that kind of supplies! I thought you meant like... Kink stuff.” She was just about to ask—just a mote incredulously—why she would be asking about kink stuff during their first time together, but he was already shifting the two of them, carefully laying her down onto the bed and kissing her lightly. “Just one moment then, My love.”  and then darted to the door.

The room felt significantly colder, but all the same Anita took the moments of quiet to gather her thoughts.

This was happening.

Somehow, someway, this was happening. Peter White, the Psychopathic Prime Minister himself, thought she was attractive enough for this to be happening.

He wasn't shying away from her scars like she thought he would, if he thought they were as ugly as she did he wasn't showing it.

Christ, how was this her life now? Her shadows are always behind her, but there are days where she feels so far away from the scared girl with a camera that started this journey. She didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

She decided to take off her nightshirt—leaning against the headboard and staring out the window in her underwear, god she felt like a character from a pulpy romance novel. The gnarled scars that littered her skin were obvious, even in the dim light, but for once she told the horrible shame goblin in her brain to shut the fuck up.

Because tonight she was gonna get laid by someone who didn't care about her scars just so long as he knew they were thoroughly cleaned before they healed (they were)

When the door opened again she turned carefully, her hair thankfully did not smack her in her face and instead settled behind her.  

“Okay everything's in order. I'm sorry for the wait my love, if I'd known this was the direction the night was headed I'd have prepared far more..” Peter trailed off, for a moment he was frozen in the doorway, the light from the hallway against her eyes made seeing him as more than an amorphous dark blob basically impossible.

“Uhm... Peter? Can you close the door please? I'm kinda going blind here...” he seemed to jolt into action at that, quickly coming back into the room in full and shutting the door behind him. “Chill out, if you get too stiff you're gonna end up rushing things and then nobody's gonna enjoy themselves.”

It wasn't exactly easy to make out his expression—she was still blinking the light spots out of her eyes—but he was nervous. She could tell in how he lingered in front of the bed, not sitting down, not doing much of anything.

“Sorry” He said, finally deciding to sit in the same space he was in before as he toed out of his shoes. “I just... You look so beautiful against the night sky like that, I was taken aback. Are you quite sure you aren't a descendant of some sort of sky goddess?”

The laugh came out in a surprised burst, even she didn't expect it until it was past her lips. Hopefully he didn't take too much offense.

“You don't need to keep up the flattery, we're already gonna bang.”

“Bang?”

“Slang from my world it... well I guess you can assume what it means.” he nodded stiffly, and well, she was more than done with taking so long. She leaned back onto the headboard of the bed, her head just barely resting on the glass. “Get over here champ, let's get started while there's still some night in the sky.”

Peter didn't need to be told twice.

This time it was his face buried into her shoulder, but instead of enjoying the warmth as she did, he trailed kisses and tiny bite marks down her neck and shoulder, small red patches left behind from every assault.

He reached a spot just between her neck and her shoulder and she stifled a laugh, she'd thought she'd grown out of a ticklish neck, but that didn't seem to be the case. He hummed and lingered there longer, taking the time to spread his hands across her body. She could feel one still raking up and down her thigh, the other started on her stomach, palm down over her navel, and from there wandered around her torso, finding that spot between her stomach and her hip bone that twitched under any touch and made her giggle.

He hummed against her neck and she felt his nails scratch at that spot, there was only a small bit of pain in that, before a groan made its way from her throat. She was starting to feel restless, she needed to do something here...

Steadily she began to unbutton Peter's shirt, his pale skin revealed more with every undone button, she felt him twitch under her hands as she dragged her fingertips over his chest.

“Goddamn...” she huffed, more than a little appreciative. She always knew Peter had to be at least decently in shape from all the stunts he'd pulled, but damn. The lithe muscle beneath her touch was far more impressive than she'd expected. There was the thinnest bit of softness along his stomach of course, this wasn't exactly television. And Anita could only think of just how comfy that'll end up being when everything's over.

She felt him chuckle and once the shirt was only hanging on by his elbows, Peter helpfully shrugged it the rest of the way off, tossing it vaguely in the direction of where the rest of his clothes had gone.

She yelped when she felt his mouth land on her collarbone, right at the edge of one of her more prominent scars. The hypersensitive skin in the area jolting in a weird mix of pleasure and pain.

“Hey, careful. If I end up bleeding from any scars by the end of this I'm giving you one.” Peter chuckled and she could feel it in her sternum, goosebumps returning to her skin from the sensation. Damn.

