#And we'll get the drag scene and stuff!!!

[fuckwhoeverpickedallthefunnyurls]

ALSO LIKE OLU, JIM, AND THE OTHER PERSON I FORGOT THEIR NAME BUT LIKE I MEAN ITS WORKING OUT I THINK??

YESSSS ARCHIEEE IT SEEMS OLU AND JIM ARE LIKE OKAY NOW (although I do still kinda want them to have a conversation) BUT LIKE THEY'RE ALL JUST BESTIES AND DATING IN SOME WAYYY

[vaguely-concerned]

with the way things shook out I ended up doing lucanis' second café date right after finishing the treviso quest line (with the implication seeming to be that it's literally on the same night). and I must say that these two chucklefucks performing acts of stunning world-quaking violence that change the fate of a city and then peacefully going off to chat & softly flirt over hot beverages once they've got the worst of the blood all cleaned up while the rest of the city is getting riotously drunk to celebrate is the most in-character thing that has ever happened for both of them lol. who needs booze when you're high on being so in love with someone else's company and existence in the world that it makes you look stupid. and also you're both huge nerds

[angel-sweets666]

stuck together

Barbarian bakugo x princess! Reader

Your parents arranged you to the brash and rude prince of the barbarians to save their own skin. CHAPTER TWO HERE

warnings and stuff inside of the story: talks of virginity, talks of a virginity check (its accurate to the time period ok?) a/n should I make this a series? I think it’d be fun but idk ur rich btw so just like there’s rich stuff.

THE FULL VERSION IS OUTTT, truely ask and you shall receive. Anyways this is the full edited and lengthened part one I hope it’s better then the sneak peak I gave you guys

AGED UP

Mitsuki leaned back, her piercing gaze fixed on your parents. "So, what do you say? You give us your daughter, and we'll form an alliance," she proposed, pausing for their response. "It would offer protection from the Todoroki kingdom Flamoria, no?" The blonde woman smiled at your father, trying to sway him.

Flamoria had a habit of attacking your home kingdom, however in recent years the bakugos have managed to not only defeat the todorokis but make their kingdom subservient to them.

Your mother hesitated. "I mean, I dunno…"

"We'll do it," he interrupted, cutting off your mother.

"Huh?!" Your mother turned to him, shock evident on her face.

"Perfect. Sign here," Mitsuki said smoothly, handing them a piece of paper which already had both mitsuki and masarus names written down. It was a betrothal agreement, arranging the marriage between you and her hot-tempered son, Bakugo.

Your father reached for the pen, the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. "This will secure our safety and ensure a powerful ally," he murmured, almost convincing himself as much as anyone else.

"But our daughter…" your mother started, her voice filled with concern and disbelief. She looked at Mitsuki, then back at your father, torn between the political necessity and the love for her child.

"We don't have a choice," your father replied firmly, signing the paper. "This alliance is crucial for our kingdom's survival. The Empyrean empire is strong.”

Mitsuki's smile widened as she took the signed document. "Excellent. You won't regret this. Bakugo will make a fine husband, many heirs will come from this, she is a virgin right?” The blonde asks “we can get her checked for it, *name* was very sheltered growing up so we can assure you she’s a virgin.” Your father explains, leaning back in his own squeaky wooden chair. His gaze turns to your mother, who seems distraught about marrying off her child to the barbarian prince. Someone famous for being a violent person.

at 17 years old bakugo had brought back the head of a powerful tribe leader and put it on a stick for everyone to see, at 18 years old he had gathered a small army of men and defeated the midoriya kingdom and had a bloody cloak from the one of the dead soilders to prove it. Then at 20 years old bakugo had forced izuku, the Feywood king to surrender his crown. Which put feywood in the empyrean empire. No one knows where izuku midoriya currently is, all the people know is that he was last scene getting dragged by his green locks by bakugo and was never seen again.

Later on

“YOU ARRANGED ME TO WHO!?” You screamed, staring at your parents in complete horror. How could they do this to you? You make one wrong move and your own husband would order your death! “Look it’s not so bad..” “NOT SO BAD? HES KILLED HUNDREDS! THOUSANDS EVEN” “He won’t kill you though!” Your father exclaimed, An attempt to calm you. “Look, bakugo may seem like a man killing war machine of a prince but his parents assured us that he’s very gentle with women.” You scoffed, leaning your weight to one hip “bullshit. He’s gonna kill me. Brutally, he’s gonna hack off my head just you watch”

Over the next few weeks, you tried everything to call off the arrangement. You attempted to run away before the virginity check, faked illness, and came up elaborate excuses. Nothing seemed to work. Your parents were stubborn, insisting that you marry Katsuki Bakugo for the strength of their own kingdom.

Lying in bed, you tossed and turned, unable to escape the looming dread of marrying the great, scary barbarian prince, soon to be barbarian king. What if he rips your head off just because you refuse to give him a kiss? The thought made your heart race with fear.

Suddenly, a knock on the door snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. A maid entered, her eyes gloomy with pity . "Your Highness? Tomorrow we will wake you early to help you begin packing for the travel to the Empyrean Kingdom," she said softly, her voice trembling as she tried to avoid any kind of trouble.

You groaned and turned your head toward her. "When am I being sent to them?" you asked

"U-uh, most likely the day after tomorrow," the maid stammered, clearly uneasy with your distress.

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of your impending fate settle even heavier on your shoulders. "I see… thank you," you muttered.

You looked back at the red headed maid “How far is the journey?” You asked her softly, she fidgeted with her fingers “a-about two days, they live f-far from our kingdom your highness” she stammered. You smiled to the red head and dismissed her.

As she left you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. The thought of being married off to someone you had never met, someone with a terrifying reputation, filled you with a sense of dread and hopelessness. Your parents decision felt like a betrayal, a sacrifice of your happiness for the supposed greater good of the kingdom

You stood in the corner of your large room, watching as numerous servants took gowns, corsets, shoes, and other clothing items, placing them into bags. "U-uh, don’t barbarians wear less formal clothes? Shouldn’t I bring less?" you asked the maids. All of them turned to look at you, a hint of surprise on their faces.

"Her Highness makes a point," the same red-headed maid from the night before whispered to an older maid. The older maid, seemingly more experienced, turned toward you with a thoughtful expression.

"You're right, Your Royal Highness. They would probably end up burning these clothes or turning them into barbarian-styled garments," she conceded.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping in resignation. "What do barbarian women wear?" you asked the older maid, hoping for some clarity.

"Hm… flowy skirts, I’ve seen a few wear headdresses," she replied, as some of the gowns were hung back up in the closet. The maids began to sift through your belongings, selecting items that might be more appropriate for your new life.

As you watched the process, you couldn’t help but glance out the window. Your mother and father were walking in the garden, deep in conversation. They seemed so in love, so perfectly matched, yet they were throwing you into a marriage that promised nothing but misery. The contrast between their happiness and your dread was almost unbearable.

"Your Highness, we’ll pack lighter, more practical clothing for your journey," the older maid reassured.

"Thank you," you murmured, though your heart wasn't in it. The thought of being dressed in unfamiliar clothes, adapting to an unknown culture, and being wed to a man you feared only added to your anxiety.

As the servants continued their work, you wandered over to your bed, sinking down onto the edge. The weight of your impending departure pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. You had grown up surrounded by luxury and love, and now you were being sent away, to marry probably the most violent man you’ve ever heard of

Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about the future that awaited you. Would you ever find happiness in the Empyrean Kingdom? Would Katsuki Bakugo, the fierce and terrifying prince, ever come to care for you, or would you be nothing more than a means to an end?

"Your Highness, is there anything else you would like us to pack?" one of the younger maids asked, her voice gentle.

You shook your head, wiping away a stray tear. "No, just… make sure to leave out a few comfortable things for me to wear until we leave."

"Of course, Your Highness," she replied, her expression sympathetic.

As the maids continued their preparations, you lay back on your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You tried to find comfort in the familiar surroundings, knowing that soon you would be leaving them behind.

"So, what's the barbarian kingdom like?" you asked, looking over to the maids. The older maid once again turned her head to look at you.

"Most of the people live in either big wooden houses with all sorts of weapons around or in these hut-like tent things. Either way, they have all these symbols painted on them," she described, clearly having been to the Empyrean Kingdom before.

"And what about the Bakugos? Where do they live? You asked

"They live in a stone castle with intricate paintings on it, and there's a lot of security. The last time I was there, they had spikes on the bridge leading to the castle, with people's heads mounted on them," the old maid replied,

"How long ago were you there?" you asked, feeling a chill run down your spine at the gruesome detail.

"When the young prince was about fifteen, so around five years ago," she said, placing one last corset into a bag.

You glanced at the six bags of items packed for your journey, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. It was a smaller amount than you had anticipated, yet it seemed to signify the end of one life and the beginning of another.

"Did you meet the prince?" you asked, trying to glean any information that might help you understand the man you were to marry.

"Briefly," she replied, her expression softening. "He was intense, even as a teenager. Always training, always pushing himself. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a loneliness."

You sighed, trying to reconcile the image of the fierce, terrifying prince with the glimpses of vulnerability the maid described. "And the people there? How are they?"

"Fierce, proud, and loyal," the older maid said. "They value strength above all else, but they also have a deep sense of honor and community. If you earn their respect, they'll defend you with their lives."

The more you learned, the more daunting your future seemed. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing that the barbarian kingdom, despite its harsh exterior, had its own codes and values.

As the maids continued their work, you tried to imagine what life in the Empyrean Kingdom would be like

"Is there anything else I should know?" you asked, your voice softer, almost hesitant.

The older maid paused, considering your question. "Just remember, Your Highness, that if you respect them and they’ll respect you."

Her words resonated with you, giving you a small but vital sense of empowerment. You nodded “alright, seems easy enough..”

The day that you needed to travel to the empyrean kingdom came, your parents watched you walk to the carriage by the gate as your mother sobbed into your fathers chest.

The ride to the Empyrean Kingdom was grueling. As the carriage rattled over uneven roads, you gazed out the window, the lush greenery of your homeland gradually giving way to the rugged, bushy but covered in tall trees landscape of the barbarian territory. The closer you got, the more your anxiety grew, each kilometre bringing you closer to the empyrean land

When you finally arrived at the castle, you were struck by its threatening look. The stone walls were decorated with weird red painted symbols, and the spiked bridge, as described by the maid, loomed menacingly ahead. Your heart pounded as you stepped out of the carriage, taking in the harsh surroundings.

A group of stern-faced and very attractive guards escorted you inside. The castle's interior was as intimidating as its exterior—dimly lit, with weapons and trophies of past battles displayed prominently on the walls. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you were led through the cold halls. You swore that if you listened close enough you could hear peoples screams in the dungeons below. Fuck was this hell with its 7 rings?

Finally, you were brought to a large chamber where a tall, muscular figure stood with his back to you. His spiky blonde hair was unmistakable. He was busy looking at a sheet of paper, the one oddly similar to the ones your parents shown you when they first announced your betrothal to bakugo. As he slowly turned to face you, his piercing red eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you want to look away. He looked almost angry at you, furious even. Which was confusing because you’ve known this man for a whole 10 seconds

he was tall and about 6ft with messy blonde hair, scars all over his body and face, and piercings on his ears and lip.

"So, you're the princess they sent," Katsuki said, his voice dripping with disdain. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his expression one of barely concealed annoyance. Katsuki had a deep voice that you couldn’t tell if you found attractive or if you wanted to run away and hide.

You straightened your back, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as you could muster. "I am," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady but it ended up sounding shaky.

Bakugo scoffed, looking you up and down as if to check if you were just a weak small baby or strong enough to be a wife and a queen “Great. Another weakling to babysit," he muttered under his breath.

Anger formed within you at his dismissive attitude. "I am not a weakling," you snapped. "And I am certainly not here to be babysat."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "We'll see about that," he said, turning away from you. "Follow me. There's no point in wasting time."

You clenched your fists, biting back a come back to insult him with as you followed him through the castle. Every step echoed in the vast, cold corridors. His steps much louder then yours due to his much larger frame

Bakugo led you to a large hall where a group of people—presumably his advisors and some of the castle staff—were gathered. He introduced you curtly, barely sparing you a glance as he did so. The looks you received ranged from curiosity to outright hostility, they clearly didn’t want you here. Just like the old maid back had home had warned, these people hated the weak.

After the introductions, Bakugo dismissed everyone, including you. "You'll be shown to your chambers. Don't get in my way or else," he said, theblonde clearly trying to end the conversation between you two before he could get sucked into some conversation he didn’t waht

You followed a servant to your chambers, a mix of anger and sadness within you. The room was surprisingly comfortable, a stark contrast to the rest of the castle, but it did little to lift your spirits. You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of your new reality settle over you.

Over the next few days, you tried to find your place in the castle. The people were distant and wary, their lack of trust clear in their every interaction with you. And Bakugo… he was even worse than most . He ignored you most of the time, and when he did speak to you, it was with a cold, dismissive tone that made your blood boil. He always had a tone of sass, trying to get under your skin constantly.

as the days grew closer and closer to your wedding date he seemed to just get more and more annoying, constantly having some tone of sass. Never wanting to talk to you and constantly flirting with your maids, you even went the effort to fire atleast 4 of them to keep their grotty hands to themselves.

“you done firing my staff now?” Bakugo grumbled as he caught up with you in the stone candle lit halls “your staff? You mean my staff? My staff who you seem to love flirting with” you corrected him, looking over your shoulder at him. The blonde furrowed his eyebrows and scoffed “I pay for them there for their my staff.” He growled, asking faster in an attempt to intimate you “actually, your parents pay for the staff.” “Hah?” “Your parent pay for the staff so their not your staff, their the palaces staff.” You said ignorantly as you played with the lace of your dress. “You gonna get out of that frill fest you call a gown?” He asked, again trying to insult you “if I do I’m gonna shove it up your ass” “excuse me?”

“Want me to say it slower? I—WILL—SHOVE—MY—GOW”

“OKAY OKAY SHUT UP WOMAN” he growled at you and walked off in spite “THATS WHAT WHAT I THOUGHT. THATS WHAT I THOUGHT.” You angrily yelled back to him, which in real aspect you were yelling at the back of his ignorant head. You huffed and stormed away in the opposite direction as you wanted nothing more then to get away from that man. As you stomped down the halls, footsteps echoing with each step; you heard a male voice call out to you

“Princess.”

you looked over, a certain brown haired man similar looking to katsuki stared back at you. It was king Masaru “I was looking for you” he says, walking towards you. You quickly curtsied to the king “About what?” You asked “we have a wedding date for you and my son” he smiled warmly as if this was a good thing “o-oh.. and when may that be..?” Your eyebrows furrowed with frustration “a month from now, they will date you to get your gown fitted this week” he seemed overly happy about something neither you or his temperamental son wanted.

“Will I wear a wedding dress from my country or your country?” You asked softly, trying to keep your cool “uh.. our country.” He informed you “I’d rather wear my own wedding gown though, your majesty” “well.. you belong to our kingdom now. We can give you a dress that’s a mix of the two if you’d rather” he compromised, trying to keep with both your and his kingdom. Letting out a sigh your shoulders dropped “I suppose that be okay…” a look of mild disappointment on your face “wonderful, I’m glad we could come to a compromise” he smiled and walked off, an electric blonde guard following close behind him who you earlier learned his name was kaminari. The blonde goofily smiled to you, he seemed like a character. The two men walked off as they chatted, rolling your eyes you too began to walk in the direction of your bedroom chambers.

you couldn’t sleep that night, you tried changing your nightgown, exercising, reading a book, meditating, everything! nothing would help you sleep this night, you wondered if it was the weird interaction with king Masaru or the fact your own fiance was when you think about it was cheating on you with your own staff members. you slowly slid out of bed and out of your silk sheets, rubbing your face up and down with your hands with frustration. Looking down at your feet you sighed, looking out of the window. the night sky was so peaceful unlike your mind which was running with less the pleasant thoughts. How could you get Katsuki to like you? or at least tolerate you in some way so he wouldn't be the most annoying little shit.

The creak of the door hinges squeaks as you pushed the heavy wooden door open, wincing at the high pitch noise. Slowly but quietly gou walked towards the chambers of your future husband. As you approached the door you hear two voices come from the inside

“you’ll need to learn to cherish and care for her eventually”

“why would I do that?” “She is your fiancé! Your future wife! Future mother of your heirs!”

“you except me to fuck her too? Shit.”

“Yes obviously! Your gonna need heirs for our kingdom!”

“fine. Before or after this whole wedding?”

“well In her kingdom, you two do that on the wedding night but to be honest I don’t really care when you do her”

“Too easy”

safe to say your whole face was pink, with either anger or arousal but you couldn’t tell

Tag list!

@sagejin @teeesthings @hiimsaraandyou

@peachysuguru @luvgumii

@v3n7s @iangeeluv

[bandtrees]

the thing about curly is that it feels like a copout to describe him as "too nice" but i think that really is the situation with him. i feel when talking about him as a leader there's a lot of talk about the anya and jimmy stuff but i feel not a lot about the parts that show his passiveness causing problems before then.

most notably, that he let daisuke aboard a ship not made for five people, and that he told the others about the layoffs before he was meant to. both very well-intentioned, interpersonally Nice things to do, that were welcome as a friend who cares about the crew, but less so as an authority figure who's supposed to have a spine about those sorts of things.

he's not really thinking about the repercussions for revealing this information, or the impact it'll have on his crew's mental states in the months they have left for their last haul, because in his eyes - and this is something he tells both anya and jimmy - they'll Get Through It Together. curly is someone who reassures the people around him a lot in his dialogue. he cares a lot about people but does, in fact, care too much, and when it comes down to it, he can't do much except care.

an important thing to note with the anya situation (specifically in contrast to the "curly only cared about jimmy" take i see around) is that curly does reassure her, and i think did genuinely believe what he was saying when he told her everything was going to be okay and that they'd figure it out together. it's just that he also told those things to jimmy, and when you're a person as passive as curly, if you don't put your foot down people are going to weasel in and use that as an opening.

curly was a good friend, but not a good leader. there's only so much that reassurances without tangible action can do for someone in the state anya was in. he likely let daisuke board because he felt for and liked him, disregarding the fact it was literally unsafe for him to do so because of the pod situation. he told the crew they were getting laid off because it felt right for him to do so, he acted as a "friend" and not as a "leader".

and this is really cool contrast to jimmy, imo, who has no sense of compassion and is quick to take impulsive, ruthless decisions he expects praise for by sole virtue of being hard. jimmy would rather mouthwash someone's open wounds and force another to commit cannibalism than mercy-kill them - because someone dying under his care means he failed, and he can't have that, and so he will drag out their suffering for as long as humanly possible. he can't actually face the consequences of his actions.

both of them have this mantra of "i can fix it" without actually fixing much of anything - however i think curly differs in that he's a compassionate person who doesn't mind being on the same level as his crew (for better or worse), meanwhile jimmy can never shake the title of "captain" and the inflated sense of importance it gives him and that he projects onto curly. curly cares but doesn't act, jimmy acts but doesn't care.

BUT - i think a really interesting thing here too is how they act in the immediate danger of the crash. jimmy hides with his hands on his head, catatonic, while curly rushes in to try and salvage the ship even when it'll endanger him. jimmy is unable to face the gravity of what he did, while curly - even if he's not a good captain socially - is willing to put himself in danger to fix it. it gives the impression that while curly can't raise a hand against other people, he's willing to go down with his ship and put others before himself.

and putting others before himself is his entire relationship with jimmy, no? curly's dialogue with his crewmates is very reassuring, with a generous "we'll fix it together" attitude (see his patience with daisuke in the foam scene, and how he offers to do jimmy's psych eval when anya doesn't want to (compared to how jimmy would likely handle those situations, as we see when he yells at anya when asked to do tasks for her)) - BUT i would argue it's even moreso apparent with jimmy.

curly's povs, in my mind, offer the views on characters we don't see from jimmy's perspective, as jimmy cherrypicks scenes to paint anya as incompetent, daisuke as stupid and spoiled, swansea as mean and unstable - with curly, we see anya is gossipy and likes to joke around, daisuke is willing to fix problems by himself even if he struggles, et cetera. and with curly, we see, in how he talks to and about jimmy, he's very... concerned for him? and walks on eggshells around him.

^^^ after jimmy has pivoted a conversation curly was having about his life to be about his insecurities, and curly takes the bait and reassures him.

in general, he seems wary of jimmy as someone who will blow up if not reassured.

and he talks to, and about him, like he's taken on this quasi-therapist "responsible" role for him. he has this very... mental health-centered way of talking to jimmy - we'll fix it together, one day at a time, hey i believe in you, etc. which gives me the impression of, and this happens very often, a very trusting and overly-empathetic guy who's been roped into a relationship with someone whose safety and actions have been made his responsibility.

(i obviously don't mean this to woobify curly, or to diminish the game's commentary on rape culture, but rather to express that there's more to curly's behavior around jimmy than "shitty men cover for eachother".)

and i think one of the ultimate tragedies of curly's character is that, in the end, what jimmy projects on him -

-was true. this is how curly thought, before he was forced to come to terms, via experiencing jimmy's abuse of him, witnessing anya's suicide and the others' bodies, that jimmy was a monster who was never going to care about curly the way curly cared about him.

but, because jimmy views curly, now disabled, as a complete blank slate because he physically cannot speak for himself, jimmy continues to project upon him the dynamic that did exist between them - no matter the horrors he puts curly through, because if curly let him get away with it then, he'd let him get away with it now, right?

and when curly didn't put his foot down when it mattered, he now no longer can - and so jimmy's words, as long as he's as unable to speak for himself as he was back then, will be in his mouth forever.

:(

[tinylilacbun]

Based on the scene where JJ saves Sarah from drowning but with maybank!little!reader instead!!

The sun casts an ever burning heat over the dunes of Morocco, Rafe and the pogues clinging onto the thought that you and JJ are alive and well, the constant unease going through the group but neither of them giving up hope.

Rafe sits on a dune with a good amount of distance from the others, lost in thought and staring at the ocean, desperately waiting for you to emerge any second.

