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messers-moony · 3 years

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Lavender | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Fem!Reader

Summary: Sirius Black escapes Azkaban and Professor Black’s students have a lot of questions about it.

“Professor Black?” A Hufflepuff student raised their hand, “Yes, Ms.Abbott?”

The Hufflepuff - Hannah Abbott - swallowed thickly, “Are you worried?”

“Worried about what?” Professor Black queried with her signature sweet smile, “Sirius Black.” Hannah stated.

The Professor chuckled, “No, dear. Nor should any of you be. Sirius Black will not harm any of you.”

Quietness remained through the classroom, “You know what, we have about twenty minutes of class time left. Why don’t you ask me all the questions troubling your minds? No judgment. You ask me questions, and I shall tell you no lies.”

Hermione’s hand shot up, “Yes, Ms.Granger?”

“How do you inherit the Black surname?”

Y/n smiled faintly, “I was married to one of the brothers.”

“Which one?” Ronald Weasley interjected, “Regulus Black.” Y/n answered.

“Pardon me if this sounds rude,” Dean Thomas began, “But wasn’t Regulus a deatheater?”

Tension set throughout the classroom, “Indeed, he was Mr. Thomas. I congratulate you on your research, but Regulus was not an evil man.” Y/n replied reassuringly.

“What was he like?”

“Regulus Black was a kind and ambitious man but pressured by his parents - Walburga and Orion - to accomplish things he never had ambition for.” Y/n twisted the ring on her finger, “Sirius Black and Regulus Black had more in common than they liked to believe. In the end, it seems that they weren’t different at all.”

“What do you mean, Professor?” Hermione queried at the cryptic response.

Y/n stood in front of her desk with her arms and legs crossed, “What I mean is that they both sacrificed themselves for the people they loved.”

“I can’t go into Regulus’ whole background, we just don’t have the time for that, and I can’t speak for Sirius, but I can assure you, Sirius means no harm.”

Glancing at the clock, most students began to pack up and leave. Hermione seemed intrigued and wanted to ask more, but she left despite her craving for knowledge. Ron followed shortly after. Harry seemed to be packing extraordinarily slow. Both his closest friends leaving him behind while the classroom expired itself out. Y/n returned to behind her desk, and Harry stared at her with his bright green eyes.

“Professor.” Harry called, grabbing her attention, “Yes, Harry?”

“Did you know my father?”

“I did.”

Harry stuttered, “Can- Can you tell me about him?”

“Perhaps,” Y/n answered teasingly.

The boy sat back down at his desk, “James Potter.” Y/n spoke with a laugh, “Merlin, he was a joy to be around.”

“I was a close friend of James’, which was fortunate. Most people couldn’t get too close to him aside from the Marauders, but I managed to sneak my way in.” Y/n explained, “James was kind and sweet, but he had his flaws like everyone else. Sometimes he hurt people - not that he noticed; of course, he thought it was all in good fun, but occasionally someone would get really hurt.”

“Most of the time, I was his shoulder to cry on. Your mother - Lily, she was something, let me tell you. Hurt your father in more ways than one. Rejecting him constantly made him question his self-worth. But he covered it up with his famous James Potter smile.”

“Your father wasn’t perfect, Harry.” Y/n stated, “Despite what anyone tells you. James Potter was not perfect, but there is one thing I bet he was fortunate for.”

“What's that?” Harry asked, “He and Lily died together. They never lived without one another.” Y/n answered.

Instantly Harry felt like he crossed a boundary, “I- I’m so sorry, Professor….”

“No need to apologize.”

“Would you talk about him? Regulus, that is?”

“Of course. Um- Regulus was one year younger than the Marauders. He was also a Slytherin favored by his parents over Sirius.” The Professor explained, fidgeting with her necklace, “He drowned. That’s- That's how he died.”

“He was eighteen when he passed in 1979. I can’t express the pain I felt when I received news of his passing.” Y/n chuckled bitterly, “Sirius ached too. Whether he showed it or not, I knew that he was hurting for the loss of his brother.”

Tears began to gloss her eyes, “I was hurting. We had gotten married a month before he died. Looking back on it, I think he did that on purpose because he knew that soon he would do this mission that would result in his death. His biggest concern was always me and my well-being. So for me to inherit his fortunes, he married me.”

“That’s not to say he only married me for that reason, but I think he wanted to die knowing I’d be taken care of.” Y/n added quickly, “Not even two years later, your parents died. Those three years were awful. And I mean absolutely dreadful.”

“Shortly after I realized Remus - Professor Lupin, excuse me, began to distance himself, so I reached out to him before he could hide away. Remus and I moved into a flat together; we still do. I also have my daughter.”

Harry spluttered, “Daughter?”

“Yes, my child with Regulus.”

“What’s her name?”

“Phoenix Regulus Black, a true Hufflepuff.” Y/n announced proudly, “She's a year above you, but I’d recommend you meeting her.”

“I- I know her.” Harry murmured, “You do?”

Harry nodded, “She- She’s been a good friend of mine since first year.”

“Well then.” Y/n chuckled.

Something was amiss in Harry’s attitude. Y/n was not daft. She noticed that at the mention of her daughter's name, his eyes lit up. The way his green eyes sparkled like a freshly mined emerald. The way his usual pale complexion turned to a faint pink hue and his dopey smile. The same smile James had with Lily. The same smile Regulus had with her.

“You like my daughter, don’t you?” Y/n crossed her arms, smiling playfully, “I- I- Pardon me, Professor.” Harry stuttered.

Y/n laughed, “Oh, you so do! You love my daughter!”

“Maybe I do….” Harry confessed, “Well, Harry Potter, I have no problem with you having a crush on my daughter. Just don’t make her a fling.” Y/n replied, narrowing her eyes teasingly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, run along. You have to catch lunch before it’s up.”

Harry rushed out of his seat after realizing the time. His bag placed on his shoulder as he left the classroom in haste. Y/n smiled and sat at the chair behind her desk. When moving a piece of parchment, there was a distinct rose petal. It was odd, she didn’t have roses anywhere nearby, and no one had been near her desk all day aside from her. The rose petal was a beautiful shade of lavender.

Lavender roses were the only color of roses Regulus would give her. It made Y/n smile, “Thank you, Reggie.”

In the afterlife, Regulus would’ve been sitting watching her entire conversation with Harry. He was smiling at his beautiful wife doing what she always aspired to do - teaching kids. Regulus could only hope that when Sirius was to find her that he’d take care of her. Perhaps Sirius could become Phoenix’s father - the parent Regulus never got a chance to be. Regulus could only hope that Phoenix knew that he did everything to keep her safe. His beautiful baby girl.

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djarinsbeskar · 3 years

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Counterstrike - Boxer!Din AU

Definition - a strike that retaliates against an earlier strike.

A/N: Finally back with a long awaited instalment for Boxer!Din. I’m floored by the response he has received since I posted him first and I just wanted to thank you all so much for showing him (and me) so much love (and lust). In particular, I’d like to dedicate this instalment to @bestinbeskar @honestly-shite @3frontier and @pedro4ever for the gorgeous art of Boxer!Din they each made! Links can be found on the Boxer!Din masterlist below.

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I write), semi-public sex, rough dom!Din, dirty talking, no beta.

Main Masterlist | Boxer Materlist

Ever since he first fucked you in the middle of his boxing ring, Din had developed a bit of a bad habit. A habit that involved finding some way to bury his cock inside you ever time he saw you; an inconvenience since you mostly came across each other in less than private settings. His gym, the sports clinic, or the massage studio you worked at.

It was sweltering, the city falling under the hold of a heatwave that no number of cold showers would help cool. Din ran hot by nature, and the heat only served to make him two things: irritable and horny.

That might explain the near instant reaction he had to the tempting little sundress you wore to combat the suffocating heat when you popped your head around the main doors of the gym. Your day off if the lack of uniform was anything to go by. A vision in coral pink and flushed skin, you beamed against the metal and muted, dark tones of the boxing area.

Sweat dropped down his temple from where he lay on the bench press, bare chest glistening and muscles taut as he lowered the barbell down slowly to his chest. Trained, expert eyes – honed instinct to notice every miniscule move of an opponent – picked up the flash of color and immediately flickered over to where you were approaching him.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

His jaw clenched as he turned his attention resolutely back up to stare at the ceiling, focus Djarin. With a measured exhale, his muscles bunched to press the heavy weight back up away from his body, held it for a beat, and let it lower once more on a slow inhale.

Three more.

His head turned towards you to admire your form as you traced your hand over the dumbbell stand, skilled fingers walking along the progressively heavier weights while your eyes met his in the wall of mirrors behind the stand. You smiled. And it lit your face up.

Jesus fucking Christ.

His eyes dropped from yours down your body indulgently, content to hold the weight of the barbell a beat longer. The way that dress clung to every damned curve he wanted to sink his fingers and teeth into, the swish of the skirt barely reaching the middle of supple thighs that looked better thrown over his shoulders. The fucking nerve you had to not bother concealing the faded mark on the top of your breast where it peeked out from over your neckline where he left it several days ago.

His mouth twisted into a snarl, his mark. Damn fucking right.

You were teasing him, crossing one ankle over the other to turn towards him with a dainty twirl of your skirt. Don’t get distracted on the bench, he growled to himself internally, and with a grunt, he pushed the barbell back up, the lines of muscles that cut across his triceps flexing taut and his pectorals pulsed from the strain of exercising them.

The pulse of his cock in his gym shorts on the other hand, that wasn’t a muscle that was supposed to be engaged for this particular exercise.

Two more.

“Miss me already, sweetheart?”

He ground out, voice rough and strained—keenly aware of the sway of your hips as you walked back towards the bench, his eyes at perfect eye level to thighs he wanted to wrap around his waist. You passed his head – fuck, he could smell you from here – to stand by his hips. He brought the barbell back down slowly towards his chest, breathing more labored than it should be and his jaw clenched in frustration. You were getting to him.

His grip on the metal bar almost slipped entirely when you hiked up the skirt of your dress to kick one leg over the bench and straddle his hips, the sudden weight and heat making him grunt in surprise.

You were soaked—he realized at the same time it dawned on him that you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“Does this answer your question?”

Voice as light and airy as the lavender scent that suffused the room you gave massages in—making his teeth grind and his hips struggle to remain still when memories of that same voice breathless and gasping with moans he elicited rose in his memory.

You rubbed yourself over the thick outline of him through his gym shorts – you little fucking tease – and sweat wasn’t the only thing dampening them anymore.

“Finish your workout, Din,” you sighed breathily, hooded eyes scanning the empty gym floor appreciatively—basking in the ability to rock so openly and languidly over his throbbing cock. It was a sunny day. It was the end of the week. No one was in the gym—and that was precisely why Din chose to work out now.

His eyes never left yours, molten pools filling with dark promise clashed with yours as your small hands found the planes of his tight abdomen, the muscles clenching sensitively under your touch,

“Keep your back straight… don’t want to injure yourself again—” you purred and received a warning growl in response when he pushed the weight back up, a ripple of heated arousal gathering low at his spine and tightening to a coil beneath your hands that indulgently ran over toned muscles and tawny, inked skin.

One more.

Fuck… but you felt so good. Grinding on him like that.

Din’s hips rocked up against you despite himself, his heels pressing into the grate metal flooring to push his clothed cock against your dripping cunt, your soft gasp when he caught your clit music to his ears and the last bit of motivation he needed to drop the barbell back to his chest. You focused your ruts on the tip of his bulge, the fucking audacity you had to use him to get yourself off—grinding your clit over his soaked shorts and digging short nails into his stomach while soft, gentle eyes darkened with lust bore into his.

He lowered his hips again, smirking at the soft whine of annoyance you couldn’t mask in order to adjust his posture correctly. With one last exhale, a panted curse as corded muscles tensed and released with a final burst of energy, his arms straightened once more above him.

Finally.

He had a hand tangled in the length of your hair before the clatter of the metal barbell hitting the hooks of the stand above him died out, yanking you down until your breasts were flush with his heaving chest. His other hand – calloused and rough – grabbed a fistful of your ass, the soft material of your dress bunching effortlessly in his hand,

“Didn’t get enough last week, baby?” he growled against your mouth, guiding your hips over his cock harder now that he could thrust shallowly against you, grinning darkly at your keen of frustration when his mouth glanced yours, avoiding kissing you, “fuck, you’re soaked for me already—”

Teeth grazing your jaw, you arched your neck back in blind submission, the hand caught against his stomach shifting down to tug at his shorts, succeeding in getting them only halfway down. You both groaned at the contact when wet, slick heat burned around the leaking head of his cock, making the heatwave outside feel like nothing more than a warm breeze.

“Din…” you moaned when a perfectly timed grind of his hips knocked the blunt tip against your hooded bundle of nerves, “a week is too long…” you admitted to the boxer’s delight. Finally. He wasn’t the only one going stir crazy only seeing you sporadically.

“Yeah?” he rasped, tightening his hold in your hair so he could keep your head pulled back while he licked a small trickle of sweat that was slowly making its way down to the hollow of your throat, “thinking about my cock all this time?”

Feral pride filled him at your immediate nod, his chest swelling with a primal snarl – why the fuck did you have to agree so easily, he’d never stop thinking about it now – and captured your lips heatedly with his own. Growling your name, he plundered your mouth—lapping along your tongue and groaning at your taste, swallowing your soft sighs and mewls of satisfaction at finally having his lips on yours again.

His hand dropped from your hair to drag down your spine, down the thin fabric that clung to your heated skin until he was dipping two thick digits between exposed cheeks to swipe through your drenched folds. Circling, spreading, coaxing whines and groans of his name with every press of his fingers. Music more beautiful than even the most skilled pianist could create, and all from the fingers of a fighter.

Conversation from elsewhere in the vicinity carried through empty corridors and with a dip of his fingers into your quivering entrance – chestnut eyes sharpened to dark amber watching doe eyes flutter shut in pleasure – his words breathed into your mouth when your lips parted against his,

“Locker room. Now.”

What followed was a heated scramble, a need to be close—to remain in this transcendent bubble of scorching touches and burning attraction. He practically dragged you with him across the gym floor, weaving between machines with his hand wrapped firmly around your wrist. You already looked wrecked, thoroughly corrupted with mused hair, and crooked clothing. Your legs wobbled as you followed his menacing frame, eyes glued to the shifting muscles in his back, an apex predator dragging his prey back to devour in rapture. You went willingly.

The tiles of the shower cubicle were cold when he shoved you against them – the only place remotely private in the locker room when he tugged the thin curtain closed behind you – his hands flexing around your jaw when he turned your face up for him to kiss. Free hand pressing into the small of your back, he made you arch against him, and you mewled at the solid length of him throbbing against your stomach.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he rumbled, hand snaking around to disappear beneath the skirt of your dress again as he rocked his hips against you slowly—cupping your cunt and his teeth leaving a trail of bites down your throat as his words whispered across the tiles.

You blushed.

He saw it—even above the flush of arousal, he saw your cheeks darken and your eyes flicker to the side at his words. Avoiding his gaze, expecting a hunter’s response of claws and teeth to your doe-like display of weakness—and his eyes softened minutely. Some of the aggressive tightness bled from his gaze which he hid in a nip to your jaw, the heel of his hand rubbing in tempting circles over your swollen clit while his fingers split along your entrance, smearing your slick over puffy lips.

You rocked your hips over his hand needily, fingers scratching down the sides of his neck, scoring passion into the tanned skin and whispers against his lips – please Din, please – along with the pleasurable pain rippling from your nails compelled him to shove two fingers knuckle deep into your tight cunt.

He covered your mouth quickly with his palm when an unadulterated moan ricocheted off the tiles, echoing louder – “fuck baby, quiet” – was hissed against your cheek even as his fingers picked up a merciless pace of pump pump pump, his thumb swiping across your clit, his speed building—making it harder for you to stay quiet as you whimpered against his hand.

Nails digging into his shoulders, you buried your face into his sweat slick neck when he dropped his hand from your mouth to hike your leg up over his arm, spread you wider for him to thrust soaked fingers into your sopping core.

When you came the first time, you bit his neck—his teeth baring from the sting while his fingers scissored against your convulsing walls, dragging you through contractions of pleasure that sent spikes of electricity to cloud your brain in a muffled babble of yes yes yes sobbed into his neck.

Condensation misted the tiles by your head as heat lifted from sweltering bodies. Din growled praise, rough rasps of “good girl, that’s it…” into your ear as you relaxed around fingers that were lazily curling up inside you, your mouth working lazily over the sensitive point where his jaw met his neck, nipping—licking, begging him to fuck you.

His brain short circuited.

His large body caging you against the wall, you preened and arched and tempted him into you with soft sighs of his name and your hands tracing down to the hem of his shorts. Heavy, lust-pooled eyed followed your hands, watching you pull him from his shorts and stroke him with expert fingers that never failed to make him fall apart—on your table, in your bed… you bewitched him with touch since first he met you. He was a slave to it.

“Fuck, baby—” he groaned, his head falling back before he swiped your hands away from his swollen length, giving it a few hard strokes as he ran the head between your exposed folds. He filled you with on thrust, a filthy squelch as your pussy accepted him – unable to be gentle, unable to take his time when all he could think of was claiming you over and again, of meeting your counterstrike with a knockout and hearing your surrender in cries of his name.

He was big—so big that every time he filled you, it felt like he was splitting you apart. The smallest hint of pain, the breach of his cock melting into a delicious fire that licked and coated your nerves as the fat head knocked against soft tissue inside you. He found his pace with a slow rut that dragged his cock along tight walls where you could feel every single vein throb enticingly against you.

His facial hair sanded across your cheek as he panted how good you felt, how tight—how addicted he was to the feel of you, how he wanted to fuck you for hours. Your nails curved down over the muscles of his shoulder blades, along his waist—basking in his size, his strength—his head lowering to scrape his teeth over the swell of your breast, sucking over the ghost of his previous mark and drawing blood back to the surface as he snapped his hips back into you.

And then the door to the locker room opened, and conversation filled it.

Din didn’t even think before slamming his fist onto the water pressure, drenching the two of you in seconds with cool water and drowning the sounds of his cock slamming into you with the hiss of water falling in rivulets down your bodies.

You moaned, too far gone to know – or care – that you weren’t alone, and his hand came back up to cover your mouth with a warning growl into your ear, “Shut up, unless you want to give them a show.”

Even as he said it, his pace grew harder—punching gasps and sounds of surprised pleasure from parted lips that were only mitigated by the calloused palm he folded over them. Your nipples pebbled through soaked fabric, drawing his eager mouth down to suck it raw through the dress, whimpers for more echoed in the tight clench of your cunt around his glistening length.

Steam filled the shower, bleeding out into the locker room where laughter and conversation blended to mask the wet slaps of his skin against yours, the sodden movement of clothes and his guttural groans around your nipple as you clawed at his undulating back.

“Din—” you whispered, panting as strands of your hair fell into your face—fucked out and divine when his mouth slanted over yours again, your chest heaving while one hand lifted to cup his jaw, keeping his mouth on yours. He snapped into the dripping grasp of your pussy hard, shoving you up the wall onto your toes, the graze of the short coarse hairs at the base of his cock tickling over your sensitive clit.

“So fucking loud…” he growled on a whip of anger, the sound cracking down the feral possessiveness of his tone and making you moan. He would spank that pretty ass red, your pussy pink if there wasn’t the risk of the sound carrying to the other athletes getting changed for their workout.

Oh well.

That just meant he would have to take you again later.

His balls tightened and his stomach clenched at the thought, fuck. He wanted you again and he hadn’t even cum yet—your tight little cunt already quivering and tightening around him with your oncoming orgasm as he lost himself in eyes flooded with open desire— disarming him with the candor he saw reflected in them. He swallowed thickly.

“Gonna ruin you, sweetheart,” was his immediate reaction, the only way he could think to reciprocate. A gush of wetness pushed around his cock drilling into you, your walls getting impossibly tighter, and he smirked darkly—his nose pressing into your cheek, teeth bared and feral, “you’d like that, huh?”

Delirious nods were all you were capable of as silent gasps kept your lips parted, eyes rolling back when his thumb dropped to draw tight, fixated little circles on your clit—forcing you over the edge with a final blow that sucked the breath right out of you, the boxer taking and taking and taking everything he wanted from you with wet thrusts and brutal bites to your already marked neck.

He swallowed your orgasm with his mouth, the wet strands of his hair dripping water onto your pretty face as he sucked your tongue into his mouth, dropping his free hand to slide down the length of your side as his thrust turned erratic, chasing his high—chasing that bliss he could only find buried deep inside you.

“Cum, Din—cum,” you breathed, cupping his face as you smiled—exhaustion written plain on your face and his brows pinched in concentration, dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a gasp of your name, breathless as he pulled out—his hand moving frantically over the swollen length of him until he coated your mound and dress with his release. It washed away in streaks of milky white down your body, a subtle pang of fatigued frustration to see it disappear so quickly flashing though him.

The locker room was silent when he turned the water pressure off.

Apart from your labored breathing, the locker room was silent—the prior occupants leaving none the wiser or – if they had heard anything – wisely leaving.

Din dropped your leg from where it remained hooked over his arm, his hands fisting in the skirt of your dress to drag the sodden material up and over your head with a shiver at the uncomfortable feeling of wet clothes.

The sight of your naked body made his softening cock twitch, dammit. You were all gentle curves and soft skin, clothed in the marks of his mouth and bruises of his grip.

He wanted you again.

And caged within his arms, trapped with his hands pressed either side of your head, his shaggy head of soaked waves falling into dark, guarded eyes—you could admit you wanted him again too.

“I’ll wash your dress,” he rasped gruffly, taking a step back from you and kicking off his shorts to wring out and toss into his gym bag. He left the shower with effortless calm, as if he wasn’t stark naked but returned with a towel for you to wrap yourself in.

You flashed him a grateful smile that stuttered when he tossed another – smaller – towel on your head, rubbing it quickly over your soaked locks despite your complaints, a crooked smirk your only indication that he was playing.

“You don’t have t—”

“You can wait for it to dry at my place.”

His words brokered no argument as you padded after him into the empty locker room, the boxer rummaging through his own locker to pull out a simple white t-shirt—long enough to cover you… just about. The hem fell shorter than your dress and you were distinctly aware of your lack of underwear when you pulled it on.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he rumbled as he tugged a tight black muscle shirt over his head, looking down at you with a devastating smirk and sinfully half-lidded eyes, “I don’t share. No one will see you.”

Taglist:

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macnevercries · 3 years

Text

Goodnight (Shinsou x F!reader)

Warnings- somnophilia, non-con, penetration, loss of virginity, yandere tendencies, praise, creampie

Word count- 2360

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You were so nice to him. You smelled so good. You smiled so brightly, looked so pretty, so genuine. These things about you were what started his obsession. Watching you and keeping tabs on you became a hobby, then a need.

He found his brain constantly occupied with thoughts of you, your small habits, things you said to him, things he wished you said to him. Everything about you was perfect. You were the object of his affection, his darling.

But you didn’t know any of this, you were clueless to Shinsou’s infatuation with you. To you he was just a friend, an awfully clingy friend but in an endearing way. He had been this way since year one and you two were now close to the end of year three. You two weren’t in the same class like last year, but Shinsou made every effort to see you whenever he was free. Walking you to class, sitting next to you during lunch, walking you to the dorms and asking to hang out on the weekend.

You kind of guessed that he liked you, you had thought so for years but you didn’t say anything in case you were wrong. You weren’t against the thought of dating him, he was insanely handsome, his lavender fluffy hair framing his sharp jaw perfectly. His dark circles perfectly balanced his lazy smirk. To top that off he was kind and he always treated you with respect even if he got in your space a lot. You just assumed he was touchy, thought nothing of it.

One day when he was walking you to the dorms he kept brushing his hand against yours. You didn’t bother moving, you were tired and his presence was comforting.

“You need help studying right?” He asks, looking deep into your eyes as if it was the last time. This was an interesting thing about Shinsou. He always lingered, even when he wasn’t with you, you never felt like he left.

“Yeah I do, I’m struggling a little bit in English and History. Do you wanna study with me?” His face lit up at your offer, nodding eagerly. He started in the direction of the 3C building, excited to have you in his room. How would you act around him in private? Would you like his room? He needed to record your every action and memorize it. You stopped walking and Shinsou turned around, tiring his head to the side to convey his confusion. He wanted you in his room already, why were you slowing him down?

“Hold on, I’m sorry” you mumbled. You shuffled through your school bag looking for something. Shinsou couldn’t help but peek over your shoulder, he had never seen the inside of your bag before. His eyes darted between the contents of your bag and your newly exposed skin, your skirt drifted up your leg where you knelt on the sidewalk. You looked back up at him, an embarrassed smile gracing your face.

