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yolli-es · 13 days ago

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Could you possibly write fluff alphabet prompts for the lovely girl Jinx :3

Fluff Alphabet Jinx ❣️

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2 (if you haven't watched it yet), mention of violent acts, psychological problems.

My heart is broken, so I hope this helps heal yours.. Perhaps I misunderstood the request and/or points.

Affection: How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

Touch, touch, touch.

Does this all the time and expects the same from you. Jinx can never help it, she won't even try. Every time you're lost in thought, she'll take your hand and play with your fingers. Gently, lightly, and casually. You won't even notice, but she can do it for hours.

Jinx is very attached to you and never leaves you for more than an hour unless absolutely necessary.

Just let her do it.

Best friend: What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

Spontaneous. She often said something strange, and after looking at your face, she laughed awkwardly and quickly changed the subject. She came up with strange, sometimes too childish games to have fun and too dangerous to strengthen your relationship.

Like your first meeting. Don't be surprised if you bumped into her or she suddenly tried to steal something from you and then you became friends. This is Jinx.

You quickly got used to it.

Cuddles: Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

Hug, hug, hug.

Jinx has received many hugs in her life, but never one that was so meaningful and necessary to her. Vi and Silco were important to her, but you have a deeper connection with her. Every hug reminds her that she is not just existing. It gives her strength and faith in her better side.

If she could, she would do it forever. It doesn't matter how, gently or harshly, with love or joy. The main thing is that it's you.

Domestic: Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?

Surprisingly, Jinx is good at cooking. But only because she is picky. Yes, Zaun is not a buffet, but she knows exactly what she wants and how she will get it. She will not let you eat something garbage.

And yet, she just doesn't see the point in cleaning. Haven't you seen her lair?

"If it's dusty, you don't need it; what's the problem, toots?"

Ending: If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

No way.

It would be the end of the world. Break up with you after everything she's been through? Forget it. She'll do anything, from murder to rebuilding her personality. Yes, Jinx will resist and say that she won't do it. But she will. She's too scared. You've done so much for her, and she lives and breathes with you.

If you leave her, she will not leave you alone. Jinx will follow you in the shadows. It is unlikely that you will ever know that she is there, unless Jinx herself wants you to know. She will definitely find a way to come back to you, and believe me, you simply will not have a choice.

In case of an unforeseen situation... she definitely won't survive without someone's support.

Fiance(e): How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

Never really thought about it. There's too much going on in her life to think about something as simple and mundane as a wedding.

But that doesn't mean she'll never think about it.

It will be like a sudden walk in Zaun when she suddenly sees a married couple and it dawns on her. Most likely, she will propose to you almost immediately after he thinks about it.

Say yes, and she will throw you the most lavish wedding. In her style, of course.

Say no, and she'll just wait before trying again.

Gentle: How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

Jinx gives you all the tenderness that is left in her. Every time she tries to be more careful with you, especially when she tries to make it pleasant for you. Hugs, kisses, and games, in most cases, will take place in playful and caring touches.

But emotions are too much. Jinx can't control them, even though she tries. She has a hard time talking about her feelings, especially when they don't match yours. This only makes things worse and makes her feel misunderstand. So in her vulnerable moments, Jinx tries to move away from you, just to avoid scaring you and driving you both into a corner of fear and mistrust.

She's trying; give her a chance and time. You are a good influence on her.

Hugs: Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

Jinx hugs you often, and yes, it's the best way to say, "I'm here, and I love you." In most cases, it will do it too tightly; it is quite strong.

I love you: How fast do they say the L-word?

It's complicated. Even when Jinx confessed to you, she couldn't say it without stumbling and biting her lips.

It didn't get any easier with time. It's easier for her to show with actions than to say. She'll make, listen, steal, sew, cook, and anything but say? Oh... And yet, Jinx knows better than anyone how sometimes it is important to hear confirmation that you are loved.

And she will say it, definitely.

Jealousy: How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?

It's so bad that she saw the enemy even in her sister. Just once, it was awkward, but still.

Jinx will definitely know if someone likes you. It must be her magic ability. Then she will be even closer, more aggressive, and talkative. She will lose her shyness even if you don't like it. Jinx might show you off her new gadgets with a hint of "Oh, I have no one to test this on." If the person doesn't understand... well, I think he did.

It's not you; no, she's absolutely certain of your loyalty. The problem is in this world and... in her. She's still Jinx, isn't she?

Kisses: What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

She kisses wherever and whenever she wants. Why should she choose or be shy?

Most of the time, these are innocent and quick pecks on the cheek, lips, and neck. Sometimes, you'll get a barrage of quick kisses, so attack back!

The rest of the time, Jinx does not skimp on long and intense kisses. She will always make the first "trial" kiss as if inviting you to continue and giving you the opportunity to say no. She won't object the rest of the time either, but then you will definitely not get rid of her teasing and sad face for the rest of the day.

Everything she does to you, Jinx expects to get in return.

Little ones: How are they around children?

Doesn't notice them most of the time. It's understandable; most of the children here are doomed.

And yet, if the child becomes a little closer to her than a stranger and Jinx sees the child's sincere affection, it will mean that now this is your child. It does not matter whether he has parents or some problems with anything; now this is your child, and Jinx loves him.

In most cases, she will act playfully with the child, playing out the older sister or "kind" parent. But that doesn't mean she won't eliminate any possible threat to the child. Don't underestimate her.

Morning: How are mornings spent with them?

When she wakes up before you, she lies still while you sleep. Maybe she's just thinking about something, or maybe she might be staring right at you. Maybe she's staring at you while she's thinking about something? As soon as she realizes you're about to wake up, she'll wake you up looking like she just got up and is bored.

When you wake up first, it's all up to you. Watch her, and Jinx will definitely be embarrassed about it after waking up. Wake her up, and Jinx will make a displeased face, only to relax you and attack you with a pillow from behind. Fall asleep again, and Jinx will beat you to it.

It won't be boring.

Night: How are nights spent with them?

Depends on Jinx's condition.

If she was even a little restless, the night would be the same. Jinx would wake up and unwittingly wake you. She's sorry; she didn't mean to.

If everything is fine, she sleeps like a hibernating bear. It seems as if even a nuclear explosion could not wake her up.

Open: When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

Talking about your feelings is a real problem for Jinx, let alone her past. Most likely, you already know a lot thanks to rumors in the city. Jinx will not comment on this in any way.

However, time goes by, and you have already been there more than once in the shittiest moments, opened your soul to her in the most difficult moments, and saved her in the most dangerous. The truth about her is the least she owes you.

Jinx starts slowly, from afar, and as if it's not about her at all. And then the story will get deeper and deeper, and you'll see not Jinx but Powder. After that, you'll be truly close.

Patience: How easily angered are they?

Very easy. A few careless words, and she's furious. Don't worry, Jinx won't hurt you. But she and the others may well suffer. She knows that you didn't wish her any harm, but she can't restrain herself.

Quizzes: How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

Jinx knows and remembers absolutely everything. For her, every little thing about you is important and valuable. She never knows where and why it might be useful to her, but she is sure that this is important knowledge. Secrets that she will not share.

Remember: What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

Every moment when she thinks, "I knew I was right about you."

One of those favorite moments was at the very beginning of your relationship. Some bastards were hunting her down and were damn close to catching her. When she was cornered, you showed up as their partner. You gloated and laughed, shook their hands, and even pointed a gun at Jinx. And all this in order to destroy these bastards. It was cruel, dirty, and instructive.

No more such gangs were formed.

She loves you so much.

Security: How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

You won't find a more reliable partner. Jinx will save you at any cost; she is simply unstoppable. She has no fear and no limits when it comes to safety. Zaun does not forgive mistakes.

However, Jinx has never asked and will never ask you for protection. You have saved her many times, and yet she is still convinced that you are fragile and definitely cannot cope on your own.

When it comes to a real fight, Jinx will forget about all the nonsense.

Try: How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

Jinx will pretend that all this is nonsense and that she doesn't care about such trivial things. And then she will invest herself in it as if it is the last thing she will do in her life.

Ugly: What would be some bad habits of theirs?

Blow up anything and anyone.

Vanity: How concerned are they with their looks?

She doesn't care.

Of course, she won’t let herself get to the point of becoming a lump of dirt, but she’s indifferent to anything that doesn’t concern hygiene.

Whole: Would they feel incomplete without you?

Yes, and this is actually tragic.

Jinx tends to get attached to someone and build a very strong bond with them. When you're not around, she's not complete; everything seems to fall out of her hands. Everything that was perfect before doesn't work, and things that Jinx was confident in before are called into question.

She just needs to know how you'll react to anything before making any decisions; Jinx feels empty.

Xtra: A random headcanon for them.

You will definitely get small matching tattoos on your wrists, neck, or stomach. Jinx will be in the most visible place of your bodies.

She lets you paint her bombs and guns. It's personal to her.

Yuck: What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

Lies. In any form.

Jinx can't trust herself, so what's she supposed to do if she can't trust you? Even if it's a small thing, don't lie to her. It could become too big.

Zzz: What is a sleep habits of theirs?

Lie down on her, or Jinx will throw all her limbs at you. Don't even think about dodging or moving away; she will grab you tighter.

It helps her feel calmer.

Jinx loves you.

Thank you.

#arcane x reader #jinx x reader #arcane jinx #arcane jinx x reader #jinx arcane #jinx x fem!reader #arcane #arcane headcanon #arcane league of legends #arcane netflix #jinx league of legends #jinx alphabet

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tojisbbygworl · 1 year ago

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He’s Not Actually That Cool - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader

Based off of this post

Part 2 bonus bonus ii

Masterlist

Imagine Hobie, the undeniably coolest person in the Spider Society, is a virgin nerd with a big dick

Tags: Hobie is a pathetic virgin loser, 18+, a lil smut, Oral (m receiving)

"How are you even cooler under your mask?"

"I was this cool the whole time."

A scoff behind the both of them. It's you shaking your head in your mask.

Hobie smirks at you. "Something funny there, love?" You don't say anything, just pretending you don't hear him and looking away innocently.

Hobie was the reason you were a part of the Spider Society. He and Miguel had captured the anomaly in your own universe with your help, of course. You knew Hobie had immediately took a liking to you what with the way he stared at you through his mask when he first laid eyes on you, frozen in place, color palette pink.

You liked him the moment he ripped his mask off when it was all said and done. He looked real good with his wicks, his sharp facial structure, wide-set nose and even larger lips. You actually believed him when he said he was briefly a runway model, emphasis on the briefly.

He invited you to join them and pulled you into the portal before Miguel could even say anything. You two have been inseparable ever since.

As you met more people, they all told you of their opinion of the man who seemed to be your best friend. Everyone says the same thing, that he's effortlessly cool and it makes him a little obnoxious. It always made you tilt your head.

You've seen the anime action figures in his room ranging anywhere from Naruto to Tokyo Ghoul.

"Oi, don't touch my things. You're the only person I trust to let in here, don't ruin it."

He's talked your ear off about the intricate lore of FNAF (he HATES MatPat btw)

You've groaned at how many times you've heard the name 'Afton' leave his mouth.

"So the place shut down again after the victim lost their entire frontal lobe"

"And that's the bite of '83, right?"

"No, that's the bite of '87. Thought I told you about '83?"

He probably did but he talked about it so damn much that you forgot. "It's cool, I'll tell you. So the bite of '83..."

This man is a fucking nerd but the BIGGEST misconception everyone has is that he's probably great at sex.

He has a reputation of "running through" everyone who wants him at the society...and yet no one has actually done anything with him. Everyone whispers about it, but no one has ever come out and admitted to having sex with him.

He's without a doubt your closest friend, so you asked him about it while you were chilling at his, watching him strum his guitar.

"So I heard you been running through the Spider Society like a tomb raider."

He cackled, "Yeah, that's what they all believe, innit?"

"It's not true?"

He shook his head. "I haven't got bottle, luv. Don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing."

"Oh really?"

He stopped strumming to look up at you, his smirk falling upon seeing your sultry and mischievous face. He grew a bit nervous, but was more excited if anything.

"What's that look about?"

"Would you like someone to teach you?"

He dropped his pick from how badly he was shaking. Hobie gulped and slowly nodded his head. You walked over to him and slowly lifted his guitar off his body, then pushing him back into the couch and sitting on top of him.

That's how this current make-out session started with you doing most of the work, taking off yours and his clothes feverously.

Hobie just sat back and let you do whatever you wanted. He especially loved watching you strip down to your underwear, blood shooting to his dick as soon as he watched your breasts bounce out of your shirt. He watched you pull your panties off of you leaving you completely naked and him only in his boxers.

He shifted in the couch to relieve some tension. You giggled at his starstruck face.

"You good?" You asked him. He nodded. "Do you need me to pull it out for you?" He nodded again.

You laughed, but was quickly shut up by his long, curved shaft slapping back onto his stomach. His underwear did him no justice, nothing could have prepared you for this.

He shyly looked away and bit his lip, not wanting to admit that he liked the way you gazed at it. It fueled his ego, but he didn't know how to tell you without stuttering.

He was actually shaking pretty bad, and it worried you. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah...I just..." he gulped and looked back down, his dick jumping upon looking into your eyes. Just like his, yours were a deep brown. Your eyes were furrowed in concern, and your full lips were parted. His breathing got deeper.

"You really want to have sex? With me?"

You deadpanned him, then leaned your head down to his base. Hobie gasped when you stuck your tongue out and licked all the way to his tips. Your played with it for a couple seconds, leaving him a shuddering mess. His precum leaked from it and you licked it all up reveling in the salty taste.

"O-oh..." he moaned when you grasped it gently and began to pump. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, so glad that he didn't have to imagine it was your hand beating his dick. He humped into it a little, and he looked so sexy crunching his abs that you couldn't help but to enclose your mouth over him.

"Oh, fuck," he exclaimed. He threw his head back up and gazed upon your form. You were giving him the sloppiest top he had ever seen, (he only watched BJ and missionary porn and you were much better than those girls)

God, he couldn't wait to get you under him and hump into you like's he's thought about for so long. He's used his hand, his pillow, he even looked up how to make his own flesh light because he would never be able to hide a real one from you. It was gross but fuck, how else was he supposed to get his rocks off? If he didn't do any of those things, he would have no control around you.

"Fuck, babe. Please keep going~" Hobie was drooling - actually drooling - out the side of his mouth. He panted and clenched his hands. You had to reach out and move them to your hair.

The poor thing panicked, he had no idea what you wanted him to do. He gently pet your small afro, more concerned that he was close to cumming down your throat.

You stopped and popped him out of your mouth, laughing a little at how cute he was.