If those idiots wouldn't have tied him in the bathroom he could've saved you, he could've prevented the worst thing he ever thought possible, losing you.

The thought of you all alone and scared, screaming for him to come and save you nags on his mind constantly.

Sarah occasionally goes over to him, pleading him to drink some water to keep at least hydrated, telling him that him dying from dehydration won't help you if you and JJ actually show up.

He keeps silent until she walks away again, grabbing the bottle of water and taking a few sips, the ache of his throat momentarily distracting him from the sting in his chest.

At night he couldn't get himself to sleep, too much on edge to close his eyes even for a moment. Everyone else is already sleeping and the silence is only broken by Sarah's sudden voice. "We'll find them soon. She'll be okay."

Rafe looks at her for a moment before looking back straight ahead again. "I never wanted her to be involved in this in the first place."

"Do you think JJ did? You know how she doesn't like to do what she's told, she's a Maybank after all." She responds, throwing another piece of wood into the fireplace.

Another day of waiting and Rafe keeping his distance, not wanting the others to see how terrified he actually is as he keeps turning the ring on his finger, the moment of where proposed to you before all this stuff happened replaying in his head.

Over the time in your relationship he kept promising that he will take care of you, to protect you from any harm, and he failed. He failed you.

Looking to the side his body stiffens, lifting his head when he sees blurry figures in the distance. He stands up, thinking he now starts hallucinating from the heat, lifting his hands to block the sun.

As the figures draw closer his legs automatically drag him in their direction, sliding down the dune. He picks up his pace, the shapes turning more clear.

You are so exhausted, your legs hurting together with your dry throat. JJ has an arm draped over your shoulders, keeping up his usual joking persona to light up your mood.

"I swear when we get that crown I'll buy a whole toy store empty just for you." He says with a smile and you giggle at that.

By the call of your name you stop in your tracks, tearing your gaze from the sand to see someone approach you both, instantly recognizing who the voice belongs to.

"Rafe..."

Letting your shoes fall from your shoulders you start running without hesitation, almost stumbling a few times as you can see Rafe more clearly and jump into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Rafe holds you tightly against him, fearing that if he lets go that you'll just disappear again. He buries his face in your shoulder, hearing you start to sob. "You're okay...I've got you."

"I-I thought you...I-" You stammer but he just shushes you softly.

"I'm here now. Daddy's here..." He assures you, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. "I'll never let you go again..."

He gently sets you back down onto the sand, pulling back to cup your face in his large palms, scanning over your face to make sure you're really standing in front of him, tears pricking in his eyes.

Rafe leans down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before pulling back again. "I thought I lost you..."

"I-I was drowning but Jay saved me..." You explain while sniffling, turning your head to look at JJ who has his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Are the others okay?" JJ asks and Rafe nods.

"They're up there." He answers, pausing for a moment before asking. "You good?"

"As good as I can be." He replies, walking past you both and patting his shoulder.

You both follow behind him while Rafe has an arm around your waist to keep you close and you lean your head against him, your arms still wrapped around him as you continue walking.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Supersons +1 prompt answer

If you asked Danny, 12 year old half-ghost hero of Amity Park, how half-life was going, he'd tell you things were mixed.

On the one hand, he had just spent the last three or four months in family/scientist/'this house is a death trap waiting to happen' therapy with Jazz, and by some miracle, it worked. He wasn't sure if this was some kind of dream as his parents poured over years upon years of research, crossing out lines, rewriting equations, and reevaulating everything they thought they knew about ghosts.

Was the shudders family therapy worth not going over how they'd like to dissect him? he's still not sure. The horror.

Not to mention the attention. Danny was sure he was going to throw up if his parents drag him away for more bonding time, only for a ghost to attack and for him to run off to transform. What made it worse was when the Fentons came barrelling out, guns blazing, alternating between getting mad that he'd interrupted their family time, and asking him questions about "Your suspicious spook culture, if you even have one you dangerous delusional delinquent!"

At least they were trying, but Danny was very much comfortable not spilling the beans on the whole half-ghost situation, thank you very much.

And that's why, when Dad proposed to take him to Gotham to show off their latest invention, he jumped at the chance. The home city of the Batman, one of the greatest heroes known to man (except for Martian Manhunter and Superman of course) and Dad promised to take him to Gotham Observatory too. Not to mention how much he wanted to get away from Jazz's smug looks of superiority. Gotham here he comes!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian Wayne scowled as he scanned the crowed of scientists with more smarts than sense. Really, a flying toilet seat. For what deviant?

"Maybe they're for people who can fly." Kent piped up beside him. Father had let the two of them run off together, and his company was mildly more appealing than being alone with his thoughts.

"Why would Superman ever need to relieve himself mid-air. I do not believe you would appreciate your father's rear end being on display for all the world to see."

"True." Jon hummed. His voice lowered to a whisper. "You think indecent exposure is what your dad meant by "scoping out any potential future villains?"

Damian gave Jon a flat look. The sooner this convention ended, the better.

The crowded shifted, and the mass of visitors pushed toward a certain corner, where a man large enough to rival Superman's build stood upon a podium, with a boy their age off to the side.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you the latest in FentonWorks' innovations, the Fenton Ghost Zone Radar, soon to revolutionise the study of ghosts!"

"I thought ghosts were a magic thing." Jon said. "You know, stuff Constantine and JLD deal with."

"They are."

"Mixing magic and science is like, like, oil and water. No way this guy's serious, is he?"

"His name is Jack Fenton. That's Daniel Fenton, his son." Damian pointed to the boy in question, looking like he'd seen this scene a hundred times before, but with that knowing glint that promised something deeper. "They're normally spotted alongside Jack's wife, Madeline. Widely regarded as quacks by the larger scientific community for chasing paper-thin theories about ghosts, they've nonetheless gained funding from the government. This is the first time they've left their base of operations in Amity Park for years."

"Woah, you know your stuff, Dami!"

Damian glared at the young Superboy in disguise. "I read the briefing files. Didn't you?"

Kent looked uncomfortable and looked away. "Uhh, maybe?"

"Typical."

"Well, if he's so crazy, then why'd your dad even let him in." Upon another scathing glare, Kent relented. "Oh right, the whole supervillain thing."

"Enough chatter. We'll zero in on the younger Fenton. I intend to squeeze him like a grape, and make Father proud."

"Dami maybe you should be a little nicer-" Only for Damian to march off without him.

Honestly, inane niceties were above someone of his status. Those things were Superboy's job, and if Daniel Fenton wouldn't crack, then Damian was itching to try a new torture technique.

@impyssadobsessions

[mandy-asimp]

A game for two

Pairing: emily Prentiss x fem! Reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: teasing, profanity, smut, fluff(?),

Summary: y/n is the youngest agent with a TikTok account. And after video goes viral, people notice a connection between her and emily.

"Come on Pen! It'll be a quick break. No longer than thirty minutes!" Y/n beamed as she dragged Penelope from her office.

It was a known scene for anyone to see. The youngest member of the BAU pulling someone or a few others with her to teach them a new trend. Posting on a page she ran and deemed the official BAU page, naming it bootylicious_BAUbaddies. Fitting.

"What even is the trend this time? You post like every single day, people are gonna think we don't do our jobs." The blonde grabbed the phone. It was a complex dance with a lot of camera work. "This is what you want to post onto the BAU page? You don't think it's a bit risqué?"

The word made Y/n laugh, "it's an unofficial page under my personal information. I can post whatever I want. Plus, you are the only one who understands camera work." That's when her eyes landed on Matt and JJ walking in. "Omg! Can you guys throw papers and be flashlights?!"

"Y/n...we just got home from a case. It's almost midnight." JJ sighed, putting her stuff down anyways to help out. "Is it another dance?"

"Another? You did one today?" Penelope frowned, had Y/n found someone else to film her?

"It was a rough draft of the dance. So I could critique it and work on it. I only learned it this morning. Spencer filmed...but he doesn't have your magic Penelope," she reassured. "Lights on the sides at all times, Penelope moves forward following me, and it'll be a one take if you do it right."

Emily watched the one take from her office. Amazed by how smoothly someone could move even after a long day of murder. But yet, there was Y/n. Stretching very lightly before getting in position. The faint music from the phone played as Y/n moved in ways that made Emily blush from her office.

"You had all this energy for that dance, but you didn't have enough when running?" JJ teased, putting her phone away as she collected her belongings. "Goodnight to you all, I hopefully won't see you till nine." She left quickly, needing to get home.

Everyone else was close behind as their day came to an end. Another case and dance completed.

What Y/n didn't know, was that dance would be the one to bring her page to light.

By the morning, when Y/n was on her way, she had checked. Laughing a little bit about is the video blew up, but she scrolled and found another little idea to do. It was something simple and sweet, giving a kiss on the cheek to everyone and seeing their reaction.

It truly was harmless since the team was used to her affectionate behavior. She made it known that she cares for everyone on levels they don't even realize. How she had made it a point to spend time with them all individually continuously.

By the time she got to the bureau she could spot almost nobody. Her eyes jumped to the round table room, frowning as they all waved her in.

She set her stuff down and trudged over, "one day serial killers will respect our schedule." She sat before looking at the screen. Her frown instantly becoming laughter as it was her video. "Thats what you all were in here for?"

"Well it's only been up for a few hours and it's already surpassed three million likes." Penelope dropped the tablet with the data pulled up. "You put the BAU as one of the top units now."

"Means we'll have a lot more attention on us, and as the unit chief I have to remind you, just because it's personal, doesn't mean it won't affect you. If something is posted that is not appropriate to share, there will be consequences. Use this freedom wisely Y/n." Emily bowed her head and walked out. Heading to her office, where she would watch the dance over a few times before getting back to work.

And that's how most the day was. Just another paper work day with Y/n going around and gauging reactions from everyone for her next video.

Penelope covered her face and kissed her all over, leaving bright pink lipstick marks and a blushing Y/n. They also recorded the cleaning up and retouching as a separate video.

Luke gave his classic smile, which only earned him an eye roll and a playful laugh as he spun her and dipped her.

JJ smiled and gave a wide smile. The two talked about how sometimes the trends Y/n did brought light to such a dark job. And JJ really appreciated that.

Spencer was taken aback and started spewing facts about germs as Y/n wiped off her lips gloss from his cheek.

Rossi thought the trend was stupid, but still let it happen. Never having a smile on his face, making the viewers think he wasn't a happy old man.

The only one left was Emily. And Y/n couldn't have been happier. She knocked lightly before waltzing in. Setting the phone down on the desk, already recording as Y/n pulled over a chair.

"And what is this trend?" Emily looked at the camera, more watching how Y/n fixed her appearance and reapplied lip gloss. She was so entranced by the young agent.

Her eyes then jumped back to herself, she had silver hair and a few wrinkles. She wasn't as young as she used to be anymore. "You are still beautiful for your age, Prentiss." Her voice broke in. Could she read minds? "No you forget I'm one of the best qualifying new agents in my generation. Of course I can read your mind when you space off."

"Right..." Emily whispered. "So the trend?"

Y/n beamed, "yes the trend! In short because I can't tell you too much, it's quick simple, and everyone else can tell you that if you need another backing source. Even Rossi took part."

Emily pondered over for a second, but overall agreed. "Ok. I'll bite."

And so the younger grabbed Emily's phone, having already pre sent her the audio before walking in. "You know, I'm surprised you even have TikTok on your phone. I figured you would've been apart of the group that thinks it's useless and a waste of time. But then when I got the little notification that you joined, I have to admit, I got a bit excited. I can teach you about it if you ever need. And teach you any trend you want to learn." Y/n rambled on. Not giving Emily a chance to say anything as the sound started.

Soft music began to play as the two sat there and Y/n just so suddenly turned and kissed Emily's cheek. Her lip gloss shining against her pale skin, that soon turned a light pink. Her world went silent as her heart hammered and she looked to Y/n with a stunned smile.

It was silent as the two just stared at each other. But it wasn't a friendly stare it seems, Emily was looking absolutely smitten and Y/n could see it. The thought that her boss could possibly like her making her grow a matching pink.

The sound ended and began to replay, but was lost upon deaf ears. Suddenly the room felt different. Did it suddenly get warm in here?

Y/n was forced to watch as Emily glanced down to her lips. Licking her own in the process. It made her blush even deeper. "Emily..." she barely got out.

The silver fox leaned in closer to her prey. Suddenly eager to get just a taste. Her hand reached up to cup Y/n's soft cheek, feeling truly how warm she was. Smiling down at the stunned agent.

She pulled Y/n closer. Just barely touching their lips. Emily enjoyed the small gasp that escaped as her eyes widen in shock.

However, the knock at the door ruined their moment. Emily grabbed her phone, turning it off to end the song playing on repeat. That's when she noticed the other phone still recording the whole moment. And she flashed a smile to the camera, her canine seeming to twinkle in the light.

"Come in," she recomposed herself. Hands folded on the table.

Y/n on the other hand, had composed herself on the outside. But internally she was a wreck. She never knew Emily would be so capable of making her a mess. Yeah, she's thought about it, but it wasn't anything like what just happened.

JJ poked her head in. "We just got a case....it's bad." The worry on her face being enough for both to snap into work mode.

~

The case was over in a week. A week of sleepless nights and too much coffee. Everyone was exhausted.

"I can not wait to be on that plane," Y/n groaned. "I swear I'm taking tomorrow off. I'm going to sleep all day long."

"Now that does not sound like a bad idea," Luke agreed, along with the others. "A nice little at home day. What do you say Chief?" He turned to Emily.

She took a good look at everyone's exhausted face, and her decision was clear but she took too long to observe and didn't notice Y/n walking over and hugging her.

"If you say no, I will make the world think you actually hate us." Y/n playfully threatened, smiling up to her boss and practically skipping back to her bags. "I mean it." She suddenly had a serious face on.

Emily knew it was just the sleep deprivation that was causing this much attitude. But a little part of her, felt that she really did mean it. "Fine, tomorrow you can all have the day off. It'll be Saturday anyways." She gave in.

They all cheered as they boarded the plane. Spencer spread out on the small couch, JJ across curled up into a chair, Luke and Rossi on the other side sitting horizontally from each other, Matt and Tara in the other seats across from each other. Then there was Emily.

Y/n figured she would've sat across her, keeping a small space, but she wasn't complaining when she sat next to her. "Switching it up on me?" She teased.

"Mm well, I figured last time we were this close we got even closer." She threw back, reminding the agent of their last encounter. "Did you ever post the video?"

Slightly stunned, she shook her head. Her ponytail brushing against the seat and reminding her of her headache. She went to reach for it, eager to pull it out.

"Here," Emily broke in quickly. "Let me," her hands were up by the black rubber band suddenly. Carefully pulling at it and the hair. Dropping the hair tie onto the table and taking it upon herself to scratch the others head. Her nails sending tingles all down Y/n's body.

And y/n couldn't deny it, Emily was good with her hands. She seem to suddenly know how to touch her in ways she didn't even know. She scratched in the right spot and she hummed a moan as her eyes were shut.

The team all looked over to the two of them. Questioning at first but then laughing. "So she finally gets the famous 'Prentiss scratch," Spencer cracks the joke.

"Have you all had one..." Y/n sharply inhaled when she got a new spot. "Ohmygod..." she whispered as her face contorted.

"Enjoy it while it last, you only experience it once. Mine was four years ago." Luke mentioned.

"Mine was for my birthday, I felt like my hair was thirty times lighter." JJ gave her experience. Soon everyone was talking about theirs.

And before she could process any words, Emily's hands were leaving from her head. "No, don't stop!" She protested, earning chuckles from around at the reaction. But her hands left anyways, and Y/n whipped to look at Emily. Her pupils blown wide.

It wasn't a reaction Emily thought she could get. Did her touch really work her agent up that much? A sly smirk crossed her lips as she shook her head and turned away.

"You can't just give us the knowledge of how good your head scratches are and then just rip it away! That's vicious!" She put up a fight. Hoping that it would get Emily to continue her actions. "I thought you liked us..." her eyes suddenly pleading.

"I'm with her on this one, come on Prentiss!" Luke played along. "It's a gift, those hands."

Y/n dropped her head to look at Emily's hands. They were stunning. How only a few rings decorated them, but they all matched perfectly. Matching the bracelet that wrapped her wrist. Then were her arms. Strong and yet so careful. Sculpted by the best.

"Those hands..." Y/n mouthed to herself. Her eyes snapping up to Emily's. Already finding hers staring back. With a huff and blushing cheeks, Y/n turned away.

~

Y/n woke up, but it was colder on the planes than usual. Everyone was asleep, and by best guess they still have four more hours. It was too cold to sleep though, she wanted her sweatshirt.

But she was on the inside, the window seat. It was either over and out or under or just climb over the sleeping woman.

"Do you need something?" Emily's eyes fluttered open. Her head rolling over to stare. Even waking up she was still beautiful.

"It's cold..." she mumbled. Hoping it wasn't to much to ask, "my sweatshirt is in my bag." But instead, Emily slipped out of hers and handed it over. Falling back asleep before any protest could begin.

She sat there with the sweatshirt in hand. Knowing there was nothing to do but put it on. And so she did, along with setting up her phone and grabbing the mic of her headphones.

The video began. "Hey vlog, or whatever...turns out, I read her ," the camera panned over to Emily. "Signs right! She gave me her sweatshirt and the video we made...guys listen I can't even add it in because of how intimate it is. Maybe I'm delusional though. Cause she's literally my boss ...I think I'm being crazy....nah, she definetly likes me. Emily Prentiss, I hope you're ready for what's next." And the video ended. Lasting a little over a minute.

But she didn't fall back asleep, she couldn't. Her mind raced with too much thoughts. For another two hours she had to weighs her pros and cons of going for it.

Eventually she rubbed her eyes and sighed. She leaned back and closed her eyes again. Counting sheep until she drifted off.

A few more hours had passed, leaving only an hour left until the landing. Emily had woken up know. Instantly feeling something on her shoulder. Slowly looking down, she saw Y/n peacefully asleep.

In her moment, she pulled out her phone and took a few pictures. Dropping it quickly as the other stirred awake. Lifting her head and peeling open her eyes.

"That was some good sleep, holy shit." She yawned. Her comment earning tired laughs from everyone else. She leaned over to Emily, "see how they all are followers? Waking up at the same time as me? Wannabes." She joked.

Emily shook her head. "I'm glad you got some sleep." She hummed. Checking her phone now, and when she opened it, the pictures were pulled up. She tried to swiped out of them, but Y/n had seen them.

Blushing madly when the woman met her eyes. It was a hard stare, causing feelings to arise when they shouldn't. Her legs squeezed slightly at the eye contact. "Was that...I'm sorry if I was leaning, I truly didn't mean to." The apology fell with a laugh following. It was genuine and still light. "You're a little weird though, Unit Cheif Prentiss. Taking pictures of your young sleeping agent."

Her comment was full of playfulness. Emily knew that easily. It made her smile slightly. "Can you blame me? When a cute agent as yourself is sleeping, it's no doubt I'd take pictures."

Y/n elbowed her arm and shook her head, looking down to her phone. "Be careful, if someone sees they'll think I'm your sugar baby." The joke fell without second thought.

It caught Emily off guard. How easy the joke was made. She didn't continue playing the game, silently pondering over the joke.

"Seems like someone can't handle being a sugar mommy," Tara teased from across the way. Having watched the entire interaction. "Should make it your lock screen, really sell it. It'll bring you in more sugar babies. Have one for everyday of the week."

Y/n scoffed with a smirk, "who says I wanna share my new found sugar mommy? I like the attention only on me."

The jet laughed. "You make enough to not even need a sugar mommy, plus, sharing is caring." Matt butted in now.

"Even if I don't need financial support, Prentiss is still attractive and also...I don't care." She gave a shrug, looping her arms with the woman next to her and leaning on her. "There's only room for one sugar baby in her life."

Emily couldn't believe the conversation she was hearing. The term they kept using. Sugar mommy. Would Y/n let her spoil her if she asked?

Then there was the physical contact. How she held onto her. Pushing her breast against her arm and holding on so possessively. Who says I wanna share....her words rang in Emily's head. She wouldn't want to have anyone else if she had her.

She took a quick glance down to the other, finding her completely unphased by the conversation. Instead she was scrolling through her phone, looking for a new trend to partake in.

~

It had been a few days now. Everyone was doing paperwork and trying to finish their day. That's when Penelope came rushing in towards Y/n.

"People are noticing!" She squealed as she put the phone onto the desk. There was an edit made between the young agent and her boss. Comments about how they look 'down bad' for each other. "You and Emily are becoming a very popular topic, fifth trending hashtag."

"That's hilarious. How much evidence is built against us now?" She scrolled through a few comments, them all making her smile. She took it upon herself to scroll further on the new hashtag. Over a thousand videos reacting to the edit and a few more edits.

"Just wait till they find out she's your sugar mommy," Tara came and took interest in the phone as well. "Looking at it now, you two do look like you're beating around the bush."

"Well that's cus it's only a one sided bush. Emily Prentiss does not want anything romantic to do with me." Y/n clicked off the phone, handing it back over. "She probably wants someone more wise and shit. I have a TikTok account with the term bootylicious in it."

Both woman looked down in disbelief. That when JJ came in. "I have know Emily for a while now, and I can tell you know, that woman let's you get away with more than she ever would've. There's definitely two sides of the bush."

The woman in question came out, looking over her team and being curious of what the women were all talking about. "What's the conversation?"

Y/n sighed, "we've become a trending hashtag. They're beginning to think we're more than just friends. Then Tara made the joke about when they find out you're my sugar mommy." She explained shortly. Leaving out the bush part.

"Oh? What are they saying?" Emily questioned, almost feeling desperate to hear more of this new information.

Penelope opened the phone and handed it over. The four letting their boss scroll a bit and read. A small smile cracking on her lips. "Yeah...wait till they find out you're my sugar baby." Emily joked as well.

Truly, she was hiding the sudden excitement. Was there a chance? Surely she had made enough moves for the other to figure it...right? She almost did kiss her the other week.