“I left my books at the dorms, can we study in my room instead?” You asked meekly. Shinsou’s face flushed all shades of red. He had already been in love with the thought you in his room, but him in yours? Enchanting. He smiled and nodded.

With his approval the two of you headed towards your dorm. You walked through the common room, nodding at your classmates and getting in the elevator. Your room was on the third floor, twelve meters down the hallway on the right. Shinsou engraved this path into his brain, he would have to come back. You unlocked your door, walking in and closing in behind the purple-haired boy.

He glanced around the room, taking in as much as he could before his gaze was drawn back to you, opening the balcony doors to let in the soft spring breeze. The wind fluttered your skirt and blew your hair. You looked like a goddess. Shinsou wished he could take a picture of you, he wanted to remember this moment forever.

You sat down at your desk, pulling a chair up for Shinsou to sit in. You got out your books, flipping it open and getting to work. After a few minutes you laughed and looked over to Shinsou,

“Are you ever going to come sit?” You giggled. Shinsou smiled apologetically, pulling his chair out and making sure to scoot close to you. The hours flew by, you studying and Shinsou watching.

He had his book open and he answered all of your questions, teaching you what you didn’t understand. He just couldn’t focus on his own studies, not like this. Not when you were sitting next to him, looking like that.

The clock hit 6:30 and the dinner bell rang. You closed your books, thanking Shinsou for his help. You walked him out of the building before heading back in for dinner. Thoughts of you ran through his head as he walked back to his own room, he would definitely be returning to your room later. Now that he had a taste, he wouldn’t let it go.

He had been watching the clock for hours. He ate dinner in his room and barely did any of his homework. Thoughts of you flooded his consciousness and it took everything he had not to go right back to your dorm. No he had to wait until everyone was asleep.

When the clock struck 2am he silently slipped out of his room. He wasn’t careful walking down the hall, his foot steps were never heard. He took the stairs instead of the elevator, heading down swiftly. When he got outside it was pitch black. There were no street lamps on at Heights Alliance at three in the morning. It didn’t matter to him though. Shinsou had memorized the path from his room to yours the moment you took his hand and dragged him there.

Despite how flustered he seemed at the moment he was taking everything in. The cracks in the concrete, how certain movements squeaked the door, where your room was in relativness to your classmates and of course, the feeling of your soft hand against his.

He slides the dorm door open noiselessly. Rapidly, he walks to the stairway, taking two at a time. The slow climb to the third floor went by in seconds. He had been waiting years for this moment.

He glides down the hall, eager and giddy. Stopping at your down he gets down on his knees and starts to work on the lock.

Two minutes later and he has it pop open. Slinking inside and closing the door softly behind him, he walks over to your bed. He takes a moment to look around the room again and breath in your scent. You’re his safe haven and he can’t imagine being happier than he is now.

He puts his large hands on your shoulders, lightly shaking you awake.

“Hey kitten, can you hear me?”

“Hmm? Shinsou?” you mumble, still half asleep.

Your response was enough to for him to get ahold of you. Now that you were under the power of his quirk there was no way he would let you go. At least not anytime soon.

“I want you to stay still for me okay? I’ll do everything, I’ll make you feel so good baby I promise” His words are sincere but they make you shiver with fear. This wasn’t this Shinsou you knew.

With you frozen in place for him, he turns you over so you’re facing up and pulls down the covers. He flicks on the lamp on your bedside table, taking a moment to appreciate the way you look in the soft light.

You can’t move and you’re stuck in a post-sleep daze, barely aware of what’s going on. Your soft lips are slightly parted and cheeks pink from the warmth of your bed. You look so inviting.

Shinsou leans down and places a gentle kiss on your lips, savoring the sweet taste. It was everything he imagined and more.

“My god you taste amazing, mind if I taste something else?”

He snickers at the panic in your eyes. You try to scream ‘no this isn’t how I want this to happen’ but no words leave your mouth. It doesn’t even open at your will.

He plays with the straps of your tank top, tugging and pulling them. He glides them down your arms, bring the whole shirt with it. He tosses the shirt to the side, out of view. His hands run over your chest, worshipping the skin you live in.

“You’re so gorgeous you know that? Such a pretty girl.” He breathes the words onto your skin.

His calloused fingers trace your breasts, thumbing your sensitive buds. The way they perk and pebble at his touch gets him going.

“You like that? I can do more of that” He latches his mouth onto your nipple, pinching and pulling the other one. His tongue glides across the delicate skin beneath him.

His mouth detaches with a lewd pop, switching to the other side to give you a matching mark. As he removes his face from your chest, he plants kisses across your collarbone and travels down your stomach. When his tender touches reach your lower stomach, your hips thrust forward against your will.

He chuckles darkly at your reaction.

“Patience kitten, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this. Let’s take our time, yeah?” he soothes his words into your skin. Despite his actions they calm you.

He pulls your loose shorts below your hips and down your thighs, taking a moment to trace the soft skin. He settles himself between your plush legs, facing your core.

Tracing the elastic of your panties, he licks a large stripe up your clothed cunt. A shiver runs through your entire body, hips jumping towards his face when he pulls away to watch your face.

He grins wildly “I knew you wanted me too, I knew it.”

He takes your panties off before you realize what he’s doing, burying his head in your sex. He inhaled deeply, somehow managing to creep you out more than you already are.

He eats you out like a starved man, his previously gentle touches greedy and hungry. Slurping you up, swallowing you. He latches his mouth out your clit, giving kitten licks where your body wants him most.

He slips in two slender fingers with ease. Scissoring and twisting them to open you wider. He rotates his digits, pumping them in and out, looking for your special spot. One move he makes has you clamping around him, body jolting.

A sinister smile covers his face. “Here? I can do it here” He curls them deeply into you, continuing his attack. You thrash around, your stomach tightly wound with pleasure. He sucks a little harder on your clit and that’s all it takes for you to unravel beneath him. He guides you through it, letting you down gently.

He retracts his fingers and face from your glistening cunt. He slides his fingers into your open lips, forcing them down your throat. You choke on his digits, tasting your slick on his skin.

“Yeah, you sound so pretty. I wish you could moan but if I let you go even a little bit you might manage to get out of my hold. You have always been a strong woman, it’s why I love you. But alas we can’t have you escaping from me now, we’re having so much fun and I haven’t gotten my turn yet.”

He slides his swears and boxers down his legs in one swift motion, causing his heavy cock to slap against his stomach. The tip was a deep reddish purple from waiting, pre-cum dripping from the it. It was pretty, a few prominent veins running across the bottom, average girth and impressive length.

Looking at it made your mouth water. It also made you wish you had time to develop a relationship with him on your own, made you wish it didn’t have to happen this way.

He doesn’t hesitate to run it through your folds, mixing your excitement with his. He pushes into your tight hole slowly, cherishing the way that you grip him tightly, sucking him into you.

“Oh god is this your first time? You’re so tight for me, just for me” He groans. You would nod if possible. It was your first time. The stretch was painful.

Shinsou didn’t wait long for you to adjust, after a few seconds he couldn’t take it. He wrapped your thighs around his waist and started pounding into you. The way his head kissed your cervix, the bumps and ridges hitting all the right places.

He just started and you could already feel yourself close to your second orgasm. Thankfully he was too. Going quicker, he rammed you into the mattress, moving his thumb to your clit. He rubs hard, almost too hard. You clench around him tightly, releasing with him.

He spills into you, painting your walls and fucking you through it. He groans and his voice cracks.

“Oh fuck, good girl good girl good girl good girl. Yeah you’re so fucking good for me” he rambles his words into your ear, sucking on your jaw as he slows down and pulls out. He grabs his phone and starts snapping photos, your fucked out face, his hands on your breast, the hickeys and marks trailing your body, and last but not least, his pale fingers pushing his cum back inside of you as it threatens to spill out.

Content with his job, he pulls his pants back up, and tucks you back into bed. He switches off the lamp, kissing your forehead.

“Let’s keep this a secret yeah? At least until you’re ready to accept my feelings.”

Picking your panties off of the floor and sliding them into his pocket he exits the room just as quietly as he entered. Even when his quirk deactivates, you lay there silently, the remains of his presence leaking down your thigh again. You feel so used. And yet somehow, so loved.

#shinsou x you #shinsou hitoshi #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha #mha #x reader #shinsō hitoshi #yandere #bnha shinso hitoshi #yandere hitoshi shinso

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dr3amofagame · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Dream is released from prison and one night when Sam's trying to sleep the full scope of what he did hits him.

oh this one was heartwrenching anon im in love

the idea that sam and dream were FRIENDS before pandora haunts me so much ,, dream TRUSTED him, at one point, and sam trusted him back ,, it’s really the cherry on top of the whole dang screwed up cake that is the prison :’)

anyway, as is becoming the norm on this blog, please note the warnings bc this gets heavy!

tw: abuse (physical/emotional), toxic relationships, effects of starvation (it’s brief but it’s there), violence, panic attacks, illness, blood, gore (?)

There is blood on the pickaxe.

Sam's hand brushes over the netherite; even in the dark room, the metal, lit by the soft lavender light of enchantments, is clearly stained reddish-brown, some flecks reaching the polished wooden handle. He must've forgotten to clean it after the last session with the prisoner- Dream, throwing it and the rest of his Warden set in a chest haphazardly before going to sleep.

His fingers brush against it; the edge is ragged from a lack of maintenance, the dried blood leaving the entire surface patchy and irregular. The bottom of the handle is well-worn, the wood easily molding to the palm of his hand, the weight familiar. He watches himself move it with a strange sort of disconnect, maneuvering the tool - weapon around with almost more ease than his own sword. He flips it around, fingers easily finding the nick in the top third of the handle, the groove where metal meets wood, eyes tracing his own handwriting, words written in neat, blocky script along the bottom edge of the netherite.

Warden's Will Breaker

The Warden. It's hard to remember that that person was even him, wearing netherite like a second skin, sword perpetually within reach, a monotone voice and metal mask to hide everything soft away; completely emotionless, until the pickaxe was in his hand and every feeling he'd kept bottled deep beneath came up, furious, suffocating, leaving nothing behind but a simmering rage that demanded release-

(Blood on his hands the sound of cracking bones tugging on the handle and meeting resistance screams echoing on obsidian please please Sam stop please stop please-)

He breathes in, out, the pickaxe (Will Breaker) still lying in his hands, still stained with blood. He blinks down at it; it feels wrong to hold it without the rest of the Warden's gear on his body, to carry this thing still saturated with memories of dark shadows and stifling heat and so much pain, to be staring at it without the weight of a mask on his face, of armor sitting against his shoulders, of a sword on his hip. It feels like it belongs to someone else entirely, completely out of place against his creeper print pajama pants (courtesy of Ponk) and knit slippers; it feels foreign, even with memories of it held in his hands flash through his head.

(you deserve this you are a monster you didn't stop when he asked you to I'll stop when you're sorry I'll stop when you're broken behave behave behave)

The prison was all boxes, hard edges; there was no room for kindness, no room for mercy. The prison meant that he was the Warden, that Dream was the Prisoner, that they would not, could not step out of the roles carved for them in the unforgiving obsidian. The walls were stark; every inch deliberate, methodical, necessary. The Warden held the monster and the Prisoner sought to escape his Labyrinth and thus went the game, everlasting, until one of them broke, until one of them failed, Will Breaker, really, only meant to speed up the process-

Only that didn't quite happen.

The Prisoner left, but didn't escape; the Warden was no longer needed, but did not fail. In the end, it was Sam that found Dream wheezing, feverish, in the back of his cell, Sam who carried the man across the bridge, feeling him lie limply in his arms, all skin and bones, Sam who brought him into the Community House as everyone clamored over his weak and dying body.

He'd been released from Pandora (for the foreseeable future, Puffy had said, voice trembling, until he's well enough to stand trial) and Sam, unable to stare at the still-unconscious man and remember his own hands covered in blood and bits of shattered bone, had left to hide away in his base. Until he's needed to be the Warden, again, he'd muttered to himself on the boat ride over, until that responsibility is once again his to bear.

It's harder to justify it all, here, where his floor is covered in carpet and dog hair, where there's a soft light behind him from the redstone lamp hooked up next to his bed, where everything from the Warden has been scrubbed away and left just Sam, limbs a bit gangly, hunched down over a chest that's just a bit too short for him to reach comfortably, feelings raw and painful like an exposed nerve. It's hard to say that the violence and cruelty were necessary, looking at the walls laid down by hands kinder than his own, the remnants of pie still stuck in his chests and blocks of bright pink wool (You Matter <3) decorating the few that he hasn't opened in a while, staring at the soft-edged memories of someone that had yet to know that pickaxes could be stained red by something other than redstone.

("You're leaving?" Dream, younger, hands knotting in the bottom hem of his hoodie.

"Just for a bit," readjusting his crown from where it stands, off-center, on his head; Dream laughing and reaching up to straighten it for him. "I just want to explore a little. Find somewhere open where I can really rig some stuff up, you know?"

"I can't believe the things you do with that crap, man," freckled cheeks rising in a brilliant smile. "It's insane."

"You're pretty insane yourself, Mr. Manhunt," Dream tosses his head back, wheezing, and Sam laughs with him. The sun rises over them, sky pale and pink and beautiful.

"Well, this is the Community House, Awesam," Dream pulls him in, arms wrapping around his neck, head bumping against his chin. "You're always welcome here."

He smiles, soft, murmuring an agreement that rumbles deep and low in his chest. "I know. Y'all take care of yourselves, ok?"

"Of course," Dream punches him, lightly, in the shoulder, trying and failing to hide the way his eyes shine. "We always do.")

The pickaxe falls from his hand, clattering to the ground. Distantly, Sam realizes he's crying.

Prime, what had he done?

#the queue <3 #tw abuse #tw toxic relationship #tw starvation #tw violence #tw panic attack #tw illness #tw blood #tw gore #all of these have been so angsty lmao #im loving it tho #warden!sam critical #again idk if this counts lmao #like he's not Just Evil but he's done some pretty screwed up crap #my writing :D #my asks !!

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cherrysung · 4 years

Text

walks & paws

pairing: jeno x reader

genre: strangers to lovers au / fluff

warnings: none

prompts: none

summary: walks were never your favorite; but maybe after an encounter that changed your life, you can manage to appreciate them a little bit more.

requested by anon.

word count: 1.5k

note: *smashes hands down on table* this is so adorable! thank you anonnie for requesting such a lovely scenario!

cherrysung’s navigation

Destiny was something you strongly believed in. A phenomenon that had no logical explanation, but somehow worked according to one’s actions and decisions. Everyday, you hoped faith had something awesome in store for you, and often wondered what your future would be about in years to come.

On a Friday afternoon; when the shining sun wasn’t as burning hot as it usually was during the peak of daytime, and the never ending skies were covered beautifully in warmer tones—you decided a walk through the park near your small apartment would do you good to start off a fresh weekend. Although you absolutely detested walks, one every two months felt fine.

And to top it off, you brought your lazy cat along.

Birds were chirping loudly in perfect melodies, and the breeze was blowing nicely against your face. Your cat’s fur flowed comically with the wind, it’s tiny legs struggling to keep up with your much bigger steps as the two of you walked through the sidewalks, the familiar sound of an electric fountain and children’s laugh pleasantly invading your ears the closer you got.

Upon arriving at the small park, you realized it was not as crowded as it had appeared to be. A few families were having picnics, sitting on red and grid blankets with a couple of bamboo baskets storing food, snacks and drinks for a decent variation. Kids were running around the green grasses, occasionally playing around with the water that splashed out of the huge fountain located at the center; or watching the colorful Japanese koi fish that swam happily in the beautiful pond not far away, with their parents worriedly holding onto them in fear they’d fall into the waters.

A smile etched its way onto your face, your unbothered furry friend had chosen to take a much needed seat on the grass, realizing you had yet again stumbled into nostalgia. With a slight pull on the leash hooked around its collar, the two of you continued an improvised path around the park. The smile never left your face, admiring the emerald green oak trees as their leaves seemed to dance along with the winds, or the countless sunflowers that stood with exuberance pridefully in an extensive sea of daisies and gardenias.

Your eyes were everywhere but the path in front of you, and due to your already clumsy nature, you failed to catch sight of the boy that walked the same cute, dirt trail. The opposite way.

“I’m so sorry!” He apologized profusely when your head hit his hard chest and you went flying backwards, landing with a light thump on the ground.

In a failed attempt to remain aware of your surroundings, you clashed against him with an embarrassing amount of lack of elegance, your cat scurrying quickly to the side in fright as your bottom slightly cushioned your landing. Your cheeks were burning red, and your pet could only lovingly lick your wrist with its rough, pink tongue. Maybe if you looked anywhere but him, he would leave.

“Are you alright? I’m really so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” He continued to endlessly apologize, offering you his hand to help you up to your feet. “Are you okay? Is your cat okay?”

“I’m fine, you don’t have to worry—”

“You got a scratch on your elbow!”

You turned your arm to confirm for yourself before he became even guiltier; indeed, there was a tiny scratch. Tiny.

Letting out a laugh of disbelief, but thankfulness nonetheless, you waved your free hand around dismissively with a sweet smile on your face. “That’s the smallest scrape I’ve ever seen! Don’t worry about it! You did nothing wrong, I was the one who wasn’t looking, I should’ve been more careful of my steps.”

He sighed in relief, and only now had you noticed he was walking two cats. “My name is Jeno,” you shook his hand, “I noticed you have a cat too!”

“(Name), and yes, but I’m starting to think yours are way cuter.” You joked with a chuckle. “Mine has been lazy this entire walk.”

Jeno laughed at your confession, eyes creasing adorably into crescents as his grin lit up his features completely. He had a sharp facial structure, and had it not been for his smile, you would’ve never assumed he was capable of pulling off such a sweet expression. Then his eyes beamed so brightly, and you were proved wrong.

“Well, I’m genuinely glad you didn’t hurt yourself. Except for that scratch, though. Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?”

“I’m totally fine,” you soothed his worries with a nod of your head, “I’m more concerned for you. Your chest is hard, Jesus!”

Jeno blushed a deep shade of pink, small eyes widening adorably as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head with a soft smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment. I work out occasionally.”

Neither of you had become aware of how long the time you had been speaking for was, only then noticing the beginnings of a new sunset to come. You’d argue you were in the middle of a recent golden hour, flocks of starlings flying by the gleaming sun. The skies appeared as if they were painted, random shades of faded orange and yellow slowly engulfing it whole as the minutes ticked by and the clock announced the nearing of an early evening.

You turned to face the boy again, eyes widening at how red and itchy his neck was. “Jeno! Are you okay? Your neck is very red.”

He smiled, “I am. I’m allergic to cats, this is normal.”

“You’re allergic to cats but you have two of them?” You laughed, crouching down to pet his companions. One was almost entirely black, and the other was mostly brown with a few black spots located in random places.

“I actually have three, but my mom said I wouldn’t be able to keep up with all of them.”

“That’s cute.” You admitted simply before standing up, prompting yet another wave of rosy red to fill his cheeks, the tip of his ears also burning with embarrassment.

Needless to say, although the darkness of night was getting closer and closer by the moment, Jeno thought staying to watch the sunset would be a great idea. One you did not oppose either. The two of you took a seat on a random wooden bench that was in great needs of some new paint, as its previous one was already scraping off.

He sat next to you, your cat surprisingly happy under his touch as it rested on his lap, hand running over its fluffed up fur due to all the breeze it had endured. One of his cats slept between the two of you, while the other one also laid lazily on your thighs.

The rash on his neck has simmered down a tiny bit; yet, to you, he still looked handsome under a dim lamp post light that shined over the both of you.

Soon enough, the sun had set, the sky now darkened with a few tints of lavender and pink fighting to show up. Most families had left, and only a small amount of people remained besides you two. You turned to face Jeno, finding with shock that his gaze was already on you, eyes scanning your features swiftly before finally locking with yours. He smiled again, and you weren’t sure if the butterflies in your stomach were the ones tickling you, or if it was his cat’s fur that brushed against your legs.

“Would you want to hang out some other time again? Without cats that give me allergies and actually planned beforehand so you don’t end up bumping into hard chests anymore?” He thanked whatever god was above that nighttime had arrived, and that you weren’t able to see how flushed his face was.

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

Stutters stumbled off his lips at your unexpected question, “do you—do you, um, want it to be a date? It doesn’t have to be! But if you want to, it can be—”

“A date sounds fine to me, Jeno,” you smiled sincerely at him, pulling out a notepad from your small crossbody handbag and writing your phone number on it before placing the small paper on his palm. “I would love to. I had a great time with you.”

Jeno gratefully returned your smile, nodding with utter happiness as the both of you got hold of your respective pets, standing up with a sigh and warmth that refused to leave your cheeks. “Want me to walk you home?”

You shook your head, “it’s fine. I live very close, so don’t worry. Just make sure to text me once you get to your own home and you’ve taken some pills for that rash.” He chuckled, nodding at your words as he looked down at you with a loving stare. “Goodnight Jeno, it was nice meeting you and your cats. I’m looking forward to our date.” With a quick peck on his cheek, you turned on your heel and on your way back to your apartment, not needing to look back at his face to know he was unbelievably flustered, red as a tomato.

Destiny surely had something awesome in store for you.

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spiralingsights · 3 years

Note

11 and 28? I would give an f/o but idk who these would fit

[ ohoho fake dating + enemies to lovers i can’t resist ]

[ “Please just pretend to be my date.” (11) and “Please tell me this is a joke.” (28) ]

[ Characters: William Afton, Keegs Arrowood ]

[ warnings: pining and repressed feelings lol ]

“Please just pretend to be my date.”

Keegs stared at his boss, processing what the man just said to him. Did he seriously just ask for Keegs, arguably his worst enemy, to be his date? For a fucking office party that Fazbear Entertainment was holding for restaurant owners? Why couldn’t he just ask Henry???

“Please tell me this is a joke,” the mechanic finally replied, his answer gaining a groan from William. Apparently, it was not.

“We both know I don’t joke with you,” William responded, confirming Keegs’s fears. What kind of stupid, fruity hell had he descended into? What did he do to deserve this? Well, he probably knew.

Keegs let out a long sigh, about to tell him to fuck off before William spoke again. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re my last hope. Henry said no, Scrap would have killed me if I asked, not even your idiot friend Wrath wanted to go.”

Of course he didn’t want to go, Wrath was in love with Splice and would have considered it cheating even if he still hadn’t told the animatronic his feelings.

“I hate you...” Keegs muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why don’t you just go alone? No one will judge you for it, if you even care about that. And the rumour that you’re dating your employee would be worse!”

That seemed to make William think for a moment, opening his mouth for a rebuttal but closing it soon after. His gaze even drifted away- he clearly hadn’t thought about those consequences. After a moment, he shook his head.

“Being alone is more embarrassing.” Keegs let out a loud groan at this, running his hands over his hand and clasping them behind his neck as he turned away from that british fuck.

What made it worse is that he actually kinda wanted to go. Not because he wanted to go with William, but because he hadn’t had an excuse to dress up the entire time he’d been active. A big office party like this? It would be perfect. And it would give him the chance to scope out the other restaurant owners, and test their animatronic knowledge.

He finally turned to face William again, surprised to find the brunette still standing there. He had to admit, it was amusing to see him so desperate. He let out a huff a breath, giving in to the desire to wear a suit.

“Fine,” he said, not missing how his boss immediately lit up (while also somehow seeming disappointed- probably because he officially had to take his most hated employee to a function with him). “One condition.”

Of course he had a fucking condition. William just nodded, not wanting to push his luck. “Do not send anybody my way so they can talk to your “partner”. Tell them I’m socially anxious if you have to, but I will straight up tell them the horrors of this place.”

William’s face scrunched up in discomfort, but relaxed when he realized this was the best he was gonna get. “Deal.”

And so, it was set in stone.

---

Keegs straightened his jacket for what seemed like the hundredth time as he looked in the mirror in his bedroom. He’d have to leave soon; he didn’t want William to know where he lived, so they’d agreed that they’d meet at the Afton house instead.

The suit he wore fit perfectly, and was the same pink shade as his hair. Well, the jacket and slack were. His shoes were black, his shirt a light shade of lavender (to match William’s inevitably purple suit), and the little bowtie he wore was a rainbow eyesore.

With a quick glance at the clock, he ran a hand over his hair, said goodbye to Vanny, and headed out.

William’s house actually wasn’t too far from the apartment Keegs shared with Vanny, but he only came over at midnight and 2am, so it wasn’t like he could be tracked back there, so he never worried. This was the first time he’d ever driven there though, usually just walking.

He paused upon reaching the doorway. Did he really want to do this? And, more importantly, why was he excited to do it? He knew it was more than just a chance to dress up or interrogate some assholes. He didn’t like the metaphorical butterflies in his... well, he doesn’t really have a stomach. His intake?

....