“Of course.” The hand that had been otherwise exploring her torso finally made its way to the edge of her bra. Anita's head fell back to hit the glass again, and as she felt his fingers skid along the edge of her bra, tickling her ribs and heading to the clasp at the back, she felt his mouth leave her. She creaked an eye open in curioscity;

The moonlight that came through the window practically bounced against him entirely, his pale skin and white hair were near glowing in the darkness. He looked almost like a ghost. And for some reason, he was just... staring at her.

She decided to head him off and took her hands off his chest to undo her bra, tossing the worn down garment aside, still trying to parse out his expression.

“You okay?”

He didn't answer her, but he leaned in and kissed her, barely a peck, and leaned his forehead against hers.

“My moon and my stars.” He kissed over one of her eyelids, then the other

“Your beauty is rivaled only by your mind” the center of her neck

“Compassion as foreign as it is familiar” between her breasts

“Your freckles constellations, perfectly aligned.” her navel

She threaded her fingers into his hair again, his chest now out of her reach; her hands might have been shaking a little, she wasn't quite sure.

“Peter...”

He reached the space between her hipbone and her stomach, this time on the other side of where he'd scratched at her.

She yelped when his tongue ran across the sensitive patch of skin.

“Anita, you challenge me in ways I never thought possible. But no matter what arguments you give, one thing remains the same.”  he leaned up to kiss her stomach again, this time at the very center of one of her scars.

She had to take a breath just to keep her voice from trembling. “And what are you too stubborn to admit defeat on?” he smiled then, maneuvering himself to wrap his arms around her lower back, head resting on her stomach.

“I love you.” Of course. She huffed out a light chuckle, removing her hands from Peter's hair and resting them on either side of the both of them.

“Sap.”

“Only for you Aneetah” He chirped. For a long moment he merely lay there, nuzzling into the space between her breasts and her stomach, before he shifted positions and Anita felt something press against her shin.

Only Peter...

“Okay babe, I know you have that whole thing with nuzzling” She gently grabbed Peter's shoulders and pried him away from her. “But seems to me you're just as willing as I am to not stop here.” His lips flattened and Anita instinctively knew he was blushing at being called out like that.

She reached down to take his hands in her own, smiling crookedly when his expression dropped into surprise. Okay, she could do this, just had to...

She lunged forward, using her position against the window to push Peter back, until his back hit the bed and she was straddling his hips.

“Come on, I haven't been researching shit like this since I was fifteen just to do nothing when it finally happens.” He blinked up at her in surprise. She kissed him gently before pressing her waist onto his, grinding their hips together.

He gasped, whether in shock or pleasure she wasn't sure, his back arched under her and she sat up straight again, half sitting on Peter's thighs, half on her knees, she released his hands and began to trail them down his chest.

“Speaking of which, this is probably gonna get messy, so if you can't handle it don't feel the least bit guilty to say so, okay?”

“Alright, but I believe I'll be fine. I want to do this Anita, mess can be cleaned up.” She huffed in surprise.

“That's the most Zen thing I've ever heard you say...”  She leaned in before he could respond to bite down onto the crook of his neck. Carefully now. She ran her hands up and down his chest, soft skin feeling almost alien against her calloused fingers. Her mouth sucking down a pink mark or two along his neck, moving steadily to his collarbone and down to his chest, her hands sliding down to his middle.

The slightest bit of fluff along his stomach—a soft cushion to the lean muscle beneath.

She felt him twitch underneath her, and grinned against his chest.  She bit down gently in the center of his sternum, and let the tips of her fingers run against the very edge of his pants—slowly searching for the clasp that would begin the true fun.

Peter hummed, the noise vibrating low in his chest and tickling her nose as she traced a finger along the rim of cloth, finally stopping at the brass button keeping his pants together. She tugged at it experimentally, and it seemed he was just as eager to get the show on the road as she was. She felt his hands slide up to clutch at her hips, but all the more felt his gaze as he watched her, waiting.

She took a deep breath, and undid the button. Eyes shutting in anticipation as she took either side of his pants (and hooking her thumbs into his boxers as well) and tugging.

Peter sighed above her, whether in releif of alleviating pressure or at the stimulation she didn't know, she didn't really care to know.

Oh Ishtar above, this was happening. This was really happening. Her heart was thrumming so hard in her chest she could feel it in her fingers—still gripping at the fuzzy corduroy of Peter's pants. She could do this. She's done the research, she's done the practice runs catfishing creeps online, she could do this.

