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shoot-the-oneshot · 2 years

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Enemies to Lovers

Mick Schumacher x Senna reader F1 Romance trope Masterlist It was so hard writing Mick as anything but a sweetheart but i think it turned out great let me know what you think!

Next part lance stroll marriage of convenience

“A rivalry we thought we’d never see again folks, once again Schumacher vs Senna on the formula 1 circuit.” You toned out the anouncers voice coming from everyone’s phone you passed with in three miles of the track, it was common for them to point out the renewed rivals ever since you got to F1 following your fathers foot steps it’s always been the headline. Not that you cared it was true after all.

The Emilia race always head tension for you and Schumacher, being where your father crashed, and media was all over it. Getting you both together for interviews ratings always spiked this time during the season for drama alone.

“Senna.”

“Mick.” Taking the spot next to him in front of the camera not bothering to look at him. He scoffed, “Didn’t know we were on a first name basis now Y/N” you shook your head in disagreement, “We aren’t, once you start driving like a Schumacher i’ll call you one.” You saw his shoulders puff up out of the corner of your eye.

“We’re here today with the Daughter of Aryton Senna and the son of Michael Schumacher the two greats back on track fighting for the chance to win.” You snicker at their intro speaking only loud enough for Mick to hear.

“I’m fighting to win you’re fighting to just get in the points.” Mick snarled gearing up for his own comment but the interviewer Sarah, finishing her intro innturupted him.

“So we are all excited for this race, but what are you two looking forward to most.” She nodded to the Hass driver to start who took the chance to clap back.

“Can’t wait to beat this one.” Nodding his head towards you that easy smile he uses to fool everyone into thinking he’s a sweetheart sliding across his face, sure as if. Laughing giving him a sympathetic pat on his arm. “Oh Mick they don’t have a place after last.”

“Bite me.” Growling through clenched teeth still pulled into a smile to save appearances. “Not even with your teeth.”

“Okay,” Sarah dragged out her words at your back and forth, flipping for another question.

“Y/n, you have been at the top of the standings since the first race of the season Leclerc a whole ninety points behind you how does it feel to be this close to a championship win?” Finally a good question.

“It feels incredible, this year with McLaren has felt amazing the car just clicks with me and we are all very excited to be a contender this year.” And it was true after your first year with Aston Martin then getting to McLaren the next it felt right you could feel it in your bones this was your year.

Sarah smiled satisfied with your answer then turned to your fellow driver. “Mick its been a rough start with you earning no points in your F1 career, but how are you and your team feeling about this upcoming race?” Mick shrugged and you could tell that talks of you getting this close to a championship bugged him. “Well we are working on the car I’m sure it would be easier to get points if my name opened doors to bigger teams.”

You laughed out loud at the supposed burn. “Oh Mick my last name doesn’t steer the car, and it doesn’t get you a better seat as you’re a prime example of.” By now you and Mick were in a stare down, interview be dammed.

“YYYY/NNNNN SSSEEEENNNAAAA!!!” You broke the glare to see your teammate Daniel shout your name, his smile easing your anger. He saw the tension rising and made the decision to separate you both. Daniel smiled over your shoulder to Sarah telling her some bull story about Zak needing you, but she bought it not one to outrank a principal.

You turned to Mick giving probably the fakest smile. “See ya when i lap you” he nodded clinching his jaw, blue eyes turning into daggers. “Go fuck yourself”

Dan started pulling you away but you shouted back over your shoulder.

“I’ll think of you when i do!” Throwing a finger wave in for extra effect. Successfully stunning Mick to silence. Y/n 1-0 Mick.

You walked away with your head held high glad to have gotten the last word while Dan stumbeld behind, “That was an interesting come back. Since when are you into mini Schu?” He spoke his brows practically in his hair line.

“Uh never! It was just to make him uncomfortable.” Appalled he would even consider you having any feeling other than hate for the Hass driver.

“Oh i definitely think his race suit is more uncomfortable now.” His statement made you stop in your track. “No way.” “Yes way.” Dan laughed. “You didnt see how he looked at you when you turned around.” He hummed and you both carried on walking.

“With distaste more than likely.” You scoffed.

“I think you’re just his taste actually.” He suddenly stopped grabbing your shoulders positioning you to look at the huge pictures of you and Mick side by side advertising the rivals.

“Look how cute you guys look together.” He cooed, laying his head on your shoulder, which you quickly shrugged off.

“Just saying the line between love and hate is very thin.” The space between his pintched fingers was minimal emphasizing his point, making you roll your eyes. The rest of the day was boring and you just wanted to get back to your hotel room and get ready for qualifying tomorrow.

you were already running late having slept through the first two alarms you set. You were distracted by tying your boots and hopping down the hallway at the same time, you didn’t have a chance to see who was in the elevator before the doors shut trapping you together.

“Senna.”

“Mickey.” You sighed knowing who’s voice that belonged to without having to turn around. “There’s no one else here you can drop the attitude without ruining your image.” Did he just sass you? You spun around about to give him a piece of your mind when the lights flickered, making you both freeze. The elevator jurked to a stop making you fall backwards into Micks chest.

His arms wrapped around your waist instinctively, holding you tight against him. “Uh Senna?” “Yeah?” You breathed out. You felt Micks breathing against your back the steady rise and fall distracting you along with Daniels words from yesterday.

“I think it’s safe now.” He softy spoke squeezing your hips making you jump out of his grasp and fix your shirt trying to appear unbothered. Mick smirked at you behind your back as he pressed the help button. Which gave an automated voice saying they will get to it as soon as possible, making both your spirits drop.

“Well get comfortable.” He said leaning against the wall across from you, sitting on the floor. You mimicked him redoing your hair into a messy bun on top of your head, holding the bill of your hat between you teeth, you breath involuntary caught in your throat as Mick leaned closer gently pulling your hat out from between your lips, holding it for you. With that sweet aggravating look of his.

“That’s not very lady like.” He teased, Dodging your hand that went to snatch your hat back. He leaned back tracing the logo and your number sewn on. He hated to admit it but it was kinda cool. “I’m a race car driver I’m not lady like.” You grumbled trying to reach for it again, falling and catching yourself before you fell on top of him, ending up nose to nose, were his eyes always that blue or was it lack of oxygen.

“Clearly.” He agreed, placing a hat on your head, Snapping you out of it. “Why does your hat say Y/n?” He asked confusing you, does he really not know. “It’s my name genius.” He rolled his eyes, “i know that by why not Senna.” His question made you pause, were you both actually having a civil conversation and were you going to allow it.

“When Aston signed me they only called my Senna, but McLaren let me step out of my fathers shadow a bit and make my own name for myself not just my last name. I’m sure you understand.” Mick wasn’t expecting that much of an honest answer from you, he was waiting for you to tell him to mind his business, then a lightbulb went off in his head. “Wait, is that why you don’t call me Schumacher?”

You shrugged finding the loose string of your shirt very interesting. It was much easier being around him when you were bickering. Mick couldn’t believe it, what he thought was you disrespecting him was actually you being kind to him and being the only person not to connect his driving to his fathers, were you just defending yourself when he snapped back? he didn’t know how to feel.

“Now i feel like an ass for Calling you Senna.”

“Oh i definitely think you’re an ass.” You teased your cocky smile back on your face. There’s the Y/n he knew. Your escape wasn’t long after that and you practically sprinted to the track not noticing the hat on your head wasn’t yours at all and he had switched it with his Hass hat until the paparazzi posted the photo of you running and Mick smugly wearing your McLaren hat behind you, with the headline. ‘Rivals to lovers?’

You made pole position in the race a sweet victory for your team, you were laid in your room after media, typing away on YouTube like you always did for background noise, how you got onto Hass YouTube page you’ll ignore but you didnt notice it until a knock on your door sounded.

“There’s our future champion, woah do you have a boy over?!” Daniel sang, when you opened the door, your brows furrowed not realizing he could hear the tv. At the chance to embarrass you he pushed passed you expecting some Frenchman in your room coming up empty, then he saw what you were watching.

Raising his eyebrows he slowly spun to face you. “Oh, what a turn of events this is.”

“I dont know what you mean i didnt put it on!” You defended turning the tv off. “Sure you didnt.” He scoffed throwing the Hass hat on your bed from your dresser. “Means nothing.”

At his look you knew you had to explain. “We got trapped in the elevator he switched our hats that’s it.” He nodded along not believing a word. “And you talked to him?” “Words were probably exchanged.” You shrugged, Daniel was loving this, having already gotten the details from Vettel. The two drivers were your biggest shippers. Seb knowing how big of a crush Mick had on you from when you first joined F1, and Dan just loved the drama.

Just as he was about to tease you more your phone dinged. Making Dans eyes light up. “Is that him!” He squealed. “No.” You scoffed sighing when you looked at the screen dropping your arms to your side.

“It is him you’re blushing!” He gasped like a school girl. “It’s hot in here!” You denied but did feel butterflies at the congratulations text. “I want y’all’s kid named after me.”

Somehow you and Mick became friends carpooling from the hotels to track, interviews together now being about racing not just your names. The next race weekend you even had a Hass care package in your room from Mick saying his hat was your good luck charm. You won that race too, much to his amusement and he even scored in the points. The media loved the video of him spinning you around both covered in champagne.

The kiss you shared after your home win outed you both plus the photographs of you and Micks family on summer break did as well, his sister posting on social media a photo of a tense chess match between you and her brother with the caption ‘rivals on and off the track’ made the fans lose their minds.

Now seated next to each other during a press conference the other drivers teasing you seeing the heart eyes you both shared between questions. “Question for Y/n, with both you and Mick, having big names in F1 who’s name would you take if you get married?”

“Mine.” “Mine” you and Mick answered simultaneously. Making the room laugh. Mick who tried to seem serious, looked at you. “What about when we have kids they would have my name.” He laughed. And you shrugged playing along.