You didn't notice how stressed he looked, him sitting up a little more in the chair. "Ngh, wait, no-" he whispered.

His dick bounces with each spray of his cum with him letting out a string of moans and curses as it lands on his stomach and chest. "Ffff...uh...uck..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you say, watching his fucked-out face. His head bounces with each deep breath he took.

"Why...did you...stop?" he asked in between pants.

"Why did you pat my head?" you asked, standing up, begrudgingly putting your clothes back on despite the ache between your legs.

"What was I supposed to do?" Hobie stares at your ass lustfully, feeling the blood rush back into his dick from how it moved.

"You were supposed to grab my hair and choke me with your dick, baby."

He gulps not being able to take his eyes off of you. "Oh."

You turned after putting your panties back on and froze. His dick was standing straight up again, the head glistening with thick white liquid. He stared at you embarrassingly, hoping that you would just come back over and kiss it.

"You could have said something before I started putting my shit back on."

"Sorry," he said, not being able to contain his excitement when you walked back over to him. His smile went away when you instead hovered yourself over his lap. His cum was still on his stomach and his dick. "W-Wait-"

"Yeah?" You whispered sensually, grabbing him again and pulling your panties to the side to line him up with you.

"I'm still-, I still have-, Is this okay?"

"I'm on the pill."

He starts getting nervous again, but he doesn't know why.

"You scared?" She asks.

He looks at her and rests his hand on her hip. "I don't want to hurt you. Or make you uncomfortable."

You giggled again. "I promise you I'll be fine."

"But, I still got my cum on me, babe."

"I know." You leans over to his ear and lick it. He shivers. "Isn't that so nasty?"

Hobie moaned as you begin to sink yourself onto him. You moan too, Hobie splitting you like you never imagined.

"You really want to shag a virgin?" He finally asked her, his voice wavering.

She rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration. "Virginity is a social construct. Don't be ashamed. Now shut the fuck up."

Definitely making a part 2 and a lil bonus and another bonus (ii)

Taglist is closed!

Masterlist

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spider punk smut #hobie brown x black!reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x black reader #spider punk x reader smut #black reader

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boofeine · 10 days ago

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kinky things that make seventeen members more aroused during sex

WARNINGS: mdni, smut headcanons, afab reader, cum play, breeding kink, bondage, restraining, overstimulation, role play, edging, pain kink, orgasm dinal, spanking, choking

tags: @huen1ngk4i @aaniag @svteensworld @kooqitas @unlikelysublimekryptonite @yorkutis

seungcheol – cum play and breeding; it has to be raw sex... there's nothing seungcheol loves more than feel your walls pulsating around his cock. the way he can see his hot cum spurr on your ass cheek or on your breast, belly, neck, anywhere really. sometimes, when he feels a little risky, he can't help but ask to cum inside you, the way your cums mixed comes out of your clenching hole when he finally pulls out, he's done but he's ready to get hard again.

jeonghan – having to keep quiet; it's all about the teasing, he loves seeing you suffer to keep it down when it feels so good. your lips caged in your teeth as small whines treats to come out, "is it too much, babe?", he would tease with a devilish smirk, testing all your limits by restraining your high until you can't take it anymore. when you're finally coming undone, he loves to press his palm over your mouth or demand you to bite him to not moan too loud.

joshua – multiple orgasm; like... HEAR ME OUT!! he likes to take his time with you, he's so gentle, with no rush at all. sometimes, it's not even on purpose, but he's edging you so much, that when it finally comes, you cum and cum and cum again. his stamina is crazy and he won't stop until he's satisfied. you squirm and sweat under his workship, "are you tired? i haven't even started with you yet, lay down again for me".

junhui – role play; see, he just gives me those vibes. he'd feel embarrassed at first, but once you fully clock him in, he'd be obsessed. specially, scenarios where you're doming him, he fucking lose his mind... use him, step on him, anything, he's rock hard under your actions. as he grows used to it, he even asks you to get costumized for it, getting really in character, he loves sexy costumes and lacy fantasies.

soonyoung – pain kink; is it new for anyone? hoshi, himself, said he works better under pressure. he loves the spanking and the degradation, he squirms and growls because of you, but it also makes him want to do a better job... if not to make you fully satisfied, he's not doing anything. i see hoshi enjoying face slapping, rough gripping like grabbing his cheeks and jaw while he's on his knees for you, thumb slowly making its way inside his mouth as you laugh at how pathetic he looks for you.

wonwoo – edging; sometimes he's in his mean mode, he normally is sweet and passionate during sex but breaking a sweat to make you beg him to let you cum is one of his favorites. the way you wrap your legs around his hips, rolling yours as you bumble breathy words in between "please", he never cums harder, pinning you down on the mattress to stop you from running, his core pressing over your clit as wonwoo alternates in rough thrusts and slow ones. it makes you almost cry for his mercy.

jihoon – being loud; different from jeonghan, he loves to hear you loud and clear, it bust his ego that he's doing such a good job at delivering pleasure. it could get him off guard at first, too afraid someone would hear, his cheeks flushing, as you scream your moans. but he grows attached to it, it turned into his breaking point every sex, he always pounds harder just to hear you. "is it that good, huh? fuck! let me hear you"

seokmin – overstimulation; especially during oral, he loves the way your legs close on his head when it's too much, how you whine, whimper, and cry out his name. how the grip you have on him always tighten when you say it's too much and that you can't cum anymore. he snugs to your arms, sweetly saying you're a good girl and that he knows you can take it. your pussy swollen and hurt as he whispers "just one more, give it to me" but it's never the last. he loves to treat you well before he gets anything, he gets hard just by pleasing and hearing you.

mingyu – getting tied up; just give this man some handcuffs, put him tied on the bed headboard, i swear he'd cum by just you using him while he's not able to do anything. he likes the frustration, the way he always tries to break free just to touch you as you look at him, tutting and disapproving his not so well behavior. he always cum faster than anything when you use his cock as your fuck toy on your cunt.

minghao – blindfold; he enjoys doing it on you, you always get more out of breath and sensitive when he gets you blindfold. the thrill of it making goosebumps form easily, anticipating every move he might do next. he's obsessed at seeing you so vulnerable, you look nothing but innocent those times. your low moans and whines, he swears you're heaven sent, bumping his length as he touches your body, watching you react shakily, watching you gets him wetter.

seungkwan – rage sex and spanking; not a surprise either... he almost never fights with you, but if there's a good outcome to those fights, it is how frustrated you both get and pull out during the makeup deed. it goes both ways, he likes both, you doming him or him doming you, either way is intense. the choking, the slapping, the way the words turn just a bit bratty and aggressive. he manhandles you like you're born to be his little light doll, changing positions and throwing you around on the bed sheets.

vernon – bringing more people to the game; yes, he's into it. he's up for the threesome always, more than three people, he'd ponder, though. he likes every different aspect of it, just sitting back and watching, or being watched, or mixing positions. it adds to the sex and he's up to it. he's not a jealous guy but normally sets to making the things to you and just receiving for the third person, maybe that's what also arouses him so much, he doesn't gotta do much to cum.

chan – orgasm denial; more precise, being the one receiving it. he enjoys the feeling of his red sensative cockhead burning and dripping pre cum every time you stop him from cumming. the way it hurts just a bit and enough to make him roll his eyes when he finally cums. he won't cum until you say he can and that alone, that hold of power you have on him, makes him tight on his ball. but he's good, he's so well-behaved, you must treat him well.

#was wannabelife #seventeen #fanfic #svt headcanons #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut

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xalygatorx · 15 days ago

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A Case of the Slumps | Alastor x Depressed!GN!Reader

Summary: It seems you've brought your brain chemistry down to Hell with you. Figures.

Warnings/Tags: Hurt/Comfort, depression and related symptoms/thoughts (obvi), cinnamon roll Charlie, Angel gives you a Xanax but you don't take it, platonic Alastor with a hint of possible unspoken romantic feelings, unexplained cause of death, present tense for some reason, reader is gender neutral

A/N: Crosspost of a recent oneshot from my AO3 because I figured if I'm in a slump, someone else probably is too. x

Sometimes it was a thought. Sometimes it was the time of year or the weather, when Hell's crimson sky was kept dark for long periods of time by an uptick of brimstone in the atmosphere or the lingering storm clouds after an acidic downpour. Sometimes it was a memory. A song. A smell.

Sometimes it was seemingly nothing at all.

Just like when you were alive, your now-dead brain hasn't lost its particular quality of liking to work against itself. It's impossible to say whether it's a continued chemical imbalance—that'd be likely right? If demons can do drugs, then clearly there's still something to brain chemistry in Hell—or if death took a snapshot of your self and your mind as they were in life.

It doesn't really matter what it is either because it still affects you just the same. And because you haven't had a depressive episode yet post-mortem, you haven't done any of the legwork you had to do in life on your own to figure out what's "wrong" with you, who might hear you and listen, and what medication(s) works.

So when it does hit, it hits like a tidal wave no one else can see. The wave itself, anyway—everyone can see you drowning.

That first slump isn't kind enough to hit in the morning when you can sleep in—or rather stare with dead eyes at the wall, bundled under your duvet and blankets as you put off the day passing by around you. No, that first slump hits in the middle of one of Charlie's exercises, one that you were enthusiastic about participating in just an hour ago. What happened?

You know. This feeling is an old friend you'd hoped to never meet again.

Charlie doesn't though, not right away. After you excuse yourself by means of referencing a stomachache you only kind of have—and only from the emptiness pooling in your gut and humming in your chest—she catches up to you in the hallway.

"Hey!" she chirps, leaning around to look at you when you stop but don't turn around. If anything, you curl further into yourself. She doesn't notice though—the only ones who would notice your change are the ones who know to look for it. Charlie, bless her heart, doesn't have that earthly world experience yet. "Do you want us to wait up for you or…?"

"Oh, uh, no," you stammer out, yearning for a big hoodie to comfortably drown in or a cup of tea, the idea of which sounds lovely but you don't even like tea. Everything that would normally feel like a treat sounds stressful or unappetizing, leaving you uncertain about what exactly you're meant to be doing. That's when the lethargy hits hardest. "I don't feel well, so I'm just gonna rest for a while."

Charlie's brow scrunches. You can tell she's about to argue that you'll never get into Heaven if you don't stick to the exercises and something akin to a sudden flash of anger roils in your chest, kicking the dead gray weight of apathy in the teeth. Because how dare she question your commitment, your hopes, your dreams, because you're walking away this one time?

But if this is like life, if this can happen again now, how many more times will it happen? Is it over for you?

Something clicks behind her eyes though as she watches your face. You don't know this, of course, but she's seen the same look on Vaggie's face before. Primarily right after they found each other—Vaggie also fell into a pit of her own pain and trauma, a victim of her new normal until the new normal became preferable.

And, on those days, Vaggie didn't always want to be with Charlie. At some point, Charlie had to learn that it often had nothing to do with her when that happened, too. It helped her understand her father better, too, in the end. She'd needed to reach out to him, but she'd had to let Vaggie come to her when she was ready. Both were valid approaches for different people.

She decides to trust that you'll make it clear to her what you need when you're ready.

"Okay," she says and her kind voice spears your anger with guilt, killing it instantly. You were always good at that, weren't you? Pushing away the people who care. "You have my number. You have everyone's number—well, everyone with a phone anyway. Just let us know if you need something. Anything. Okay?"

You clench your teeth to hold back the burn of tears working its way up your throat. "Okay. Thanks, Charlie," you say and it comes out as sincerely as you mean it, which is good. At least something's gone right today.

"Would you like a hug?" Charlie offers, starting to hold out her arms and then hesitating when she wonders if that could feel like she was pressuring you.

You think about it and decide it's worth a try. "Sure," you say and you step into her arms. She runs even hotter than the other sinners you've met, being Hellborn. It's like cozying up just a couple inches too close to a fireplace, but it doesn't burn. She just feels like the hearth in the place that's swiftly become your home.

She doesn't let go before you're ready, but the second she feels you shift to step back, she lets her arms drop. She gives you a little wave before scampering back down the hall to resume the exercise in the lobby, leaving you to resume your trek to the elevator.

Once you're in the elevator and you've tapped the button for your floor, you fall back against the wall of the lift and run your hands down your face, sighing into your palms.

What you wouldn't give for an on-paper, calculable test that you could fill out and hand to a doctor or psychologist or someone who could tell you with complete certainty what's wrong with your brain and how to fix or endure it. Not only so you could feel better, but so you wouldn't be such a burden to your new friends, your found family. What good were you like this?

(The reality is that the group downstairs is mildly concerned, but otherwise just fine. Charlie can manage the exercise through sheer optimism alone and she has enough bandwidth to do that and be available to you as your friend whenever you need something.

A couple of the others noticed your deflated exit, perhaps because they've once been through similar episodes, and are either just hoping you feel better or trying to come up with some nice gesture to make whenever they see you next. Everything you're worried about or sure you've messed up is a product of your dopamine-deficient brain.)

You pass Angel in the hall on your way to your room as he's heading out for work and he, of course, knows that look. He just hasn't seen it on you before. He offers you a many-armed hug and what he tells you is a Xanax, telling you to text him if you need anything or just want to talk and he'll check on you whenever he's freed from the studio next.

You appreciate his offers and agree to all of it, except the unwrapped, unlabeled pill, which you get rid of once you're in your room. You trust Angel, but you're too paranoid about making whatever you're feeling worse. You barely knew how to deal with it in life, what's it going to be like in Hell?

A stretched-out old hoodie is procured from your closet and you tug it on, smoothing your hair back down as you amble toward the bed. You burrow under the blankets and try to sleep, but of course it doesn't come. You're not tired, after all. You're not even sad. There's just nothing where there's meant to be something, anything in your chest.

Hours pass and, even though you're not helping yourself by lying curled on your side and staring at the wall, you're listless. You can't talk yourself into getting up or getting something to eat. It's even hard to convince yourself to look at your phone, maybe because you've heard it buzz a few times with texts likely asking how you're doing. You don't want to answer them until it's a good answer. Until you can say you're doing better. Anything else is a disappointment, surely, for all involved.

Someone's knuckles rapping against your door makes you jolt, but you sink back into that unsteady feeling of mentally treading water instead of answering. They'll go away if they think you're sleeping. It's probably Charlie anyway, maybe checking on you ahead of dinner. Was it really almost dinnertime?

That was enough to motivate you to extract one arm from beneath the duvet, extend your hand to your phone, and tap the screen to wake it up. It was after dinner. Time was a construct and someone was still at the door, knocking more sharply now.