Her lips pinched together when she'd psyched herself up enough to open her eyes. Peter was half hard beneath her, She had to act soon or he might think something was wrong, what would be best done before he had to prepare her? Probably get him all the way hard, but what would be the best way to do that? Her hand? Her mouth?

“Anita?”

She'd never done something like this with her mouth before. All the text said that people can gag on someone's dick, but if she gagged her body might try to puke, she was already pretty nervous so it might be more sensitive than normal.

“Anita, are you feeling alright?”

So should she be safe and go with her hand? Would that be boring for him? Her hands were calloused as all heck, and that might have worked in her favor with the foreplay but would it be painful in such a sensitive place?

"Anita!" she jumped at the noise, a sudden jolt through her veins as his voice brought her back to the present. "If you're not okay with this I can take over.. or we can stop." There wasn't any sort of strange tone in his voice but all the same Anita felt a wierd kind of dissappointment at the idea....

"No... no I'm fine." She went for a small crooked smile and gently squeezed Peter's thigh, before slowly decending, wrapping her pale pink lips along his long shaft. It tasted... different, than she'd expected it to. She'd heard stories, from both friends and from her fellow outsiders, and even from her research, that there was a certain flavor, to a man's... well to a man's dick. Some sort of bitter mix of skin, sweat and precum, or whatever it was those stories were describing. Whatever it was she'd always silently dreaded it.

But this wasn't... too bad. Well, it wasn't good, but she more than appreciated the shocked choke of air that came from Peter's mouth, a strange gasp that trembled at the edges and the vibrations that reached her down along his cock.

She hummed, a mix of curiosity and pleasure in her voice before she descended on him further, he strangled out a breath and she had to fight off a pleased chuckle. Now, he wasn't fully hard yet, she knew that much, his shaft was certainly twitching in interest, but she hadn't gotten him all the way there yet, and before things could get really started she had to focus.

She sucked gently, passing her tongue along the head of his cock, and from the corner of her eye she saw him curl his hands into the blankets beneath them.

"Oh god..." He hissed between his teeth, and Anita felt the triumph surge through her, there was an inherent sort of power in that, wasn't there? She pulled her mouth away, gently stroking his shaft with her hand instead, just to get a good look at him.

Peter had thrown his head back for the most part, sprawled along the bed and trying his best not to be too loud. Rabbits, she supposed. But at the removal of her mouth his head curled back against his chest, eyes squeezed shut, and face blotchy and scarlet.

Absolutely beautiful...

"Anita..." he groaned out, and Anita hummed, continuing to stroke him, She wasn't a sadistic woman, but there was something... oddly entracing, about how he peeked at her now, under his lashes, beseechingly but trying his best all the same.

“Yes?” she smiled and gently began to tease the head of his cock. She raised a brow when he started to prop himself up on his elbows. “Use your words Peter.” She was just about to give in and go back to putting her mouth on him when he reached forward and gently cupped her cheek.

It took him a few breaths before he spoke, but when he did his voice was free from any tremors “Let me pleasure you my love” He breathed, voice low and rough, and to be completely honest Anita's brain jumped tracks a couple of times.

“I uh... I said I was fine.” She responded intelligently. Maybe he meant that he wanted to move on to the main event? She'd always wondered how it felt to have someone's fingers in her so it wasn't like she was against it, she just didn't think that would come until later.

Then again Peter wasn't really the most patient person.

“I know, and I belive you.” he dragged his thumb across her lips. “But I'm such a selfish Rabbit, I want to feel you.”and really, what could she say to that?

She nodded and pulled herself up until she was back to being eye level with him. He smiled and lightly kissed her cheek, his erection was pressed between them and from the way he shuddered beneath her he could feel every movement.

She took then to reach over and grab the lubricant, opening the little jar she was assaulted with the smell of coconut, the cloying overwhelming smell taking her aback in surprise.

“Coconut oil.” She stated simply. Old timey coconut oil too, granted she'd never had any cocnut oil that smelled so much back home.

“I've heard it's very good for skin, and it's slick to the touch.” she hummed absentmindedly at Peter's responce, rubbing some of the solid oil inside until it began to liquify under her touch.

“Yeah but it still feels pretty weird to touch, I can prepare myself so you don't have to deal with it.” She had sensory issues with this kinda stuff sure, but she knew something that felt even kinda gross to her would be an instant mood killer for him.

“I'm sure its not that bad.” He reached for the jar, but Anita pulled it away from him.