“Technically one already has Daniels name.” Making his eyes widen. And Daniel fall to the floor from somewhere behind the reporters. “Excuse me!”

“How about whoever has the most championships by the time we have kids that’s the name they get.” You offered knowing you were one race away from winning your first. Making Mick shake his head fondly at your antics. You humor and teasing that used to drive him up the wall now was his favorite thing about you, he loved it.

“Deal.”

That press conference ended up having the highest views in history because there’s only one thing people and Daniel and Seb loved more that rivals and it’s the story of enemies to lovers.

Next up. Lance stroll as marriage of convenience

Hope you guys liked it the first of the F1 romance tropes down more to come if youd like to be added to my F1 tag list please let me know!!!

F1 tag list. Note I only have one tag list it’s to hard to separate them by driver so if you’d like to be removed please send me a message . @starxqt @motylekrozi @yeolsbubbles @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mooone90 @damianodavidhands @zig-zzag @its-astrotea-love @peakywitch @obsessed-fan-alert @lenniebordeaux @marelovesf1 @capela-miranda @enjoymyloves @amsofftrack @coffeehurricanes @ricsaigaslec

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cool-cowboy · 4 months

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Summary:

In which an android Leon reveals some features to his model you were not aware of beforehand, then gives you a prime example of how he's better than a human man. I have no idea where this came from, just popped into my head and I figured someone out there would enjoy, so yeah, enjoy!

Tags:

Android Leon S. Kennedy, Obsession, Dominant Leon S. Kennedy, Master/Servant, alternate universe, Dirty talk, grinding, overstimulation, forced orgasm, babbling, crying

Blurb:

“I just… Didn’t know you had… Those kind of features.”

“Sorry. You’ve never expressed feelings of lust before, only now your heart rate is picking up, perspiration levels above average... Would you like me to enable sexual interaction in the options menu?”

Text:

“Leon, I’m home!” I tuck my shoes into their little spot beside the door, shucking off my jacket and leaving it on its hook, wandering through and into the family room, spotting him, standing perfectly still along the wall, blue neon swirling around his eyes, the only tell I get when an update is underway, other than his lack of response. I decide to leave him be, walking off into the kitchen, getting my things ready to cook supper, the lighting brighter than I like it in the evening, my trusty android friend not awake to employ my usual light and ambience settings, the quiet a little disturbing when I’m so used to the light music he puts on when I arrive home.

I cook in relative silence, making a meal for one, missing the chatter of my robot companion, curious to hear about his update, why it’s taking so long. It’s not traditional, the purpose I have for owning a device like him, usually they’re nothing but a housekeeper, someone to take care of the home and complete menial tasks, but I don’t find that useful, just enjoy having someone around, a friend, something like that. I’ve never assigned him a task, but he craves it, gives himself objectives if I can’t, tries his hardest to cater to my needs even if I don’t speak them.

I sit down with my meal, eating in quiet, seated at my little island, his chair empty, the space a little cooler than I like it. I’m bored, never used to quiet anymore, not with my constant companion making sure to keep conversation flowing, his devotion to me seeming more real than it probably is, his care programmed into him, but there nonetheless. He’s been speaking about feelings lately, if he’s capable, something that would usually get him sent in for a reset, but I don’t mind, and I do think he’s capable, his mind is superhuman after all.

“There you are.” He’s human, on the outside, looks perfectly believable, could walk around with me and have no one suspect he isn’t a normal man, the only difference what’s on the inside, some mechanical shit I have no idea how to explain, and AI that lets him know what I’m thinking, his intelligence unmatched, his mind full of anything I could ever want to know.

“How was the update?” He takes his seat beside me, straight-backed, his formality with his mannerisms something that took me a while to get used to, his speech slowly morphing to mimic mine, a comfort thing programmed into all androids to give a sense of familiarity, comfort with something often viewed as subhuman. His eyes glow blue, ready to rattle off the specs he’s downloaded, his voice a little more robotic than usual, his script taking him over.

“Update 16.2b, major tweaks under the belt, more realistic orgasm simulation, bugs fixed regarding the timed orgasm system, facial expressions refined, new commands available, more realistic erection phases, see more online at Update dot my android dot net.” I sit there, mouth gaping, not sure at all what to say to all that, never even thought about using my friend in that way, was never told I could, if I did want to. “Is something wrong?” I set my fork down, pushing my plate back, my appetite gone, some unwarranted butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

“I just… Didn’t know you had… Those kind of features.” He looks at me, eyes flashing blue, scanning my vitals, something that used to seriously creep me out, but doesn’t bother me much anymore, it’s habitual, a way for him to see how I’m feeling, get truths I’m not willing to give.

“Sorry. You’ve never expressed feelings of lust before, only now your heart rate is picking up, perspiration levels above average.” I don’t say anything, embarrassed he can tell so much about me, know my curious wants against my wishes. “Would you like me to enable sexual interaction in the options menu?” I can’t answer, too busy freaking out in my head, his blue eyes back to normal, still seeking information, always, gaze flitting over my face, small movements of my hands, his inspection leaving me on edge.

“So… You can feel pleasure?” I’m curious, though I’ve never wanted to use him, in any capacity, just wanted someone around, company, not a lover, especially not one who’s not in control of their own actions, autonomy not something he has much of, other than the settings I could turn off to let him have a little free reign, giving him permission to mill about while I’m gone, do as he pleases. He’s staring at me, head cocked, brows furrowed a little, his expression terribly human, inspecting me, trying his hardest to deduce my thoughts, his pointer finger drawing out calculations absently on the countertop as they run through his head.

“Not technically, pleasure is a chemical reaction, my form is just a simulation. I do feel it, the receptors go off when I complete a task. It’s new in update 14.6a, meant to be a better drive to please the owner. I assume you mean sexual pleasure, though. I can simulate it, up until orgasm, mostly realistic, other than the secretion part.” I have no idea why I’m just now hearing about this, most people would probably jump on the opportunity to have a partner so in tune with their body, literally able to do a scan and know what you need.

“Do you enjoy it, though? You want to?” He looks at me, my eyes, not doing any scanning, just looking at me, giving me a few seconds of quiet anticipation.

“You’re important to me, whether it’s programming or not, you’re attractive and a pleasant person, so I'd guess it would be enjoyable to please you in a more personal way, but I know you mean it differently… It’s not a craving I have, to satisfy myself, I mean, only to please you, in any way you see fit.” I swallow, his eyes flitting down, gazing at my hands, fisted and pressed to my thighs. It’s a moral dilemma, using something so intelligent for my own gain, but I suppose it can’t be too terrible, he’d get the equivalent of an orgasm, plus whatever pleased feeling he gets from making me happy. “You seem interested. I will turn on sexual activity permissions in the options menu.” Damn his autonomy, I may have went too far, allowing him access to his own options, his eyes glowing blue as he sinks into his own brain, flipping on whatever part of him has been dormant all this time before returning to me, his expression normal, no different than my usual Leon, casual, doting.

“You did it?” He nods, scanning me, not at all put off by my nervousness, looking at me again, a little more intense than usual, trying to figure me out.

“How was work?” I wonder if I have to initiate it, ask him for it. It would be preferable, though I don’t think I’ll ever use this hidden feature if he doesn’t just jump me, but that doesn’t seem fitting, he’s too soft spoken, reserved.

“Good, I got a new account today, diamonds, the commission is gonna be insane.” He seems pleased, a little whirring sound similar to a hum rumbling in his chest as he stands, moving to take care of my dish, no prompt necessary. I used to feel bad about it, but he really doesn’t mind, lives to care, I guess.

“That’s great. I sent over the files you asked for, they’re under 6.24.5 in the main folder.” I nod, glad he could locate them, my own search not going very well, the information integral to a company I’ve been assigned. He sets the dishes out once he’s done washing, set neatly in their little drying rack, his body moving swiftly back around the counter, his hand ghosting across the back of my shoulders making me flinch, not used to any casual touches between us, the only contact he really ever initiates is caring for any wounds he detects, little cuts, things like that. “You’re aroused, would you like me to-”

“You don’t have to.” My cheeks are flaming, thighs tight together, embarrassment hot on my skin, the light aroused feeling flaring now that he’s brought attention to it. He steps beside me, turning my chair around to face him, slotting himself between my knees, a light touch on my jaw drawing my eyes up, light blue trained on me, his forwardness dizzying, unexpected when I’m so used to his usual self.

“You’re uncomfortable, I can release that tension.” He runs his hand down my neck, smoothing over my shoulder, his touch light, my small shiver prompting him to squeeze a little, the warmth of his skin unexpected, even if I did know it was there, another human feature to make him more real. “You don’t need to worry about if I’d like to. I do, you know I live to please you.” That gets me, his voice lower than usual, a rough, sensual quality to it, his willingness not unexpected, but still shocking. He has a hand on my knee, inching up, almost too slow to notice, his other sliding back up my neck to keep my eyes on him, eye contact something he's always been a fan of, picked it up from conversations and my own mannerisms, is now using it to ruin me, make me nervous.

“I don’t know…” It’s weird, to proposition him in this way, even if it isn’t my idea, allowing it is still on me, my commands headed without any pushback, unless my decision is stupid, then he tells me all the reasons I’m wrong. He hums, sliding his hand back into my hair, his palm a little rough, his eyes peering down at me, a little lower than normal, all of him drawing me in, his actions and words and expression undeniably sexy, which makes sense, considering he has the entire internet and more at his disposal.

“I have to admit, I am curious. It’s my nature, I guess, but I wanna try it, feel the way humans do, engage in something so sought after.” He’s very convincing, convincing enough for me to refrain from stopping him when he starts to lean down, thumb pressing under my jaw to tilt my head up, hand on my lower thigh squeezing. He takes his time, watching my reaction, leaning in slow, his chest heaving with even breaths, his lips parted, close to mine. “Grant me sexual autonomy.” He’s never asked, never expected any of his autonomy settings, other than this one, I guess, not that I mind, I’d prefer he had it, didn’t do anything out of his control, revert into his more robotic self to fulfill my wishes.

