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furymint · 4 years

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All Prompts

#02: Sway

#03: Muster

#06: Bonus

#08: Clamor

#09: Lush

#12: Tooth & Nail

#15: Ache

#16: Lucubration

#20: Bonus

#22: Argy-Bargy

#24: Beam

Header | Reflection of some of my favorite peers’ prompts under the cut!

@aethernoise -- #11: Ultracrepidarian

tired curses!!!! i also really love this contrast in their work..... its rly cute. alyx just saved the world and aymeric is hating the dictionary. i like how rough his narration is and then alyx calls and everything speeds up, and i especially love him staring into the empty room. it put another contrast between their circumstances, but its also rly damn accurate abt how it feels to share a moment over the phone w someone. it made me smile a lot

@ahlis-xiv -- #23: Shuffle

this one made me laugh ksjdf ahlis’ distaste for the saucer despite being drawn to it is hysterical, but it also mirrors a lot of her character flaws: avoiding vulnerability, placing stoicism before genuineness, planting her frustration on external things instead of herself. even confronting her own feelings draws some curses out of her, and i love that display of her personality.

@autochthonousone -- #09: Nonagenarian

i love me some reflection and mentorship. also im obsessed with “let ‘lone this ‘n”.........dialect is such a hit or miss thing when writing or reading, but god youve got it and i love that line so much. barry’s relationship w stalwart is even better tho, and i cant repeat enough how much i love their dynamic of fair/stern/wise and distant/brutish/actually-paying-complete attention.

@brave-horizon -- #12: Tooth & Nail

talk abt using the setting..............i rly struggle w incorporating setting so this was a little mind-blowing to me. we got a really cool action scene plus established an entire town and conflict all at once?? battle scenes are hard. but ur vocab is so precise and stuff like “seized midstride” and “spilling its pilot” are rly inspiring me rn!! wind magic is smth ive brainstormed in the past but u have such good ideas w it and im so pumped just rereading it. its so good

@erstwhile25 -- #05: Matter of Fact

oh my god. some kind of dialogue god comes down and hands kail all his words, or else he’s just the dialogue god himself. im leaning towards the latter. i wish to god i could say “very small dogs with the barest streaks of sanity” in daily life, and honestly i might start to. the crew of the rook are always a joy to see + the development of their conversation takes such a meaningful turn that it really sticks after the laughs

@endangered-liaison -- #05: Matter of Fact

sorry not sorry jaejh is cool!!!! he’s super nasty and terrible and interesting and i loved his voice, but i esp love how well he pushed the conflict and just Ruined Everything. i rly live how his influence bleeds into the others through their fear. The kids go from hoping or expecting to smth better, to not even debating that he’s lying bc it will just turn out worse. the berry stains as a gun on the wall never struck me either, and i was SHOOK

@high-and-away -- #10: Avail

honestly this was the hardest one to pic a fav for. i rly loved so many of these bc they check a lot of boxes for my Brand. this one sits the longest with active conflict + does a fantastic job staying clear despite all the trails it picks up w max’s foil n comradeship, the chocobo’s higher level of pity over people, the chaotic pack of Resistance members, and the highlander that vicky reasons over n kills. i love that word “limning” now; ur vocab always finds ways to surprise me w the way u use them (esp in describing settings)

@holyja -- #03: Muster

usually when i think of lizzy writing, i think of how perfect ur verbs are, but this time i really liked the visuals and tone. hyana pushing food around her plate and sitting on the rooftops had such a lonely feel to them, but at the same time were rly enjoyable and clear imgs despite not having to be described forever. serella’s dialogue was perfectly on-the-nose, too. usually i rly linger on what is given too much detail, but this rly showed me how nice it is to air things out n leave the thought monologue unsaid.

@karoiseka -- #24: Beam

hell yeah memory lane time. i loved seeing CT from karo’s pov and seeing where her priorities lay or moved. i also liked the life u gave to the little parts left untouched by the narrative, like walking through CT and the heartbeat in the soul vessel. idk what could be more satisfying that a reunion either, so following karo into the ocular was some Good Shit

@mythrilreflections -- #15: Ache

does this get bonus points just for being in o’ghomoro? yes. i love how the tunnels are characterized by the senseless kobolds in them. the added pressure from their reasonings for being in this hellhole is even better, and i love the sigils concept. jace’s narration is so cold, too, which makes both the kobold’s ferocity and the team’s desperation more poignant: he doesn’t sound the type to exaggerate.

@norhimorovine -- #14: Part

this one just screams fairy tale to me. the others do too, but the repetition of events rly knocks this one up the flagpole of ‘belongs in some mid 19th century kids story collection.’ i LOVE the sisters’ banter, and how the younger daughter gets incorporated a bit further for her attention. having the soldier take little pieces of each environment to prove they were real made them a lot more real to me, too.

@snowbird-down -- #03 Muster

if u think im NOT gonna lose my mind shrieking over stream of consciousness as one of the #1 ways of writing trauma, u have not been around me for very long. the varying sentence length is rly successful here, and i esp love the part where people are rushing into the ship and she has to stab a dude to keep him from coming aboard. it’s such a back and forth determining who is humanity and who is the faceless antagonist for a minute, n ofc i love that.

@stars-bleed-hearts-shine -- #28 -- Irenic

i was p surprised that my fav of urs came so late, but i feel like this piece has a lot of what your really good at, and which i admire a lot: you aren’t afraid of emotional dialogue or arguments based in more than factual debate, and you capitalize on casual thoughts that reveal a lot more than they do at face value. i esp like that you rly make the most of two characters that overlap in values and personality so often--they acknowledge that overlap and work together with what they share.

@yunkinko -- #05 Matter of Fact

im gonna forget abt that little rat line bc the last line is a kick in the teeth. i always admire ur ability to expand tiny details into lasting events. x’arhll’s musings also cut so different from the rest of the scene, separating her from the others and mhifa even further from her, so i love that contrast. the “arc of water” stayed with me for a while too.

#IM SORRY IF I DIDNT GET TO EVERYONE #i got a lotta exhausted after this #n i love rereading and catching up on things sm #ty sm for sharing ur writing everyone!!#n grats to everyone who wrote smth #i think my fav of mine is lush!#i like a lot of the War Feelings i got to do w nol tho #i wrote i lot less this year than last year #bc work and 2020 #so im a little :/// abt that #since last year i did a lot of good work that i like to reread #brianna babbles #ffxivwrite2020

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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years

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If we could please get that birdhaul scenario we’re kaito finds him and take him to his mother that would be amazing thank you

... pi.

"Mama!" You stopped whatever you were doing at the voice of your son calling out for you. You turned with a smile and a frow at seing how messy Kaito looked.

If Kai caught his own son on that state he would be having himself a tantrum.

"Sweetie you know that your father hates that you play on the backyard and dirty yourself like that." You kneeled while he grinned "Well, at least you took your shoes off."

"Mama look what I found!" He extended his hands and opened them cautiously, revealing a black little bird that seemed way too familiar to your taste.

The golden eyes revealed everthing. Those infuriated and angry golden eyes looking straight at your soul.

Oh boi...

"Can we keep it?" The bird started to chirp immediately as Kaito made a confused sound while looking at the creature on his hands.

"Honey... maybe is better for you to give me him for a moment." You extended your hands and Kaito pouted.

"You're not gonna let it... will you?" He spoke sadly "I know daddy doesn't allow pets but he was just laying there!"

"I know hon, but trust me. This is not some..." you looked at the fluffly lottle bird and snorted at his annoyed look and the tiny white tie hanging around his little neck, making him ruffle his feathers in anger "Ordinary bird."

"Sure he isn't!" He showed with more emphasis "Look! He has a miniature of daddy's jacket even! Maybe this time he will allow mama! Please!"

"Not if you keep shaking him like that..." you mused and Kaito stopped immediately, mumbling an apology to the bird.

He only glared back at Kaito before looking at you again and even seemed to have left out a an annoyed huff.

"Quirk?" You asked and he only lowered his beak in shame on his son's hands.

"Pi..." Kaaito opened his mouth on a silent gasp at hearing it before he looked at you with puppy eyes.

"Please mama???"

"Hon, he is not a pet." You said sweetly as you cupped the bird in your hands, him nodding as a form of gratitude "Far from it actually."

He suddenly pecked your hand, you let out a yelp and glared down at him.

"I washed my hands! Geez!" You huffed and the bird seemed content at least with your answer.

"He looks angry..." your kid commented as you sighed and lifted a bit the bird on your hands.

"Kaito. You know that sometimes quirks affects how we look and act... right?"

"Yeah, that's why daddy hates them." You deadpanned and the bird even dared to nod at that.

"So, at least for some unknown time... this bird is daddy." The kid arched one eyebrow as if you had gotten crazy before he looked at the bird in your hands.

It didn't take long for Kaito to start to giggle. And your husband seemed to growl on that form as he turned around and glared at you.

"What? You prefered that he treated you like a pet?" You yelped at the back he gave to your thumb "Okay! Okay! Sorry!"

"I can't believe that daddy is now a bird! And so small!" The kid clinched his stomach as he almost fell in the floor from laughter as the black feathers of your husband ruffled up.

"Calm down sweety..." you cooed and started to per his head, brushing his feathers down as he gave you a look "It won't last long for sure, until there is only have some patience."

He deadpans and pointed with his beak at his laughing son before returning to look at you.

"Pi."

"He will wear it off his energy in some time." You nuzzled him in your cheek "And in sorry honey but you look soooo cute!"

"Pi! Pi!" He started to flap his tiny wings as a effort to push you away, but they did no little on harming you due to how fluffly they were.

"Sorry! Is not everyday that I get so have you like this." You snickered and he pecked your hand again.

Long day ahead of you surely.

Kaito observed his dad in form of a bird, jumping here on there to read a book on the sofa... he scotted closer and he seemed to notice his presence.

Kai looked at his son, his face demonstrated only but boredoom.

"Even on this form you are boring daddy?" He asked innocently.

"Pi."

"What?" He tilted his head in confusion as Kai seemed to sigh, starting to point at the letter for his son to understand what he was trying to say.

Only to remember that Kaito had three years... and he couldn't read yet. Shit.

"Got it." Your voice manifested as you crouched down in front of the couch after patting your son's head. "The effects shouldn't last more than one day hun, you were lucky enough." You giggled and he huffed again.

You carresed one finger on him gently and this time he sighed at the contact, cooing silently at your touch.

"Mama." Kaito suddenly said, stealing the attention you were giving to your husband as he extended his arms out for you with a serious face yet pout on his lips.

"Aw? Getting sleepy aren't we?" You said aa you lifted yourself from the ground to pick your son up "What a miracle is that?"

He only snuggled on the crook of your neck, sending a smug look to Chisaki as he could only deadpan.

Seriously brat?

"I'm going to put him on the bed. Wanna come?" You offered as he mentally smirked, nodding nonchalantly as you sitted down on the couch to help him up in your shoulder.

Two could play the same game Kaito.

Right after putting the boy on the bed Kai dared himself to nestle right on the spot where your ear connected with your neck, just for his son to see.

"No fair!" He exclaimed sleepy, while you rolled your eyes with a smile and wished him good night.

"You really needed to do that?" You asked while smilling "You're not one to do such things."

"Pi." The way he seemed to shrug was too adorable, but you decided to not manifest your thought in favor of not being pecked right on the neck.

You smiled at the sudden thought that cane to your head as you looked at Chisaki getting out from your shoulder to return to his book.

"Kai?" He turned to look at you as you lowered your face close to him.

"Love you, my birdy." He seemes to scoff at that as his feathers ruffle up in embarrassment, making you giggled and place a sweet kiss on him.

"Pi!" He chirped angrily as you laughed with your hands lifted up in defence.

"Sorry! I couldn't resist!" You said with eyes close but suddenly opening them when you felt a breeze and no longer seing the black little bird that was in your hold minutes ago.

"'Couldn't resist', you say." He mumbled while looking at his, thank god, human hand back before staring at you nonchalantly.

"... see?" You chirped while pointing at him "Not even the whole day you stayed like that!" You got up but yelped when he grabbed onto your forearm and pushed you right on his lap.

"Exactly. You're lucky I came to love you enough to spare you for making me flustered two times on a day." He muttered lowly as you felt shivers at his lips moving closer to your own. His warm caging your body to his along with his arms as his hands carresed your thighs.

"I still cant believe though that even as a bird you and Kaito fight for attention." Yoi giggled and let out a soft whisper at him kissing your neck softly.

"Is not a fight for attention angel of mine." His lips trailed from the crook of your neck to your cheeks as he mumbled "Is simply claiming that I got you first." He said nonchantly before finally kissing your lips.

Your tongue was connected with his. The kiss not being enough but sweet and gentle. Sadly you had to part away due to catching your breath as Chiskai did the same.

"We should go to bed." He stated bluntly, smirking at your whine "Expected something?"

"Kinda..." you pouted but sighed when he cupped your cheek "But we need rest as well."

"Surely, especially with a neat like the one we have."

"He is not a brat!" You giggled and he rolled his eyes at you, lifting you up by holding your thighs close to his waist "Stop that!"

"I will stop at the day he stops acting like a damn brat."

Bonus!

Your son entered teh kitchen and immediately smiled at seing his dad back to normal, coming to hug him unexpected and making you giggle at how Kai tensed at the sudden contact.

"Who are you imposter and what did you done to my son?" He growled down at the kid hugging his leg, smirking up at him "At least tell me you showered like I taught you."

"Pi!" Kaito chirped... the best immitation of what he had heard his dad saying yesterday as his father's eye twitched in anger and offense and you almost dropped your plate from laughter.

"Okay dearest. You're right, not a brat always." He glared down at the kid and shook his leg and tried to pry his son off from him but grunted in defeat "He is a pest."

"Kai!"

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scandeniall · 4 years

Text

we’re us

pairing: atsumu x f!reader

summary/warnings: after atsumu almost lost you he decides ts time to make things official. But he’s overly sweet and its weird. Thats not who you two are / mentions of near death, implied sex, hes grossly sweet for part of it, mentions of bad parents

a/n: this is a PART 2 to the rulers. a few of you asked and i decided to give us a happier ending than what we wre left with in rulers. (rulers is 12k words and gives the context to this so kinda impt!)

wc: 2k

“Would you fucking stop,” you scowl swatting at the hands on your waist as you stumbled into the office. You roll your eyes at the way your desk chair is pulled out for you. “No can do. You’re supposed to be taking it easy.” Atsumu replies ignoring the frown at him sitting in the desktop. His hand subconsciously takes yours stroking at the skin and you resist the urge to take your hand from him. He needed it.

It’d been three months since the incident and since you’d gone into a coma. You stayed in it for a little over a week. Atsumu remembered how he numbly took in the doctors diagnosis. Something about a complication from the surgery or maybe it was blood loss from the bullet wounds? Something about a seizure thus prompting your state. All the medical terminology confused him.

After he finally decided to visit three days later he came as often as he could. He assigned people like Oikawa to do press releases on his behalf. It was already hard enough having to hear events recounted over the news. He couldn’t be the one to talk about it.

“President of Yokohama (Y/L/N), (Y/F/N) caught in apparent shootout with parents among others. The 23 year old was rushed to the hospital by non other that Vice President Miya Atsumu. As of now it is known that (Y/N) has fallen into a combs and that Miya will be taking over. The voting families are likely to vote over a course of action within the upcoming days.”

One thing Atsumu made sure to do was to get your recording. You risked your life to get a confession out of your parents. A confession that they had plans to kill you. He sent the recording off and following their own minor recoveries they were promptly arrested. Trials took long and there’d be no way an official one would happen until you were ready, but nonetheless he was happy that both them and Terushima were out of your hairs.

The day you woke up Atsumu actually shed tears. It was something he denied and claimed that the hospital fumes were finally getting to him when Osamu teased him. But everyone knew better. He’d take your condition worse, a factor that even your little sister teased him on. “(Y/N’s) strong and a bad ass. She’ll be fine. Stop acting like a wimp” he couldn’t even scold the 14 year old for the word choice.

Even though the first face you made was a grimace, followed by confusion and agitation he couldn’t help but think you were beautiful. He stayed in the room as they took the feeding tube out, gagging himself at how gross it all seemed. He held your hand as you took sips of water all disoriented.

A few days after that you were able to go back home and he took you to his. Your sister had been staying there and there was no way he’d let you go back to neither your parents or your own now trashed house alone. He’d wheeled you out of the hospital demanding you to keep your head down at the flashing lights and journalists. He’d buckled you in like a child despite you rolling your eyes and complaining and driven you to his.

He made sure you took all your medications and attended your personal physical therapy sessions. A month in when you wanted to go back to work fully he refused, citing that until you were fine he was the one in charge. He could and would disobey your orders to keep you safe. “I swear once I’m fine I’m going to fucking fire you.” “How do you fire the family head sweetheart? Try again.”

Now two months later you were heading back into your office for the first time. With non other than your shadow practically attached to your hip. You watched as he animatedly recounted some events from his latest press conference and boring financial meetings as his thumb subconsciously rubbed circles into onto the back of your hand. Your hand was slightly sweaty but you resisted the urge to pull away. Ever since you’d found out that you technically died, Atsumu had been more touchy than normal.

“Hey Tsumu?”

The call of his name stopped him mid sentence as his eyes peered at yours with concern. He started questioning if you were ok or in pain and if it here time for your meds.

“Thank you. For everything. Stepping up, I know this isn’t easy for you, especially since it was so sudden. And for watching after my sister and me.”