You bundle your arm back under the bedding, keeping your back to the door. Charlie wasn't that hard of a knocker, so maybe she'd sent Vaggie up to check on you? Husk tended to pound on doors with the side of his fist (and not come near any potentially weepy situation with a ten-foot pole), so it probably wasn't him. It might be Angel, you supposed. Short studio session, if so. Perhaps Pen, but the source of the noise was too high up to be Niffty. She'd barge on in anyway…

"My dear, I can hear you moving around in there, you know," the Radio Demon's voice informs you through the door and your heart nearly stops a second time.

Not Alastor, you sigh inwardly, covering your face in your hands again and trying not to groan lest he hear that, too.

It wasn't that you disliked Alastor. In fact, that wasn't the case at all. You'd been a bit scared of him at first, sure, when you'd initially crossed the threshold of the Hazbin Hotel and who could blame you? He was an imposing figure, someone you'd heard of within days of falling into Hell despite his seven-year sabbatical from the Pentagram.

He was also a prominent public figure from his radio show. That was how you'd first tried to get to know him a little better—you'd started tuning into his broadcasts, getting better at predicting the shrill screams of the souls he tore apart just before they blared through your speakers. You still missed them on occasion and would violently jolt upward from wherever you were sitting or lying while listening, floundering for the volume dial and usually finding it well after you needed it.

Alastor had spotted you do exactly that once during a prerecorded broadcast and, after he'd run the gambit of jokes he could make at your expense, the barrier that had existed between you two since your arrival started to come down. And while the jarring screams hadn't stopped, your radio's volume would inexplicably drop on its own ahead of them from then on. You couldn't come up with any explanation for this that didn't include Alastor's influence, but what may have been a kindness on the Radio Demon's part was directly rivaled by his then-new penchant for bursting out of the speakers in a swirl of shadow to scare you, himself, and ask you for feedback on the day's stories.

Those interruptions had become short bouts of small talk in the hall, a couple of cooperative efforts to cook the crew a delicious dinner, him holding doors for you whenever you happened to be traversing the hotel in the same direction… Little things. Lots of little things that had ended up with you considering him a friend, but who knew how he felt. He probably just thought you were amusing. What made it even worse was that you were beginning to suspect the extra pitter-patter of your heart whenever he showed up was no longer adrenaline anticipating him scaring you, but butterflies.

You poor thing. You weren't sure you could've picked a more surefire way to make a fool of yourself.

"I'm not decent," you finally say in an attempt to deter him, wincing a little at the hoarse quality of your voice. You'd only cried a little during your time in your room that day, but you'd cried hard. Partially in an effort to exorcise some of the bad feelings you were harboring, but it hadn't helped much.

"Well! Under all those blankets, I wouldn't even know, now would I!"

You squeak as you startle so much from hearing his staticky voice right behind your head that you end up in a heap on the floor between the wall and your bed.

By the time you untangle yourself from the duvet and pop your head out of the heap, he's maneuvered himself to the edge of the mattress and is peering over it while lying on his barely existent stomach. A thin, but amused smile curls his lips as his legs idly kick behind him like he's a high school girl at a sleepover.

"Was that necessary?" you ask, any amount of riling up he'd done with his sudden entrance falling away from you as your slump saps it of its vigor in one go.

Alastor's brows rise into his fringe, clearly a little caught off-guard. You can understand why—you usually either laugh or, if he gets you badly enough, clutch your chest and scold him for nearly causing your second death via a heart attack.

He tilts his head at you as his eyes narrow and you can't tell if he's confused or zeroing in on his prey. Honestly, in your current condition, you can't get yourself to care. Maybe he'll put you out of your misery for your cheek.

"Mm, I deemed it so," Alastor says, his luminous red eyes blinking down at you as he leans forward ever-so slightly. He's clearly on edge and you digest this as a display of annoyance, but he's concerned (and doesn't like that he's concerned). He's never seen you like this. "Are you ill, cher? It's quite unlike you to miss dinner."

"In a matter of speaking," you allow as you stand up, brush yourself off, and gather up your duvet into a large wad in your arms. You maneuver it back onto the bed and into a sort of nest you can return to, careful not to jostle or accidentally touch Alastor as he remains partially prone across the foot of the bed and watches you work. Mindful of how little he likely knows about mental health, given his time period, you explain in a few words, "My brain is sick."

He blinks, not sure what to make of what you've said. "Your…brain?" he repeats uncertainly. "How so?" Alastor also deems himself "sick in the head," but he's fairly certain that his brand of insanity isn't what you're referring to in yourself.

You nestle into the duvet, missing how his eyes soften a touch at how small you look right now. You take a deep breath and let it huff out as you force yourself to look at him. If he just wants to torment you a bit, this will expedite him getting it out of his system so you can go back to your staring contest with the wall. If he's not just here to make fun of you…well, then that would be surprising.

"I have depression," you finally admit and you wonder when the last time was that you said those words out loud. Even in life, it was a rare moment when you'd be met with someone who was worth explaining yourself to—most people either didn't understand because they'd never been through it themselves or because they didn't want to understand. Over time, you'd just given up trying to be honest about your struggles because being demeaned or invalidated for them just made you feel worse.

"A what now?" Alastor asks, cocking one brow as he turns to lie on his side with his head propped against one hand. His fluffy ears twitch a little but stay upright, alert, and turned in your direction.

"It's a mood, uh…ailment," you explain, thinking he might not know what a "disorder" is either. You're not familiar enough with what terms people would've used to refer to mental health in his time, so you're overcareful with the words you choose. "My brain chemistry wasn't right in life—my body didn't produce enough of the chemicals that make us feel happy, so I'd get into really bad slumps. Exhausted, sad, sometimes just numb slumps. Apparently that came down here with me, too."

"So…you're in a 'slump'?" he repeats slowly, testing the word you'd used on his tongue.

In moments like this, you find him unbearably cute—from his twitchy ears made restless by the rate of his thoughts to his wide, considering eyes as he tries to absorb what you're telling him. He's a very good listener when he's not in the middle of a bit.

"Yes," you tell him and he relaxes slightly at the confirmation. "I feel dead inside, honestly. Which is funny to say now that I'm actually dead, but it's just… I just don't feel much of anything. Or I do and it just feels empty and hollow. That's kind of worse than feeling sad."

He hums and offers, "A smile is our greatest weapon, dear. We've discussed this."

"Not against this, it's not," you sigh, just waiting now for him to get frustrated or bored with you. "I'm not trying to be difficult, Al, I swear. It's just… I can't fake what I'm feeling. I've tried! I wish I could mask half as well as you can, but it's hard. It takes energy I just don't have in times like this."

Alastor evaluates you with a glance and asks, "Then what is your weapon of choice against these…slumps?"

You tug against the seam of the duvet wrapped around you, all nervous fidgeting. "I never really figured anything out," you admit and it feels like a failure. It feels like because you can't offer him a solution to your problem, your problem must not be a problem. You remember so many exasperated faces looking back at you at times you'd admit the very same. He just looks at you though, clearly thinking. "Sometimes just waiting for it to pass was the answer. I was on medication for it at one point, but it never helped very much. I know I need to eat, but I just feel a bit nauseous when I think about food."

"Then food should be on the docket, certainly, but perhaps not just yet," he muses, sitting up as he continues to regard you. "What else?"

You throw your hands up helplessly. "I'm not sure. I'm sorry," you say. "Maybe I need to go hug Charlie again or something, that didn't fix anything earlier, but it didn't hurt."

Alastor scoffs. "Is my comfort not up to your standards, dear?" he needles you, his tone confident even as his smile wavers slightly.

You blink and shake your head even as you scramble to try and understand what he's implying. "Of course not," you quickly say. "I just… You don't have to do that kind of stuff, you know? I know it's uncomfortable for you and I'd never want to make you uncomfortable."

He chuckles and a mischievous smirk overtakes his features as he leans in and pulls you toward him via the duvet, taking an indulgent look at the blush reddening your face before he tightens the blanket cocoon around you and adds his arms to the equation after. You get the hint not to take your arms out and touch him and you're not even sure you could if you wanted to. You're frozen in place, comically close to a deer in headlights, and you can feel the heat inflaming your cheeks.

It's nice to feel something for the moment.

"Um… Alastor?" you ask, stopped from looking up at him when his pointed chin settles against the crown of your head. "You… Why?"

"Why, what?" he asks, but it's just to put off answering and you have some inkling that this might be the case despite his casual tone.

"Why are you doing this?" you ask, embarrassed by how vulnerable you sound to yourself.

"I can't have you sat here in one of your 'slumps' by yourself, darling," he mused, one of his hands absently tracing over your back.

It takes a lot for you to not lean into the touch, but you're terrified of scaring him off. You're also terrified of overthinking this though, especially as he settles in around you, his larger body usually used to intimidate and tower over others making you feel oddly safe. Then again, even in his most antagonistic moments with you, have you ever felt in danger?

"Why not?" you ask softly.

"You ask a surprising number of questions over something so simple as this," Alastor notes and his words cause a puff of warm breath to stir your hair. You shiver a little and he chuckles.

"But it's not simple for you," you murmur, letting yourself relax a bit as he impatiently tugs you closer to fit you against his chest. He's certainly not as gentle as Charlie, but you imagine he's far less practiced in this sort of thing than she is. It hits you harder because you know he's trying. And perhaps because you—silly, silly you—have a tragic little crush on the Radio Demon. "And… Well, I appreciate it. That's all."

Alastor hums and admits, "It's simpler than expected. And not unwelcome." You feel his chin shift against your crown, like he might be looking down at you, as he asks, "Is it helpful? Or is dear Charlotte's attention still preferable?"

You have to bite your lips a little to keep from smirking—that sort of tone can only indicate that he's jealous. Once again, you find him unbearably cute and it'll likely one day lead to your second untimely demise once he realizes how you feel.

"Yes, it's helpful. And preferable," you confess and you can almost feel his chest puff with pride. "This is really nice. Thank you."

"You're most welcome, dear," he says, glancing down and watching you cave to fatigue and fall asleep as he feels your weight settle further into his chest.

Alastor chuckles and gives you time to fully settle into a more restful state before he shifts your body around and situates you on your bed. He'd first considered staying, but figures having something for you to eat at the ready when you wake is a better use of his time. At least that's the reason he gives himself to go.

The truth is he can't remember the last time he honest to goodness comforted someone. There's a tickle in the back of his brain, a voice asking if he's losing his edge. Asking if you'll see him now as less than he is, which (in his mind) is a sadistic, cannibalistic overlord and nothing more.

He can't deny though that he's savoring the lingering warmth from your body on his coat. And, as much as he doesn't understand these "slumps" or the depression you referenced, he didn't like seeing you look so sad.

And he supposes if he must occasionally soften his sharp edges a bit to help keep his favorite guest present and smiling, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #asexual alastor #soft alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #cw depression #cw mental health

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parfaitblogs · 4 months ago

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loml ❀ s. reid x reader

in which even six years apart isn’t too much time for spencer to come see you.

pairing: ex!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: angst/comfort sort of tags: that freaky shit (soul crushing angst). a lot of nothing. approximately the time morgan left the bau (it's mentioned). spoilers for 5x9 (‘100’) if you haven't watched it yet... fade to black. word count: 1.2k a/n: heyyyy… enjoy my the contents of my sad brain lol. this can kinda be a waiting room pt. 2 if you squint. i’m super sick right now so here’s a draft i wasn’t going to post until august (although it’s july 31 so is it technically august?) because i have no energy to write rn. whoops. enjoyy

Your mother once told you she doesn't think you can be just friends with some people.

They're either there to be in your life forever, souls so deeply woven together that you have to be more than friends. Or they're fleeting, and your lives will line up for a short enough period of time that they'll impact you, and then you'll never see them again.

You wished Spencer Reid was the latter.

Not at first. No, at first he was the man you were going to marry. You were certain of it. Discussing your wedding with your friends because it was going to happen, and you were picturing him at the altar. You had fantasised what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life so many times, dedicating so many hours to the concept of it, that when you lost it, you mourned the loss of it as much as you mourned the relationship.

But Spencer Reid was the former. Unfortunately so. Losing so many years to a man you didn't even speak to anymore, because you just can't get over it. Can't get over how you could give someone so much of you, and they will still throw it all away for a narrative they've made up in their mind. Can't get over the narrative he made up of you.

It was justifiable, you supposed. His boss had just lost his (ex) wife because of the job. It was tough for everyone on the team. You didn't think it was so bad he would freak out as much as he did, though.

Because in his mind you were next. He was going to lose you as well. And even that stupidly large brain of his couldn't see how ridiculous that sounded. He refused to listen to you when all he could hear was the screaming in his head of you being next, and the statistics of female abductions. Statistics that were no different between the day before the incident, and the day he broke up with you. They were just louder to him.

An achingly long amount of time had passed from the last time you spoke to him. A pathetic meeting you had requested two months after the breakup, because your life was falling apart and maybe seeing him would make it better.

It didn't.

You wondered if you'd still be shedding tears over him if you hadn't met him that night.

You heard your name, and so your head lifted from your lap. Right, you thought, bitterly. He was here. In your apartment. The same one he used to sleep at, for days on end.

You knew triggers like the back of your hand. They were usually things that made sense. Loud noises, blood, anniversaries. Could you justify your trigger being a whole person?

You hadn't known he was a trigger until that evening, when he had showed up at your apartment door with a bouquet of flowers that you didn't really want, and an insultingly pretty smile. You had broken down, right there in your doorway, crumpling to the floor in a hyperventilating, miserable heap.

He had held you, and frustratingly so, it helped. He didn't speak when he had done it, until you were calmer and were muttering apologies to him, embarrassment replacing the upset.

At which he shushed you. You listened.

"Why are you here?" you broke the silence that followed his calling of your name, voice shaky.

He exhaled audibly. "I wanted to see you."

"No, Spencer," you sniffled. "You don't get to come over with flowers just because you wanted to see me. Why are you here?"

He fell silent, and you wished you could crawl into his brain to see what he was thinking. You presumed a million things.

"Morgan left," he said, quietly, and you felt your mouth go dry.

"Oh."

Then; your eyebrows furrowed. Because did he really have no one to go to? You stared back at him for a few seconds, and for a moment, you let yourself forget about the weight between you two. Staring into his eyes was an easy way to forget that, apparently. It was comforting for you, but perhaps uncomfortable for him.

Because he cleared his throat, and adjusted his position on the couch. "I didn't know where to go. And you said if I needed anything, you would be there and—"

"—People say that as a courtesy, Spencer," you breathed out.

"I know," he said, quickly. "But I really needed someone, and I genuinely didn't know where else to go."

You couldn't slam the door in his face even if you wanted to. Because now you were registering more than just your own emotions. The red rimming his eyes, the dusting of pink on his nose and above his lips.