"I have a meeting though, if anything comes through just shoot me a text." She made her exit, the smile really growing as she couldn't stop thinking of the two together. The things that she would do.

But the thoughts got lost over the long day. Papers being filled out and turned in. By the end, everyone was just happy to be free.

Emily had walk out, her bag in hand. Confirming they were actually done.

"We so have to get drinks. We haven't had a day were we finished reasonably on time." Y/n groaned, stretching from her chair. "Plus I wanna do who we all think will be the drunkest."

"If it's a competition I'm so there," Luke agreed. "But you're so going down."

Tara scoffed, "you do not want to play any drinking game with that one. She reigns undefeated on girls nights."

"We don't know how she does it, she's held the title since the first night. We were all set up that night..." Penelope reminisced in the memory. How drunk they all were...

"But you're so welcomed to try, Alvez." She beamed in pride. "I say we all change and meet in an hour?"

They all agreed and began to walk out together. Emily noticed how Y/n walked over to Penelope's car. "I can drive you?" She offered. "I live closer than Pen does to you so she wouldn't have to go out her way."

She glanced to Penelope, her head now facing away from Emily. Giving the blonde a wink before turning back. "Sure, it makes more sense. Though, this is very sugar mommy esc of you, Emily." She joked as she walked over. Looking through her lashes with such an innocent look, "I bet you'll even put your hand on my thigh and help me pick what to wear, won't you?"

Emily stared down, her pupils dilating at the words. Her lips curled into a devious smile. Her mind running with possibilities.

She simply turned, leading back to her car. Opening the door for the other as she slowly rounded the car, the smirk never leaving her lips.

And for the entire drive her hand traced circled on the others thigh. Yet, Emily never got a reaction. Y/n played it cool and just scrolled through her phone.

Although, Y/n could hardly read anything on her screen. The burning sensation being the only thing she could truly think of. But she enjoyed the game, eager to see how much Emily could take before loosing it.

They parked and walked in silence next to each other. The teen in the main lobby giving a second glance at how the two looked. She had seen the edit and couldn't believe her eyes now. Quick to pull out her phone and film the two getting into the elevator. Capturing how Emily's right hand fell to Y/n's lower back and the two shared a look before moving. Disappearing into the silver box.

Y/n gave a small exhale once it was just the two of them. "Someone can't handle their own game?" Emily's words were quick. Her eyes already staring back and full of wonder.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Agent Prentiss" she tried to deny the grin but it was useless once she looked at Emily. The whole situation was just setting in to her.

It set in even faster when the silver fox had her against the elevator wall. Her right hand gripping at her jaw as the other held her close by the waist. "You don't seriously think you'll win, do you?" Her voice was vicious. "Y/n, you're so much smart than that." Her brown eyes scanned over ever feature, lasting the longest on the plush lips.

The elevator dinged, and in a blink Emily was off her. Standing as if nothing happened, but she was stunned when Y/n walked away...unbothered entirely.

Her hands fiddled with her keys before finding the one to unlock her apartment. Laughing lightly as Emily rested her hands on her hips. "You are handsy, I must say." She joked. As the door unlocked, her hips pushed back into the others, causing the hands to slip more forward. A playful gasp came, "maybe even too handsy!"

She broke from the grasp, entering the home and taking a deep breath. "It's nice to be home," she dropped her stuff by the door. Y/n disappeared around a corner, only giving the choice to follow.

When Emily obeyed, she was speechless. The view from the big window was insane. Being able to see over half the city and the bureau. "If you would like to pregame, I have a mean stash of dark."

"Trying to get me drunk already?" The older came closer, leaning against the cool marble counter. Once again, her answer was a mere laugh.

Y/n had this glimmer in her eyes. It's the same one she has every time she's about to say something unexpected. This time being no different.

She came close to her boss, leaning into her and pulling her down by the neck. "I don't need you to be drunk for you to sleep with me. I already have you and you didn't even notice, so much for a profiler." She backed off now, still housing that devious look. "It's a shame the teams waiting for us, would've loved to see where this went..." her voice trailed off as her eyes looked Emily up and down.

Y/n winked, leaving the guest in the living room as she went to her bedroom. At first not hearing foot steps behind her, then they were hot on her trail. Glancing over her shoulder, she couldn't help the rush of excitement at the frustrated Emily. Everything was going to plan.

Emily turned to shut the door, carefully and not slamming it. Spinning on her heal to really lay it down, but Y/n stood by the closet entrance fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Pulling it up slowly, but right when her bra shows, she turns. Entering the closet with a sexy sway in her hips.

She passed through her outfits, trying to find the new dress she ordered. As she was about to push the George Town sweater over, hands wrapped around her waist and a nose was burrowing into her hair.

She let it play out, continuing to search for the dress. Stepping over twice while the woman still held her. Her hand pushed the black formal dress over, finding just what she was looking for. She felt the felt of the hanger under her hand, but forgot everything by a new touch. Soft lips hovered over her neck, letting warm breaths fan over the skin. Skilled hands roaming up to her chest and cupping her boobs through the bra.

The moan was light, quiet. But the groan following from behind was deep, lustful. "Is that all it took? Touching you right?" Emily whispered against her ear.

Y/n wanted to cave in, she was ready to as well, but she knew just one more would win her everything. So, with a steady hand, she grabbed the dress and turned in Emily's arm. "And what would you know about touching me right? Do you fantasize about me? Is that how you know?" Her voice steadier than ever.

Emily let her tongue dart over her lips. "You have no idea..." she thought this was it. That drinks would be forgotten and she could finally have her.

But it's never easy with Y/n. "I can give you a sneak peak if you'd like..." she beamed up to Emily. Not giving her the chance to respond as the younger stood on her tip-toes to be next to her ear. Fake quiet moans falling from her plush lips, "oh...right there...yes Emily...yes.."

Her grip tightened on the other's waist as her breathing became erratic. "Baby, id make you scream." She leaned her lips closer. She was right there, lips practically on hers.

That's when the small laugh came, and Emily had no idea what was so funny. "I always win," was all she got out before breaking away and leaving Emily on the verge on loosing it.

She groaned again, this time in frustration. Her head was shaking as she tried to piece together what the next move could be. The dress, she figured.

Her eyes snapped up when she thought of the outfit. Hands covering her face as she tossed her head back. It hugged onto her so well, showing off enough legs to keep Emily busy for hours. The perfect amount of cleavage could be seen. And the flowy sleeves to give a little arm coverage. It fell right below her ass.

Emily swallowed thickly as she left towards the door. Trying to ignore the sound of laughter that followed her out. "Can't handle a little skin?" She teased as she brushed pass. Locking her door before looping her arm to Emily's and handing over her keys.

The action confused Emily. "Why didn't you bring a purse? I'm sure you had one?" They stood outside the elevator.

"I don't plan to come home tonight," Y/n hummed. She stepped a little closer to the woman, squeezing her arm just a little to bring her eyes down. "That is...if you give up first. Cause I can play this out all night. And personally, I don't think you can last all night."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, bunny." She gave the new nickname. And it made Y/n's heart beat a little faster and her smile grow a little more. The blush dusting her cheeks as her pupils dilated a little more.

"Bunny? Is that because you're a silver fox?" Y/n joked, feeling excited at the new found name. The elevator opened and the two get on. Just them. Neither one stepping away or saying anything until they hit the eight floor.

The doors opened and in walked a man that seemed unfamiliar. He was fine as he was...until he gave a once over on Y/n, then one on Emily. The difference being the smirk he gave the first, then the disgusted he gave the second.

He seemed closer to Y/n's age, and that's what they assumed was the reason for his comment. "If you ever get tired of the old hag, I can support you." The words fell out and both agents seemed star struck.

"And what is it you do for a living?" Y/n asked, loving how the interacting had Emily pull her closer to her and wrapped her arm around to hold her hips.

"I'm a college professor. Youngest in my building." He flashed his smile. Enjoying the attention, but soon letting his mood fall when the woman shared a look. "And what does she do? Crochet and feed her cats?"

"She's the FBI's section chief....so I think she's got you beat..." Y/n shrugged with a mocking look. Getting a mean look as he got off on the fifth floor. Grumbling as he shook his head. The doors closed a few seconds after. "I told you people think you're my sugar mommy."

Emily scoffed and let the tiny smile spread on her lips. "Maybe you're the one who fantasizes...this whole sugar mommy talk. Would you like me to spoil you rotten? Is that what this whole game is?" Her hand sliding down from the hip to rest right on her lower back.

It was a quick motion suddenly. She pushed Y/n forward and let her arms wrap her up. Her left hand holding onto the left boob and her right hand gripping her right thigh.

Y/n's hips pushed back into Emily. "I don't kn-,"

"I don't know? But bunny, you do know. You know you want to give in and just let me have you." Her hand slid closer to her core. "We could have so much fun if you give in."

It was tempting, but she shook her head. They were at the second floor. Trying to ignore the hand slipping into her panties. How close she was.

The elevator dinged, and Emily was off in no time. Something she was so good at. Disappearing like a ghost. Leaving Y/n cold from her touch.

The doors opened and Y/n relooped their arms. Passing the teen in the lobby once again. Y/n flashing her a friendly smile as they left. Emily's car being right in the front.

~

It was about two in the morning, and the drinking battle was about to begin. With the entire bar watching, Luke and Y/n had ten shots of light, and three dark shots.

Matt stood behind him, cheering him on. Saying how the rumors were fake and she couldn't drink. And Y/n knew they were all drunk and just saying things cause they can.

Emily was behind her. Hands on her hips as she gave them a squeeze. "Put him in his place and make me proud, bunny." Her voice was seductive on all levels.

Y/n met Luke's eyes. Both having hands on the pool table by their first shot. "You're so fucked Alvez," she slurred. She leaned over to him slightly, "I'm gonna make her proud."

"Wait let's film this!" Penelope came up. Setting up one of their phones to capture both of them. Giving a drunk thumbs up as Tara stood on the other end.

She inhaled, "ok, I want it nice and clean. Ready.." the room went silent. "Set..." the two contestants glance at each other one last time. "Go!" Tara shouted.

It was a blur, truly. Shot after shot. They stayed close the entire time, but by the fifth, Luke began to slow by a millisecond. That was all Y/n need for a lead, and she jumped three shots ahead. Making it to the darks before he could get down his sixth. Cheering when she slammed down the last one.

Her arms in the air as the room cheered with her. "I told you Alvez! I make my woman proud!" She gloated around. Reaching and grabbing the two dark shots he never made it to and turned to hand one to Emily. Pleased when she understood and they shared the victory.

JJ laughed at the sight, "do you even have a limit?" She also grabbed an unfinished shot. Passing one to Tara and Penelope. Matt taking the last vodka shot and handing Rossi the dark.

Y/n shook her head with a wide smile. "I was the academies party animal. I had to be able to out drink everyone." She spilled her secrets.

"You're who threw the party that nearly caused a city power outage?" Tara furrowed her brows, enjoying the openness.

Y/n grinned, "that's me! I out drank Captain Johnson that night." She took pride in that achievement.

"Mmm as much as I would love to hear a drunk confession, we are closed. Your drinking battle was the last round I poured." The bartender came over and informed.

And everyone was out within half an hour. The team biding drunken goodbyes as they went their own ways. Everyone too drunk to notice Y/n and Emily leaving together.

Their drive back to the closer apartment being filled with humming and wind blowing through the car. They stopped at a stop sign, and Y/n stopped humming along.

A sudden realization that the night was almost over...and Emily had still yet to make the her move. "What's wrong?" Her voice rang through her head. "You seem upset now..." the worry laced her words, only to be countered with a cute pout.

"You're being stubborn." Y/n grumbled. The effects of how much she drank really getting her in the car. Which was new for Emily to be witnessing.

She figured that the passenger would be more submissive now, but that would be too easy. Y/n was the farthest thing from easy. Always throwing in a curve ball. This was her drunken curve ball.

While the light stayed red, she just acted. Grabbing Emily's jaw with her light pink nails digging just slightly into her soft flesh. She brought the older closer, tight to touching their lips.

"Why won't you give in?" She pouted. Eyes flickering down to her lips, then back up. "Do you not want me? Have you played me Emily?" Her voice was quiet and fragile.

A laugh nearly fell out of Emily's mouth, but she contained it. Grabbing the hand that held her face, "because I want to be able to do whatever I want with you." She pulled the hands away as the light turned green. Y/n huffed and crossed her arms. Looking away and out the window. "Pouting about it won't help your side, bunny. You could give in and we'd be over this game already."

"No," the response was instant. Her eyes wide and back on Emily. "I'll play this game forever until you give in. I know you want me in ways I can't even think of, so you'll be the one suffering. Especially since you can't do anything about it." She yapped. Her mind truly telling her that her plan was going to work.

Emily rolled her eyes as they pulled up to Y/n's apartment. Ignoring the questions of why they were here. She opened the passenger door, sighing at the agent who was acting childish.

"Y/n."

"No."

"Y/n, let's go."

"No."

They got into a staring match. And Emily was just not having it anymore. It was late and she was tired just as much as the other was. So instead, she reached in.

"Wait no, stop!" Y/n tried to protest but the hold Emily had was too strong. She was thrown over the shoulder as she kept trying to get free. "Out me down! My butts gonna show!"

That's when a hand was placed over it. Holding the dress down and making Y/n burn red. As soon as it was there, it was gone and she was set down. Facing the elevator.

"You're no fun." She grumbled. Meeting the brown eyes in the reflection. It earned her a small laugh as the doors opened and she got nudged in.

"And you're drunk. If that's even possible." Emily joked. Her hands found home on the others waist. Holding her swaying body up and from falling. "But you did take thirteen shots in a row. Which I must say, is pretty impressive."

Y/n suddenly switched moods. Turning with a bright smile. "Anything to make you proud." Her eyes being genuine with each word. "Luke never stood a chance anyways."

"That confident from the start, huh?" Her brow arched in question.

Y/n shrugged, "I had you on my side from the start. Well actually I planned it and you fell right into the trap. But shhh that's a secret." Her index finger rose to her lips.

"Your trap?" Emily was full of curiosity now. What plan did she come up with? "Tell me about it?" But she shook her head, spinning to face the silver doors. "Please? What did that pretty head plan?" Still nothing. "Bunny?"

The doors opened and the younger was gone. Swaying while fidgeting with her keys for the right one.

It wasn't until Emily came up and carefully grabbed the keys. Getting the door open in only a few seconds. The accomplishment getting a loud cheer from Y/n, who was being directed into the apartment.

This did not set well with Y/n. And making it easy wasn't gonna happen either.

Before Emily knew it, she was chasing Y/n down the hallway. Scooping her up bridal style. "We do not need to be running around like this. Someone will hear us and file a complaint."

Y/n gave a chuckle, "we're the only ones on the floor," she pointed Emily's chest. Stumbling into the apartment and kicking off her shoes. She found her way to infront the big windows.

Emily moved in the silence to get a glass of water. She figured Y/n would stay by the window...but then again she just chased her down the hall.

Arms wrapped around her and a head hit the back of her dark silk shirt. The action was cute, she'd admit that, but she was also set to get some water in with all the alcohol.

Without thinking much of her actions, she turned and gently gripped the jaw. Tilting her head back and bring the glass to her lips. "Drink." Emily simply commanded. Watching at how easily she complied, tapping twice on her wrist to say she was done. "No. All of it. If you can do thirteen shots you can finish a glass of water."

~

Waking up, Y/n felt like hot garbage. She had to have been drunk last night for the consequences she would face. Especially once her stomach begin to turn. In a blink she was in the bathroom. Letting the night free from herself.

There was a hand holding back her hair and another on her back. And if she wasn't regretting whatever happened, she would've been in defense mode instantly.

"I'll go get you some water," Emily's voice rang in her head. Oh dear god. What happened last night?

She sat back and tried to recall anything. Not getting past roughly ten. She came home with Emily, then went out for drinks, then had said drinks.

The possibilities of what could've happened continue to haunt her. "Here," the voice broke her thoughts. She looked up to Emily, who was giving such a kind look almost always while looking at her and holding out a glass of water.

It made her feel less nervous. "Emily Prentiss, did you sleep with your sugar baby while she was drunk?" She joked about what she thought happened, taking the glass. She wanted to know what happened in the missing hours.

The comment made her boss flush pink, "no! No you were far too out of it for anything of that sorts..." She shook her head, pausing ever so slightly. "I'd want you to remeber screaming my name."

It was Y/n's turn to flush. "Well played." She downed the water and got up. "Unfortunately I don't remember much after ten...and seeing that it is well into the day makes me assume it was a long night?" She prepared to brush her teeth and rid of the lingering taste in her mouth.

Emily laughed at the confession. "So you would say you finally got drunk?" She teased, coming up close to the other. Y/n rolled her eyes and was about to walk away from the bathroom. But Emily grabbed her wrist and spun her back. Holding her firmly at the waist. "You didn't answer my question."

"Wouldn't you enjoy that? Me obeying you so easily?" Y/n was so easy to quip back. Never in the mood to back down. "And even if I did confess that to you, nobody would believe you."

Emily was surprised at the remark. "You think the team wouldn't believe me? And why's that? You have something to counter it?"

"If you as much say a word of me being drunk, you'll never get what you want. And I will make it only hell for you." She got closer, the two being nothing but a whisper apart.

"And what is it I want?"

"Me."

"Confident much?"

Y/n answered with a smirk of many implications. Leaving the grasp to change into a different lounge outfit.

"Do you have any Saturday plans I should be aware of?" Emily sat on the edge of the bed. Watching as Y/n moved to collect a new outfit. Throwing each article onto the bed.

"Why yes, actually! I have a hot date coming over." She flashed a smile over her shoulder. "Wouldn't want to third wheel would you?"

Emily rolled her eyes and looked towards the window, facing away from Y/n. "Your date would be the one third wheeling." She was about to stand, but she was weighed down.

Y/n had made her way over into Emily's lap, straddling her and looking down to her. "You're right. Especially because you're my sugar mommy. If they touched you I think I would've lost it."

"So you admit it?" Emily had a hopefully grin. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, this was it.

"Admit to what exactly?"

"That you would let me spoil you. Be your sugar mommy?"

"Mm...no. I don't need your money. Plus, being a sugar mommy is an arrangement with no feelings involved. And if I wanted to put myself through a literal living hell than I would, but that's not on my bucket list. Not good for my mental state either." She answered truthfully without directly saying her truth.

Emily processed the words, slowly putting them together. Not realizing how Y/n began to form a smile and get up. Her head shaking while she thought in her own world.

"I don't have any Saturday plans. The most is finding some movie that I haven't seen before. Do you have any Saturday plans?" She began to get dress.

Emily was still in her own world with the words. And when she looked back to the now dressed woman, she was full of questions.

"So does that mean...?" Was all she let out, still not knowing if she meant was she meant.

Y/n laughed and came to stand in front of Emily. Hands on her shoulders, and Emily's pulled her closer by the back of her thighs. "You are the worst profiler in the entire unit," Y/n teased, a cocky smirk in her lips.

"But that whole little game you played? You're telling me you meant it?" Emily stared up, confused still by the idea of it.

Someone as young as Y/n having a crush on someone older. Old enough to be her mother almost.

"The idea is not that hard to grasp Emily Prentiss. I like you for you. I don't want you for some arrangement. I want you as my girlfriend." Y/n cupped her cheek, bringing her lips to be just a breath away. "But now that you mentioned my little game, just know I still plan to win."

The younger began to back up, making the mistake of turning her back on Emily. It was the second her back was turned, that Emily was moving. Spinning her around and pinning her between the dresser.

"I am not playing your game anymore. You're not going to tell me all that and then just walk away after a night of teasing." Emily's eyes were dark and swarming with emotions.

Y/n cupped her cheek once more, watching the woman lean into the touch. Turning her head to place a kiss to her palm. From her palm to her fingertips and back, the action caused Y/n to fail at comprehending anything. How delicate Emily's lips were against her skin. To be able to feel her lips pushing against her skin.

"Give in." Y/n whispered, knowing she was only a few seconds off from giving in herself.

"What is winning to you?" Emily kept placing kisses against her skin, trailing up her arm and to her neck.

They met eyes finally, a hair apart as they stared at each other. Y/n licked her lips, "everything." And that's when Emily closed the space. Kissing hungrily but softly. Tasting the fresh mint in a delightful way.

Y/n smiled in the kiss, putting just as much emotion into it as the other, if not more. How her heart was beating to a fast pace tune, her mind was silent with only thoughts of Emily.

The two stayed there for a little before the kiss began to get more heated. Emily dropped to scatter kisses all over the others neck. Taking Y/n by surprise with a bite to her pulse point, eliciting a gasp and a grip in the silver mane.

Y/n tried to push off the dresser, her back still digging into the edge, but it seemed Emily was lost in the moment and almost growled. The sound was deep and her voice came out gravelly. "I could practically eat you, you're so sweet. Letting me have you here."

Her hands slipped under the oversized shirt, feeling how soft and warm Y/n was in contrast to her cold hands. Her rings not helping as the metal touched the skin.

Y/n tried to push off again, growing eager to get to the bed. "Emily...the bed is right behind us." She managed out, eyes glossy as she scanned over the messy duvet. Her hand came up to her chest when she didn't get an answer, pushing her off slightly to break her trance.

Emily's breathing was erratic and her pupils blown wide. Her brows dropped as she was confused by the push. "You got a bit too lost there," Y/n blushed. "Is that really what I do to you?"

"Oh bunny you have no idea," Emily smirked. Throwing a look over her shoulder to the bed. "Are you sure about this?"

Y/n followed and glance over Emily's shoulder, looking at the bed. "Yes. But...I won Emily." She smirked up, watching the dread fill her eyes. "Oh trust me, you'll enjoy me being in charge. I'm full of surprises remember?"

The older groaned and took a step back. "What is it you want me to do?" She sounded almost defeated.

Y/n laughed and pushed her back to the end of the bed. Leaning over her slightly, "you make it seem like I'm going to torture you. You wait here for five minutes, I'll knock and you'll close your eyes and then I'll tell you to open them, m'kay?"