“Turn on sexual autonomy in the options menu.” His eyes flash blue, his body going rigid, only for a moment, before he’s back, looking at me, seeming eager, searching my eyes for any sign of disapproval, finding none. He runs his hand further up my leg, eyes cast down to the contact, his lips parted, almost awed.

“Your skin is… Soft. Feels fuzzy, you’re so warm…” His processes are going haywire, I can see it on his face, his mind racing to keep up with what he’s doing, digging through all the information he has to do a good job. “I’ve never felt like this before, this kind of pleasure is different, like it’s for me.” He’s not meant to have feelings, of any kind, but he does, in his own way, lets his mood depend on his helpfulness, even if I’ve urged and convinced him to see himself as his own being, he’s not wired that way.

“It is… I don’t- uh, It’s about you too, okay?” He hums, the low whir in his chest making me smile, one of the few things that reminds me he’s a machine. He moves, tentative, his hand slipping further up my thigh, fingers holding onto my hair, pulling gently when his lips meet mine, plush and smooth, his kiss gentle, unsure, none of the information he has able to tell him the best way to go about this. I move against him, setting a little faster of a pace, letting my hand slide up his stomach, his shaky exhale breathed against my lips.

“Tell me what you like.” He presses his forehead to mine, looking at me, lips and cheeks flushed, his hand hot on my thigh. He can’t take it, not being fully prepared for everything, having to figure things out as they come, his algorithmic brain not able to work through something he has no expertise on. “Don’t just look at me, tell me what you want me to be.” His brows are drawing together, analyzing, trying to figure it out before I even reply.

“What do you wanna be?” He has a personality, one to suit mine, of course, but he never asked for it, developed it, like a child growing up. I don’t want him to play a role, he must have some sort of instinct on how to act, how to be without me commanding him.

“I don’t know.” He’s never not known, he’s a genius, of course, knows everything there is to know, figures out anything he doesn’t. He looks pained, searching my eyes for an answer I can’t give, his hand tracing his equations into my skin. “All I know is I want you… I wanna see you fall apart, make you feel good, be the best lover you could ask for.” I kiss him, bringing my arms up around his neck, drawing him closer between my legs, his pleased hum making me smile, a good reaction from him, real, not asked for, just genuine feeling. His hand slips further up my leg, up to squeeze gently over my hip, feeling me, not looking to please, just letting himself do what he wants, exploring one of the few things he doesn’t know much about, his own form of pleasure. He follows my lead, moving plush lips against mine, the feeling insanely real, the heat of him a little higher than usual, his body heating up in response to my touch, my hands dug into soft locs of hair, pulling gently to separate his lips from mine, his mouth pressing to mine in one last, feverish kiss before he pulls back, eyes wide, wild with untapped pleasure.

“Is this okay?” He nods, swallowing, his lips parting to draw in heavy breaths, his hand sliding up my side, hot over my shirt, his warmth making me both soft and want to squirm.

“Yes, feels good. This is… I never imagined I could feel like this. It’s you, I’m not supposed to feel desire, this isn’t in my programming… Don’t reset me, I’ll be good, swear. I won’t deviate, I just… This is not in the script…” He seems stumped, frustrated at his lack of understanding what’s going on inside him, but I suppose he isn’t meant to have this much freedom, live like a normal person, other than the fact he has no need for a job, and is a machine.

“Leon? It’s okay to feel, okay? You’re not a toaster, yeah?” He laughs, low and rough, shaking his head, some of the robotic tension leeching from him. “Stop thinking so much.” He nods, eyes flashing blue, returning to normal when he blinks it away. “Sorry.” I didn’t mean to command him, but he doesn’t mind, it happens all the time, and he’s happy to oblige, anyways.

“It’s okay… Should we… Continue?” I gulp, and he leans back in, kissing me the way I like, learning quickly, as always, his big hand sliding up my back, fingers teasing at the hem of my shirt before slipping up my spine, my back arching at the gentle touch, his little pleased noise vibrating against my lips. The chair isn’t very comfortable, and my neck is straining from him standing over me, and he knows it, parting his lips from mine and tilting my jaw back down, forcing me to look up at him through my lashes, his expression sinful, eyes low, lips lightly parted, all of him hot, his skin warmer than mine. “You’re uncomfortable.” I nod, not very happy he paused to say that, but glad he cares enough to not leave me in discomfort. “I’ll take you to your room.” He pulls me up out of my chair by my ass, letting my legs drape over his hips, a sizable erection between us, one of his arms holding me up, the other holding my head still as he dips down, kissing at my neck, slow and sweet, his lips spit-slick. He’s walking, letting himself move through the space without looking, letting out a pleased rumble when I exhale a shaky breath.

“Leon, you don’t have to be so gentle…” He groans, the sound low and guttural, his lips pressing a little more feverishly to my skin, his hand squeezing my ass, the other slipping up the back of my shirt, smoothing up my skin, ticklish, making me arch into him, my chest pressed to his, his happy sigh hot on my skin. He leans me back, supporting my weight until I’m laid out on my bed, him on his knees between my legs, scanning, eyes flashing bright before he closes them, ignoring his instinct to run his hands up my thighs, peering down at my face, pushing up on the hem of my shirt, exposing my stomach, his lips coming down to skim up my thigh, one hand on the outside of my knee, holding it still, his lips warm and wet as he trails them up, his eyes on mine, his free hand finding my hip, pressing me into the mattress as he makes his way to my stomach, kissing across the waist of my pants, up toward my belly button, watching me, holding me still with gentle, nonaggressive pressure.

“I need you to tell me… Wanna be good for you… Feels good to make you feel good. I can’t figure it all out, you told me not to think…” He’s a little out of it, not nearly as composed as usual, eyes hazy, movements a little less practiced, but still confident, what information he does have allowing him to not be too unsure of himself. I push him, frowning at his questioning look, forgetting he’s a mostly immovable object.

“Get off.” He pulls back, sitting back on his heels, looking at me with wide eyes, flashing blue, then normal, none of the lust that was there a second ago visible, either put on pause or diminished due to my command.

“Sorry. I’m trying, I just don’t know-”

“Get on your back.” He does, drops down beside me, laid out flat, looking a little silly, considering I’ve never seen him in a bed, he usually sleeps standing, just shuts down for the night, doesn’t need any comfort. I turn over, taking a turn sitting up over him, one knee slotted between his legs, watching him, liking how unsure he looks, something I’ve never seen from him, one thing that separates him from a human. “You still want this?” I feel like I’m coercing him, even if I’m not, his mind far more developed than mine, if anything. I let my fingers trail up his thigh, his jeans rough on my fingers, his faux muscles tensing under my light touch.

“Yes. I’ve never wanted anything, besides this. It’s… Exhilarating, you’re so pretty above me.” My mouth pops open, not at all expecting his compliment, or his hand on my hip, pressing me down over his clothed leg, putting pressure on my clit, the action so forward I nearly gasp.

“Didn’t know dirty talk was part of the programming…” I watch my fingers, pushing up on the bottom of his tee, ghosting my fingers up the skin of his stomach, his abs tight and hot under my touch, his body reacting so intensely, wound up from such a simple touch.

“It’s not. You asked me to be honest.” I did, months ago, when he lied, about nothing important, but still, I see no need for it, at least from him. I nod, wetting my lips and leaning down, pressing them lightly just below his belly button, watching his face, expression back to the hazy, needy one he was giving me a few minutes ago. “Can I..?” He uses his grip on my hip to grind me against his thigh, pushing it up a little further between my legs, offering delicious pressure, the roughness of fabric between us a little shocking.

“Yeah. Do what you want.” He’s sat up on one elbow, watching me, kissing down, skimming my lips along toward his hip, my hand gripped to the waist of his pants, slipping down, fingertips gliding over his erection making him flinch, the low whirring coming back, rumbling through his chest for a few seconds, his hand gently rocking me against him. “Feel good?” He clenches his jaw, looking worried, brows drawn low and together, his eyes barely open, cloudy with lust.

“Yes, too good, I’m overheating, you feel so good, you’re hands are-” He cuts himself off with a choked noise, eyes squeezed closed and his head tipped back, my hand palming him over his pants, offering a little relief in whatever form of pleasure he gets, a strong one, judging by his reaction.

“Sensitive, huh?” He drags my hips a little rougher, eliciting a small, groaned out noise from me, seeming pleased with himself when I open my eyes, his lips pulled up in a little smile, eyes cast down at his leg between my thighs.

“You can turn down sensitivity in the options menu, would you like me to-”

“No. Don’t change anything, stay just like this…” I press my hand more firmly to him, grinding my palm into him, his hips shifting below me making me smile, his breathing a little erratic. His leg is trembling, only the one between my legs, vibrating almost, making me let out a shaky breath. “Wha- Are you-?” He huffs out a laugh, nodding, slamming his head back into the pillow when I grind my hand into him, rough, gripping him through his pants and jerking it, squeezing him, his low groan heavenly.

“Update 12.6a- I have lots of perks. No human can-ah- match up.” He punctuates his words by turning up the vibration, my body slumping, back hunched a little from how harsh it is, before he turns it back down, a little more gentle, other than how roughly hes grinding me against his thigh. “Let me take these off.” He pulls on the waist of my pants, deft fingers moving to unbutton them, undoing the zipper, his free hand coming down to ease them over my hips, his upper body sitting up, and arm around my waist pulling me up enough to get them down my legs, my feet kicking until they tumble to the floor. He takes it in, me sitting in front of him, his hands sliding up my thighs, thumbs teasing under the sides of my panties before continuing up. “You’re gorgeous… I’m so lucky, having a master as good as you.” I clench my thighs around him, gazing up into his eyes, loving the way he’s looking at me, like I’m the only thing on earth, at least the only one that matters. He’s pushing up on my shirt, looking into my eyes as he eases it up, pausing until I lift my arms, giving him permission, letting him pull it up and over my head, his eyes dipping down as he tosses it away, his hands sliding up my sides.