“Well it is my job as VP. Ya know when ya can’t do your job. It’s annoying but-“ he chucked as you stood up and told him to shut up. His hands found your waist both as a way to stabilize you and to resume physical contact as you eased in between his legs. “You talk too fucking much,” you mumble arms locking around his neck.

“I was trying to be serious and thank you and here you are making me regret it.” You don’t miss the way his eyes glance at your lips as you talk. You continue playing with the ends of his hair as you talk. “I appreciate it a lot. Even if you are overbearing and annoying.”

“Yeah well, we’re us. And you know I’d take a bullet for ya”

“Too bad you didn’t take this one,” you muse using one hand to motion at your healing side. You smiled as his hands slipped under your sweatshirt to caress the scar.

“I wouldve.” He says the words without missing a beat while you frown. “Being sweet doesn’t suit you. Where’s asshole Atsumu.”

“I almost lost ya. I was the one who held ya in the backseat as you bled out. I had to get rid of the car. Couldn’t get the smell, stains or memories out. I was there when you flat lined (Y/N). Sorry if I cant act normal like the shit didn’t happen.”

“All the more reason to act like the man I fell in love with,” you shrug. “The non punctual asshole who doesn’t listen to half the shit i say. The smartass who cares for his friends and family more than he lets on. The one so committed to what he does that id never trust anyone else even a fraction as much. Life is short. Clearly,” you snort referencing your own situation.

“No point in being different. What’s done is done. Besides, we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us. With the trial and reformations and-“

“Ya just said you loved me.” Your face scrunched up at his smug one. His voice had a happy lilt to it. “If you didn’t know that by now you really are dumber than I thought. Pretty sure it’s been obvious.”

His reaction was to hop off the desk, this time his arms coming around you in a hug. “God, I’m so in love with ya.” The words came whispered in your ear and you couldn’t help but melt into the hug. “Good or this would’ve been really awkward.”

“Wait a fuckin’ second-“ you eyed him in confusion as the embrace ended you stepping back to cross your arms. “I said i was gonna confess first. Ya just had to mess things up. Take it back. I bet Samu that i would” You looked at him in disbelief. “On second thought-“

Your words are cut off by his hands pulling your hips into his. “Will you be my girlfriend. Let’s make it official.”

“What did i tell you about being sweet,” you scold the both of you leaning in your lips hoovering over each other. “Give me a few more weeks to worry about ya alright?” You nod hands locking around his neck. “Deal. And yes I’ll let you be my boyfriend.”

“Gonna ignore that for now,” before you could react he turns the two of you so that your back was against the desk. His lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he tells you to sit. Before he steps back eying you. “Can’t believe I almost lost this.”

The words are whispers to himself and you almost didn’t hear him as his hands trail up your thighs. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I’m literally in sweats. A far cry from how you usually see me” you tease leaning back to shift your weight into your palms. “Still the most beautiful woman in the world.” You ignore the warmth that blossoms within you opting to grab at his wrist. “I thought I said to stop being sweet.”

You thought you hear him say something about your deal it it’s quickly forgotten as he slots himself between your legs and roughly presses his lips against yours.

—-

A few months later

“Well it’s done. How d’ya feel.” Atsumu is the first to speak out his words filling the space within the car. “Like shit. But I’ll live.” You mutter honestly. “Ya want to take a few days off from the office?” His hand rubs comfortably up and down your thigh.

“And have you try and mess up my office. I’ll pass,” you sigh out, head coming to rest upon the headrest. “Sorry my taste is better than yours.” You flick your middle finger at him before closing your eyes. “Yeah well redecorate your own damn office. Oh wait- it’s not as nice as mine”

His laugh fills the car and you smile as his lips press against the back of your hand. The two of you sit in silence, the forming clouds outside seeming to match the conflict in your heart. “It’s just weird you know.” He nods in support.

“I know they tried to like kill me but— they were still my parents. They taught me everything I know.” A silence fills the car, Atsumu not really knowing what to say. “I hate that you’re so quiet these days.”

“I’ve lost at least 7 years of my life having to worry about ya through all this s-OW!” You roll your eyes as he rubs the arm you’ve just hit. He complained about you having a good arm before telling you to look at him.

“You’ll be fine. Ya got me and-“

“Is that supposed to be comforting?”

Shaking his head he continues,” and your sister and Granny. Our friends, and the whole city behind ya babe.”

You found yourself slowly nodding. You��re right,” you mutter more to yourself before leaning over the console to press a kiss on his cheek. Atsumu gives you a look before complaining. “That’s all I get. What a shitty thanks.”

You notice he slightly reclines his seat a smirk now on his face. “You’re definitely back to being annoying,” you scoff. “If you think I’m gonna ride you ride now you’ve lost it.”

“I’m just getting comfortable. What’s so bad about that. But what’s 1 kiss.” You ignore the way his hand creeps higher as you lean over the console. “It’s not even gonna be that if you don’t meet me halfway.” His eyes soften for a minute as he complied allowing your lips to connect. “Ya know what always makes me me feel better,” he mumbles lips against yours.

The hand that had been on your thought moved to cup your jaw. “If you say sex I’m gonna walk home,” you breathe out as he presses fluttering kisses along the side of your neck. He only laughs. “That and spending money. Let’s go out.”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine as his touch gets harsher and you can feel the beginnings of a pain in the ass bruise at the junction between your neck and shoulder. “Only if you’re buying.” That causes him to stop, his eyes catching yours. “Aw c’mon ya have more money than me.”

“It’s official. I hate you,” you deadpan pulling away to sit in your seat. “I’m just joking. Lighten up woulda,” he teases the two of you fastening your seatbelt. “Just drive already.”

“Hey, (Y/N). I love you”

“I love you too. Now I think I deserve a treat right?

a/n: well one day i may add on to this universe but for now my longest piece of work is complete. Are there things id do differently? absolutely but for a total of 14k words between the two pieces? IM PROUD. thank u if u read it ily. Untl the next celebration yall

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #hq imagines #atsumu fluff

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skinsharpenedteeth · 4 years

Text

kinktober 3

A/N: 3rd Kinktober piece. Smutty smut. Sex pollen, in heat, mate or die type fic so the normal dub con warning is there, but otherwise it’s Malex being dirty together. lol. hope you enjoy. Prompts filled: In Heat / Bondage / Multiple Orgasms. You can also check out this fic on AO3.

Michael came to slowly. The thing he noticed first was the grey concrete ceiling above him. He was in the bunker? He turned his head and noted the lamps and side tables to either side of the bed. Definitely not his bunker then. His mind felt like he was having to swim through honey to make simple deductions. Why was this place familiar? He pulled at his arms so he could prop himself up and met with resistance. Jerking his head to either side, he looked at his wrists and noted the sturdy leather cuffs around each one. He pulled his arm again, straining to see if there was any give in the restraint and found none. He tried to reach out with his mind, to access his telekinesis so he could undo the securing straps, but found he was having trouble focusing his power. A shuffle from across the room drew his attention and he saw Alex descending a ladder into the bunker with him.

“What the fuck, Alex? Where the hell am I? Why have you got me chained up like this?” Michael yelled, immediately enraged as he took in Alex’s resigned, determined look. It was his soldier face and Michael hated it because it usually meant he was about to be unreasonably logical and stubborn about something.

“You’re alright, Guerin. Max and Iz helped me get you down here. They had to knock you out. Apparently, Mr. Jones hit you with some alien powder and it made you go nuts. Kind of like the pollen that mutes your powers, but different. You were insensible they said, and they didn’t know how to handle you, so they brought you here. Apparently, I’m their top choice for babysitter. I’m sorry about the restraints, they thought it would be the safest bet until we had an idea what the powder would do to you long term.”

Alex had kept moving towards Michael as he talked. The lights around the room had taken on a shiny, haloed quality to them, like looking through the dark windshield of a car in the rain. The closer Alex got, the harder it became for Michael to think through what he was saying, he just felt… thirsty. Alex sat next to him on the bed, his voice coming in and out of focus as he continued musing about the possible effects the alien powder might have had. Michael’s joints ached like he needed to relieve some tension in his muscles that wasn’t there. He stretched against the mattress, fidgeting, and trying to get comfortable, pushing and pulling. He didn’t realize he was trying to get closer to Alex until he managed to press his hip to Alex’s where he sat. Alex stopped talking and looked down at where they were touching.

“Michael? You okay?” Alex asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he laid what was supposed to be a comforting hand on Michael’s chest. There was a sound like metal protesting against too much pressure and Michael shut his eyes as a blinding headache came over him.

“Michael!? Michael!” He heard Alex yelling his name from so close, but so far away. He didn’t know what was happening to him, what he needed, but it felt like his skin was going to burst open and pour out his insides if he didn’t get it. He felt a cool hand on his cheek, tapping slightly, and it was like someone had put out one small flame in the middle of a forest fire.

“Alex…” Michael moaned, canting his head into the touch on his cheek.

“Michael, I’m here. What do you need?” Alex asked, his voice sounding almost like it was coming from the other side of a tin can telephone.

“Touch me,” Michael cried, his voice breaking under the pain licking through his body.

“I am, Michael, I will,” Alex answered desperately, putting his other hand against Michael’s neck, smoothing it over all the skin he could reach.

“I need more, Alex. Please, so much more. It hurts,” Michael begged. He didn’t know how he could feel tears on his skin outside of all the other sensations he was having, but he knew he was legitimately crying.

“Okay, okay… let me think,” Alex said, keeping his hands on Michael’s face as he looked down Michael’s body. “Okay. I’m going to have to let go for a minute.”

“NO!” Michael yelled, body writhing against the sheets as he continued trying to push his way closer to Alex’s body.

“Just for a minute, Michael. I have to get undressed and… and grab some scissors.”

“Wait, wait, please, Alex, no. Don’t stop touching me, don’t stop, please. Alex, ALEX!” As soon as Alex’s hands left Michael’s face he was screaming and arching off the mattress. It felt like someone was twisting his guts and roasting him alive. He wasn’t aware of anything that Alex was doing. He had no concept of how long Alex was taking, only that it was too long. He was too far away from Michael and Michael needed him. He needed him like he was oxygen or water. He needed him now and not later.

“Hold on, Michael. I hope you’re not in love with any of these clothes you’re wearing,” Alex tried to joke and Michael heard the snip-snip-snip of scissors before cool air rushed over his skin. It was a relief, but only for a second before the flames inside of him started up again.

“Oh…” he heard Alex say, sounding like something had just been made very clear to him. Michael opened his eyes a fraction to stare at him, to see what had caused him to make that noise. Alex was staring down his body and Michael lifted his head, terrified of what he’d find. Was he missing a limb? Was he covered in wounds that made him feel like he was being grilled alive? What was…. Oh.

Michael was rock fucking hard. His cock was red and angry, hard enough to pound nails, and was dribbling precome onto his stomach like a leaky fucking faucet. Michael didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to react, because he hadn’t been aware he was hard until he looked down. Now that he knew, it was like that was all he could think about. He needed Alex to touch him, needed to feel him everywhere, needed to mark him up with his come and claim him.

“Wait- you need me to claim you or you want to claim me?” Alex asked, looking at him in confused shock. Apparently, Michael had said that last part out loud. Michael couldn’t explain, a fresh wave of heat, need, and pain rolled through him and he had to grit his teeth to keep from screaming again.

“Okay, okay. You seemed to do better when I was touching you. I’m going to get undressed and lay across you, try to get as much skin to skin contact as possible. We’ll see if that helps you enough to let you be able to talk to me,” Alex said in a rush, standing and stripping out of his clothes in record time. Michael barely had time to appreciate the expanse of tan skin and muscle exposed to him before Alex was climbing awkwardly over him and stretching out to cover him with his body. As soon as Alex’s weight settled, it was like Michael had gone from a car wreck to a bee sting in levels of pain. His mind cleared, his muscles began to relax, and he took great gulping breaths of air. He felt Alex’s hands on him, petting his neck and chest as Michael started to calm down.

“Is this working, Michael?” Alex asked, his face so close to Michael’s that he almost couldn’t focus his eyes on him. Alex pushed himself further up Michael’s body and pressed his cheek to Michael’s before repeating the question. The movement against Michael’s cock reminded him how hard he was and he moaned again, but this time in pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah it’s working. Fuck you feel good,” Michael commented as he found himself once again straining to touch more of Alex’s body. His hips hitched upwards under Alex’s weight as he struggled to get some more friction.

“Thanks,” Alex replied dryly. “Do you think you could answer some questions?”

Michael nodded weakly, eyes closing as he tried to concentrate on Alex’s words.

“What did you mean when you said you needed to ‘claim’ me?” Alex asked, voice low and serious. The word ‘claim’ sent a spark down Michael’s spine and he clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth would crack. He tried to sort through what his body was trying to tell him about what it was feelings and what it needed, but he could feel Alex’s cock starting to get hard from the friction of his movements underneath him and it shattered his concentration. His body was starting to heat up again and he whined as Alex pulled his hips back to stop Michael from focusing his attention where it didn’t belong.

“I don’t know, Alex! It just… it feels like I need to mark you. I’ve got so many urges right now just flooding through me. I want to fuck you, I want you to fuck me, I want to gag on your cock and have you paint me in your come, I want to mount you from behind like a fucking dog and just rail you for hours. I want you to smell like mine and taste like mine and I want to rub myself so deep into your skin, you’ll never wash me away. It’s… it feels so instinctual. It doesn’t feel logical or politically correct. I feel like I’m going to lose my fucking mind if I can’t keep touching you right now. It’s so hard to concentrate, Alex, because I need you to touch me,” Michael rushed the words out of him without considering what he was saying. “This isn’t like having blue balls, Alex. This is like being set on fire and electrocuted at the same time. Please touch me.”

“Oh, Michael,” Alex sighed, his voice sounding so sad. Michael knew it wasn’t fair to ask Alex to do this for him, to lay his hands on him when he was in such a new thing with someone else and Michael was barely free of Maria.

“Please Alex, I’m in so much pain. Just please,” Michael begged, voice beginning to go thick with desperation.

He waited for Alex’s move. He could feel the tiny puffs of his breath ghosting over the pulse point in his neck. Alex’s hands were rubbing up and down his arms like he was trying to soothe a spooked horse, slow and meditative. His lower back was starting to have that feeling like his muscles were trying to cramp. It wasn’t sharply painful like a Charlie horse, but more like a bone deep ache that pushed outwards. It was like the pain was between his bones and growing and there was no movement, no solace he could give himself from it. He needed Alex to agree to help him. He needed to come.

“Please…” he whispered, raising his head and laying a gentle kiss on Alex’s shoulder. His tongue sneaked out and he tasted the skin under his lips. Alex tasted clean and a little like salt. He felt Alex’s hands freeze on his biceps and Michael kissed him again, moving his lips up Alex’s shoulder to his neck. He pushed his power out on instinct, pressing down on Alex’s lower back to bring their hips back together so he could grind upwards against him, even as he sucked and bit at the most prominent muscle in Alex’s neck. A high-pitched, broken whine was his reward and Michael felt a possessive wave surge through him. He wanted to swallow that noise, wanted to eat it as his breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He let go of the flesh of Alex’s neck and tilted his head to suck Alex’s earlobe, teeth teasing the sensitive skin, before he let is fall from his mouth.

“I need you, Alex,” he whispered. He was answered with a whimper before Alex lifted his head and pushed his lips against Michael’s. It felt like ecstasy. Michael opened his mouth immediately, tongue snaking out to meet Alex’s in a series of hungry, biting kisses. Alex’s hands clenched around his upper arms and Michael felt his shift his body on top so that he could get some leverage between them and move his hips against Michael’s with purpose. On the first downward grind from Alex’s body, Michael felt his body’s tension ratchet up from 75% ready to blow to 99%.

“Fuck, Alex… just a little more. I’m so close,” Michael gasped after he wrenched back from Alex’s mouth to suck in some air. Alex groaned above him and Michael felt him pull his hand down between them. It took exactly one pull from Alex’s hand for Michael’s climax to start. He heard himself growling as he fucked himself through the sticky mess that had started coating Alex’s hand, riding the tide of relief. It felt like a cool blanket had been put over his skin. He was aware of Alex thrusting his hips against him still, his cock dragging through the cooling mess on his stomach and then with an almost pained grunt, adding to it. Michael wanted to taste it, wanted Alex to lick it off him and feed it to him with kisses, but he didn’t say anything. He let Alex collapse boneless on top of him and he reveled in the afterglow.

“Was that it?” he heard Alex croak next to his ear. Michael thought about it, catalogued the sensations of his body. He could still feel the fire of need, but it was banked for the moment and he could think clearly. He had no doubt it would return, but he had no idea how quickly. He shook his head and kissed Alex’s shoulder as something of an apology.

“I don’t think so. I think it’s more like I’m getting a quick breather. I can still feel whatever this is influencing me, it’s just like… like I’m getting a break. God, this feels so weird, Alex. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry this is happening to us. I… I know this isn’t what you want, I just.. I don’t know if I’d survive just gritting my teeth and trying to do without right now,” Michael babbled his apology, hoping Alex would forgive him someday.

“Guerin, it’s fine. It’s not a perfect situation, but it’s not the end of the world. If there’s one thing I know I can do for you confidently, it’s make you come your fucking brains out as many times as necessary,” Alex said, laughing weakly at his joke.

“You are really good at that. You make me stupid and keyed up. If you’re in the room on a normal day, all I can think about is how good you look naked, how much I miss the way our skin feels when we’re alone and sweaty and on round three…” Michael trailed off, recalling some of those times in his mind as he spoke.

“Guerin,” Alex spoke up, breaking his daydream. “You’re still hard.”

Michael swallowed and nodded. He’d started to feel the need building in him again.