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Fine." Emily agreed. Sitting for the two minutes on the edge of the bed, taking in every detail in the room. Hoping to see it again. The knock had came and Emily closed her eyes.

Y/n peeked her head in first, making sure they were closed. Before going in to set up her winning. She had changed into a cute lingerie set, one she knew Emily wouldn't be able to resist.

The outfit change taking five minutes. "Ok." She stood right in front of Emily. Entirely on display for her. "You can open your eyes."

And when Emily did, her mouth ran dry. Y/n looked absolutely stunning. "I don't.."

"Ruin me Emily Prentiss." Was all Y/n had to say before she was being pulled in and being covered in kisses.

Emily took her time covering every inch she could get with kisses. Leaving several hickies on her neck before scattering them all across her chest. To anyone else it would look like a whole different story.

Y/n's pants and moans spurred the boss on. She truly would start to believe Emily had fantasize about this for how she just knew where to touch. It made her squirm for more. "Mmm, Emily..."

"I'm going to take my time with you." She was nothing short of stating a fact. "You look so adorable in this set. Have you been saving it?" Her deep brown eyes bored down at Y/n. "Did you order it with that dress from last night? I never told you how good you looked." Her head dipped down and kissed over the hardened nipple. Sending a jolt of electricity through her body. "And then when you beat Alvez," a kiss to the other. "You truly are something special, Y/n."

Her hands slipped behind to unclasp the mesh bra. Freeing the boobs and watching them naturally be. Emily licked her lips once again, ducking to the right nipple first.

Her tongue swirling over it lightly at first, but then adding more pressure. Listening to the sinful sounds that rang in the room.

"Emily...please..." Y/n breathily begged. Not knowing if she was ready for what Emily was planning. But her answer was teeth grazing her chest. Earning a new sound from the woman above.

"Baby, best things come when you wait. I want to work you up so much that it's undeniable that you'll never want anyone else." Emily answered truthfully, continuing her ministrations.

Y/n was lost in the feeling, but it wasn't enough. And it was clear it wasn't going to be enough anytime soon.

And after minutes that felt like timeless hours, Emily began to move down further. Her hair tickling in her previous place. She was back to her loving kisses all across her thighs. Feeling the legs shake slightly.

"You're so easy to work up," Emily hummed against the inner thigh. Her eyes staring up at the beauty above her. Watching as her head shook side to side. "Really?"

"You're just better than what I imagined," Y/n confessed without thinking. Realizing her words too late to even take back, and she knew they fed Emily's ego like a three course meal.

She wanted more though. Emily pulled back and hovered over Y/n, a yearning look hidden behind all the lust. "You've imagine it? So you do admit it. You've thought about me in naughty ways, how perverted of you." A laugh followed out. Making Y/n suddenly feel small at the comment, and not in an enjoyable way.

There was no answer in return and that's when Emily could see through the clouds. She had crossed a line and potentially screwed everything up.

Without realizing, the silver fox backed off entirely. Moving to the end of the bed and rubbing her eyes a bit. "Y/n...I'm sorry if I've crossed a line."

The younger sat up, crawling over to the other. Grabbing her hands and holding them silently at first. Trying to gather the right words for this situation. "...it's ok, but just know you're dealing with a pillow princess in all honesty. I like to be treated highly, like when you call me bunny. I enjoy that very, very, much. Your stone cold demeanor is sexy at work, but I want the real Emily Prentiss. The one who knows what emotions are." She snuck her hand on Emily's cheek and leaned in. Kissing her softly and with unspoken words. "Now don't let this afternoon be ruined." Y/n whispered before slowly moving toward the middle of her bed.

Sitting on her knees with her back arched and pushing her bruised chest forward. Her eyes glistening for Emily to come finish what she's started.

And Emily was not going to miss her chance. She took a deep breath and her eyes were filled with lust again. Exciting Y/n on a new level. She made her way up, standing on her knees as her hands slipped around the smooth waist. Leaning in and claiming the plush lips as her own now, forcing Y/n to bend back as well. Emily sunk down with each kiss until she was eye level.

"Can I undress you?" Y/n fiddled with the shirt. Only now realizing that Emily was in her clothes. The shirt and sweats making her seem so at peace. But as her hardened nipples poked against the fabric, it was hard not to imagine the lack undergarments.

A small smile played on Emily's lips, "of course you can, bunny." The two stood and Y/n took her time. Trying to mentally prepare to see her wild thoughts with her own eyes now.

She played with the hem of the shirt, balling it up before pushing the fabric up. Showing of the freckles that adored her chest. Taking a moment to admire the skin details, eager to ingrain every spot into her brain.

Her eyes then jumped up to Emily, who was staring and focusing on every move. "You're absolutely stunning...." Y/n let the smile take over as she leaned in for a kiss. Their bare chests pressing against each other.

The warmth of Y/n clashing with the coldness of Emily. But together they balanced the other out. Cooling down the burning skin, and warming up the icy touches.

Pulling back only slightly, Y/n slid her hands down. Slipping her hands to push down the shorts. Revealing the simple black underwear.

"Those mine?" Y/n gave a playful laugh, figuring if everything else was.

Emily shook her head though, "no I went home while you were asleep. I had to change from last night's clothes."

Y/n furrowed her brows. "So then why wear my clothes?"

"So that even when you were asleep, I could still be surrounded by you." Emily answered so easily. Gaining blush from the younger.

Emily would've loved to stay in that moment, it was simple and the start of something new, but when Y/n stood there in nothing but lace panties, it was hard to stay there.

"I could be surrounded by you forever," Emily smirked before pushing the other back onto the bed. Not waiting to dive to where they both wanted her. She took a deep breath in, "you smell so sweet, do you taste this sweet?"

Y/n let out a giggle, "you could find out." She propped herself up a bit on her elbows. Finally seeing Emily between her legs, growing impossibly wetter at the sight.

Maybe it was the lighting, but the sparkle in Emily's brown eyes was enough to say she planned to. She littered a few more kisses, leading Y/n to believe that there was more teasing, but with the first swipe of her tongue, both knew how this was going to end.

It was like an instant addiction. One Emily would never get enough of and wouldn't want to try and quit. And maybe she got a little out of hand when she tore the panties right off. Causing a surprised gasp to echo in the room as she dived right back in.

The room being filled with Y/n cursing, panting, moaning, and lewd Emily's that slipped from her mouth. It had to be a crime how good she was.

"Mm..fuck Emily," her name came out broken on Y/n's tongue. Her head rolling into the comforter under her. Emily swirled around her clit, moving so smoothly.

The tightening in her stomach grew suddenly. But right as she thought she would find a release, Emily wasn't working her magic anymore. Instead, she watched as Y/n clenched around nothing before meeting her eyes. "I told you. And with how addicting you are bunny? God we're gonna have a fun time," she smirked. Her hands massaging at the pillowy thighs. "You're beautiful you know that? Anybody would be lucky to have you."

Her hands slid up to her waist. Squeezing it in her hands and humming. "You look amazing in everything as well. It would take an entire country to make you look bad. But even then, you'd still be the most beautiful." She kissed all over her stomach.

Kissing up between her boobs. Where she took notice of how ragged her breathing was. "To be able to share these moments with you, baby. I promise to never let you go. I'll make sure you're safe everyday."

Her lips pressed against her neck. Sinking into the already bruised skin and sucking. Listening to the moan. They drove her into a different dimension, she would swear on that.

Y/n choked on a gasp as two fingers slid into her, catching her once again by surprise. The burn of being stretched was tedious, but it melted into pure pleasure. "You..." she couldn't think as Emily moved her hand. Her mind drawing to a blank as her palm hit her clit as it went.

"Yes baby?"

"You...mmmph...do you mean it?"

"Every word."

Tears pricked in the corner of Y/n's eyes as the feeling drew her close again. She prayed her legs not to give her away, but they work on their own for Emily. It seems all of Y/n worked against her. They began to shake, trying to close around her hand and keep it there, but with Emily in between, it was useless.

"Please," Y/n huffed. Her back arching up off the cover. And when she was just one more thrust away, Emily was gone again. "You so suck." She panted while looking up at the white ceiling.

"Oh, is someone upset they didn't get their way?" Emily faked a pout. Leaning in close and placing a chaste kiss to her lips. "I've told you my plan."

"The working me up?! If that's the case I want to redo my reward." Y/n sat up quickly and crossed her arms.

"Oh yeah?" Emily laughed a bit, "and what is it you want now? Even if you change it all now, you're still all worked up and no release. Now who do you think is gonna give it to you?"

Y/n blinked a few times, really thinking it over. Emily was right. She was worked up twice and knew it wouldn't be the same now that she's had Emily. She pondered a little more before crossing her arms and looking away.

"Are you gonna keep pouting?" Emily tilted her head to the side. Not getting Y/n to look at her. She knew what the other was wanting, it was obvious. "You are one princess you know that?"

Y/n smirked over her shoulder. "I told you I was, remember? Right after you called me a pervert?"

"You gonna hold that over my head?"

"Till you're on your knees begging me, I will sit here and look away." Y/n looked away again. Letting the choice be up to Emily now.

And man did Emily enjoy this more than she thought. The brattiness wasn't over done and Y/n knew what she deserved. She still held more control than she let on. Emily could feel herself give in almost instantly too, but she held down for a few seconds.

Then, she pulled Y/n to the end of the bed and got down in front of her. Hands traveling up her legs and wrapping them around her own head. Emily now sat with her head between Y/n's legs and looking up to her.

She placed caring kisses to the thighs next to her. "Is this better?" Emily glanced through her lashes, meeting the others eyes.

"You're not begging." She had spoke down to her, a devious smirk pulling at her lip. "Why should I let you?"

"That's how you play?" A brief nod. A beat of silence. And a silent sigh of defeat. "Please bunny, I need to taste you again. You've denied me too long. Please, please, please, I need you." Her humorus tone disappears as as she spoke, turning into true desperation as she could smell the effect of her words.

Her hands held her thighs, her grip tightening. Y/n wasn't budging yet. She was holding out on her self just to watch Emily fall apart. "Y/n. Please. I can't wait long. Please."

Y/n gave a look, tilting her nose into the air a bit to look down. Opening her legs to give Emily access and wearing a winning smile. "That's so much better," her tone was cockier than ever. Even her moan as Emily took her first swipe again.

And even for the second time, Y/n still tasted just as addicting. She sounded even angelic with her sinful noises. Everything about her lured Emily further in. Almost loosing herself in the moment. Her mind could think of nothing other than the beauty on the bed.

"God, Y/n...." she hummed lowly. "You're just so delicious. So beautiful. So desirable." Her tongue picked up. Her thoughts of wanting to see the other fall apart becoming heavy. "Just like that baby."

Y/n gasped once more before her breath hitched in her throat. The knot in her stomach snapping without much warning. Her hand flew down to Emily's hair, nails scratching at her scalp as she rode out her high. Profanities running from her like no tomorrow.

Emily once again littered her kisses once more before coming up. Placing a kiss to Y/n's plush lips, but following as it turned into a soft make out.

"Fuck Emily." Y/n laughed. She couldn't help but to think of the moment that just happened. "You definitely had fantasies."

The silver fox shook her head with a smile, laying down and pulling the other into her. "You know how to lure someone in, it's hard not to think of you." She shrugged off her truth. "We still have the rest of the day....can I take you to dinner?"

"Aww, was I not fulfilling for you?" She joked one more time before kissing Emily. "I would very much like dinner with you. But....it looks like I was in a fight and lost..."

Emily sat up and looked down at the other. Scanning over the amount of love bruises that covered her. "That does seem like an issue, you don't have any makeup?" A shake of the head. "Well then I guess we're going on a run to get you makeup and something to cook for the night."

"We're gonna cook? Didn't you almost give someone food poising last time you cooked?" Y/n loved how the idea sounded, she was thrilled. "What'd you have in mind anyways?"

Emily let a nasty smirk take over again, and Y/n could hear the thoughts and laughed. "Something easy. Maybe pasta? Then after....who knows what'll be for desert."

The younger let out another laugh at the implied. "Fine, but I'll make it a deal. We make a video while cooking, and then I'm all yours again. But the video has to get at least 100 likes by the time we finish."

"And if it doesn't?"

Y/n let her smile grow even more, "then you get nothing."

"What?!"

A shrug was her answer, "I don't make the rules." She sighed, glancing to her bathroom. "I could go for a shower, couldn't you?"

Emily looked over to the bathroom as well, taking a second to process what was being implied. "I could, I really could!" The thought to see the woman in her arm dripping with water and soap worked her up all over again.

~

Monday had came again, and the team was back in the bullpen. Enjoying the paper work to the best they could.

Penelope however was walking at a dramatic pace to find Y/n. Eager to know about this weekend that was all over TikTok now. And she came in hot with her phone already being opened. "Y/n! Care to explain?" She shoved the phone in.

Y/n watched the cooking video, smiling at the time they had. "We spent our Saturday together. And maybe our Sunday too but that's all."

Tara laughed enough to let everyone know she was listening. "Cooking doesn't leave a mark on your neck though." She pointed out the hickey right below her ear.

The side eye she received was vicious, "I burnt myself curling my hair."

"Yeah ok," Emily walked in with a knowing smile.

Tara leaned over to JJ, "bet the curling iron was that Prentiss brand."

"All the way up to it seems," the blonde fed the joke. "And what did you cook?"

Y/n sighed, feigning hurt," you don't even follow my account? You've made like a gazillion appearances."

JJ shook her head, "I don't have TikTok. But let me guess, there was a deal within that video that only you two know about?"

Emily came back with her coffee in hand, and another for Y/n. "She didn't win."

Penelope had been standing there shock about how simple they made it seem. "So! What I'm getting is! You two?"

Emily and Y/n shared a secret conversation. Both letting an infectious smile appear, "yeah, us two." They said in union. Too busy getting lost within each other to listen to the blonde jump for joy.

[toxicanonymity]

The Raid, Part 2.

panty-dropping javi art by @bonezone44

8k words | dark!javi x f!reader x dark!steve | The Raid SUMMARY: Javi and his partner get you settled in. WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon (captivity & more), kidnapping, drugs, mild withdrawal, manhandling, sharing, degradation, praise, homoerotic tension, thigh fucking, somnophilia (javi), p in v (steve, but Javi's involved), orgasm denial, cumplay, size kink if you squint, mfm adjacent, hillbilly cock. Javi & Steve RECS: Lie Still by @milla-frenchy , Crossing Lines by @lunitawrites , Helping Hands and Polaroids by @clawdee , You can be the boss by @girlboybug . TY all!! A/N: Could've been 2 parts (4.4k/3.6k) so there's a divider (ty @cafekitsune) if you want 2 reads. Ty @debbiequinn for your sleep thot and @ghoulettesinspace for your styling thots. Tagged people who asked for part 2 at the end.

✨NEXT: Javi isn't home - Steve PWP.

The DEA has left the scene, aside from Javi and his tall, blonde partner. The partner managed to catch your (ex) boyfriend while Javi was “supervising” you. Javi has given his men a talking-to and told them you were never there.  With a strong grip on your arm, he's dragged you to a Ford Bronco where he's now forcing you into the back seat. 

"My shirt," you beg. 

Javi shrugs mercilessly. "Should've put it on before you ran." He glances at your bra before beginning to shut the car door. 

He and his partner talk outside the car. Javi stands with his hands tucked into the top of his vest. The taller man leans with one hand just above the back seat window and his other hand on his hip. He ducks down to look at you, but doesn't acknowledge you. He asks Javi, "You sure we need to be drivin' around with her half dressed?" 

"What'd I say?”

The blonde agent holds his hands up in mock defense. “No Carrillo, no questions." He walks around front to the driver's seat. You have a better view of him once he's seated. He's strong, like Javi. He has a thick mustache, too.

Javi gets in the passenger seat and puts on a voice like he's teaching a class and would rather be anywhere else. He addresses you by name, then says, "This is Steve Murphy." 

Steve nods in the rear view mirror, and your eyes meet. Then he turns on the engine and asks Javi, "safe house?" 

Javi tilts his head back and smooths his mustache. “Mm,” he contemplates.

Steve offers, "I'll head to the closest one."

Javi answers, "No. My place."

"Yours?" 

"Yeah, you know, the place I live? Right downstairs?" 

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Alright." After a few moments of silence, Steve asks, "informant?" 

"Eh," Javi ponders. "We'll see."  He puts a cigarette in his mouth, then takes the cigarette lighter out of its socket and lights up. Javi reaches down to crank the window open a little more, then exhales, aiming the smoke outside. He asks, "We need to worry about Romeo?" as he hands the cigarette to Steve. 

“Nah,” Steve replies as he accepts the cigarette. He looks at the tip of the filter and takes one puff before handing it back to Javi. Steve exhales out the window, then reaches back and puts his hand behind Javi's seat to put the car in reverse. 

"Nah,” Steve repeats. “Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that dumbass. . .Told him we'd fuck her in front of him, know what he said?”

“What?” Javi asks, bemused. 

“He said go ahead."  You’re not surprised. 

"Ouch," Javi pretends to sympathize, then looks back to check on you. "Sorry, sweetheart."

—-

Once they get you to the apartment, the first thing they do is take you to the bathroom. You have to walk through a bedroom to get there. In the middle of the bedroom, there's a bed with leather restraints. It makes your stomach turn to look at. 

Steve’s eyes fixate on it and he asks Javi, "You kept this stuff?"

Javi retorts, "Where'd you think it went, the Salvation Army?” 

Javi pauses to take off his tactical vest.  “Let’s wash that place off her.” 

“C’mon,” Steve gently urges you by the arm toward the bathroom. You go in the restroom and stand, awkwardly awaiting instructions. You lean your back against the wall and the handcuffs drag.

Steve plugs the drain and turns on the water. Javi walks in, takes out the keys and uncuffs you. Steve retires to the doorway and leans against it, tucking his hands into the top of his tactical vest and watching. He seems to take up the whole frame. 

There's a toilet next to the bathtub/shower combo. Javi closes the lid and sits down, facing you, and manspreads in his tight jeans. His shirt is stained with sweat, and the glimmer of a gold chain catches your eye on his tan chest. Javi pats his thigh closest to the tub. You sit on his thigh, facing the door and Steve. Javi strokes your face, and you look down at the floor, cheeks warm, heart racing. 

“It’s okay,” Javi tells you, “Vamos a ponerte limpia y lista para una vida nueva.” (We’re gonna get you clean and ready for a new life). He unclasps your bra and you let it fall off into your lap. Javi tosses it to Steve, saying, “Check the closet out there.” 

Javi reaches over to feel the water, then rests his large hand between your shoulder blades.  “Now take off your pants.” He gives you a gentle push out of his lap. 

You stand again and remove your pants. Javi stays seated.

You’re cowering with your arms in front of you, but Javi beckons you with a hooked finger. You come to stand between his knees. He nudges your inner elbows and you let your arms fall out of the way. 

“Good girl,” he mutters, not taking his eyes off your tits. His hands come to your chest without even a glance to your face. He lightly massages your breasts until both nipples are erect. He slots both his hands under your armpits and thumbs your nipples, then slides his palms down to your hips where he hooks his thumbs into your panties and keeps going, bringing them down to the floor. 

Steve comes back from the closet and sets some clothes on the bathroom counter. 

Javi looks over and tells him, “Keep Carillo off my back for a while.” 

Steve nods and leaves. “Hasta luego!” he shouts with an American accent on his way out. 

Javi chuckles and shakes his head. 

-

Javi eyes the water level of the tub and turns off the faucet. “How do you feel?” he asks you with kind eyes. 

“Fine,” you mutter without meeting his gaze. 

He extends his hand for you, and you hold it for balance. You dip a toe in and it’s lukewarm. “Get in.” He nods toward the bath and you do. He takes off his shoes and socks and puts them outside the door, then cuffs his jeans. 

“How’s the water?” He asks then reaches under the sink, and you watch his ass strain his pants as he gets a bath poof. 

“Uh, good.” Your answer echoes off the tile. 

He sits on the side of the tub and uses a light orange bar of soap to make some lather, then scrubs you. He holds you with one hand for leverage while he scrubs you with the other. He starts with your arms, and your neck. He's not gentle. 

“Ow,” you mutter at one point.  

“Ay, pobrecita” (poor little girl). “You're going to feel so clean,” he reassures you. He makes you lift your arms. Then each leg. The tub squeaks under you as you scoot forward. He scrubs your legs and between your thighs. He does your breasts and your back. His arm muscles flex with his effort. When he leans over you to reach your other side, his back muscles strain his shirt and his gold chain escapes from his collar, revealing a little cross on it. 

“You’re bottoming out,” he mutters. 

“Huh?”

“In life.” He pauses and makes sure you're looking at him as he explains this. “It’s a good thing. Know why?” 

You stare at him vacantly.

“Once you hit rock bottom, you go back up.” 

You look away, and your cheeks burn. You get it, he found you at a low point, he doesn’t have to rub it in. It doesn't feel great. 

Javi washes your stomach and downward. He gets close to your intimate parts, but he's clinical about it. He gets you up on your knees and scrubs your bottom. He flattens his hand and slides the side of it down your crack, making you gasp with an unexpected rush of warmth to your core. 

Your skin feels almost numb in some areas by the time he's done bathing you. Then he lathers a softer sponge and washes you more gently.  He drains the tub and takes his time lazily rinsing you. When he's finished, he turns on the shower and tells you to make sure he got it all. 

Once you’re squeaky clean, he dries you off with a pale, yellow, threadbare towel. He inspects the clothes on the counter. It’s a Hawaiian shirt much too large to be Javi’s. Some pants, too, but he only puts the Hawaiians shirt on you. You eye your underwear on the floor, but Javi bends down and snatches it up before you have the chance to collect it. 

“I’ll start some laundry,” he offers.

—. . .----

Javi makes pork and beans for dinner. While you’re eating, someone jogs up the stairs outside. “Steve’s right upstairs,” Javi tells you. “Ever need anything and I’m not here, just yell.” He takes a bite of his beans. “He’s a better cook, too,” he smiles with his eyes. 

During a quiet moment, you’re startled by the sound of a woman moaning from upstairs. You look up at the ceiling. 