“Please, I get a little grossed out by it, it'd be sensory hell for you.” She inevitably just poked her fingers harshly into the surface of the oil, pulling out a clump of the pseudo liquid and rubbing it into her fingers.

It felt a little gross while it began to melt, but it started to get better as the oil started to become just that. Soon enough her three center fingers were shining against the moonlight and were ready.

It took a little bit of adjusting, but after sitting upright and straightening her back she was finally in the proper position to prepare herself.

She put a hand behind herself, resting on Peter's knee to steady herself, and took a deep breath. Her eyes were shut because if she opened them she might chicken out, andd slowly slid her middle finger into herself. She was already a bit slick with discharge, but the coconut oil definitely helped. Frankly she didn't feel much of anything, she could feel her finger moving around but it wasn't really much more than pressure. Nothing uncomfortable, nothing great. All the same she lightly began to rub at her clit with her thumb in an attempt to try and make things more pleasurable.

Thankfully that did work and small shocks off pleasure began to buzz up and down her spine as she moved her finger inside herself. Eventually she ended up knuckle deep and tried to curl her finger around inside herself, searching in vain for whatever nerve ending there was that was supposed to make this feel great. No dice.

She huffed and shook her head to ensure her hair wouldn't fall in her face, sliding her middle finger out and preparing for her ring finger to join it when she tentatively cracked an eye open. Gaze darting to the dark horizon, maybe in just a bit of embarrassment, she kept her eyes on the twinkling stars as she inserted her ring finger.

Oh... oh now there's the supposed stretch. She could feel spikes of pain begin to join the party as she started to work her ring finger into herself. She leaned a little heavier onto her hand, immediately starting to curl her fingers to try and find that supposed promisced land. She wasn't done here, she didn't want to call it quits just for a little unfamiliar pain.

And then finally, as she turned her hand just a bit, something happened.

She yelped in surprise as a quick burst of pleasure shot through her, She shuddered and pressed the very tips of her fingers onto the same spot, dragging a long moan from her throat as the feeling started to pulse through her body. She spread her fingers, trying to stretch herself a little more for the insertion of her third finger, and though she felt the burn of pain she would make sure to brush the same location of her G spot, the pleasure numbing the sting of pain.

By the time she was sliding her fingers out for her pointer finger to join in she was near addicted to the feeling, immediately re-finding her own G spot and pressing with even more force when she did so.

She heard Peter breathing heavily beneath her, felt his leg twitch under her hand, and carefully she slid her eyes down from the starry sky to see him.

His eyes were wide, darting from her hand to her face, he couldn't have looked more stunned than if she'd slapped him in the face.

She huffed, pressing herself even more onto her fingers, trying to go even deeper, this time not tearing her eyes away from him. He held his breath in a surprised gasp for a moment before glancing back up at her. He were watching her like she was a meteor shower, like something beautiful and indescribable.

She smiled down at him and he grinned back up at her.

“I love you.” He said, voice no higher than a whisper.

“I love you too.” She responded, her voice coming out a little breathier than she intended.

Maybe she was rushing things, but she was suddenly overcome with a need to have this happen immediately. She gently slid her fingers out of herself, feeling oddly empty at the loss, before reaching over to take the lamb skin condom from it's little pouch. She'd seen a bunch of diagrams and how-tos about the application of these things. It was simple it was just...

He gently took it from her and slid it on himself.

“Calm down” he said gently “You're getting too far into your thoughts again.” Cafrefully he took the jar of cocnut oil from its spot and pressed two of his fingers into the goey substance, and, much like what she thought, a shudder immediately crawled up his spine. “Though I do concur this feels disgusting.” he rubbed the oil between his fingers as quickly as he could to get it to melt properly, and began to run his hand up and down himself, Anita watched, transfixed, as he heaved a great sign of relief at the alleviation of pressure, head throwing back against the pillows.

It almost felt like an eon, watching him touch himself like this, stopping only to pry a bit more oil from its jar; knowing he was doing it for her, so that they could make eachother feel so good together. She ran her hands up and down his stomach and chest, feeling his breaths hitch a bit beneath her.

“Okay...” he finally said, eyes cracking back open to look at her. “I think that's enough, are you ready?”  She nodded and carefully moved herself over him.

It took a minute, to line herself up just right, her hands holding onto his hips and his hands on her forearms, but when she slid him into her the moment of struggle was all but forgotten. The stretch burned a bit, maybe she'd rushed her own prep process and wasn't quite as stretched as she'd hoped to be. She grunted a bit, trying to angle herself to find that place she'd found with her fingers, keeping a vice grip on Peter's hips.