He didn’t like the flutter in his chest when knocked on the door, and heard a familiar voice call out, “coming!” from inside. He especially didn’t like the extra flutter in his chest when the door opened and revealed William, dressed in a purple suit like he thought he’d be, but still surprising him nonetheless.

Apparently, Afton had the same idea Keegs did and was wearing a light pink dress shirt under his dark purple suit jacket, a shade that went perfect with the shade of Keegs’s own jacket.

Neither of them said anything about it, but Keegs couldn’t help but notice the pleased, and surprised, smile on his boss’s face.

“Let’s go,” he quickly said, turning on his heel and heading right back to his car.

---

William looked hilarious with his long limbs folded into Keegs’s volkswagen beetle, the car clearly not built for men as tall as him. It was a sight Keegs would treasure for the rest of his robotic life.

“Comfortable?” Keegs teased, snickering at the glare William shot at him. Thank god they were back to bullying each other, he wasn’t going to acknowledge whatever the fuck happened earlier without dying first.

“Laugh it up Arrowood, I doubt you’ll feel the same way when you’re out of your element,” William replied, narrowing his eyes at Keegs.

Unfortunately, and he’d never admit this, the bastard was right. Social functions weren’t Keegs’s thing. He’d never been good at feigning interest, and that was pretty important at shit like this.

But he just rolled his eyes. At least they’d be out of the car soon.

---

It wasn’t better out of the car.

The building the party was being held in was... crowded. Uncomfortable. Keegs ended up having to stick far closer to William that he’d planned, and whatever fucked up reaction his false human heart was having never let him forget it.

The only up side was that William seemed just as uncomfortable as he was. Not with the people around them, he spoke to them just fine and even seemed to forget about his fake date. That is, until Keegs bumped into him.

Of course he noticed that Afton’s face turned red whenever they touched, but he had no idea why. At first he thought he was angry, but William didn’t look like that when he got angry. Unfortunately, Keegs hadn’t reached the “human bodily reactions” part of his research yet, so it merely served to confuse him.

Finally, after three or four hours, he grabbed William’s arm to get his attention, ignoring the red on the man’s face. “I need a break. I’ll be out back. I probably won’t run.”

There was a short pause, before William took Keegs’s car keys and pocketed them. “You won’t escape me that easily,” the man joked, only because there were people watching. He even threw in a wink for effect.

Keegs just rolled his eyes, and escaped to through the backdoor. He was quick to pull his jacket off, relishing the cool breeze. Once realizing he wouldn’t be going back in for a while, he also untied his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt.

Once satisfied, he sat down on the bottom step of the little stairs, holding his palm against his forehead to cool it down to help with his headache. It wasn’t long before he heard the backdoor open and close.

There was a pause, before the man (undoubtedly William, based on the footsteps) made his way down the stairs and sat down next to Keegs. The android looked over at him, not at all surprised to find he’d also taken off his own jacket, and loosened his tie.

“Getting too much for even you? I’m glad I left when I did,” Keegs said, returning to his goal of soothing his brain. He heard William chuckle. It was a soft sound, clearly from his chest. But it was also... not rude? It was actually kind of sweet.

And then he sighed, and the sound brought that flutter back. “I would seem so, yes. I forgot how draining it is to talk to idiots.” He meant people who weren’t handy with animatronics, something Keegs had learned from observation (eavesdropping).

Keegs just nodded. He understood. Animatronics were his whole life, it was hard to talk about anything but them.

“Thank you for coming with me,” William spoke up after a while, making Keegs look up at him again. “I know we don’t always get along, but I’ve... enjoyed it. Getting along, I mean.”

The mechanic just stared at him, surprised. He opened his mouth to presumably reply, but William leaned forward quickly and caught him in a gentle, cautious kiss.

Keegs shocked himself by returning it.

William’s lips were soft, and easy to lean into. Keegs suddenly understood how this man had ended up with a wife. He felt a hand in his hair, and leaned into it without breaking the kiss, unwilling to break the moment.

He’d noticed the tinge of alcohol on Afton’s lips the second they’d connected with his own, but he didn’t care all that much.

Finally, William broke it by leaning back, looking down at Keegs with slightly pink lips. “Between us?” he asked, his voice low and quiet, a small smile on his face. ‘Between us’ was a fun little thing they’d started the first time Keegs found the man covered in blood.

But this one was different. This one meant a lot more, and couldn’t be used at evidence against the man Keegs was supposed to eventually kill.

“Between us,” Keegs replied just as softly, and this time... he meant it.

#holy SHIT how did this get so long #scrap.writing #asky doo #anon #drabble request #this isn't a drabble anymore it's a fucking one shot wjhbfwebfjwe

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tired-college-student-writing · 4 years

Text

Tim’s Secret Weapon Pt. 5

I’ve been slightly obsessed with @ozmav ‘s Damian Wayne/Marinette Dupain-Cheng pairing as of late, and just saw a post that has inspired me more than anything else has in months, so I felt the need to write it

Summary- Tim has always seen the numbers floating above people’s heads, been able to perceive their threat levels with a single glance. After being a hero for so long he thought he was desensitized to seeing high numbers above people’s heads until Damian brings a new friend home. Part 1 Part 4 Part 5 (HERE) Part 6 _______________________________________________________________________ Dick got a look on his face.

A pinched sort of look that made it look like he was thinking something over intently.

It was a look that filled all of the Bats and anyone that knew him from his Robin days with a sense of dread.

“Dick…” Jason drew out slightly, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m going to do a thing,” He replied almost offhandedly, “Since she hasn’t seen us yet.”

“Don’t-” Damian didn’t even finish since Dick had already disappeared, causing Tim to bury his head in his hands.

“God that’s annoying,” The other three found themselves groaning in unison, their own inside joke even as found his path almost instantly.

The eldest son snuck through the crowd of teens unnoticed, surprisingly. Most would think that one would notice the thirty-year-old right outside the secondary school, but he easily weaved through the crowds and worked his way behind the baker’s daughter.

Marinette was too involved in his conversation with the blond to notice Dick grinning mischievously at her from behind the half wall she was leaning against.

In a swift move, the acrobat grabbed her and lifted her onto his left shoulder in one fell swoop, earning a high pitched squeal from the girl as he spun in a circle perched on the half wall and drawing almost all of the attention of the whole courtyard.

“Hello, Mari!” He greeted casually as if her hands weren’t twisted into his hair in her shock.

She blinked down at him, taking a few seconds to register what was happening before her face morphed into fond irritation, “Seriously, Richard?”

The blond, Neon Green 15, she had been talking to was staring in between them as if he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be concerned or bemused.

“Ummmm… What’s going on?” the buff boy, White 12, from nearby asked, hand raised slightly.

Marinette glanced around and groaned as she realized that her entire class was staring at her up on top of Dick’s shoulders.

“Everyone, this is Dick” Marinette introduced, “He’s a family friend of sorts. Dick these are my classmates.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dick greeted waving a hand happily with Marinette still balance on one shoulder.

“Should have known Mari was skanky enough to get with a guy twice our age.” The Batfam stiffened and turned to look at the origin of the voice. It was the girl Tim pointed out earlier as being dangerous, Copper 9, a wide smirk on her face as her posse snickered. None of them had to turn to feel the bloodlust boiling off of Damian, not that they would deny the red tinge to their vision. Marinette had wilted in a millisecond.

“Told you that was a bad idea, Grayson,” Damian snapped as the other three walked over much calmer than they were feeling.

Marinette lit back up at their appearance and started poking Dick’s cheek.

“Put me down. Put me down. Put me down. Put me down. Put me down.”

“Okay, Okay!” He laughed as he lifted her off his shoulder and passed him easily to Jason.

Jason grinned, holding her on his hip, “Hey Marigold,”

“Jay!” She giggled giving him a hug, “Not the brother I wanted, and don’t hand me to Tim cause he looks like he hasn’t slept this week and I don’t want to be dropped.”

Jason clutched his chest, “That’s so mean, sunshine! Though you’re right about Tim.”

“Rude,” Tim grumbled, but couldn’t stop the grin that came to his face, “but hug the devil spawn before he tries to rip our arms off.”

Damian glared at him, but as soon as Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck he softened, placing a kiss on her hair, “Missed you, Habibiti,”

“Missed you too, Dames,” She giggled, excitement bubbling, "What are you guys even doing here? I know you don't like to travel too much."

Jason cut in, "Bruce was inspecting the Paris branch, so we just decided to tag along."

"Oh, Bruce is here too? I'll have to make some of those strawberry cream macaroons he likes."

“Brothers? Wow, that’s a new low,”

“Who the fuck are you?” Jason finally snapped, glancing over at Copper 9.

“Who are you?” one of the other girls standing with her, an obnoxious orange 5 twisting over her, asked, phone pointed at them, “Cause showing up to a high school isn’t exactly a good look for post-college graduates, mister.”

“Well going from oldest to youngest, He’s Dick, as Mari already said, I’m Jason, that’s Tim, and the twerp that’s snuggling up to Marigold is Damian, her boyfriend.”

“We’re brothers,” Dick added, as the group around the two girls looked stunned while many of the others perked up.

“This the guy you’ve been telling us about huh?” The tiny pink-haired girl, Icy Blue 13, comments, giving Damian a considering look.

Buff White 12, next to her smirked at them, “You do go for the lookers, huh, Nette?”

A red-haired boy, a lavender 4, laughed softly, “I thought he’d be taller,”

“Since when do you have a boyfriend?!” Orange 5 yelped, causing Mari to roll her eyes as she finally pulled away from the youngest Wayne.

“I’ve been telling you, Alya,” Marinette snapped making the boys blink. There was actual venom in her voice, ice pointily aimed at the other teen. Marinette never had real heat in her words, not even with the Rogues, “I started dating him a year ago, but you didn’t believe me.”

“Two soon,” Damian piped in, looking smug at the flabbergasted group.

“But you’re into Adrian!”

The blond boy, Adrian, Neon Green 15, frowned, “She and I are just friends. She’s been trying to get me with my crush for the last six months? Why on earth would you think she had a crush on me?”

Marinette shrugged, “I mean I did, but I got over it around your fourteenth birthday.”

“Wait,” the boy got a look of realization on his face, “Is that why you always stuttered around me?!”

“Oh my god!” Icy Blue 13 cried, “You can’t tell me you’re seriously that dense!”

“Homeschooled Alix!” He snapped back, “I was homeschooled by a recluse!”

“But if she’s not in love with Adrian,” The pixie cut blonde, Buttercup Yellow 3, questioned trembling slightly, “ Why has she been so mean to Lila?”

“Perhaps,” the nerdy boy, Nerdy White 12, pushing up his glasses, “Marinette’s feeling towards Lila has something to do with the fact that Lila’s claim of having a disease that causes her to do or say things she does not mean to can only be labeled as Compulsive Lying and yet half of the class believes every story that she tells and gets upset at anyone that dares to question her.”

“Shut it, Max,” Alya growled, “This has nothing to-”

“Utterly ridiculous,” The blonde girl, Canary Yellow 14 over her head, cut in without looking up from her phone, “You can’t seriously tell me this has nothing to do with Dupain-Cheng questioning Rossi’s idiotic stories.”

“No one cares about your opinion, Chloe,” Lila purred with an ugly scowl, “Or is it Chealse? I can’t keep up since your mother never seems to get it right.”

“Yeah, no,” Chloe continued, “That insult is like a year and a half too late, and I don’t have to do anything but ask questions.”

“What are you playing at, Bourgeois?”

Chloe looked up from her phone, eyes going to the group surrounding Lila, “At lunch, Lila was talking about her new boyfriend, right? Who feels like reminding everyone of who that was?”

The ginger girl, Tan 4, piped up, “She’s been dating Damian Wayne for the last month! They met at a conference for her nonprofit in Achu.”

Tim couldn’t stop the snort that escaped from him as Damian’s face twisted into disgust. Marinette’s hand covered her mouth to cover her smile but Dick and Jason didn’t even try to stop their laughter from shaking their frames.

“Of all the fucking people!” Jason wheezed, “You pick him!”

“Hey! Don’t laugh it’s romantic!” Canary Yellow 3 cried, tears pricking her eyes.

“Isn’t it Rose?” Lila cooed, eyes narrowed at the laughing group, “Dami-bear is such a sweet man.”

Chloe hummed, eyes sparkling, “I bet he is, but I have another question.”

“What?”

Instead of answering Alya’s question, she turned to the group that was laughing even harder, Dick and Jason were only standing from clutching to each other as they repeated, ‘Dami-bear’ over and over again.

“Do you boys happen to still have your passports on you?”

Tim held up a single finger as he tried desperately to regain his breath.

“What are you playing at, Chloe?” Alya snapped after a tense moment.

“Her point,” Damian growled, and suddenly Tim had a giggling Marinette leaning against his shoulder as the younger man stalked over “Is that I’ve never been to Achu.”

He thrust his passport into her camera lens.

Damian Wayne standing out from the page in stark clarity.

"Oh that note," Tim piped in, smirking slightly as he watched her nine wavier in place as if ready to flick down. Oh, how her tower of lies was crumbling, "using the Wayne to further yourself or claiming that one of us is cheating on anyone can be considered Defamation so I would suggest that you retract any statements you've made before we're forced to talk to our lawyers."

They didn't stick around to see the effect the pronouncement beyond the sickly color Lila turned as her whole posse turned to stare at her in disbelief. Alya looked panicked as the boys grabbed Marinette, who was practically vibrating with nervous energy and herded her towards their car.

Alfred raised an eyebrow, "Did you enjoy yourselves, sirs?"

"You know it!" Dick laughed, as they snapped their seatbelts.

"I hope they didn't cause too much trouble, Miss. Marinette."

"Hello Alfred," She greeted lightly even as her shoulders pulled up next to her ear, "It's nice to see you, and don't worry, they fixed a problem for me."

Tim wanted to ask, and he could see his brothers did as well, but Marinette shook her head.

"Can we go to where you're staying? I think my classmates are going to break out of their stupor soon and I don't want to face them yet."

Alfred's eyes were hard in the rearview mirror, but his voice was as level as ever, "Of course, Miss Marinette. Master Bruce actually would like to meet you at the hotel we're staying at."

"Let's not keep him waiting then,”

______________________________________________________________________

Telling Marinette they knew she was Ladybug could have gone in a lot of different ways, they were aware of this, and had planned for a multitude of them to try and ensure an easier time of getting the girl used to the fact that they knew and were in fact Superheros too.

What they weren’t expecting was for Marinette to pale the second Damian spoke the words, “We know you’re Ladybug,” and flip the platter of sweets into his face, effectively cutting him off before sprinting to the window screaming, “Spots on!”

They were not expecting a bright pink light to overtake her, nearly blinding them.

Tim was not counting on the fact that he could see her number through the blinding light as it faded to pure white as the numbers climbed higher and higher, vanishing once they reached 99, the light fading in the next millisecond to reveal Ladybug in all her glory.

They were not expecting her to open the 80th-floor window of their hotel suite and throw herself out of it, yo-yo catching the next building and flinging her away faster than humanly possible.

“Well,” Jason drawled, eyeing the carnage, “That went well.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Taglist: @vixen-uchiha @iggy-of-fans @mewwitch @roseinbloom02 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mochinek0 @royalchaoticfangirl @09shell-sea09 @mystery-5-5 @derpingrainbow @aloha-posts-stuff @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @maribat-archive @blue-peach14 @kae690 @zazzlejazzle @vincentvangoose @be-happy-every-day-please @xxmadamjinxx @celestiacq @peculiarlylostdreamer @dani-ari @melicmusicmagic @themcclan @nyctamaximoff @nataladriana9 @drama-queen-supreme @miraculousbelladonna @urbanpineapplefarmer @graduatedmelon @lexysama @hecate-hallow @ki117h3dr4g0n @vinerlover @interobanginyourmom @bluefiredemon @imanerddealwith @tinybrie @clumsy-owl-4178 @shizukiryuu @whogavemeaninternet @schrodingers25 @lunar-wolf-warrior @urbanpineapplefarmer @xxmadamjinxx @crazylittlemunchkin @littleredrobinhoodlum @rougemme @dur55 @phantommeow12 @kand-roo @silvergold-swirl @officiallyathiana @completelypeccable @redhoodsdoll @nataladriana9 @mariae2900 @northernbluetongue

#miraculous ladybug #batman #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #Damian Wayne #Tim Drake #meta!tim #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Alfred Pennyworth #miraculous class #numbers AU #lila gets exposed

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theangriestpea · 4 years

Text

The Killing Type | Three

Summary: Just when Lavender thought things were going great with Sweet Pea, a new girl comes back to turn to turn their entire relationship upside down. Now they have to navigate a world of drug dealers, rival gangs, and co-parenting. Sequel to Mercy Killing. <ao3> <masterlist>

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Pairings: Sweet Pea x OC // eventual Jughead Jones x OC

Warnings: Underage Drinking

Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: This chapter went to a weird place??? Oh well. I half planned on there to be more smut but it just didn't happen lol. That's probably for the best, I've been off my game lately.

Chapter Three : The L Word

When Sweet Pea finally joined Lavender at the cake, everyone began to sing Happy Birthday while she lit the candles surrounding the double-headed snake. He watched numbly, not even hearing the song end or the cheers that came after. She had to nudge him to get him to snap back to reality and blow out of the candles after making a quick wish (even though he thought wishing on birthday candles was utterly stupid, he still had some modicum of hope).

Cheryl cut the cake, divvying out a good sized piece to everyone. Sweet Pea got the first cut and the biggest slice, though he didn’t feel much in the mood for cake. He forced himself to take a bite, watching the way his ex’s eyes lit up with anticipation. She couldn’t wait to see what he thought.

Sweet Pea forced a small smile, “this is the best cake I’ve ever had.” He said honestly, it was very good. It just felt so...wrong. And he couldn’t place why. As if he shouldn’t be eating this because she got it for him. That by consuming it he was somehow trapped in this non-relationship. Maybe he was looking too far into it.

After grabbing a cold beer, Lav sat down at an empty table with her piece of cake. She watched as various serpents danced and talked, some were playing pool while others were chowing down on cake and other snacks that had been provided. She felt an incredible amount of pride for being able to put this all together for him, the afterglow of sex leaving a kind of invincible aura around her. A protective bubble if you will.

Someone sat down across the table from her and she gave a sideways glance to see that it was Lily. Lavender sipped her beer, pretending to not feel any sort of intimidation. Lily watched her eat silently for a few tense minutes.

“You don’t see what you’re doing, do you?” She finally asked, wondering how Lavender could supposedly know Sweet Pea so well, but not know that she was hurting him. It was extremely obvious to Lily who had grown up with him. Spending nearly every day with him for over a decade made it so she knew his every tell. Sweet Pea couldn’t hide shit from her and vise versa.

Lavender sighed, annoyed with this discourse already. “What are you talking about?”

Lily straightened up in her chair, “you’re hurting him but you don’t even realize it. I don’t think you can read him as well as you think you can.”

“I know he’s upset about the breakup but we talked about it. We’ll get back together when the time is right.” Lav replied, her voice growing cold. “I don’t see why it’s any of your business. You’re the reason we broke up in the first place.”

“I understand why you did it. Because you wanted us to have a chance, but I told you I don’t want his cheating ass back. It’s my business because he’s my best friend and you’re putting him through unnecessary heartbreak because of something stupid that I said, which he gladly chewed me out for later.” Lily said, trying to get through to her. “Toni and Jug said something to me too and I apologize for what I said. Maybe you’re not using him to get better. I just jumped to conclusions because I was hurt….”

Lavender waited patiently for her to continue. However, the conversation seemed to die off there. Lav had no idea what she wanted to do now. Did she take him back now that Lily had admitted to being wrong? This somehow felt like a trap. “I want him to focus on being a father.” Lav said. “I loved mine very much and I think it’s important for little girls to have a good dad in their life...and he missed out on so much already. I don’t want to take time away from her.”

Lily couldn’t help but feel a new appreciation for the girl she had deemed “the other woman”. Here she was just trying to help them keep their family together...and all Lily had done was attack her. She let out a soft sigh, regretting how unnecessarily harsh she had been.

An uncomfortable silence fell on them as Lav watched her nemesis, Kitty Rollins, approach Sweet Pea. Her grip on her beer bottle tightened as Lily watched the scene unfold. They were standing extremely close to one another, Sweet Pea was smiling and even laughed . Lavender felt anger and heartbreak all at once. They weren’t together, she told him he could see other people, but him actually doing it….that was not something she had been prepared for.

Lily watched both Lavender and Sweet Pea, instantly figuring out what her baby daddy was doing. He wasn’t actually interested in Kitty, that was evident, but he was putting on a show as if he were. It was all to goad Lavender into some kind of reaction. He naively thought that maybe if he showed her how much she still wanted him, that she’d come back. Maybe they could stop being platonic and go back to what they had.

Kitty grabbed a hold of Sweet Pea’s jacket, and Lavender nearly saw red. She had to chug down her beer to keep from losing it. “Lav, listen.” Lily said, reaching out to put a hand on top of the other girl’s. It was a very...strange gesture to Lavender. “He’s not into her, I promise. He only has eyes for you right now. He’s trying to rile you up.”

Lavender’s eyes softened as she looked back at Sweet Pea, who had chanced a glance at her before leaning in to whisper something to Kitty. The jealousy and rage returned in an instant. Even if Lily was telling the truth, it was working . “He’ll still have sex with her.” Lav said, “He had sex with me and he didn’t even know me.”

Lily pulled her hand away. “He will pretend to, sure. But he won’t actually do it. He’s too chicken shit. I promise, if they leave he’ll just drop her off at her trailer and leave her there. Trust me, he did the same thing to girls when we were taking a break just to annoy me. He doesn’t have side chicks when he’s actively in love with someone. I think...I think we had fallen apart before July even started.” She swallowed down the lump of pain in her throat. Even though she had moved on, it still hurt quite a bit when she thought about it.

Lav was staring at Lily now, eyes as wide as saucers. Her and Sweet Pea had never used the L word with one another. They weren’t ready. It was too big of a step. And while Lav had deep rooted suspicions that she did love Sweet Pea, she was almost sure that he didn’t love her back... at least, not romantically.

“He...loves me?” She asked, still not believing what Lily had just said. The brunette was unperturbed. Sweet Pea was terrible at saying those three words so it wasn’t surprising that he hadn’t told her how he felt. She also wondered if Lavender also had similar issues admitting to her feelings.

“Shanna,” Lav flinched at the use of her real name. “Trust me. No one knows Nathaniel better than I do. If he didn’t love you, then he would have gone out and banged the first chick he came across the night you broke up with him.”

Lav bit her lip, nearly giggling at finally knowing Sweet Pea’s real name. He would never tell her it, even after many nights of begging and trying to seduce it out of him. “Do you think...he could be a dad to her and a boyfriend to me?” She asked, her voice obviously unsure.

Lily smiled softly, “you’ll never know until you let him try.”

The purple haired girl stood, leaving her trash at the table for the time being as she sauntered over to Sweet Pea. He was giving her a curious look as he allowed Kitty to press her body against him. “ Nathaniel ,” Lav said sweetly. Kitty’s head snapped to look at the shorter girl, eyes narrowing into a glare. Her nose was now permanently crooked thanks to Lav’s little stunt when she first became a Serpent.

Sweet Pea grit his teeth, anger flaring at the sound of his name. Lily, he thought icily, looking to his ex as she waved with a huge smile on her face. His eyes shifted back to Lav who was completely ignoring Kitty. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“You’re not together anymore, Northside slut, back off.” Kitty hissed. Sweet Pea’s gaze hardened as he pushed her away from him. He knew how the Northsiders at Riverdale constantly called Lav demeaning names such as slut or whore after her attack. They didn’t know what really happened, and the rumors made it seem like she was gang-banged consensually by a bunch of Ghoulies.

He never stood for anyone calling her either word, because he knew how much it had destroyed her esteem. “Back off, Rollins.” He hissed at her, no longer wanting anything to do with the black haired girl. He put an arm around Lav, his large hand finding the small of her back so he could lead her away.

Though Lav was stricken by the insult, she pretended to brush it off as if it were nothing. She understood why Sweet Pea took the defensive stance and appreciated it greatly. He had even forgotten that she had called him by his real name. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I’ve been an idiot about this whole thing.” Lavender said admittedly, her cheeks dusting with a shade of pink. “Lily...Lily talked to me and she’s right. I shouldn’t be hurting you like this.” He made a face, not liking that she had called him out on his feelings. “I was just worried that I’d take you away from Daisy, but I should have at least let you try to figure out how to balance us.”

He let out a pent up breath, nodding his head slowly. “So what does this mean? You want to get back together?” His heart seemed to be thudding painfully in his chest, as if it were burst free at any moment.