So, you nodded your head. "Okay. Come here," you said, opening your arms, and took him in between them. Albeit hesitantly. On both ends.

This time he broke down, and you let him. His face pressed into the crook of your neck, your fingers entangled in his curls, scratching at his scalp in the best soothing motion you could.

He cried until he had dehydrated his body, and your arms had begun to cramp from the position they were in. When he pulled back, your heart cracked a little more at the sight, his face wet with tears that stuck his hair to his cheeks, that you cleaned up.

"I miss you."

You froze. He did as well, but for an entirely different reason. At the idea that he had said it. Not you. Him. The words decorated the air and hung there for minutes as you fell silent.

Finally; "You don't mean that."

"Yes I do," his response was quick, as if expecting you to deny him of his own feelings.

"You're upset, and I'm comforting you. You miss Morgan. Not me. Transference," you mumbled, hands dropping from his face.

"This isn't transference."

"Spencer."

You were right. You knew it in the way his shoulders sagged in defeat, and his lips parted as if to say something, only to clamp shut in mental defiance.

"Maybe," he finally said, quietly. "But I do still miss you."

"It's been five years," you answered. He nodded his head in agreement. You exhaled. "I miss you too, Spencer."

He lips twitched, but never reached a smile. "You aren't seeing anyone, then?" he asked.

"You can deduce that, I'm sure."

You were right, he could, and he nodded his head, lips reaching a smile, albeit sadly. "Yeah. Me neither."

"I also figured," you said. "You would've gone to your girlfriend if you had one."

"I would've," he nodded his head, laughing a breathy, awkward laugh. "Instead I went to my ex-girlfriend."

"You did." More uncomfortable silence, before you let out a sigh. Again. "Movie?"

"What?"

"Do you want to watch a movie?" you say the full sentence, a little slower than what was probably necessary. You knew him well enough to know that he hated talking about his feelings, he was an awful communicator. Had been, your brain screams at you. He could've changed.

It seemed he hadn't, because he nodded his head, a smaller, more genuine smile painted his lips. "Yeah. Okay."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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suplicyy · 1 month ago

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Do you think Kuroo would like his s/o to call him Tetsurou or Kuroo? And how would he react if she used his first name? Both if they were in a relationship or not yet, just curious about your headcannons on this!!!!

Kuroo Tetsurou x Fem!Reader

— Tags/Genre: Fluff | Headcanons

— Warnings: None!

I think even before you guys got into a relationship, Kuroo wouldn't mind if you called him Tetsurou.

Quite the opposite, he would really like it!!

I don't see him as someone who cares much about people using his first name, but it can also be a bit strange if it is someone he doesn't know.

But on the other hand, he would be very respectful towards people, only calling them by their first name if he is close to them and is aware that the person is okay with it.

If you gave him permission, he would be more than happy to call you by your first name.

And he would also be delighted if you called him by his first name.

There is something about you saying his name that enchants him, it seems so natural coming out of your mouth, but it leaves him with butterflies in his stomach whenever he hears you calling him.

He would love to hear you say his name, but you can expect side effects when that happens!

Cheeks painted in a slight reddish tone, his heart racing, almost feeling like it's going to jump out of his chest, the shine in his eyes and the lack of eye contact (he really thinks he will faint if he looks at you right now).

He finds everything about you so perfect, and one of those things is your voice.

You talking about your favorite things, humming a song you're listening to, calling him whenever you see something cool or cute, he'd never get tired of hearing the melody that comes out of your lips.

And if he already gets this way when you call him by his first name, imagine when you start using nicknames.

He would fall more and more in love with you!!!

— A/N: There are some pending requests of yours that I haven't done yet, so I'm sorry if you're waiting too long for this!!😭

I'm almost done writing something related to MHA, which will officially go on my profile as another work I'll write about!! So when I finish this one, I'll move forward with your other requests!🌷🌷

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #hq x reader #hq #hq fluff #haikyuu x fem!reader #haikyuu x female reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou

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11cupids-tarot11 · 4 months ago

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What can help your dreams ★Manifest☆ ?

1 -> 3

︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

HAVE YOU SUBSCRIBED TO MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL YET?! (It would mean the world to me♡) Check out my Silent 😶 Pick-A-Piles!

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♡ Cupids Master-List

♡ Want a private reading with me?

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Tarot Deck used: Garbage Pail Kids

Oracle Deck used : The Roast Iconic

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pile 1- The Devil, Six of Coins in Reverse, The Hanged Man

Oracle cards- "Billionaire: Are you hoarding wealth to fuel your King or Queen Baby dreams? Do not pass Go, do not collect a million dollars, don't even go to jail or pay taxes- think about doing some good and using your hoard to end WORLD HUNGER ALREADY!"

"Black Square: Apparently, you are only down for doing the bare minimum during an incredibly significant time to stand up and advocate for human rights. Drawing this card reminds you that your actions need to not be just performative, they must be based in real knowledge and include follow-through, both online and IRL (in real life). You don't have to be on the front lines, but at this point in history, you can't be silent either."

Hi my pile 1's 😭 I feel like it's been forever I hate being away from my blog for too long cause I start to miss y'all literally lol.

So anyways for your reading today I feel like Spirit is wanting to draw attention to maybe some addictions, self sabotage is what I heard while shuffling the cards. I feel this heavy energy of someone purposely messing up their own blessings in a way I feel like maybe someone's stuck in this very heavy energy but also not really doing anything about it? Like maybe you know something's not good for you, maybe it's a connection or even a job that's tiring you out, it's something along those lines but you just can't stop it, you know? I heard someone needs to do an energy cleanse! I heard take some time off. Maybe someone's drowning themselves in something like studying too much, there's something about over doing something. Someone could have very curly hair here.

So I'm hearing here someone should take the time off and do something fun, relax a little. I think there's a message here also of feeling like you haven't done enough of something and you're obsessing about it mentally a lot and spirit is saying just take a little break from it and endulg in something else, something that makes you happy and makes you feel like you, you know? Even if it's just taking a walk while listening to your favorite music or maybe reading your favorite book and watching your favorite movie, you know? So with the six of coins here I'm also getting a message of like you've worked really hard already and you've done a great job honestly it's okay to rest and not be perfect already already, Rome wasn't built in a day I'm hearing!

The hanged man is just confirmation you've definitely been making yourself sick and stuck by obsessing over this thing. I also feel like maybe you're stuck because spirit is wanting you to see things from a different perspective, like in my garbage pail kid tarot card Wacky Jacky is hanging and all stuck in a tree but while she's stuck she realizes she sees the world in a whole different perspective and it's then new ideas come to her. Approach your goal from a new angle!

I feel like someone here is also someone very important with a very hard position and that might be why you work so hard, you have a lot of pressure on you maybe. Take what resonates!

Hope you enjoyed this reading! Let me know, I love you and take care ♡

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pile 2- Queen of Wands Reversed, Seven of Wands Reversed and Three of Cups.

Oracle cards- "Troll: Are you a Necessary Evil? Do you feel you must play Devil's Advocate? Or are you someone who hates themselves so much they feel they have to try to get others to feel the same way? If you answered "yes" to one or more of these questions, please seek help or therapy, or get a hobby."

"Bitch: Are you being a Bitch, or just making sure they can't take advantage of you? Stand up for yourself, but make sure you don't steamroll anyone in the process. Do no harm, but take no shit."

Hi pile 2's, hope you're doing amazing 🤩

So right off the bat I'm picking up shy energy lol, someone who's maybe more reserved or introverted. I don't want to say basically Spirit thinks you should be loud or more outgoing but I definitely think you'll go through a time period of weird energy and out of the ordinary situations happening that are forcing you out of your comfort zone. You might not get any more extroverted but I definitely do see branching out might help, sitting with your close friends and just letting yourself let loose or just enjoy the company. You might be someone who people look at and not get the big picture right away, like they have lots of accusations about you but you're kind of closed off so these accusations aren't 100% true because there's more to you than people know, you're just not the type to go and give yourself away that easily. You might be someone who prefers to keep a very close knit group of friends, I heard something about trust issues.

You could be petite, someone who doesn't look like they're very strong and that's what surprises everyone when you finally do show them you are indeed strong. You can be loud and extroverted too I think it's a choice to really be in this shell of yours, maybe it's what's comfortable and that's exactly the problem, when we're too comfortable we don't see the point in changing. Like why fix it if it isn't broken? But you hold great significance, you're just a significant person to the universe and I'm not even sure if you're aware but you are lol.

It's crazy because I'm picking up mixed messages lol, with the Queen of Wands in reverse it makes me feel like someone here is very down and unsure about themselves, needs to take some me time and get away from socializing but with the Three of Cups someone here needs to "stop being alone so much" is how I channeled it, advising you to go out more with the people you love and celebrate, have a good time and just have fun so take what resonates as you know yourself best and what applies to your situation.

With the seven of Wands I'm getting a message of someone who's stressed, you maybe have felt very tired, over worked maybe, even dealing with certain responsibilities or relationship makes us feel tired and all worn out so take this how it resonates. You're on the brink of giving up, maybe you felt like it's not worth it or simply just can't find results you've been wanting to see, maybe this thing is literally killing you because Spirit is stressing you drop it enough to take the stress off you. I wouldn't advise anyone to just give up, but Spirit used such words as "drop it" like maybe the thing you're supposed to drop isn't serving you and that's why it's making you feel so bad. I'm just hearing Spirit even ask if you think all of this is worth it? This is something tough that's been bothering you, it could even be as simple as negative thoughts with all of the wands energy here, I think this is a group in their head a lot always trying to hold themselves accountable and very motivated to just do right. I heard a message that it's hard coming up for new creative endeavors because of all of the negativity in your thoughts holding you back, this energy is blocking your ideas. It's like you vs you almost, I think you have the power to help your dreams manifest all on their own just with your thoughts alone so keep a check for your energy, watch who you share your energy with because it's important and powerful. You're powerful I heard!

I hope you find this helpful! Take care angelz love you! ♡

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pile 3- Seven of Cups, The Chariot and King of Wands.

Oracle Cards- "Black Square: Apparently, you are only down for doing the bare minimum during an incredibly significant time to stand up and advocate for human rights. Drawing this card reminds you that your actions need to not be just performative, they must be based in real knowledge and include follow-through, both online and IRL (in real life). You don't have to be on the front lines, but at this point in history, you can't be silent either."

"Red Flag: No matter how often you try to bleach the red flags white, they only turn back to red. You have been warned- now PULL ANOTHER CARD!"

"Cult Leader: You are not a guru, a Timelord, or a demigod. You are an egomaniac who needs minions so you can feel like an authority to compensate for your own feelings of inferiority. Grow up!"

Hi pile 3! Hope you're having a fantastic day where you are!

So right away I'm picking up a message of not seeing the bigger picture, this pile feels more like a "How to Manifest more quicker" lol. I'm hearing this very slow moving energy, someone refusing to move on to the next chapter though you might be aware it's time to even but I'm getting a sense of fear. Even if you are unaware of these changes there's still so much anxiety and fear surrounding you at these times because the universe is basically forcing you to move lol! Move or be moved I'm hearing.

So overall I feel like someone in this pile might have lots of distractions, someone might have adhd and a hard time concentrating on tasks. Spirits drawing your attention these times and reminding you to stay focus.

With the Chariot card I feel like there's some movement here that needs to happen, you need to take action. I think that's the best way to help your manifestations right now, maybe someone here even forget exactly what they were manifesting and Spirit is like "Uhh HELLO? DO YOU REMEBER THAT THING??" lol. I heard someone's just been away from the job a little too long, I even get from the Seven of Cups it might've been you were distracted with something else that just sparked your attention better, but all that glitters isn't gold!

So I think you're working on being in this King of Wands energy, someone who is very productive, knows what they want, speaks up about anything, rather it's an idea they have or just wanting authority. I feel like a few of you even might know exactly what this is, I feel like a few of you might not even have a specific dream you want to manifest just clicking on the reading for fun lol but there's still a secretive message here I think you'll understand as you apply it to your situation.

Spirit is asking you to maybe think about the roots you want to plant and start from there, stay true to your craft and perspective and be committed.

I hope you enjoyed this reading! I love you, see you soon ❤️ ★

#pac tarot #pick a card #spirituality #tarot #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarot love reading #tarot messages #18+ tarot #pac love reading #tarotcommunity #tarot blog #tarot beginner #spiritual advisor #spiritualgrowth #spiritual awakening #astrology

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 3 months ago

Text

Shirt On.

Pairing/Au: Sub!Joel X soft dom f!reader, no outbreak

Words count: 4645

Rating: + 18, MDNI, NSFW. I’m not joking with this one, if you’re a minor please stay away from it.

Summary: Joel getting pegged by you while you wear his flannel shirt. That’s it, that’s the fic. LOL

I know it's not everyone's cup of tea but if you decided to stay, the rest is under the cut.

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

Warnings: pov second person, no use of y/n, smut with feelings, established relationship, established dom/sub dynamic, sub!Joel, soft dom f!reader, reader wears jeans and a top (and of course Joel’s flannel), has breasts and vagina but apart from that no other specific description of her is given, pegging, use of a double strap-on, mention of plugs, lube, edging (m receiving) , orgasm control, oral (f receiving with the strap-on), mention of anal play, squirting, a little bit of nipples play (m receiving), ass slapping, swearing, dirty language, mention of threesome, mention of nipple clamps, mention of Joel conservative environment as a child (? I don’t know, i imagined that), a whole lot of fantasies made explicit, pet names (mostly good boy, honey, baby), use of “mommy” once, Joel is so soft and needy in this one, reader is cheeky, brief Tommy appearance, mention of alcohol consumption, I think that’s all but if I realize I forgot something I'll add it right away.

I love sub!Joel so much and and I've been thinking about writing it for a long time so here we go!

It’s my first sub!Joel fic and pegging fic, I’m so nervous about it, I really hope it’s good and you will enjoy it.

One inspiration for this fic was this work by @milla-frenchy : Her, if you haven't read it yet and you love sub!Joel RUN to do it because it's amazing and she’s so talented.

The other one was the sex toy described lol

As usual, English is not my first language, no beta and no proofreading so it’s all my fault, I apologize for any mistake.

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated, I would love to have some feedback on this (please, be kind) !

Thank you so much for reading❤️

Joel is unloading materials at a construction site when he feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket.

He puts the brick pack down and rubs his hands on his jeans, takes out his phone and unlocks it. There is an unread message from you.

“Baby, I’ll wait for you at home at 6. Don’t be late”

He quickly types a reply and sends it to you. “Yes, ma’am.”

He smiles.

He had never done anything like this before, but with you everything was different right away.