Peter's eyes were squeezed shut, one hand clenching her forearm tighter, the other reaching up to cover his mouth. Little noises were coming out with every breath, Something that wanted to be moaning but was being stifled.

She slid herself further down onto his cock, every so often adjusting angles, but her focus was on hie response. He hummed, almost desparately, his teeth poking their way out to bite down on his own hand.

“Come on.” She said quietly, sat almost perfectly on him now. She leaned over just a bit, feeling the change in angle get touch a bit closer to where she wanted it. She gently took his hand and moved it away from his mouth. “I want to hear you.”

She ground their hips together, the pressure so close to where she wanted it, but just not there, the burn at the stretching slowly starting to go from painful to uncomfortable, and watching Peter's now free hand clutch desparately at the sheets.

Anita smiled to herself when he groaned out her name, all furrowed brows and red skin. And when she began to move he arched up to meet her.

Her breath was growing a touch short, her shoulders felt tense, the pain was still there, but it was weakening, she was almost at just the right angle, as she leaned forward just a touch harder, pressing their bodies together, it hit.

She let out a low moan and she felt his hands go from her forearms to wrap around her. In response she moved her own arms to clutch at his shoulders. She felt him buck up into her as she grinded down onto him, it didn't happen as much as she'd hoped, but every so often she'd feel his cock press up against her G spot and sparks would fly behind her eyes. Her breaths should be heavier, but they just weren't, they were getting shallower and shallower, she was starting to feel light headed, but that was probably just something like how mounting orgasms worked. She leaned up to mouth slightly at his neck, a small dark spot that must have been a hickey caught her eye and she spent some time in that aerea in particular, every so often moaning into Peter's skin when they both moved just right.

She could feel every heavy breath he took, every stutter in his hips, every little twitch of his fingers as they dug into her back. For a moment she'd wished he had a heart so she could hear it begin to race, but the steady ticking when she pressed her ear to his collarbone wasn't unwelcome.

For a bit, as they moved with eachother, drawing moans and gasps from eachother, it was something close to perfect. There were no civil wars, roles and cards, no such thing as demons that sleep in trees, It was good.

Until it wasn't.

She wasn't sure what happened, and she wasn't sure if she'd ever really know, but her shallow breathing stopped. She'd put a hand on his chest and rose up a bit to pause their movements, to try and catch her breath, but even with her mouth open and their motions stopped her breathing wouldn't return to her. Her shoulders were cramping, so were her calves.

And suddenly the pain was back.

Whether out of surprise or mounting panic at her inability to fill her lungs she pulled herself off of Peter and reflexively scrambled to the far side of the bed, leaning against the backboard and head raised high, supposedly the position that clears up the air way. High squeaks filled the air as she tried to force air into her lungs.

Peter might have tried to help, but when she saw him draw near the ringing in her ears had long since drowned out the rest of the room and she'd swiped at him.

Was this supposed to be an Asthma attack? She hadn't had an attack since she was a child! She'd thought after the demon and how many times she'd ran through the forest she hadn't needed it anymore.

But she couldn't breathe.

She was starting to see spots, her body was aching, her vagina was on fire, and she couldn't breathe.

Her vision was starting to go dark and she might have been about to pass out. She felt some sort of warm thing press against her side, she could distantly hear someone shouting, and she could hear a comforting, steady ticking in her ear over the din.

She thought idly about how if she didn't die from an asthma attack in the middle of sex she might die from embarrassment about nearly dying from an asthma attack in the middle of sex.

When she came to it was to the smell of cigarette smoke, and maybe just a bit of weed. There were soft sheets around her and they were warm to the touch. She could hear light snoring that wasn't her, and when she squinted open her eyes the room was lit up by a late afternoon sun. Knowing where she was who knew how much time she'd been out.

Anita didn't move for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling of her room in the castle and smelling the smoke.

She'd never cared to look too deeply into how certain disabilities were treated when they were in their treatable infancy, but she'd picked up a few things in her orders at the pharmacy, She wasn't sure when it started and ended in her world, but here a few dried leaves could be rolled up into cigarettes to work as makeshift antihistamines.

Belladonna, Strammonium, and Atropine, and apparently a bit of cannabis. Someone had gotten hold of Asthma cigarettes and let the room fill up with smoke.