She turned to face him, looking up with those big hazel eyes that drew him in every time. “I know this has been really weird for both of us, Lily and Daisy coming back into your life. But I think...I really think we can work through it. So, if you want me to be your girlfriend again then I would lo-” She cut herself off, “then I would be extremely happy.”

Sweet Pea stared at her, his feelings all jumbled together like a poorly wrapped skein of yarn. “So we’re dating again?” He asked, a bit confused by her rambling.

Lav let out a frustrated groan, “yes! We’re dating again!”

He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face, his heart pumping full of joy as he leaned down to kiss her with her small face in his hands. She sighed into the kiss, moving her lips against his until Fangs came up and slapped Sweet Pea on the ass.

“Dude!” Sweet Pea snapped at him, not liking the interruption.

“Are you two fucking again or what?” Fangs asked, a stupid smile on his lips. “Because I’m kinda over this whole broken up thing. Not that I don’t love sleeping with you in my arms, Lavie.”

Sweet Pea made a face at him and Fangs quickly changed his tune, “platonically, Sweets. It was a joke.” Sweet Pea rolled his eyes and pulled Lav close to him in a possessive way.

“Anyway,” Fangs said after rolling his eyes. “Let’s celebrate! Drinks on me everybody!” He yelled out, making the crowd cheer.

“Fogarty, I pre-bought all the alcohol you idiot.” Lavender said, a cute pout on her face. “Stop taking credit for my generosity!”

Fangs smirked before walking off, waving his hand at him in a goofy goodbye. “Jerk.” Lav muttered playfully before looking back up at Sweet Pea who had been staring down at her.

“This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.” He mumbled at her, a blush creeping up his neck. “Thanks Rhodes.”

“You’re welcome, Pea.”

The party went on fairly late into the night. As things were starting to wrap up, Lavender noticed that Lily had disappeared even though the rest of their core group was there helping to clean up. “Where’s Lily?” Lav asked Sweet Pea who just sighed.

He ran a hand through his hair, “she keeps disappearing at weird hours. She left about forty-five minutes ago, told me to pick up Daisy and apologized for making me watch her on my birthday. She said she had something to do. Who has something that important to do at two in the morning?”

Lav frowned, seeing a foreign look on his face. If she didn’t know any better, then she would have thought that it was distraught strewn across his features. “You don’t know where she goes?”

“No.” He replied, his tone erring on the side of anger. “She just tells me to watch Daisy and leaves. Sometimes she’s gone for hours.”

Lav threw the trash she had in her hands away, ��maybe we should follow her one day.” She looked up to see his thoughtful expression.

“You’re right, Shanna.” She grimaced at her name, “next time we’ll follow her and see where she goes.”

She pulled him down for a quick kiss. “Can I spend the night with you? I don’t want you to be by yourself on your birthday.”

He smirked at her, “technically my birthday ended at midnight. But if you think you can handle a crying baby waking you up in the night, then sure.”

Lav couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “I should have known you’d adjust to that quickly seeing as I used to be that crying baby waking you up all the time.”

Sweet Pea’s gentle smile turned into a disapproving look. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.” He said, not liking her speaking negatively about the aftereffects of her trauma. “You’re not a baby.”

She looked up at him through her thick eyelashes. “I’m your baby.” She said cutely, trying to lighten the mood.

He rolled his eyes at her before letting out a sigh of defeat, “yeah, yeah. I guess you are. Hurry up, Princess, so we can go home.”

With the help of the others, they finished cleaning up the Wyrm and packing up the leftover food. Lavender told Sweet Pea she’d meet him at his trailer since they drove separately and she still had his key. Luckily she knew she still had some clothes stashed over there from when they were dating previously. It just seemed stupid to take it all home when they’d get back together eventually.

When she arrived, she put the food away before retreating to his bedroom, ignoring all of the baby toys strewn across the living room and hallway. She changed into one of his t-shirts and stretched out on his bed as she waited for him to join her.

About ten minutes later, Sweet Pea arrived with a sleeping Daisy. Since it was so late, she was in too deep of a sleep to wake up when he picked her up and brought her home. He put her in her crib and turned on a night light before going into his room.

He couldn’t help but grin at the familiar sight of Lavender on his bed wearing his clothes. The shirt swallowed her whole and looked more like a dress than anything. She glanced up from her phone and smiled back at him. “Hey, birthday boy.” She said, “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s not your birthday any more.” She added sarcastically.

Sweet Pea rolled his eyes at her as he got undressed, stripping down to his boxers before turning off the light and laying down beside her. Lavender planted her face into his hard chest as he arms wrapped tightly around here.

They laid in silence for a few moments before she broke it. “Where do you think she’s going?” Lav murmured. He could barely hear her as her voice was muffled by his skin. She always seemed to smother herself against him whenever she got the chance. He had no idea how she could possibly comfortably breathe.

“I don’t know.” Sweet Pea said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “She’s been different since she got back. She’s always in a shitty mood. Yells at me any chance she gets. I know that I hurt her and that I deserve it but...I don’t know, something just doesn’t feel right.”

Lavender let out a small hum in response, unsure of what to say. “You should thank her.” She said finally and she felt him tense up against her.

“For what?” He asked, confused by why his girlfriend would suggest such a thing. “She broke us up.”

“Maybe,” Lavender replied, moving her head slightly so he could hear her better, “but she also got us back together. I probably would have still been trying to prove something to her if she hadn't apologized to me. I guess you and the others laid into her pretty badly for what she said.”

His grip on her tightened. “I told her she was a jealous idiot.” He hissed. “And that you were going to therapy. And...that you still need protection.”

“What are you talking about? We took care of the Ghoulies.” Lavender replied, not understanding. She had been in the clear since the dust settled after taking out the last three.

“The Ghoulies want revenge, Shanna.” Sweet Pea said. “They’ve been making threats again. Jughead may have gotten a lot of them locked away for the time being with that stupid race, but they’ll be out sooner rather than later. It won’t be good.”

She attempted to pull away from him but he wouldn’t let her, keeping his arms firmly in place. “Are you saying they’re after me again? Sweet Pea, why didn’t you tell me?!”

He could feel her heart rate spike through their chests, hear the impending terror in her voice. “They’ve got a score to settle with you, but we won’t let it happen. Okay? Fangs and I have been watching you day and night.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked in a pathetic tone, no longer fighting against him.

“Because if I had then you would have been too scared to sleep and when you don’t sleep you’re an impossible bitch to be around.” Sweet Pea said, “Nothing is going to happen. We’ll watch out for you.”

Lavender huffed, her heart still racing. She attempted to shove her fear outside of her mind, tried to will herself to calm down. At least she felt safe there, in his bed with him holding her so tightly that she could barely move. It was better than being home alone. Hell, it was even better than sharing a bed with Fangs like she often did during her and Sweet Pea’s time apart. The thought of them being together again was the only thing that allowed her to slowly drift to sleep.

The next day, the young Serpents decided to go to the quarry to relieve some stress that had been building due to rising tensions with the Ghoulies. Lavender had opted to wear a sundress that was long enough to cover the tops of her thighs where her scars were. She was lounging in the sun, sipping a daiquiri that Fangs had made for everyone before they left. He filled as many thermoses as he could find to keep them from melting too fast.

Sweet Pea had bought her a new bikini so that she couldn’t use the excuse that hers no longer fit. He wasn’t totally clueless and the biggest sign that she was having body issues were the photos she had given him. Her scars had been barely visible when he knew they were thick bands of stark white against her skin. Either Toni had edited the photos or she had covered her scars with makeup. He assumed the latter.

Lavender made the excuse that she didn’t feel like swimming so she was just going to sit on the shore. She wasn’t about to go in front of everyone wearing nothing but a skimpy bikini. Though she quite loved the one he had bought for her, she simply wasn’t ready.

He walked up, dripping wet as he sat down next to her. She smiled at him softly and offered him her drink, which he took and gulped down. “The water feels great. You should go in.” He said, pretending to be oblivious to her concerns. “It’s not too cold like you thought it might be.”

She frowned, not wanting to argue with him but not wanting to go in either. “Maybe later.” She murmured. “Daisy really likes the water, huh?” She asked in an attempt to change the subject.

They watched the little nine month old, held by her mother, splash around in the water. She was giggling and babbling, making all kinds of happy noises. The others all had smiles on their faces as well. They didn’t seem to notice either teen on the bank.

Sweet Pea did not allow for her to deflect the conversation. He stood back up and quickly scooped his girlfriend into his arms. Lav grappled with him, attempting to get away as she knew what he was about to do. “Sweet Pea! Stop! Put me down!”

“No, you’re going to have fun with us.” He said angrily. “You’re not going to sit over here by yourself like a loser anymore. Christ, even Jones is out there instead of being a wet blanket.”

They came closer to the water and Lav continued to struggle, doing anything she could to get away. Anything besides physically hurting him, which she really did not want to do. “I mean it, Nathaniel, put me down!”

“Okay, Shanna.” Sweet Pea said, dropping her suddenly. She realized her mistake when her body hit the water. She screamed again at him as she righted herself as quickly as she could.

“You are such an asshole!” She screeched, attempting to storm back to shore, however he stopped her by standing in front of her. Any time she tried to get around, he’d move to block her still.

“You’re going to swim with us.” He said firmly. “Or else.”

She rolled her eyes, “Or else what? I’m not a child!”

He leaned down to whisper to her, “Or else I’ll hold out on you, baby girl. Don’t forget, I know just how much you need me to get you off.”

Lavender stopped, her face heating up even though she knew the others couldn’t hear him. “Prick.” She hissed before sinking down into the water. “I hate you.”

Sweet Pea merely shrugged nonchalantly, “sure you do. Why don’t you take your dress off so it doesn’t get ruined.”

She glared at him, “It wouldn’t be ruined if someone didn’t drop me into the water!”

Fangs swam over to them, grabbing Lav by the waist. “I can unzip you!” He said, a giant grin on his handsome face. “I’ll take it to shore. I gotta take a leak.”

“I’m not taking my dress off!” She snapped at the two of them as she tried to get out of Fangs’ grasp. It wasn’t much use, he was too strong for her and the water resistance made it ever harder to struggle.

“Take it off, Fogarty.” Sweet Pea said darkly.

Lavender began to panic, her eyes flooding with tears that made both boys stop their harassment. What Sweet Pea hadn’t intended was triggering her with his order. Her mind jolted into the darkness of a flashback from that night.

“God damn it.” Sweet Pea huffed as he pulled her into his arms to try and calm her down. She only struggled against him, hitting his chest as hard as she could until he let her go. She swam around him and took to the shore, grabbing a towel before running into the forest.

“Good job, asshole.” Lily said and Sweet Pea noticed that everyone was glaring at him. He groaned and turned, about to go after her when Lily stopped him. “Don’t. You’ll make things worse. I’ll go while you play with Daisy.”

Sweet Pea reluctantly took his daughter into his arms as Lily, Toni, and Cheryl all went to go after Lav. Fangs and Jughead were quiet, watching them go. A heavy silence fell on them as Sweet Pea bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to scream until his lungs gave out or punch something until it reduced to tiny little pieces. He had been so good at not triggering her. He hadn’t stepped on a landmine in months . All that work vanished in a split second when he pushed her too far. Christ, why did he always take things too far?

In the woods, Lavender had found a large rock to curl up on as she cried. She didn’t soften her sobs, not realizing that she had been followed. She let herself break down into a soggy mess, unable to form a coherent thought. She could feel their knives gliding across her skin. Her clothes rip off her body. The sheer pain and terror all came back as strong as the night it happened.

“Lavie,” A soft voice broke the sounds of her crying. Lav shrunk against the stone, turning so her back was to the person who called her name. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this. It was embarrassing.

She felt Toni’s arm wrap around her shoulders in a soothing gesture. Lav’s body tensed, unwilling to relax against anyone in the moment even if it was her best girlfriend. “It’s okay, you’re not alone. We’re here.”

Lav did her best to stifle her sobs. She hiccuped back tears as she finally leaned into Toni’s side for comfort. She felt guilty for ruining their fun. “I-I’m sorry.” She managed to stutter out. “I-I didn’t mean.”

“Do not apologize, Purpura Serpenta.” Cheryl said in a calming tone. Lav felt her arm wrap around her waist. “You did nothing wrong.” She added. “That buffoon of a boyfriend of yours is at fault.”

“He didn’t mean to.” Lavender said in a weak attempt to defend him. She didn’t sound like she believed herself.

Lily sat down behind her, resting her back against hers. “He was being an idiot.” She said in a frustrated tone that was totally directed at him and not the crying girl behind her. “Obviously you didn’t want to swim, he should have just left you alone.”

“It’s not that…” Lav mumbled, “I did want to.”

Toni squeezed her shoulder. “You can tell us, Lavie, it’s okay.”

“They’re so ugly.” Lav murmured, nearly breaking down again. “I don’t want anyone to see them.”

The other three were silent, unsure of what to say. Toni and Cheryl continued to hold her as Lily kept their backs touching for her own show of support. “I know it’s not the same but...I feel like my body is a disaster after pregnancy.” Lily said, hiding her face so they couldn’t see how embarrassed she felt to admit it. “My stomach isn't back to where it used to be...I’ve got these gross stretch marks that won’t ever go away. I just wish it could have gone back to what it was before Sweet Pea knocked me up.”

“I wish I was taller.” Toni confessed. “Also not the same, but I hate being so small. No one takes me seriously until I punch them or pull out my knife. It’s such a headache.”

“I love your height.” Cheryl said with a small pout. “It’s perfect to me.”

Lavender began to breathe normally again as she slowly crawled back up from the depths of her inner hell. “I shouldn’t have run away with the Ghoulies giving threats...I’m such an idiot.”

“We wouldn’t let you come out here alone.” Toni replied, pulling her closer. “So don’t worry about that. Even when Sweet Pea and Fangs are being complete jerks, we’ll always have your back.” The other two girls murmured an affirmative.

After a few beats of silence, Lavender uncurled herself from the rock. “We should go back. Before the boys hurt themselves somehow.”

Lily snorted, “dumbasses.” She stood up and offered her hand to Lavender who reluctantly took it. She smiled at her warmly. “You know the best way to get back at him?” She asked, a devious glint in her eye that did not match her smile.

Lav blinked, “what?”

“Just ignore him. He can’t take it. It drives him absolutely crazy.” Lily said, trying her best not to giggle. “I used to do it any time he annoyed me or pissed me off. He’ll be begging for attention in minutes.”

A small smile broke across Lav’s lips. “Okay. Why don’t we both do it?” She asked. “It’ll be twice as much punishment.”

Lily couldn’t help but laugh at the idea, “brilliant, let’s do it.” The two linked arms before returning to the quarry, completely ignoring Sweet Pea, Fangs and Jughead the rest of the afternoon.

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coffeecomicsgalore · 4 years

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Unveiled Love

@smutember

Ao3

Chapter 19 – Yo-yo and the Baton

“What the fuck.”

That was all Adrien could say when he saw the most up to date news on the Ladyblog. Is the Ladynoir Ship Dead? There it was, a picture of Chat Noir with his arms wrapped around Multimouse and a few pictures of them holding each other and kissing before Marinette pulled away and ran off so he could chase after her. He scrolled throughout the most recent posts, ensuring no one else had photographed the aftermath, and he sighed with relief when he noticed that that was it.

Well, besides the whole, Who is this New Superhero? post, with tons of comments already on it. There were various speculations from a brand new superhero to Ladybug in disguise. When that one comment came up, Adrien’s eyes bugged out of his head, fearing that the connection would blow Marinette’s cover completely. The only other person who would have known Marinette as Multimouse was Ms. Mendelieve, yet, he wasn’t sure how “there” her mental stability was while recovering from the after effects of Hawkmoth’s control.

Then his eyes widened. While she wasn't known for spreading rumors, if Ms. Mendelieve did remember anything from that day, she would have remembered that Marinette was Multimouse, who was now two timing Adrien by making out with a superhero. He had to pray to all powerful beings that his bad luck wouldn't cause that to happen, because if it did, there would be no way to fix this whole thing without someone's reputation in the gutter.

Biting the inside of his cheek, he thrummed his fingertips against the desk, trying to come up with a fool proof way of pushing this entire thing away. He needed to do something for Marinette. The last two days have been difficult for her with the disgusting rumor of “gold digging whore”, plus the backlash from trying to resolve it. Even Gabriel’s PR department was reluctant to help them, courtesy of his father, no doubt, so they had to do things their own way.

Luckily for them, Alya forgave them completely, but it was not without embarrassing the two of them with all the foolish (and oblivious) moments from the beginning of time. Once the torment was over, Alya sprung into action and prepared a press conference; had applied and approved to conduct a formal interview and photoshoot for this week’s publication of Le Monde, which included the front cover photo of Adrien and Marinette posing under a black veil with the subtitle Unveiled Love: The Secret Romance of Adrien and Marinette; and, started writing up social media posts with their corresponding pictures that would be scheduled to release to the public at perfect increments from both their accounts.

But even with all the help they received from the reporter, the news of Chat and Multimouse together on the blogger’s website was causing another headache to his already tired brain.

He sighed as he stared at the screen, trying to come up with a way to save face. Suddenly, the door opened, revealing a very disheveled Marinette barging through the door. Adrien shot up from his spot at the desk and turned towards her. Before he could say anything, Marinette raised her hand up with an index finger raised, and Adrien promptly pursed his lips. He watched as she made it to the fridge and opened up the bottle of wine, drinking it straight from the bottle.

“Rough day?” Adrien tried to make a joke, but it came out harsh. Marinette turned as she continued to chug the bottle, glaring daggers into his soul. Going out as Multimouse was Adrien’s idea; guess in hindsight, it wasn’t the best thought out plan.

When Marinette stopped drinking to gasp for air, she lashed out and stated the words on her mind. “I should tie you up to the Eiffel Tower with my yo-yo. Or even better! I should shove your baton up your ass as haul you over the firey pits of hell.”

Adrien placed his arms up in surrender and decided it was best to get a bath ready with calming scents. Marinette was too wound up to deal with anything at this moment, even a simple conversation to ask what she would like for dinner would probably be a bad thing. But he knew that in her current disarray, she would just have a liquid diet of wine, wine, and more wine, and he couldn't allow that to happen, especially if an akuma were to happen while she was drunk.

That would really show how terrible his bad luck is.

He watched as she continued to chug the bottle, removing it from her lips when she was done. She then tipped the bottle over to see if any more liquid would come out, almost willing for more alcohol to just slip out of it somehow. He slipped into the bedroom and sighed as he arrived unscathed, then made his way to their bathroom to turn the faucet on. He slipped in some lavender oils and lit some candles, then walked back out to their bed and sat on the edge. As he waited for the tub to fill, he slipped out his phone and placed an order for delivery pizza. Once that was done, he returned to the bath and turned it off, then slowly peered out the doorway to see where Marinette could be.

His face fell when he noticed the second open bottle of wine sitting on the table, and he could make out how far she had consumed by how tilted the bottle was in her hand.

“Mari…” He tried to get her to stop, hoping the worry in his words would get her to see the current issue.

Marinette only looked up at him and shot back most of the wine, puckering her lips as the sweet drink surpassed her throat. She hiccuped then giggled, and started to sing out some random song that made Adrien scrunch up his nose.

Marinette tried to grab the bottle to pour the remaining amount out into a glass she had apparently set out, but Adrien quickly ran in and swooped it from her. He lifted it quickly, not realizing how little liquid there was, then shot Marinette a bewildered expression when he realized there was only a glass or two left.

“Two bottles?”

Marinette burped and giggled again. “Actu-lly. One an fourth? or was it a haffff.” Her words were slurred and Adrien could barely make what she was saying.

“You drank almost two bottles of wine in a half hour. How is that possible?”

“Dunno.” Marinette pressed her fingers to the cool table, then placed her forehead down. “I hate you,” she murmured, but there was no conviction in her voice. “Multmouse was with Chat! But Ladybug is with Chat. Chat cheated on Ladybug with Multimouse.” She began to sob. “But I’m Ladybug! I’m Multimouse! I’m screwed if they figure it out! I should have never gone out! I should have just stayed home like the responsible adult-slash-guardian I’m supposed to be and pretend the world is alright even when it’s not!”

Adrien could only watch as she cried on the table, no doubt the news of the “new” superhero making out with Chat Noir when she thought it was a quiet and secluded area without prying eyes.

It was as if the entire world was out to get them this week and Marinette’s resolve was surely destroyed by this point. He hated to see her like this; heck, he had never seen her like this, but even the best people have their breaking points sometimes.

Adrien pursed his lips as he thought of his next move. He walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her body, letting her know he was there and she was safe.

“Hey.” He whispered, prompting her to tilt her head a bit. She was then able to open up one eye and look up at him. “I ordered pizza and I just got the bath started for you. Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll bring you a slice. We don’t have to talk about anything today. We are just going to relax and destress before we tackle this head on.”

Marinette groaned and closed her eyes again as anger began to bubble in her chest. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I’m the worst guardian ever!”

Adrien was about to say something when the akuma alert went off.

“Oh come on!” Marinette yelled out, screaming at the phone beside her. “One fucking night, Hawkmoth. You couldn’t just give me one fucking night to drink until I couldn’t remember my name anymore.” Marinette got up, grabbed the bottle from Adrien’s hand, and chugged the remaining bit of it before she shoved the bottle back in his hands.

Adrien watched as she wiped the remnants of the wine from her lips. She stumbled as she stood straight up and Adrien could not believe what she was about to do.

“Don’t you dare transform. You are in no condition to go out like that.”

“Don’t tell me what to do. Hurry your ass up and get transformed. We have an akuma to get.”

“No.” Adrien spit out. “Not while you’re drunk.”

“Too fucking bad. Hawkmoth is a bitch and we need to capture that stupid butterfly. Tikki, spots on!”

Adrien covered his eyes as the pink flash filled the room. His jaw was slacked, utterly confused over Marinette’s complete disregard of her actions and still going out there mostly drunk. He watched as she jumped out the balcony door, not waiting a second to hear his response over something that she had said.

Plagg hovered over to his chosen as he watched Ladybug yo-yo half-hazardly across the rooftops. “Kid. Protect her please. She needs it tonight.”

Adrien let out a defeated sigh. “Let’s go. Claws out.”

#Unveiled Love #smutember #smutember 2020 #adrienette #ml angst

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Galactica, Chapter 11 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: We continue to be honored and thrilled by the responses to this story. Thank you so much to anyone who’s giving us feedback! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Courtney’s first day ended less eventfully than it began (thank god), and Violet got a very enticing invite from Pearl.

This Chapter: Violet prepares for her big date, and we meet a ravishing supermodel.

***

Violet turned on the shower, her delicate hand testing the water, waiting for it to grow hot. She had occupied one of the bathrooms in the apartment, spending the evening on a self-pampering session that had been desperately needed. Who knew that having someone helping her do her job would create twice as much work? It was only the second day of having Courtney in the office, and Violet felt like a babysitter. No wonder her predecessor hadn’t stuck around to train her.

The bathroom was filled with the sweet scent of lavender as Violet had lit several candles.

Violet stepped into the spray, sighing in relief as the hot water beat down on her sore shoulders and back. So much had happened today, everything running around in her head as she released her hair, covered it in a hair mask. No matter how much she tried to keep her thoughts away, they kept turning to Pearl. Violet bit her lip. Pearl had asked her out. Actually asked her out. She turned around, letting the spray wash over her face, a flush creeping into her cheeks as she was aching with arousal. Pearl always tore her apart with a single look, and it was driving Violet insane.

They had been so close in the office, Pearl’s hand so warm on her arm.

Violet bit her lip again, shame washing over her as she reached up and grabbed the shower head, leaning back against the wall. Was she really doing this? Her breath was already coming in short gasps as she spread the folds of her sex, careful not to damage herself with her perfectly manicured nails.

Pearl had smelled so good, ready to eat, sweet as a flower with her own scent lingering just underneath. Violet wanted nothing more than to bury her face in Pearl’s neck, disappear into the other’s hair. Violet knew with certainty that Pearl’s breasts would be perfect, they would fit so well in her hands, taste perfect if she kissed them.

Violet moaned as the spray hit her, her entire body already humming. She wanted Pearl so badly, wanted to get fucked by the blonde like she had never wanted anyone else before.

“F-fuck… Fuck.”

Violet bit her lip hard, the steady and hard spray beating against her making her legs tremble, her tits so full, her nipples so hard they ached as she imagined what Pearl would look like between her legs. Violet clawed at the wall as orgasm hit her, her vision blinding out for a second which made her throw the shower head away, not even the high of her orgasm helping against the ice cold dread collecting in her stomach.

She just had one of the best orgasms of her life thinking about Pearl and Violet had never been more fucked in her life.

***

Katya was humming to herself as she listened to “Dreaming” by Blondie on her headphones, making her way from the elevator to the design department at Galactica. It was Wednesday around lunch and Katya was finished with her half day at the community center.