[ohhhh, she whines. give it to me.]

“Just a porno,” Javi tells you with a smirk. 

“So,” He studies your face. “What did you want to be when you grew up?” 

“You make it sound like my life is over.” 

“No, there’s still time,” he shrugs. 

You refuse to answer. 

[upstairs, a man’s voice joins in. oh yeah, take it, baby.]

Javi tries, “Favorite color?” 

You don’t answer that either. 

[yeah, just like that]

“That’s okay,” he says. “We’ve got all the time in the world to get to know each other.” 

“You can't keep me here forever, if that's what you're trying to do.”

Javi’s eyebrows knit in concern. "Oh, sweetheart.” With sad eyes, he asks, “You really think someone will report you missing?" 

"I have a job," you protest. 

“Oh,” he sounds fakely impressed. “Well. . . Be a good girl, and I'll get you a better one.”

Upstairs, a deeper, clearer voice sighs, “Ohh, fuck,” making you squeeze your thighs together. That has to be Steve. It sounds like him. 

[Steve sighs and grunts over the faint sounds from the television.] 

You bite your lip and look away. 

Javi lowers his head and raises his eyebrows at you. He reaches for your face and smirks as he makes you look at him. “Like what ya hear?” Blood rushes to your face. He chuckles as he lowers his hand. 

[A long groan from Steve.]

Oh, wow. You wonder if Javi will notice the wet spot under you. You take a deep breath. When you regain your focus, he’s studying your eyes with an amused sparkle in his.  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he nods, then pats your cheek. 

“He’s a good guy,” Javi adds, then looks upward in thought. He tilts his head back and forth as though debating himself. “Kind of.” He pushes a glass of water toward you. “Drink.”

—-

When it’s time to sleep, Javi takes you to the bedroom you walked through on the way in. He watches your face as you eye the bed with its restraints. 

“You’ve been pretty good so far,” Javi muses. “Maybe we don’t need this yet.” 

“Please,” you beg. “I promise I’ll behave.” 

“How are you feeling?” he asks. 

“Fine.”

“Alright, then. I’m not sure if you’ll like the other option much better, though.” 

He brings you to his room and heads toward the closet, which rolls open with a four-panel door. you wouldn’t really mind sleeping in Javi’s bed with him, but that’s not what he has in mind. He pulls out an old futon mattress with a striped fitted blanket and throws it on the floor.  “You can choose where to sleep, how’s that?”

“Here,” you answer without hesitation and he chuckles. 

“Muy bien, pobrecita. But I *am* going to have to secure you.”  He takes his handcuffs out and cuffs one to a radiator under the window. Then, with his foot, he pushes the futon mattress over to it.  

“Really?” You ask. “I promise I’ll be good.”

“I believe you. But you need protection from yourself right now.” 

His bed has plenty of room for both of you. He’s just being an ass. 

-

Javi lets you watch television, sitting side by side with him on his sofa. He periodically looks at you skeptically, as though wondering if you’ll make a run for the door, but you don’t. It sure has been a long day. You yawn. 

“Ready for bed?” Javi asks. 

You nod. 

There’s a knock at the door. 

It’s Steve. He’s come by to drop off a couple of bags. One is from the grocery store. Javi steps into the breezeway to talk for a couple of minutes. When he comes back in, he brings the grocery bag to the table and puts the others aside. In the grocery bag, there are brand new toiletries for you, including a toothbrush. 

Javi takes you to the bathroom and watches you while you brush your teeth, then he brings one of the other shopping bags into the bedroom. There’s a nightgown. The material is thin and it’s on the shorter side. Not exactly modest. Javi puts it on you, and at least it’s more comfortable than whomever’s shirt you were wearing. 

He gives you a thin pillow and pats the mattress for you to lie down. He cuffs you to the radiator. Then he goes to another room and comes back with a blanket. He tucks you in. 

“If you need to go to the bathroom or anything, just wake me up, okay?” He moves your wrist to clank the handcuffs on the radiator in demonstration. “I hope tonight won’t be bad, but you might start to feel sick, or get chills. That’s normal okay?” 

You nod.  

He pats your head affectionately and bids you goodnight. “Sweet dreams, mi pobrecita.” He goes to the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. When he comes back in the room, you try not to watch him, but you hear him rustling around near the bed. You tilt your head up enough to steal a quick glance, and he’s taking off his shirt. He doesn’t get in his bed right away, but eventually you hear the mattress creak. 

—--

You wake up in the middle of the night feeling a little queasy, but you’re unsure if it’s the circumstances, the beans, or the detox. You can’t tell if you’re hot or cold, but this sleeping arrangement is not doing you any favors. You don’t want to wake Javi up, but the night feels like it might last forever otherwise. You rattle the cuffs against the metal. 

“Ay, pobrecita,” he whispers. “Okay, I’m coming.” He gets out of bed. 

He approaches you, barefoot. As soon as he kneels down, he mutters, “Ay, cabrón” (oh, bastard) under his breath and returns to his nightstand for the key. 

“It’s okay,” he reassures you when he comes back. He uncuffs you. As you sit up, he helps you with a warm hand on your back. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Javi responds as if he didn’t handcuff you to a radiator. 

As he helps you up from the floor, something brushes your thigh and makes you tingle. Your body knows what it is before you do. When you register what grazed your leg through his sleep shorts, your face heats up and the tingle turns into a throb. Javi walks you to his bathroom with one arm around you in case you have trouble. He takes you all the way to the toilet. “You good?” he asks. 

“Yeah, do you mind if I?”

“Sure.” He backs up into the doorframe, but he doesn’t close it. You glance over, and he’s not hiding the massive tent in his shorts. He’s not shy about it at all. He’s also not trying to do anything about it. “Alright, I’ll be right here.” He closes the door halfway and stands outside. You sit there for a few minutes on the cool tile in front of the toilet. The urge to be sick has passed. He peeks his head in to check on you. “How about some water?”

“Okay,” you nod. He comes in and helps you up, hard-on still blazing. He takes an empty, upside-down glass from his clean bathroom counter, fills it up, and hands it to you. You’re aching at the silhouette of his length just casually standing at attention. It takes all your energy not to look right at his shorts. 

“Good girl,” he gently palms the back of your head. 

You try to look anywhere but down. You focus on his bare chest. His chain drapes over his collar bone and sits above his strong, golden pecs. There’s a light smattering of dark, soft hair. And then, lower, a happy trail.  You yank your eyes away. You look at the counter: A brush, a comb. Maybe he does his mustache with that. You look at his hair. It’s messy, out of place. Bedhead looks good on him. He casually rakes his hand through it when he sees you looking. Your gaze drifts back to his body. It’s really a beautiful torso you’re looking at. Broad shoulders, strong arms, narrow waist. A hint of abs under the light padding of his flesh. 

“You okay?” he asks with his puppy dog eyes, which gives you an idea.

“Yeah.” You look up at him, widen your eyes, and let your face fall. 

He nods. “Back to bed?”

You hold your wrist as if it hurts from the cuff and nod sadly. You check his shorts in the corner of your eye–yeah, it’s still there, as commanding as ever. The tent bobs as he walks. He walks you back into the bedroom and pauses at your futon mattress on the floor. He reaches for your hand and holds it as his other thumb brushes the indentation on your wrist. 

“You’re sure you don’t want the bed?” He nods toward the other room with the restraints. 

“I’d love a bed, but no. That one’ll give me nightmares, I’m sure.” 

He nods thoughtfully. “Are you asking to sleep in *my* bed?” His thumb continues to brush the indentation from the cuffs. His light touch gives you butterflies. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him and your hand joins his, on your wrist. His thumb freezes. Your fingers rest lightly on top of his. “I guess I’m okay down there.” You glance at the mattress on the floor.  

His bare chest rises with a deep breath. “You’re being such a good girl,” he marvels with your hand on his. “Come on. It’s okay.” He guides you to his bed and pauses when you’re right in front of it. He faces you and puts his hands on your shoulders. He dips his head and his tone darkens. “But if you leave this bed, things are going to change here,” he warns. “And you’re not going to like it.” He shakes his head. The gentleness of his voice and the look on his face sends a chill down your spine. 

-

Javi gets into his bed, under the covers. He lays on his side and makes room for you, albeit not much. “I still have to restrain you,” he informs you as you lie down. “Do you want the cuffs or my arm?”

“Your arm.”

“Good girl.” He extends one arm and raises the other, making room for you.

You scoot back against him, mentally bracing yourself for what awaits under the covers. You're already twitching before you feel it. He inhales sharply as the hardness in his shorts hits you. With a hand on your lower abdomen, he pulls you into him, and his stiff length presses against you.  

“I’m sure that’s not going to bother you, is it?” he asks and your breath hitches. You shake your head just barely on the off chance he wanted a real answer. But it is, it's going to bother you as long as he won't put it in you. You’re human, you can’t help it. He’s a bad person but you can only imagine what a good lay. He curls his strong, lean body around you like a big spoon, and he nestles the warm rod in his shorts against your crack.

One bicep is under your neck. His other arm settles over your waist. You don’t need to test his strength to know his arm is solid. Heavy. There’s no escaping as long as he holds this position. 

He inhales your hair, and the hand in front of you cups your breast through your thin nightgown. He slowly palms your breast, and lightly grinds against you. You can’t help but push back on him. The shape of his arousal against you makes you salivate. 

He whispers just above your ear.  “Sure do love cock, don’t you?”

As he thrusts against you at a slow, steady rhythm, his hand slides off your breast, down your gown, sliding over your stomach and down to the fleshy triangle where your thighs meet. His hand stays flat. He doesn’t dig between your legs. He gently presses your mound, bringing you back against him harder as his cock throbs even harder against you. 

“That can be a good thing for recovery,” he offers. “You need something to replace that high.”

He thrusts against you slower, lighter. It’s excruiating. “Mmm.” He begins to gather the nightgown’s fabric into a fist, raising the hem of the gown and exposing more of you to the air between the sheets. No underwear. 

His hand rests on the bare skin of your lower abdomen, then slides down just low enough that his middle finger can tease your most sensitive place. He slides further down until his middle finger reaches the pool between your legs and he growls almost silently. He begins to move his fingers between your legs. Slowly, expertly, leaving his thumb and pinky braced on your front. The movement is just enough to drive you crazy. His index and middle fingers slide through your dripping folds and apply pressure to your swollen bud, moving to the rhythm of his gentle thrusts against your crack. 

“Mm,” your moan is barely audible.

“Ohh, I know,” Javi coos reassuringly. “I know.” He ruts against you slowly. He sighs as he moves against you. The heft of his arousal pushing against both asscheeks makes you weak. If only he’d just stuff your pussy. You can hardly stand it. He must feel you gush on his fingers. “Oh, yeah,” he whispers into your hair. His throbbing erection grinds against you. His hand leaves your cunt and you feel cold, exposed. He pulls down the waistband of his shorts, then his hand–wet fingers and all–slightly lifts your thigh, making your heart skip a beat. 

He wedges his naked cock between your thighs, right against your cunt, and you gasp. His swollen tip glides through your wetness and you moan, “Ohh.” He slowly slides forward and back through the warm, wet pocket made by your thighs and cunt. You push back against him. “Mm,” he grunts softly as his tip reaches your clit. 

His hand returns to your breast. He massages your breast as his cock keeps sliding between your thighs and nudging your sensitive bud just right. “Javi,” you whisper. “Please.” His cock hesitates at your entrance, and you tilt your hips. 

“Not today, sweetheart.” 

With a small thrust, he bypasses your wet little hole again. 

Then he stops moving. You push your ass back into him, and he does nothing but tighten his arm over you. He cradles your breast gently. You’re throbbing, aching to have him inside you. It feels like an eternity you’re lying like this with his arousal throbbing against your naked heat. You begin to feel a chill again and reach for the blanket to wrap yourself tighter. He helps you, then murmurs. “Good night”  into your hair. 

The comfort of his arms and rhythm of his breath lulls you to sleep sooner than you expect. 

—-...------

Just after daybreak, you awake to the sound of Javi breathing heavily  as his cock slides against your wet cunt again. Your chest is hot and fluttering. He’s aggressively groping one breast, then shifts to the other with a grunt and harsh thrust. Your body shifts as you wake up. He pants, “Morning sunshine,” and you push your ass back against him. 

“Was I good?” you ask. 

“Ohh,” he moans, “You were good.” 

His hand comes between your legs and you gasp at the pressure of his thick fingers on your clit. He doesn’t move them, just rests his hand there, then asks “Would you like to cum?”

You nod, “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please,” you whine as his cock glides against you. 

He slows way down. “Because I’m only giving you one today. You sure you want it already?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. 

“It’s not even seven a.m.”

“Please, Javi.” 

He begins to move his thick fingers, and it doesn’t take long at all before you’re seeing stars. 

“Ohh,” you moan as the waves of pleasure begin to overtake you. Your body spasms, and your walls clench around nothing. 

“Mmmm, mi putita. . .por supuesto ahorita” (My little slut. Of course right now), Javi purrs into your hair. “That’s the–ohhh–thing with addicts,” he pants as he chases his own orgasm. “You want everything right–mmm—now–ohhhh.” As Javi begins to cum, he moves his hand from your clit to his cock. His cock pulses against you, and it’s too easy to imagine it inside you. He cups his hand and seals it over his tip and your front. He slowly thrusts as he cums. He slides against you, coating your folds and clit with his warm spend as your own climax fades. 

When Javi is empty, he withdraws his cock, but keeps his hand in place. He rubs his spend over your oversensitive parts, making you flinch and moan. 

“Ohh, I know it sweetheart.”

A thick digit breaches your entrance, pushing some cum into you, and he sighs.

“One day, pobrecita. One day.” He adds another finger. “Voy a llenar esta concha con leche” (I’m gonna fill this pastry/cunt with milk/cum).

Your first morning waking up at Javi’s place, he lets you sit at the kitchen counter and watch him make huevos rancheros and cactus. 

Over breakfast, he asks, “What do you like to do?”

You shrug.

“Because getting high replaced all your hobbies,” he concludes. 

“That's not true.”

“It's not? Then what do you do? Draw? Write? Do you read?”

You scoff. “Yes, I read,” you say with an eye roll and can’t help but add, “Did kidnapping replace all your hobbies?” 

There's an instant surge of regret in your chest, but Javi chuckles and lets it slide. “What kind of books? I could pick one up for you.”

You swallow, rest your fork, and ask, “really?” 

“Sure,” He nods. 

“Okay. Maybe a mystery,” you offer, only because you know you'll need the distraction.

“Good,” he nods. “A mystery.”

Later that day, Javi has to go into the office. He leaves a glass of water for you, a bucket just in case, and he cuffs you to the radiator. He reassures you Steve will come check on you as soon as he gets home. You try your best to get comfortable on the futon mattress. 

As soon as Javi leaves, things go somewhat downhill. You have a headache, then your stomach begins to bother you, and the handcuffs are driving you crazy. You’re anxious. You're horny. You’re cold. Why are you horny? After about an hour, you rattle the cuffs on the radiator. When nothing happens, you yell for Steve, then hear movement upstairs. 

When Steve comes into Javi’s apartment, you hear him open the door, but it doesn’t sound like it shuts all the way. His footsteps are loud as they approach through the living room. Steve unlocks Javi’s bedroom and pauses in the doorframe. “There she is.” He rests his hands on the top of the doorframe and leans forward, stretching his back as he takes in the scene. “Damn,” he mutters. “You alright?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“Yeah, darlin’.” He digs into Javi’s nightstand for the key. “Hold on.” He comes over and crouches down on the floor. He smells like cigarettes, and he must smoke the same brand as Javi. 

You're mildly surprised by the way your body reacts to Steve’s proximity. You squeeze your legs together, self conscious that you’re gushing. The day before, you were so focused on Javi that you didn’t think much of Steve at the time. But after overhearing him jack off. . .There’s something about hearing a man make those primal noises. It changes his whole face, his whole presence in your eyes. 

“C’mere,” Steve offers and extends his massive hands, looming over you. You sit up on your knees, careful not to expose yourself with no panties. He slots his hands under your arms and helps you to your feet. He checks you out and raises an eyebrow. You wonder if he can see through your nightgown. “He’s still got ya in your PJs, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s alright.” 

“Looks good on ya, anyway.” 

Steve ushers you to the restroom and waits outside. You’re starting to feel a little better already, just having someone around again. His presence distracts your body from its woes.

-

When you’re out of the restroom, Steve asks if you need anything else. You ask for a glass of juice. He brings you to the kitchen to get some. The sound of children playing outside echoes from the breezeway and you notice the door isn’t shut flush. Before you can really think about it, you begin to walk toward the door, heart pounding. You’re barefoot, and realistically, you’re not going to try to flee, but you want to know you could. You’re not running, you’re walking slowly, curiously as though pulled by a weak magnet toward a chance at freedom. 

Steve crosses the room in two strides and steps right into your path. His massive arm wraps around you, halting you dead in your tracks. “Wouldn't do that.” His face is stone. Instinctively, you begin to struggle, not to escape, but to get out of his strong grip. His body overwhelms yours.  

His arm tightens, and you whine, “Ow.” 

He shakes you once, then loosens his grip. He brings his mouth to your hair and lowers his voice.  “Don't make me hurt ya, sugar.” He wraps his arm around your middle and begins to drag you toward the bedroom with the creepy bed. He wrangles you over to the bed with the straps. You don’t resist much, but he’s rough with you anyway. 

“Okay, okay,” you tell him. “I’m sorry.” 

He throws you down on the bed and pins you with his weight, then begins to strap you in, limb by limb. Your heart is racing. But you don’t feel sick at all anymore. All you feel is the rush. 

“Ya know, I should tell Agent Peña ‘bout this,” Steve mutters as he buckles your wrist. 

“No, don’t. Tell him I was good. Please. I wasn’t trying to do anything.” 

“Yeah, alright. We’ll see.” The bed is probably full sized. Wider than a twin. The leg restraints are spaced out enough that you feel like you’re spread eagle. 

Once you’re all strapped down, Steve slowly paces next to the bed looking at you like a piece of meat. 

He asks, “True you were beggin’ for cock?”

“No,” you answer as a gut reaction. 

“Ya weren't? Huh. Peña’s a liar?” 

“He–he got me all worked up on purpose.”

Steve freezes near the foot of the bed and cracks a smile. “So it is true. . .Hmm.” He tilts his head contemplatively.  “How'd he do that? Get ya all worked up.” He dangles his fingers to graze your bare ankle. Then he walks back up toward your head, dragging his fingertips over your shin. His fingers lightly circles your kneec twice, then continue up your thigh. He pauses and strokes an abstract pattern on your inner thigh. 

You don’t answer him. You don’t have to. He’s already having an effect on you. 

“Well, don't worry. I'm not gonna hold out on ya. Want somethin’ from me, sugar? Just ask.” 

“Thanks.”

“It's ok, baby.” He lowers his voice. “Really don't mind one bit.” He looks at you hungrily and wets his lips. His fingers get closer and closer to the apex of your thighs. When his fingers graze your outer lip, he peeks under the gown. “He left the door open for me. That was nice,” Steve smiles. “Said ya got a gorgeous pussy, too.”  Your legs tense, and his hand returns to your thigh. “Nothin’ to be afraid of, darlin’.” 

The leather that’s holding you down is what scares you. It’s the most unsettling feeling. 

Steve adjusts himself, and when you follow his hand, you can't pull your eyes away from the bulge in his pants. Wow. He doesn't wear his pants nearly as tight on his ass as Javi, so you hadn't even thought about Steve’s dick. Now it's all you can think about. You're studying the shape his pants are struggling to contain. Never would’ve thought. And, balls. You’re pretty sure he’s got big balls. You wet your lips and realize you're staring. 

“Attagirl,” he mutters. “See, that's where my partner and I have different philosophies,” Steve explains. “I could care less if you're drunk, high, outta your mind.”  The hand on your thigh slides all the way up to where your thigh meets your torso. “Good pussy’s good pussy.” He traces the crease, right next to your outer lips, and his light touch makes you tingle. “I think a pretty girl deserves all the dick she wants.” He sighs, then raises his eyebrows. “And then some,” he says with a short nod. 

“His heart’s in the right place,” Steve says unconvincingly. “Hurts though, don’t it?” He pouts at you as he keeps tracing the crease of your inner thigh. “Never met a whore he didn’t fuck. . .n’ can’t be bothered to give ya just an inch.

He follows your eyes back to his crotch and chuckles darkly. “Boy, you got your eye on the prize, don't ya?” He looks down at himself. 

“Mmm,” he grunts when he meets your eyes again. The humor is gone from his face.

He looks at the leather strap around your arm. “I’ll take mercy on ya,” he mutters and takes his hand out from between your legs. He pauses with his hands on the strap.  “Gonna be good for me?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

He unbuckles the strap. The metal of the buckle flicks against your inner arm. You don’t move your arm, making good on your promise to be good. Then the mattress creaks and groans as he gets up on the bed with you. He straddles one of your knees and leans forward, bracing his right hand on the mattress near your torso. His left hand returns between your legs. This time, he goes straight for your cunt. He smiles when he feels how wet you are. He lightly rubs you, teasing your dripping folds up and down. He falls into a trance. He gathers your slick and brings it to your clit. He scoots up on the bed so his head is above yours and his crotch is at your hip. He looks into your eyes as he circles your most sensitive spot. A knot is already forming in your stomach, making your pelvis lift into his hand. He wets his bottom lip, then bites it as he adds more pressure. Then speed. Your mouth falls open and a moan slips out. 

His lips form a small ‘o’. “Ooh,” he marvels. “Oh, you’re a real sweet thing, I can tell.” His fingertips slide down, and one of them teases your entrance, making an audible, rhythmic smacking sound.  Then he slowly pushes the finger inside. His eyes roll up toward the ceiling, and his head tilts up too. You watch his neck veins. There’s some faded tattoo ink barely visible on his chest, poking up from his collar when the angle is right. He presses his hard bulge against your hip and you gasp with a bolt of arousal.