——————-

When he first met you, at Tommy’s birthday party, he thought you were a wonderful creature.

You were talking to someone he doesn’t even remember unlike your bright smile, your contagious laugh, your breathtaking body and your impossible-to-miss charm.

The pair of jeans you were wearing hugged your hips and waist perfectly and your tight top highlighted the curve of your tits so deliciously that his mouth started watering instantly at the sight.

You turned to him probably sensing his eyes on you and your eyes weren’t even close to be intimidated or embarrassed.

You held his gaze fiercely and he knew in that moment that you were going to be troubles in the best possible way.

He had always been quite successful with women but he suddenly felt like someone destined to remain on the bench who has to compete with the team's star player.

The challenge excited him anyway, he decided he had to find out something about you.

He entered the house and found Tommy busy opening a bottle of wine. He asked him who you were and he replied with a smirk, "Maria's coworker. Why do you ask? Do you fancy her?”

“I don’t even know her!” he retorted.

“Yeah but you think she's hot” he stated raising one of his thick eyebrows and looking at him with a sardonic grin.

Joel snorted “I knew I shouldn't have told you anything”

Tommy bursted into laughter and said nothing else.

And he didn't do anything, there was no need.

Joel couldn't imagine it but you know exactly what you want and you know how to take it.

He was at the buffet table taking a beer when you approached tantalizing him “You think you’re going to ask me for my phone number or not?”

“Why?” He tried to play it cool and nonchalantly.

“Well you've been staring at my ass all night, so… either you want to know where I bought these jeans or you like my ass, cowboy, what do you say?” you waited, delighted by the state of confusion you had caused in him.

He hadn’t expected it in the slightest, no one had ever been so cheeky with him.

And then you added “The thing is… I like yours too, so we could do something about it”.

Of course you sneaked off the party and you immediately jumped at each other in Joel’s truck after finding a fairly isolated spot along the road, sloppy kissing and hands everywhere like you were both starving. You haven't even made it to his house.

Of course you ended up sharing contacts because you just had had the most incredible sex and wanted more.

Many dates and many months later you moved in together.

The harmony between you two was strong from day one and never changed.

You know how much he needs to have his coffee in the morning, he knows how you love your eggs, you know he always fail to put his dirty laundry into the basket in the laundry room, he knows he’s the one that has to take care of the garden because you have absolutely zero skills and you kill the cacti too.

The domesticity between the two of you always feels like the most precious gift.

You talked many times about what you like in bed and you have confessed to Joel that you love to be the dominant part in the relationship.

Joel had no difficulty accepting and embracing it, he is happy that you are the one taking the reins.

He is always in charge at work, his construction company is doing really good and has several employees, he is used to being the boss and making decisions all day long. His mind is sometimes so tired of that that coming home to you and let you decide for him allows him to shake off all the stress that is weighing him down.

“This is actually good for my own peace of mind” he told you “I feel free”

You have set rules and boundaries and you talked throughly about what you want and don’t want from this dynamic.

You both respect and understand each other. You love each other like there’s no tomorrow, Joel told you he has never been this happy before.

And experimenting with him is the most exciting things in the world. He’s prone to it, even more than you thought at the beginning.

So when you brought up to him that you would love to try some anal play he accepted straight away.

He told you that he had done it before, he had never been on the receiving end but he was more than happy to do it with you.

You’ve proceeded by step, experimenting with your fingers, while he fucked you senselessly like you wanted to, then it was Joel himself who suggested trying a plug.

“You sure about that, babe?” you asked “I'm happy that you want to indulge with me in this but I wouldn't want you to do it just for me”

“No,” he assured you, with the sweetest smile “I’m not doing this just for you, even though you know how much I like it when you’re satisfied. I love what you do to me with your fingers and I think I’d like to… um… try something more.”

“okay then, let’s dig into it” you replied with a little smirk.

He grabbed your laptop and you searched online together, sitting on your couch with your head resting on his shoulder as you explored site after site giggling together in total complicity.

You can’t forget the thrilled look on his face as you decided to order a trio of plugs in different sizes.

And you can’t forget the moans he made the first time you tried it.

The trust you’ve built has made it truly special. Joel knows he can abandon himself to you, you’ll never do anything he doesn’t want and you’ll always take care of him as much as he does with you.

Joel’s protective side makes him sensitive and attentive to your needs. For everyone else he’s just a somewhat grumpy, reserved man and a tireless worker, but for you Joel is the most thoughtful man you’ve ever known.

He is amazed by the patience and delicacy you put into getting him where you want him to be, and you’re completely fulfilled by how much of a good sub he can be.

Sometimes he gets denied for days and it’s all about you coming repeatedly on his tongue or he’s only allowed to watch as you masturbate, other times you ask to be fucked several times a day or you demand to see your tall, broad, strong and gorgeous man bent over on your bed while you play with his ass.

Every session was pure bliss, he was a little bit flustered to try the biggest plug but he ended up getting an orgasm that was out of this world.

And now he's ready to try the strap on, which makes you incredibly wet just thinking about it.

As with the plugs, you chose together which one to buy and once you decided you were both so excited that you allowed him to fuck you and come inside you after a whole week of chastity, edging and ruined orgasms.

___________

Joel leaves work at 5:30, gets in his car and curses all the way home against the traffic that threatens to make him late.

He parks in the driveway and opens the door “I’m here, my love” he quickly says as he puts his keys on the cabinet in the hall.

“I'm in the kitchen, babe, come here”

Joel rushes to your command and the sight of you leaves him speechless.

You're standing in the middle of the kitchen wearing only his flannel shirt left open and the strap-on you both chose. The leather straps wrap around your hips and a large dildo stands out between your legs.

“It came in the mail today,” you smile at him, extremely pleased by the rapt expression painted all over his face.

“Oh fuck, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen” he breathe, his eyes feasting on your body.

He loves it when you wear his clothes, he loves seeing you walk around the house in his shirts and wearing his boxers and he loves it even more when you let him watch you masturbate in just those.

He tries to get closer to you and you raise one of your arm stopping him “no, wait, not yet. Look at me a little longer” and saying that you take the big cock in your hand and begin to stroke it slowly “talk to me darling, tell me more about how it seems to you”

“It's big,” he gulps “and it looks great on you.”

You have chosen a type that stimulates both of you, so you have a dildo inside you. With each stroke you feel it penetrate a little deeper, widening your walls.

“What else?” you coo “What would you like to do now? Would you like to suck it?”

“Yes, my love, I would like that, please.”

He’s fixed on your hand moving on the fake cock.

“Eyes on me, baby, what else?” you gently scold him

His look shifts immediately on yours as he answers you huskily “I wish you would fuck me with that. Please”

You move closer to him, without stopping touching the dildo, you raise your hand to gently stroke his raven curls lightly streaked with silver “Oh, I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby, I’m going to split you open and you’re going to be the best boy, right?”

He closes his eyes, abandoning himself to your caresses and he whispers “yes”

You tug his hair “louder, babe”

“Yes, my love”

“Perfect. Kneel down for me, now”

He immediately goes down, in front of you, on the kitchen floor.

“Take this cock, babe, make it all nice and wet” you purr

You put your hand back in his hair and bring him closer to it.

You can see a sparkle in his gaze as he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue to lick the tip.

You feel a shiver of pleasure run through your body seeing him like this, malleable like clay in your hands, on his knees, hungry, totally involved in what you were doing, so endearing and beautiful.

“More, baby, show me how good you are”

He opens his mouth wide and bends over the cock starting to make it disappear into his mouth, his lower lip trembling slightly.

He raise a hand to grip the base but you slap it and say firmly “take it fully in your mouth first”

He frowns and he gag a little when the tip bumps on the back of his throat but immediately gather his control back.

“good boy, now suck. You can use your hand on mommy’s cock”

He looks up at you in gratitude as he circles the base with his fingers and begins to suck greedily.

The entire length is now coated in his saliva as he moves up and down on it continuing to suck and every time he goes down, the dildo inside you hits a deeper spot making you moan just as much as he does. His big hand is all wrapped around the silicone cock, the other sunk into your hip above the leather straps and his grunts are like the cherry on top.

You continue to praise him and he’s enraptured by your gaze and you can clearly spot his cock hardening in his pants, it strains against the hem of his work jeans.

“You like that huh? So good for me”

He swirls his tongue around the tip and goes down flat on the underline and swirls around again taking the mushroom between his luscious lips and sucking on it.

He’s still fully dressed and yet you could swear you could come just by seeing him all engrossed in sucking your big fat dildo.

His nose hits the end of the cock bumping into your clit as he tries to put it all back in his mouth, gagging around it, trails of saliva slide down his chin, your thumb smear it all over his jawline “Just like that, baby, keep going for me”

Your fingers are tangle in his curls and you push him down the length arching your back, making him gasp for hair, his eyes start watering a little but he keeps sucking. Pressure is building on your clit at every brush of the base on it and the other end sink deep into you all slick and soaking wet with your juices. He’s basically masturbating you sucking the dildo.

You’re about to give in and you convulsively yelp “don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, Joel”

He sucks at an even faster pace, stroking the base and lingering on the tip every time he comes up.

You toss your back and shut your eyes closed, overwhelmed by your first orgasm washing over you, panting hard and feeling you knees buckle.

Joel continue to suck quietly until you regain the ability to speak.

“You’ve been very good, darling” you coo “get up for me now”

He let the dildo slide out of his mouth with a lewd pop and stands up and you order: “turn your back and put your hands on the table for me.”

He does so and you lean back and wrap your arms around his waist. You close your eyes and enjoy his warmth as you try to calm down.

“Well, we have discovered a new talent in you”

“I- yes” he mutters

“Don’t be shy baby, there’s nothing wrong with sucking a dick” and you leave a trail of kisses on his back

“You’re right” His voice is uncertain, as if he had just realized how much he liked it.

You move to look him in the eyes “it’s all good, honey? do you want us to stop here?”

He shakes his head.

“Words, baby”

“No. No, my love”

“Good. You know you can always use the safe word, right?”

“Yes. Yes, I know… I was just thinking…”

“What, honey? Talk to me” you stroke his arm trying to reassure him, peering into his big brown puppy eyes.

Joel grew up in a conservative environment and you know that he distanced himself from it as soon as he could and he is certainly sure he can tell you what he would like, you decide but you always allow him to express himself.

Every now and then a kind of reticence resurfaces in him, and it melts your heart the way he tries to fight against the beliefs that were put in his head as a child.

“Do you think we could try a threesome sometime?”

You giggle lightly caressing his cheek “Sure, we could do that. Why were you so afraid to ask me?”

“I didn't want you to think that you're not longer enough for me. I mean you’re perfect, absolutely perfect and I love you and-”

“Babe” you interrupt him “it’s okay. It’s your fantasy and I find it hot too. Would you like to do it with another guy?”

“Yes…uhm..I would”

“Mmmm God, that would be so hot, you trying a big meaty cock…deep in your throat”

He blushes instantly at your words and the corners of his mouth curl into a smile “I- yeah, I think I would love to try”

“I would masturbate while you do it and then I would let you fuck my cunt while the other guy’s cock would go deep in my mouth. How does it sounds?” You lewdly whisper to him.

“Oh fuck- yes” he reply, eyes wide and pupils dilated.

“You’re such a dirty boy, I love that. How do you get so good at sucking anyway?” you ask him mischievously

“Well, I learned something by watching you, you’re the best at it.” he states with a proud tone.

“Mmm you’re such a flatterer. Now shut up and let me play” you tenderly scold him kissing his lips “unbutton your pants”

His hands fiddle with the button and the zipper and as soon as he’s done you order “put your hands back on the table”

You leisurely slide one hand into his pants and make room in his boxer to reach his already hard cock.

You flick the tip with your fingertips gathering his precum and you slide over his length wetting it, you can feel his breathing thickening and a sigh of relief leaves his mouth.

You pump him until he reach the edge, throbbing in your fingers, then you stop, a muffled sound of impatience run through his lips.

You smile, your gaze chained to his “keep calm, love”

You take a small remote control out of the flannel shirt pocket and show it to him. “Look what I have”

He mumble “oh my fucking God”, his voice cracks a little and your lips curl, even more pleased “I forgot about it” he admits.

“Yeah, it’s going to be fun” you giggle “let’s go to our bedroom now”

He immediately follows you and once in the room you lean on the piece of furniture in front of the bed and you demand “take off your clothes”

He does it slowly as he knows you like it, first boots and socks that he throws in a corner, then his jeans that he leaves lying on the floor and finally the shirt, that also ends up on the floor at the foot of the bed. With every part of his body revealed to your eyes you lick your lips thinking that you will never get used to seeing such beauty. His broad shoulders, his wide chest, tiny freckles scattered on his skin, his narrow waist, his slightly soft tummy, the thin line of hair that ends up hidden by his boxers, his meaty thighs… you can never get enough of him.

He remains in a pair of boxers, standing in front of you. “Good boy, take them off and lie down on the bed,”

There is sweetness in his gaze, trust and a desire to abandon himself, at this point you can read him like an open book.

You're taking off the flannel you’re wearing when he looks at you pleadingly “Can you please keep it on, honey?”

“You like seeing me like that?” You smirk

“I do. You’re so damn sexy”

“Okay, baby, I can do that” you grant and he smiles gratefully.

Once he's lying down you take the lube from the nightstand and then you climb on the bed right next to him, your fake cock still shiny with his saliva.

His naked body is still and waiting for you, and you take his cock back in your hand “you did so well for me”

“I’m glad, my love, thank you” he whispers

You pinch his nipples with your other hand, pulling and twisting them between your fingertip, teasing them while you keep stroking his lenght slowly.

“God, I love your nipples, baby, they drive me wild, so pink and turgid and delicious.”

You run your tongue over his chest sucking them into your mouth.

“I think we should try nipple clamps sometime, would you like that?” you say before taking back one of his buds between your lips.

“Oh - God, yes. Yes, please, my love”

His moans go straight to your cock-covered clit, you feel it hardening against the soft and smooth silicone.

You know perfectly well that he is much stronger than you and could easily tip you over onto the bed and trap you with his weight, but he won't.

This awareness makes you feel powerful and the mere thought of how far you can go with him and still be safe makes you dripping wet.

You take him back to the edge again and then you stop, his cock is throbbing and the tip is angry red and leaking profusely.

His hips slightly twitch a couple of times and you can tell how desperate he is for a release but he knows that he can’t come until you say so.

You start pumping him again after a couple of minutes and you can hear the stifled moans crowded in his throat as you take him on the edge again.

He’s such a mess of sweat and cries and glassy eyes but he’s managing to remain still like you ordered to.