Katya sneaked into the design department, a big smile on her face when she realized that Trixie was bent over Jovan’s desk, completely gone from the world as he was busy doing the math for the pattern of a dress so it could be sent off to their tailors.

Katya giggled to herself, shushing everyone in the department she made eye contact with before placing her hands over Trixie’s eyes.

“Peek-a-boo, guess who!”

“Argh!” Trixie jumped, his knee slamming into the table he was sitting at. “Fuck!”

“Oh my god, babe, are you okay?”

They could hear laughter from all around them as everyone in the design department had seen the mishap, which made Trixie and Katya laugh as well. Katya giggled as she sat down next to Trixie, giving him a quick kiss.

“Hey…”

“Hey.” Trixie smiled, happy to see Katya who gently patted down his short brown hair, covering Trixie’s emerging bald spot. “What are you doing here?”

“I never see you anymore, so I brought lunch.”

Trixie nodded, stretching a little, his bones popping as he got into a proper upright position.

“I just need to finish this, okay? Then I’ll be there.”

Katya smiled, giving Trixie another kiss. “I’ll be in your office, but don’t take too long, or the food will get cold.” Katya discreetly showed Trixie the inside of her gigantic Hello Kitty bag and Trixie saw not one, not two, but three brown paper bags from McDonald’s.

“You know what, this can wait.”

Trixie's lunch break was spent in his office, Katya’s laptop on the table in front of them, playing Pocahontas as they made their way through the greasy and, frankly, perfect food.

***

“Hieeeee…”

A tall, statuesque blonde with huge hair, amazing pink Louboutins, and a turquoise pencil skirt stood in the doorway.

Courtney looked up, grateful to have a distraction from the lecture she was getting on Violet about meeting protocols. She’d been drilling her about everyone’s refreshment preferences, getting extremely irritated when Courtney couldn’t remember whether Alyssa liked regular or sugar-free Red Bull, and even more annoyed when Courtney suggested that sometimes people’s tastes change, so she’d just bring in a bigger selection.

“Hi, Alaska,” Violet said. “Are those the new samples?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Courtney grinned, eyes lighting up happily. Ah, this was the SVP of Cosmetics that she’d been excited to meet. Which meant that the bag in her hand was full of samples of their new makeup line. Courtney was practically dancing in her seat as she held out her hand.

“Hi! I’m Courtney, Miss Fame’s new assistant!” she chirped, and Alaska turned to her with a bright smile.

“Hello there, Courtney, I’m Alaska. I absolutely adore that top! What a great print!”

Courtney glanced down at her shirt, a fitted button-down in purple paisley for which Violet had already expressed mild distaste.

“Thank you so much,” Courtney said. “And I love your...everything.”

Alaska laughed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“We’re gonna get along great.”

“Courtney, why don’t you organize the samples and then I’ll show you how to do the swatch cards for Miss Fame,” Violet instructed.

“Okay!” Courtney jumped up enthusiastically.

***

“But that’s crazy! How many do you throw away every day?”

Violet let out an aggravated groan. She was filling Courtney in on how she could best make sure she always had fresh, hot coffee on hand for Miss Fame. Only Courtney didn’t seem to appreciate the advice at all. Actually, she just seemed horrified.

“It’s not about how many we throw away,” Violet snapped. “It’s about always being prepared.”

“She can’t wait 10 minutes for coffee when she wants it?” Courtney folded her arms, a skeptical expression on her face.

“No!” God, why must Courtney be such a child?

“Well...I mean, I’m not trying to judge you, but I can’t do that in good conscience. The waste would keep me up at night. You must be throwing away at least 10 cups every day. Right?”

Violet glared at her, trying to resist the strong desire to trip Courtney up on purpose, when the phone rang.

“Miss Fame’s office.” Violet pressed the phone in between her shoulder and ear. “Oh, hello Roxy.” Violet tapped away at her computer. “Yes, yes she’s here. No, Fame is in a meeting with Raja-”

Courtney had wanted to duck beneath her desk when Raja had walked into their office earlier that day, a large folder under her arm, her steps filled with a level of authority that quite frankly scared Courtney. She would be terrified of Raja, if it wasn’t for the fact that Ivy was always right behind her, the redhead's gentle smile like a balm on Courtney’s frazzled nerves.

“We’ll make space for her right away.”

“Space?” Courtney hadn’t meant to reveal that she was listening in on Violet’s conversation.

Violet shot her an ice cold look, doing a zip it gesture with her fingers, and Courtney immediately shut up. As soon as she hung up, however, Courtney couldn’t keep her mouth closed any longer.

“Is Fame getting a visitor? Who is it? Is it someone famous?!”

“Fluff the pillows,” Violet pointed at the cream couch as she straightened up the magazines on the coffee table. “Quickly, please, Raven hates if they’re not perfectly-”

“Raven?!” Courtney squealed. “Raven Petruschin?!”

“Is there anyone else by that name on the approved list?” Violet shot her a glance, and it was in that exact moment that they were interrupted.

“My my my.”

Courtney turned around to see a stunning woman leaning against the doorframe. She had some of the most perfect lips Courtney had ever seen, her nude lipstick effortlessly accentuating how pillowy soft they looked. She had steel grey eyes, long black straight hair cascading down her back.

“What have we here?” She was wearing a beige bodycon dress, the fabric hugging her in all the right places. She pushed away from the frame, putting her black Chanel sunglasses in her hair, a Birkin bag dangling from her wrist. She smiled, the diamonds in her ears catching the light.

“Hello Raven. What a pleasant surprise.” Violet smiled as she straightened her back. “Can I get you a refreshment?”

“Oh. Yes please.” Raven walked right past Courtney, not even acknowledging her existence as she sat down on the couch, leaning against the pillow Courtney had just fluffed. “I’m on a rehydration diet so water would be great. Non-tap, of course. Evian if you have it, with a couple of lime slices.”

“Coming right up.” Violet nodded and disappeared into the tiny kitchenette that was connected to their office.

“Oh my gosh, you’re… you’re Raven….” Courtney’s mouth hung open, complete awe on her face as she watched the tall, dark-haired woman sit on the sofa.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Courtney!” Courtney smiled brightly as she stood up, extending her hand towards Raven for a handshake which Raven reluctantly took. “I’m Miss Fame’s new assistant; Violet is training me!”

“Ah.” Raven took Courtney’s hand in hers. Her skin was incredibly soft, her manicure done to perfection and Courtney had to resist the desire to stroke it. “I’m Raven. but I guess you already knew that…” Raven smiled, her perfect face even more beautiful as she released Courtney’s hand.

“Are you kidding me? Seriously, oh my gosh. I admire your work so so much!”

“Is that so?” Raven asked.

“Yes! In year 7, I had one of your Vogue covers in my locker! You’re such an icon, I always wanted to be just like you when I grew up!”

Raven’s eyes narrowed slightly, breaking out into an icy smile; there was nothing more irritating to her than being reminded of her rapidly waning 20s. She instantly decided that she absolutely hated this cheap blonde.

“And look at you now,” she said smoothly. “Right in the thick of it.”

“Yes, well…” Courtney laughed nervously. “It’s not quite like being Karl Lagerfeld's favorite muse, but we all gotta start somewhere, right?”

Raven surveyed her critically, determined to find a flaw and to her delight, finding several. Too talkative, too short, too blonde, too...fucking eager.

“Indeed. And if Fame sees something in you...well, then I’m sure you have a very bright future.” Violet returned with the water, which Raven took with a small smile and an air kiss to Violet’s cheek.

Courtney looked like a child on Christmas day, joy etched into her expression.

“Is the meeting done soon? I’ve tried texting Raja, but she hasn’t replied yet…” Raven almost pouted, a hint of annoyance playing in her voice.

“Let me check for you.” Violet smiled up at Raven, all pleasant manners and perfect politeness. “Ah. The meeting is almost over, so I’m sure Raja will be with you shortly-”

Just then, the door to Fame’s office opened to reveal Ivy, who shot an apologetic smile at them.

“Violet!” Fame’s voice traveled into the office. “Violet come in here!”

Violet grabbed her notebook, already standing up but she had apparently been too slow, since Fame was already at the door.

“Why are you not ready, Violet? Do you have anything more important to do-” Fame trailed off. “Raven! Hello dear. What are you doing here? Have we kept you waiting? Violet, you know Raven is on the approved list, why is she waiting?”

“Raven wante-”

“It’s my fault!” Raven quickly stepped in, a sweet smile on her face.

“Princess, is that you?” Raja appeared in the door, her entire face lighting up when she saw Raven, and quickly went over to kiss her.

Raven put her arms around Raja’s neck, the two women locking lips for way longer than what was appropriate in a workplace environment. Courtney’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

“Hey.” Raven smiled, her fingers curled in the cobalt blue of Raja’s silk shirt. “I’m here to take you out for lunch.”

“Are you now?” Raja smirked, amusement clear in her face.

Courtney was completely enthralled, watching the two gorgeous women stand so close together their chests were touching, Raja’s hands resting on Raven’s hips.

“I guess we do have something to celebrate.”

“You two are too much.” Fame sighed, but she was clearly happy, Courtney barely recognizing the relaxed expression on her boss’s face.

Courtney heard a ding from her computer, and it was in that moment that she had realized Violet was furiously DM’ing her on the company network, telling her in increasingly frustrated messages to look away and not intrude on the conversation of their direct superiors.

“Can’t I be interested in spending lunch with my fiancée?”

Fame stopped, and then, Courtney saw the weirdest thing yet at Galactica.

“Oh my god!” Fame jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “Raja, oh!” Fame ran over, throwing her arms around Raja and Raven, hugging them both close. “Oh congratulations, my darling!”

Raja laughed, and if Courtney hadn’t been so caught up in following the scene like it was a bizarre improv piece, she would have noticed Violet blushing before she quickly ducked her head, very pointedly looking anywhere but at the scene in front of them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” Fame kissed Raja’s cheek, a laugh leaving her. “Let me see the rings! Quickly!”

Raven held out her hand, and Fame grabbed it. Courtney hadn’t noticed it when Raven walked in, but it was true that she was wearing a stunning diamond with a platinum band, her manicure actually matching it perfectly now that she was paying attention.

“It’s custom made.” Raven sighed, happiness radiating from her while Raja chuckled.

“You know what they say, happy wife, happy life.”

“Urg. Marry me before you resort to cliches.”

“I fully intend to.” Raja put her arm around her waist, Fame still holding Raven’s hand in her own.

Raven rolled her eyes before she turned her attention to Fame, though the smile didn’t budge from her face.

“Wait until you see Raja’s, Fame.” Raven leaned her head on her fiancée’s shoulder. “At first, she told me she didn’t want a ring-”

Raja shrugged, the argument clearly one that had already been rehashed between them.

“But I told her, I told her that if I’m getting a ring, so is she. I can’t have anyone thinking she isn’t taken.”

“Anyone who has been online knows she’s not.” Fame smiled. “So, any big plans for the wedding yet?”

“Oh I’ve barely even thought about it,” Raven said with a wink, everything about her very clearly telling that she was lying through her teeth.

Fame laughed loudly. “Get out of here you two-” She waved her hand, clearly dismissing them. “Actually-” Fame paused. “Raja, take the day off.”

“But what about the work-”

“That can wait.” Fame touched Raja’s elbow. “This is the first time you’ve gotten engaged.”

“You mean only time she’s getting engaged.” Raven threw her hair over her shoulder, leaving the office while Raja hung back to gather her things.

“Call that journalist who wanted that interview and tell them I need an extra 10 minutes.”

“Yes Miss!”

Fame turns to leave.”Oh, and Courtney?”

“Yes Miss?”

“It’s impolite to stare. That’s all.” Fame went into her office, closing the door.

Courtney’s eyes bulged. Had she been staring? She was just so surprised.

She had no idea that Raja was even gay, and now she found out that she was engaged? To a supermodel? It was thrilling! But the thought that anyone noticed her reaction was so embarrassing. She turned to Violet, hoping for some reassurance, but found no such thing, the brunette glaring at her venomously.

“I am going to kill you,” Violet proclaimed.

***

“Violet?” Max knocked on her door. “Violet are you in there?”

Max had only meant to be a good neighbor when he had grabbed Violet’s package from the reception, the brown box too big for her to carry on her own, but it seemed like she wasn’t home, and now he had the dilemma of what he should do with the box, since he couldn’t just leave.

Max was just about to give up, when the door opened, the sight of Violet in nothing but a cream silk robe, heels and lace underwear greeting him.

“Oh thank God!”

Before Max knew it, Violet had grabbed his hand and pulled him inside.

“I need your help.”

“My help?” Max put the box down. He hadn’t been inside of Violet’s apartment since the housewarming, and nothing had changed except for a set of curtains that Max knew had haphazardly been put up by Katya.

“Which dress should I wear?”

It was then that Max noticed three dresses that had been hung up over the bathroom door.

“Oh.” Max looked at them. He knew Violet had exquisite taste in clothes, the assistant one of his favorite Galactica employees to watch, but seeing her date night options side by side was a pleasure in itself.

“So you’re going to the Vogue Fashion Fund?”

“I am.” Violet slipped out of her robe and hung it up on the door handle. From anyone else, the move could have seemed sexual, but Violet had been on shoots with Max, and had seen with her own eyes how he normally behaved around naked woman, so it wasn’t too weird. Max was pretty sure Violet assumed he was gay, and even though that wasn’t the truth, he wasn’t going to tell her that it was more that he wasn’t interested in anyone period.

“And you’re going with Pearl?”

“She’s picking me up in an hour.” Violet smiled.

Max bit his lip. He knew that Violet liked Pearl, really liked Pearl.

It was written all over her entire face every time she looked at the blonde, how she would blush and stammer; how shy she could get. Pearl was the only one Max knew who could make Violet lose the air of pleasant politeness, and he was pretty sure that Pearl had no idea about her power.

Max loved Pearl with all his heart, he would go through fire for her, but Pearl wasn’t a good person when it came to how she treated women.

Max had seen Pearl parade girl after girl around, had seen model after model getting their heart broken, how Pearl could treat a girl like a queen one day and completely ignore her the next.

But if Pearl had invited Violet out, that had to mean something, even if Max wasn’t sure what.

“So, which one do you like?” Violet held two of the dresses up, one of them a silver knee length number with a fitted skirt, while the other was a delightful light pink with long sleeves and flowy details.

Max wanted to tell Violet how Pearl could also be, but as he looked at her face, as he saw the genuine enthusiasm, he just couldn’t do it.

“What about the silver?”

“You think?” Violet took it down from the door and slipped into it, the dress fitting her like a glove.

“You look stunning.” Max walked behind her, grabbing the zipper and zipping her up.

Violet was old enough to make her own mistakes, and maybe, just maybe Violet was what Pearl needed.

***

“Violet, come on! We’re going to be late, the car is waiting!” Pearl checked her bag one last time. Phones, press badges, wallet and camera.

Pearl had already made a deal with one of her photographer friends and brought some of his red carpet pictures, so she didn’t have to worry about that, but a good journalist never went anywhere without the proper equipment, and there wasn’t much Pearl actually excelled at.

“Violet!” Pearl knocked again, harder this time. “Violet! Now!”

Pearl was beyond excited to take Violet on a night out. Fashion Fund tickets weren’t exactly easy to come by, so when one had dumped into her lap, she knew exactly who she had wanted as her plus one.

Pearl loved watching Violet enjoy fashion, the way her eyes lit up, the way she smiled, the way it was the only thing she could go on and on about.

Pearl wanted to share that with Violet, and if this meant that Violet would finally see her as someone who was taking her seriously, that would only be a bonus.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Pearl was just about to make a sex joke, when Violet opened the door, and Pearl felt the breath get knocked from her lungs.

Viole was absolutely beautiful, a vision in pale purple and sparkling silver. Her long black hair was artfully curled, a single hair clip holding the locks away from her face. Her usual light pink lipstick was replaced with a daring red, and Pearl wanted to kiss her

“I can’t really run in these.” Violet gestured to her shoes, her usual black Louboutins exchanged with a silver Jimmy Choo. “Do I look okay?”

Violet stopped in front of Pearl, turning around to show off her outfit.

Pearl nodded, still slightly lost for words.

“Oh thank God.” Violet smiled, clearly relieved. “I was worried I’d be too casual or too formal, but judging from the gown you have on.” Violet grabbed her jacket from the hook on the door and pulled it on, taking a step out of the door which made Pearl take one back.

“You, umh, you look really beautiful…” Violet blushed and Pearl laughed, Violet’s insecurity and her quick, almost tumbling way of talking endlessly entertaining.

Pearl kissed Violet’s cheek, careful not to smudge her lipstick.

“Seems like I’ll be the luckiest girl at the party,” Pearl smiled.

“Why?”

“Because I’ll have you as my date.”

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #lesbian au #fashion au #pearlet #trixya #raja x raven #violet chachki #katya zamolodchikova #trixie mattel #courtney act #alaska thunderfuck #raven #raja gemini #miss fame #max malanaphy #pearl liaison

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ratchedspeach · 4 years

Note

Can you write a one shot about Cat and Jade being cute and in love?

Oh who am I to say no to this! Get ready for fluff with a lil bit of angst (cause I’m still me teehee) … In which Cat hates studying, and Jade has had way too much coffee

La Lune et Les Etoiles

In which Jade is an insanely passionate student, and Cat is not.

She might be the only person Cat knew that loves finals week. Jade sat cross legged on a chair, her purple-streaked curls pulled into a messy ponytail and her eyes trained on the novella La Salle de Bain by Jean-Philippe Toussaint. She had dragged Cat there to help her do research for their French final, which Cat had agreed to after enough threats to her immediate bodily safety from her morbid but mostly harmless friend. Cat hated finals - hated school in general, really, which only made her hate being in the Hollywood Arts High School’s surprisingly dull library past 1:00 in the morning on a Friday night that much more.

“Are you planning on actually reading it?” Jade inquired, taking a sip from her fourth cup of coffee since they’d been there, but never looking up from her own book.

Cat looked at the book in her own hands - Dans La Café de la Jeunesse Perdue by Patrick Modiano. They were comparing the dichotomy of French gender roles throughout the decades by analyzing famous philosophic, literary works. It had been Jade’s idea, obviously, and Cat had only gone along when she’d finally promised that she would write the paper on her own if she would agree to at least help with research.

“It’s in French.” Cat pouted, bending the corners of a few delicate pieces of paper with her index finger.

That got Jades attention. She peaked her eyes out from behind her already half-finished book, quirking an eyebrow. “So?”

“I speak English.”

“Cat, the project is for our French class.” Jade addressed, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach when she realized she knew exactly where this conversation was going.

Cat nodded, adding an airy “yeah.”

“We ... It’s supposed to be in French.” Jade folded the corner of her page down before placing the book on the desk separating the two of them. “Can you ... do you not ... Cat, please tell me you can actually speak - oh forget it.” She placated, bringing her thumb and index finger to clamp down on the bridge of her nose.

“I’m sorry,” Cat spilled, “I tried to tell you that I wasn’t very good at this.”

“Cat,” Jade cautioned, her eyes burning with an amalgam of frustration, and what Cat could only explain as ... humor...? “this is an upper level literature course. One of the requirements is speaking French. How did you even get in!?”

It earned them a hush from the librarian, which earned her Jade’s loudest, most melodramatic groan. This was all just getting to be a little too cliche for her. She had agreed to be partners with the red head because out of everyone in that class, she was the person that Jade hated the least. She had known that it would mean doing the bulk of the work - not because she thought Cat wasn’t smart; as a matter of fact when she applied herself, Jade was often shocked at what the girl had to say. No, rather she knew because she had seen Cat’s performance throughout the semester, thus knew how much she struggled with the language. She just ... hadn’t realized the full extent of it.

Cat bit her lip, averting her own gaze from the brooding girl across from her. “You sounded excited when I said I was gonna be in it. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Okay, first of all, nothing excites me.” Jade griped, ignoring the color that rose in her pale cheeks. “And second of all, I wouldn’t have told you to take it if I knew you couldn’t actually speak French!”

Cat’s usually sunny features drew into a childish glower. “You were excited.”

“Excitement is for man children.”

“Sikowitz is always excited.”

“Point and case.” She gloated with a smirk.

Jade could hold a grudge against anyone, but when she harrumphed softly, crossing her pink sweater adorned arms across of her stomach, her smiled tugged a little harder at the corners of her mouth. There was no use being angry with Cat - it was like trying to be upset with rain for falling - it didn’t know better, and neither did she.

“Look, it’s fine.” Jade sighed, rolling her eyes and pulling her hair out of the ponytail. “I’ll do the project, and Mme. Chopain doesn’t need to know a thing. I promise.”

Jade tossed her now loose curls over her left shoulder, bringing her fingers to massage the roots of her hair and tussle them softly. Cat watched, her warm caramel eyes fixed on they way her fingers skillfully moved through her dark locks. It did not go unnoticed by the goth, who felt something in her stomach flutter. She took a deep breath, pulling her fingers out of her hair and bringing both hands to cup her now lukewarm coffee mug. The library had a small vending machine which dispensed one dollar cups of the stuff, and while it wasn’t to the standard of the countless artisanal shops in the LA area, it was enough to keep her wired, and that’s all Jade really cared about.

“Thank you.” Cat intoned, the last of her pout melting away back into a sheepish smile.

Jade watched the redhead, a flash of something warm streaking through her eyes before they settled into her usual, deliberate glare. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment as though she were about to say something, before shrugging slightly and burying her nose back in the text.

“What?” Cat queried, leaning in across the desk and placing her chin gently on her folded arms.

Jade bristled slightly. “Nothing.” She snapped. “I’m just stressed now, that’s all.”

The other girl studied her for a moment, because it wasn’t anger she sensed in her. It was … something else. Cat worried her bottom lip between her teeth, continuing to examine Jade, who had noticed her interested, which only made the color in her cheeks rise further.

“You’re being weird.” Cat noticed airily, twisting a few pieces of hair between her fingers.

Jade’s brow furrowed. “I am not!” She exclaimed, earning her another shush from the after-hours librarian. “Shush me again, and I’ll strangle you with your dollar store wig!”

They were kicked out of the library immediately, much to Cat’s delight. The Hollywood Arts parking lot stretched drearily in front of them - a fresh blanket of mist causing it to glint in the early morning light. Cat checked her pear phone for the time. 3:13 a.m. She rubbed at her eyes before glancing at Jade, who was rummaging through her cluttered backpack for the keys to her yellow VW Bug (It would never not make Cat giggle a little to see the otherwise monochrome girl in her all-too vibrant, all-too girlie car).

“I can drive you home if you want.” Cat offered as Jade threw her bag on the ground in a fit of frustration and what she could only assume was coffee-induced adrenaline.

Jade didn’t respond. It was now her turn to press the palms of either hand to her eyes, heaving a low sigh as she sat on the curb, her legs stretched onto the empty street. Cat bit the inside of her cheek, uncertain of whether that was supposed to be a yes or a get the hell out of here. She chose to assume the former, mimicking the other girl’s movement, and sitting delicately next to her. Jade shifted slightly as she felt her friends hip graze her own when she sat down.

Cat noticed.

“Planning on sleeping here?” She asked, only half joking, before adding, “I think my cot is still in the attic.”

Jade smiled softly. “Well I can’t sleep.” She admonished, pulling her hair back into the ponytail she had started the night in. “Too much coffee. So I might as well…”

“What?”

Jade shrugged, but didn’t respond, because honestly, she wasn’t sure. She was too tired to study, and too wired on black coffee to sleep. She hadn’t planned on getting kicked out of the library. Come to think of it, she hadn’t exactly planned on doing the work of a two-person AP French Lit exam all on her own. Jade felt the tension in her chest grow as her breath hitching dangerously in her throat, and apparently so did Cat, because before she could process what was happening, the redhead was pulling her head onto her shoulder, stroking the goth’s hair, and apologizing.

“I should’ve told you I couldn’t speak French.” Cat whispered.

She smelled like a mix of peppermint and lavender, and it made whatever anxiety was bubbling in Jade’s stomach almost completely disappear. “It’s ok.” She whispered as her breath came back to even. “I should’ve known better than to think you did.”

Cat giggled, and Jade matched her, pulling her head off of her shoulder to meet her gaze. Their laughs dissipated into a heavy silence. Cat watched as Jade’s smile fell into an uncertain glower, the light behind her eyes glinting with a mixture of deviance and … could that be … Is she scared? Cat thought, before something flared in her mind.Oh shit. Am I? Cat thought she should look away - thought that holding the gaze of her fickle friend could only lead to empty, but still terrifying threats of violence. She knew Jade.

Or … so she thought.