“Yeah,” he whispers, and you moan. “Yeah, ya want that, don’t ya?” He gives you another slow thrust against the hip.  “You want it right here.” He pushes another finger into you. “Ohh, yeah.” His upper palm massages your clit as his fingers pump into you.

“You’ll get it, don’t worry.” You twitch at the thought. “But you’re gonna cum on these fingers first. Hear me?”

You nod and take a deep breath. Your back arches. You reach for his pants. 

“There ya go,” he nods as if that’s why he unbuckled you in the first place. “Ohh, you’re gonna go wild.” 

You grab his bulge–it’s more than a handful–and massage him through his pants. 

“Mmm. Yeah,” he whispers. Your nipples harden with his practiced touch, and you sigh, unable to take any more tension. His fingers curl inside you and he whispers, “C’mon, now.” The deep whisper is enough. 

“Ohh,” you moan. He nods in encouragement and his upper palm bears down on your clit. You close your eyes and let yourself unravel. Your spasming walls squeeze and soak his fingers. 

“Yeahh, attagirl.”  

As your climax fades, he withdraws his fingers and feverishly unbuckles his belt. You throb in anticipation. It won't take much to tease another one out of you. Your core twitches as he shoves down his briefs and his thick cock springs free, taking your breath away. He gets between your legs and holds his stiff manhood loosely as he lines himself up. He shakes it heavily up and down, teasing your clit with the head of his cock. Oh, God it feels so–you’re already about to–

–Steve hesitates.  

In the driveway, a car pulls up and stops. 

Steve stops what he’s doing. “Alright, let's see what the boss wants,” he says with an air of inconvenience as he tucks his erection into his briefs.

“Thought you were partners,” you say and hope you don't sound too disappointed. 

“On paper, sure. “ He buttons and zips up his pants. “On paper I'm a good cop, too,” he winks. 

Steve pats your cheek and says, “hang in there.” He gets off the bed, then leans in close and whispers, “give it to ya next chance I get. . .skip the preamble, how's that?” 

You bite your lip. Just as the front door begins to unlock, Steve sits down in a chair next to the bed, with his hands clasped in his lap. 

—--

Javi opens the door. 

“All good at the office?” Steve asks. 

“All good,” Javi reports, and he surveys you with his eyes as he approaches. “What’s going on here?” 

“Oh, she just wanted a change of scenery,” Steve reports, mercifully. Javi looks at him skeptically for a moment, then shrugs it off. 

“How are you feeling?” Javi asks you with a hand on his hip and a serious look. He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you and Steve, who’s on the same side. 

“Okay,” you reply. 

Javi clenches his jaw and furrows his brow. His hand frames your jaw and he looks at your eyes. Then he lets go of you.

"Good," Javi nods. Then squints and asks, "He touch you?"

You look at Steve. Steve raises his eyebrows curiously. He doesn't deny touching you, but his face also doesn't give you any clues about the right answer. He’s sitting in amused suspense. Javi raises his eyebrows at you like a challenge, waiting on you to speak. You look at Steve again, and Steve winks. Unsure what it means, you begin to slowly shake your head no.

Javi clenches his jaw and his eyes narrow. His head whips to Steve and he asks, "Why not?" 

Steve sighs and uncrosses his arms. He extends his hand to Javi. Javi brings Steve's hand to his nose, takes a whiff of his fingers, and cracks a smile.  "Don't lie to me, putita." Javi closes his eyes, draws in your scent again, then opens his eyes and mouth as he brings Steve's middle and index fingers to his lips. Javi locks eyes with you as he tastes you on Steve's fingers. Your heart races. You failed whatever test this was. 

Javi drops Steve's hand and brings his own hand to cup your jaw. "Pobrecita. . ." His hand dwarfs your face. "What’s the matter? Te confunde?” (It confuses you)

You nod, and your voice is small.  "You said it's yours." 

"What's mine?"

You look down at yourself and swallow. "My body?"

Javi nods. "Say it." 

Your eyes settle on what you can see of his gold chain under his shirt.  "This pussy is yours." 

"That's right," Javi nods condescendingly. "Good girl."  He brings his hand from your cheek to your thigh and squeezes it. He nods toward Steve and says, "con mi permiso" (with my permission).  "Still confused?" 

You shake your head. 

“That's all he did? Touch you?”

“Yeah,” you nod. 

Javi addresses Steve. "Alright, c’mon.”  He beckons him, and Steve stands up with his hands still clasped in front of himself. 

“Show her your cock.”

Steve undoes his pants again. He slides them down over the bulge of his still-hard cock, then pauses. 

“Pants off,” Javi adds matter-of-factly. Steve sits back down to unlace his shoes, then takes them off. He pulls off his pants, and he's left wearing black socks and white briefs with a red and blue stripe around the waistband. Thigh muscles are massive. 

“Good news for you, putita.” Javi nods toward Steve. “This one’ll fuck anything.” Your cheeks heat up and Steve shakes his head in amusement at Javi. 

“Says the guy who has his own room at a brothel.” 

Javi looks at your body hungrily and crosses his arms. “Give it to her,” he mutters without looking at Steve. 

When Steve stands up, Javi takes his place, manspreading with his hands tucked under his arms, straining his short-sleeve button-up.

-

Steve mounts the bed again, putting himself between your legs. He pulls his briefs down under his balls, and you let out a little gasp. His cock is even more engorged than it was before. It’s so thick, and the veins are beautiful. He looks even bigger than Javi, but it might be an effect of his lighter, finer pubic hair. He braces a hand on the mattress again, hovering over you.

You glance at Javi and he's watching intently as Steve lines up his cock between your legs. The touch of his tip at your dripping hole makes you shiver in arousal and your nipples pucker. Steve smiles to himself under his mustache. He notches his tip half inside your entrance, then looks at Javi. 

Javi makes a subtle beckoning motion with one hand, and Steve begins to push into you. You gasp as his girth begins to spread you open. He pushes further, and you whimper. 

Javi scoots closer and lays a big, warm hand on your tied-down arm. You look at him and he reassures you, “You can take it, I promise.” 

Then, Steve plunges to the hilt, dividing your insides with a loud grunt. You moan and lock eyes with him as he looks up at you darkly. Your body rushes to accommodate the heft of him inside you.

“Good girl,” Javi mutters to himself with his eyes fixed where your bodies are joined. 

Steve withdraws most of his length, then Javi raises his palm in a stop motion and Steve freezes, biting his lips together. Javi stands up, and walks toward Steve for a better point of view. 

“Go,” Javi mutters, crossing his arms again. There's a bulge growing in Javi’s restrictive jeans, and he's not doing anything about it. 

Steve pushes into you again, making you moan. He pauses for only an instant before backing out again, and right away he’s pushing back in. “Fuck,” he mutters as his thick cock disappears into your hole once more. 

“How is it?” Javi asks him. “Juicy, right?”

“Nngh–yeah,” Steve answers as he brings his hips back, then slams into you harder and his balls slap against you. “Goddamn,” Steve mutters. “Tighter than ya’d think.”

“Hm,” Javi hums with a straight face, then raises his eyes to meet yours. “He's gonna break you in for me.” He looks at Steve's cock sliding out of you then at Steve's face, twisted with arousal. “Right, partner?”

“Goddamn right,” Steve breathes. He ramps up to a steady rhythm, fucking you gradually harder until the force is pushing you up on the bed. 

“Hold on,” Javi mutters and the vein on Steve's forehead swells with effort as he stops with only his tip inside. Steve wets his lips and rubs them together. Javi tightens the restraints to hold you steady. While Javi is is busy with that,  Steve rocks ever so slightly into you, moving less than an inch forward and back. It’s so subtle it could be an accident, but it must provide relief because he moans quietly. At the sound of his noise and the look of his face, you whimper and your cunt spasms once. 

“Nngh,” Steve reacts. 

“Okay,” Javi announces, then stands so he can roughly see things from Steve’s point of view again. Steve resumes with a slow, careful pace. 

Javi wets his lips as he watches your cunt swallow Steve's cock. Steve's cock pulls at your pussy each time it withdraws, and the sight seems to darken Javi’s eyes with lust. You twitch again.  

“Fuck,” Steve breathes, then looks over his shoulder “Can I?”

“Don't let her come on your cock,” Javi answers.” 

Hearing Javi talk about Steve’s cock is almost enough to do it. 

Steve sighs and looks at the ceiling, in an almost eye-roll. His arms strain his shirt. His sweat wafts toward you and makes your knees weak. He draws in a deep breath as he slowly pushes in again. 

You imagine if the situation was different, if you were just some slut they picked up at a bar, how much fun you could have with the two of them. 

You twitch around him, and he pulls out in a hurry. “Sorry darlin’,” he mumbles. He sits back on his knees and pumps himself. “Where do you want it,” he asks, staring at your body.

“Uh,” you stammer, then realize he's not asking you. 

Javi pulls the gown down under your tits. Steve strokes himself faster until his breath gets uneven. He pauses, scoots up your body to straddle your middle, then resumes.  You admire his balls as his fist slides up and down his shaft. His hand is so large, yet it doesn’t dwarf his cock. 

Steve’s eyes narrow at your tits. He pumps himself faster and his mouth drifts open until he points his cock at your chest and moans, “Ohhh—ohhhh, fuck,” painting your tits with his cum. Your nipples sharpen as the warm spend spreads. As the last of his cum dribbles out, Steve sighs. 

“Good,” Javi mutters, then comes up toward the head of the bed again. Steve tucks his softening cock away and gets off the bed. He reaches down to the floor to get a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his jeans. Then he pulls the chair toward the foot of the bed, and manspreads in his briefs to watch Javi. 

Javi dips two fingers into Steve’s cum on your chest. He spreads it around slowly. He circles each of your nipples until they’re painfully erect. 

Javi swipes up a bit of cum from between your breasts and brings his fingers to your lips. You take his thick digits into your mouth and taste the salt of Steve’s seed. Then you gently suck. Javi gets you to clean both fingers, one at a time, then he licks them himself. 

Javi brushes your temple with his thumb. “Let’s hope this is rock bottom.”

—---

Thank you so much for reading. To help with the next ones, I would love to know what you liked most about it, and your thots are welcome, too 🖤

tagging people who asked for part 2 🖤

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @ohheypedrito @weddingfairy @neobanguniberse @ladyscarlettdixon @zliteraturehoe @planet-marz1

[amxrany]

!! CHAPTER 7 / DIASOMNIA ARC SPOILERS !!

Damn we are eating a lot (Part 2):

During the battle, Baul is shooked on how Silver and Sebek are good at dealing with horses to which Sebek replies that they're part fo the equestrian club so it's a natural thing for them

Yuu and Grim were about to get attacked by an Iron Man but Lilia comes in to defend them. BUT THEN LILIA PROCEEDS TO SMACK SILVER AND SEBEK BEING ALL "This is why I hate children 😒" 😭😭😭

After the battle we reach the castle (which is the castle in the Sleeping Beauty movie) AND THEN WE SEE THE KNIGHT OF DAWN

Anyways going back to the topic, we also get Henric, who is pretty much going "Meleanor if you don't get out of that castle right now we'll invade the castle together with the Knight of Dawn" AND JESUS FUCK HIS SPRITE 💀

Yucks

It turns out the Knight of Dawn doesn't want any part of this either, cuz Henric wants Meleanor's magic orb and dragon egg (aka Malleus) since they're really precious things

Idk what's up with this chapter and their thing for turning characters into orphans cuz the Knight of Dawn is also an orphan adopted by the king 🧍‍♀️, and Henric tells him that if he can steal the orb maybe it could save the king and Leah

We then see Meleanor, WHO IS A FUCKING BADDIE SO DAMN REAL TWST YKNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE YOUR WOMEN 😍😍😍

WE ALSO SEE EGG MALLEUS AWWWW

Meleanor tells them that she was planning to take a nap with the egg but useless people interrupted that, and she refers to the egg as Malleus already 🥹. Lilia is just confused and asks how is she sure that the egg is a boy, in which Meleanor replies that a mother is always sure and knows that Malleus will grow up to be beautiful like his father, Leverne

But then she sees Sebek and Silver and makes them get down on their knees (MAAM I'LL ALSO GET DOWN ON MY KNEES FOR YOU 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️), she then goes on about how humans are weak and stuff. Lilia tries to defend them but Baul tells us about Meleanor's hatred for humans and that we might as well stay quiet

But then Lilia loses his shit as well and tries to tell Meleanor about the danger that's just waiting outside but Meleanor refuses, saying that she wants to fight because she's a mother who wants to protect egg Malleus (I swear I can't this update is making me cry 😭). So she tells everyone to escape with the egg while she fights the Knight of Dawn and we get this scene of Lilia holding on to egg Malleus

Meleanor tells them to leave but Lilia refuses. So out of anger, she zaps him which causes everyone to panic cuz he has the egg and Silver tries to stop it but Meleanor gets even more mad that she zaps him too like jesus this woman and her anger issues. Silver tries to plead with them to stop fighting because people who love each other don't fight

Meleanor replies that even if she doesn't make it, Malleus is still there. But Lilia tells her that Malleus can't hatch without the true love of a parent. BUT THEN WE GET THIS REVEAL THAT LILIA PROPOSED TO MELEANOR 200 YEARS AGO AND HE ALSO LOVED LEVERNE LIKE LILIA MELEANOR LEVERNE POLY RELATIONSHIP IS FUCKING REAL. Meleanor reassures Lilia that he will find a way to love Malleus since he also loved her and Leverne 🥹

She then summons thorns that drags Lilia and the rest away from the castle, saying her final goodbye to both Lilia and Malleus (I'm crying rn guys). Lilia tries to find a way back in to save Meleanor but Baul yells at him to calm down cuz he was still holding egg Malleus, and that Meleanor trusted them to protect the egg

Meleanor makes her appearance to the Knight of Dawn and Silver Owls, which starts another battle....

Next: Part 3

Previous: Part 1

[weebsinstash]

Suprised you havent mentioned what Val wears in episode 6(he's maybe wearing the same in ep 8?)

Like those fucking boots and the fact he's wearing a skirt makes me think he does it for easy access.....👀

I think it probably is the same outfit! I'm thinking the whole "moth shaped boob window" little black dress is like, the default one he keeps under his coat? He also has a different hat in that scene (no stripes, heart button)

Ughhh I just noticed that even though he isn't talking to or looking at her he's still engaging Gasmask Girl in the conversation or she's part of his recruitment because he has his hand on her hip like that 😩❤️ also isn't it SO diva of him that he already has forearms that become black further down but he'll still put on black gloves with this dress. I guess because his black dress shirt has sleeves and this dress doesn't and he just prefers that fashion wise? Idk

I wonder how often he prefers the pants and how often he prefers the dress? True Valentino simps know he's BEEN hoein' in these streets for a while but I'm still a little surprised they made him dressing gnc a canon thing. I wonder if in season 2 we'll ever see Angel in drag or anything since that's something he enjoys?

Just like. UGHHHH I can SEE him being such a catty bully to force Reader to dress/present themself how he wants them to look. OR he'll manipulate your insecurities and try and be your ""friend"" to get closer to you that way, helping teach you how to 'look nicer' (and some of it IS helpful stuff like say makeup or certain styling tips but 8 times outta 10 he's using you like a doll). He's complimenting you and calling you pretty and he DOES mean it but it's partially because in his mind you're already his property and thus he wants his arm candy to be nice n pretty looking their best. You two are showing up to show out at any event Val drags you along to.

Shit happens like Angel gets a text from Valentino to bring him some food "because I'm busy so chop chop babe" and Angel walks in with the grub and Val is just... sitting there, very obviously definitely not busy, and in fact, he's doing your makeup, applying your eyeliner all sing song and playful, "i swear to Lucifer, mami, if you keep tearing up and ruin all the hardwork I just did on your eyes again, Daddy's gonna have to punish yooou~" and he just glances up to Angel with the most disinterested, "oh, hey. You can set that down and go"

Anthony is over here, having a SOUL CRUSHING MORAL CRISIS, because he's wished and hoped for Valentino getting a new favorite toy FOR SO LONG, but now? Angel's deathly afraid that Val's new favorite to play with might be YOU because Valentino's over here suddenly having you spend your whole shift where you're usually serving drinks to the Overlord now instead just, sitting cuddling up to him, or sitting so close to him your sides are touching and he puts his hands on your sides and waist...

Also um. On the subject of Val's dress and episode 8 and all that can we talk about Vox having the strength to be able to dip this man and how Valentino has hands large enough they can fully wrap around Vox's thigh

Look at these evil WHORES, and the way Val stroked Vox's face, like... UGH I can just see Val making Reader cry and he forces you to look at him, stroking your cheek and cooing about how it's good he got you waterproof makeup this time so that you "can stay nice and pretty and still look so cute while you're whining like a little bitch" like seriously I definitely see Valentino and Velvette as sadistic possessive yandere who would even get off on you crying and all the Vees are seriously the best of the worst 😩❤️

[nayziiz]

Stay | LN4

Summary: A new romantic prospect puts things into perspective in the best and worst ways possible.

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Cara)

Warnings: Angst

Masterlist

CHAPTER 6

The music was louder than Cara expected when they entered the club. Maya immediately dragged Lando over to the bar to get drinks, and Max and Pietra went on a mission to find the private booth Maya had apparently arranged. Cara hung back for a minute and surveyed the scene. It wasn't her go-to place regardless of the country she found herself in. She sighed, defeated, knowing she would be spending most of her night being miserable.

Trying to make the best of it, Cara wandered over to the bar, deciding to get herself a drink. She squeezed through the crowd and managed to catch the bartender's attention, ordering a simple gin and tonic. As she waited for her drink, she couldn't help but notice Lando and Maya at the other end of the bar, Maya clinging onto Lando's arm as they laughed together.

Cara felt a pang of something she couldn't quite place—jealousy, maybe? She quickly dismissed the thought, reminding herself that she and Lando were just friends. Still, it was hard to ignore the growing discomfort she felt every time she saw them together.

“Here's your drink,” the bartender said, breaking her train of thought. She thanked him and took a sip, letting the cool liquid calm her nerves. She turned away from the bar and tried to spot Max and Pietra, hoping to find some solace in their company.

After a few minutes of searching, she finally saw Max waving her over from a corner booth. She weaved through the throng of people, grateful to finally sit down and escape the chaos for a bit. When she reached the booth, Pietra scooted over to make room for her.

“Never really been your scene, huh?” Max observed, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Not at all. But hey, at least I've got you guys to keep me company,” Cara shook her head, managing a small smile.

“Don't worry, we'll make sure you have a good time,” Pietra assured her with a pat on the shoulder.

“See, she looks so out of place,” Maya whined when she looked back at Cara. Lando followed her eyes and found Cara slowly moving towards Max and Pietra.

“Cut her some slack, she's trying,” Lando countered, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“Why do you defend her so much?” Maya asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

“Because she's one of my best friends, Maya.” Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words.

“It just feels like she's always around, and I don't get why you prioritise her so much.” Maya pouted, clearly unsatisfied with his answer. Lando took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

“Cara is important to me, just like Max, just like Pietra. We've been through a lot together. It's not about prioritising; it's about recognizing the people who genuinely care about you. You should give her a chance, get to know her better.” Lando continued. Maya rolled her eyes as she shifted closer to Lando, linking her arm through his.

“Baby, she's not like us, she doesn't fit in,”  Maya retorted, her tone dismissive.

“Like us? What does that even mean?” Lando asked, baffled by Maya's comment. “Alright, if you want to see me defensive, keep saying stuff like that.”

“Calm down, Lan. I'm just sharing my opinion,” Maya shrugged, trying to downplay the situation.

“No, you're being mean towards her, and that's not cool, Maya. She's only been nice to you,” Lando continued, his voice firm.

“Whatever, Lan. I just think you should focus more on us.” Maya rolled her eyes at him once more. Lando shook his head, feeling a growing frustration.

“It's not a competition, Maya. If you can't accept my friends, then this won't work.” Lando informed her. Maya stared at him, a mixture of anger and hurt in her eyes. “Give her a chance. You might actually like her if you got to know her.”

Maya didn't respond, instead turning her attention back to the bar. Lando sighed, knowing that this was far from over, but determined to stand by his friend.

Cara spotted Lando and Maya in an intense conversation from their reserved booth where she sat with Pietra and Max, who were also chatting away. She nudged Pietra, drawing her attention to the scene unfolding at the bar. Pietra turned to look at what Cara was indicating.

"Trouble in paradise?" Pietra asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Who knows?" Cara sighed again, feeling a pang of discomfort at the sight.

Max, picking up on the shift in conversation, turned his attention to the bar as well. "Looks like things are getting heated over there."

Cara nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "Yeah, it does."

Pietra leaned in closer to Cara. "You okay?"

Cara forced a small smile. "Yeah, just...it's been a weird night."

Max gave her a sympathetic look. "Weird how?"

Cara hesitated, glancing at Lando and Maya again. "Just...Maya's been making things a bit uncomfortable. I feel like I'm in the way."

Pietra put a reassuring hand on Cara's arm. "You know you're not in the way, right? You're part of this group, and we all want you here."

Throughout the night as the drinks flowed, Cara loosened up and even ended up on the dancefloor. She danced with some girls for a while, and then the men started approaching her. Lando ground his teeth, his jaw locked, as he watched her dance against a new man every few minutes, a goofy smile plastered on her face as she did so.

He could feel the frustration bubbling inside him, his protective instincts flaring up with each passing moment. He knew Cara was just trying to have a good time and shake off the evening's earlier discomfort, but it didn't stop the surge of jealousy and concern he felt seeing her surrounded by strangers.

Maya noticed Lando's attention was securely on Cara and nothing else the second she went on the dancefloor, so in a huff, she left the club without saying goodbye to Lando. She felt a sting of betrayal and disappointment as she pushed through the throng of people, heading for the exit. Her dramatic departure went unnoticed by Lando, who was too engrossed in his moment with Cara to see anything else.

Lando was able to contain himself until he saw another new man approach Cara. The man slid in behind her, grabbing her hips as they swayed, and pressed himself right against her. She didn't move away from him, not even when his hands travelled around to her waist and later to her butt and thighs. Lando's blood was boiling as he stood and watched.