“Don’t you think you should take something off?” He doesn’t reply, just drags my leg up over his hip, straddling me over him, his lips skimming my collar bone, his breathing quick, hands sliding around to drag down my back, resting just above my ass, grinding me into him, his low groan hot on my skin. “C’mon, let me take this off.” I pull on his shirt, and he relents, pulling back and doing it for me, going back to what he was doing, kissing his way down from my collar bone, sucking gently on the skin above my bra, taking my low sigh as my assent, sucking the skin into his mouth and using an arm around my waist to hold me firmly against him, his hand still on my hip working me into his erection, which seems to be getting bigger, slotted nicer against me, giving me intense friction, his jeans rough against my panties.

“Feels so good… You’re so good… Your heart rate is higher than I’ve ever recorded, your body is responding so nicely. Love making you feel good.” He moans, for real, the sound nothing like the whirring hum of his groans, more human, wanton and needy, enjoying himself. “So pretty… Is there anything I can do better?” He’s a little breathless, turning us over and easing me down onto my back, looming over me, one hand rested beside my head, the other gripped to the outside of my thigh, keeping it hooked over his hip. “Is there?” I forgot to respond, too busy staring at him above me, looking so big, strong, his strength never something I thought about before, other than that he was stronger than me.

“Just… Enjoy yourself.” His muscles relax, his expression soft, none of the usual intensity behind his eyes, his elbow bending to bring his lips to mine, his body heating further, not used to all this excitement, his body humming with quiet energy. He’s grinding into me, hips sliding perfectly against me, the drag along my clit drawing a low moan out of me. “Le- Take these off.” I’m pulling at his pants, working the button until he takes over, clumsily shoving his pants down his legs, letting his head tuck down into my neck to free up his other hand, kicking his pants off and onto the floor.

“You take this off.” He sits up on his elbow, nosing and kissing at the side of my throat, pulling on my bra. I laugh, his pleased whirring tickling me, his hand running down my stomach.

“You do it, bossy.” He groans, pressing his hand back behind me, unclipping it much easier than I thought he would, not bothering to sit up to pull it down my arms, his mouth running down from my throat, mouth closing over a nipple, tongue lathing over it, his eyes peering up at me, his eyes low and pleased. He moans, vibrating against me, sucking where his lips are latched to my skin, his hand running up my thigh to press his thumb to my clit, surprising me, his lips pulling from my skin when I flinch, eyes on mine as he kisses his way to the opposite side, rubbing gently up and down over my panties.

“Feels good? I hope so… Let’s get these off.” He sits up, gripping onto the sides of my panties, staring at me as he pulls them down, tossing them off to the side and settling back down over me, nosing my head to the side to mouth at my throat, pressing his lips to my pulse, bringing his thumb back to my clit, rubbing soft circles. “Mmh, there we go, I’ll take good care of you, make you feel so good you’ll never need anyone else. You’re doing so good, looking so perfect and letting me please you…” He kisses his way back up, pressing his lips to mine, wet and open-mouthed, not messy, but needy, rushed, his thumb moving a little quicker against me, giving a little more pressure, my legs starting to shake. “There you go, you’re nearly there, oxytocin levels are skyrocketing, go ahead, want you to finish, let me see how pretty you are when you really feel it.” I moan, squirming against him, my orgasm coming, his face pulling a little further back to look at me, smiling, his expression a mix of lusty and pleased. “C’mon, give it to me, want you to feel good, finish from my fingers-” He doesn’t mind my nails digging into my arms, just works me through it, thumb light on my clit, his eyes on mine, watching me squirm and tilt my head back, the sensation becoming too much, his thumb pulling away the second it does.

“Shit, let me have a turn.” I shove at him, huffing a laugh when he feigns being pushed over, laid out on his back in his underwear, waiting on me to give him direction. I run my hand up his leg, gripping the band of his underwear and pulling down, getting them off and getting rid of them before kissing my way up his thigh, looking at him, the anticipation getting to him, his lips parted, brows pulled down and together.

“I don’t need this.” It would leave a bruise on my ego, if I didn’t know he’s just being honest, not that I care if he needs it, only if he wants it. “I don’t want to waste your time, I don’t require any type of foreplay.” I frown, kissing his base, peering at him over his dick, which is hanging heavy over his stomach.

“Can you get off like this?” I wrap my hand around him, smiling when he flinches, his dick twitching in my hand. I work it over him, keeping it slow, waiting on his reply, his eyes hazy with swirls of blue, systems crashing briefly before he’s back, letting out a light moan, carding a hand through my hair.

“No, I- The orgasm simulation can only progress if I’m inside, and you’re finishing too.” I hum, stroking a little rougher, tilting my head at him when he groans, his hips shifting, the pleasure a little too much, his expression almost fearful.

“It feels good, though?” He nods, head leaning back and eyes closed, letting me do what I want, enjoying himself, just like I asked. “Good.” I wait until he’s opened his eyes back up to lick from base to tip, closing my mouth around him and sinking down, his heady moan mouthwatering, really, drool coating his dick when I pull back up, watching him, his eyes hazy, his hand pulling at my hair when I suck him in again, bobbing up and down.

“Nnh- hey, do you want me to- I can-” He presses his knee up between my legs, rubbing it against me, making me moan around his dick. “There… Perfect…” He sounds pleased, whatever tension was plaguing him loosening now that he sees himself as being of use, rubbing his knee against my clit, offering some relief from the arousal he’s sparked inside with this new, needier self. “Do you wanna finish like this? I understand the usual progression would have me inside by now-”

“Shit, okay. Let’s get to it, then, if you don’t wanna take your time.” I sit up over him, looking at him, shuffling my way up until I’m hovering over his lap, his eyes on me as he sits up, his hands on my waist, his chest heaving.

“You’re ready?” I nod, waiting patiently as he reaches down, eyes hazy, aligning himself and pulling me slowly down onto him by my waist, the stretch less than painful, more than comfortable, not quite as snug as he could be. I’m a little above his face when he bottoms out, eyes swirling with blue for a few seconds before he blinks it away, shaking the heaviness out of his head, looking up at me and coming closer, holding me against him, keeping me seated on his dick as he kisses me, sloppier, messy and needy, my arms wrapped around his neck, his dick twitching and filling me a little fuller, the odd sensation making me pull back to give him a questioning look. “A perfect fit.” He doesn’t seem bothered, so I let the disturbed feeling settle, attempting to pull up off him, but big hands hold me still, keeping himself seated fully inside, melded to the walls, truly a perfect fit. “Let me stay like this, just for a minute… I like this, being impossibly close, feeling you in a way not many people get to…” He goes back to kissing, running his hands down to grip my hips, lifting me slowly up, letting me drop back down over him, his low groan breathed against my lips.

“Can I-”

“Let me do it.” I sigh, relenting, his hands lifting me up and sliding me back down, slow, keeping eye contact, pleased I’m giving him the choice, considering how easy it is to get him to do whatever I want. He keeps the slow pace, staring at my face, seeming pleased, his expression a mix of pleasure and calculativeness, trying to figure out the best way to finish me off, I suppose. “I’ll speed up soon, build-up is important, I don’t wanna deny you what you deserve, wanna be good…” He’s moving too slow, giving enough to fill me up, but not to do much else.

“I already came, Leon, build-up is irrelevant.” He nods, furrowing his brows and speeding up, keeping his grip firm, not letting me bounce, but bouncing me, keeping his eyes on mine, a low moan passing his lips when I clench around him, his pace quickening a little more, slaps of skin to skin sounding in my room adding a layer of intensity, his thumb pressing back to my clit prompting me to let my head lean back, a low, drawn out moan escaping him at the sight.

“You feel so nice inside, so warm, squeezed tight around me… God, this is the best I’ve ever felt, you feel good too, oxytocin is increasing-nnh- how many more times can you finish? Three? I’ll give you three more, wanna see you near tears, all from how good it feels.” He’s feverish, losing his usual stoicness, speaking rushed and breathless, his chest heaving, his hand working me over him, squeezing the fat of my ass, angling his hips further up, the drag along my insides unexpected, making me moan and drop my forehead to his shoulder, sweaty, searing hot on my skin. I’m shaking, letting him work me over him, letting out pleasured noises along with him, his face now tucked into the crook of my neck. “You’re getting worked up quick… I won’t even need the vibration, you’re almost ready, so tight, making such pretty sounds for me…” He holds me up, pausing, leaning back on one hand and dragging my upper body along with him, thrusting up into me, much quicker than he could’ve worked me over him, making me whine into his neck, spit slicking his skin, his hips slamming up into me, hands slipping up to my back to hold me in place so he can fuck into me, his voice getting higher, whinier. “There, now-ah, this is one out of three, so- so you still have two more after this, need you to finish, wet my dick some more, you’re shaking so nice, good thing I’m strong enough to hold you still…” I’ve never heard him curse before, I guess he’s doing his homework on dirty talk mid deed, his background processes doing him well, his words before now not all that enticing with his usual wording.

“Did you-

“Yes, wanted to be good, am I? Shit, tell me I’m good, wanna be good for you, make you feel so good you can’t think. You’re all I think about, you know that? You’re everything to me, I need to please you, make you cum all over my dick a few times before I’m finished.” I moan, shaking embarrassingly violently, nearly there, his dick filling me a little fuller, thrusts a little more needy, rutting up into me, making me whine into his shoulder, orgasm approaching, his nonstop thrusts working me up. “That’s it, gonna make you feel good, please you, have you soaking me, out of it from how good it feels, cumming on me over and fucking over.” My orgasm is shocking, the second I clamp down on him he presses me back down, holding me as I squirm and moan into his neck, grinding into me, stretching it out, pulling out of me once I still, guiding me to lay on my stomach, my body slumping down, ready for rest, until I feel hands pulling up on my hips, lifting me up to rest on my knees, chest and side of my face still pressed to the sheets.