When she finally started to gather the energy to move a little she noted that she was naked. Suddenly the reason as to why the room was full of Asthma cigarette smoke came back to her. She moved her arm just enough so that it could plant itself on her forehead dramatically.

She'd had an asthma attack.

In the middle of sex.

Her first time with Peter White completely ruined by her bitch-ass lungs. She let out a low groan, her lungs filling up perfectly, too little too late.

“Fuck you too genetics.” she croaked, her voice craggy and gross.

She heard more than saw someone wake up with a jolt, and before she knew it a very concerned Peter White was leaned over her. His long snowy hair was a mess in the warm afternoon glow and his glasses were askew.

More notably he was surprisingly under dressed, just slacks and his pink undershirt (untucked and halfway unbuttoned at that!) he wasn't even wearing his gloves. She felt his smooth fingertips as he stroked her cheek.

“Anita, how are you feeling?” he bit his lip and she felt the embarrassment of a thousand cringe worthy moments begin to claw up her spine, flushing her cheeks and making her dart her eyes away.

“Mortified but otherwise unharmed.” She answered. She heard him breathe a sigh of releif over her and while she normally would be happy about his obvious worry she just felt bad.

They were both enjoying themselves and she couldn't even complete what she started without her shit body getting in the way.

“I'm glad, you terrified me!” he gently grabbed her chin and turned her head to meet his eye. “The way you just shrunk away, you looked like you were in so much pain.” Then his eyes darted away for a moment before looking at her again.

“We've all known your kind aren't replaceable, but that... really scared me.” his hand shook for a moment and Anita reached up to place her hand atop of his.

“I'm sorry, I thought I'd outgrown it, I haven't had an attack since I was twelve.” She glanced away again, this time to the edge of her bed. And there she caught sight of six or seven cigarettes all lit but very close to the ends of their tales, about a dozen more put out in the center of the ash tray. “The Asthma cigarettes were clever.” She idly noted, most likely the result of a quick on her feet maid. “But all the same, sorry for my shitty lungs wrecking everything.”

He shook his head and smiled down at her. It might just have been the light catching off his glasses but his eyes looked a touch brighter than normal. “There's no need to apologize my love, I'm glad enough that fate isn't taking you away from here just yet.”

He pressed his lips to her forehead and Anita hummed, cheeks turning just a bit red, but lungs filling up just as they should, and a small grin on her face.

“So how long do you have until Patricia starts sending maids to come retrieve you?” She asked idly, watching as his grin turned into a pout as his mind was brought to work and his duties.

“Perhaps an hour or two. I believe my assistant was willing to allow us some leeway granted her fondness of you.” He smiled again then before gently booping her nose. “But who wouldn’t be fond of you?”

“You three months ago.” She said flatly, the wry grin on her face hopefully showing the teasing remark for what it was.

Peter spluttered and she took his momentary distraction to scoot a bit further into the center of the bed.

“Come on, you've got an hour or two, my lungs might not be good enough for take 2 just yet, but cuddling sure as hell isn't out of the question.”

Peter's face went just a bit red, but now his grin matched hers and he pulled up the covers, neatly sliding into the space she'd just vacated.

When the Prime Minister had first discovered he'd fallen in love with Miss Alice Liddel, long before she'd even come to the land, the maids had often overheard his first stumbling attempts at poetry. The Prime Minister had always been rather eloquent, but prose and verse were strangers to him at the time. One or two maids with scars on their shoulders had even insisted that he'd demanded them to listen to his hastily written couplets and give feedback. They were, of course, subpar in the beginning, but they were able to avoid getting executed for speaking the truth by offering to assist.

Peter at that point had been so infatuated and so eager to be able to sway Alice with his words alone he'd allowed the offered help.

His personal maid Marianne specifically remembered those first awful sonnets, no girl would want her lips to be compared to spilled blood, and he was lucky the Queen never found the one that talked about how he was constantly surrounded by plain and boring women and how different and wonderful Alice had been.

She'd foolishly assumed, through whispers to her fellow maids in chapped lips wrapped around belladonna cigarettes, that the prose lessons would end when Alice had finally joined them, and then she'd hoped it would end when she allowed the Prime Minister to court her. But the lessons went on in both of those instances. He insisted that he could always be better with a viscous passion she knew his assistant would have loved him to take to his paperwork.

He'd made a lot of progress, learning to equate Alice's lovely form with that of flowers instead of viscera. Rose pink cheeks framing Cornflower blue eyes, while a touch cliche, was far better than what he used to come up with.