“I can’t believe I have such a good boy all for me” you purr “You want my big cock in you? You want that?”

“Yes, please, my love. Please” he whines.

“Turn around for me like the good boy you are”

He turns around and you take the lube squeezing a good amount into your hand, spreading it all over his hole, caressing it gently and penetrating it with two of your fingers.

He cries “please”

“Don't be impatient” you say firmly slapping his ass cheek, leaving a red mark.

“I’m sorry” his voice is hoarse and deep and you can hear his struggle in every single word which is such a turn on, he wants you so bad.

He’s so excited and needy that he basically cries and the sound of his voice reverberate into your ears like a music.

“So sweet, my big boy crying for cock”

“I want- please. I want it so much, pl- please” he’s bucking his hips against the duvet and you slap his ass again.

“Behave, baby” you order “stay still for me”

You linger a little longer in his hole, moving your fingers slowly.

“You have the sexiest ass I’ve ever seen, you know that? Is it ready for me?”

“Yes. It’s all yours, love, please take it” he begs.

When you finally place your body behind him spreading his ass cheeks with your hands and poking at his entrance with the tip, he leaves out the loudest groan you’ve ever heard from him.

The inside dildo is still hitting you the right way and in this position you can feel it even deeper than before.

“You okay?”

“Yes - oh - yes, love it”

“Good” you whisper caressing his hips “we’re almost there, baby. You look so gorgeous like that, Joel. So fucking gorgeous”

You keep pushing the cock inside him, until you’re balls deep inside and you start moving, thrusting into him while the other end thrust into you.

“You’re doing so good, Joel, so good for me”

He whimpers while you brush against his prostate, lifting his butt to feel you even more, you could swear you’ve never seen anything more intoxicating.

You take the small remote that you placed on the bed and turn on the vibration at the lower setting, just enough to add that little buzz into the already overwhelming sensations you’re both experimenting.

Joel lets out a “fuck” so deep and hoarse, you feel him clenching around the cock and the vibration hits your clit and your inside too and you almost lose it.

You take a deep breath and focus on him.

“Just like that, you love taking this cock, don’t you?”

“Yes OH GOD YES - I think - I think I’m almost c-”

“Sssh not yet, baby, don’t be to greedy, hold it until I say it”

You pump harder and his body tenses, you can see every muscle in his back flex while he tightens his hands on the sheets underneath trying with all his might to hold back, his face leaning in profile sinking into the mattress, little drops of sweat beading on his skin, his plumped lips open in search of air letting out moan after moan.

He’s almost incoherent by now, just babbling please and fuck and begging you to let him come and you can feel yourself getting right on the edge.

You get out of him to change positions as you fear of losing control because of the vibrating dildo inside you slapping at your walls “Turn over on your back for me,”

He turns around immediately, you make him lift his legs and rest them on your shoulders and then you go back inside him with a single thrust “OH FUCK” he wails “fuckfuckfuck”

“Yeah, baby, do you like watching me fuck you with your shirt on? You like that, huh?” his look is ecstatic as he reply “Yes - GOD- fuck - you’re so beautiful”

You start to pound again against his prostate, deeper into him with each movement, your tits bouncing and obscene slapping filling the air mixed with the buzzing of the dildo, until you can’t fight your orgasm anymore.

It’s too much, all too much, the vibrations, the dildo crushing on your cervix, and the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen all worked up and sweaty between your legs, just losing his mind for you.

“Come baby” you order in a breath “come for me” and he throw his head back on the mattress rolling his eyes and lets himself be invaded by a devastating orgasm right after your command, long spurts of his cum painted all over your tummy and his shirt.

You can feel his whole body shaking and you hold on to his ankle as you hastily pull out with the other one and squirt all over the dildo, drenching the duvet underneath you.

You’re completely shattered and exhausted but totally appeased, no thought left in your brain but a complete state of serenity that mostly comes from the fact that you can be completely you with Joel, no disguise, no mask, no filter is needed when it comes to him.

You turn off the the dildo and let it out him, you throw it on the empty side of the bed and lie down in his arms, it’s all you want and it’s all you need now.

He welcomes you and holds you tightly as you both try to get your breathing back to normal, you abandon your head on his chest and you feel his heart beating fast behind his ribcage.

After a few minutes of silence he is the first to speak “that was…fuck…I don’t have words. Thank you, love”

You tilt your head to look at him and he’s smiling with his entire face, his eyes sparkling and his cheek flushed and his adorable dimple showing off.

“I love you, Joel” you murmur and your mouth reach the bald patch in his beard to place a kiss there.

“I love you too, honey, so much you have no idea” and he gently takes your lips.

“I’m sorry, your shirt got wet” the final part is practically stuck to your skin, soaked in sweat, cum and squirt.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind at all. We’re both sticky and sweaty but we can think about that later”

You laugh and kiss him again, nibbling on his lower lip.

When you break the kiss there is a question you feel curious to ask him “Joel?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I have a question”

“Shoot”

“Why do you like it so much when I wear your clothes?”

He gives you a sweet and slightly shy look as he replies “For starters, they look sexier on you and then…it makes me feel like you’re mine in some sort of primal sense, you smell like me and I love that you have something of me on you”

You giggle.

“Did I explain myself?”

“Yes, yes you perfectly did, honey” you reply hiding your head in the crook of his neck and inhaling his woody citrusy scent.

He smells like home, the only one you truly feels to belong to.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel the last of us #the last of us #fanfic #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #one shot #joel miller x f!reader #sub!joel #soft joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #joel miller tlou #joel miller au

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ssaaaronmontgomery · 1 year ago

Note

Pregnant BAU Reader goes into labor and panics about the child not having a father, but then realises Hotch is right there with them making it feel OK.

Basically reader realising their boss will be the closest thing their kid has to a dad and how lucky the kid is to have that. Can be platonic or romantic 🥰 💝

Always There

Warnings: Pregnancy, fluff, nervous reader, Hotch being a sweetheart 🥹🫶, if I missed any please let me know!

Word count: 1k

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x pregnant!bau!reader

A/n: Yes yes 🥹🥹. I love this so much and I loved writing it!! I hope it is to your satisfaction and that you enjoy it<3. This was not proofread so I apologise if there are any mistakes!

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssamorganhotchner

Going into labour three weeks before your due date wasn't really part of the plan and you'd been so busy with work that you hadn't really considered the possibility. Though Hotch had apparently taken this into consideration because a number of weeks ago he'd assigned you to desk work only. You hadn't even been able to travel with the team.

Going into labour was already scary enough on its own. But what made it worse was that your baby's father was not in the picture whatsoever and not having someone you know and feel safe with during this experience scared you even more. It terrified you if you were being completely honest with yourself.

You're sitting at your desk when everything starts and you don't know what to do. Well, you know what to do but in the moment everything flies out of your head and now you're starting to go into panic mode. You hadn't even realised JJ and Spencer saw what was happening or when JJ appeared at your side as Reid went to get Hotch.

Then you hear Aaron saying your name as you hold your hand on your stomach. Looking up at him from your seated position he's looking at you with concern. "Y/n? Hey we've gotta get you to the hospital, okay?" His hand is on your shoulder.

"Hotch, I'm scared. I- I can't do this by myself. I always thought I could, but I can't-"

"Y/n, you're not alone, okay? I'll be there if you'd like that. The team is here for you too." He gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Of course he would be there.

He was always there. He always helped you. Especially when you announced your pregnancy. He helped you set up your nursery. Putting the crib together. Painting the walls. Putting the new furniture in the room. He helped put your hospital bag together. He was always there for you whenever you were feeling scared or anxious about anything but especially the pregnancy. He was just there. So you shouldn't be surprised that he wants to be there for you through this part of it too.

He's already been such a father figure to your child and they haven't even been born yet.

There's always been some sort of romantic aura surrounding your relationship with him but nothing had ever happened. You were pretty sure it was because Aaron didn't want to overstep, but you weren't really sure. Whatever was there, you both knew it. You just never had a conversation about it. Although now isn't really the time to have that talk.

"I'd like that. Please." You have a pleading look in your eyes Aaron gives you a small smile. He tries to hug you as best as he can considering the obstacle your bump has created.

Before you know it you're being rushed to the hospital.

A number of hours go by and in true Aaron fashion, he was with you for it all. He did his best to keep you calm and comfortable given the situation. Honestly, anything he did helped you quite a bit. You know if he hadn't been there you'd have been a wreck but having Aaron with you through it was the best thing you could have asked for and you don't know what you would have done if he wasn't there.

You were holding your baby in your arms for the first time now and it was bringing you so much joy. It felt somewhat surreal. But it was incredible.

Looking up with a grin on your face you're met with the same expression on Aaron's face as he looks at you with your little love.

"May I?" Aaron asks as he holds his arms out. He wants to hold the baby. You knew he did just from the look on his face. You smile even brighter and nod as you both carefully maneuver the tiny human into his huge arms. He's immediately grinning impossibly bigger. He looks just as happy now as he does when he has Jack in his arms.

"Hi little one. You're adorable, you know that? You have so many people here to meet you. They're all excited to welcome you to the BAU family. And your momma, she's wonderful. She loves you so much. She loves you and I know she'll give you everything she's got. And I'll always be here for you too if you're okay with that." Aaron looks like he's got love just pouring out of him as he says all of this to your baby and when he does, you know he means it. You know he already loves this child like his own. He's been there for many of those things. Even going to some of the doctor's appointments with you and holding your hand during them. He kept snacks for you in a specific drawer in his desk just for you.

Everything feels so overwhelming for you, not in a bad way but in the best way. It brings tears of joy to your eyes and Hotch notices immediately, of course he's concerned.

"Are you okay? Can I get you something? Do you want to hold-"

You cut off his questions by shaking your head "No. No, I'm fine. I'm just happy. Hold the baby as long as you want. But I will want my child back before you leave." He chuckles a little and looks back down at the small life in his arms and looks back up at you.

"Why would I leave? I would like to stay, but only if that's okay with you. I want to be here." His voice is soft and genuine. It only makes those tears spill over and stream down your cheeks. All you can manage is a nod as you wipe your tears away.

"What about Jack?"

"He's having a sleepover at Jessica's. And I'm sure he'd like to meet this one." He looks back down at the sleeping baby and you notice that his smile hasn't left once.

You don't know it yet but when he had said he wants to stay he doesn't just mean he wants to stay at the hospital with you. He means he wants to stay with you and your little one indefinitely. But that's something you find out later.

#anon🩶#aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x pregnant!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #cw pregnancy #hotch🌜#anon request #mon answers 🩷#mon posts 🩷

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jetii · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! I’m the anon that asked about the SFW/NSFW thing. I had an angsty idea for a Crosshair x Jedi. Reader where they both liked each other, but they never said anything. He injures her during Order 66 and believes her to be dead. Later he finds out she survived, but she has amnesia from when he attacked her. She doesn’t remember that she was a Jedi. She doesn’t remember the Batch and how she battled by their side. She doesn’t remember him.

This can end with the reader remembering and they make up, or you can go the extra angsty route and have it so she never remembers and Crosshair watches as she moves on with someone else. SFW please!

Hi anon! Sorry it took me a while to get to this, but this was harder than I thought. I ended up writing this in a different style than I'm used to, but I think it turned out alright. Tried to keep the word count short but obviously that Did Not Happen. Enjoy!

Forgotten, But Not Yet Gone

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Reader / Crosshair x Jedi!Reader

Words: 9,425

Tags/Warnings: Imperial!Crosshair, angst, unrequited feelings, medically inaccurate depictions of amnesia and memory loss

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

Killing you was the worst thing that ever happened to Crosshair.

Discovering that you were still alive was a new kind of pain entirely.

And it's one he had never prepared himself for.

He had thought there was nothing left of his heart to break. He thought he was done with feeling anything at all. But seeing you now, in the flesh — and not just the memory of you in the back of his mind...

Crosshair realized he had been wrong.

He had felt nothing for so long. And it had been easier, really. To keep it all locked away. To ignore it. To pretend. He had even been successful, for the most part.

But then, there you were, standing in front of him. And everything came rushing back to the surface.

All of the things he had tried to bury deep within himself. The feelings he had spent years ignoring. All of the things that had made him start to become himself, again. The person he was before the chip, before the nightmare that had been the last year.

And now, as you looked up at him with those big eyes of yours...

Crosshair knew exactly what that emotion was.

You had always made him feel something. Something he had never felt before. Something he was only just now allowing himself to admit. Something he was finally allowing himself to accept.

He’s not sure how long he’s been watching you through the scope of his rifle. So long. Too long.

Long enough for him to realize what he feels.

Long enough for him to know it won't ever go away.

And long enough for him to realize you would never want him again.

Still, it doesn’t stop him from moving. He checks his chrono for the time — he’s been up here for hours, watching the movements of the crowd, and nothing has happened — and stands, slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he heads for the ladder.

He has to see you. Even if you won’t want to see him. Even if he knows it will hurt more than he ever imagined.

Because he needs you to know.

Crosshair pushes his way through the crowd, weaving through the bodies. His heart is pounding in his chest. He can hear the blood roaring in his ears. His palms are sweating as he clenches his hands into fists, and his throat is dry.

You don’t see him approach. You haven't noticed him. You're busy smiling and chatting with a vendor over some sort of scrap, the kind of things he used to make fun of you for collecting.

He watches you, the way you gesture animatedly, the way you laugh. You're still beautiful, he thinks, the same way you were the day you left. Your hair is longer, pulled back into a messy braid, and your smile is softer, kinder, but it's still the same.

When he's close enough to hear your voice, he pulls off his helmet so he can hear it more clearly.

You're talking to the vendor about something, the details of the conversation lost on him. The words are just noise in his ears. Your voice washes over him, filling his head, making him ache.

Crosshair stops a few yards away from you. His chest tightens, his heart racing as he watches you. You've been talking to the vendor, completely unaware of his presence. He has to remind himself to breathe, to calm down, to be patient.

Then, you turn around.

He's not sure what he expected to see on your face. Maybe shock. Maybe anger. Maybe even disgust. But you look...pleased. Relieved. Happy. Your smile never falters. In fact, it widens, crinkling the corners of your eyes. Your hand lifts into a wave, and in his stupor he finds his own hand lifting, as if in a trance.

Someone jostles his side as he stands there, staring at you. Your eyes slide off of him and you let out a laugh before a small form launches itself into you, almost knocking you off your feet.

You laugh, picking up the little boy who had run up to you and swing him around, pressing kisses into his hair as he giggles. A moment later, a woman joins you, her hands on her hips, scolding the boy gently for running off.

His throat is too dry to speak. His hands are shaking. The world seems to tilt around him.