“What are you..?” He presses inside, keeping it slow, aware I’m still coming down from my orgasm, his hands gently rocking me against him.

“This position is good for deep penetration, and I figured your legs were getting tired.” He speaks plainly, like he isn’t on his way to giving me my third orgasm in a couple minutes, his hips speeding up a little once he’s sure I can take it, his hands squeezing on my hips, rough and warm and big. “I’ll know when you’re satisfied, I’ll initiate the orgasm simulation when you’re ready.” He speaks matter of factly, and it would be funny, if he wasn’t fucking me into my mattress, low moans escaping me, my mind swimming, fuzzy and mushy, his hips noisy against me, his upper body folding over me, an arm around my waist pulling me into hars thrusts, his noises muffled into my shoulder blade, his lips kissing and sucking wherever he can reach. “Feels good? Well, I know it-shit- It does. Just- If there’s another-ah- something you prefer…” I let out a noise I hope sounds negative, succumbing to the numb, hazy pleasure, taking what he gives, his noises going higher, near the end of the line, if he could cum without having to initiate it, that is. “So- pretty-! You feel so good, pulling me in, letting me give you all you can-hah- take…” I’m nearly there, my third orgasm coming, the pleasure turning nearly painful, good in an awful, striking way, my legs trembling harshly, his fingers sneaking down to rub at my clit, his moan loud against me when I clench, muscles going tight, so close, my orgasm almost refusing to come. “Come on, quit holding yourself back, you can do it, you’ve had plenty of time. You’ve got it, you’re right there, just squeeze this sweet pussy on me, let me feel it, yeah, there you go, that’s it, fucking whining for it, you sound so damn good…” He fucks me through it, again, keeps his hold around my waist when I try to escape, the sensations too much, my low groan finally getting him to pull out, turning me over and giving me a break by capturing my lips, kissing me feverishly, pressing his knees up under my hips and leaning over me, his dick brushing agoinst me drawing a low whine out of me.

“No more, Leon, no more… I’m finished…” He pulls back, looking me over, eyes flashing blue, his look pensive.

“No you’re not.” He pushes inside, my low groan ignored, his eyes on me, watching me. “You think you can’t- handle more, but you can, can take this one and another, I’ll keep you cumming until you really can’t take it.” He doesn’t thrust, lets me finish coming down, kissing me and keeping a finger against my pulse, waiting for it to slow down before moving, both of us moaning at the drag of him inside.

“Just this one… I don’t want another.” I couldn’t take it, honestly, I’m already entirely fucked out, nearly unresponsive as he rocks inside, grinding up on his way out, my overstimulated nerves making me moan, painful pleasure still somehow enjoyable, even if I am trying to convince him I’ve had enough.

“No, you can take it. I know what you need, know you better than you know yourself.” He does, in a way, knows about my inner workings and psychology and the like, but I know this is killing me, tears in my eyes, his body too big and immovable for me to stop him from taking care of me, forcing me to finish the amount of times he sees fit. “Gonna make sure you’re satisfied, show you how good I am, how good I can be for you…” I’m shaking already, way too worked up, orgasms fading into a hazy pleasure, everything a blanket of hot and muggy sweetness, his lips meeting mine making me moan, his hips working into me, another orgasm well on its way with his relentless actions. “This one then another, okay? You can take it.” I pull him back, looking into his eyes, trying to focus, tears blurring my vision, my eyes half closed from how good it feels, how intense and terrifyingly good this is.

“Leon, begin-shit- begin orgasm simulation-!” He groans, head tucking down to my neck, his hips working more purposefully, all of him hot against me, a thumb working at my clit making me jerk, squirming away, but he keeps me still, working us both up, his noisiness gaining volume, making me almost worried the neighbors will hear.

“That’s- I wasn’t done, sneaky-ah- girl. Fuck, feels so good, love making you feel good, being good for my-nnh- Master-!” I moan, usually adverse to the title, but my hazy brain loves it, too full of him to really mind, letting him send me toward my final orgasm, if only to chase his, though that’s not the case, considering I have to get off for him to. “Shit, please, can’t-ah- Take anymore-! I’m fuckin’ overloading, you feel too good, squeezing me so tight, hot and wet and-Nnh-! Please, give it to me, let me please you one more time, it hurts, need you to cum, trap me inside and-” He whines, burying his face in my neck and fucking me through it, twitching inside the second I squeeze around him, his whiny moan drawing a pleased noise out of me as he slows, pulling out after a few more seconds, not moving to force anymore out of me, just kissing lightly up the side of my neck, easing himself up onto a hand to look at me, eyes flashing blue.

“Are you scanning for your performance right now?” He smiles, almost coy, pressing his hand to my skin, taking my vitals, not even trying to be subtle.

“Course. I meant it when I said I live to please.”

#re smut #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #robots #smut

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voraciousvore · 2 months

Text

Giganterra (Chapter 1)

Prologue | Chapter 2

Content Warning: Soft, safe, unwilling vore

Word Count: 2.1k

------ Chapter 1: A Typical Royal Dinner ------

Six years later…

Crown Prince Ronny, the adult heir to the throne, sat down at his usual spot at the table, on the right-hand side of his father, the king. King Richard claimed his rightful place at the head of the table, and Princess Bianca, the youngest by about two years, sat across from her brother Ronny. The king’s personal guard Ajax, his shadow, stood discreetly off to the side behind his seat, ever watchful.

Ronny, dour as always, glared at his sister, who stuck her tongue out at him in response. He scoffed superciliously and removed his gloves for dinner, folding them neatly on the table. He was rescued from having to converse with his loathsome family members by the servants, who came in balancing plates loaded with vittles. Ronny sat in a gloomy silence as Chester, the royal food taster, checked each entrée for poison. He curled his lip with mild disgust when he was given his portion: prime rib, sautéed swiss chard, and scalloped potatoes, with a human dressed in a light sauce.

Bianca had a similar reaction, poking and prodding the tiny woman on her plate with her fork. The woman winced, but stayed silent and didn’t try to run, knowing the consequences of resisting giant royalty would be far more gruesome. “Daddy, when are we going to get more humans? It’s been a while since the last tribute.”

King Richard wiped his lips daintily with a napkin as he gleefully swallowed the human on his own plate. “Hmmm… it’s been a while, hasn’t it? We are certainly overdue for some fresh meat.”

The giantess princess perked up. “If so, can you order some little men this time? Pleeeeeease? Ladies are fine and all, but they’re all we ever get, and I want a handsome boy to play with…” She pouted, scraping her fork with an obnoxious screech on her dish. Her human repast covered her ears and grimaced. Ronny rolled his eyes.

The king gave his daughter a knowing smirk and chuckled lightly. “I’ll see what I can arrange, my darling.” He picked up his knife and cut into his meat, which leaked blood onto his plate.

Ronny shook his head and dug into his own meal, flicking the human carelessly off his slab of prime rib. He didn’t understand his father’s obsession with tiny maidens, or his sister’s fascination with miniature men. Why couldn’t she be normal for once and content herself with an attractive giant instead? Humans were fine for eating, when he was in the right mood, but otherwise Ronny found them to be gross vermin, clambering around with their wiry legs like bugs. Distracted by his thoughts, he failed to notice his tiny female side dish had crawled off the edge of his plate. He put a bite of meat in his mouth, and his face puckered with detestation.

“Ugh!” he groaned, spitting the offending meat back onto his dish without concern for decorum. “Nasty!” His face turned purple with rage. “Bring me the royal chef!” he bellowed. The servants scrambled to obey. Soon enough, the obese chef rushed into the dining room, huffing and puffing with the effort.

“Yes, Your Highness? How may I best serve you?” he asked nervously, wringing his hands and picking at his blond mustache. He was sweating profusely, his skin ruddy with exertion.

“Bucky!” Ronny roared. “This food isn’t fit to serve to a dog! The meat is cold in the middle and saltier than the sea! Dumping a mountain of salt on such a bland cut doesn’t improve the flavor, you cretin! I’m a prince, and I deserve only the best, not this offensive rubbish!”

His temper flared as he got worked up into a frenzy. He stood up out of his chair and gesticulated with his hands aggressively. “You’re a sorry excuse for a cook, you worthless piece of shit! Just look at these vegetables! Wilted strings reeking of too much garlic and swimming in watery juices! And these potatoes! Unpalatable texture, lumpy and uneven, tasteless paste! Unacceptable, reprehensible slop!”

He picked up the plate and hurled it against the wall with all his might, shattering the porcelain and staining the wall and expensive carpeting with juices. The servants hurried forward to clean up the mess in a hush. Nobody was especially surprised by his tantrum: The servants were accustomed to unhinged outbursts from the royal family. Ronny ignored them and continued to verbally berate the chef, who pointedly stared at his feet. Ronny shoved his finger into his fat chest as he ranted in his face, spitting and swearing. After several minutes of screaming at the top of his lungs and frothing at the mouth, Ronny finally cooled down, dismissing the silent chef with a contemptuous wave of his hand. His face changed from pink back to its usual pasty shade. He crossed his arms petulantly and slumped in his chair.

“Good job, Ronny,” King Richard praised, grinning wide. “Sometimes you need to put the commoners in their place and make them fear you.” He chomped down on a bite of meat, clearly enjoying his meal despite his son’s scathing condemnation of its quality. Ronny shrugged, still scowling. The servants, so inferior to the royals as to be invisible to them, cleaned up his mess in the background.