It caught her completely off-guard, therefore, when what came from Jade’s lips wasn’t incitements of bodily harm, when it wasn’t anything coming from them at all, but when it was just … her lips - soft, and gentle, and tasting of rose-tinted lip balm. Cat’s eyes went wide for a moment before a flood of warmth starting from her mouth and radiated through her body, and her eyes closed and she just reveled in it. They sat like that for a moment, Cat’s arms coming across Jade’s shoulders, and Jade’s awkwardly at her side as though she still wasn’t sure if she was allowed to touch the redhead.

The kiss lasted no more than a minute. Jade was the one to start it and to end it - pulling away with her eyes still closed like she couldn’t believe that she had just … that she …

“Shit.” Jade breathed, alarm sounding through her entire body.

Cat watched her, the fingers of her left hand coming up to touch her now lips in disbelief, wide-eyed, and still warm, and wishing that she could kiss her again. “That was …”

“Shit.”

They looked at each other for a moment longer before a smile pinched the dimples on Cat’s cheeks, and Jade’s heart fluttered desperately. It scared Cat a little to see her so uncertain, because it was the very opposite of the behavior that she had come to expect from the brooding teen. She placed her fingertips on the pavement, allowing them to brush against Jade’s, and watching as her lips pursed into a tentative smile that resembled more of a smirk.

“I didn’t know you were …” Cat trailed off when the dark haired girl shook her head.

“I … didn’t really know either.” She admitted, before adding in flustered babble. “I mean, I knew, I just … I … I hadn’t planned on …”

Jade trailed off, bringing the hand not touching Cat’s to smack her forehead as she continued to fight for the right words. The redhead smiled sheepishly, her chest fluttering as she watched the other girl. The smile fell, though, when she saw the tears rimming her lash line as she desperately tried to blink them away.

“J-Jade…?” Cat pulled her hand fingers to fully lace between her friend’s (if she could still really call her that).

“My parents don’t know.” Jade whispered, sucking in a sharp, shuddered breath.

“Neither do mine.”

“Beck doesn’t know.”

“… oh.” She’d forgotten about him.

They sat in silence for a moment, Jade still holding back tears, and Cat watching her like she might disappear altogether if she so much as blinked. Their fingers stayed entangled, both of them grasping onto the other like it was the only thing grounding them to earth. Jade felt like she was flying as the mixture of angst and utter joy jumbled in the pit of her stomach. She had never thought about what her first kiss with a girl would be like. She had always known that she wanted to have one, but she hadn’t expected it to be so … gentle, so exquisitely delicate and easy. Jade realized that a large part of that had to do with who she was kissing. Cat - all smiles and sunshine and utter bliss. Jade wished it could be simple, wished so desperately that they could just kiss and have it mean nothing more, but she knew it couldn’t be left at just that. Cat, on the other hand, blinded by her positive (dare Jade say … naive?) outlook on the world, was over the moon and nothing more. Jade envied her for that.

“There’s a saying in French,” She changed the subject, eyes still fixed on the empty school lot, “la lune et les etoiles tout ensemble.”

Cat had never heard her speak French, and it took her breath away - the way the words flowed and flickered between her teeth, and the expulsion of breath that perfected her accent.

“What does it mean?” She asked blithely.

Jade looked at her, eyes ablaze with too many different things for Cat to comprehend. She wondered how someone could feel so many things at once, how she could fit everything into her slender frame.

“The moon and stars all in one.” Jade smiled faintly, perhaps even a little sadly, before placing her head once more on the other girl’s shoulder.

Cat didn’t know how to respond, so she didn’t, welcoming the contact and the warmth that once more radiated throughout her body. They sat like that until dawn, watching the stars fade into the glow of morning, and letting the rest of the world slip away.

At least for a little while.

#you don't know me #nat writes #cat valetine #jade west #victorious #one shot #fanfic #fluff #angst #cade #cat/jade #i loved writing thus #might turn it into a larger fic tbh

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starblazerm31 · 4 years

Note

For the new 25 lore asks! ONE, THREE, & SIXTEEN for both!

Thank you so much for the ask! ❤️

ONE| Will your OC and their LI ever have kids? If yes, describe their children! Looks, personality, what traits they draw from which parent or whether they would adopt.

w/Julian: They have two kids: Nora and Rylen. They are 22 months apart from each other. Both of them have curly auburn hair like Julian, but they did inherit Azalea's premature greying. So they enchant their hair like their mother.

Nora (older)

Height: 6'

Pronouns: She/Her

Hair: very long; curly auburn that fades into blonde. Hangs below her rear. Usually tied back into a loose ponytail.

Eyes: Royal Blue/Gold

Features: Has her father's impressive nose. Swimmer's build. Medium skin, like Azalea.

She wears a brown vest with gold trim and brown capri pants. She wears gold slip-on shoes. She likes to get into scrapes like Julian, but she is acrobatic like Azalea, so she can squiggle out of those scrapes with remarkable ease. She works at the local circus as a magician/acrobat.

Rylen (younger)

Height: 5'8"

Pronouns: He/Him

Hair: short; slightly longer than his father's, hanging just below his ears. Curly auburn that fades into hunter green.

Eyes: Grey

Features: smaller, round nose like Azalea. Medium skin tone.

He is quiet and enjoys reading books. He wears loose-fitting shirts with either a slate blue vest or a deep green coat. He wears black pants and brown knee-high boots. He is actually quite impressive with magic, but like Azalea, he doesn't say much about it. He is training with his father to be a doctor.

w/Lucio: They also have two kids: Darien and Etoile. They are two years apart. They also inherit Azalea's greying hair, but they choose not to enchant it because they both like the blonde that fades into silver.

Darien (older)

Height: 5'9"

Pronouns: He/Him

Hair: short; blonde roots that fade into silver at the ends. He lets it hang loose. (Think Masquerade Lucio)

Eyes: Royal Blue

Features: spitting image of Lucio, but has medium skin like Azalea. Wears glasses.

Darien is very humble like Azalea. He is the type who will get lost in a good book and look up to realize that he's spent a whole day reading. He also likes to play the drums. He usually wears a white button-up shirt with a lavender vest. The vest has various good-luck symbols stitched into the edges, and he wears a vervain boutonnière. He sports leaf-green pants and knee-high brown boots. He runs the magic shop when he is old enough, and acquires quite a few admirers who like to watch him mix potions through the shop windows. "Have you seen that boy who runs the shop?! He's so dreamy!!" He doesn't let it go to his head, though. He has eyes for only one girl...

Etoile (younger)

Height: 5'6"

Pronouns: She/Her

Hair: Long; blonde roots that fade into silver at the ends. She usually has it swept back into a long braid.

Eyes: Royal Blue

Features: Etoile is a lovely mixture between Lucio and Azalea. She's got Lucio's face shape, but Azalea's nose and mouth.

She is headstrong, loud, proud, and bulletproof like her father. She can't stay cooped up in one place for very long. She has to go out and explore. She typically wears a white blouse covered with a black corset. She also sports a long black coat with gold embroidery, black pants, and black high-heeled thigh-high boots. She gets lots of attractive attention from others and relishes it.

She and Asra have three children: Celestia, Velian, and Aries (adopted).

Celestia (oldest)

Height: 5'7"

Pronouns: She/Her

Hair: Long; curly and white like Asra with pink lowlights. Typically wears it loose, but also pins the sides back with barrettes.

Eyes: Red like Imalia

Features: Asra's face shape and nose, but Imalia's strong eyebrows and thinner mouth. Slight cleft in her chin. Olive skin tone like Asra.

Celestia also goes by "Lessie" or "Tia." Her facial features resemble Asra very strongly, but she has a strong jaw like Imalia. She is lively and extroverted. She is very open and honest, and very genuine. However, she has her mother's temper and can go from a fairy princess to pale-haired demon in a heartbeat. She likes to wear fashionable yet comfortable clothing. She typically wears a pink long-sleeved blouse with a powder blue bodice. She favors knee-length frilly skirts, usually in white or pale pink. She wears black slip-on shoes, but will also go barefoot a lot. She is the object of Darien/Rylen’s affections.

Velian (middle)

Height: 6'1"

Pronouns: He/Him

Hair: short and curly like Asra, but light brown like Imalia. It stays messy, and that's how he likes it.

Eyes: Lavender like Asra.

Features: Velian is a big, broad guy. He takes after Imalia's father as far as his body. He has a strong jawline, high cheek bones, and a slightly upturned nose (like Imalia). Olive skin tone like his father, but slightly lighter.

He is a mad magical scientist like his mother, but respects magic and what it can do, good and bad. He loves to help Aisha and Salim with whatever they are working on at the moment and LOVES music. He is a tinkerer and enjoys creating new and unique musical instruments. He loves to create carnival-style musical instruments that require carts to be moved around. (think Wintergatan's Marble Machine). He also sports a lute that can double as a mace.

Aries (youngest; adopted)

Height: 5'4"

Pronouns: They/Them

Hair: Shoulder length; sleek black with white forelocks, usually tied into a low ponytail, or a wolf knot.

Eyes: Vivid green

Features: They have a long, slender face with shallow cheek-bones. They have a hawk nose and very full lips. Light skin tone.

Aries is dual-sexed; meaning all the parts. They were a Vesuvian orphan, but it was clear that they weren't born in Vesuvia. Imalia suspects that Aries has a more magical parentage, but it's very hard to tell exactly what (spoiler: they are half-fae). Aries is a child of nature and loves going on trips with their parents. Aries typically wears a very loose tunic that is half black and half white. They wear either black or brown pants with ankle-high brown shoes. Etoile doesn’t want to admit it, but she is fascinated by Aries and wants to get much closer to them.

THREE| Does your apprentice have a close bond with one of the Major Arcana spirits? Which one? What about that Major Arcana drew your character to them or drew them to your character?

The Fool. She was a well of endless possibility and potential. She wasn't afraid to try new things, she had an innocent nature to her, and was quite creative in her magic use. She was a beacon in the Magical Realms, and The Fool loved interacting with her. When the deal was made to give her The Fool's body, The Fool actually agreed wholeheartedly. All that beauty and innocence and talent needed to continue on.

The Empress. Imalia's family has always been vehement about continuing their bloodline because the family has been full of exceptional magic users for hundreds of years. Even though Imalia herself became quite annoyed and at times even resentful of this, there was always a part of her that desperately wanted to be a mother. She loved the bond she had shared with her father. She wanted that kind of bond with her own children. She was already a rather maternal person since she got true joy and pleasure out of teaching others and nurturing their minds. She rarely interacts with The Empress herself, but there are times she hears her voice.

SIXTEEN| Where do your apprentice and their LI live? What is their home like? Big? Small? Who did the decorating?

w/Julian: They live in the magic shop until they have Nora. Then they upgrade to a nicer two-story house across the canal in the Center City. It's well-lit with plenty of windows and gauzy curtains. There are three bedrooms (the already knew they were going to have another child), two bathrooms, a large kitchen, a living/sitting room, and two studies; one for Azalea and her magic, and one for Julian and his medicine. There is also a playroom for Nora and Rylen, which eventually becomes Rylen's study. On the second floor there is a small balcony that doubles as a herb garden. Azalea did most of the decorating since Julian didn't have much taste as far as interior design. There are light catchers hanging from most of the windows, colorful fabrics draped over most of the furniture, fairy lights in the bedrooms.

w/Lucio: Lucio lived with Azalea in the shop for a short while until Nadia gifted them with a very nice estate near the Temple District. Nadia knew Lucio's taste and was still very grateful to Azalea for taking him off of her hands in the first place. The property is quite expansive with room for most of Lucio's pets, and a very nice house for the servants. The main house itself is three stories with many guest rooms, studies, lavish bathrooms, and an impressive master bedroom. The kitchen is open and well-lit, and Azalea will insist on helping the servants with meals. The interior decorating is a happy mixture between Lucio's and Azalea's individual tastes. Rich red curtains pulled open to allow in light with glittering light catchers, lots of gold trim on the furniture, and various vivid colors throughout the house. Lucio has his own trophy room to display his hunting trophies, Azalea has a study to research and practice magic, and an entire room dedicated to wardrobe. There is also a greenhouse for Azalea's magical herbs. The main entry to the house has moonflower vines growing around the door.

Imalia and Asra live in her family estate, at the southernmost point of the Center City.

It is three stories with a basement/wine cellar. The interior is a mixture of light and dark; the hallways and entry room are lit with candelabras. But the rooms themselves have high windows, each one decorated with stained glass at the top. There are many rooms in the estate, but most are unused/storage. The used rooms are: Imalia/Asra's study (a large room with floor to ceiling bookshelves on all of the walls, littered with various tables covered in books, scrolls, artifacts, and scientific/magical apparatus), Imalia/Asra's bedroom (large mostly sparse room with a grand canopy bed, vanity, and closet), the kitchen (more tall than spacious, with eight foot tall mahogany cabinets, prep table, and two stoves), Ben and Avery's rooms, a greenhouse, and three impressive bathrooms. Before Asra moved in, the house was mostly decorated in browns, reds, and golds. All of the furniture is dark mahogany, as is the wood trim around the house. The curtains were usually red or plum, and the furniture had red velvet upholstery. When Asra moved in, more colors began to splash the scenery. The furniture became draped in vivid lively colors, the windows began to have various crystals littering the sills, large plush lounging pillows appeared, and more home carved trinkets became a frequent decoration. After a while, Muriel began to stay at the estate more often when he got involved with Avery, so the presence of homemade charms and wards became a typical sight. Imalia didn't mind at all. In fact, more life in the estate made it seem less dreary and completely drove away the bad memories of her youth.

#azalea nevra #imalia gabriev #apprentice asks #the arcana asks #apprentice azalea #master imalia #azalea x julian #azalea x lucio #imalia x asra

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flowerflamestars · 5 years

Text

Ivy Moon: Part Five

Cassian had many expectations about getting to see Nesta work.

He was almost used to the ease with which she used her power. Constant- like breathing- so casual it couldn’t bely the astonishing depth of her strength. He also knew, from Rhys and Feyre, that Nesta was one of the best in the world at what she did.

So he hadn’t expected her to find the object that cursed him, and start laughing.

Nesta listed toward the toward the stone wall, trying to catch her breath.

“Nesta- what”-

She waved a hand at him, and the tower room before them was engulfed in a circle of flame. Not the rainbow of colors Nesta had shown him before, but white hot. Cleansing fire.

“Stay here,” She called, and jumped through the flames like parting a curtain.

—-

Nesta was glad not just that the potency of her fire could cage in a curse- but that through the arcing flames, even with wolf eyes, Cassian might miss how badly her hands were shaking.

Because she was right.

And it was more- more than she’d dreamed of or hoped for, imagined or wanted. More than Cassian’s heartbeat under her teeth or his perfect laugh meeting Amren.

It was magic.

At the very middle of a round wooden table, centered in spelled tower, a globe of gold sat.

Nesta knew at the touch of bare skin, a spindle would extend to draw blood.

But like this, it would have fit in the palm of her hand. A perfect sphere, the surface a mad tangle of roses and moons, stars and blossoms that seemed to shift if she stared too long. Within the fire she could hear it’s song.

Ancient and fae, it promised everything: devotion, love, partnership.

Nesta stripped off her jacket and threw it over the table. Muffled, it was nothing to pick up, contained in the leather.

She bundled it in her arms, fighting down another delighted laugh, and vanished the fire.

—-

Rationally, Cassian knew Nesta had been inside the circle flame for seconds, minutes at most.

That this was what she did. And above all else, that this witch was dangerous. But he couldn’t see anything, and it was making him crazy. Wolf stretched beneath his skin, agitated and unhappy. Even his magic- not keyed to curses, or anything like them- seemed to say danger, danger.

And then the flames vanished and Nesta stepped through, stripped down to an incredibly distracting tank top and carrying a jacket wrapped bundle.

“Got it,” She said, with a smile that was almost eerily pointed.

Nesta started back down the stairs before he could reply. Cassian found himself tripping behind her, eyes unerringly drawn to the pale curve of her shoulders, the nape of her neck.

“What is it?” Cassian asked, when it became clear Nesta wasn’t going to say anything.

They were crossing back through the main floor of the library, lights slowly fading to extinguish behind them. Nesta stopped in the doorway to pat the wall, as if in silent thank you, before replying.

“Cursed spindle,” She said, too casual. “I think it called you. You picked it up, got stabbed, and your blood keyed the curse.”

Nesta strode forward into the antechamber and finally stopped, glowing in the chandeliers soft light. Cassian slid to her side, and the look she glanced over him was pure and untempered mischief.

What the hell?

“Where,” Nesta asked, head tilted like a predator, “Does the third door lead?”

Cassian blinked. He didn’t have a fucking clue what was going on, but his wolf couldn’t resist even a bit of the challenge in her stance. “Underground garage? Rhys’ dad loved cars.”

“Perfect,” Nesta replied, and stalked forward.

If the library castle itself was a heart wrenching mix of elegant and ancient, the garage was the same, amped to an entirely different level. Winding steel stairs led them down, lit in neon light. White slowly melted through the color spectrum to blinding, electric pink before they reached the floor.

Nesta took one look and snorted.

A cave overhead, rough hewn and dark. Bellow, gleaming pavement interrupted only by inset white lights, and rows of cars. The light flared as Nesta walked forward, framing the drive out in bands of throbbing white.

“Rhys is seriously never going to drive any of these cars?” Nesta asked.

“Most likely never,” Cassian said, rueful. Something about the hunger in her gaze, the sharpness of her movements was making the blood pound in his veins. His wolf liked that- so damn much.

Nesta danced down one row of cars, and then another, quick steps ringing in the cavern.

Cassian tried very hard not to look like he was literally a wolf, slavering at her heels.

Finally, she stopped in front of a small car, silver gleaming in the neon light. Nesta laid a single hand on the hood, ignition starting at her touch. He bit back a laugh at the utterly pleased look on her face.

She dropped the bundle in her arms on the hood, a strangely melodious thunk echoing.

“So we’re stealing a car,” Cassian drawled, “And you’re enchanting it?”

She was circling the vehicle, magic at a low hum. “Exactly,” Nesta said, voice low. She tapped each wheel, leaving a strange sparkle in the air, before sliding into the drivers seat. The jacket wrapped magical object disappeared, like she’d spelled it to follow her.

Cassian took a deep breath, and did the same.

In the small space, there was no escaping her scent- his touch lingering on her skin, intertwined with her magic and aggression, overlaid with gasoline.

“Okay,” Nesta began, pulling out onto the dark drive out of the cavern, “I can destroy the cursed object.” The way she said it made his heart stutter.

“But?”

She smiled, realer and softer. “But it’ll be bloody and very time consuming. I know someone who can take care of it quickly, and will enjoy the process perhaps even more.”

They emerged into the not quite right, incredibly beautiful fall light of the castle drive. On a road properly, Nesta sped up, the engine purring. Cassian felt just as combustible.

“I’ll do it myself if you want,” Nesta offered, eyes flitting over his face, “But it’ll be faster this way.”

Cassian made himself breathe normally. There was no question to whether he trusted Nesta, but he wanted answers. And the sooner the curse was handled- well, court was the wrong word, but date didn’t fit either.

He wanted to know her, to keep getting to know her, without the curse pulling them together. Without magic blurring every boundary, Cassian wanted to find normal reasons to earn sleeping at her side. To return to the library, to bring her that horrifying coffee at work, to be a real part of her life.

The words caught in his throat, and Cassian could only nod.

But Nesta- because she was Nesta- understood well enough. “Okay,” She repeated. “Do you know where the wards end?’

Easy- it was always so easy with her, Nesta’s words grounded him again. “The closest?” Cassian said, pushing his hair from his face, “About a mile east.”

Nesta nodded, and the world blurred.

Without even a thud, or a bump in momentum, the car was suddenly on a different road altogether. They sped the last few feet over the wards, and the world outside became bright and bluer. No longer all golden and magic, but real and still lovely forest, half turned toward winter.

“What the fuck?” Cassian spluttered before he could stop himself, choking out a laugh.

Nesta grinned back. “Journey spell,” She said, “All roads are one.”

He followed her out of the car, colder air here blowing through the trees. The bundle had reappeared at Nesta’s feet. If she felt the cold on her bare skin, Nesta didn’t flinch. Cassian had to wonder how much magic she was pulling- unfeeling to the elements like he was before the change.

“Two rules,” Nesta said, pulling a knife from somewhere, that keened greeting in her hand. “Do not say thank you, no matter what. And use full names, always.”

It clicked in Cassian’s head the same moment Nesta sliced cleanly down her palm.

“You’re summoning a faerie?”

Nesta waved her bleeding hand in the air. By some old magic, the blood remained, an outline forming. “Something like that,” She agreed, “It’s polite to make a door.”

And a door it was- blood smeared lines coming together. Until the moment it all locked in place, chiming, and a hole in the world tore. Through it, Cassian could see vivid forest, gnarled and ancient. A lavender lake lapped gently under moonlight.

This was faerie.

On soundless steps, Nesta returned to his side. “Ready?” It was a challenge again, enough to make him bold.

Cassian reached for Nesta’s bleeding hand. Meeting her eyes steadily, even as he felt the blush starting on his face, Cassian healed her again- just like he had that first night. But this time, he licked away the blood.

The soft sigh that fell from her mouth made Cassian shudder. His wolf was keening.

Nesta let out a long breath, slowly pulling back her hand and stepping away.

From around her neck, the chain pale beside the warm gold of the amber Nesta had yet to take off, she pulled another necklace. It hadn’t been there a moment before, and pooled in her hand like moonlight.

At it’s end a small horn hung- bone bound in silver and gold. A hunters horn, but the magic felt like the Archerons home. Old and powerful, protective and enchanting. Nesta sketched one more long look over Cassian, before she raised it to her lips and blew.

Like it knew what she had called, the doorway shuddered, and the landscape shifted.

Cassian was painfully alert at the sight of that green, luminous land.

At first he thought it was the false moons hanging in the sky- three phases all in one- but the man striding toward Nesta really was that pale. White, white, skin. Huge grey eyes that could swallow the sky, hair the silver color of true starlight.

It wasn’t until he stepped through the doorway- fearless, grinning- that Cassian realized he knew that face.

Those were Nesta’s eyes. Her dangerous cheekbones, sharp features. The same face entirely, but sharpened further with masculinity. More alike than Nesta looked like her own siblings.

If not for the undeniable glow of immortality, the knife blade ears that marked this man as fae.

The smile on his face grew even more familiar as he strode straight to Nesta, swooping down to kiss both her cheeks. Cassian was going to rattle out of his own skin.

“Darling,” The faery said, ageless voice accentless and silken. “How fairs the heir of my heart?”

“Gwyn,” Nesta began, and stopped when the faery made a low noise.

“That’s not what you used to call me.” It was odd to hear such a rambunctious tone come out of that familiar but not mouth. He was teasing, after he’d been called from another world and arrived fully armed.

“Papa,” Nesta sighed, half a laugh. “I need your help.”

“Of course! But first,” He pivoted, tossing a long arm over Nesta’s shoulders and turning them both, “Introduce me to your mate.”

Mate.

Mate, mate, mate. With a great horrible shudder, Cassian’s heart briefly stopped in his chest. Did she know? He hadn’t thought of a way to tell her yet- felt like an ass beyond measure if this was how Nesta found out Cassian belonged to her.

But Nesta only briefly closed her eyes, sighing. When she found Cassian’s gaze, whatever apprehension he felt melted with the soft amusement twisting her mouth.

“Papa, meet Cassian Leandro Aguilar.” Her head tilted with the words, taking in Cassian’s surely blushing face like she wanted to eat him alive.

The fae man strode forward to grab Cassian’s hand in an enthusiastic grip. “Ah, a wolf!” He said, eyes sparkling, “I knew a hunters heart was always for my girl. Be welcome, Cassian Leandro Aquilar.”

He inclined his head, regal as any monarch.

Nesta, visibly smirking, stepped closer to Cassian’s side. With a possessive sweep up his arm that did nothing- absolutely nothing - to calm him down, she said, “This is my great grandfather, Gywnn Ap Nudd, Lord of the Wild Hunt.”

Fighting, and probably failing to keep the thousand questions he was thinking off his face, Cassian replied with the traditional fey words. “Well met, Gywnn Ap Nudd, Hunter’s Lord.”

With a laugh that sounded like thunder booming, Gywnn clapped Cassian on the back, hard enough he was pushed forward.

Nesta was definitely trying not to grin.

Pleased, and strangely looking like he was growing taller by the minute, the faery turned to his granddaughter. “How may I aid, dear heart? I know you didn’t call me to meet your lover, though you should have.”

His voice was like a bonfire, warm and laughing.

Nesta waved the knife in her hand, “You would have met him at Feyre’s wedding.”

“Ach, bad form to upstage your little sister!”

Cassian had heard the stories of the Wild Hunt. It was impossible to be supernatural and not know the name. The immortal warriors, who rode the storms lightening. Savage and free, led by the incarnation of every violent dream and raging passion- the Hunter’s Lord.