Max, noticing Lando's agitation, nudged him. "You okay, mate?"

Lando forced a tight smile. "Yeah, just... keeping an eye on things."

Max followed his gaze to where Cara was dancing, understanding dawning on his face. "She's just having fun, man. Let her enjoy herself."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. It's just hard to watch."

Pietra, joining the conversation, leaned in. "Maybe you should go dance with her?"

Lando hesitated. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

Pietra gave him an encouraging smile. "It might be exactly what she needs. Besides, it's clear you're not happy just standing here."

He walked through the crowd to where she was. The man dancing with her had disappeared, and Lando took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her waist from behind to see what her reaction would be. Instead of pushing his hands away, she rested her hands on his and intertwined her fingers with his. She pressed her body against his and swayed to the beat of the music. She rested the back of her head against his chest and turned her head slightly so she could just, ever so slightly, brush the tip of her icy nose against the skin of his neck.

“You know it's me, right?” Lando asked, his voice soft yet tinged with a hint of amusement.

“Uh-huh,” she hummed, warm from both the alcohol and by Lando’s sudden presence behind her.

“I thought I'd join you,” he replied, trying to keep his tone light. “Looks like you're having fun.”

"I am. But I wouldn't mind a familiar face to dance with,” she admitted, a slight flush to her cheeks. 

“Well, here I am.” He grinned, relieved.

Lando and Cara continued to dance, their laughter and movements synchronised. The energy between them was palpable, drawing a few curious glances from onlookers but mostly just blending into the vibrant, carefree atmosphere of the dancefloor. Max and Pietra, seated in the booth, observed the scene with satisfaction.

“Looks like they’re finally letting their feelings take control,” Max commented, leaning back with a contented smile. Pietra nodded.

“It's about time. They both needed this.” Pietra agreed, hinting at all of the months and trips they spent watching Lando and Cara dance around each other and their feelings.

After their night at the club, the unexpected intimacy they shared on the dance floor lingering in their minds, Cara and Lando found themselves back at the apartment. The atmosphere was filled with a mixture of awkwardness and anticipation, as both of them tried to process the shift in their relationship. They had reversed roles for the evening: Lando took the couch, and Cara took his bed.

Cara lay in Lando's bed, surrounded by the scent of him that clung to the sheets and pillows. She turned over and buried her face into his pillow, breathing in deeply. His scent was comforting, but without him being close, it felt suffocating and incomplete. The bed felt enormous and empty without his presence. It was cold. Too cold. She pulled the blankets tighter around herself, trying to find some semblance of warmth, but it was no use. The events of the night replayed in her mind, especially the moment on the dance floor when she had felt so safe and connected in his arms.

In the living room, Lando tossed and turned on the couch. The cushions felt foreign and uncomfortable, a far cry from the familiarity of his bed. The eerie loneliness of the room gnawed at him, amplified by the silence of the early morning hours. He stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts consumed by the feel of touch and the way she had fit so perfectly in his arms. He couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that filled the room without her presence nearby.

Both of them were restless, struggling to find comfort in their new sleeping arrangements. The distance between them felt greater than the physical space that separated the couch from the bedroom. They were both acutely aware of each other's absence, and it weighed heavily on their hearts.

His bedroom door creaked open, and Cara stood leaning against the doorframe, watching Lando toss from one side of the couch to the other. The sight of him struggling to find comfort tugged at her heart. She could see the unease etched on his face, and it mirrored her own feelings of restlessness.

“Not comfortable?” she whispered as she approached him, halting his movements.

“Something like that,” he admitted, sitting back with a sigh. He looked despondent, the weight of the night’s events clearly still on his mind. Cara took a seat beside him, their shoulders brushing. “Why are you still up?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” she confessed, pulling her sweatshirt’s sleeves over her hands. The fabric provided a small comfort against the cold, but it did nothing to quell the chill she felt inside.

Lando sat there, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a caged bird desperate for freedom. His mind raced, a flurry of doubts and uncertainties clouding his judgement. Was this the right moment? Would she think he was being too forward? A myriad of questions bombarded his thoughts, threatening to drown out the faint whisper of courage that urged him forward.

Yet, amidst the chaos of his mind, there was a flicker of something different—an ember of spontaneity and daring that dared to defy his apprehensions. It was that tiny spark that propelled him forward, urging him to take a leap of faith into the unknown. For a brief moment, he hesitated, his lips parting as if to speak, only to falter at the brink of uncertainty.

But then, with a surge of determination, he silenced his doubts and let his words spill forth into the space between them.

"Fancy a cuddle?" he suggested, the words hanging in the air like a delicate promise waiting to be fulfilled.

In that instant, time seemed to stand still, the world holding its breath as they stood on the precipice of possibility. Would she laugh it off, dismissing his offer with a gentle smile? Or would she embrace the spontaneity of the moment, taking his hand and diving headfirst into the unknown?

As the blush bloomed across her cheeks, Lando felt a surge of anticipation mingled with a hint of vulnerability. He watched her, his heart pounding in his chest, wondering what her response would be. For a moment, she seemed to retreat within herself, her gaze flickering away from his as if grappling with an inner turmoil.

Then, just as he began to fear that his suggestion had been too bold, she surprised him. With a deep breath, she rose from her seat, her hand extended towards him in a silent invitation. It was a gesture filled with a quiet determination, a silent affirmation of trust and curiosity.

Lando felt a rush of relief flood through him as he accepted her hand, letting her lead him back to his room. The air between them crackled with anticipation, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging heavy in the space around them.

Once inside, he closed the door behind them, the sound echoing softly in the silence. He watched as she made herself comfortable under the covers, her movements graceful yet tinged with a hint of uncertainty. It was a simple act, yet it spoke volumes—a silent agreement to embrace the intimacy of the moment, to explore the connection that pulsed between them.

As Lando slipped out of his shirt, the fabric falling away to reveal the contours of his frame, it felt like shedding a layer of inhibition, a symbolic gesture of vulnerability and intimacy. It was a routine he had grown accustomed to, a small act of comfort and familiarity in the quiet moments before sleep claimed him.

With a silent grace, he joined her beneath the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning them in a world of their own making. And as he settled beside her, he felt a sense of rightness wash over him—a feeling of belonging that transcended words or explanations.

She welcomed him into her embrace with a natural ease, her body fitting against his like two pieces of a puzzle finally finding their perfect match. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of her breath against his neck, a soothing rhythm that lulled him into a state of contentment.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close, relishing the sensation of her skin against his own. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes—an unspoken promise of protection and comfort, a silent declaration of love and devotion.

With her hand resting on her exposed stomach, he felt a surge of tenderness well up within him.

“Tell me something nobody else knows about you,” Lando quipped in an attempt to distract himself from the feeling of her body against his.

“I am absolutely terrible at skiing,” she whispered with a small chuckle.

“Is that why you didn’t come to Finland with us?” he realised.

“Partly, yeah,” she chuckled. “I did have to work, too.”

“I can teach you, you know, how to ski,” he offered.

“You’d be teaching a wall how to walk, not going to happen,” she countered.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m a great teacher. Just look at how great you are now at karting,” Lando teased with a knowingly smile.

“Alright, fair enough,” she conceded, chuckling slightly at his cockiness.

The excitement of their banter dissipated into the tranquil embrace of the night as she nestled her head into the curve of his neck once more. Her breath, warm yet tinged with a hint of chill, ghosted across his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

Lando's fingers traced gentle patterns over her arm, the warmth of her touch a soothing balm against the tumultuous currents of his thoughts. He tried to coax himself into a state of sleep, to let the gentle rhythm of their breaths lull him into oblivion. But amidst the quiet darkness, the desire that simmered beneath the surface refused to be ignored.

With each passing moment, the urge to lean in and capture her lips in a tender kiss grew stronger, a silent plea that echoed in the depths of his soul. He turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting hers in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window.

Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, a wordless conversation that spoke volumes of unspoken desires and hidden truths. In that fleeting moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of them suspended in the timeless embrace of the night.

“I really want to kiss you,” he confessed, his voice so soft it was barely a whisper.

“Okay,” she mimicked his tone and volume, her breath warm against his skin.

With a tender reverence, Lando cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across her skin. He leaned in, closing the small distance between them, and gently pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was soft and delicate, a gentle caress that spoke of all the unspoken words and feelings they had shared.

For the first time in a very long time, Lando felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach—the good kind that signalled something special, something real. It wasn’t a hungry or desperate kiss, but one filled with sweetness and tenderness, a reflection of how he felt about her.

When he finally pulled away, he watched her eyes remain closed, her face serene as she absorbed every moment of the lingering sensation. A smile curved her lips, and in that moment, Lando knew that this simple kiss had sealed something profound between them.

They spent the rest of the night wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy, gazing at each other with a mixture of wonder and contentment. The world outside their little bubble seemed to fade away, leaving only the soft glow of the moonlight and the quiet whispers of their shared breaths.

With tender curiosity, they traced invisible shapes into each other’s skin, their fingertips leaving trails of warmth and affection. Each touch was a silent declaration, a wordless conversation that spoke of their growing closeness and the trust they had built.

Her fingers played gently with his hair, twirling soft strands between her fingertips, while he marvelled at the delicate way she moved. In return, his hand found its way to her hair, smoothing it back from her face with a tenderness that made her heart flutter.

As the night wore on, their words grew softer, their touches slower, each moment drawing them deeper into the embrace of sleep. The rhythm of their breaths synchronised, creating a soothing lullaby that carried them towards slumber.

Finally, with their bodies entwined and hearts beating in unison, they drifted off to sleep, each wrapped in the comfort of the other’s presence. And as they slipped into dreams, the night held them close, a silent witness to the beginning of something beautiful and enduring.

[pensbridge]

This is going to be my only post I ever do THIS. It needs to be said (if even only for me). Be warned. (& I'm totally being a little funny & unserious with my words, but I also mean it). but really I just need to be so silly for a moment..

I've been in some fandoms and every fandom goes through this, but...There's no fandom on earth that quite literally walked in with no changes to the picture of the Community meme like the Bridgerton fandom. yayyy! we made history again We are the exact same picture, because it wasn't that bad! I can nearly guarantee you, people noticed the quality change, but it literally wasn't bad like you say! Some of us truly stumbled in here like wtf, and still haven't gotten the answer. Stumbling into Part 1..was stressful, but Part 2 was actual insanity!

like, I honestly don't think some people watched it all the way (i saw something about ppl finishing in 2 hours)! If they even went back, who knows?! But the takes are just literal fables!

I actually think the blind trolls coming back from the dead & thin air for part 1 have deluded some of you into thinking that part 1 was bad (it wasn't; it was good), and as a result made you think that part 2 was worse than it is. I totally respect your differing opinion, but you're wrong!

There are 2 real "issues" with this season and the other stuff is artificial grass.

#1 The lack of happy couple moments that get replaced by boring side plots (part 1 was actually enjoyable to me, but this one I actually almost fell asleep watching Benedict before I was awoken by his bi awakening). But to be frank, it's always been an ensemble, and I find it funny that people forget: People bitched about polin season 2; they bitched about Penelope since season 1.

The fact that they don't get a full episode 8 of being happy in love was criminal (but i will admit my wrong expectation, because this is Bridgerton (what else is there to expect, lol). However they are cute! Naysayers, deny it all you want, but they are literally perfect! They are literally a cute engaged couple, the moms including Lady Danbury cannot help but squeal over them, and the only thing holding them back is that this conflict is seemingly dragged on, BUT it doesn't even go on long! (perhaps it felt that way because there were only 4 in this batch of eps). And I get you can be upset, but stop the bullshit because "WE WERE ROBBED." You are lyyyyinnnnnggggg.

He finds out in 6! Anthony was with her sister for 6 eps ... Simon....avoided her til she had to make the move at the end. If we're including Queen Charlotte, George got the most cohesive story, but we'll chalk that priviledge up to the fact that he got only 6 eps; and also don't lie, the recycle-rinse-repeat episode was boring(!!!!) minus the last scene & the visitation of his trauma (u can disagree w/this, but I was bored the first time watching and didn't ask for the copy & paste same episode).

#2 is the pacing (really the last 1⅓-ish episodes is the problem)- because I wish they made up by the end of 7, which is really more of the same of what I said about them being happier in the final one. However, (which brings me to my point) if they'd shifted him finding out earlier... (again they only had 1 episode prior to do this in (because there was no way it was happening in part 1 even if the 2 part split never existed), ...it could have fixed most likely all of this: if everything was moved up an episode (+ they switched Cressida's reveal + Colin finding out), they'd be fighting in 7 but united for Cressida's lie, then they'd make up by the end, and they wouldn't still be struggling with differences between them in the first part of episode 8 at all, thus there would be the happy couple moments from my point #1.

And I newly realized how this aspect of polin's season arc compares to the others. The conflicts of the other 2 seasons have been more heavily external obstacles preventing them from really getting together, while visiting some internal demons later after the drama; but this season is pretty much just them with internal conflict between them (if not for all of part 1 then for the entirety of part 2! (i personally think that the Debling stuff is less love-trianglry than what they've done in the past & fr he is in 2 eps really and not even fully courting her for majority of it)! Enemies to lovers does have internal conflict between them in the beginning, but it's not something actually between them that's "preventing" them from riding into the sunset (other than fake fighting like they hate each lol i say w/love 4 the characters & E2L). But since Colin and Pen's conflict is actually her (Whistledown) it maybe feels like they are more at odds than what is truly going on under the surface. Because they are established to love each other already unlike the other couples, who you are seeing the journey and getting to the end. While Part 2, you are seeing the unraveling of an established couple even though the love is there and the only important reason you need to get how they can work it out. We won on complexity and realness harder than the people w/bad takes can fathom, they have to make stuff up!

The other (kind of related for some) stuff:

The sex scenes: I get it! They lied (lol)! I hope we get them! But we know why it's lacking; they're deleted scenes; they exist! But the carriage scene - HOT. The mirror - HOT. The 30 second scene (lol) - HOT. But again: K*nthony got 2 spicy scenes their season! S*phne got a montage but it kind of sucked looking back (i'm not seriously hating but you know that it was too much, literally even then i think ppl knew) but plz don't start the ship discourse again & PLZ DO BE LOUD ABOUT THESE SCENES THO, I NEED THEM (lol)

But the love confession.....sssssssss. There were so many!!! *that book one is not good, i'm sorry (i'm being lighthearted here; you can disagree w/it but I do kind of hatttte it!)

"They didn't include..." don't know if you know but the writers make the story. Their story is not the book. You knew what you jumped into. (you can be sad but..) [i am not touching the conversation on Fran. But if we're really being real that side shouldn't wanna be grouped w/the side of The Departeds who are forever the head of online harrassers....by - now causing official pages to disable their comments (you don't have to tell me it wasn't all of you. I know 😔). it's actually kind of funny how I did not know like 95% of the actual discourse those first couple days (and there's a lot of discourse to see). but, anyway my main concern this whole post are my top 2 mcs. [ps the Departeds I meant traveling; i'm not that mean]

The misinterpretation of Colin: if you hate him, then go away! Thnx 4 the record-breaking views!

The baby? Cheers to 2 years in the future w/baby No Name! *lol* I'm not gonna say you shouldn't be upset about the name. For me, it was fine, because I knew they'd be back for s4. Also, preparation guys, I doubt we will even see the child that much if Daphne is any indication.

This show has never been comparable to your favorite Oscar-worthy film (literally obviously!), but the show is not terrible like some very widely popular of what's out there (and i'm not even talking about bad shows that everyone knows are bad). There is some depth to the characters and some ingrained-trauma to living in a male-dominated society with no autonomy, and traumas to the men as well. Re: the choices and drama every season. It's... a drama show! People need to go re-read the fantasy books if they want happy, lack of conflict all the time (and men yanking their wives by the wrists)... Go read fanfic if you don't like the show and a certain couple. Bridgerton is escapism and in some crazy overtaking of loud voices in the fandom, this fandom has been one of the least escap-ist fandoms ever. Because people will be like "*suspending my disbelief*" every 2 secs, but ...babe that's not doing what you just said. There's embellished "Based on a True Story" documentary fans that do this better than you tbh (i'm being a lil funny here, but honestly)

And I simply need to say this, regardless that it won't change, I need the acknowledgment jokes and the mental cleanse. if u don't want to read × The fandom...bro. I'm not even upset, I actually laughed at some of this - like, there's 3 types of people:

#1 offended people responding to op posts, because they don't like what they said; lol, the hypocrisy! The amount of people in my comments in this past month alone if I said something positive...abt the show, abt the characters...anything (new posts, old post) is more hatred than ever ever. The good polin fans are sensitive, but any and every bad typists in the comments are so easily offended...over positivity. Why.are.you.bitter?

"I'm bitter cause.." I literally don't care

#2 people reblogging things they hate to say what they hate. thnx for the notes??? bro, some comments on other ppl's gifs (rants on what they didn't like, crying abt a character/why they hate a character, and sometimes it has nothing to do with the scene gifed).

#3 "I'm allowed to be upset." why are you fighting for this? You can! Go in peace. Some people had no issues with what you say, but you are fighting this because you are determined to make people agree with your negativity no less. If you cared about the courtesy (i know that you don't) you'd let some ppl bask in what they weren't disappointed in & were excited to end the journey with (*and i expect nothing from the haters, but some of this was coming from inside the house lol). The reason you were wrong for this is because YOU WERE WRONG! There are ppl that liked it. You have no control; I get it. dw i'm sure you'll be fine.

Anyway, if anyone even read this far, you rock 4 that. If you got it, we're healing from this dumpster fire together; and if this even made 1 person laugh or feel better, it's worth it. I'm actually good now but it was rough that first stepping into the chaos and I had so many thoughts at first, so i wrote a lot from the initial shock those moments, [and now i'm in the laughing about this bullshit phase] so if u get it u get it (and can maybe have a chuckle) >>> This is literally just your neighborly (if ur nice here) joke!post *we're laughing thru the pain* / w/e to you (if you're not because i need to & this stuff isn't new & that one goes for all divisions of the fandom not just the main contented one of this post)

[chloecherrysip]

it has been days and i haven't seen ANYONE mention this so fine, FINE, i will be the one to do it

"We'll see how tough this Mario is when he watches me KILL HIS BROTHER!"

THIS LINE ALL BY ITSELF FELT VERY SCARY AND I FULLY UNDERSTAND WHY THERE WAS NEVER A MOMENT WHERE BOWSER COULD ACTUALLY TRY TO MAKE GOOD ON THIS THREAT, THAT'D BE TOO INTENSE FOR THE TONE THEY WERE GOING FOR, BUT...

WHAT IF...

(look, all i'm saying is the angst gremlin inside of me came ALIVE for a hot second and started imagining scenes playing out in different ways where Bowser DOES have this opportunity with both brothers together before the final battle and it is extremely heartwrenching stuff, OKAY)

I was originally gonna end this post here but welp, now I brainstormed a whole alternative scene under the cut

Imagine this: we're on the Rainbow Road. The blue shell hits! DK does still fall into the ocean (maybe yelling "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAUUUUULT" at Mario as he goes down) but Mario is thrown back by the explosion onto the side of Rainbow Road with Cranky Kong and the other Kongs (he is definitely injured, though) and lands there as they freak out about DK. Peach and Toad are still safely on the other side.

Mario is thus captured with all the other Kongs and taken to Bowser's airship (Peach and Mario call out to each other worriedly but there's nothing she can do and the flying Koopas are coming after her too so Mario yells for her to run and her and Toad have to flee, waaah)

(This would also let Bowser and Mario actually get to meet before the end, which I think would have been nice! Not absolutely necessary, I think the movie works fine without it, but it would have really driven home the threat/stakes a little harder and created a stronger Darkest Moment, I think)

Bowser, seeing that Mario is captured, is just FILLED with hateful glee and wants to break this little man down so badly after he DARED to get close to HIS princess, and he asks Kamek to bring out Luigi from the prison

Mario, now in the airship and restrained, gets to actually SEE Bowser and register how big/menacing he is and they have some banter where Bowser is FURIOUS and Mario is honestly just kind of confused, like, "dude, what is your problem with me??? I just came to this world two days ago???" (He's scared, of course, he's never seen anyone quite like Bowser before, but he also knows his type right away - he's a bully, and Mario's dealt with his fair share of bullies, that's for sure)

But then of course the conversation comes around to "WHERE IS MY BROTHER, LET MY BROTHER GO" and then Luigi is brought in, hands bound, and the brothers can't help but have big, teary smiles and call out happily for each other

But that happiness ends QUICKLY because Bowser advances on Luigi and Mario realizes all at once what's going to happen and he tries to run at him but Kamek drags him back with the magic

And like...I am not one for anything TOO excessive here, I wouldn't want it to be TOO far outside what a movie like this would include, but Bowser does start to hurt Luigi - picking him up and throwing him down, kicking him, scratching him up, and Mario is just in AGONY and desperately struggling to pull free from the magic and begging Bowser to stop, please, if he's mad at someone, hurt HIM, beat HIM up, whatever he wants, but please, don't take it out on his brother, PLEASE, he'll do ANYTHING

But of course, that just makes Bowser taunt Mario more, because he CAN'T do anything. He wants to see Mario broken down and a pathetic mess and begging HIM, the great Koopa King, for mercy because the princess would never be attracted to someone like THAT, how could she, how shameful! Bowser will be sure to tell her ALL about it when he proposes, he is delighted

(oh man, Bowser could even say something like that "whatever happens to him is YOUR fault, you brought your dear brother down with you when you dared to meddle in my fairytale wedding!!!" And it's a ~*~THEMATIC CALLBACK~*~ to Mario's dad, waaaah)

And finally, it looks like Bowser is going to strike a BIG blow but Kamek gets distracted or Mario just becomes desperate enough to pull free of the magic's influence with the power of BROTHERLY LOVE and he gets a punch in on Bowser that knocks him back!!!