“You don’t happen to have any lube in this sex dungeon, do you?” Michael asked in mock casualness, even as his hands flexed and he felt the ache in his joints starting up again, body writhing to try and stem the ache.

“Shit. Fuck. Okay. You’ll have to let me go upstairs ‘cause I didn’t expect to ever use this place as an actual sex dungeon. Do you think you can go ten minutes without me touching you?” Alex asked, nervously looking over his shoulder. Michael tried to think about it, but his brain was fogging fast and his cock was throbbing where it was trapped between his and Alex’s bodies. Regretfully, he shook his head.

“Maybe,” he gasped out, glad Alex hadn’t hesitated this time and had taken his cock in hand the moment after he registered his body had given and not his mouth. “Maybe if you go right after I come…maybe I can make it.”

Alex tightened his grip almost imperceptibly, but it was enough for Michael. He moaned, hips chasing the sensations of Alex’s hand on him as Alex pulled out all his favorite moves. He moved down Michael’s body with his mouth, lips closing over one of his nipples and making Michael cry out. He bit down gently and sucked at him, abusing the rosy bud with this tongue and teeth as he used his hand to push Michael closer and closer to another orgasm.

“God, Alex, your fucking mouth…” Michael moaned when he felt Alex release one and move over to the other. Once again, he found himself fighting against the wrist restraints. He wanted more. He wanted to encourage Alex to take that talented mouth just half a foot lower on his body and swallow him down. He wanted to hold him there, feel him gagging around his cock, his throat muscles squeezing and releasing him. The idea was hot, but he also knew that he wasn’t in control. So he didn’t ask Alex to go down on him, not yet. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had, he was quickly approaching another orgasm and Alex’s hand was doing a fine job of getting him there.

“Come on, Guerin. You’re so close, I can feel it. Come for me, baby, and I’ll go get some lube and we can really get each other dirty,” Alex encouraged him, wrist twisting on the down stroke and coaxing Michael to let go for the second time half an hour. It felt good, but it wasn’t as good as the first one. It didn’t feel like it would be enough for the next one.

Alex tentatively sat up, putting space between their torsos as he looked down at Michael speculatively. Michael was breathing harshly through his nose, but he could stand the separation.

“Go ahead. Go get the stuff now before it comes back,” he said, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to watch Alex walking away. Alex climbed off him gingerly and Michael could feel every inch that stretched between them as he quick stepped his way to the ladder and up to the main part of the cabin. Sweat broke out across his body almost as soon as he heard Alex moving around in the house above him. It didn’t feel like fire this time, but like pins and needles all over his skin that grew more intense as he waited. His cock had managed to soften slightly after the last orgasm, but he still felt anxious and needy. His skin felt absurdly sensitive and every slight shift in the air around him had him gritting his teeth. His mind tried to concentrate on his telekinesis again, seeing if he could work on the cuffs at his hands, but as with the first time, all he could manage was a brief nudge with his abilities before his concentration shattered.

“Alex,” he called, his voice sounding weak even to his own ears. He was so thirsty. His mouth felt like the Sahara and he just needed something to drink. He needed Alex whispering soft words of encouragement to him so he could keep coming until he could sleep. He just needed… Alex. And he could hear him moving around upstairs and wondered how long he’d been gone. Somewhere in his distracted brain he knew it hadn’t even been ten minutes yet, but his body felt touch-starved and bereft like it’d been ten years.

“Al-lex…” he whined into the air, hands and legs starting to thrash against the restraints. Why was he like this? What did he do to deserve this? Why wasn’t Alex here taking care of him?

“Just a sec, Guerin. I’m almost done up here,” Alex’s voice floated down from the upper floor. Michael thrashed harder, body trying to twist and break free. He wanted to be where Alex was. He needed him. Needed to touch him. Needed to be free to mark him. He still hadn’t claimed him. Alex was away from him unmarked, unsafe, not his. Not his, not his, not his.

“ALEX!” he screamed, visions of other men coming upon Alex and taking him in his head. He was tied up, he couldn’t protect him. He couldn’t defend his soulmate. He would die if he couldn’t see him soon, couldn’t make sure that he alright, make sure he was still his.

“Jesus, Michael, I’m here,” Alex responded, sounding a little impatient. Michael watched him climb down the ladder, each new few inches of skin revealed like balm to him. He had a bulky backpack slung over his shoulders that made him more careful with his movements as he descended.

As soon as he reached the bottom, he turned and started walking as quickly as he could towards Michael. He dropped the backpack onto the side of the bed and sat next to Michael, pressing his naked hip to Michael’s waist.

“You look strung out. Shit, I’m sorry I took so long,” Alex apologized as he unpacked his bag. Through clenched teeth and gently trembling muscles, Michael watched him put three bottles of Gatorade onto the nightstand. He also pulled out a frankly indecent sized bottle of personal lubricant that even through a heat haze Michael gave him a raised eyebrow over. “Shut up, it was a gift,” was all Alex could say about it, though he was grinning when he said it. Lastly, he pulled out a package of wet wipes, plopping them onto the nightstand near the Gatorade and promptly pulling one free of the package.

“This might be cold,” Alex warned him before carefully starting to clean off the mess on his stomach. Michael hissed in a breath against the coolness of the cloth. He’d wanted something cool earlier against his skin, but now that Alex was near him his temperature had risen again to the point where even if it was room temp, it was too cold for him to bear. Also, probably more worryingly, as Alex cleaned the old spunk off him his mind started to fog back over into primal need.

“Stop! Stop, Alex, fuck!” Michael managed to get out as the fire and pain returned, seeming to be pinpointed at the where Alex was cleaning him. He was panting against the feeling of pain that had come over him. Alex watched him in growing alarm and then looked down at the cloth in his hand.

“OH!” he exclaimed, tossing the cloth somewhere to the side of the bed. Michael couldn’t see and didn’t care. He watched Alex quickly bend down and start stripping off his prosthetic and liner, his movement practiced and quick, before he turned and straddle Michael’s hips. He immediately covered Michael’s body with as much of his as he could. “Better?”

“Nooooo,” Michael cried piteously. “Need more. Please, Alex, let me have a hand. I’ll show you, please?”

“Non-negotiable right now, Guerin. I can give you your feet back, but that’s about all I’m willing to compromise on. You’re not in control of yourself,” Alex said, immovable in his decision. Michael whined, pressing his head back into the mattress and arching against Alex’s body.

“Please, Alex. I need to be in you. Or you in me. Something. Hand job won’t do it this time, please,” Michael begged.

“69?” Alex offered, pressing his lips to Michael’s cheek and jaw in apology. It wasn’t what Michael had meant, but he’d take it. He’d take anything Alex would give him. He swallowed and nodded quickly. Alex maneuvered his body over Michaels, knees bracketing Michael’s head with his cock swinging enticingly in front of Michael’s face. Michael looked down between their bodies and watched Alex reach down to grab himself and angle his cock towards Michael’s mouth. Michael opened his mouth and licked at the tip with a broad, flat tongue a few times before closing his lips around Alex’s flesh and beginning to move his mouth over the flesh. The angle was strange and he felt like he was only doing half the job without the use of his hands, but it felt amazing to have Alex in his mouth, dick hardening further against his tongue as he sucked and laved at the hot flesh. Alex indulged in a few seconds of just letting Michael work on him before letting his hand fall away, trusting that Michael could keep him in his mouth.

Michael was back to painfully turned on and the first touch of Alex’s tongue had him thrusting up in reflex. He made an apologetic hum through his mouthful of Alex and was rewarded with Alex’s own reflexive hip jerk. He wished he could communicate to Alex that he wanted more of that kind of attention. Alex could fuck his face like this, take what he wanted from Michael, and Michael would let him do so happily. He gathered what little bit of his concentration he could gather with Alex’s mouth working his shaft like his favorite flavored popsicle and used it to once again push down on Alex’s hips, encouraging him to give in to his natural urge to hump forward against the pressure of Michael’s tongue and lips.

“Guerin!” Alex gasped, mouth popping off Michael’s cock as he fought the unseen force pushing at his hips. “Stop. I can’t… there’s no way for you to tap out if it’s too much.”

Michael pulled his head back and let Alex’s cock pull free from his mouth so he could answer.

“It’ll be fine, Alex. I just want to feel like you’re getting something from this. I can’t… do much… at this angle with just my mouth and no hands,” Michael explained, frustration evident in his voice.

“You were doing fine, Michael,” Alex replied, voice going a little soft in affectionate exasperation.

“That is not good enough, Alex. If I’m going to be giving a mediocre blowjob to someone, it isn’t going to be you!” Michael said a little insulted and looking at Alex like he was insane.

“Oh my God, Michael,” Alex replied, leaning his forehead on Michael’s hip while he laughed weakly. He tipped his body sideways and laid half on top of Michael, curling his leg over Michael’s chest and propping his head up on his hand as he looked down towards him still grinning. “You must be feeling better because I have no clue how else you would be worried about my pleasure right now. I mean, would you give the same consideration to Max?”

Michael gagged. It was such an immediate reaction to thinking about Max in any sort of sexual sense that his body responded before he was even sure he’d fully comprehended the question. His reaction did give him a moment of clarity as he quickly filtered through his body’s reaction to literally anyone else being here with him for this.

“I think…. I think that my reaction is based on my relationship with you? Like… obviously I have no clue how to test the theory and I don’t want you getting ideas to play scientist like Liz, but…” Michael paused, trying to ride a spike of need that traveled through him. Alex seemed to get the hint and started moving his hand while watching Michael’s reaction. Michael nodded and took a couple deep breaths. It wasn’t enough to get him off, but Alex’s slow, steady strokes kept him from dissolving back into mindless need and pain. “…so, as I was saying… If I think about Max being here, I don’t feel horny. I feel like getting into a fucking fight, because he is not the boss of me no matter what he thinks. Ugh. Sanctimonious jackass. And if I think of Isabel I just feel… protective? Like, I definitely don’t want to see her naked or to touch her sexually. She’s my sister. I just want to keep her safe. Maria? Eh… it’s more indecisive. Valenti? Fuck that dude, I will fight him also. I’d probably fight Rosa also. I feel like this stuff just like… takes the noise out of my feelings for people. It’s like… whatever my gut instinct is? I don’t know, I just… I wouldn’t hurt you. I would never hurt you like this.”

Alex looked like he was thinking over what Michael had said, his eyes fixed on some point across the room as he sorted out what Michael had been saying. He didn’t slacken his grip or stop moving his hand, which Michael was profoundly grateful for since it was seeming to take some of the edge off. He didn’t know how much longer it would work, but for now it was working.

“Max had said, you seemed to be attacking him after the powder hit. You wouldn’t stop trying to hit him, and you kept pushing Isabel away like you thought Max was the enemy…” he mused, looking up towards Michael’s eyes again. “Lot of unresolved hostility with Max?”

Michael bit his lip before answering.

“Probably more than I’m comfortable admitting to myself right now,” he answered, suddenly wishing they were talking about anything else but his issues with Max. Maybe Alex picked up on it because he just hummed in understand before he leaned over, and with a casualness that Michael didn’t know one could have in such a situation, took Michael back into his mouth with probably the dirtiest slurp he’d ever witnessed outside of porn. Stars collided behind Michael’s eyes at the unexpected sensation and he let out a strangled moan at the sudden hot-wet-tight pressure surrounding his cock.

“Al-lex! Shit,” he gasped out when he could. Alex kept his mouth and tongue moving over him, hand following and keying Michael’s voice into the higher notes. Alex was right, of course; he was feeling better. His head was starting to feel clearer and he with a gentle push he found that he could unlatch one of his ankles. He had to take a breather afterwards, had to lay back and simply enjoy the feeling of Alex’s mouth on him, but then he gathered his strength and unlatched the other ankle. He tried to keep his legs still, tried not to let on to Alex that he was able to use his powers much more than he had on him earlier. He wanted his fucking hands. He wanted to hold Alex down and remind him how good he was at blow jobs… and eating ass… and pretty much every sexual thing he could possibly do to the man with his willing participation.

Michael got momentarily distracted from his goal with Alex maneuvered back to hovering over him so he could deep throat Michael’s cock. The sensation was beyond explanation to him and he was sure it was about to be over for him until Alex, like an absolute asshole, squeezed him with a thumb over his frenulum seconds before he was going to finish and stopped his fucking orgasm.

“You motherfucker…” Michael coughed out before leaning his head back and groaning in frustration. He looked back and saw Alex grinning back up at him, looking smug and completely unrepentant.

“You didn’t seem ready,” was all he said before releasing him. Michael rolled his eyes. Alex started to climb off him then and Michael watched him in horror.

“Where are you going?” he asked, nervous about the tingling that had already started back in his nerve endings as soon as Alex wasn’t touching him.

“Nowhere. Chill, I think I’ve got a handle on this. I’m getting some lube,” Alex explained, reaching over towards the nightstand. His hand bypassed the lube, however, and he grabbed a bottle of Gatorade, uncapping it and taking three long swallows before offering it to Michael. It was weird trying to drink while laying down without hands or the ability to roll to his side, but they managed it without too much of it rolling down his cheek into his hair. Alex recapped the Gatorade and grabbed the lube bottle.

“What’s your plan?” Michael asked, eying the bottle of lube in both apprehension and anticipation. It was, after all, a lot of lube. Alex smiled at him softly and leant over, pressing a kiss against his lips before answering.

“Obviously, I’m going to fuck you. And then I figure you’re going to fuck me. And if we do it well enough, I’m pretty sure this is going to wear off and we can have a fucking nap together. Then you can panic and formulate a proper response as to why the fuck you left the Pony during my obvious public declaration of love. Especially since apparently after a hit with some weird alien emotional baggage eraser, you admit to me that I’m the only person you want to ‘claim’,” Alex finished, squirting lube into his hand and giving Michael a look.

“Shit,” Michael mumbled, overwhelmed by Alex’s little speech and his observation.

“Shh… you’ve got at least two more orgasms to go and a nap before you have to tell me you’re not going to pull anything like that ever again on me.”

Michael swallowed and nodded mutely. Alex watched him and smiled, before giving him another quick kiss and scooting down the bed. Michael felt pretty sure this was the best thing to ever happen to him.

#malex fic #malex #kinktober 2020 #kinktober #rnm fic #roswell nm #michael guerin #alex manes

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stardancerluv · 4 years

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At War

Part 2

Summary: Now we see Roman’s view on the last month.

Arthur’s Note: Last chapter we saw how Reader felt in the last morning. Now, we see it through Roman’s eyes. Mentions of voilence.

This last month had been incredibly hard for him. A crime wave led by a bunch of ruthless women who came to Gotham. He mused that if they wanted to play in the deep end of the crime world he’d treat them like anyone else.

In doing so, it was harder then he thought it would be. Until they showed up, he easily managed those he usually ran across in Gotham.

He enjoyed taking care of you, his girl. It was his job to protect you and take care of anything you needed or wanted. That even meant taking care of her when germs would riddle her sweet, soft body and made you sick. He hated germs. That was why he wore gloves.

If he was being honest, none of this ever concerned him. All he had ever cared about was whether his club served the best food and liquor in Gotham, whether his tailor had a new suit ready for him to pick up or which cute piece of ass would get him off on any given night.

You walked in and all of a sudden he cared about you. He wanted to be better, to do better. If Gotham was going to be his, he wanted you his girl to be happy.

So when this new crime syndicate of sorts came to Gotham and it was all these women, he had to readjust his mind set. He had known for years how unpredictable Harley could be or how lethal Poison Ivy was or how stealthy Cat-woman was but these women were different.

It was as if someone put those three into a martini shaker and added god-forbid dashes of him; spoonfuls of Two-Face, sprinkles of Penguin and slices of Victor then they shook it hard.

These last few weeks as he dealt with them cost him many long nights filled with attempted negotiations, he had lost a few of his false faces. What had pleased him, was that he and his men had taken the lives of some of her girls as well.

It all left him tired and missing you. This particular morning, he come home as the sun began to rise again.

He was supposed to meet the ring leader at the docks. Standing there and waiting, it had been too quiet. Despite, Victor and his men canvassing their own territory, they had not found her second in command. She had crouched in the shadows, waiting for the right moment.

It had been too quiet. At the last minute, he saw her shadow move along the floor before him. Looking up, he saw as she leapt down at him. He had managed to sidestep her. She had recovered easily and sprang at him.

She had thought he was just a pretty face in a suit. He had his empire and you to live for. Their scuffle lasted longer then he liked.

At one point, he had not dodged her knuckle duster punch to his side or the disgusting kiss she planted on his face as he recovered from being winded. Seeing her relax he grabbed her and threw her off him. By doing so he avoided the blade she pulled out of one of her boots.

When she landed, the sickening crunch of her hip and the scream that follow made him smile. Her leader finally had come out of the shadows and they agreed to meet face to face.

As his driver took him back to the penthouse, he would wait till he was rested and showered but he would be dishing out a punishment. Someone would pay for letting her slip in. He could have been killed and that it did not sit well with him.

So bruised and achy with the smudge of lipstick and the scent of her cheap perfume lingered. Hobbling down the hall, he leaned painfully in the doorway to watch you sleep.

Shuffling to his office, he tore off his gloves. With a groan, he loosened his belt then unbuttoned and opened his suit jacket. Stretching out on the sofa, he rubbed his temples. Later, today he would hire a masseuse. He barely closed his eyes, when he fell fast asleep.

Somewhere in his sleep, he could have sworn he felt your gentle touch. He craved it. The sensation was so strong that he woke up.