Who Nesta called Papa.

But what echoed harder through his head was- upstage?

Cassian tuned back into the familial teasing, as Nesta vanished the knife in her hand and thrust the golden globe beneath her grandfathers beautiful face.

If it had seemed like Gywnn was growing taller, he was massive now. He bared sharp teeth at the faintly keening metal. “Which one of you?”

Around them, the smell of ozone and moisture was growing. A burst of sharp wind snapped Nesta’s hair free from it’s tie, the silken mass blowing against Cassian’s shoulder.

“Mine,” Cassian admitted, meeting ageless grey eyes.

Gwynn growled.

“How long has it tried and failed to take root?” As if in response to his utter anger, the spindle popped free from the globe, smelling of Cassian’s blood.

It was still tempting- terrible longing, like every fear and loneliness Cassian had ever felt could be fixed. Promised love, promised home, promised family. He took a deep, shuddered breath, and thought- pack.

Azriel, the brother and best friend who’d never left him. Rhysand, who tried so damn hard. Bright Feyre, terrifying Elain, tiny godlike Amren, rough and tumble Lucien.

And Nesta.

Nesta, Nesta, Nesta- power and beauty and challenge, his anchor to this life that he’d been lucky enough to find.

The siren call faded like it had never existed at all.

“They know better than to touch our bloodline,” Gwynn was still speaking, thunderous. “No matter that your power holds. Seelie filth.”

He turned his head, and Cassian met head on eyes with lighting streaking across their grey skies. “I will hunt,” Gywnn intoned, weighty and old as the bones of the world. With the words, he grew more seemingly human again, but the eyes remained. “Truly, am I sorry this was the push fate chose. A wolf is always welcome in our family.”

Nesta snickered before Cassian could reply.

“Ach, child, you know your uncles are going to want to visit now and run with a pack once more.” Gwynn told her.

Right- faery lord grandfather, faery uncles? Cassian could handle this.

Like she could sense his mounting confusion, Nesta tucked an arm around Cassian’s hip, leaning with the motion. The anxious pressure on his heart melted away, but it remained racing.

“Alaistair is always welcome,” Nesta said, “Finn too, but Oberon has to stop getting in fistfights with Lucien.”

Gywnn laughed again, and a little more of the horror dissipated. “Friendly fistfights,” He insisted, waving a hand. “And I’ve heard the son of oak will have backup these days, when his inability to resist mischief gets the better of him.”

Nesta only raised her eyebrows, “Elain asked me to set him on fire, last yule.”

“But who’s more loyal than a wolf?” Gywnn shot back. “Truly, I am pleased by all of this. It will be a fine hunt.” He looked back and forth between then, the space between their bodies that had ceased to exist, and with a smile that Cassian suddenly saw Feyre in completely, Gywnn swooped forward to kiss them both on the brow.

His lips felt like frost.

But his tone was that of a pleased parent, jolly and proud. “Go with my blessing, Cassian Leandro Aguilar. And with my love, Nesta Nimue Marianne Acheron.”

And he disappeared, the blood door Nesta had carved from the world vanishing as well.

Cassian felt a little like he’d been too close to an explosion. His ears were ringing, white in his vision, thoughts a wild scramble. He knew Nesta was looking up at him, waiting for the questions he needed to ask.

But instead, what came out was, “Your middle name in Nimue?”

Nesta punched him in the chest, playfully. “Fuck off, Leandro,” She said his name perfectly, of course, a loving caress around the syllables. “My mother was an artist and a seer- Elain’s middle name is fucking Guinevere.”

Cassian caught her hand, twisting their fingers together. “Does that make Az Lancelot, or Arthur?”

She huffed in disgust and began tugging him forward, back to the car.

With a single snap of Nesta’s fingers, it started, engine purring to life. Grinning, Nesta waved that same hand out toward the road, like the windshield didn’t exist. It was the only warning Cassian got for the world shuddering with change all around them again- until suddenly they were on a highway.

One he was sure didn’t exist- and hadn’t ever been there before.

“That,” He tried not to gasp, “Is some journey spell.”

Nesta flicked bright eyes over him, “It depends,” She said, punching the car forward fast enough that Cassian felt slightly flattened, “On how much you think you’ll enjoy the trip.”

It was impossible not to smile back.

They made it into another forest, green racing past- because Nesta drove like a god damn demon- before she broke the silence again.

“You can ask,” Nesta said, voice amused.

Cassian dropped the thread he’d been slowly ripping from his jacket, and sighed a breath. He’d didn’t know where to start- he wanted to know everything. About the curse, about how, why, it had effected them both, about her.

He’d wanted to learn her slow. Natural, not to ask for too much.

“You’re an eighth fae?” Cassian asked, softly. It didn’t change anything at all. Aside from a wild urge to laugh at the thought of the Lord of the Wild Hunt meeting Rhysand. He’d need a camera.

Nesta shook her head. “A bit more than a quarter Unseelie. My father was human, but my grandmother fell in love with one of the forest knights.” She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, and said carefully, not looking at him, “Feyre, Elain, all three of us- we’re different than other witches. Maybe because of the mix of bloodlines, or elemental magic, no one knows- but, we get less mortal every year.”

Less mortal- less human, she meant. Less- Cassian’s throat went tight.

“Feyre isn’t going to die on Rhys in a century,” He blurted.

Nesta’s mouth twisted happily. “No,” She replied, “None of us are going anywhere.”

The tightness in his throat grew like swallowed tears. Most witches were closer to human than any other creature. They’d live a century, maybe one and a half- ageless and graceful and magic, but still mortal.

Cassian- a full-blooded wolf dredged in magic, with old lineages on both sides- hadn’t known the touch of time for what felt like an age. Sure, he could die. If someone tried to kill him, if something more powerful hunted him down- but- but he wasn’t going to have to outlive her.

Swallowing hard, Cassian groped for her hand, only to have Nesta meet him halfway.

“Oh fuck,” Cassian realized, “So when Lucien said, our court, he meant?”

Nesta breathed a laugh, her grip on his hand tight. “Lucien was being dramatic. As witches, we cannot be counted among the courts of faery.”

“But you’ve ridden the Hunt’s storms,” Cassian guessed. It was easy to imagine- the wind in her hair and fires burning all around. Women weren’t allowed permanent membership in the Wild Hunt- they were too fierce - but it was impossible not to imagine them taking a death blessed witch as a guest.

She finally looked back at him. “The Wild Hunt brought us home, when my mother died.” Nesta said. “Gywnn is the only father we ever knew. “

Slowly, Cassian traced circles on the back of her hand. The world was still blurring past, but he was almost certain she was letting magic drive for her now.

“So, Uncles?”

Nesta let go of the steering wheel entirely, and twisted her body to face him. “The hunters,” She replied simply, eyes sparking. Like they weren’t the legends and nightmares of the supernatural world. “They helped raise us. Alaistair, Oberon, Alcheon, Finn. Gim Won-Sul - all of the twelve, and some of their husbands.”

Of fucking course.

Of course- Nesta, death walking, magic incarnate- had been raised by the most feared and noble warriors the world knew.

Twelve, always twelve- who’d been culled from their final battlefields and granted immortality to ride with the Hunt, honor and violence and wildness in their blood forevermore.

And Cassian was going to meet them. At his brothers wedding, apparently.

Nesta laughed at the look on his face, and squeezed his hand once more before letting go and taking control of the car again.

Tamping down on the urge to touch her- to make sure this was all really happening- Cassian raked a hand through his hair. “So how does this all tie into the curse?” He asked, carefully, “The spindle was Seelie made?”

Nesta took a vicious turn on the empty round, car skidding with speed. Over the sound of the engine and his own heart, Cassian wouldn’t have heard her if he weren’t a wolf.

“Do you know the story of sleeping beauty?”

What- what? “Um, faery doesn’t get invited to a baptism, girl gets cursed, poor dragon gets hurt,” He ticked off the moments, uncertain, “Creepy sleep kissing? It’s a human story, isn’t it?’

Nesta’s knuckles whitened. “Not the real one.”

Cassian waited, and tried very hard not to think- so I’m the princess? Nesta the knight had a ring to it that was borderline erotic in his head, admittedly.

Finally, she sighed. “Once upon a time, a girl asked a faery to find her true love.” Nesta flicked an irritated hand, “She was a princess, or a witch- either way, young. Young and without any knowledge of the Seelie court.”

Cassian pushed down the image of Nesta holding a sword, and listened.

“Seelies like rules, and playing with mortals,” She continued. Cassian couldn’t help but remember his mothers voice telling him about the Unseelie- too busy taunting monsters and testing themselves. “So the faery asked her, why do you ask for love? Why not riches, or good fortune? And the girl replied, I cannot live without love. So the faery says, so you shall not.”

“And with his promise- the spell was cast. He made a spindle of gold, molten from the fire of a dragon, and told her to prick her finger. The world is a tapestry, the faery explained, and fate are it’s threads.”

“That’s true though,” Cassian interrupted. “Magic users feel the tug of fate all the time.”

Oddly, Nesta flushed. “That is true,” She agreed, “But we’re getting to the important part.”

She switched gears and continued, the road they were on a wild curve now. “Blood is the best binding for any curse. And Seelie cannot lie- but they can omit. He promised her she wouldn’t live without love, so she didn’t. For mortals who touched one of the faery spindles, it usually meant death. But if you were magical, you disappeared- slept, or dreamed, elsewhere, while the Seelie siphoned away the magic that made you.”

That was- “But my magic stayed intact,” Cassian said, “It never changed.”

“Nope,” Nesta said, sharp and happy. And slammed on the brakes.

While Cassian had been unable to look away from her, they’d changed places more. The magic road turned real, Nesta somehow driven them straight to the coastline.

“I thought we could use a detour,” Nesta said, but from the way her eyes wouldn’t stop moving over his face, Cassian didn’t think that was actually what she meant.

He followed her out to the sand, couldn’t help the small chuckle as she plopped right down onto the cold ground, hair whipping in the wind.

The arm she let him tuck around her pale shoulders almost made him laugh outright, sprawling beside her. Cassian took a deep breath, for second all wolf- salt and sea, bracken and wet sand. And in the center of it all Nesta, smelling like fire and his touch.

He bumped her shoulder lightly, grinning. “You brought me to a beach.”

Nesta had to twist to meet his eyes. “You took me to dinner, first.”

Overhead seagulls screamed of an oncoming storm, but the sky had nothing on the light in her eyes. “And you took me dancing, at the only bar in New York where we could actually get drunk.”

Nesta smiled. “I did, didn’t I?” She’d grabbed a handful of his sweater when she turned, the weight of her hand on his stomach some kind of wonderful torture.

Rather than kiss her- because if he kissed her right now, Cassian had no idea if he’d ever stop- he dragged Nesta even closer. She turned her face into his shoulder, laughing.

For a long time, neither spoke.

Nesta seemed completely content to lean on him and watch the ocean. There was no pretending that simple action didn’t make his heart swell in his chest. The third time, however, that the wind flipped her hair in his face, Cassian started idly braiding it back.

“So,” He began, fishtailing together soft locks, “No one who touched the spindle ever found love?”

It seemed infinitely sad, but also- impossible? If rules were set, magic had to obey them. Most of the time, at least.

“Mhmm,” Nesta replied at first. She was nuzzling his neck, her scent so warm and happy that Cassian almost regretted asking. “Not quite.”

She sat back, pulling her legs under her to kneel facing him. “When faeries say true love, they don’t mean what humans or even most magical creatures do.”

The sky rumbled, and the ocean sang its soothing song. But Cassian got it a moment before she said it, pure unadulterated adrenaline crashing through him. A burn- a promise.

“It’s the rarest thing in the world, a soul bond.”

He stopped breathing. With cold, shaking hands, Cassian cupped her face. It took a few tries to get the words out. “Nesta- Nesta- we’re soulmates?”

And she smiled back, not a sharp edge in sight.

“Fuck,” Cassian breathed, uncaring as the wind kicked up around them, as soft drops began to fall. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you that you’re my mate- that I’m- but you’re my soulmate.”

“Soulbonded,” Nesta corrected, with a watery laugh. “With the red string of fate. There’s no life where we haven’t met. Our bones are the same stardust, our magic the same alchemy.”

Cassian stopped pretending the only wetness on his face was the rain.

He’d lost his father and then his mother. His oldest brother hadn’t known he’d existed for his first century of life. His entire pack, ripped from his soul. Had grown up close enough to humans to know what fear looked like on their faces, and for a long time, fought alongside his brother just to have a safe place in the world.

But he had a soulmate.

Cassian lurched forward until his forehead touched Nesta’s. He didn’t have the words for what he was feeling, only that he was so god damn lucky. The tears were coming in earnest, silent and embarrassing, but Nesta held him tight as the storm crashed in.

Finally, saltwater on her lips, Nesta murmured. “Precioso lobo.” His heart wasn’t made to contain this much happiness. “Do you know I always hated dating? It was always too much, or not enough.”

Cassian laughed, low and abbreviated. “And left a trail of broken hearts behind you, probably.”

“I’m sorry,” Nesta shot back, close and dripping and perfect, “There is no way in hell you learned to dance like that without many partners.”

He laughed for real that time, the noise too big for the precious space between them. “That’s true,” Cassian admitted, “But I started learning from my mom.”

The light in Nesta’s eyes flared, wicked. “That makes sense,” She said, utterly serious before sliding into a laugh, “Since she taught me to speak Spanish when I was four.”

“Oh my god,” Cassian grumbled. He was too happy to be truly embarrassed, but some part of him was. That explained entirely why Nesta’s accent reached right out for his heartstrings and pulled.

He buried his face in her neck.

Slowly, Nesta’s hands reached to card through his hair, hesitant. “I think,” She said, voice nearly swallowed by the ocean, “She wanted to make sure that when I said what mattered, it would feel real.”

Nesta was more than real- a dream, a gift. But Cassian thought of every word he wanted to give her- love, love, love; mi vida, mi corazon, the best parts of himself.

The rain began to pour down, dripping from Nesta’s face onto his.

He pulled back to meet her eyes. “Fate was always on our side.”

She breathed half a laugh. “Always is,” Nesta purred, before jumping to her feet.

And then she was running through the downpour, down the beach and back to car. It took half a second to rise and follow, her laugh cutting through the thunder as Cassian gave chase.

She cheated of course, magically traveling ahead when he got too close.

But when Cassian slid into the car to find her laughing- soaking wet, beautiful- it didn’t matter.

He had Nesta Acheron by his side, and he’d remain there for the rest of his life.

@bon-bon-salvatore @strangeenemy @sannelovesreading @maddieimhot @ladyvanserra @rhysand-darling @empress-ofbloodshed @highfaenesta @marianaftm @illyrianinterrasen @tntwme @the-smoldering-illyrian-beauty @jahelyden @sjmasstrash @sunsummoner @rairrai @rhysanoodle @a-trifling-matter @eastside-divebar @skychild29 @happy-smiling-things @missanniewhimsy @abillionlittlepieces @poisonous00 @macomafastraash @vampwitchel @symwinter @acotarfanfic @rapunzel1523 @the-regal-warrior @wolffrising @tswaney17 @they-call-me-cuatro @queenofillea1 @neverlandoftimespacefuckery @dayanna-hatter @mastercommandercaptain @vidalinav @mindnumbmikey @wewhohavefailed @city-of-fae @rhysanddarlingfeyre @fucking-winchester-trash @lordof-bloodshed @firemadeofgirl

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starfiretheninja · 6 years

Text

Birthday Surprise

This was a request by an anon and I was happy to tackle my favorite gravity falls ship. Thank you so much for your patience and I hope that you enjoy it!

“Do I even want to know where this came from?” Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose, already suspecting that this enormous pastry was Mabel’s doing.

Before him was a multi-tiered cake that towered a foot or so above him with a circumference wide enough to feed the denizens of Gravity Falls. The colors were primarily red and blue blending into purple with other interspersed shades. Inspecting it closer, he quickly found that the pattern was hastily frosted on with no rhythm or rhyme to it. Almost as if it was designed by someone obsessed with spontaneity. However, the frosting looked like it came from a fine French bakery. Almost as if only someone with some affluence could afford this. . .

“Wait a minute. . .”

Not a moment later did he hear a smothered click!, a brief sizzle, and in an instant the cake bursted into a million gooey fragments. Nothing in the backyard was untainted by the explosive pastry, from the windows of the house to Dipper’s socks. Sucking in a breath, Dipper attempted to keep some semblance of dignity intact as he drew his hand upwards and swiped away a large glob of cake off of his cheek.

Looking up, Dipper realized that where the cake once stood was a mess of poster board and firework shells. The structure soon gave way, and Dipper’s peeved expression fell away as the fallen poster board revealed a cheeky looking Pacifica Northwest. That alone nearly made Dipper’s jaw drop. He couldn’t believe that she had come all the way to California. And on such short notice before classes started again. She looked dazzling in her lavender knee-length dress with off the shoulder straps and a ribbon draped around her waist, all accentuated by her loose platinum hair and confident smile. And. . . was that a cigar clenched between her teeth? A lit cigar?!

“Not that I’m not absolutely thrilled to see you, but why do you have a cigar? I thought you didn’t like those,” Dipper began, not entirely sure what to believe.

“It was my dad’s birthday gift to me. I figured the best way to get back at him was to use it for my peasant boyfriend’s birthday surprise so he couldn’t get mad at me for ‘not appreciating his generosity’,” Pacifica responded mischievously. “And while I’m using this. . .” Taking a drag, she let out a perfectly crafted smoke ring. She then gracefully lifted her hand and snapped her fingers at the top of the ring, causing it to collapse into a smoky heart shape. Dipper felt a mixture of pride for his rebellious girlfriend and distaste for her father’s lack of consideration.

“How long did it take you to perfect that smoke form?” was the only thing Dipper could manage.

“Just now. I wasn’t about to let this puppy go to waste with practice.” With that, Pacifica dug the butt of the cigar and drove it into the platform under her feet to put out the flame. “Now with that out of the way, let’s celebrate your birthday, Dipper.”

Pacifica drew a case out of her purse, tucked the cigar into it, and stashed the gift away into her purse. Popping a breath mint into her mouth, she then held out her hand to Dipper.

“Come on, I’ve got the whole day planned out,” she smiled softly.

Snapping out of his stupor, Dipper eagerly took her hand, then wrapped his other arm around her to give her a much needed hug.

“I can’t wait.”

To start off, Pacifica treated Dipper to lunch at the nearby diner that he always mentioned to her.

“I see your point, this does look a lot like Greasy’s. Except this place probably actually has an inspector come through every so often,” Pacifica commented upon stepping into the busy restaurant.

“I haven’t gotten food poisoning here yet,” Dipper said, referring to a certain incident from last summer when he visited Gravity Falls. “Plus, everything’s affordable here.”

“Good. I wasn’t planning on spending the fortune I no longer have on one meal,” Pacifica snarked, as she thumbed through the menu. Dipper took the moment to admire her. Despite the shock of losing her family’s inheritance, she clearly rose to the occasion and worked to build a savings for herself. And she was taking what she was able to earn to give Dipper an awesome day. He couldn’t appreciate that more.

Pacifica noticed her boyfriend’s loving stare and raised an eyebrow knowingly.

“Yes?”

“I’ve told you how awesome you are right?” Dipper toed his foot to brush her leg.

“Only every other Skype call. But you could always stand to say it more.” Pacifica responded by gently rubbing her leg against his.

Dipper reached his hand across the table and gently took her hand and rested it on the table.

“Then maybe I’ll say it later,” he said cheekily. Pacifica let out a fake scoff of indignity.

“And after all I’ve done for you!” she said dramatically.

“I mean, you haven’t paid for dinner yet.”

“We’ll see if I still feel like paying after you’ve actually ordered something.”

The two parted hands once their food arrived, but continued playing footsie throughout their meal. Pacifica smiled deviously to herself, reveling in getting away with being publicly affectionately with her boyfriend with her parents in the next state over.

“Remind me again why you asked Mabel to arrange the scavenger hunt?” Dipper asked as he did his best to hold steady. This task was growing increasingly difficult as Pacifica, who was sitting on his shoulders, pushed harder on the top of his head to reach for the next clue sitting precariously on the tree branch.

“I don’t live here, so how would I know where to actually put the clues. Aha!” she laughed triumphantly as she finally caught the slip of paper between her fingers. “And would this be nearly as fun if you didn’t get to lift up your gorgeous girlfriend?”

“I’m just more afraid of what my parents would say to your parents if they saw you scandalously exposing to much leg in front of me,” Dipper joked, referring to her hiked up dress so Dipper could lift her up. He lowered himself to the ground in a crouching position. Pacifica gracefully swung off of him and straightened out her dress.

“You’ve seen me in a bathing suit before,” she pointed out.

“That’s different. But I’m glad I can lift you up like the princess you are.”

“Darn right you are. Now let’s figure out where Mabel will send us next.”

“Okay! Glad we’re out of that mess!” Dipper wheezed. Attempting to climb through the various attractions at Mr. Fuzzbert’s Arcadia past all of the clearly unsanitary tunnels was difficult enough, but digging around in the perfume department where half of the employees recognized Pacifica as a Northwest and viciously attempting to upsell her their products was a place they never thought they’d get through.

“So help me if one more girl sprays me with a free sample. . .” Pacifica started, but stopped short. “Wait, there’s the fountain!”

The two joyfully rushed to, what was hopefully, their final destination: the water fountain in the middle of the mall. They immediately scrambled to find the right carved in pattern on the outer ring.

“The clue said the unicorn, right?” Pacifica asked frantically, hoping their nightmare would soon come to an end.

“When Mabel says a sparkly, violent horse, she definitely means unicorn,” Dipper answered, still circling the fountain. “Here it is!”

He pushed on the pattern. The stone slid backwards, then sideways to reveal a secret compartment as Pacifica hurried to his side. Reaching his hand inside cautiously, Dipper pulled out a package wrapped in tinfoil.

“This is a weird wrapping for Mabel to use,” Dipper wondered aloud.

“That’s actually mine,” Pacifica said.

“Really? I would have thought you would have used hot pink or something.”

“I used it to protect your gift from the aliens.”

“I found an actual spaceship with Ford, you know.”

“But you never showed me, so it’s still a conspiracy theory.”

“Oh har har, very funny. . .” Dipper trailed off as he ripped apart the foil to reveal his gift. He then proceeded to let out a very girly shriek, causing passerby to look on in concern.

“Nowayisthisreally-”

“The Tome of the Truskian civilization, yes.” Pacifica had remembered Dipper grumbling about one of the items that the Stans had found on their world-touring adventures, but they refused to let their great-nephew look at it for fear of a curse on it. However, from what Soos reported from spending time around them upon their return was that the curse seemed to have been suppressed once more by Ford’s quick thinking. So long as Dipper didn’t stain the paper with the blood of royalty from the ruling class of the Truskian empire, he would probably be fine.

“How did you get this away from Ford and Grunkle Stan?! They banned me from ever even touching this!”

“Let’s just say it took a little sweet talking and breaking and entering,” Pacifica said cryptically. “I distracted them with a cheesy song and dance at Greasy’s while Wendy swiped it from the Shack and planted a fake.”

“You really do love me,” Dipper teared up, holding the book to his chest and drawing Pacifica close with his free arm.

“The things I do for you,” Pacifica sighed contently as she wrapped her arms around Dipper’s shoulders.

The pair finally arrived at the beach at sunset and located the tucked away corner that Mabel had secured for them earlier. The setup was complete with a large towel, a cooler, and a flashlight for the two to read the tome together. Mabel had also taken the liberty to surround the area with pink rose petals.

“I didn’t ask for the petals, but I’ll accept them,” Pacifica resigned, hoping that Dipper wouldn’t get too flustered by the romantic additions.

“At least she didn’t cover them in glitter,” Dipper joked, trying to suppress a certain evening that Mabel had stuck her creative hands into.

Cozying up together, the couple watched the sunset fade into a fiery gold color. With no company other than the ebb and flow of the ocean, it didn’t take long for the two to start making out. In between the desperate kisses, they whispered ‘I missed you’ and “I love you’ over and over again. Knowing that it wouldn’t be long until they were separated again, they held each other tightly. In the midst of the haze, Pacifica remembered her final surprise for Dipper.

“Mason,” she whispered.

“Hmm,” Dipper hummed, knowing that the use of his name always meant that she was being serious.

“There’s still one last gift left,” she gestured toward the cooler.

“Can’t it wait a little longer?” he whined, unwilling to let her go.

“Normally, I would want to kiss you longer. But I’m pretty sure the beach closes after sunset and I don’t want to get chased out by cops before the grand finale.”

“I suppose so,” Dipper sighed, releasing her. “So what do you have in there?”