Bianca was unperturbed by Ronny venting his spleen, continuing to toy with the human on her plate as she ate the food around her. Eventually, she got bored and lifted the poor woman up by her leg, studying her wriggling with a cold inquisitiveness. She lowered the tiny woman headfirst into her mouth, licking her face and closing her plump lips around her torso before slurping her flailing legs inside with the rest of her body. She sucked on the delicious morsel for a while, shuffling her from one cheek to the other, before sending her off on a trip to her stomach with a hearty gulp.

She watched as the servants flitted anxiously back to the table, bringing with them a sumptuous feast of roasted partridge and yams for the picky prince. He sulked as the royal food taster sampled each portion and cleared the food for consumption. The servants backed away, sweating nervously as Ronny tasted the partridge. The bratty prince raised an eyebrow and grunted, but didn’t complain. The tension dissipated among the servants and they disappeared into the background again, relieved not to be on the receiving end of another explosive fit.

“Hey, Ronny, what happened to the human in your food?” Bianca queried.

Ronny shrugged as he continued to shovel food into his mouth. “Fuck if I know. She probably ended up as a red stain on the wall.”

King Richard frowned. “What a waste.” He gave Ronny a stern look. The aura in the room subtly changed, as if the air itself chilled. “Don’t squash your humans so carelessly, Ronny. They are valuable, and we can only extract so many without them revolting against us.”

Ronny stiffened. “Of course, Father,” he mumbled, casting his eyes downward. “I won’t do it again.” The king assumed a milder expression, accepting his words, and the mood lightened again. Ronny repressed a shudder.

“I never understood why you don’t just conquer the human kingdom, enslave the populace, and farm them,” Bianca remarked, tilting her head. “Wouldn’t that make more sense? Then you can have as many as you want.”

The king sighed and shook his head. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. Haven’t you noticed the humans that are here for a long time tend to lose their unique flavor and vitality? That’s because, if they’re not fed and cared for well, and they grow sad, they become frailer, weaker, and less appealing to the palate. That’s why over time we need fresh tributes, and why I usually dispose of them, when they are no longer of any use to us for our personal pleasure.”

He licked his lips as he finished the last bite of his dinner. “I prefer my humans to be free-range, so to speak, and of high quality. That standard of health isn’t possible if they were all forcibly imprisoned. Happy humans also multiply in greater numbers, which is even better for us. Let them have their silly little kingdom, go about their lives, and exist in blissful ‘freedom.’ As long as they give us our rightful share and don’t complain, I will be content.”

He inserted his fingers into his pocket and pulled out a small, trembling woman. “Of course, as you know, not all humans go stale! I still have my favorites, like my cute sweet little Millie, now don’t I?” He grinned roguishly and nuzzled her with his nose.

“Y-yes, of course, Your Majesty! I would never want to disappoint you!” the poor creature squeaked, out of fright rather than affection. Ronny looked away, repulsed by the display. He hated his father’s distasteful perversions and could hardly stand to watch. Bianca stared at him with jealousy, wishing she had a tiny man to kiss and pet and play with. King Richard always exclusively requested maidens as tribute, and she was fed up with his selfishness. She was used to always getting what she wanted, so the fact that she couldn’t have one irritated her to no end.

The servants cleared the dirty dishes off the table and brought slices of cheesecake for dessert. King Richard removed a small vial from his pocket full of a glowing blue potion and dripped a drop onto Millie’s head. Her face paled with dread as her body absorbed the substance, a magical anti-digestion fluid that would keep her unharmed inside his stomach. He pressed her into the soft dessert with his index finger up to her shoulders. She turned her head away from him, and Ronny spotted quiet tears glistening on her cheeks. The prince switched his attention to his own dessert and ate in silence, ignoring the display.

King Richard scooped up Millie with his fork and licked the sweet filling off her body, chuckling at her small whines of discomfort. He gently enveloped her in his mouth, humming with delight. After slopping his tongue all over her and sliding her against the inner walls of his teeth, he took another bite of cheesecake and rolled her around with it, sucking it all up with pleasure. He continued in this manner until he finished his entire slice before finally gulping down the small lady.

Ronny hastened to excuse himself from the table, grabbing up his gloves. As he lifted them, he noticed an abnormal weight inside, caused by a small, shivering lump. He flipped the glove and dumped its mystery contents out on the table, only to discover the food human that he thought he’d thrown across the room was hidden inside. She tumbled out and landed on the hard surface with a splattering of sauce.

Ronny glared at her, then at his fancy gloves, soiled inside with sauce. “Ugh! Look what you did, you filthy little rat! These gloves are ruined!” He flung the gloves away, his dark eyes flashing as his white-hot wrath returned with a vengeance. The woman’s eyes widened and she cowered before the giant man looming above her like a mountain. She had already narrowly escaped death when he smashed his dinner plate against the wall; she knew what he was capable of with his volatile temper.

The giant prince slammed his fist on the table next to her, startling her to her feet. Even standing up, she was shorter than his stacked fingers; he could easily crush her in his grasp like an insect. Her legs turned into useless rubber beneath her as she comprehended the futility of resisting and collapsed to the table. Ronny unclenched his fist and grabbed her up, raising her close to his face.

“Vile, foul worm,” he grumbled as she whimpered helplessly in his hand. “I’ll make you pay for that.” He knew humans hated to be eaten, so he shoved her into his mouth and swallowed her hard, sending her straight to the fleshy prison in his midsection. King Richard grinned with approval as he observed his son. Ronny stormed off in a huff, stomping on his gloves and kicking them to the side on his way out.

He clomped down one of the many stony corridors of the castle, fuming with irritation. He could feel the human fighting inside his gut as she was jostled about by his rapid steps. That idiotic human deserved her punishment. Those gloves were custom-made, based on the measurements of his hands, and now he’d have to order a new pair from the royal tailor. Such an inconvenience!

Chapter 2

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daisychainsandbowties · 1 month

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Lilith in N7 armor, though…

It may or may not surprise you to know that I actually have a whole mass effect au planned out in my head. I just…. Yeah. Ava Silva and the weight of the world on her shoulders. Ava Silva giving exclusive sponsorship to every single tech and weapons shop on the Citadel. Ava Silva with her aquarium and her pet hamster and a shadow longer than her life.

Ava Silva, waking up to fire in the sky above Mindoir. Ships blotting out the sky and the trees a smear of sound and heat and light outside her window. It’s enough to make them burst inward, waking her in time to save her life.

Boots in the hall of their little house and her mother running inside the room, pushing the dresser she made out of this planet up against the door they brought with them from the stars. Ava doesn’t know anything but this place – the grass crunchy in winter and the flowers in spring and the leaves in autumn and all the sunsets in summer.

Her mother has old scars on her hands and an old rifle she keeps under her bed and an old set of armour she wears now. It’s broken open across her chest and the gauntlets are cracked, falling onto the wood floor as she looks for Ava, finds her by the window in a halo of broken glass.

It’s weird, too see her smiling and bleeding at the same time.

There’s a second red heart on her chest, and when she speaks she leaves blood spatter on Ava’s forearms. Clutches at her so tightly that Ava is certain she could never let her go, but then she’s smoothing Ava’s hair off her face, tucking strands behind her ear.

She carries Ava to the window – she’s nine, too big for carrying and she squirms but her mother’s grip is iron. The grass is still wet from overnight rain, somehow, even backlit as they both are by fire. The shape of tall trees in her mother’s eyes which are just the same colour as hers. Brown like earth.

The door to Ava’s bedroom splinters and the last thing Ava hears as she’s pushed onto her back – out of sight and out of reach – is her mother telling her to run. This she knows how to do, running laps around the track at school while the other kids are still stretching out their legs. She knows how to do it alone in the woods around their house or down toward the lake, pretending to chase birds or her own shadow.

Ava, running and always, forever after this, running. Away from town, from home, with an old Alliance beacon in her hand, blinking like a red eye against her palm.

They’ll find you, she’d whispered, pressing it wet into Ava’s small hand, and they did.

When the Alliance come they find Ava. Just her. They ask her questions but all she can tell them about is fire, and sitting in the old cabin by the lake, underneath the floorboards with bugs the size of her hands crawling in the dirt around her. Staring at the beacon until she slept again. Woke again. Slept again.

Ten years later she’s on Akuze and everyone she trained with is dead around her. She’s fresh out of basic training and her armour belonged to someone else before her, ill-fitting at the shoulders and the hips. Her greaves rattle when she walks, and everyone teases her about it and then she’s running past pieces of them.

The creature responsible bleeds so much when it dies, and its insides burn where they touch Ava’s skin. When they find her, she’s carrying a fistful of dog tags, spends a week in a medi-gel bath regrowing a fifth of her skin. They recruit her straight into the N7 program, and some nights, sitting in various drop-ships eating expired ration bars, or gunning down mercs, she wonders if her mother would recognise her anymore. They were supposed to be farmers.

Then Eden Prime, the beacon and a Turian called Adriel who wants to bring about the end of the world. She meets an odd archaeologist on a lonely dig site and her name is Beatrice. A sniper on the Citadel called Shannon, who likes to wear blue. Their pilot, Mary, has a knack for pissing everyone off and a soft spot for Ava.

She sits in the mess late at night, when the ship’s circadian lights make everything dim and secret, drinking coffee with too much creamer and listening to Beatrice talk about the Protheans.

It's the wrong time to fall in love.

They win, eventually, and Ava is quietly side-lined for saying too much, too loudly about the Reapers, who want to come down from the sky and burn everything, like the slavers burned her home once upon a time.

And then she dies.

Her body, burned by the mouth of a planet upon re-entry, finds its way into the hands of a shadow organisation called Cerberus, who call her Lazarus and bring her back from the dead. She wakes up full of hairline fractures, her face trying to break open, bleeding red light like her once-small fingers, like running away again and waking up to flashlights, strange voices. Everything about life is circular.