Startling, awake he looked around and found himself still on the sofa. You were nowhere to be scene. His head throbbed horribly. He hated that he could still smell her cheap perfume and dirt from the docks. He needed a long, hot shower.

As he heard water running, his lips twitched upward, you must be awake. Groaning and gritting his teeth and he got up.

Refastening, his belt he went over to his desk. Opening the second drawer, not the third drawer of his desk he put on a fresh layer of cologne. His lip wrinkled in disgust. He could still smell that cheap perfume. He spritzed on a second layer.

That’s when he remembered. He took out his handkerchief, snapping it open he rubbed off the greasy residue of the lipstick. Seeing how the lipstick lingered, he dropped the stained and ruined handkerchief.

With the idea of seeing you, he made it easily to the master bath. He watched as you put some toothpaste on your brush. He loved how your eyelashes laid on your cheeks as you brushed your teeth. A cord of yearning, pulled him the rest of the way to you. He slipped his arms around. You were so soft and warm. You smelled so fucking wonderful. He finally didn’t smell the docks or that cheap perfume.

He heard a sound pour from your lips that he had never heard before and then you dropped your toothbrush. Holding you closer and moving with you, he picked up your toothbrush from the counter.

“My poor, sweet baby. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He managed to say despite his mouth feeling horribly dry. Sighing, he closed his eyes and pressed a kiss against your soft throat. “I just couldn’t wait any longer to have my arms around you.” He whispered and handed you back your toothbrush.

Watching your reflection, he noticed your nose twitch. The second spritz had been too much, he chuckled. He has never been on to put on his cologne or aftershave heavily. “I didn’t want to come to you smelling of the docks and what I had to take care of last night. Too much?” His eyes, he smirked.

As you began to brush your teeth, he just couldn’t resist, tracing the gentle curve of your cheek with his nose. You smelled and felt so wonderful.

Though, it did not escape him that you were still tense in his arms. “Daddy’s home baby. Relax.” He whispered in your ear. Then he pressed a kiss onto your jaw.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @top-rumbelle-fan @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @rosionis @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @pooshnulooshnu @speedypartyducksuitcase @blondekel77 @corey-clown @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 4 years

Photo

Happy | Poe Dameron

✦ pairing — Poe Dameron x Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 3.6k

✦ request — can I request one where reader used to date Ben in secret and then she joins the resistance and starts dating Poe? And then Rey brings Ben back to the resistance instead of him dying in tros and tried to get her back so poe gets jealous but she cant forgive ben and doesn’t love him anymore?

✦ warnings — angst, jealousy, fluff, sexual innuendos.

✦ gif credit

☆︎・・・・・☆︎・・・・・☆︎・・・・・☆︎

You felt someone’s stare, heavy and piercing from afar. Unable to turn around for you were speaking to General Organa, you rolled your healthy shoulder.

“Who’s that?” Rey asked, pointing at the bandaged arm Poe had just observed.

He instinctively smiled. “That’s (Y/N), our only diplomat left.”

Rey hummed, watching you with more attention now. Your form was unmistakable, your profile hadn’t changed much although your mannerisms had — you stood with your head held up high now, with an amazing posture if she may say so herself.

“She could help us!”

“She already does,” he pointed out. “She’s been part of The Resistance for years now.”

“No, no. I’ve seen Kylo’s mind, she’s always there. They love each other deeply. Poe,” Rey turned really serious, “she could end this war and bring him to the light.”

He still remembered the first time he saw you, no long after he joined and was made Commander. Poe had been pacing, impatient to get some news already, in Leia’s office.

You had arrived, annoyed, and snapping at your protocol droid for not shutting up. Then he had ruined it furthermore by ogling at you and blocking your way into the room.

In his defense, the General hadn’t told him the diplomat would stunt him with their beauty. She had scolded him for not letting you in, stifling a laugh when he took a chair out for you to sit.

Poe was captivated by you when he heard you complain about The New Republic. They were refusing to see The First Order as a threat which you qualified as moronic and delusional — he agreed wholeheartedly.

The admission of having insulted someone had never been so attractive to him until Leia asked you if the reason why Lonno Desa refused to maintain talks with you was that you insulted him and you admitted, “not to his face.”

As Snap liked to say, he was smitten. Poe Dameron, the best pilot in the galaxy and the biggest flirt in the system, was smitten for someone who had turned him down on several occasions.

He knew he wasn’t entitled to anything — hell, he appreciated that you hadn’t led him on! But hearing you say you weren’t the relationship type broke his heart. It felt extremely personal, almost like an attack on his ability to be the right person for someone.

And now Rey was telling him you were in love with someone else.

Fuck.

Leia was against the idea of telling you about it, you had the right to continue your life the way you liked it. The more Rey insisted that you weren’t happy without Ren, the worse Poe’s chest tightened.

Then you entered the room, asking if you could help with anything and he lost it. Poe stormed out of there, glaring at anyone who tried to approach him as he made his way across the hangar. He didn’t know why he was so angry, but he felt as though rage was consuming him. His skin was hot, breath ragged.

Wandering around the jungle had always calmed him. It reminded him of home, of those afternoons he spent with his mom, learning how to pilot from the best. He missed her the most when he lost control of his emotions, when he felt again like that little boy scared of his parents never coming back.

He had experienced a similar fear hours before. You were only alive because you left Hosnian Prime earlier than you should have had. And now his newest friend was unconscious in the infirmary while you were talked into going back to your ex-boyfriend.

He had been sure you liked him, there was no other explanation for the way you stared at him and your gentle tone when you spoke to him. Poe had accepted your friendship gladly, he loved spending time with you whenever the two of you were available and seeing the worry leave your features when he came back from a mission. But friends didn’t stare longingly at each other from across every room, friends were never asked how long had they been dating when one reminded the other they needed to eat or get some sleep.

Confusion and anger were a bad combination, and there he was drowning in both of them.

“That was a little rude, Commander.”

Poe jumped to his feet upon hearing your voice. You looked at your surroundings, making sure there wasn’t a creature lurking in.

The aliveness of D’Qar terrified you, how untamed it was in competition to back in Chandrila where the gentle sounds of the lake made calm reign over the chaos of its citizens. You didn’t dislike it per se, but it was a taste you were still in the process of acquiring.

“I just needed some fresh air,” he explained, sitting back on the thick log. You were still staring at the tree to your right, presumably in thought.

“You know,” you mused, “I used to say that when I was a teen. I would visit Lake Sah'ot, sit in front of it, and stare at the crystal clear water with the excuse that I needed fresh air.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re not a better liar than teenage me, and she was embarrassingly bad.”

“I feel furious,” he confessed. “I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I wanted to calm down.”

His confession prompted you to take your eyes off the greenery to look at him. Poe’s head hung down as he fixed his eyes on his boots.

“You’re alive, Poe. That’s normal.”

“The reason behind it is the problem.”

“Fix it.”

He didn’t have to gaze at you to know you had said it with a shrug. You always made things sound easy, maybe it was how used you were to convince people to do what you deemed appropriate.

“Can I ask you something?”

You stepped closer to him, taking a seat on the same lodge he was resting on. “Anything.”

“Are you in love with Kylo Ren?”

A long sigh escaped you. “I’ve never met him.”

“Rey said you knew him as a teen.”

“He wasn’t Kylo Ren back then,” you clarified. The distinction was important for you, for your morals, for your pride, for your heart.

Laying on the grass, hand laced with his, you had asked Ben, “will you miss me?” with the hopes the inquiry would make him change his mind. You knew it wasn’t an easy thing to do, that he actually wanted to stay home, but every option you had given him he had ignored.

You were ready to leave your life behind for him. He had the force and you, what else could he need? The Galaxy was so vast you were sure the two of you could find the perfect planet to hide.

Ben however didn’t answer the question, deflecting by reminding you it wasn’t his choice. There was a wave of underlying anger in his tone that scared you, it had never sounded so deep.

Seeing him leave had been heartbreaking. His promise of keeping contact with you had been the only flickering hope you had, one that never ignited back.

You knew you had lost him no longer after. Oh, teenage love, naive and raw with no way to break the inevitable fall. His promise had never meant to be kept, but you had found said truth too many sleepless nights later, eyes brimmed with tears and disappointment in yourself bubbling up inside your chest.

When Leia gave you the news of his new identity, you didn’t know how to react. One thing was being left behind and another was your first love giving in to what his family had been fighting against for years. Ben betrayed everything he had sworn to love, destroying lives and dreams as mere collateral damage.

“Just… answer the question. Please.”

“I am not.”

“She said you’re not happy.”

She was right, you weren’t. You were fighting against everything you were feeling, things you had once assumed you had already experienced.

It had been cruel, you had wondered if the stars hated you, if there was something in you that had pushed Ben to choose the dark side. And when you started to think you would never go through that anguish again, you met Poe.

There were differences, he would never fall to the dark side, you were sure of that, Poe would rather die than give in to the wishes of an oppressing organization. But you were still you, the first relationship you had was an utter disaster and every time you had tried with someone else hadn’t been too contrasting.

Rejecting him had been painful from the beginning. Having a man so handsome and charming, so brave and dedicated, interested in you after having to put up with the worst kind of men you could ever imagine to exist, sounded too good to be true.

Poe never tried to pressure you into accepting to date him. He would ask if you had changed your mind when he caught you staring for too long. You had wanted to say yes really badly, but it wasn’t right — you weren’t ready to experience heartbreak again, to ruin another person.

You felt lonely, of course you did. Every time you saw him you wondered how it would be like to wake up beside him, hold his hand and play with his curls, to be held by him, to be his and for him to be yours.

“Are you happy?”

Poe turned to his left, where you were sitting. Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t think anyone is happy when we’re at war.”

You had to agree with that. “Then why would my unhappiness be caused by an ex-lover?”

“Rey—“

Interrupting him, you told him something you hadn’t planned to, “I know what she saw, but she only saw his version — mine’s different. I am not suffering because of him.”

“I’m jealous.”

“I know.”

“Is it bad that I want you to suffer for me?”

The question sounded cruel which he hadn’t intended. He just wanted to be in your mind like you were in his. He wanted you to have vivid dreams about him and to fantasize of him only to become disappointed because you didn’t have him. He wanted you to want to have him, that was all.

“You know I already do.”

But Poe didn’t know anything anymore. He wouldn’t hold against you a past relationship, what kind of person did that? But he did hold against you the adamancy on pushing him away when now you said to be suffering because of him.

“Do I?” He cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve turned me down hundreds of times.”

You nodded, wetting your lips. “And it makes me suffer. Those two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” he huffed.

Resting your hand on his shoulder, you leaned forward. As you left a kiss on his cheek, you murmured an apology. Poe turned his face, lips brushing yours as his eyelashes batted against yours — you didn’t move, staring at him while trying to fight the urge to kiss him.

It was a battle you would have never won, first because you didn’t want to and second of all because Poe knew you well enough to know you were about to pull away so he kissed you before you could do it.

To his delight, you kissed back immediately. His arm snaked around your middle, pulling you flush on his side while his free hand held your face. Sliding your healthy hand toward his farthest shoulder, you tilted your head to kiss him deeper.

Slowly, you parted from him, breathing in his own harsh breath as he inhaled and exhaled on your face. You expected Poe to say something, but he only kissed you again.

“This is the worst moment to say this,” you mumbled against his lips, “but I have to make a holo call in a few minutes.”

He whined. “Will you pay attention to me later?” His lips caressed yours as he said it.

You gave him another kiss, short and sweet. “We’ll see.”

With another whine, he stood up, his arm still around you as you did the same. The two of you walked in silence toward the base, him finding adorable how weary you were of your surroundings.

Rey tried to talk to you again, you could see the desperation in her eyes. Poe tightened his arm on your waist, but you slid off his grasp momentarily. Assuring him you wouldn’t take too long, you pulled Rey to the side.

Giving explanations wasn’t something you were used to, but this was a war we were talking about. So you told her your reasons behind not getting near Kylo, and although disappointed she respected them.

☆︎・・・・・☆︎・・・・・☆︎・・・・・☆︎

You ran into his arms, forgetting his rank and the fact that you weren’t alone. Poe buried his face in the crook of your neck, hugging you the tightest he had ever done.

Keeping the tears in was a challenge. You had thought you wouldn’t see him again for a moment, that you would have to live without his stupid jokes and his bright smile. You wouldn’t have been able to take it.

But he was there, kissing your forehead and reminding you everything would be okay from now on. The First Order was gone and Palpatine was dead.

You assumed Rey was staring, the intensity of the first time she looked at you almost made you part from Poe and ask what was wrong. Almost. Poe didn’t let you move, trapping you into his arms.

Complaining would be foolish, his hugs were your favorite. Everything about Poe could be cataloged as your favorite, from his kisses to his sense of duty.

You only parted from Poe to hug Finn who reminded you he was there too by kissing your hair. You had grown to see him as a brother in the past year, to proudly watch his progress and his now unwavering belief in the cause.

As you moved to then hug Rey, you froze. Beside her, the face you had expected to never see again smiled softly at you.

Frowning, you cleared your throat to politely say, “I’m sorry for your loss, Ren.”

Kylo opened his mouth to thank you, until he realized you hadn’t called him by his name. “It’s Ben, actually.”

“Noted.”

Finn shrugged when you stared at him in search for an explanation, Poe didn’t even meet your eyes. Your boyfriend started cleaning BB-8 in the middle of the hangar, humming as the droid beeped quietly.

The consequent three days felt way longer, you had assumed a week and a half passed due to how exhausted you were. Poe was constantly in a bad mood, fighting with Rey over little things and ranting about it to you.

His attitude made you regret giving up your individual quarters at times. You loved sharing everything with him and wouldn’t change him for the entire galaxy, but you were really, reaaaaaaally tired.

“Babe,” you interrupted his complaining. “Why don’t you take a day off? Just one.”

He frantically shook his head, as if the idea of having a good night of sleep was heinous. “There are a lot of things to do, darling. And not enough time.”

“We’re not at war anymore,” you reminded him.

Something crossed his eyes. Poe rolled on the bed to lay on his side, draping his arm over your belly to pull you closer. “Why don’t we talk about something else, gorgeous?”

Facing him, you felt the frustration leave your system. Poe always looked at you with too much devotion, his expression was neutral yet his eyes were shining — you had never seen anything prettier.

☆︎・・・・・☆︎・・・・・☆︎・・・・・☆︎

Waking up next to him was a dream all on itself, his messy curls brushing your arm and his warm body burning yours up — both literally and metaphorically.

Never had you felt more at peace nor happier than in Poe’s arms. At times you felt as though nothing else but him existed — you were positive the past year or so would have been unbearable without him. He was everything you had, and for once it was enough — every fear and insecurity had slowly been erased, between a few fights due to his recklessness and your stubbornness but nothing a long conversation wouldn’t fix.

All those doubts of losing his valuable friendship vanished a few months into the relationship. Now your conversations were longer, intimacy functioned at every level, his jokes were funnier and dirtier. You were happy, Poe made you happy.

You would have loved to stay in bed cuddling, but between your duties and his, It didn’t sound realistic. Soon you would be able to, if everything went according to plan and the survivors from The New Republic accepted to hear him and Finn out; you weren’t sure what their entire plan was made of, but you trusted them.

Rey and Rose joined you for lunch, exchanging looks every few minutes. The dining hall was almost empty, you didn’t have any excuse to ignore their antics.

“Is there something you need to tell me?”

Biting her bottom lip, Rey nodded. “I talked to Finn, but… look, Poe is taking it a little too far.”

“A little too far with what?”

Rose started playing with her glass, avoiding looking at either you or Rey in case the topic sparked a fight. She hated being in the middle, and as much as she understood you often took Poe’s side because he was your boyfriend, she was on Rey’s side this time.

Poe smiled brightly as you walked toward him, angling his arm for you to fit against his side. Not wanting to cause a scene, you hugged him by the waist with an arm and whispered in his ear that you needed to talk to him.

You followed him to his and Finn’s office, keeping your mouth shut although you were about to lose control.

He took his jacket off, reaching for your hips. You placed your hands on his chest, he looked as good as ever, but you weren’t there to fuck him.

You went straight to the point, “Why did you make Ben a janitor?”

Oh, so he was Ben again, huh. Poe shrugged. “He has to start somewhere.”

“Poe…”

He removed his hands off your hips, opting for crossing his arms against his chest. “Why do you care so much?”

Sliding your hands down his torso to free them from the tight grip of his forearms, you deadpanned, “Because there are protocols for these kinds of situations.”

“He’s a war criminal.”

“And there’s a protocol for that,” you repeated, lifting your eyebrows.

His first mistake was stuttering, “T—the protocol can’t be followed right now.” His second mistake was forgetting you knew more about those things than him. “When we re-establish the New Republic—“

“Do you really want to make those mistakes again?”

“No, and that’s not the point, you know it.”

“You’re being petty, that’s the point.”

“He should be punished.”

“Punished by cleaning the base, that will teach him!”

“Keeps him busy.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s Leia’s son.”

“And your ex-boyfriend,” Poe gritted. There it was, the real problem. He had seen the idiot, trying to spark conversation with you and asking about your family.

How dare he ask when you had lost many loved ones because of him? And why weren’t you furious?

Pursing your lips as your shoulders dropped, you grabbed him by the neck. “I don’t care about him, we’ve talked about that.”

“What if he wins you back?” Poe wondered out loud, not really meaning to do it.

Dropping your hands to his forearms, you made him uncross his arms. Guiding his palms to your back, not withdrawing yours until his touch turned firm, you leaned forward.

You found astounding how often you regretted not having started dating him earlier but this time was different, it wasn’t only regret but shame. If you had, he wouldn’t be so stressed and in consequence you wouldn’t have to put up with people telling you to calm him down or talk him out of things.