“Just a little something I picked up outside the county.” Pacifica proceeded to pull a massive heap of fireworks out of the cooler and placed in carefully on the beach, angling it upwards towards the sky.

“I’ll. . . pack everything up. We’ll need to run after setting that thing off,” Dipper noted, as fireworks were highly illegal in his county. As he neatly folded the blanket, Pacifica pulled out a lighter and the remainder of the cigar from her purse. Lighting up the cigar, she gave it a quick puff to ensure that it would stay heated for the moment. Popping a final breath mint into her mouth, she turned to the eager Dipper.

“Ready?”

“Let’s see what firepower this thing has.”

Pressing the cigar to the fuse, Pacifica watched as her father’s precious gift gave flame to her boyfriend’s final gift of the evening. The fuse began to spark and the two ran a few meters away, both plugging their ears and giggling hysterically. The fireworks shot up into the air all at once, breaking off into two segments. One firework exploded, letting out a bang! and formed the shape of a constellation very familiar to Dipper. The other popped and sizzled immediately afterwards and formed a purple heart.

“Whoa! Pacifica that was. . .” Dipper started, a dopey grin on his face. He turned to Pacifica, who raised her eyebrow expectantly. Dipper threw his arms around her.

“Incredible. You really are the best girlfriend.” Dipper kissed her cheek affectionately, hoping he could demonstrate just how grateful he was that she would take the time to track down a Big Dipper firework just for him.

“For you, it was more than worth it,” Pacifica smiled, burying her face into his chest. Dipper had brought so much adventure and joy into her life. The least she could do for him was to give him a special day. Pulling back, she said, “Now let’s book it before we get into trouble. But first. . .”

Digging the cigar into the sand to put it out, Pacifica gracefully tossed it into the nearby garbage can as the two ran hand in hand from the now crime scene.

“Thanks, Dad. Your gift came in handy after all.”

#gravity falls #dipper pines #pacifica northwest #dipifica #dippica #i write #fanfic

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boogiewrites · 6 years

Text

Choking On Sapphires 40

Title & Song: Future Starts Slow

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 5100+

Summary: Genevieve allows herself to be vulnerable and intimacy ensues.

Warnings/Tags: Language. FLUFF. Intimacy. Sexual content.

**Chapter song is Future Starts Slow by The Kills.**

A/N: This is my favorite thing I’ve written so far. <3

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist. (Includes Parts 1-39)

You had been excited a mere hour and a half ago, but now you were standing in the corner, arms crossed across your chest with your lip between your teeth. Since when did you feel lonely? And in a room full of people? You chew your cheek and wonder if you're just moody from whichever point in your cycle you're in. You thought that maybe getting out by yourself, mixing among the socialites and upper class might make you feel empowered. You'd gotten all tarted up for no one but yourself and as soon as you'd started a conversation with the other party goers you'd had to hold in your heavy sighs at their words.

The women's heads seemed full of air, only gossiping about other people, nothing of any weight to be said. The men's pick up lines were atrocious and some downright nasty, uninspired and delivered with zero charisma. You find yourself unamused and uninspired and not wanting to be there. So you stare into the tower of delicately balanced champagne flutes, sigh after sigh, disappointing conversation to disappointing conversation, and you place the glass back down on the table. You hear a loud booming laugh of a man, swinging your head to see, your brain telling you it might be Alfie, but alas, it's not.

You tuck your purse under your arm and head for the door. You find yourself for the first time leaving a party early and being happy about it. You're already relieved as you slide into your car, you lie back your head and realize the best conversation you could be filling your time with would be at home, so that's where you'd rather be.

Alfie's nose is in a book, little gold glasses atop it as it twitches, his eyes blinking as he hears your car coming up the lane. He'd expected you to be out all night, you'd been so excited about the party earlier he found it strange behavior. He knew if anything was wrong that you'd come and tell him, so he chooses to continue reading and be patient.

Your feet aren't light as you walk into the study. You spin and flop dramatically onto the couch next to Alfie, causing him to grunt and look over at you. Your shoulders are slumped, lips pouted and face annoyed.

"Somefin' wrong, luv?" he says quietly, lowering his glasses as your eyes move over to meet his.

"No." you sigh.

He lets out a huff of a laugh. "Not very convincing, that." he grins with a nod of his head at you.

"I was having a miserable time at the party. Everyone was so...boring." you say with a twist of your chin.

"Well that's high society for ya." he agrees, a small shrug of his shoulders.

"I realized I'd rather be home." one corner of your mouth pulls back in a small smile at him. "And now that I'm back I plan on washing the makeup and mediocrity off of me in a nice long bath." Your eyes move to his hair, fluffy and messy and clearly recently washed. "I see you've already taken one tonight." Your voice sounds disappointed. This doesn't go unnoticed by him as he watches your eyelashes flutter as they move over his hair.

"Yeah, I got it over wif." His voice matches yours, soft in its delivery as he watches your face. It falls slightly, moving to your dress before you gather it in your hands to stand.

"You know where to find me if you need me, Fie." You say in an exhale, giving him a small smile as you look back at him over your shoulder before leaving the room.

So you'd rather be home with him and you'd planned on having a bath with him are the unanticipated thoughts behind his blinking eyes. He finds them fluttering like yours, and that much he'll acknowledge. But the fluttering in his stomach, and more importantly his chest that the confessions made him feel bring him to his feet without so much as a second thought as they find their way to you. ----------- Your eyes are closed, hidden by the steaming hot washcloth over your face. Your head leaned back on the edge of the tub, facing him as he quietly pads his way into the bathroom. The window is cracked only slightly, letting the sounds of the night in. You've forgone electric lights and set up candles in the room and bedroom, he'd seen you do this once before, but now he understood it as a way that you romanced yourself. You'd claimed it calmed you, saying everything looked softer, easier to deal with in candlelight. But with the sounds he'd heard you making with yourself on that night, after passing your door much later in the evening, he knew you were doing more than that with the dreamily lit environment you'd created. Perhaps he could make it so you didn't have to do any romancing or touching of yourself on your own anymore.

He watches you in silence for a few moments, the ripples across the water from your hands moving along your body, from shoulders to breasts to thighs and knees and back again. There are no bubbles to hide your feminine form from his eyes this time. The lavender he'd gotten you sits in the window alive and well, bits of it floating in the water with you. The steam rising smells lovely, just like the lavender itself, reminding him of the times he'd gotten close to you directly after a bath, that smell sticking to your skin as he got to steal small secretive sniffs of you as you got close to him. He didn't plan on sneaking any of those tonight. He yearned to press his face into your warm skin and inhale so obviously his lungs burned from the exertion. He desired to know what your pink and polished skin would feel like against his with steam still rolling off your body from the heat of the bath.

A lump builds in his throat as you move your hands to wipe the washcloth down your face, eyes moving automatically to him. You'd known he was there the whole time. Of course, you had.

"Are you going to just stand there?" you say with a soft smile, a piece of hair falling down across your face as you moved your head, the rest still piled on top in a knot.

"Seems when I come across you naked I'm compelled to silence and observation." he tilts his head slightly, an almost shy smile as he looks down at the floor.

"I'm not bothered in the slightest by your gaze. What is it, darling?" you say with a soft chuckle.

"I didn't want to interrupt your alone time, luv but I found myself wanting to be around you once you left. Seeing as I thought I'd be here alone all night and possibly nursing you and a hangover tomorrow morning, this now as a viable option seemed much more enjoyable." he grins and looks back up to you. "And seeing as those other people were such a bore I thought I might throw my hat into the ring to entertain you."

A smile blooms across your face, reaching your eyes as they crinkled at the edges. "And what is this plan of yours to entertain me?" your chin moves back and forth as you seem to glow at him, your damp skin glistening in the low light of the room.

He motions one pointed finger the tub. Your eyes follow it's direction and then swing back up to his.

"I thought you already had a bath." you say in a much quieter voice. You were hiding how your breath caught in your chest at the way he could read you. All from a glance and a fluttering of lashes that you hadn't even meant to do. He had known what you'd wanted.

"Yes but, I didn't have one with you now, did I?" the charm is back behind his eyes and smile and you succumb to it.

"I'd much prefer to have a pleasurable memory to be attached to you and baths than the current one of me being hurt." you use as an excuse, your brows raising high on your face.

"Then you don't mind if I join you?" he shakes his head, hand motioning out towards the tub in a broad gesture.

"No! Of course not!" your voice goes a little too high pitched, not hiding your happiness at his suggestions. "I'd love for you to, darling." you say, sitting up and moving to the end of the tub closest to him, forearms on the edge, water dripping off you and into the floor as you rest your chin and watch him undress.

"Good thing I'm not shy." he says with a laugh, shirt already off and fingers pulling down his pajama pants. "What with the way you stare and all." his chest keeps moving as he chuckles, eyes narrowed playfully at you.

"I like to gaze at things I find appealing, dear, you know this by now." you shake your head, sitting up to make room in the large tub, nose scrunching up at him with a smile that was entirely honest and genuine.

"Oh she's sweet talking me now, eh?" he laughs as you turn in the tub, knees to your chin as he steps in and takes his time sinking down in the steaming water. "Fucking hell, you like the water hot." he says, lip snarling slightly as he adjusts.

"It makes me feel more at home. Acclimated to my birthplace of hell." you laugh at yourself, shoulders shaking and rippling the water further.

"Mmm." he grunts, finally relaxing against the side of the tub. "I would argue but sittin' in it now it's feeling well good on my old bones so I suppose I'll agree since I too am feeling at home." he lets out a sigh and you both gaze at each other for a moment.

The room is near silent, just wind and insects muffled from outside, the lapping of the water as you moved hesitantly. Feeling oddly unsure as to how to proceed, your uncertainty sits heavy in your stomach.

He must have seen it on your face as he always does, as his deep voice breaks the silence. "C'mere, luv." he gives a subtle gesture with his hand. You give a shy smile, looking down and slinking towards him.

You move to put your back to his chest, sitting forward between his legs.

"Lay back sweetheart, relax," he says softly, and you let yourself lean back against him fully, Your head falling back just near his shoulder, giving you enough room to lay it back. "It's not usually me telling you to relax." his wet fingers move your hair away from your face and neck, you could feel his breath fan across the bend of it, stretched out and vulnerable to him. "Take your deep breaths." he quietly suggests, and you obey. "I know I can't live up to your hands but I can rub your back if you'd like." he offers.

"Oh no I much prefer laying back like this." you say softly, eyes closing. "Rubbing the front is much more relaxing than rubbing my back to me." you let out a little chuckle.

"As if you would even have to ask for me to do such a thing." his voice has that delightful cheeky ring to it.

"I do mean north and not south." you let out a giggle as you move his hands to your chest, your face leaning back, hands going back to rest and you let out a noisy sigh as he starts to knead your breasts. "Much better, darling, thank you for indulging me." you say as your head snuggles back into his chest.

"More than happy to oblige." you feel the breath of his laugh over your neck. "This alright?" you feel his mouth rest on top of your head, an affection tone washing over you.

"Wonderful, as long as your touching me, really." you admit in a breathy exhale, not feeling the sexual repercussions of such touching yet. He wasn't pinching and teasing, only rolling you softly about, hands sometimes wandering up your sternum, down to your ribs and stomach, warm and wet up your neck and cupping your shoulders. Soft and lazy and exactly what you needed.

"Now then. Tell me what made you leave a party you'd been looking forward only a few short hours ago." his voice is deep and evenly paced, taking cues from the back massages you'd given him. Everything feeling easy and gentle.

"I found myself feeling out of place. The women only wanted to gossip and I suppose I needed something of more substance tonight." you say in a weaker voice, now trying to deeply relax against him. You sat across him like a throne, your hand on his thigh of the knee that was bent up, the other rests against your own.

"Mmm." he said thoughtfully. "And you don't mention the men?" he chuckles, "I know they talked to you."

You let out an amused hum and smile, watching your fingers trace back and forth on his leg. "Awful." you let out a laugh and turn your head up to look at his face. "So boring. So unoriginal. Devoid of any charm whatsoever." your face shows your mild annoyance.

"Not even a handsome one could hold your attention?" his face looking possibly slightly smug in the low light.

You laugh again. "What's handsome worth anyway?" you shrug and look back to your restless fingers.

"Well it's worth quite a lot I'd imagine." he says with humor in his voice.

"Yes but for how long?" you sigh. "When I was younger, yes. I'd find one that was easy on the eyes and with the intellect of a bucket of rocks with a hole in the bottom and never care." you give your younger self a half smile.

"And not now?"

"The older I've gotten the more complicated it's all become." you shake your head just slightly. "Before you, it'd been over two years since I'd slept with someone." he studies your face, your microexpressions as they pass over and change with the thoughts you weren't expressing. "I could work with only handsome before, but now I require things far beyond that it seems."

"Like what, luv?" he sweetly inquires.

"A trinity of physical, mental and emotional."

"A sure sign of a woman who knows her worth and what she wants." you almost purr at his praise. "It'd been over two years...really?" he says, eyes narrowing at the statement almost in disbelief as he'd seen your sexual appetite and he wasn't sure how you had gone so long without exploding into thousands of tiny, shaking pieces.

"Yes." you say certainly, a slight nod of your head.

"And why me, sweetheart?"

The question and the earnest tone catch you off guard, your eyes flutter open as you think. "Well you checked all three boxes didn't you?" you say obviously, he feels the tension leave your body as your eyes shut again.

"Did I?" he says smugly, a grin on his face you can't see.

"I wouldn't be here with you now if you didn't." you state obviously.

"If you wouldn't mind to indulge me a bit here, luv..." you can feel him swallow before he speaks. "How exactly is it that an old ruffian like me got to be so lucky as to have you approve of him?"

You weren't sure what he was looking for from you. Maybe it was genuine curiosity. But perhaps now was a good time to sort a few things out for yourself. You go back to your original approach when you were still trying to learn to trust him fully and go with honesty. "Well..." you clear your throat and open your eyes. "For physical, you didn't have to do anything. You're very handsome." you grin and look up at him again, wanting to see him as the compliments came down upon him.

"So complimentary this evening." he chuckles down at you, you reach up, water droplets plinking against his skin and down your arm as you reach up to scratch his beard.

"You said indulge you, so I suppose you want specifics?" your eyes narrow playfully at him, a warm smile on your lips.

"How could I not want to understand how your brain works, Genevieve?" he looks down at you and radiates charm.

"Let's start with this work of art that is your face." you coo at him. A smile that mirrors the warmth and fondness of your own beams down at you. "That heavy masculine brow...piercing eyes...that example of perfection that is your nose." your head shakes back and forth just slightly.

"My nose?" he lets out a laugh.

"Yes, it's brilliant, darling. Perfect planes and points. My inner artist adores your face." you can't help but laugh with him. "And don't even get me started on those plush pillows you try to pass for lips." you giggle at yourself.

"These? These lips?" he puckers them and your nose wrinkles as you laugh at his silly antics.

"Mmm Hmm." you nod, lips barely able to close from a smile.

"Mmmph. I see." he says with a furrowed brow, leaning down to kiss you.

The wet smack of your lips back and forth for just a moment is all you hear echoing in the dark room. "I'm afraid with kisses to go with your hands on my breasts you're going to get me the opposite of relaxed." you smirk at him.

"I certainly don't have a problem with that...unless you do." his lips pout just slightly in the asking of permission.

"I do not." you shake your head and bite your lip.

"Certainly such sweet honesty deserves to be rewarded, luv." he coos down at you, one hand moving down to between your legs as you let out an audible sigh.

"You know I adore your reward system." you chuckle, closing your eyes, pressing the side of your face into your shoulder, nuzzling into his chest as his fingers parted your lips, rough fingertips giving you slow drags up your clit.

"What else?" his voice rings out darker, more commanding.

"Mmmph. Okay I'll try to keep talking." you can't help the smile that blooms across your face at his playful antics. "We were on physical...handsome...yes." you nod and scratch his beard. "I'm terribly fond of your more...masculine traits. This full beard..." you let out a noise of approval. "Even if it does cover that angel face of yours, still can't find it within me to prefer you clean shaved over it. Especially when you let it get a bit wild like this." your lips curl into a smile. "The salt and pepper of it," you give the lightening bits a tug at his chin. "The way it scatters down that...thick neck of yours." you let out a breathy exhale and lick your lips, his fingertips still tapping and gently flicking, building a slow burn within you.

Getting a peak inside your head like this, and as your eyes slowly darkened at his motions and your own words, the way you were getting wet over describing him physically was making him hard. It gave him a rush of power that he hadn't known before. You were clearly enjoying whatever feelings it was giving you, even in the low light, the flames flickering and lighting you like a painting you might create, he could see the truthfulness of your words behind those big brown eyes of yours. "And you are built, cheri. Just...broad and...strong." you bite your lip to muffle a soft moan. "And your hands...ugh." you look down at your chest, feeling his chest move with a silent laugh at the roll of your eyes at him. "The rings are so sexy and those calloused fingertips and palms from work make me feel like a little sheltered French girl who's getting sexually awoken by the farmhand she's been secretly pining over." you chuckle at yourself.

He never thought he'd hear such words from you. To be able to see himself as you saw him only made him feel more powerful, more capable and dominant.

"You already know how I feel about that magnificent instrument I feel rousing against my bum right now." you grin again, eyes looking into the water at the hand moving just slightly between your legs.

"Now 'at you have praised before." he practically groans, fingers now sliding farther down, making you whimper and your chest start to heave with need as he pushed two fingers inside you.

"That curved cock of yours can press my buttons in the most sinful of ways, Fie." you whisper out, eyes closed again as you let your head fall back.

"Like 'is?" he whispers against your ear, fingers curling and holding you with a jolt that forced an involuntary noise from your lips of an obvious agreement.

"Oui." you whimper out. His fingers uncurl, going back to a slow in and out that was still making it hard for you to keep your head clear enough to carry on a conversation.

"And what's next, luv?" his voice to that delicious condescending power that made you tense around him.

"Mental." you rasp out before clearing your throat.

"Mmm. Now 'is. I'm very interested to hear." he whispers in your ear, making you bite your lip and moan softly.

"Well you do this." you let out a huff of a laugh. "It's the first thing I noticed about you. Couldn't miss it even from across the room." your head shakes as his fingers return to your clit, fingers pinching your nipple harder.

"What's that, sweetheart?" he implores further.

"That power you have. You just..." you gulp, and take a strong inhale. "It radiates off you. It's not just smart...not only clever or funny." your voice grows weaker, needier and it causes a groan to build up in his chest. "You are those but this is...different," you whine out. "Like an... undeniable charisma that forced itself in and seduced my mind."

"That is the sexiest thing you've ever said to me." his tone is exactly what you speak of. Like his words could command you to feel things you didn't want to. Things you'd fought for years against feeling, things you'd lied to yourself about existing.

"But you can be a right cheeky bastard when you want to be." your grin showed through your flushed, bitten lower lip.

"Someone's got to remind you, ya can't be in control all the time, Genevieve." you moan at the words, his fingers now harder and more insistent against your throbbing bundle of nerves.

"That's it..." you swallow noisily again. "The power I was talking about." you rasp out before you moan again.

"Oh, I know." you can feel his charming, wicked grin even though your eyes are shut and you can't see it. He was humming with power at this moment, even he could feel it and be aware of it now. Identifying the exact thing he wanted to know that made you want to submit to him. He was relieved it was something you found unique, as that assured you couldn't get it from anyone but him.

You knew what title came next. Your least favorite to talk about. But his fingers working against you were working like a truth serum as you were already a heaving chested, lusty little bird in his hands.

"And what closes this emotional trifecta for you, luv?"

How did he make you feel? You knew the answer of everything wouldn't work. You knew a lie wouldn't suffice, or possibly even come out of your mouth at this point. "You make me laugh." you whisper, eyes open but half-lidded.

He feels a motion in his chest that catches him off guard. Making you laugh was one of his favorite things. Something he'd worked at the art of all this time, as you didn't seem to care for just anyone's sense of humor, and you certainly didn't give the lusty head thrown back, hand to your chest laughs to anyone but him. Knowing it's what came to mind first touched him deeply. "I do." he answers smugly, lips against your ear as you shudder against him.

"I don't know how you do it but you can calm me...shut me down without making me hate you." your voice was sounding different, and not just because he was actively switching his fingers between circles around your clit and pressuring inside of you. "Perhaps that's also the power." you rub the side of your face into his chest, eyes squeezed shut in concentration and arousal.

"Perhaps." is all he can answer. He didn't know what he expected, but as you tended to do, you were outdoing anything he had expected to come from his antics.

"And you..." you swallow again, he feels you hesitate, feels your breath catch.

"What is it, luv?" he whispers, lips pressing against your neck and you moan at his actions.

"I feel...safe around you." your eyes open and they seem surprised by your own answer, he rewards the honesty with more curling of his fingers inside you and you cry out.

"I take that as a great compliment in our sort of life, darling." his lips continue moving across your neck, feeling your pulse jump, watching your chest move rapidly, whimpering out little moans with each time he'd press into you.

"More so..." you take a deep breath. You force it out. You do it because it's true. He wanted answers...you'd give them to him. You move your face, causing his lips to break suction from your skin. You move your hand up to the back of his head, hand trailing down the side of his neck, trembling. He meets your eyes and the fear flickers back and forth between the two of you for a moment. "I trust you." you confess. His heart races against his ribs so hard you feel it against your back.

"You..." he almost stutters and catches himself. "You trust me, luv?" It was a question and an unsure one at that. Trust wasn't something that existed in either of your lives previously. Least of all in someone who also worked in the treacherous, lying and brutal world that you two existed in.

You nod, licking your lips. "I trust you Alfie." it spills from your lips and as if he could catch it and put it back in with his own, he kisses you. "Should I?" you ask, his lips barely even parted from your own. "You aren't playing me like an instrument are you? Like you are with your fingers now?" your lips tremble, and not just because he had you on the edge of an orgasm.

The awful, wicked things you had to have been told about him. From Tommy alone, who could fill a book with all of Alfie's lies and betrayal. The other gangsters you worked with, you must know what sort of man he was. And now, looking into your deep, emotion filled eyes that desperately sought out answers he feels a shift within himself. That was the sort of man he had been. Not who he was now...not who he was with you. You claimed to be under the influence of his power but what of him with yours? Saving his life, forgiving him and taking him in and never demanding anything in return. Somewhere along this strange road that you two were walking down together he'd become loyal to you.

At first, it must've been your beauty, he thinks. Then your kindness towards him. He wasn't used to such a thing directed at him. Then your mind bewitched him, your skill and your dual nature of brutality and finesse. Somewhere between the night you first met and now...somewhere he'd been chained to you by fate and without question, and now realizing for the first time in his life...without question, he was loyal to you.

"You can trust me my love." his voice barely a whisper, a clearly honest answer you felt down into your bones. You push his head against yours again, deepening the kiss, your fingers in the strands of hair that reached past his hairline and down onto his neck.

He feels you shudder again, a whine still audible despite the way your lips locked together. He moves from your lips, to sloppily kiss your neck which you give him full access to.

"Alfie." you call out his name, his fingers back to your clit, moving fast and purposeful, wanting to make you feel as good as your confessions whispered in the dark tonight have made him feel. Your hand reaches up to clutch his that's still working against your breast. "I never thought..." another moan wracks your body. "Never thought I'd trust a man again." you whine, thighs starting to shake. His heart drops into his guts.

"I don't say it lightly, sweetheart." his words pass through the filter of lips and tongue to your throat and shoulders. "And I mean it. Never let it be a source of worry." he rasps against your skin. "To worry about my betrayal when it comes to you is..." he sucks at your skin as your cry out for him again, your hands shaking as they hold onto him tightly as he knows you're so close. "Needless." he moans into your ear. "Pointless." he huffs out, a groan escaping his chest. "Causeless." he whispers into your shoulder as you have your final shake, your body pressed against his fully as you held you tightly, letting the water spill and splash over the edges of the tub as you writhe against him. His eyes close, the feeling of your soft flesh grinding against him makes them want to roll back in his head.

"Oh, fuck." you breathily exhale. You feel a rush you haven't before. You felt alive and energized, the quiet room falling back into place, the moans hushing for a moment as you come down. You sit up, moving to bring your chest to his as you take his face in your hands and kiss him hard. His large hands travel up your back and hold you with splayed fingers gripping against you. "Alfie..." you whisper against him, gulping and taking a sharp inhale. He pants against your mouth, eyes traveling across your glistening face, patiently awaiting your request. "Take me to bed and make love to me." you request softly. He sees your eyes soft and wanting, focusing on his features that you'd confessed your fondness for.

"Anything you want, Genevieve." he whispers, his hand pushes your head back down to join his, mouths lapping at each other as your weak, high pitched moans intermingle with the constriction of his arms around you, holding you as tightly as he possibly could, knowing it would never feel close enough.

Pt. 41 No One Knows

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