She wakes in the hands of a girl with designer blood and bones not quite as handmade as Ava’s, but close. Her name is Lilith, and the first thing she tells Ava is that the galaxy hasn’t run out of ways to use her just yet.

#mass effect au #warrior nun #avatrice #anon #i would probably set the au during the ME2 era just because... that's when things really get going #and also. sexier #but anyway sadly Lilith isn't N7 but she definitely ends up wearing that armour at some point ^_^#because you're right. it would look hmmmmmmmm #also bkdljdkslkd she would NOT wear miri's armour like babe i love u but that is not OSHA approved. they are shooting at you #anyway what is this? no idea

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incorrect-house-of-nine · 1 year

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Not sure if anyone else has caught this/pointed it out, but I was looking at the covers, and noticed something. There's something that's always bugged me about the font of Gideon and Harrow. The lower case i of Gideon.

Why the i ?? I wondered if it was simply a characteristic of the font, I went searching.

I and B are the only letters in the font that are lower case in upper case.

To get the font as close as possible to the covers, I discovered that HARROW and GIDEON is written in a mixture of lower and upper case, haRRow GiDEon. Which neither here nor there as its probably just a tweaking of the OG font by the cover designer for neatness. But this this little lower case i was niggling at me. Roman Numerals are used through out the book, they're cool and gothic asf, ONE looks like a capital I in most fonts, so GIDEON would look like G1DEON. (I'm prolly reaching here, but was it a stylistic choice from the get go to cover the tracks? It's probably not that deep. Im probably seeing shit that aint there, loool. ) I'm not certain if that's why the fandom began referring to Gideon Prime as G1DEON cause they spotted it too. ℑ 𝔞𝔭𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔦𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔶 𝔞 𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔴𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤, ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔰𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔱𝔞𝔨𝔢.

#tlt #the locked tomb #the locked tomb meta #gideon the ninth #𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔥 #𝔤𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔥 #𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬𝔪𝔟 #𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬𝔪𝔟 𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔞

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seagoober · 1 year

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lol sorry if it’s taking a minute for new things to come out. School is beating my ass rn. But I’m working on all the things!

Here’s a few sneak peaks!!

A different kind of human series (Step ?): Hunger

Rated M

TFP! Optimus Prime x Human! Reader

Oh Primus, this sweet bliss Optimus was feeling. Wrapped together bare flesh against warm metal. This is where he belonged, where he needed to be. United in the most carnal way with you.

Bug

Rated T

TFP Bumblebee x Human! Reader

Bumblebee was chirping and buzzing with excitement at the thought of you. He had it bad. But how could he not when he was your bug?

Half the world away

Rated T

Tfp Orion Pax/Optimus Prime x Reincarnated Human! Reader

*continuation of meet me at our spot*

Optimus couldn’t believe his optics. Primus you looked so similar to his conjux it pained his spark so. Even your euphoric voice was the same… it hurt him more than anyone knew

Request! Arcee and Arachnid x Reader headcannons

Rated T

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clumsiestgiantess · 8 months

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My borrower headcannons:

There are four main subgroups of borrower which coincide with different human styles of living. Culture and appearance range widely between the types. Borrowers living in the suburbs and the city have different lifestyles with some similarities, but borrowers living in rural places or completely in the wild have entirely different ways of life, and even different adaptations; they’re nearly two different species. (Kind of like how polar bears and grizzly bears are technically the same species with different adaptations for their environments)

All borrowers have at least a semi-human appearance, and stay under a foot tall. (The largest recorded borrower measured 10 inches tall). They all come from a common ancestor: the feral subgroup, which adapted to an easier lifestyle of thievery over hunting.

Urban subgroup:

They can care less if they’re spotted, most humans just ignore the sighting after a moment anyway. Being caught is a different story, of course. A caught urban borrower can let out a deafening shriek loud enough to startle whatever’s caught them to drop them. They can fall a good 30 feet without serious injuries, so being dropped is completely fine.

They’re practically tone deaf, but have heightened visual senses and can even see in blinding light.

Have a type of sign language to communicate, and rarely make noise other than to show displeasure or affection (depending on the sound).

The smallest type; usually grows about 2-3 inches tall.

Homes look like nests stashed with every kind of material imaginable. This type of borrower is a collector and will steal anything they want without need for it. The shinier the object, the more valuable it is to them.

Body structure is nearly identical to humans with enhanced reflexes.

Many choose to live solitarily or with a small close family, but some live in larger groups for protection.

Suburban subgroup:

They have a type of sign language that they use between eachother, though most also learn whatever language the humans around them know to at least a basic level.

Homes look drastically different depending on how practiced a borrower is. A normal home looks like a mix of an underground colony system and a den. However, the better they are at stealing, the more resources they have to make things aesthetically pleasing. Thus, borrowers who’ve perfected their skills have homes whose interiors are similar to human ones.

Their average height is 4-5 inches tall.

This is the largest subgroup, and also the most interconnected; they often have hidden meeting places spread out like small towns to come together and share stories, trade materials, get help, find mates, etc. These are few and far between. A borrower will consider any place close to these meeting areas prime housing, as living in these meeting areas is forbidden.

Many things are forbidden. This group put together a series of codes that keep them in ‘perfect’ safety. They also have professions they take on in order to help the community as well as themselves. These range from perfecting ‘borrowing’ supplies (this is where their namesake comes from), practicing medicine and healing, crafting tools, becoming strong fighters, studying humans and other animals, etc.

These borrower codes contain many fascinating rules, including a contingency plan if they’re ever caught. Upon capture, they are to “play dead, play dumb, then run.” Closer studies have found that these borrowers can vomit bile on command, and use the stench to make themselves seem dead and rotting. If they’ve been caught in the act, this trick fails and they move to playing dumb. Using their surprisingly expansive knowledge of small animals other than themselves, they are able to mimic the actions of mice or even bugs to appear less intriguing to humans. If both ruses fail, they will bolt at speeds seemingly impossible for their bodies to move at, and can maneuver with pinpoint accuracy.

They have longer and wider ears to hear potential danger, double-jointed limbs for maneuverability and manipulation, lankier legs for faster strides.

Rural subgroup:

These borrowers usually live outside the houses they take from, preferring natural burrows and tunnel systems than the walls of houses.

If the home has a garden, there’s a large chance there’s at least a small borrowers’ burrow there to stash items.

Some learn a human language as a second language, but most speak in their own language, which is a mixture of animalistic noises and human ones. Their relations work more animalisticly; body language is a huge part of understanding one another.

Unlike the first two subgroups, these borrowers will attack when threatened rather than bluff. Their pronounced canines can leave small needle-like holes in the skin, which can easily heal over and become infected. When biting down, these borrowers’ jaws can lock into place, making it impossible to remove one without killing it. Even shaking it does no harm due to its swiveling neck, which can turn 360 degrees in either direction.

Average height is 5-6 inches tall.

Their ears are long and pointed, they have thin tails to help balance their quick movements, and slightly padded feet and palms.

Feral subgroup:

These are, as the name suggests, the most wild of the subgroups, and also the oldest subgroup. They live entirely away from humans and are completely independent, relying on the things they gather and make themselves.

They are the largest subgroup with an average height of 6-7 inches.

They live in long tunnel systems underground or inside trees. These tunnel entrances can be told apart from other creatures’ by the rudimentary door system.

If you see these burrows, DO NOT DISTURB THEM. There can be as many as 30 borrowers per burrow and they are aggressively protective of their homes. Springing open a large burrow will lead you to be swarmed. Mind you, these are creatures that can be nearly as long as your forearm, and a dedicated group of about 5 or 6 can kill you if you don’t fight them off or run. You will not be able to fight off 30 of them. If you survive the initial attack, seek medical attention. Their saliva has a good chance of carrying infectious bacteria.

Another caution: They can and will lay traps. Usually they aren’t strong enough to capture a human, and will likely only stun you. However, again, do NOT stick around or you will be swarmed.

They have clawed fingers, long thin tails, and are capable of running on four limbs for faster movement, as well as the longer ears and padded hands and feet of the rural subgroup. Their pupils can dilate widely enough to have fair night vision, which is useful for getting around burrows.

They are omnivores that can eat raw meat, and their teeth are sharpened versions of other subgroups’.

Due to the sheer amount of space between the habitats of different subgroups, it’s not often that they meet. When they do, the stories are often chalked up to tall tales. Most subgroups view the other subgroups as cryptids of sorts.

(quick ref I made for body structure & height, penny for scale)

#what subgroup of borrower would YOU be?#g/t #giant tiny

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wildflower-otome · 1 month

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[Translation] Clover no Kuni no Alice ~Promise Red~ Light Novel - Chapter 7

Writer: Sana Shirakawa Artist: 文月ナナ

ACT 7 - Red eyes make a binding promise

This place was always coloured a vivid red.

From the furniture down to the flowers blooming in the garden, it was all a magnificent red. The first time she had come to the Castle, it was so striking she had found it overwhelming to look at, but had now grown completely used to it.

‘Miss, what would this one be?’

‘That one is…..my spare clothes, I think. Then, would I be able to get you to place it near that closet? I'll put them away later.’

‘And what about this one?’

‘Ah, those are some books I bought. I'll put them away on the shelf later too, so for now please put them on the table.’

The maids who were bringing her luggage into various spots in the room happily replied with an, ‘Understood.’ Even though the task had nothing to do with the upkeep of the Castle, not a single one looking as if they found the work disagreeable, they were helping Alice out.

The only person looking dissatisfied was the White Rabbit whom she had forbidden from helping just before.

‘Alice, why won't you let me help you? Even without using these faceless, I would have gladly assisted you.’

‘.....There's no way I'd borrow the help of someone who was trying to throw away my things, on top of skipping out on their own job, is there? Sure you shouldn't be getting back to work now, “Lord” White?’