Crosshair knows what he feels. He had denied it for so long, tried to tell himself he didn't. But he can't do that anymore. Not when you're here. Not when he's faced with the reality of his feelings for you.

Crosshair can't speak. Can't say anything. Not now. So instead, he watches. Watches the boy squirm in your arms, and the woman smiling at the both of you. Watches as the three of you move on, further into the crowd.

As you move on. Without him.

"CT-9904, report. Why have you left your post?”

He sucks in a sharp breath, reaching up and activating his commlink.

"There was a disturbance in the market," he says. His voice is steady, cool, emotionless. Just like it should be.

"And?"

Crosshair looks around. There's no trace of you or the child. You've moved on.

"All clear."

"Good. Report back immediately.”

Crosshair's finger hovers over the button on his comm, the one that will deactivate it. He glances up, once again searching the crowd for any sign of you, but there's nothing.

You're gone, and he's alone. Again.

Crosshair's stomach turns, and he takes a breath, his eyes sliding shut as he speaks.

"Understood."

Every day, Crosshair takes up his post and watches the market, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. And every day, he finds nothing. Every day, he returns to his base, his shoulders heavy with disappointment. He starts to convince himself that he'd imagined you.

That's the only logical explanation. You aren't real. None of this is.

But then, one day, he finds himself watching as you walk into the market. You're holding the hand of the same boy he'd seen you with before, and he can't help but wonder if the two of you are related. If you've found happiness. If you're happy.

It's the first time since finding you that he feels like he can breathe.

He watches as the boy tugs on your hand, dragging you towards a booth, where he's pointing at something, chattering. You're nodding along, clearly invested in what he's saying.

He doesn't look like you. Maybe it's the father. But his age isn't right, either. Crosshair frowns, thinking. How old was the boy? Four, maybe five? It couldn't be your child, not unless you had hidden him from him for the last four years.

He watches as the boy drags you into a crowd. You're laughing, your smile wide, and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He'd forgotten how much he loved seeing you smile. Forgotten how it felt.

The only thing keeping him from leaving his post is his fear that you'll be gone the moment he does. So he stays.

The boy is still talking to you. You're listening intently, but your eyes are moving, scanning the crowd. You're nervous, he realizes. You've sensed him, he's sure of it.

Crosshair doesn't dare move. He doesn't know how you would react. You're a ghost. A figment of his imagination, conjured up because he's finally allowed himself to feel something again, but one he can’t bear to look away from

A group of people walk by. A woman bumps into you. Crosshair doesn't have a good view of you anymore. He curses, shifting, trying to get a better angle. He needs to see you. Has to.

You're moving farther away, leaving the market, the boy's hand clasped firmly in yours.

Crosshair moves, quickly, not wanting to lose you. He leaps across rooftops, keeping you in his sights, until the two of you leave the market.

The crowds have thinned. People are going home, to their families, to their lives. Crosshair wonders, briefly, where you're taking your son. What your life is like.

The two of you turn a corner, heading toward the residential district. He follows you, carefully. Slowly. Keeping a distance. You haven't noticed him, which is fine. He wants to be alone with his thoughts. He can't get over how beautiful you are. How perfect.

Crosshair slows, realizing the two of you are stopping in front of an apartment building. You let go of the boy's hand and crouch down in front of him, smiling as you brush his hair from his face. The boy smiles, wrapping his arms around your neck and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You squeeze him, and Crosshair can hear the low murmur of your voice as you talk to him, though he can't make out the words.

You're talking for a few moments, and then you're straightening, ushering him into the building. Crosshair can see the door open, a figure standing in the doorway. The woman from earlier, he realizes. He watches the door shut behind you, his heart clenching.

Maybe it's better this way. You're freer than you've ever been without the Jedi or the Empire. He doesn't want to put you in danger. He's seen what the Empire does to rebels, and he knows what they'll do to you if they discover you're still alive. The same thing he'd failed to do.

Maybe he can be satisfied with knowing that you're safe. Maybe he can live with not having you.

Still, a part of him wishes that you'd turned, seen him. That you'd looked up at him, somehow knowing that he was there.

He'd give anything for just a moment with you.

A moment is all he'd need.

He'd tell you everything. How much he's missed you. How sorry he is for the things he'd said and done. For everything. He'd beg for forgiveness, though he doesn't think he deserves it. He'd tell you how much he loves you, even if it's too late. Even if you're happy now. Even if you'll never be his.

It doesn't matter.

He just needs you to know.

He watches. He keeps his distance, but he watches. Every day. Waiting for you to appear.

He finds his mind wandering more often, thinking about the what ifs. What would have happened if he had never been forced to kill you? Would the two of you have made a life together, away from the Empire, the GAR, the Jedi? Or would he have continued to deny his feelings, pushing them away, until it was too late and he'd lost you forever?

Crosshair wonders, not for the first time, if it's worth it. If staying loyal to the Empire is worth losing any semblance of freedom. His life. The life he could have had.

He has no other choice. They're the only ones who will accept him, who will give him a home. His brothers are lost to him. They hate him, he's certain. They'd tried to kill him.

They've never needed him. They've always had each other. They'll be fine. They'll move on.

Without him.

Like they did after you.

Crosshair tries not to think about that. It's easier to focus on his work. The only thing keeping him sane, the only thing distracting him.

It's late. Crosshair's shift ended hours ago. He'd gone back to his quarters, but sleep hadn't come easily. His thoughts were racing, as they usually were, and the longer he'd laid in bed, the more restless he'd become. So he'd pulled on his armor and grabbed his rifle, and suddenly he was standing outside of your apartment.

He shouldn't be here.

But he is.

He has to see you. He just...he has to. He doesn't know why.

His fingers flex against the stock of his rifle as he looks around. It's empty, save for a few speeders parked nearby. There's not a single person in sight. He lets out a breath and slings the weapon over his shoulder.

He shouldn't be here.

But he is.

His boots crunch against the ground as he moves towards the entrance of the building. It's not the worst area of the city, but it's not the best, either. It's quiet, peaceful. There's a small garden nearby, a few trees casting a shadow on the door.

He stands outside the door for a moment, looking at the panel next to it. He shouldn't be here.

His fist pounds on the door anyway.

It takes a few minutes, but the door slides open, revealing the boy from the market. He blinks at Crosshair, tilting his head curiously.

"Hello," he says.

"Hey," Crosshair replies, awkwardly. He doesn't know what to say, really. He doesn't have any experience with kids beyond his few encounters with Omega, and she wasn't a kid, not really. "Uh, is your mother here?"

A pair of hands wrap around the boys shoulders and yank him back.

"Sam, you don't just open the door to strangers!"

The woman he'd seen the other day steps into view, a blaster clutched tightly in her hand. Her eyes widen as she sees him. He suddenly realizes how this looks — an imperial soldier, standing at her doorstep, in the middle of the night.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

She raises the blaster, pointing it at him. The boy is staring at him, and his gaze moves to the woman, his eyebrows furrowing. He slips around her and darts away, further into the apartment.

"Wait, Sam—" She glances over her shoulder. "Sam!"

"I'm not going to hurt you," Crosshair says, holding his hands up.

"What do you want?"

"I'm looking for someone," he says, slowly.

"At this hour?" She looks over her shoulder again, and when she turns back to him, her eyes are wide, panicked.

"Yes. I...I need to speak with her." His mouth feels like its full of sand when he says your name, and he watches as the woman's brow furrows with confusion.

"Who?"

"I need to speak with her. Please."

The woman is silent. She stares at him for a long time, her eyes narrowing, searching his face. She looks like she's about to say something, her lips parting, and then—

"Is everything okay, Maris?"

Crosshair's breath hitches.

Your voice. It's your voice.

The woman — Maris — glances over her shoulder. She takes a breath and nods, before looking back at him. You step into view, the boy at your heels, and stop short, your eyes widening as you take him in.

"We don't want any trouble," you say, stepping in front of Maris, shielding her and the boy. "You can't just—"

"I know."

You're standing between him and the other two, the boy's eyes darting from Crosshair to Maris. The woman has relaxed her stance, lowering her blaster. She's still watching him, wary, but she's not pointing the blaster at him.

"Are you going to hurt us?" you ask softly.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "No. I...I need to speak with you."

You're silent. Your eyes are locked with his, searching his face. His heart is racing, and he's struggling to breathe. His armor suddenly feels like an impossible weight on his shoulders.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you nod.

"Okay," you say. "Okay. Come inside."

You turn, ushering the other two inside. Maris looks over her shoulder at him, her eyes narrowed. He can't blame her. He'd be suspicious of a stranger at the door, too. Especially a strange imperial.

He's surprised when you stop just inside the door, waiting for him to enter. Your arms are crossed, your lips pressed into a thin line. You look nervous.

"Close the door, please," you say.

Crosshair reaches behind him, pressing his palm against the door, closing it. He pulls off his helmet and lets it rest against his hip, his fingers tight underneath the lip.

"You said you needed to speak to me?"

He nods. He wants to say so much. To tell you everything. But the words stick in his throat, and the silence stretches out between you.

"Well, what is it?"

He opens his mouth, then closes it, frowning. How can he even begin to explain? How can he start to make up for the things he's done? For the pain he's caused you, for the words he'd said, the insults, the hurtful things. For the fact that he was the one to end your life.

"I—" He cuts himself off, shaking his head. No. That's not enough. "I'm sorry," he says, finally.

He doesn't know if that's enough, but it's a start.

"For what?"

Your question throws him. He's not sure what to say. His brow pinches as he tries to think of a response, and the longer he takes to respond, the more annoyed you look.

"Look, I don't know what you want, but—"

"I'm sorry," he says again, firmly. "For...for everything."

Your eyebrows furrow. He watches you, trying to gauge your reaction. But you've always been hard for him to read, with your endless calm and steady presence. It had made him feel less alone, knowing someone else had a handle on their emotions.

Now, he finds it maddening.

"I don't understand," you say, finally. "You show up, unannounced, in the middle of the night, and say you're sorry, but you don't say why. For what? What do you have to be sorry for? How do you even know me?"

Crosshair freezes and looks at you. Really looks at you.

There's no recognition in your eyes. No glimmer of warmth or love, or even hate. Just confusion. And annoyance.

"I..."

You raise your eyebrows, waiting.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.

Nothing comes out.

"I...I need to go."

Crosshair turns and heads for the door.

"Wait."

You're still standing between him and the door, and when he gets close, you grab his arm. Your fingers press into the armor, digging into the gaps, the skin on his wrist burning where your hand is touching his.

"Tell me," you say. "Why are you here?"

He looks at you. The confusion is still in your eyes, the annoyance. You're waiting for an answer. You don't remember him. You don't know him. He's a stranger to you, and he has no right to be here, talking to you.

"I shouldn't have come."

"No," you say, "you shouldn't have. Tell me why you're here. What do you want?"

Crosshair sighs, running his hand over his head. His fingers linger on the mottled scar, thumb tracing where the chip was. He knows what he wants to say. But the words are caught in his throat, his tongue heavy, his mouth dry.

"I'm not going to stop asking," you say. "Tell me. Who are you?"

He feels the strange urge to laugh. You always were stubborn. It's not an admirable trait, not normally, but it's something that had always drawn him to you. You were one of the few willing to stand up to him, and now, you're standing in front of him, demanding an answer.

"My name is Crosshair."

Your frown. "Crosshair? Why does that sound familiar?"

He looks at the ground. "That's what my brothers call me."

"Brothers?" You tilt your head, confused. "I don't..."

He looks up, watching your face as you try to figure out what he means. There's a small wrinkle between your brows, the one that appears when you're thinking hard about something. Your teeth worry at your lower lip. You look...

"You don't know me," he finishes for you.

You shake your head, your lips pressed together. "I don't."

"Why not?"

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, and he can't help but cringe at the way his voice sounds. Childish. Petulant. He can't stop the way his stomach twists.

You're alive.

And you don't remember him.

You frown. "What do you mean? What does it matter?"

Crosshair looks at you, and he can't help it. His eyes roam over your face, searching.

He wonders what happened. Wonders why you don't remember him. If you'd blocked him out because you were hurt, or angry. Or if it was something else. Something more.

"Because we know each other," he says.

"We do?" You blink at him, and your nose scrunches, just a little. He feels a pang of fondness. "How?"

"We...worked together."

"What? Where?"

Crosshair looks away, his mouth pressing into a thin line. He can't do this. Not now. Maybe not ever. He shouldn't have come. He should have left things alone.

"You don't remember."

"I told you that."

"Then what's the last thing you do remember?"

Your brow furrows, and you're quiet for a moment.

"I...I remember..." You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. When you open them again, your face is pinched. "I remember running. A battle. People were screaming. I was hurt."

You glance down at yourself, and Crosshair follows your gaze, looking at the spot where his rifle had pierced you.

"What else?"

You look at him. "Nothing. Everything went dark. Then I woke up on a ship, and the people who rescued me, they brought me here."

"And you don't remember anything before that?"

You shake your head. "No. It's just...black. There's nothing there."

Crosshair can feel his heart sinking.

He wonders if the memory loss was deliberate. A defense mechanism, something to keep you from remembering. A way to protect yourself from the trauma. Or maybe it was just a side effect of being brought back to life.

You’d told him once that you could see people’s memories, peel open their minds until they revealed their thoughts and past to you. It was a useful skill in a Jedi, but one you had hated, and never used. Would it work on yourself? Or would it be different, now that you didn't remember anything?

"Are you alright?"

Crosshair glances up at you, and your eyes meet his. He can't look away. Your eyes are searching, searching, searching, and he knows you're trying to understand what's going on. He can see the frustration and confusion written all over your face.

He nods. "Fine."

You sigh. "This is...a lot."

He nods again, looking away.

"Why did you come here, Crosshair?"

"I needed to talk to you."

"But why?"

"Because..." He sighs. "I need to apologize. For the things I said. For the things I did. And for...for this."

He presses his palm against the place where he'd shot you, and you inhale sharply, stepping back. He can't look at you. He doesn't want to see the fear and disgust on your face.

"I'm sorry," he says, again. "I...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I wish..." He lets out a shuddering breath, shaking his head. "I wish things were different."

You're silent, and he looks up, finally meeting your eyes. They're wide, shining with unshed tears, and the sight makes his heart clench painfully in his chest.

"I don't understand," you say.

He can't blame you. You've forgotten everything. Every moment, every memory, every feeling.

And he can't do this.

Not now.

Not like this.

"I have to go," he says. "This was a mistake."

"Wait," you say, reaching for him, but he steps away from you, heading for the door.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, not looking at you.

The door opens, and he steps out. He's halfway down the stairs to the street when you call out.

"Crosshair!"