“I love you.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “Only you.”

Closing his eyes, he leaned into your touch. “I don’t want to lose you, much less to him.”

You kissed him. “You won’t.”

“Never, ever?”

“Nope,” you popped the p. “You’re stuck with me, General.”

You knew what being called by his rank did to him. Poe smirked, kissing you more heavily than you had kissed him as he turned both of you around, trapping you between his torso and the desk.

His tongue slipped inside your mouth only for you to suck on it, moaning as his hands came up to cup your breasts. His fingers worked quickly in undoing the buttons of your shirt as he dragged his lips down to your neck, sucking gently on your skin.

The doors slid open. “Hey, P— oh, man, not again!”

You turned your head to the side while Poe lifted his face off your chest in order to look at the doorway, where an annoyed Finn was glaring at both of you. Poe blocked the view as you buttoned your shirt back up, asking Finn if he needed anything.

“For you two to not have sex there, first of all. It’s my desk too!”

You gave Finn a sheepish smile before half-heartedly apologizing. “I will leave you two to talk about important matters.”

As you left the office, you could hear Poe complaining about Finn’s awful timing.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x plus size reader #plus size reader #plus size fanfiction #poe dameron #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x plus size reader

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isobel-thorm · 4 years

Text

@fluttyseed tagged me a couple of days ago to do this so 👀👀

What is your most favourite part/scene/dialogue - whatever… from FC5?

I’m a bit all over the place with this.

As far as scene goes, hands down, The Confession. It’s no secret that I love John the most out of the siblings and the fact that he finally got the full spotlight and was so delightfully insane was fantastic. Also, the first time I played this game my Enemies to Lovers trope loving ass, who was going off of the misguided assumption that the devs were implying John was gonna join the Resistance at some point, was sort of grasping at straws for a while about John and Rook’s dynamic (I hadn’t heard Sharky and Addie’s comments about said dynamic) and how you could build off of this fic wise. And then John’s actual, canon wandering eyes had me losing it because a game finally delivered on a villain being into the hero, no fanfic/2011-era Tumblr shipper musings required, and I basically sold my soul to the game then and there.

For favorite dialogue, basically for the reasons listed, all of the innuendo-ey, loaded hings out of John’s mouth: “if these walls could talk... or more accurately scream.” Also dogfight stuff you only hear if the game is working 300% properly- “look at you, all the will, all the tenacity, such a WASTE!” and “we could’ve made something, but you THREW IT AWAY!” both took me out at the knees. Also his generally petty stuff during the fight “I see you”, “heads up”, etc. He’s a bitch and I love him.

Sharky’s Fast and Furious rambling will always have a special place in my heart because its so fucking cute.

I guess this is half dialogue, half scene, but during the uuuhhh Final Trial where Jacob pops up into the hallucination part and has that little, half-second long shit eating grin before he nudges the gun down? Fantastic. I can’t stand Jacob but GOD was that not one of the best parts of this entire game because again, delightfully evil.

And then there’s the random NPCs with “I think the Sheriff thinks of himself as your dad” bc Sheriff Dad is best dad.

Tagging: @amistrio @teamhawkeye @jackalopestride @tomexraider @faithchel @risenlucifer @dep-yo-tee uuhhh who else are the new-ish people who haven’t been tagged yet??? I cant think, its too late for thinking. If you wanna answer the question, boom, I tagged you. Go answer so I can see it!!

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typewriterghcst · 3 years

Text

Title: Comme Il Faut

Rating: Gish, but there is a. uh. Suggestive Joke right before the cut

Fandom: The Cat Returns

Characters: a younger Cat King and Natori

Summary: He missed out on a lot of cardinal priming for his eventual position. Now unofficially under his advisor’s discreet tutelage, the new Cat King can’t quite say he’s sorry to have never been forced to learn the finicky etiquette surrounding a proper meal… but a bowl of homemade soup for his trouble isn’t that bad a motivator.

Notes: For the prompt ‘Over a cup of tea’ from this meme, which I again chose on my own bc I mean. I might as well right……. anyway, hopefully this won’t spiral out of control like the dancing one did rip Also despite the prompt being ‘over a cup of tea’, on a whim I changed this to ‘over a bowl of noodles’ because the Mr. Ping muse is evidently still hanging around even all these years later Filled with headcanons and some references to a much longer fic in progress detailing this particular part of their relationship coughs

&&&

“Your paw is in your lap again.”

The look this pointed but nonchalant observation earns him is affronted, exasperated, as the younger cat sets his unoccupied paw back on to the flimsy table before them.

“I don’t know why all this baloney matters, Natty. Is anyone really gonna give a crap if both paws aren’t on the table at all times..?”

“Well, they may come to the unfortunate conclusion that you’re feeling perhaps a bit feisty, but I suppose if that doesn’t bother you, then…”

Natori doesn’t have to look up from his work to know the new king most likely wears an indignant, scandalized look; he hears him shift in his seat anyway, leaning back, crossing his arms grumpily. When he speaks, it’s with a very characteristic sullen mumble.

“Don’t be crude.”

It’s here that Natori finally turns his attention from the portable stovetop to his companion, and it’s with a contrite smile, at least, which seems to appease Claudius somewhat.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I shall behave.”

Claudius scoffs. “All you do is behave. Someday, I’m going to order you to live a little, and you’re gonna just keel over because I finally found the one thing you can’t do.”

“There’s worse ways to die, I suppose.”

“Not many.”

Then, silence, as Natori doesn’t respond in favor of adjusting the flame and fanning his (for once uncovered) paw over the foaming pot. Just a few moments of this is all it seems to take for Claudius’ minuscule store of patience to run dry. He flops onto the table before him with a dramatic groan, muffled only slightly by the surface his face is now smushed against.

“This is so boring—! If I’d had to do this as a kid, I woulda kicked my tutor in the shin.”

Upon the deadpan knowing look he gets from Natori, the king amends himself, “...Okay, I would have kicked more tutors in the shins. Whatever, isn’t there something you can do to make this less excruciating?!”

“Isn’t that what the soup is for?” Natori asks mildly.

“Oh, yeah. How’s that coming, anyway? Smells pretty good.”

“It won’t be long.”

In the silence that follows, Natori waits for another plaintive outburst from Claudius, but to his surprise, it never comes. Claudius instead seems to find absorption in his own thoughts, and it’s not long at all before he makes them known.

“Where’d you learn this stuff, anyway?”

“The cooking or the boring etiquette?”

“The cooking, duh.”

Natori hesitates, stirring the noodles briefly; he unintentionally gives the impression that he’s reluctant to reveal the truth, which only intrigues Claudius more. “...My grandmother taught me.”

"Did she teach you how to sew, too?"

"Yes," Natori answers patiently. In the fleeting time Claudius hasn't been paying attention, his advisor has already filled two bowls with noodles and is now ladling relatively clear, tawny broth over the top of them. Distantly, he feels his stomach growl in anticipation.

"Would you like some doubanjiang?"

"Some wha..?"

Wordlessly, Natori hands the jar to Claudius, who wastes no time at all in scrutinizing the paste or giving it a cautionary sniff.

“This stuff spicy?”

“It is spicy.”

Claudius hands it back. “I’ll take a rain check on it, then.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Gimme some extra beef, though.”

Natori complies, but once more without a word, and the reserve irks Claudius just slightly. He knows he isn’t, but it feels somewhat like he’s being ignored. He clicks his chopsticks together, and whether it’s out of impatience or peevishness, Natori’s chiding response is the same regardless— a mild, “Misusing one’s eating utensils is generally not recognized as acceptable behavior, sire,” as he places one of the bowls before the king.

Claudius grins at his advisor as if he’s come out the victor of some covert competition, but Natori can not for the life of him puzzle out what that competition might be. He might even wager the king himself doesn’t really know.

Then, seeing Claudius preparing to pick up his bowl and most likely gulp it down, he hastily adds, “A proper meal is one that’s savored.”

Claudius pauses mid-lift and shortly after deflates in frustration, plopping his bowl back down again. “Yeah, yeah, alright. We’ll do it the respectable way.”

Spoken while stabbing at a piece of beef with one of his chopsticks querulously. Natori resists the urge to put his head in one of his paws, making the mental note to address that another time.

“...you know, when I’ve been king long enough, I’m getting rid of all this stuffy rubbish.”

“The elders will decry the new regime as vulgar extravagance,” Natori remarks with a tickled laugh.

“They’ll get used to it.” Then, after finally taking a bite of his soup now that his momentary petulance has worn off, “Hey— your soup is actually good.”

“You sound surprised— not necessarily the most polite of ways to issue a compliment, I might add.”

“That’s not how I meant it,” Claudius grumbles. “I just… I mean…”

What he meant is consigned to remain a mystery, as he never does pick his trailing thought back up, descending instead into apparent morose rumination. Natori doesn’t rush him, unsure himself over what to say.

It had been not two weeks ago the two could hardly stand to be in the same room together without taking veiled potshots at each other, if not outright quarreling, at least when not accompanied by King Aelius or other companions. Reaching an understanding and two very genuine apologies did not make for an instant camaraderie on their own.

“...Thank you,” Natori does eventually settle on, his eyes still averted. “I-It’s not anything special, but I suppose it does remind me of home.”

Claudius looks up from his soup, and the stormy brow he’d been sporting softens some. He, too, then averts his gaze.

“Sounds nice.”

“I’m sorry,” Natori says, and though it feels like the proper response, he can’t explicitly trace what reasoning has led him to it.

Meanwhile, Claudius only shrugs, popping the last piece of cubed beef from his bowl into his mouth and propping his head against one of his paws (the other is, once more, folded in his lap below the table). “It is what it is.”

Continuing on, in a way Natori would have previously read as defiant or vindictive, he offhandedly stabs his chopsticks into the few remaining noodles and leaves them there, and the look he spies on Natori’s face when he turns his attention to his advisor tells him he’s probably committed a number of faux pas.

With a sardonic snort, he says, “Guess I got a long way to go, huh?”

Natori, while rather gently and methodically removing the chopsticks and laying them beside the king’s bowl, offers a more optimistic (if shy) angle. “You’ll get there.”

“With this soup, I will.”

Ah. One truth revealed, it seems. Natori meets Claudius’ wide smirk with a faintly playful look of his own, head canted just slightly in knowing amusement, and the tacit agreement seems to be all the king needs to add yet another inscrutable victory to his ongoing arcane list. Motivation and indulgence are often inexorably wed, after all.

#the cat returns #jfjfkd;a i finished another small drabble in record time :v #i started this one last night holy c rap #it's not very long but wOW is that a fast turnaround for me l mao

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piccolina-mina · 4 years

Text

The Art of Reciprocity

A/N: For @shadowandbones, the only person who could ever get me to write kysobel/kybel.💙

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

She pressed a manicured nail hard on the doorbell, not bothering to let up.

She couldn’t tell if the buzzer was working or not, so she knocked on the door for good measure, until she heard a muffled thump and swearing. Then a series of locks were unlatched and the door was wrenched open.

She smiled, syrupy sweet at a disheveled looking Kyle, stepping across the threshold and pushing past his lame attempt to block the entrance.

“No, by all means, come in, Isobel,” he mumbled, shutting the door and shuffling, barefoot back to a makeshift cocoon of blankets on the couch.

“No worries, I already did,” she tossed back, taking in her surroundings, her nose crinkling at Kyle’s questionable taste in decor.

She could work a miracle there. It screamed “bachelor pad,” and while he was neater than she would’ve imagined, it could have used a bit of a feminine touch.

God knew the Sheriff didn’t count. She was pretty certain the only time Sheriff Valenti would’ve witnessed the full spectrum of the rainbow is if she actually showed the woman her pleasure treasure trove.

“I was being polite. I could’ve come in on my own.”

“You being polite? Never!” Kyle snorted as he burrowed into a pile of blankets.

He stiffened when she plopped down next to him and kicked her feet up on the coffee table as if he still hadn’t gotten used to how she encroached on space without warning.

“You mind?” He nodded pointedly at her feet on his table, and she rolled her eyes, but took them off and kicked her shoes off too. She looked smug.

For a brief moment, she wondered if he would say something else, but a forced smile was frozen on his face.

She shrugged, her eyes landing on a pathetic looking sandwich on a saucer. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of it, so she snatched a half and took a bite, blanching at how utterly tasteless it was with its sad, wilted lettuce and boring multigrain bread.

“Kyle, this is – this is sad, man,” she said around a mouthful of sandwich that she unceremoniously spit back out on the saucer.

“I was going to eat that,” he stared, disgusted at the chewed up bits that landed on top of the other half.

“You shouldn’t, though,” she took a swig of his Gatorade, ignoring his dissent and smacking his hand away.

She choked back the pungent beverage that reminded her of melted popsicles on hot summer days in the desert. “You should have better standards.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said tiredly, snatching the bottle back from her and placing the cap on it. He sighed, collapsing back into his mountain of blankets as if the mere act tuckered him out.

She took in his appearance for the first time since she got there. His normally well-styled hair was damn near plastered to his forehead. His face had a sunken pallor unlike its usual tan, and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days.

His t-shirt had patches of sweat, and his skin glistened with sweat even though he shivered on occasion. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he had some killer stubble action going on.

“You look like sh!t,” she mused out loud. “Yet still doable,” her tongue darted out to lick her lips because the stubble was definitely hot. “It’s unfair, really.

“I don’t get sick, Doc, so I’ll be fine.”

“Isobel,” he blinked slowly, unamused as tired eyes met hers. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but what exactly are you doing here?”

“Can a girl just drop by and chat with a friend?” She quipped. She batted her eyes playfully.

“We’re friends?” He deadpanned.

It came off both lighthearted and honest, the latter causing her to recoil a bit. Her lips turned downward as she refrained from a snappy comeback because … were they?

And in his defense, she did come over there with an ulterior motive, so was he wrong?

His expression softened, picking up on her shift in mood despite her best attempt to hide it, put that mask of hers back up, the one she had perfected for the better part of two decades.

He opened his mouth intending to walk back his comment, except before he could say more he was overcome with a coughing fit.

His whole body convulsed with each cough, and he groaned when he was through.

A small part of her was amused that even physicians suffered from a man cold.

He feebly reached for his meds, and she used her powers to pop the lid off and place a couple of pills in his hand. She telekinetically pushed the Gatorade in his other palm too.

“Thanks,” he said, out of breath. He threw back the meds and rested his head on the back of the couch for a moment.

“How about I make you something to eat?” She swiped her palms across her jeans and stood, making her way to his kitchen and rummaging through his cabinets without so much as waiting for a response.

“You’re going to cook?” Kyle sputtered, dumbfounded. “For me?”

“Why is it so hard to believe I can be nice?”

“Isobel-” Kyle started.

“Don’t answer that. Yeah, I’m going to cook for you,” she slammed a few cabinets and arranged a bunch of on ingredients on the counter.

“Southwestern Chicken Soup,” she frowned. “Well, a variation of it, you know, you have a surprisingly well-stocked fridge. Last time I was at Michael’s, all I found was boxed mac ‘n cheese and Twinkies.”

“Isobel-” Kyle began again, watching the blond studiously ignore him while getting down to work. “I just-”

“Why don’t you do us both a favor and go shower,” she pointed the edge of a knife in his direction, nose upturned at his sweaty state. “Take your time, if we’re lucky, and you do it right, everything will be done once you’re out.”

She couldn’t resist the potshots, but his brow arched, more amused than offended. So much for hitting him where it hurt in retaliation.

She angrily chopped vegetables, the action serving as a release for her pent-up frustration. She busied herself assembling the soup, then searched high and low for any alcohol beyond the unappealing drafts in the back of the refrigerator.

She followed the sound of running water toward Kyle’s bedroom, dark colors, and sports paraphernalia abounded, and not only didn’t she bother knocking on the bathroom door, but she yanked back the shower curtain too.

“Kyle – stop shrieking,” she snorted at his surprised yelp. “It’s just me. Hey, do you have any wine?”

She never clocked him for the modest type, but it still surprised her when he stood stark naked, soap and suds pooling at his feet, and stared at her more exasperated than anything else.

“Isobel, do you have any comprehension of privacy?”

“Relax,” she gave him a slow once-over, biting her lip against her own volition. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. You saw mine, and I most certainly got to see yours,” her eyes roamed downward with appreciation before returning to his face. “Consider us even. Wine?”

“No, just beer. What can I say? I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Cute,” she yanked the shower curtain closed.

“So you keep saying,” Kyle chuckled beneath the rushing water.

She turned the cold water up with her mind, and he yelped as she slammed the door.

He didn’t say much when he was done. He smelled amazing, like himself, and it brought some color back into his face. He seemed revitalized but also more relaxed, as he sat on the stool across the island from her.

She could feel his eyes on her as she slid a heaping bowl of soup in front of him while leaning against the island and finishing off a half-empty bottle of beer.

He ate in silence, enthusiastically, she noted, and she secretly applauded herself for impressing him, even if he didn’t admit it.

“This is amazing, Isobel. Thank you,” he shoveled the last spoonful in his mouth.

Go figure; Kyle wasn’t spiteful or petty. He wasn’t – he wasn’t like her.

“Thank you,” he said again. His voice was soft – his eyes earnest and genuine. He reached across and rubbed her arm, and the intimate gesture sent warmth throughout her.

He knew she was attracted to him, and she propositioned him often, but it wasn’t just that he looked like a deity carved from stone. Kyle was a good guy, warm and cool at once, and he was so easy to be around. With Kyle, she could just … be.

With Kyle, she felt like the only thing that mattered was the present, not her past and who she was then, not her future and who she could be.