‘Alice-, please don't say such cold things-’

Ignoring his pleading sounding voice, Alice stuck out her tongue at him a little.

Ten time periods had already passed since the end of the Assembly. Having returned to Heart Castle from Clover Tower, it had been the noon time period just before that the room she had been staying in temporarily had been officially allotted to Alice as her bedroom.

Peter had immediately attempted to arrange it with lavish furniture, and suggested some large scale remodelling, but she had said no to both. That said, if she was going to be staying in this room from now on, it was only the truth that she'd grown to miss the daily essentials she had become used to using.

‘All the same…..I probably can't go get my things from Hatter Mansion, can I.’

Still, she didn't really want to buy everything from scratch all over again. It would be a waste. She wasn't sure what to do.

Just as she was thinking that, Alice's belongings from Hatter Mansion had arrived.

Despite the items being addressed to Alice, the sender had still been Blood. Just as they had finally been about to get through to her after being thoroughly checked countless times, this Prime Minister had ordered them destroyed.

It had been almost miraculous timing that Alice had happened on the scene just as they were about to be thrown out.

She might also have heard it from a little bug as well.

‘They are certainly your belongings, but I was thinking of buying you the same ones brand new. After all, surely you must dislike using things that bunch at Hatter Mansion touched, all covered in germs! Right, Alice?’

‘Don't put me in the same category as you.’

The germaphobic Prime Minister was insistent, but Alice was not the kind of person to agree with him.

She had borrowed the help of the maids to carry them to the place that was now her room, and that was how they had arrived at the current situation.

‘Miss…..these ones seem a little different from the rest, what should we do with them?’

‘Huh? I wonder what they are, I don't think I've seen them before either….’

An object wrapped in paper. From the looks of things, it had been wrapped hastily, but it was something Alice didn't remember seeing before. As she tried holding it in her hands, it wasn't as heavy as it had looked.

It appeared to be the last of the luggage, so after she had thanked them, the maids left the room. After seeing them off, Alice opened the package.

‘Alice, please don't ignore me.’

Raising his voice pitifully, the White Rabbit also peered at the item from beside her.

Tearing off the tape that had been stuck here and there, as she opened it up—there was something unexpected inside.

‘Ah!’

A realistic looking doll that was difficult to call cute, an assortment of orange-coloured cookies, and a thick leather bound book.

‘This must be from Dee and Dum…..somehow or other, it does look like one of their “stress dummies” after all.’

The roughly made doll had something of the air of the ones the twins often brought to the bath to break. The small note written in a flowing cursive attached to it that said, “Whether you're feeling stressed enough that this doll won't be able to help or not, we'll play with you anytime” was very like them.

The case containing the orange-coloured cookies had the words, “I'll keep on looking for stores with tasty looking stuff” energetically scrawled into it. Even if there had been no message, just from the colour she would have been able to tell whom it had been from straight away.

‘That's so like Elliot…’

She could imagine so clearly even the look on his face that he had while choosing amongst his favourite foods she began to smile despite herself.

And then, her hand touched the final item.

‘..........’

A title embossed in gold on a leather cover. It wasn't a book she was familiar with, but she didn't even need to open it to know who it was from.

As she took it into her hands and turned the pages, there was a small bookmark wedged inside. It was a stylish looking item, of a pale red colour, with a cut out in the shape of a rose. The message attached to the bookmark was also written in familiar handwriting.

—Whenever you want to read the next one, come over at anytime—

‘.....I wonder if they're thinking I'm the type to keep coming back home.’

All the same, it made her happy, and she was unable to help laughing a little.

Even if they were apart, even if they didn't live in the same place, it made her happy that her bond with them wouldn't disappear.

‘Alice.’

‘Ah, Peter. Looks like these are presents from everyone-…..Hey, what's wrong?’

Seeing the White Rabbit look so obviously discontent, the girl tilted her head quizzically.

On the other hand, seeing Alice look so puzzled, Peter let out a sigh.

‘Why are you so happy about presents from the likes of them-? Even though if you wanted the same thing, I would give it to you…..this is too cruel-’

‘Um…..the reason presents make people happy isn't just to do with the thing itself, you know?’

With what intention the other person gave it to you, understanding how they’d felt when they'd chosen it. It was because you knew that they had been thinking of you, that the giving itself brought one joy.

Still, apparently not understanding the delicacy of such emotions the White Rabbit was muttering, ‘As I thought, I should have disposed of them while you weren't looking.’

‘Just so you know, it would be meaningless for you to copy everyone and give me the same thing, Peter.’

‘Wha-! H-How did you know that was what I was thinking…!?’

‘.....So that was what you were going to do.’

She had thought that it couldn't be, but apparently it had been the right decision to warn him in advance. Normally she didn't understand what this Rabbit was thinking, but it was only in times like this she could read his thoughts.

Smiling wryly at the red eyes as they looked at the book Alice was holding with strong distaste, after temporarily putting it down on the table, she gently stretched her hands out to the White Rabbit's cheeks.

‘Peter.’

‘Alice?’

And then, standing on tiptoe—she lightly pressed her lips against his.

She laughed at the White Rabbit, whose eyes were widened with surprise.

‘Peter…..aren’t you happy to get a kiss from me? Would you have preferred a kiss from someone else?’

‘'No-, of course not-! If another person did the same thing, I would shoot them-’

For the time being choosing to ignore this disquieting remark, Alice continued to smile broadly.

This Rabbit didn't understand things unless they were said to him so directly there was no room for misunderstandings. That was something she knew well from all the time she had spent with him up until now.

‘Right? Then give me something I'd be happy to get from you, Peter. Something I'd be happy to get only from you, and no one else…..alright?’

‘Alice.’

Alice had been feeling relieved seeing the change in the slightly reddened face of the White Rabbit, but that was only for an instant.

Taking hold of the hands she had touching his face, Peter spoke, sounding as if he were getting more and more worked up.

‘In other words, you want me…..isn't that right, Alice! A gift that only I can give you, that has to be what you mean!’

‘Wha-.....Peter, wait a moment-.....!!’

It appeared her voice of protest hadn't reached the white long ears. No, even if it had, perhaps its meaning not getting through to him, Alice was all of a sudden picked up and carried over to the bed.

‘Alice, Alice…..Ah, I love you-’

‘Mnn-!’

She tried to push Peter away as he hugged her as if overcome with emotion, kissing her again and again, but in an instant he'd closed the distance between them, and she lost any place to run.

‘I'm so happy having you right here with me, I might just go mad!’

Ecstatically, as if in a rapture.

When she saw him smiling as if completely content—she was unable to push back all that much.

The game that had been conducted at the final Assembly. After putting his gun away, the White Rabbit had hugged Alice and said to her-

"I had believed that you would win, but…..even if you hadn't, I never could have given you to the Hatter. Alice, no matter what the result was, I would stay with you even if it meant breaking the rules."

The rules of this world were a restriction that Alice the Outsider couldn't comprehend. The penalties for breaking them, and how difficult it was to do so, were things she was unable to imagine either.

‘Alice, I love you. I—want to stay like this with you always, forever.’

Hands that stroked her hair. Lips that touched her skin. Heat that she could directly feel near.

Alice felt as if she were melting into all of it yet again.

‘Please…..stay with me forever. Let me feel you closer than anyone, Alice.’

—Since meeting you, even in the midst of his worries…..he is growing closer to happiness—

The one who had told her that was the dream demon who appeared in her dreams.

She thought that just as he had said, Peter had changed. The way Peter was right now was completely different to the Peter that had been satisfied just being together, not wanting anything more than that.

She was wanted. She was desired.

This too pure Rabbit needed no one else but Alice.

‘Peter.’

Is it because I'm needed?

Because I'm necessary to him?

Because he wants me?

Is that why, we're together?

She couldn't say without a doubt that that wasn't the case.

Because unlike Peter, Alice had more than one thing that was important to her.

But even so, she wanted to be with him. Right now she strongly wished to be by the side of this too pure being.

‘.....You haven't forgotten the promise you made me just before, have you?’

She wanted to be the only one that these white hands and red eyes looked for.

‘Yes, I remember—only you, you are the only thing that makes me happy. I don't want to touch anyone but you.’

Neither body nor heart.

The White Rabbit who hadn't wanted to touch anyone.

She wanted that hand to touch even the pounding of her heart coming through her skin. Drowning in those emotions, Alice was becoming pure white.

Although she knew she couldn't become as pure a white as him, she felt as if she could become just a little white.

Alice, who had nothing pure about her, and a Rabbit that was so pure he couldn't be touched.

Even though the only thing they had in common was their weakness.

'Is it alright that I dirty you...when I touch you?’

If she were to touch him, he would be tainted. Just like leaving footprints in freshly fallen snow, a feeling of elation, and a slight sense of guilt.

Each time she touched Peter, Alice always felt those two extremities of emotion.

‘You aren't dirty at all. Rather, I am the one who is tainting you.’

His lips lightly touched her. Brushing her cheek, her jaw, tracing down her neck.

‘I only drown in you. I can't see anyone, or anything, but you.’

Ah—if only she could do the same someday.

She wondered if the day would come when she only looked at these beautiful red eyes, and nothing else.

Although it seemed to be quite a simple thing, at the same time it would be more difficult than anything.

‘Peter.’

‘Yes.’

‘Don't ever…..let me go.’

—Just you, stay at my side forever—

As Alice said that to him, unable to completely convey everything she truly felt, the White Rabbit smiled as if happy.

‘Of course. Then Alice, please always stay in a place where my hands can reach you.’

Beautiful eyes that looked like blood, like roses.

Right now they were filled with joy and happiness.

Even though the string of fate couldn't be seen on either of their two little fingers.

The vivid gaze made her a red promise, for sure.

#hnkna #alice in the country of clover #clover no kuni no alice #translation #alice liddell #peter white #heart no kuni no alice

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