And then Mario is helping Luigi up, holding his bruised face sweetly and reassuring him that it's gonna be okay, they're gonna get out of here and go home, and they try to run but they get dragged apart by guards/Kamek/etc again

Bowser is EXTREMELY MAD but manages to calm down and says that he actually appreciates Mario interrupting him with his pathetic little punch because he almost acted too rashly. After all, if he kills Luigi now, he'll be one prisoner short for his ritualistic sacrifice for him and Peach's wedding! Can't have that! Too bad Mario's gonna miss it! And then he grabs Mario and carries him out while Luigi is being carried/dragged back to prison and they're both horrified and crying out each other's names desperately as they're separated AGAIN

Mario gets thrown off the airship by Bowser into the ocean and left for dead (Mario probably gets one more defiant line where he swears he's gonna stop Bowser and Bowser tells Mario that'll never happen but not to worry, him and Peach are going to be very happy together and Mario and his brother will be reunited soon enough - in DEATH [evil laughter])

And then Mario gets swallowed by the eel and DK is already there and things start to play out the same way as the movie from there EXCEPT that when him and DK snipe at each other, Mario starts to break down a little and the line "Well, at least your brother's not gonna die because of you!" has a LOT more emotional weight to it and it's just a longer, more heartwrenching Darkest Moment scene in general, sob)

(and you could also have a scene with Luigi back in prison where he is obviously extremely shaken up and hurt and not knowing what happened to Mario, what did Bowser do with him, is his brother even still ALIVE, why was he so WEAK and unable to do anything, unable to even protect himself or help Mario, etc etc and that helps him have a character beat that maybeeeee makes his surprise rescue of Mario at the end feel more earned????? HMM)

I'M SORRY, I LOVE ANGST (that eventually ends happily) AND IT COMPELS ME

i'm gonna have to write this as an actual, full-fledged fic, aren't I, lolol

[angel-sweets666]

Stuck together

Barbarian prince! bakugo katsuki x princess! Reader(fem)

Your parents arranged you to the brash and rude prince of the barbarians to save their own skin. warnings and stuff inside of the story: talks of virginity, talks of a virginity check (its accurate to the time period ok?) a/n should I make this a series? I think it’d be fun but idk ur rich btw so just like there’s rich stuff. Btw if I do make this a series(this is a sneak peak) it’ll be a slow burn

full version here

AGED UP

Mitsuki leaned back, her piercing gaze fixed on your parents. "So, what do you say? You give us your daughter, and we'll form an alliance," she proposed, pausing for their response. "It would offer protection from the Todoroki kingdom Flamoria, no?" The blonde woman smiled at your father, trying to sway him.

Your mother hesitated. "I mean, I dunno…"

"We'll do it," he interrupted, cutting off your mother.

"Huh?!" Your mother turned to him, shock evident on her face.

"Perfect. Sign here," Mitsuki said smoothly, handing them a piece of paper. It was a betrothal agreement, arranging the marriage between you and her hot-tempered son, Bakugo.

Your father reached for the pen, the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. "This will secure our safety and ensure a powerful ally," he murmured, almost convincing himself as much as anyone else.

"But our daughter…" your mother started, her voice filled with concern and disbelief. She looked at Mitsuki, then back at your father, torn between the political necessity and the love for her child.

"We don't have a choice," your father replied firmly, signing the paper. "This alliance is crucial for our kingdom's survival. The Empyrean empire is strong.”

Mitsuki's smile widened as she took the signed document. "Excellent. You won't regret this. Bakugo will make a fine husband, many heirs will come from this, she is a virgin right?” The blonde asks “we can get her checked for it, *name* was very sheltered growing up so we can assure you she’s a virgin.” Your father explains, leaning back in his own chair. His gaze turns to your mother, who seems distraught about marrying off her child to the barbarian prince. Someone famous for being a violent person.

at 17 years old bakugo had brought back the head of a powerful tribe leader and put it on a stick for everyone to see, at 18 years old he had gathered a small army of men and defeated the midoriya kingdom and had a bloody cloak from the one of the dead soilders to prove it. Then at 20 years old bakugo had forced izuku, the Feywood king to surrender his crown. Which put feywood in the empyrean empire. No one knows where izuku midoriya currently is, all the people know is that he was last scene getting dragged by his green locks by bakugo and was never seen again.

Later on

“YOU ARRANGED ME TO WHO!?” You screamed, staring at your parents in complete horror. How could they do this to you? You make one wrong move and your own husband would order your death! “Look it’s not so bad..” “NOT SO BAD? HES KILLED HUNDREDS! THOUSANDS EVEN” “He won’t kill you though!” Your father exclaimed, An attempt to calm you. “Look, bakugo may seem like a man killing war machine of a prince but his parents assured us that he’s very gentle with women.” You scoffed, leaning your weight to one hip “bullshit. He’s gonna kill me.”

Over the next few weeks, you tried everything to call off the arrangement. You attempted to run away before the virginity check, feigned illness, and concocted elaborate excuses. Nothing seemed to work. Your parents were resolute, insisting that you marry Katsuki Bakugo for the strength of their own kingdom.

Lying in bed, you tossed and turned, unable to escape the looming dread of marrying the great, scary barbarian prince, soon to be barbarian king. What if he rips your head off just because you refuse to give him a kiss? The thought made your heart race with fear.

Suddenly, a knock on the door snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. A maid entered, her eyes downcast. "Your Highness? Tomorrow we will wake you early to help you begin packing for the travel to the Empyrean Kingdom," she said softly, her voice trembling as she tried to avoid any kind of trouble.

You groaned and turned your head toward her. "When am I being sent to them?" you asked

"U-uh, most likely the day after tomorrow," the maid stammered, clearly uneasy with your distress.

You sighed deeply, feeling the weight of your impending fate settle even heavier on your shoulders. "I see… thank you," you muttered.

You looked back at the red headed maid “How far is the journey?” You asked her softly, she fidgeted with her fingers “a-about two days, they live f-far from our kingdom your highness” she stammered. You smiled to the red head and dismissed her.

As she left you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. The thought of being married off to someone you had never met, someone with a terrifying reputation, filled you with a sense of dread and hopelessness. Your parents decision felt like a betrayal, a sacrifice of your happiness for the supposed greater good of the kingdom

You stood in the corner of your large room, watching as numerous servants took gowns, corsets, shoes, and other clothing items, placing them into bags. "U-uh, don’t barbarians wear less formal clothes? Shouldn’t I bring less?" you asked the maids. All of them turned to look at you, a hint of surprise on their faces.

"Her Highness makes a point," the same red-headed maid from the night before whispered to an older maid. The older maid, seemingly more experienced, turned toward you with a thoughtful expression.

"You're right, Your Royal Highness. They would probably end up burning these clothes or turning them into barbarian-styled garments," she conceded.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping in resignation. "What do barbarian women wear?" you asked the older maid, hoping for some clarity.

"Hm… flowy skirts, I’ve seen a few wear headdresses," she replied, as some of the gowns were hung back up in the closet. The maids began to sift through your belongings, selecting items that might be more appropriate for your new life.

As you watched the process, you couldn’t help but glance out the window. Your mother and father were walking in the garden, deep in conversation. They seemed so in love, so perfectly matched, yet they were throwing you into a marriage that promised nothing but misery. The contrast between their happiness and your dread was almost unbearable.

"Your Highness, we’ll pack lighter, more practical clothing for your journey," the older maid reassured.

"Thank you," you murmured, though your heart wasn't in it. The thought of being dressed in unfamiliar clothes, adapting to an unknown culture, and being wed to a man you feared only added to your anxiety.

As the servants continued their work, you wandered over to your bed, sinking down onto the edge. The weight of your impending departure pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. You had grown up surrounded by luxury and love, and now you were being sent away, to marry probably the most violent man you’ve ever heard of

Tears welled up in your eyes as you thought about the future that awaited you. Would you ever find happiness in the Empyrean Kingdom? Would Katsuki Bakugo, the fierce and terrifying prince, ever come to care for you, or would you be nothing more than a means to an end?

"Your Highness, is there anything else you would like us to pack?" one of the younger maids asked, her voice gentle.

You shook your head, wiping away a stray tear. "No, just… make sure to leave out a few comfortable things for me to wear until we leave."

"Of course, Your Highness," she replied, her expression sympathetic.

As the maids continued their preparations, you lay back on your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You tried to find comfort in the familiar surroundings, knowing that soon you would be leaving them behind.

"So, what's the barbarian kingdom like?" you asked, looking over to the maids. The older maid once again turned her head to look at you.

"Most of the people live in either big wooden houses with all sorts of weapons around or in these hut-like tent things. Either way, they have all these symbols painted on them," she described, clearly having been to the Empyrean Kingdom before.

"And what about the Bakugos? Where do they live? You asked

"They live in a stone castle with intricate paintings on it, and there's a lot of security. The last time I was there, they had spikes on the bridge leading to the castle, with people's heads mounted on them," the old maid replied,

"How long ago were you there?" you asked, feeling a chill run down your spine at the gruesome detail.

"When the young prince was about fifteen, so around five years ago," she said, placing one last corset into a bag.

You glanced at the six bags of items packed for your journey, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. It was a smaller amount than you had anticipated, yet it seemed to signify the end of one life and the beginning of another.

"Did you meet the prince?" you asked, trying to glean any information that might help you understand the man you were to marry.

"Briefly," she replied, her expression softening. "He was intense, even as a teenager. Always training, always pushing himself. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a loneliness."

You sighed, trying to reconcile the image of the fierce, terrifying prince with the glimpses of vulnerability the maid described. "And the people there? How are they?"

"Fierce, proud, and loyal," the older maid said. "They value strength above all else, but they also have a deep sense of honor and community. If you earn their respect, they'll defend you with their lives."

The more you learned, the more daunting your future seemed. Yet, there was a strange comfort in knowing that the barbarian kingdom, despite its harsh exterior, had its own codes and values.

As the maids continued their work, you tried to imagine what life in the Empyrean Kingdom would be like

"Is there anything else I should know?" you asked, your voice softer, almost hesitant.

The older maid paused, considering your question. "Just remember, Your Highness, that if you respect them and they’ll respect you."

Her words resonated with you, giving you a small but vital sense of empowerment. You nodded “alright, seems easy enough..”

The day that you needed to travel to the empyrean kingdom came, your parents watched you walk from

The ride to the Empyrean Kingdom was grueling. As the carriage rattled over uneven roads, you gazed out the window, the lush greenery of your homeland gradually giving way to the rugged, bushy landscape of the barbarian territory. The closer you got, the more your anxiety grew, each kilometre bringing you closer to the empyrean land

When you finally arrived at the castle, you were struck by its threatening look. The stone walls were decorated with weird red painted symbols, and the spiked bridge, as described by the maid, loomed menacingly ahead. Your heart pounded as you stepped out of the carriage, taking in the harsh surroundings.

A group of stern-faced and very attractive guards escorted you inside. The castle's interior was as intimidating as its exterior—dimly lit, with weapons and trophies of past battles displayed prominently on the walls. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you were led through the cold halls

Finally, you were brought to a large chamber where a tall, muscular figure stood with his back to you. His spiky blonde hair was unmistakable. As he slowly turned to face you, his piercing red eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you want to look away.

he was tall and about 6ft with messy blonde hair, scars all over his body and face, and peircing

"So, you're the princess they sent," Katsuki said, his voice dripping with disdain. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, his expression one of barely concealed annoyance.

You straightened your back, meeting his gaze with as much confidence as you could muster. "I am," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bakugo scoffed, looking you up and down as if to check if you were just a weak small baby or strong enough to be a wife and a queen “Great. Another weakling to babysit," he muttered under his breath.

Anger formed within you at his dismissive attitude. "I am not a weakling," you snapped. "And I am certainly not here to be babysat."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "We'll see about that," he said, turning away from you. "Follow me. There's no point in wasting time."

You clenched your fists, biting back a come back to insult him with as you followed him through the castle. Every step echoed in the vast, cold corridors.

Bakugo led you to a large hall where a group of people—presumably his advisors and some of the castle staff—were gathered. He introduced you curtly, barely sparing you a glance as he did so. The looks you received ranged from curiosity to outright hostility, they clearly didn’t want you here. Just like the old maid back had home had warned, these people hated the weak.

After the introductions, Bakugo dismissed everyone, including you. "You'll be shown to your chambers. Don't get in my way," he said, the blonde clearly trying to end the conversation between you two before he could get sucked into some conversation he didn’t waht

You followed a servant to your chambers, a mix of anger and sadness within you. The room was surprisingly comfortable, a stark contrast to the rest of the castle, but it did little to lift your spirits. You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of your new reality settle over you.

Over the next few days, you tried to find your place in the castle. The people were distant and wary, their lack of trust clear in their every interaction with you. And Bakugo… he was even worse than most . He ignored you most of the time, and when he did speak to you, it was with a cold, dismissive tone that made your blood boil. He always had a tone of sass, trying to get under your skin constantly.

as the days grew closer and closer to your wedding date he seemed to just get more and more annoying, constantly having some tone of sass. Never wanting to talk to you and constantly flirting with your maids

oh you are so done with his bullshit

[reve-writes]

—you bury me; leon kennedy.

ʚ leon kennedy x reader | resident evil | 1,1k words. ʚ leon and reader finishes a mission. | can be read as a continuation of rotten work. ʚ injuries; zombies and stuff; fluff (no one dies dw). ʚ a/n more of my attempt to write slightly flirty banters between reader and leon. i learned the phrase "you bury me" aka "ya'aburnee" and my life has never been the same.

There are times when you think Leon is invincible, like he has come alive straight out of the pages of a comic book. He barrels through the undead like a machine—all tough exterior and deadly shooting accuracy that has your jaw dropping with awe.

And then, there are times when you are reminded he isn't. He is no untouchable otherworldly alien born with diamond-hard skin and superhuman strength. He's just flesh and bone knitted together and he bleeds. Despite his might, he's just one bad day away from an infection just as everyone else.

“Fuck,” he curses, face all red and chest heaving. “Goddamnit. Fuck.”

Your hands are trembling as you reload your magazine. The scene replays over and over in your mind: rotten jaw unhinging so close to his neck, teeth within biting distance and you think your entire world is coming to a halt.

Leon swivels out of the way just in time.

You're not a religious person, but for that one split second he avoids the death sentence, you think you should sing praises and grateful prayers.

“Are you okay?” You ask over guns blazing. Your magazine finally clicks in and you start opening fire to the growing hoard of zombies around you.

“Never been better,” he replies through gritted teeth. It was a dumb question to ask. You know he's not faring well—he is limping across the field, left foot practically being dragged behind him. He uses one hand to shoot, the other has an open gash through his short-fingered glove down his palm. His sweat-slicked forehead is also red with blood from a cut just over his eyebrow.

“Lean on me,” you tell him, moving to hoop his left arm around your shoulder. He's not a small man—what with trained muscles over his bones and a figure that slightly towers over you. “Let me help you, Leon.”

He tries to shake himself off of you. “Just get to the extraction point.”

“We'll get there quicker if you would—”

“Just run!”

“And what? Leave you here to be their dinner?” You protest, forcefully pushing yourself under his arm. “No way. I haven't even gotten a taste.”

Leon—even with the miserable situation you are in—chuckles. “Really? Is this the right time?”

He relents and lets you hobble him along. The field stretches long—somewhere off of a rural village whose residents are now nothing more than grotesque-looking undead. You've made it two-thirds of the way.

Bullets fly left and right, both from you and Leon. “Shut up, Leon. Walk faster.”

“Told you to run, didn't I?”

Your breathing is laboured from the Sisyphean effort. “Out of the question. I can't have your death on my conscience.”

“Not dying that easily, don't worry.”

He better not.

The helicopter engine roars in your ears as you step closer, dusty air stinging your eyes. You hear gunshots from your rescuer, covering you from nearby zombies. Your whole body is burning when you're finally hauled into the chopper with Leon. You finally let your muscles loosen, tension melting away as the engine roars to life under you.

The rest occurs in quick motion blurs. The usual mission reports and check-ups and then you're walking out the door with a patched-up, healthier-looking Leon by your side.

“Shouldn't they keep you on bedrest?” You ask. “Can't have anything happen to their golden boy.”

“They tried to.” He shrugs. “I'm fine, though.”

You stare at him, disbelief apparent in your wide-eyed expression. “Fine? How are you fine?”

You gesture to the walking stick he tucks under his arm and his splined foot. He waves a hand dismissively. “I've had worse.”

“You were so close to getting bit.”

The words echo into a drawn-out silence as the meaning truly sinks into him. It is strange, the numbness he has developed to the thought of dying. Constant exposure to mortal peril has desensitised him, he supposes.

“I watched it almost happen and for a terrible moment I thought that you were going turn into... into—”

“I didn't.”

He's right. You find comfort in knowing that he is still standing, that he's not going down so easily, but even Leon Kennedy is merely human.

“You know, if things ever go to shit, I hope I... go before you do.”

He's not following. Not exactly. “How come?”

“Don't worry about it.” You don't elaborate, but you know you mean it. A world without Leon Kennedy sounds like a world you don't want to be a part of. As much as he makes you want to tear your hair out, he's the only person who understands and shares your burdens.

He hums thoughtfully, frowning, but ends up chalking it up to your usual rambling. “Okay, then. I'll catch you later.”

He starts walking to the car they've provided for him—chauffeur and all. Must be nice to be the golden boy. Before he has even walked three steps away, you grab his wrist with a slight tug and he halts.

“Go home,” you request. “You better not go and get wasted in some bar. Rest, Leon. You deserve it.”

“I wasn't going to.”

The look in his eyes says that he is most definitely going to drink his sorrows away.

“You're so unbelievably stubborn.”

“Look who's talking.” He holds up his wrist that you're still grabbing, wriggling it out of your grasp to press his palm on yours, fingers interlocking. “Also, if you wanted to hold hands, you could've just asked.”

“You—”

“I seem to also recall you saying something along the lines of wanting to have a taste—”

“Leon,” you interrupt immediately, not wanting to drag out the embarrassment that he's oh-so-generously giving you. “I mean it. Get some rest.”

“What are you? My parent?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You need to recover well. The world needs saving and I need my mission partner.”

His hand is still warm over on yours, now hanging low by your side and the two of you look almost normal. Just two people holding hands waiting for their ride.

“You're cute when you worry about me.”

That has an involuntary smile to bloom on your face as you've used the same line on him before.

“Only when I worry?”

“And on other occasions.” This has you dizzy.

“Well.” He drops your hand and it twitches, already missing the spaces between his fingers. “I better get going.”

He gestures at the impatient-looking driver who has been sitting there the entire time. You shake your head at him. “Poor guy.”

“I'll call.” He gets into the passenger seat. You're standing just a step away from the rolled-down window.

“I might pick up.”

Before he has a chance to retort, you gesture the driver to go ahead and the car speeds off at once, leaving you to spend the rest of the day constantly checking if your phone has rung.

[ ]

[kings-highway]

Haikyuu Captain Squad Flash Fiction: Miniature Rocket

---

Bokuto comes back from a summer holiday, and one of the first things he does is knock on Kuroo's door. He holds up the box that he's holding - "Look what I got," he says, grinning. "It's a miniature rocket. Apparently it can launch like a hundred feet high. Can you help me build it?"

Kuroo is a little skeptical, but his interest in launching a rocket gets the better of him. Plus, he's pretty sure Bokuto will light a fire if left unattended with this thing.

So he agrees, and they head out to an empty park field that morning to go build the thing. Kuroo likes to think he's pretty good at this sort of activity, but after about an hour and six separate arguements, he throws the piece he was holding down into the grass.

"Dude, this is impossible. We need help," Bokuto groans, flopping into the grass.

Kuroo thinks about this for a moment, before making a call on his phone.

- When Daichi arrives to help, he finds the two boys rather dispairingly stretched out in the grass.

"Why do you think I'll be able to help?" he asks, sitting down with them and beginning to look at the pieces.

"I dunno, you're like, good with this kinda stuff, yeah? Like the building stuff."

Daichi stares at Bokuto for a second before looking at the rocket again, and deciding he may as well give it a go. Unfortunately, thirty minutes of frustrating confusion later and they've made no progress.

"You know who might be able to help?" Daichi says, pulling out his phone.

- Ushijima is next to arrive on scene, standing above them and staring down at the three idiots as they go through the pieces and explain what they think they're supposed to do.

"Are there not instructions?" Ushijima asks, frowning.

Daichi has the good sense to seem embarassed, scratching at the back of his neck before nodding to the other boys. "I just assumed if they needed help there hadn't been any."

"I... didn't check..." Kuroo mumbles.

Ushijima turns to find the box, digging around inside to produce a small folded booklet for instructions.

"Alright, bud," Kuroo calls. "Just tell us what to do and we'll do it."

"I cannot."

"Excuse me?"

Ushijima looks over to them. "I cannot read it. Where did you buy this?"

"Mexico," Bokuto says, prompting Kuroo to plant his face into the grass.

"Give me a moment," Ushijima says, turning away to make a phone call.

- "Alright... so... no, put the long piece... yeah, just connect it in like that-" Oikawa honestly wasn't so thrilled at being dragged out here mid-afternoon, but he hadn't had anything better to do. Daichi and Kuroo are both covered in grass stains by now, but at least they're almost done. "Okay, then- wait, shit, sorry - we're gonna need the wigglymajig back-"

"I thought you knew how to read Spanish," Bokuto frowns, where he's standing over Oikawa's shoulder and pretending he's helping.

"Yeah, everyday normal words," Oikawa replies. "I didn't exactly study my engineering vocabulary, this shit is complicated."

"It's just a toy," Ushijima says.

"You're just a toy, shut the hell up."

Either way, after about two hours of guided help, they have arranged the rocket and managed to get it's innards working to the best of their abilities. They set it up on it's launch pad, and all scramble back the reccomended distance.

"Alright, blast off!" Bokuto says.

Nothing.

"Blast. Off," Bokuto repeats, annoyed.

Still nothing.

"Did we do-"

The question Daichi was about to ask, 'did we do something wrong,' is immediately answered by the rocket exploding into a million pieces, making them all jump and flinch back as it's plastic is scattered in all directions.