For Kyle, the present was enough, and since that’s all she could figure out, day by day, minute by minute, she appreciated the comfort in that, in him.

“So, Isobel,” Kyle flashed her that warm, disarming smile that cut through to the core of her. “Are you going to tell me why you really came over here?”

In hindsight, the only reason she was so agitated with his earlier response was because of how right he was, how right everyone was.

She did only come over for selfish reasons, and she didn’t know how to not be so self-absorbed, but she was trying. She wanted to be better.

“How did you do it, Kyle?” She attempted to sound lighthearted, but her voice cracked at the end. It hadn’t gone unnoticed based on the way his eyes widened infinitesimally. “How did you figure out how to be a better person?

She half shrugged, threw in a crooked smile too, and hoped he didn’t see the vulnerability in her eyes, hear it in her voice. Smell the loneliness on her skin.

She felt unsteady, constantly, endlessly unsettled. She felt like, at 28 years old, she didn’t know shit about herself, and she was starting from scratch.

She didn’t know who the hell she was, and if she didn’t know, how could she expect anyone else to?

“In high school, you were –”

“Kind of a dick?” He offered sheepishly. “Yeah, I know. Not my finest time.”

“And apparently, I’ve always been a bit of a bitch,” she mused.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he contested, his head canted to the

“You would be one of the few who didn’t.”

“Isobel, you’re human,” he frowned. “Well, close enough. You’re not perfect; no one is.”

“You are,” she joked.

“Not even close,” he argued with a scoff.

“Everything in my life is a lie, and everyone important in my life is stuck with me, they never chose me. My own husband didn’t even lo–” a lump caught in her throat as her eyes misted over.

“I distinctly remember a certain bartender choosing you, only you, out of a bar full of women. That wasn’t a fluke, Isobel.”

“Yeah, because she didn’t know me,” she argued, picking a carrot out of his soup bowl and popping it into her mouth to give her something else to do.

“No, because she did know you because you allowed yourself to be known. No rudeness, or snottiness, no snarky comments, or a prickly exterior, just you, letting go, being … you.”

She wanted to argue, but he shook his head. “You want to know how I became a better person? I’m not. I work every day to be better than I was the day before with the understanding that there’s no end to it."

"You care to give me something I can work with, Yoda?” She snarked.

“Alright,” he sat back. “For starters, being aware of the other people around me certainly helps.”

“Like at the very least noticing that someone is sick after you’ve bogarted your way into their house?”

“Something like that, yeah,” he replied coolly. “Look, I had to face who I was and the things that I had done, work through my own shit, and the rest just fell into place.

"Life happened. It has a way of beating you down and teaching you lessons. My world expanded beyond this small town and my small thinking or that of those around me.

I forged my own path, focused on me instead of what others thought of me. By doing that, I became better for myself and everyone else. I grew up; every day I’m growing up, and so are you, if you allow yourself to. You stop fighting the process, and it all goes smoothly.”

“And as for others, Isobel, you can’t have real friends until you actually learn how to be one. It’s not always about someone choosing you. It’s about you choosing them, and then putting in the work to show why it’s worth it, why they’re worth it, why you’re worth it. And you are. Worth it.

He ducked his head, made eye contact with her even though she attempted to look away blinking back tears she refused to let fall.

"All you have to do is get out of your own head, get out of your own way, and show up.”

He gave her that full smile that let her know he wasn’t being a dick.

“You’re so busy wondering why you don’t have friends that you can’t see that you do. You know who your friends are?

They’re the ones who show up for you, the ones who will make you a priority. You know how you become a better friend? Return the favor. It’s as simple as that.”

His voice drifted off on the last line, and he stifled another cough.

He patted the counter, gave her a tight-lipped smile, and hoisted himself off the stool. He was giving her space after saying his piece.

He shuffled to the couch and slumped down, kicking his own feet up on the coffee table and toyed with the remote.

For the first time since she waltzed in, she was unsure of her presence. She cleaned up the kitchen, put things away, and placed the leftovers into the refrigerator.

She meandered in the kitchen, not really wanting to leave but unsure if she should stay.

“Can you bring me another Gatorade when you come back in here?"

It was as if Kyle read her uneasiness, her reluctance, and she released a relieved titter as she brought him another drink, looming over him as she held it out.

He grabbed it, not releasing it for a bit, dark eyes boring into hers as if he was searching.

For what? She didn’t know, but he had a way of stripping her bare with one glance, it rattled her but also thrilled her, comforted her being looked at and seen.

But still, "You gonna stop batting those browns at me? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were the one trying to undress me with your eyes,” she joked.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Isobel. Saw it all before, remember?” The slight smirk took the sting out of it. “I was just wondering if you were a Wendy or a Ruth."

"What?”

“How do you feel about drug cartels?” He ignored her confusion, queuing up his Netflix.

“Is that a trick question? Are you part of some criminal enterprise in between surgeries and alien research, Valenti?”

“Haha, I’m being nice, I’m willing to sit through the first two episodes of Ozark again to catch you up, but if we ever plan on making it through the first season today, we gotta start now.”

“I’m…” she squinted at the screen. “That’s… isn’t that like ten hours?”

He waved at his bundle of blankets, sweats, and Kleenex boxes. “I don’t have any other plans today, do you?”

“Me? You want to binge a show about drug dealers … with me?”

“My house, my choice. And I’m sorry, I’m not watching Outlander or whatever,” he continued, burrowing into the covers again.

“Yeah, no, but–”

“It’s always more fun bingeing with a friend,” he shrugged casually.

The obnoxious gong of Netflix played at the same time she plopped on the couch next to him.

But she couldn’t take her eyed off of him, his profile, relaxed, and unbothered by her, by her company. High cheekbones, strong jawline, and long eyelashes.

Warmth flooded her chest.

“It starts off hot, if you keep glaring at me, you’re going to miss stuff, and I’m not starting it over again,” he murmured.

She leaned in close, tilted his head toward her with a manicured finger beneath his chin, her face impossibly close.

“Kyle,” her voice dropped an octave, as their faces were centimeters apart, she could smell the body wash still clinging to his skin, the spices from her soup on his lips. “Thank you.”

“For what,” he whispered, barely moving his lips, meeting her hooded eyes with his own.

She pressed her lips against his, a searing hot kiss, sucking his bottom lip between her own, nibbling, then soothing it with her tongue. Her fingers playing with his hair at the base of his neck.

She pulled away, leaving his lips swollen, his mouth slightly ajar, eyes a bit unfocused. She knew he was constantly thrown off by her temerity, but he never seemed to hold it against her.

“For being my friend,” her voice cracked at the end, and he was back to looking at her like he could see her soul. She averted her eyes, settled in resting her head on his shoulder as she pulled her feet up on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” she broke their comfortable silence halfway in.“How do I remind you of Wendy and Ruthie? Wendy’s bitchy, and Ruthie is obnoxious!" Kyle shrugged, with a wicked grin.

"You’re an ass,” she hissed, punching him in the shoulder.

“Oh, but you like it,” he teased.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’d also ride it,” she sighed.

“Isobel,” he choked on his drink, and she held her chin up triumphant and unapologetic.

“Hey, do you have any… dude, hold your arms up over your head,” she whacked him on the back as he sputtered and coughed.

“Anyway, do you have any popcorn?” She stared at the screen with rapt attention, unaware of him glaring at her with watery, red-rimmed eyes.

“Screw you,” he replied with no heat.

“Hey, I keep offering. You’re the one who says no. Now, are we watching this, or are you going to keep talking about your feelings, Valenti?”

She didn’t give him time to respond. Instead, she turned the volume up and stretched out on the couch half sprawled on him, ignoring his protest.

It felt good having a friend.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

#consider it a late gift #told you I still love you anyway hahaha #Roswell new Mexico fic #kyle valenti #isobel evans

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yoon-kooks · 5 years

Text

Blossom🌸- pt.2

Pairing: Stripper!Jimin x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Stripper!AU, College!AU

Summary: You decide to give the strip club another chance when your stripper neighbor promises to give you a special treat afterwards.

Warnings: lap dances, stripping, dry humping, blindfolds, thigh riding

Word Count: 4.9k

⤐ Story 2 in the Blossom!Universe; Read Blossom-pt.1 on my masterlist!

A/N: i cant believe i actual wrote d** h****** but it be like that sometime 😔

You’re not one to believe in love so easily, but your latest art assignment calls for something with “pure love”, and what you’re witnessing comes pretty close. So you casually pull out your sketchbook and begin outlining a rough sketch of the scene in front of you.

Your subjects wrestle around, unaware of your gaze, drowning each other in kisses and affection. She sits on top of him as she nips at his skin. He chuckles as he blocks her little bites until he can no longer resist, succumbing to her demands for more attention.

The giggles only stop several minutes later when one of your subjects finally takes notice of you with your pencil in hand.

“Drawing me again, huh?” Jimin sits up on his bed and glances over at you while his white puppy continues to lick his chin. “What’s the assignment this time?”

“To draw something that symbolizes pure love,” you wave the boy over to come take a look at your sketchbook. Intrigued by the topic, Jimin hops off the bed.

“Oh? Am I what comes to mind when you think of pure lo-” He meant to tease you about your potential crush on him, but he can only laugh when he sees your idea of pure love. Him playing with his puppy.

“So pure, right?” You point out a couple of things you’re especially proud of, like the details on the puppy’s paw pads and the feathering of its wagging tail.

“Right…” His lips slowly fall into the shape of a pout as he examines your sketch further. “But why did you draw her so much better than you drew me?”

You know he’s just messing with you, but the dedicated artist in you takes Jimin’s criticism to heart. Looking back at your sketch, it’s true that his body came out looking a lot more underdeveloped like a stick person next to a very realistic puppy with individual strokes of fur. And as funny as it is to look at, it’s a technical issue with your art that you’ve been trying to fix.

“I already told you I have a lot more experience drawing animals than I do with humans,” you explain. It’s not that you’re necessarily terrible at drawing humans, but your lack of comfort with them really shows in comparison to animals. That’s why you’ve recruited your stripper neighbor as your muse to help you find that comfort.

“I guess you just need more experience with humans then,” Jimin cocks his head to the side, not-so-subtly taking your hand into his. He attempts to interlace his fingers with yours, but you can’t take a hint so he settles for a very friendzoned handshake. “Think about it: you started with drawing only animals, then you drew me a couple of times, and then you moved up to animal-to-human interactions. Shouldn’t the next step be human-to-human interactions?”

“You have a point,” you nod, rather enjoying the pleasant feeling of holding his hand. “But I only have one human model, aka you.”

The boy stares your hands still clasped together and laughs, “Are you not a human?”

“I can’t be my own model and draw at the same time…” You do a messy scribbling gesture with your free hand.

“You don't have to draw at the same time,” Jimin captures your free hand and pulls you down onto the bed with him. You’d think laying on a bed with a stripper would be overwhelming for someone as wholesome as yourself, but you do get a sense of ease with him. Maybe it’s his eyesmile, or the clumps of dog fur on his dark shirt that remind you he’s still your dorky boy next door. Either way, you feel comfortable because it’s him you’re with. “Just experience it with me.”

“Experience what?” You feel his warmth radiating towards your body. Another pleasant feeling. “Handholding? Hugs? Kisses? Cuddling? Sleeping together? Se-”

“A lot of things if you’d like,” Jimin shushes you with an alluring stare. “Do you want to do all those things?”

“That would be ideal, yes,” you nod eagerly. If it means your art will feel more authentic and sentimental, you’d gladly engage in these interactions with Jimin. “For science, of course.”

“Right… for science…” He gives you a thumbs-up, although the corners of his lips seem to curve downward.

The frown doesn’t sit well with you, so you wiggle your hands out of his grasp and simply mirror them against his palms. Slowly you interlace each of your fingers between his, one-by-one until there’s no finger left behind. You pay special attention to the boy’s expression when you do this, but it softens less than you had hoped.

“Actually…” Jimin say, breaking the handhold. He runs his fingers through his hair a couple of times before rolling off the bed. “I forgot about work.”

“Oh right…” It’s your turn to frown. You forgot about it too. Not just the fact that the boy has work in an hour, but also that his job requires him to satisfy the naughty needs of other people besides yourself. You’re not the only one who wants a taste of Park Jimin. “I should let you go then.”

Jimin watches as you gather your art supplies off his desk and crouch down to say farewell to the white puppy. He doesn’t say anything until your hand is on the doorknob. “You can tag along if you’d like, Y/N.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I really shouldn’t g-” Your eyes and mind drift away as the boy strips his shirt off with his back to you. You never knew back muscles could look like that—good to know for future reference. After he throws on a clean shirt free of dog fur, however, you push the boy’s toned body out of mind to finish your sentence. “I shouldn’t go since strip clubs aren’t really my thing, remember? Besides, I need to work on this art assignment some more. It’s due in a week.”

“A week is more than enough time,” Jimin raises his eyebrows at you and your sketchbook. “And do I need to remind you that the strip club is where you found art inspiration in me? So it couldn’t hurt to go again, right?”

You don’t answer him because you feel like it could hurt to go again. Not in regards to your art, but to something else.

“If you come, I’ll treat you to something really special afterwards. How about that?” He holds out his hand, giving you one last chance to change your mind. The special treat is tempting, especially if it’s your favorite sweet dessert. Besides, you’ve been working diligently with your art, so you know you’ve earned yourself a treat of some sort. And if Jimin is thoughtful enough to offer you that treat, who are you to refuse?

After a back and forth debate in your head, you finally take his hand and allow yourself to be pulled back to the place where you and the boy first met.

“What’s this special treat you’re talking about?”

“Oh you’ll see,” the boy snickers in a rather sinister tone.

Something about the strip club has changed since your first visit. There are still attractive strippers, there are still generous tippers, and there’s still your favorite spot in the secluded corner of the room. But it’s the whole vibe that’s changed. You don’t feel as intimidated by the sweaty bare bodies of the strippers or the thirsty screams of the audience. It could be because, unlike before, you know you’re not alone this time.

Jimin sits you down at your favorite spot and waits for you to get all situated with your sketchbook. “Can I buy you a drink before I have to go get ready for the show?”

“Just some water, please,” you say. The boy only laughs at your innocent response before disappearing into the crowd to fetch your requested beverage from the bar. After a short minute, your eye catches him striding back with a fancy glass of ice water in hand. He isn’t doing anything special, but he still manages to look stunning amongst everyone else. You even notice he’s turning quite a few heads, despite all the on-duty strippers vying for their attention. It’s as if the spotlight’s on him.

“Y/N, you’re already drooling and I haven’t even performed yet,” he teases as he hands you your water. You chug it down, hoping to relieve your thirst, but it’s not enough.

“Then go,” you give him a light shove with a hmph to send him off. “I’ll be waiting for my special treat afterwards.”

“Anticipate it, Kitten.” He has the audacity to not only call you Kitten, but also give you the cockiest smirk you have ever witnessed before heading backstage. You suppose that’s just his flirty stripper switch turning on.

Once you finally have some time to yourself, you sip on your water, casually people-watching from your quiet corner. The rest of the room is flooded with excitement, flashing with sparking lights, a mixure of moving color. If you had to pick a color palette for a strip club, what would it be? That depends on whether a certain boy is in the room or not.

You glance over to a familiar mint-haired stripper getting intimate with a gorgeous female in a nearby booth. She bites her ruby red lips, snaking her arms around his waist and pulling him closer to slip a generous handful of cash into his ass pocket. As thanks, the stripper hovers over her lap with swaying hips to the beat of the stereo as he lets her hands explore his bare upper half. Their eyes are locked, exchanging looks of… lust? Satisfaction? Greed? As a mere bystander, you’re unsure of the mood, so your color palette would be a rainbow muddled with a lot of grey area.

“Oh I remember you, Baby Picasso.” The mint stripper somehow made his way over to your corner while you were busy swatching your palette. The nearly blank page in your sketchbook catches his eye. “Here to draw our Jiminie again?” Yes.

“Not necessarily,” you say. “But he was the one who brought me back here.”

“Ah, customer loyalty at its finest,” he nods. “That kid attracts most of our regulars.”

“Is he really that popular?”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed the aura’s different when he’s on stage.” He leans over your table and points at your grey-toned swatches in the corner of the sketch page. “Doesn’t it feel like the club becomes more… vibrant when Jiminie’s around?”

“It does, doesn’t it,” you press a finger to your lips as the wheels start turning in your head.

“But don’t let yourself get too caught in The Jiminie Effect. Otherwise you might end up getting hurt.” The mint stripper shrugs at you before the arm of a bold customer swipes him away. “Let me know if you ever want a taste of The Suga Rush, Baby Picasso~”

You wanted to ask what he meant by “getting hurt” from Jimin, but you’re pretty sure you already know. Jimin is an incredibly charming boy with a way of captivating an entire room, and you’re happy he’s found success as a popular stripper. That being said, you can’t help but also feel a little disheartened that there are so many others who share the same feelings for him.

Regardless, you’re at the strip club to support Jimin and collect the special treat that he promised you. Surely your relationship with the boy holds a bit more weight than the others. So you decide to get out of your own head.

Scarlet red. That’s the color you see when Jimin comes out onto the main stage with a silky red blindfold covering his eyes. The first thing you think is: wow, how the fuck is this guy not tripping or falling off the stage when he can’t even see in front of him? The second thing you think is: tiddies.

His open blazer flashes his nipples (and the rest of his gorgeous chest) as he graces the stage. It honestly looks more like a sensual take on contemporary dance rather than stripping at first. Even his hip thrusts have a flare of elegance to them. After all, Jimin’s a contemporary dance student, but the way he incorporates such a graceful genre of dance into his stripping performance shows how much of an artist he truly is.