And then they'd broken up, and after a big enough bloodbath to calm the Prime Minister's nerves and balm his broken clock, Marianne had noticed a new poem scrawled into a scrap of paper dotted with card blood. He'd returned to his old comparisons, as though he'd been convincing himself of the passion he'd once had. That letting her go was worth it.

The poetry stopped for a long while then.

Marianne was honestly a bit relieved and quietly hoped to never be bugged about sonnets ever again. And in a way she did get her wish.

Time, no matter what, will always chug on, and no matter how all encompassing his love for Alice was, the Prime Minister had healed. He was out and about again, trying to see what else he could do with his life now that Alice was only in it as a friend.

But he got his paperwork in on time, and rarely messed his room up in bouts of frustration, so Marianne couldn't complain.

And then... something strange happened.

When he demanded that she saw to tidying up his room, he was distracted, and she heard him mumbling to himself about 'Presumptuous Outsider's and how unladylike said Outsider was. Now, Marianne had known that with the strange, almost fantastical, influx of Outsiders, that there were bound to be quite a few that would bump heads with Minister White. But the fact that he was actually lingering over whatever experience he'd had with this Outsider while any other situation would be all but forgotten with a few bullets in a soldier's head...

It was noticeable.

But then something even stranger happened. Minister White was out and about again, and while he often returned as annoyed as he always was there was... something different in his step. Something lighter. There were scrawlings in his notes that looked like counterarguments for an ongoing debate.

Weeks passed with that new norm, and then he'd brought an Outsider back to the castle. She was strange... stranger than other Outsiders at least. She wore a kind of trousers Marianne had never seen, a grey blue in color, but nothing that looked like real fabric, a simple grey blouse, and an overcoat with a cloak's hood.

Of course, Marianne didn't get a very good look at her, she was rather enraptured in her discussion with The Prime Minister. She didn't hear much of their discussion, busy as she was, but she'd heard Minister White laugh.

He'd only ever laughed in Alice's presence.

It was only a day or two after that when the poetry came back. But this time Marianne was not asked for feedback, Minister White seemed content with his prose.

The newest verses on his desk comprised of silver eyes and freckles dotted over sunkissed skin. An iron will that raced through 'her' veins, laughter laced with sadness, and a crooked humorless smile.

Marianne had first thought that her boss was perhaps ill; but he continued, through his poetry, to speak of the scent of dried flowers and stories of heroes, the alluring danger and strength of a woman carved from horrors beyond comprehension. A woman strong enough to lift a chainsaw far too large for her over her head, but gentle enough for the Pup to have claimed for her own.

The results were clear, the Prime Minister had fallen in love with a new woman. 'Anita Bishop' as the carefully written name within a heart indicated.

Somewhat vicariously, Marianne was happy.

#writings

[elchumpo]

2

Why?

What did I do?

The Florida sun beat down on my head as questions bounced around inside.

I’ve known her for so long, what was even the point?

I did everything right, I even bought a stupid fucking tie that matched her fucking stupid dr-

Tommy’s tray clattered onto the table. “You’re staring awfully hard at that sandwich.” He remarked as he sat down. “Yeah, I’m trying to see if I can become emotionally attached before eating it. Experience death while I’m still young, y’know?” I said as I continued glaring at my chicken melt. Normally I wouldn’t get a laugh but close friends have picked up on my humor. “Along with the guilt that you murdered it? Not to mention since you ordered it it’s entire conception is basically your fault.” Tommy stated as he chuckled at the already absurd conversation we were having. I scrambled for something clever to say but with Natasha on the brain there was room for little else. I gave up quickly as to not lose the small window of opportunity where comedic timing could save my response. “Eh, circle of life.” I said before shoving most my food into my mouth. This time Tommy audibly laughed, the most contagious one known to man. Between the joker-esque laugh and the face he made while doing it Tommy was pretty hilarious, and usually made me feel funnier too.

“But seriously” Tommy said as he cleaned and replaced his glasses onto his face. “What happened with Natasha?” Normally I liked opening up to friends but if I don’t have my own thoughts in order I just don’t want to talk about it yet, lest I say something I’ll regret. Besides Tommy and Natasha are friends, who knows what could happen. “Damn, I forgot to grab a drink. I’ll be right back, want anything?” Tommy was already out of his seat and walking towards The Green Truck, a mobile food service that was located right next to our high school’s cafeteria. “Uh, yeah!” I said as I gulped the rest of my Coke can down and threw it at him. “Another one of these?”