But once the blindfold comes off, so does everything else. Jimin’s killer gaze, in addition to his taunting tongue, earns him a shower of bills on the floor of the stage as his performance comes to a close. Unlike the other strippers at the club, he does not interact as closely with the audience or make his rounds through the room. Instead, he makes a proposal.

“Tonight, I’m doing something a little different.” He picks his blindfold up off the floor and strokes it as he speaks to the audience. “I’ll be giving one lucky person a private lap dance and-”

An eruption of screams fills the room along with a surge of money being waved around before Jimin can even finish his sentence. He waits for everyone to quiet down, but the aroused crowd does the opposite. The rowdiness persists because everyone’s trying to be louder than the person next to them in order to catch their favorite stripper’s attention. That must be The Jiminie Effect.

And although the boy never got to finish his explanation, you assume the private lap dance has something to do with the red blindfold in his hand and will most likely be given to the highest tipper. Lucky them, you suppose.

Rather than throw some of your nonexistent money at the boy, you instead take the opportunity to do some quick sketches of Jimin’s contemporary performance while it’s still fresh in your memory. You want to capture his fluid motions and his undying passion for performing. With all of this and the blindfold in mind, you decide on a color palette. Scarlet red, a color of burning passion and sensuality, is an obvious pick. However, there’s another color you wish to incorporate-

When you take a peek back up at the stage for that other color, you’re surprised to see Jimin staring right at you, despite a huge sum of money being waved right in front of him by an expensive-looking woman. He mouths something for you to interpret.

“You,” his lips read.

“Me?” You don’t exactly know how to feel about the situation, but it doesn’t sit well with you. “Not me.”

He nods at you, still wanting it to be you.

You shake your head to end the conversation, but when people start turning around in your direction to see who has Jimin’s attention, you get up from your seat. Not to take Jimin up on his offer, but to excuse yourself from the club. You dislike strip clubs after all.

Back at your dorm, you sit at your desk, fleshing out some of your sketches of the blindfolded Jimin. You sculpt out his toned body and shade in a vibrant red flare to emphasize his illuminating aura on stage. Even then, your sketch is missing something. You’re missing something.

Knock. You check the time on your clock. It’s just past midnight, right around the time you’d assume strip clubs close for the night.

“Hi-” Jimin tries to say, but you close the door as soon as you open it.

Knock. You don’t open the door this time, so the boy starts talking from the other side.

“Y/N, I know you’re mad at me, but I-”

“Of course I’m mad at you,” you make a tsk sound. “I can’t believe you were going to choose me over all that money in front of you. Didn’t you see that Gucci lady at the front waving the wad of cash with your name on it? You almost gave up all that money for me. Fool.”

There’s a pause of silence before Jimin tries another attempt at getting you to open the door. Knock.

You open the door this time. The boy has a puzzled expression on his face.

“Wait, you’re not mad that your special treat went to someone else?” He blinks at you.

“A lap dance was the special treat you were talking about earlier?” You give him a duck face because you’ve made a grave mistake. “I thought we were getting ice cream or something.”

“Uhh well… we could get ice cream if you really want to? But my intention was for you to take that lap dance. It was meant for you, you know,” he chuckles over his failed plan.

“I really didn’t realize it was meant for me… I guess I’m really that dense, aren’t I?” Now you feel bad for thinking you’d be getting ice cream over a lap dance. Jimin was only trying to show that you were special to him, and you rejected him like an oblivious idiot. “I’m sorry, Jimin. If I had known, I’d-”

“We can still do it if you’d like.” He pulls out a silky red cloth from his pocket. “Perks of having a stripper neighbor, right?” You nod.

Waiting on your bed, you watch as the boy tries to hype himself up with the blindfold in his fists.

“I can help you tie it behind your head if you want.” You hop up from the bed to help him, but you’re wrong again. He backs you up until the back of your knees hit your bedframe and your ass falls onto the mattress. Suddenly his thighs surround your lap and his abs are in your face. Thankfully he decided to keep his shirt on for this one.

“Can I put the blindfold on you?” He dangles the red cloth before your eyes. It was for you, not him. And as intimidating as it is to make yourself so vulnerable, you’re intrigued.

“Sure… but you don’t want me to watch you?” You take one last look at his seductive gaze and voluptuous lips before your eyes are covered by the soft yet very kinky fabric.

“It’s something new that I wanted to try,” Jimin speaks in his normal voice before switching over to a lower, more suggestive tone. “As an artist, you rely a lot on your sight, right? Well I’m curious to see which senses will come alive when we take away your sight.”

Right away, you sniff out an alluring aroma of warm spices with naughty undertones. The blindfold must be drenched in cologne, but why are you only noticing it now? Or perhaps it’s the boy’s own intoxicating scent that you’re being enticed by. Either way, you must really like the scent because your nose is twitching like a bunny to get a better whiff.

The aroma continues to grow stronger as you feel finger tips graze ever so slightly against the back of your hand. The chilling sensation tickles more than anything, but then the boy lifts your hands and places them right at his waist.

“Tug if you want me closer, Kitten,” he whispers into your ear to give you a taste of the closeness before leaning back. Naturally, your eager little fingers curl into the threads of his shirt and tug as suggested. There’s a smooth shift in the boy’s body hovering over you. The soft sounds of his clothes rustling give you an indication of how close he must be.

To put it in perspective, you decide it’s a good idea to paint a picture of the scene in your head. A gorgeous boy is performing a lap dance on top of you as you sit blindfolded on the bed. His hands are pressed into the mattress on either side of you, his hips roll in a fluid motion, and his body grinds against an invisible wall that separates his crotch from yours. The mere thought of being under him is making it difficult for you to sit still.

You tug again and recline your back for Jimin to follow. The seams of his jeans drag gently along your outer thighs. His hot breaths tickle the exposed skin down your neck. “Do you want to feel me like this?” No, you want more.

Your fingers stray away from the boy’s hips, following the paths defined by his toned abdominals. Even through his shirt, you can easily map out the structure of his muscles, so you flesh out the details of the visual in your mind. This is much more engaging and “hands-on” than an anatomy textbook, you nod to yourself. But there seems to be a missed opportunity if the shirt stays on.

“Can you take off your shirt? For scientific purposes only.” You surprise yourself with the bold request, but the blindfold has made you feel some type of way. Shameless.

“Are you sure all of this is purely for science? Because I see you’ve already spread your legs out for me.” You hear a shirt being tossed aside before the mattress suddenly dips with something solid between your thighs. You assume it’s his knee when he nudges it into your crotch. Whatever it is, it’s making your body squirm for more contact.

“Maybe it’s a little more than just, uh, science.” You attempt to maintain a sturdy voice, but it’s hard not to pant when you’re overwhelmed with a heat you’ve never felt before.

“A little?” He questions you as his knee digs further into that spot between your legs. Oddly enough, you’re quite satisfied with the hot sensation created by all that friction, and you hope it doesn’t stop. “I think you’re more than a little wet down there, Kitten.”

“Oh,” you try to say, but it comes out more like a weak moan.

And of course, as soon as you show any sort of evidence of pleasure, Jimin decides to stop moving without saying a word. He stands there silently, probably smirking at how turned on he’s made you. He has to be teasing you, and you have to admit it’s working.

With his knee still wedged at your crotch, you situate yourself more towards his thigh and squeezes your own thighs around him. Your hips start moving on their own by instinct to find any sort of stimulation. It’s starts off as modest rocking back and forth against his body. You try to be subtle about it, as if the boy isn’t aware of your intentions. Surely riding his thigh whilst rubbing your wet lewd scents all over him won’t give it away.

“Oh, that’s your kink?” He sounds rather impressed. Once you finally find a good method and pace fore stimulating yourself on him, however, he pulls his knee back. “Let’s switch places.”

Next thing you know, your ass is sitting on top of Jimin’s lap with your legs wrapped around his waist for support. Without even thinking, your body continues to pleasure itself against boy, grinding and yearning for the wonders of sex.

You’d paint yourself a visual of the scene at hand to make everything more vivid, but you don’t really want to know what you must look like in such a helpless state. In times like this, you’re thankful for the blindfold-

“I wish you could see yourself, blindly humping and panting like a horny little puppy.”

You freeze at Jimin’s vivid narration of scene, regretfully imagining it as told. “Can I take the blindfold off?”

Unsure of whether you want to continue or end the stripper shenanigans once the blindfold comes off, the boy swiftly removes the cloth from your eyes and blinks at you. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the bright lights of your room, but when they’re back to normal, you remain seated in his lap and blink back at the shirtless boy.

For as intimate and steamy as it was a moment ago, neither of you know what to do or say. It’s a comfortable silence, although you do feel a bit embarrassed for showing the horny little puppy side of yourself to your neighbor. Besides that, you’re content. Your body finally relaxes, loosening its hold around the boy’s waist.

When Jimin comes to the conclusion that the stripper shenanigans are over, he lets out a chuckle to break the silence.

“What?” you pout.

“Nothing!” He throws his shirt back on, but not before you catch one last look of his tiddies and blossom tattoo. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get ice cream?”

“What were you laughing about earlier?” is the first thing you ask after taking a lick of your ice cream.

“You’re not gonna let that go, huh,” Jimin sighs into his strawberry sundae. “I was just laughing at you. Is that a crime, Officer?”

“But why?” You’d think you were holding an interrogation at your local late-night ice cream parlor. The boy in question rolls his eyes.

“You know how chemistry students always have to wear goggles during labs?”

“Yeah and when they take them off, they have this funny red imprint around their eyes,” you recall your old days in chem class. “Wait, are you trying to say I had funny red marks around my eyes after taking the blindfold off?”

Jimin shrugs.

“And that was funny to you?” You want to be annoyed by his childish humor, but you’re more so relieved that he wasn’t laughing about anything that happened while the blindfold was still on.

“It reminded me of how you always say it’s all for science,” he says, carving out a spoonful of strawberry syrup off the top of his ice cream with such precision. You know what he’s talking about—it’s your infamous excuse for wanting to get closer to the boy.

“Is it a crime for me to indulge in my scientific research, Officer Park?” You lick the ice cream off your lips with a playful tongue.

“Only if you abuse it,” he points at you as if to evoke fear before softening his expression. “But in your case, no.”

“Good.” You swipe a scoop of the boy’s sundae right in front of his face. “I don’t want you to think I’m just using you for your body so I can pass my art class...”

“I know that’s not the case, Y/N. Otherwise you wouldn’t have bothered with the whole blindfolded lap dance thing.” Jimin points to your ice cream cone, so naturally, you let him have a taste of it. “Because what’s the point of a handsome stripper giving you a lap dance if you can’t see what’s going on?”

“To feel things that you wouldn’t otherwise notice if you were too distracted by a naked body dancing over you?” you start munching on the waffle cone. “And by ‘feel things’, I mean emotions, not sexual pleasure. Just FYI.”

“Right, because you totally didn’t feel any sort of sexual pleasure while riding my thigh,” he nods.

“Right,” you nod along with a pretty good poker face. He’s on to you, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing what effect he has on your body. “Thank you, though, for not one, but two special treats.”

“There could’ve been a third if we’d just kept going-”

“Anyway,” you say, pulling out your sketchbook to change the subject. “That lap dance did give me some new art inspo.”

“It was quite the experience for a human-to-human interaction, huh.” Jimin scrapes the last bit of strawberry ice cream, watching as you flip through your sketches of him until you reach the ones from earlier that evening. You have a new color to add to the palette.

“Mhm,” you say, shading in the same color of the boy’s ice cream, the same color that his blossom tattoo represents. “But what do you think about this human-to-human interaction?” You wiggle your index finger back and forth between you and him.

“You mean us chatting over ice cream?” he asks and pauses for a second to think. “I like it. It’s a lot less, uh, intense than some of the other things you and I have done. But I like that.”

“Same. I think regardless of whether you’re a half-naked stripper or just a college kid eating ice cream, the world becomes more vibrant with you in it.” You flip your sketchbook around for Jimin to see.

“You drew me as a Super Saiyan?” He’s referring to his wicked blonde hair and the reddish-pink flare that surrounds his buff body. “Super Saiyans do make the world a better place, huh?”

“My human anatomy could still use some work, but you get the gist.” You don’t know whether to laugh or be offended by his weeb reference. Either way, he has a smug look on his face, as if being drawn as a Dragon Ball character is something to take pride in.

“Somehow the abs look super realistic though…” He strokes his nonexistent beard. “I wonder how that happened.”

You have flashbacks to when your fingers outlined a whole ass map of each individual muscle hiding beneath his shirt. You suppose your mental map translated well onto paper. “Yeah, that’s weird.”

“Let me know if you’re ever in need of another anatomy lesson,” he hums. “For science, right?”

“For science.”

#bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts fanfic #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #bts imagines #jimin #bts #bangtan #blossom

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unlockthelore · 4 years

Text

Daydream

Hiei dreamt of something similar to this but having it was different.

Part 9 of the Honor Among Thieves series. For more updates, please follow the honor among thieves tag on this blog.

“Now, don’t you two go off and do something reckless.”

Hiei sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that day. He wasn’t sure how he was lumped into assisting the ferry girl with hefting Kuwabara and Yuusuke’s unconscious bodies onto the shaft of her oar — but he felt it had something to do with the redhead assuaging her worries.

Without added help being sent through the barrier, the Reikai had to resort on back and forth transportation, which left space limited. It was a test of faith, as Botan put it in her initial explanation, wagging a finger at them both after ensuring the human pair were still among the living.

A way to assess whether they were truly upholding their end of the bargain so graciously gifted by “Lord” Koenma. Hiei resisted the urge to roll his eyes, dropping Kuwabara’s body none too gently onto the wood. The orange-haired boy groaned at the sudden shift. His hand unconsciously reaching for Yuusuke who was snoring away, rather loudly, in Hiei’s opinion.

Honestly, the longer Hiei spent around humans, the less he understood them. How could Yuusuke sleep so peacefully after coming close to death again?

“As I said, Botan, we’ll remain here until you return,” Kurama insisted, his voice gentle yet strained. “I doubt I even have the strength to move let alone the will to defy a direct order.”

Hiei snorted at that. He doubted Kurama’s will had anything to do with a lack of defiance. But he had a point. However irritating, the deal struck between them and the Reikai was fortunate. Violating it would only make unnecessary problems and more enemies than either of them needed currently. Walking away from the oar, still miraculously floating despite the added weight, Hiei ignored Botan’s furrowed brow and curious look in favor of standing near the debris Kurama was leant against.

The fox’s injuries weren’t fatal but Hiei wasn’t going to take any chances. His youki seeping out gradually to press and pool into Kurama’s own. The strain in the fox’s smile easing gradually, an answering wave of affectionate youki waking Hiei’s heart to beat slowly. Botan eyed them for a long moment. A weighty silence ended by a heavy sigh, her hands raising with a half-hearted shrug.

“Alright Kurama, I trust the two of you will behave until I get back.”

Behave? Hiei’s eyes narrowed. Did the Reikai think of them as errant children? The slight dug deep within his bones but Kurama’s youki, however weak, formed a wall in front of him as Botan hurried back to mount her oar.

「 She’s new at this, Hiei. Try not to hold it against her. 」

「 I won’t stand for being treated like a child. 」

Hiei huffed and shoved his hands in his pockets, ignoring the jaunty wave from the ferry girl as her oar lifted to the skies. Kurama’s answering wave, a small polite one, was no less genuine with the relief in his smile as they left. The ferry girl’s kimono and the distant figures of Kuwabara and Yuusuke becoming a speck on the horizon until their energy left the Makai altogether. Kurama’s pained sigh drew Hiei’s attention as the fox slumped against the debris, his hand cradling his side.

At his side in an instant, Hiei knelt down and gently tugged Kurama’s hand from the wound. One of the worse ones from how it cut into his uniform. The blood smeared across his skin a glistening red against the palm of his hand. Hiei’s lips pursed, and he held Kurama tight by his hip, dipping his head low. His tongue dragged along the wound, cleaning the blood from it. A tight hold on his shoulder, blunt nails pressing into the fabric of his cloak and kneading against his skin.

「 Hiei… 」

Kurama’s sigh was distracting at least. Echoing in his mind as it did in the comforts of the fox’s bedroom. After a few moments, the wound was cleaned and the cut closing itself. Hiei ran his tongue along his lower lip and the corners of his mouth. Tasting Kurama’s blood was nothing new. However, just as with anything he received from the fox, he wasn’t one to waste it or take for granted.

「 You could have asked for one of the seeds in my hair, you know. 」

An amused glint in the fox’s eyes made Hiei roll his own. It wasn’t the first time they’d healed their wounds like this without any of the fox’s supplies around or energy to give to one another. Yet with the way Kurama observed him, his smile toothy and the teasing words practically forming on his lips, Hiei fought the urge to blush. Undoing the clasp on his cloak and draping it over Kurama’s front in one fluid motion both to hide his reddening face from the fox’s view and give him comfort.

The air in the Makai was beginning to chill and whilst Hiei knew Kurama’s human form was durable, he hardly wanted to test how it would withstand the realm’s harsher conditions. Kurama’s smile fell and he shuffled beneath the cloak. His red hair a pleasing sight against the dark fabric. Rising to his feet, he walked to the edge of what had once been height of Maze Castle and stared out at the desolate plains. Ignoring the scuttling of the lesser demons, picking at scraps and darting off to escape Hiei’s gaze.

They knew better than to infuriate either of them but if they lingered any longer, enemies would come. Hiei sneered. It’d been some time since he could let loose. And with Kurama in his current state, he’d gladly take on the fox’s enemies as well as his own.