“You got it!” Tommy said, catching the can with practiced expertise. I looked around and spotted Vera, who was hard to miss. Either her loud voice or loud hair always made sure to keep her standing out. I almost called her over but she was with her older friends, not to mention her boyfriend. Not that they weren’t all types of rad, I was just intimidated. Beanies and hoodies ruled their group despite the ninety degree heat and I recognized one of them as my sister’s old drug connect. As a 16 year old virgin (of basically everything) you could understand my hesitation. It was a wonder Vera and I were even friends, she just started trolling me one day. It started off being whenever she had nothing to do but soon enough she was actively seeking me out to steal my phone, mispronounce my name, or argue about pokemon. Eventually she was giving me a ride home nearly every day from school, I think she felt sorry for me in some way. Not that I was complaining, sure I was just her social second banana, but being friends with a cute 18 year old never hurt anyone’s reputation.

Car rides! Thats where I heard that song she was humming earlier. I turned to look at her again but this time she was ready and waving. I was not prepared to immediately lock eyes with her and the mental hiccup showed on my face. She laughed and started heading towards me as I quickly turned around preparing for conversation. “Okay, I can talk about that song! Or maybe I should wait and she what she wants to talk about?” I was so wrapped up in my battle plan I hadn’t noticed Tommy approaching. “Jeezus dude what is with you today?” He said, placing my soda in front of me. I glanced back at Vera to see her progress towards me was stopped short by her boyfriend, Dick. Now Dick was a rather tall fellow, with muscles and hair to match. But the one thing Dick wasn’t, was a dick. Which is good news for Vera, right? Right.

“Right.” I said out loud, my attention shifting towards Tommy. “Uh, nothing. I guess I’m just reeling from the homecoming dance still.” Tommy glanced in Vera’s direction “Already thinking about next year’s date huh?” he said with a smirk. Visions of Natasha in her homecoming dress flashed through my mind. “Not even if I had a chance” I remarked, holding my head in my hands. “I don’t think I can deal with another pretty face for quite some time.” I sighed in disbelief. What did I do to end up here? “Speaking of pretty faces, Eliza wants me over tonight to shoot some more scenes for her drama class final.” Tommy half groaned. I perked up attentively, he had been complaining about his girlfriend for some time now. “Oh, are you still with her? I thought-” “Yeah I can’t really break up with her while I’m still her cameraman. I’d never hear the end of it.” He abruptly answered. “And if you’re avoiding Natasha how are you two going to finish your project?” My face sank deep into the table. “We already shot everything I just need to edit, which I can do alone.” I attempted reassure myself. “Besides, it’s a shitty love scene and the final isn’t due until the end of the year, I think I’ll hold off on that for as long as possible.” Filming that scene used to be such a happy memory, now it was tainted with the events of the past weekend. “Gee maybe you shouldn’t have picked a romantic film.” Tommy laughed, feigning ignorance. “Maybe I should just drop drama club, doing that and the drama class is causing too much... well, drama.” Tommy cackled over the sound of the lunch bell, reminding me that my life wasn’t my own just yet. Tommy opened my soda can and the satisfying “k-chak” brought me back to reality. “Cheer up man, I’ll catch you after school!” Tommy exclaimed over the noise of people gathering their things for the end of our lunch period. I frantically waved away the mental cobwebs.

“Byee Tommyy!” Came squeaking from behind me before I could respond. It was Shelly, our drama club’s self-proclaimed next president. Tommy threw her a wave before disappearing into the crowd heading back to class. “What’s up Shelly?” I asked curiously, we hadn’t talked too much before this but she has made it a point to keep tabs on most people in the drama club. She really was quite the go-getter. Shelly flipped her hair as her demeanor softened even more than usual, her incredibly large eyes looked up at me as words were expelled from her petite mouth. “You seemed down this morning, I wanted to check and see if you were alright for rehearsal.” Her concern and adorableness were a bit sudden and I found myself caught off guard once more. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I said while taking a sip of soda to safely break eye contact. “Okay!” She said with a subtle tone of defeat in her voice. “I’ll text you later!” She continued with no trace of it left as she scurried off to her next class. I never gave her my number, she must’ve taken it from the drama records. “She could probably stage my murder and get away with it.” The thought shot across my mind as she called out to me one last time. “Byeee Donnyyy!!” I stood there absent-mindedly waving in her direction.

Nobody calls me Donny.

#story #romance #bullshit #el chumpo