「 Aren’t you going to rest? It’ll be some time before Botan returns, and you must be tired from your fight with Seiryuu. 」

Hiei scoffed. Even the mere thought of the supposed “Ice Dragon” was repugnant. Seiyruu was nothing short of a disappointment. The battle wouldn’t have nearly lasted that long if Hiei wasn’t interested in seeing his triumphant grin turn to unbridled terror. Remembering Seiryuu’s face in his final moments brought a smile to Hiei’s. At least the fool could see the error in his ways even if he had no hope to correct them at the end.

「 You say that as if he was even a challenge. His ice was as poor as his bark. 」

Kurama’s eyes crinkled at the corners, the likelihood of a smile hidden behind the cloak. Green twinkling with mirth as he regarded Hiei silently.

「 If only he were aware of your affinity, perhaps he would’ve been spared the humiliation. Or was that your plan from the beginning? You seemed upset with how he regarded Byakko in his final moments. 」

Hiei stiffened up, stricken by the direct assumption. He hadn’t thought very much of the gesture and the lengths he went to cover Byakko’s head. Even rendering his body somewhat susceptible to Seiryuu’s ice was dangerous from the standpoint of a fighter. However, he couldn’t abide by the “Ice Dragon” ’s callous ways. Kuwabara and Yuusuke didn’t mention it and Hiei foolishly hoped Kurama would have let it slip from mind as well. He should have known better…

「 Rest. Analyzing me won’t heal the damage Genbu did to your body. 」

Against his wishes, Kurama shifted beneath the blanket again, settling upright with his back to the slab of rock. His mouth was visible now. Lips curved upward into an lazy smile, normally attractive and endearing, when not accompanied by one raised brow and a sweeping gaze. Hiei never shied from Kurama’s eyes but he knew his own body, and where the green gaze lingered was lower than his nose and currently occupied with his tongue.

「 And your saliva will? 」

Kurama’s amused musing made Hiei’s lips twitch. If it had been anyone else, he might have said a scathing remark or brushed him off entirely. Before their meeting, there was also the possibility of running him through. Spitting out bits of gravel that’d lingered on his tongue, Hiei scrubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. Ignoring the heat in his face to glare off into the distance.

「 You’re insufferable. 」

Kurama laughed, wincing as he pressed his hand to his stomach but the pain didn’t crease his face as before. Hiei started toward him and the fox raised his hand. Not a dismissal but a show of good faith. Still, Hiei wouldn’t take a chance when Kurama was involved. The fox, infinite in his ability to withstand and adapt, was terrible at allowing himself to be cared for. A habit they shared. Sinking down to his knees beside Kurama, Hiei lifted his cloak to look at the wound better. Nudging the fox’s hand aside to brush his fingers against the healing skin.

It was healing, but there may have been others. Though he hardly could think of stripping Kurama bare and looking for them. For one, the fox would hardly allow it if he wasn’t in the mood. And two, this wasn’t an ideal situation for either of them.

「 You’re thinking terribly hard. 」

Hiei glanced up. Kurama’s gaze meeting his own and the fox dared to smile when caught staring. One of those distracting smiles that lowered Hiei’s guard — not that the fox hadn’t somehow climbed over the fortified walls months ago. Maintaining the war of wills was a futile effort. And conceding to Kurama without a fight was out of the question as well. After a long moment, the fox canted his head to one side and Hiei ended their brief battle with a quick show of taking a seat beside him.

Kurama chuckled warmly. Deep vibrations of a voice far older, yet familiar, sent shivers down Hiei’s spine. No mere chill, nor the frigid climate of his mother’s homeland, or the coldest winters in the Makai and Ningenkai could accomplish such a feat — but Kurama’s voice was beyond any of those.

「 Your heart is greater than you realize. 」

Hiei rolled his eyes. A retort dying on his tongue when he felt the warm press of Kurama’s body against his own. Barely any space between them with Hiei’s cloak half-covering his left arm from view, the fox’s head resting on his shoulder. Dark red hair obscuring Kurama’s eyes but even without looking at him, Hiei could hear the smile in his voice.

「 What are you doing? 」

「 Resting, isn’t that what you asked? 」

「 There’s a rock behind you, use that. 」

「 It isn’t as warm as you are, nor comfortable, and the night is growing cold — bear with this for my sake. 」

Hiei couldn’t argue with that. As they lapsed into silence, the sounds of the howling wind and distant noises from the city oft in the distance filled the quiet. Hiei’s thoughts wandering as he tipped his head back, staring up at the darkening sky beginning to fade from This was different than being in the fox’s bedroom or elsewhere in the Ningenkai with only the two of them present.

They were home. Their birth realm. A blood-soaked land where Kurama was lorded as a legend, the King of Thieves, and Hiei was a mystery, scorned and heralded, both as the Forbidden Child and a bandit. Fables meant to keep children awake at night given flesh. Reputations of bloodied hands and terse demeanors. The former holding true, but the latter? With Kurama leaning against him with a content smile, his fluttering sigh and light nuzzle against Hiei’s shoulder easing the fire demon into comfort, Hiei wasn’t sure.

Still, this was close to what he’d sought after. Dreamt of, though he wouldn’t admit it aloud in fear of Kurama hearing. Traversing the rugged terrain of the Makai, exploring its depths, hearing more of the land he was born to from someone who’d walked it for centuries before. Makai would always be his home but the Ningenkai held purpose now, however scattered it may be. Yukina was somewhere within the realms, Kurama was adamant on remaining in the Ningenkai until his mother’s passing — and Hiei had no reason to deny.

This partnership — their connection — it changed him in ways he wasn’t sure of. Shifted this warming dream into one palatable for their current place in life. Peering down at Kurama, Hiei stared quietly. He’d grown fond of the redhead over the past year and few months they’d been together. Enough to sacrifice his own well-being for Kurama’s human mother and endure trial after trial to stay at his side.

Whether the stories were true or not had no place here nor between them. Kurama was just as he was. A merged soul between a human boy and a fox demon. Tangled between centuries old knowledge and brutal grace, tempered by an empathetic soul.

Faint though it was, he’d worried the fox was ashamed of him — to be with him. Yet to be here, with Kurama at his side unabashed in displaying their closeness for all the world to see, was more than Hiei could imagine.

「 It hadn’t crossed my mind… 」

Kurama glanced up at him, green peeking through deep red, and for a moment Hiei almost thought he saw a flicker of gold. Gone too hastily for him to make sense of. Hiei resisted the urge to brush Kurama’s hair away from his eyes and take a better look. Whether the Reikai idiots were watching them or not, he didn’t want to give them any reason to inquire about them further.

Kurama raised one brow before inching his head, his cheek pressing against Hiei’s shoulder. Taking the hint, the Jagan glowed beneath his ward as he allowed some of the dreams he’d been having to show between them. Kurama’s eyes widened, filled with some unspoken emotion, and he smiled lazily.

「 No? 」

Hiei blushed faintly, reaching up with his right hand to adjust his ward thoughtlessly. The teasing he expected never came but he never knew when it came to Kurama. However, the question held merit, why hadn’t he thought of it? Running away with him. Simply leaving where the Reikai couldn’t find them.

Surely Kurama had hideouts from his days as a thief and Hiei knew many places. They could be gone within minutes. Yet, he couldn’t broker the idea or even let it rest on his tongue.

「 No… 」

Hiei’s brows furrowed. Shiori wouldn’t know what became of her son if they ran away, and Kurama would miss his mother sorely. Wondering what became of her and if her illness resurfaced in his absence. If Shiori died without him present, Hiei knew Kurama would never forgive himself. Then there was the matter of Yukina and the promise they’d made to find her.

But even then, fleeing from the Reikai was both cowardly and futile. Their access to the barrier would be gone and they would never know true peace.

「 I assumed we’d come back here on our own terms. 」

Once they were relieved of their baby-sitting duties and secured in the Reikai’s “good graces”.

「 I thought the same. 」

Hiei blinked slowly, staring down at him in shock.

「 ….You did? 」

Kurama wasn’t looking at him now. Staring out at the remains of the castle and to the forest beyond its plains, seeming taken with analyzing how the fauna had changed. Hiei could see his fingers moving beneath the cloak. Was Kurama trying to call the plants to his aid? A whisper on the wind, a shudder deep in his soul, cries of the forest and its creatures answering to Kurama’s youki. Diffusing it quickly, the fox seemed pleased as he nestled against him again.

「 I expected we would return together, I just wasn’t certain of when. 」

Hiei wasn’t sure what to say to that. And the prolonged silence drew a strange noise from Kurama, the fox tipping his head back to meet Hiei’s gaze, green eyes flecked with curiosity and worry.

「 Is that strange? 」

Why would Kurama look at him like that? As if this hadn’t been what he was after since they became… closer. True, he still held his words close to his chest and perhaps the fault lied with him if the fox found his intentions confusing. Actions suited him better but while the idea of grabbing Kurama’s hand and running off with him into the night was appealing, it was also just a dream.

「 No… 」

「 You’re thinking about something. 」

Not a question but a fact. Kurama’s gaze sweeping over his face and Hiei’s eyes narrowed in response. Another contest of wills arising before he dismissed it. There was no point in keeping this from him.

「 That it would be easy — running away with you. 」

Emotions flicked across his eyes too quickly for Hiei to name them. Kurama’s smile returning, softer and adoring, one of the smiles that Hiei’s heart to beat loudly. As if he were caught in the aftermath of a great battle — victorious and elated.

「 Are you asking to run away with me, Hiei? 」

And then the fox had to ruin it with his teasing. Hiei rolled his eyes.

「 I will drop you. 」

「 Forgive me for asking then. 」

Hiei did. It was a stretch with the newfound territory they’d treaded on but he was almost certain. If it was Kurama, he would likely forgive him no matter what he did. Hiei was no stranger to pain — giving wounds or receiving them — but any wound Kurama created, he healed. And when he said he would never harm again, he meant it. The truth seared upon his soul and in every moment shared between them.

Hiei swallowed thickly. Fear crept into his chest and curled deep in his heart. Kurama’s eyes never leaving his own, the warmth shared between them staving off another wind gust ruffling their hair. With a full view of Kurama’s eyes, Hiei’s tongue loosened almost immediately but it was his mind’s traitorous thoughts of the fox’s hand in his own as they walked through the forest.

The trees, the grass, the very Earth coming alive at Kurama’s presence — and Hiei simply happy to be at his side.

「 If I was asking… what would your answer be? 」

Kurama hummed in answer and rolled his eyes to the sky, a smile tugging at his lips, gentle in its curve without a hint of his usual teasing.

「 … Tempting. 」

Hiei stared at him flatly.

「 Tempting. 」

The dry teasing repeat of the word garnered a laugh from Kurama. A lack of a wince or a hiss of pain bringing a smile to Hiei’s face. He could have listened to that laughter for days on end without tire. His fingers brushing against Kurama’s own hidden beneath his cloak and the fox’s laughter eased, returning the light touch with one of his own.

「 Fine, I’ll accept that for now. 」

Hiei pressed his little finger against Kurama’s and the fox sighed softly. His youki wrapping around Hiei’s own as attempting to blanket him. Tipping his head back against the rock, Hiei stared up at the darkening sky and breathed in deeply. His energy pressing against Kurama’s, melding together and holding tight as if he had the fox in his arms and refused to let go.

「 What they said did hold merit. I’d forgotten others knew of my past. 」

「 That’s right… the uki-me mentioned quite a bit about you. Have you dealt with the Saint Beasts in the past? 」

「 Now and again. You? 」

「 When it suited me. They were confined to this “castle”, I had no need to linger or desire to be caught with them. 」

Hiei smiled. It was unwise to cage a fox. That is when they tended to show their teeth. Or at least it was what Kurama described to him. Something he’d seen in the brief moments when their wills clashed early on. Glimmers of who the fox had been before.

「 You would’ve made a better Saint Beast. 」

「 But Hiei, I thought we became partners so you wouldn’t have to fight me. 」

Innocent though the words were spoken, the implication drew Hiei’s attention to Kurama’s smirking face and he narrowed his eyes.

「 You bastard… you were listening the whole time? 」

While Kurama strode to meet his battle with Genbu, Hiei spoke with Yuusuke and Kuwabara on the sidelines. Expecting the fox to be too distracted to hear the half-truth. Honestly, he should’ve known…

「 Will you drop me if I say yes? 」

「 Without hesitation. 」

「 Then no. 」

「 You’re the worst. 」

「 You care for me. 」

Kurama’s expression remained innocent but his eyes gave him away as they always did. A little too knowing, a little too amused, a little too — distracting. Hiei looked away to maintain his anger. A flickering ember though it may be, it was deserved now with this embarrassment.

Gradually, as with all moments between them, it passed. Kurama relaxing against him and the gentle press of their fingers becoming something else as the fox’s little finger hooked over his own. A light test with how easy it would be to break Kurama’s grasp on him. A hold Hiei didn’t want to end any time soon. Perhaps it was the fox’s acknowledgement of their shared dream. Or Hiei’s desire. He wasn’t rightly sure.

Nevertheless, this moment would be woven into his memories along with every other moment spent with Kurama. Hiei breathed in deeply, sighing through his nose. He could still remember the direction of the Forest of Fools, the Plateau of the Beheaded, the jagged slate grey faces of the Jakkaru Mountains, even where the wind might have taken the glacier island of Hyouga.

「 One day, I’ll steal this world’s greatest treasure. 」

Kurama chuckled, tightening his hold on Hiei’s little finger.

「 Is that what you were thinking about so deeply? 」

「 Mm. 」

「 Then, what is this world’s greatest treasure? Perhaps I’ve heard of it. Or stolen it already. 」

Hiei snorted at the confidence in Kurama’s tone. Of course he would think that the treasure he was after was something that’d already fallen in his possession. Anything worth note would come eventually, a thief’s creed.

「 I doubt it. It’s something not even you can steal. 」

「 And what would that be? 」

Kurama huffed, a slight fare in his youki at the affront. The fox had his pride after all. His skills in thieving were unsurpassed at least by the legends’ account. But Hiei didn’t rescind his words or try to appease Kurama’s lightly bruised ego. This treasure was something the fox couldn’t steal. Not in a hundred nor a thousand years, but he did possess the power to take it away and Hiei was humbled by that thought.

Pulling his finger from the crook of Kurama’s own, he laid his palm atop the fox’s and laced their fingers together in a tight hold. Tipping his head to one side to meet Kurama’s curious gaze, his heart fluttering as he squeezed the fox’s fingers in his own. Warmth blossoming and he was grateful for the cover of the darkening sky to hide the redness in his cheeks.

「 You. 」

Recognition dawned on Kurama quickly. His breath hitching and Hiei felt a burst of satisfaction at the wide-eyed look. Catching Kurama off guard was a feat in itself. Moments of honesty were the easiest way to achieve it. And that look was rewarding enough.

「 You plan… to steal me? 」

As softly as the words were spoken in his mind, Hiei almost thought he hadn’t heard correctly. His eyes softened and he held Kurama’s hand tighter, pressing closer to him.

「 I already have your heart. 」

Memories of that day on the roof where they spoke of the rumor of the Boy In Black came to mind. If he was going to steal anyone’s heart, then why not it let it be that of his partner? Kurama must have seen the memories as well because he pressed forward immediately, the Jagan burning hot between their foreheads touching. And if Hiei wasn’t smiling before then he was now.

「 So I’ll take great care with it. 」

Hiei’s eyes adjusted well to the dark even in the Makai. A soft dusting of pink across Kurama’s cheeks catching his eye. Lack of refusal stirring hope in his chest. Peering past the fox, oft on the horizon, the outline of the ferry girl was visible.

Disappointment doused the flickering flame but Kurama’s light touch to his jaw drew his attention back to him. Green filling his entire world as the fox leant closer, their lips pressing together in a chaste kiss. Lighter than the ones they exchanged in the dark but meaningful all the same.

Hiei’s breath warm as he exhaled through his nose, pressing closer to Kurama with his hand caressing the fox’s back.

「 To the first of many… 」

“Time to go,“ Kurama murmured against his lips, pressing a lighter kiss before he pulled away, offering Hiei’s cloak to him. His eyes crinkled at the corners with an amused smile likely from the look on Hiei’s face.

Taking the cloak in his hands, Hiei fought to remember how to swallow and breathe. That voice. He’d heard it before in Kurama’s memories and in the reaches of the fox’s mind when he tried to soothe his nightmares. Rising to his feet on shaky legs, Hiei pulled his cloak on and fastened the clasps. Watching Kurama’s back as the fox approached the edge of the debris, tipping his head back as if feeling the wind.

Hiei’s eyes softened and he held out his hand, reaching for the redhead as if he would vanish. His hand snapping back to his side when Kurama began to turn and the ferry girl, Botan, made her descent with a cheery wave.

「 I will always be yours, Hiei. 」

Hiei stared at Kurama’s back all the while. What?

“Something wrong?”

Stiffening up at the two sets of eyes, green and pink, focused on him — he reflexively shot a glare at the ferry girl who squeaked and hid behind her oar defensively.

“What’d I say?” She whined, comforted by Kurama’s soft chuckle and pat to her shoulder.

Hiei huffed, averting his gaze and looking out at the horizon trying to memorize the scent and the landscape.

“Ready to go?”

Focusing his attention on Kurama, the fox’s gentle smile eased his irritation immediately.

“Let’s go.”

One day, they’d return to this land and they’d do it together.

#yu yu hakusho #yyh #kurahi #kurama #hiei #fanfiction #my fanfiction #honor among thieves

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