He stops, glancing over his shoulder at you. You're standing in the doorway, the light from the apartment spilling out around you.

"Come back tomorrow. Please."

He hesitates, and you continue, a slight smile pulling at your lips, "I'll be here."

Crosshair turns and starts walking again.

"Promise?" you call out.

He doesn't stop, but he raises his hand in a wave. "I promise."

You're already waiting for him.

Crosshair can see you, standing in the window. He watches you, your form shadowed by the curtains. You're holding a mug in one hand, the steam curling into the air. The sight of it is so domestic, so...normal. It feels like a punch in the gut.

He had watched you do the same thing, years ago. Sipping tea as you stood at the window, looking out at the landscape. It was one of the first moments that had made him realize that he felt something for you, beyond friendship.

Crosshair is so caught up in his thoughts that he almost doesn't notice the boy peeking out from behind you. You lean down, murmuring something, and the boy's face disappears. You take another sip from your mug and step away from the window.

The door slides open, revealing the two of you, and the woman from the other day. She's standing behind you, arms crossed, scowling at him. The boy is holding your hand, and his stare is unabashed.

"Crosshair," you say, smiling. "Come in."

He looks at the woman — Maris — and she narrows her eyes at him, but she doesn't protest. The three of you step inside, and he follows.

The apartment is small, but cozy. It's full of things. Pictures. Sculptures. Pieces of scrap and machinery. Junk, he would have said before, but now, they seem important, somehow.

"Do you want something to drink?" you ask, ushering him towards a chair.

"Water, please."

"Sam, can you get our guest some water?"

The boy nods and hurries to the kitchen.

"So," you say, sitting across from him. "You wanted to talk to me."

Crosshair can feel Maris' eyes boring into him, and he looks up, meeting her gaze. She narrows her eyes and turns away, moving into the kitchen. He can hear the soft murmur of her voice as she speaks to Sam.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I already told you."

"Tell me again."

"I—"

"Here's your water."

The boy sets a cup of water down on the table in front of him. Crosshair glances at him, and Sam looks away, suddenly shy. He rushes back into the kitchen, hiding behind the woman.

"So," you say. "Tell me."

"About what?"

"Everything."

Crosshair lets out a slow breath. He glances at Maris, who's still watching him from the doorway. Her expression hasn't changed, her face set in a scowl. She doesn't trust him, and he can't blame her. He wouldn't, either.

“Not here," he says.

You glance over your shoulder, frowning.

"Maris, can you take Sam out, please?"

"We'll stay here," she says.

"Maris," you say, gently.

She looks at you, her expression softening. You nod towards the door. She shakes her head and steps forward, wrapping her arms around your shoulders.

"Call if you need anything," she says.

You nod.

The two of them leave, Maris pausing briefly to look back at Crosshair. He holds her gaze, and she narrows her eyes. The door slides shut behind her.

"Sorry about that," you say. "She's a bit overprotective."

"It's fine." He pauses, and he can’t help but ask, "You're close, then?"

"Yes. Maris is a dear friend. She and her brother were the ones who saved me."

"Good," he says. "I'm glad."

"Why?"

"Because someone has to look after you."

You smile, shaking your head.

"You were always a protective one," you say, chuckling.

Crosshair feels his heart drop.

You've said something of that nature to him before. Many times. He'd always brushed it off, told you he wasn't, that he didn't care. That it was only his duty to protect you. But you'd never bought it, and you'd always seen through his façade, calling him on his bullshit.

You had always been good at that.

“You said you don’t remember,” he points out, ignoring how his voice shakes.

You shake your head. “I don’t, but...I can feel it. I can feel things. When I look at you, it feels...familiar. Like I should know you, but I don't."

"And what do you feel, now?"

You're silent, looking at him. His eyes roam over your face, and he can feel himself leaning forward. Your lips part, and his eyes flick down, watching as your tongue darts out to wet your lips.

He leans in further, and—

The door opens, and Crosshair sits back, turning his head to see Maris and Sam standing there, the woman glaring at him.

"Forgot my datapad," she says, her tone clipped.

"Of course," you say, rising from your seat. "Where did you leave it?"

She doesn't answer, and instead, she crosses the room, scooping the datapad off the counter. She gives him another dirty look and then leaves, the door sliding shut behind her.

Crosshair sighs and leans back in his seat. You give him an apologetic smile and sit back down.

"You were saying?"

"Right. What do you feel?"

You're quiet, and he watches as your brow furrows.

"Sad," you say, softly. “But also…like I'm home. With you. It's strange. It doesn't make any sense. But I feel it."

He can't stop the strangled noise that escapes his throat, and he closes his eyes, his hands gripping the armrests. He tries to breathe, but he can't, and the world seems to be tilting around him.

"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?"

He shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak.

"Crosshair, please. Look at me."

His eyes snap open and lock on yours. You're staring at him, your face pinched with concern.

"Please," you say, again, and it's too much.

It's the same thing you'd said before, the last time he'd seen you. Before everything had gone to hell. Before the chip. Before he'd shot you.

"I can't," he chokes out, pushing himself to his feet. "I can't."

"Wait," you say, grabbing his wrist.

He freezes. Your hand is warm, and the way your thumb moves over his pulse point makes his heart flutter.

"Let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," you say.

He can feel the tension in his body building, his fingers twitching. He wants to run. To get out of here. To get away from you, and everything that reminds him of what he's lost. Of what he'll never have.

He yanks his hand from your grasp and turns to go, but something stops him. Something familiar. A tugging at the back of his mind. He turns, slowly, and sees you standing there, your eyes closed, your hand outstretched.

"What are you doing?" he demands.

“I—I’m not sure,” you whisper, and your eyes blink open.

The two of you stare at each other, and then you turn, moving into the kitchen. Crosshair follows, stopping just outside the doorway. You're leaning against the counter, your head hanging low, breathing heavily.

"I shouldn't have done that," you say. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"What did you do?"

"I'm not sure," you repeat.

"But you have a theory," he says. You always have a theory.

"I think...I was trying to reach out, to see if I could read your memories. If I could see what happened between us."

"Did it work?"

"I don't know. I tried, but..."

You trail off, and Crosshair watches as you lift a hand to your head, wincing.

"It's like a wall," you say. "Or a wall that's half there. I can't break through."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure," you say. "It's like I'm remembering, but not. It's confusing. And frustrating. I saw flashes of something, but it didn't make sense. None of it does."

"Like what?"

"You. Me. Fighting. And..." You frown. "Your…brothers? They were there, too."

Crosshair swallows. He has no idea what you're seeing. How much of the memory is intact, or if it's even real.

"What else?"

"I don't remember," you say, shaking your head. "It's gone."

He doesn't know what to say. The two of you stand in silence, and he can't help but feel a small flicker of hope. Maybe this is a sign. Maybe, just maybe, there's a chance that you can regain your memories. That he can have you back.

But that's foolish. He's not a child, and he's not that naive. Hope is dangerous. It leads to disappointment. It's not something he can afford. Not anymore.

"I should go," he says.

"No." You reach for him, grabbing his wrist, and he doesn't pull away. "Please, don't go. I need to know more. Please tell me. Tell me about us. About the things we did. About...everything. I need to know. I have to know."

He hesitates. He shouldn't. He knows he shouldn't.

But you're looking at him, and you're so desperate, so vulnerable. You'd never allowed him to see you like this. You'd always been strong and sure. Calm and collected. Steady. Always steady.

This isn't you.

It's not.

But he can't help but feel a small pang of hope. A tiny spark of optimism.

Maybe.

Just maybe.

"Alright," he says. "Alright. I'll tell you."

Crosshair keeps coming back.

It becomes a routine. He stops by the apartment, talks to you. He tells you stories, and he watches as you try to remember, but can't.

Sometimes, he catches Maris watching him. Her gaze is always wary, guarded. She doesn't trust him, and he can't blame her. But she tolerates him. She never says anything, not to him, and not to you, but he knows she doesn't like him.

The boy, Sam, doesn't seem to mind him. He's curious, and he has endless questions. He's a smart kid, and Crosshair can't help but feel a small spark of pride every time Sam comes up with a solution to a problem, or manages to repair something that was broken.

He's a good kid.

He reminds him of Tech.

"Do you have any brothers?" Sam asks one day, his hands covered in grease.

Crosshair's stomach twists at the question. He nods, and Sam's eyes widen.

"I have a brother, too. We don't look the same, but that's okay."

"I have brothers who don't look like me," Crosshair replies, and Sam smiles.

"That's good."

Crosshair smiles back.

After that, Sam starts to ask him questions, about his life, his family. His brothers. He can't help but answer, though he tries to keep it vague, giving Sam the barest details. You watch him, and he can feel your eyes on him. You want answers too, but you don't push.

It's easier when it's just the two of you. Easier to talk. Easier to tell you things. Easier to try and find some way to connect.

Easier to fall back into old habits.

"Do you remember that time on Vanqor?"

"The one where I almost drowned in a pond, or the one where I had to save you from that pack of gundarks?"

"Both."

You laugh, and the sound is like music to his ears. "Yes. I remember. You were such a brat about it."

"I was not," he huffs, and you give him a look.

"Yes, you were."

He can't argue. You're right. He'd been a brat. And an asshole.

But he can't help it. You bring out the worst in him. And the best.

"Fine," he grumbles. "Maybe a little."

You smirk and shake your head, and the two of you continue to chat. The conversation shifts, and he's talking about his brothers. How they used to get into trouble. How they'd pull pranks, and he'd end up in the middle of it. How you'd always had his back.

Crosshair can't help but wonder if this is how it would have been, if the two of you had been able to have a normal life. Would you have ended up together, anyway? Would the two of you be happy? Would you have been able to start a family of your own?

He'd never thought about it before, but now, it seems all too possible.

Too tempting.

"What are you thinking about?"

He looks up, startled, and realizes you're watching him, a faint smile on your face.

"Nothing," he says.

"Tell me."

"It's nothing. I was just...thinking."

"About what?"

"Us."

"What about us?"

He pauses, his mouth going dry. He shouldn't say it. He should change the subject. But he can't.

"What we could have been."

Your expression softens, and your eyes shine with sadness.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I wish I could remember."

"Me, too."

The two of you fall into a heavy silence. The air is thick, and he can feel the tension growing. You're still staring at him, your gaze searching. He's not sure what you're looking for, but you seem to find it, because you stand, and walk over to him.

"Can I show you something?"

He nods, and you take his hand, leading him to your room. He can't help but notice how your fingers fit perfectly between his, or the way his skin tingles underneath his gloves when you touch him. You step inside, and close the door behind you, sealing the two of you inside.

Crosshair doesn't know what to expect, but it's not this.

"Sit."

You motion towards the bed, and he does, slowly, feeling his heart race. You move to a dresser and open the top drawer, pulling out a box.

"I found this," you say, sitting next to him, "a few days ago."

You set the box between the two of you, and slowly, carefully, you lift the lid. Inside is a collection of items - a haircomb, a few pieces of jewelry, a datapad, a pair of gloves.

"What is this?"

"I don't know," you say. "Maris found them in my things. She says I was wearing most of this when she and her brother found me. She kept it for me. I think...I think they might have been important to me."

You pick up the datapad and press a button, bringing it to life. The screen lights up, and you stare at it, your brow furrowing.

"It's locked," you say, frowning. "I don't remember the password."

"Have you tried any?"

"No," you say. "I haven't touched any of this. I wanted to wait for you."

He can't hide his surprise, and you smile, a faint flush spreading across your cheeks.

"I think," you say, slowly, "that they're memories. And I think you might be the key to unlocking them."

Crosshair's breath hitches. "How?"

"I'm not sure," you admit. "But...when we're together, I feel...something. A connection. Like a catalyst. I can't explain it, but...I know I need you."

He feels a warmth spreading through him, and he looks away, his heart pounding.

"Do you think we could try?" you ask, tentatively.

He nods.

"Alright," you say. You pick up the datapad, and hand it to him.

"I don't know if I can," he says, taking the device.

"Please."

He swallows. His mouth feels dry, and his hands are shaking. He takes a deep breath, and then types in a code.

The datapad beeps, and the screen lights up.

"How did you know that?" you ask, softly.

He shrugs. "It was a guess."

"A good one," you say, smiling.

"I'm full of good ideas," he replies, smirking.

You roll your eyes, and the two of you share a quiet chuckle.

"So," you say. "Shall we see what's inside?"

He nods, and you scoot closer to peer over his shoulder. He unlocks the datapad, and a folder opens. Inside are dozens of files - audio, video, and holos. He looks at you, and you nod, indicating for him to click on the first one.

The screen goes black, and then an image appears. It's of the two of you standing in front of a waterfall. He remembers the moment. It was from a mission, the first time the two of you had really worked together. He didn't like you then. Not at all. But he can't deny that you were efficient, and had a sharp eye. You'd impressed him, and the two of you had formed a tenuous bond.

"I took a lot of holos," you murmur, and he can't help but chuckle.

"I remember," he says. "You were a damn nuisance."

"Yeah, but look."

You point to the holo, and Crosshair looks, and sees himself. He's standing next to you, and there's a hint of a smile on his face.

"That's you," you say, poking his shoulder.

"Yes," he replies, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "It is."

You move on to the next file, and it's another image of the two of you. And the next. And the next. Until finally, the holo changes. It's a video. The two of you are in the cockpit, and he can see his brothers sitting behind you.

"We were on our way to a mission," he says as he sees the date stamp. "We'd just gotten the brief."

"Play it," you urge.

Crosshair presses the play button, and the two of you watch as the holo begins.

"You're sure this is a good idea?" you ask, glancing at him.

"Of course," he replies, not looking away from the viewport.

Tech looks over his shoulder, frowning. "Statistically speaking, there is a thirty-two percent chance that we will—"

"Shut up, Tech," Crosshair snaps.

"It's alright," Hunter says. "We'll be fine. We always are."

Wrecker laughs, and the sound is booming in the small space.

"And if we're not, well, that's what we have her for," Crosshair adds, nodding towards you.

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, thanks. Nice to know I'm the only one who can bail your asses out."

"You're welcome," he smirks.

You huff and shake your head. "Just be careful."

"Always," he replies.

The video cuts off, and the screen goes black. You're quiet, and Crosshair glances at you. You're staring at the datapad, your expression thoughtful.

"That was...me," you say, slowly. "I can't believe it. That was really me."

"Yes," he says. "It was."

"It was so...familiar," you murmur. "But also...not."

"It will come," he says, softly. "I promise."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because it's you," he says. "I know you. You're stubborn."

"You're one to talk," you say, laughing.

He can't stop himself. He reaches for you, his fingers brushing against your cheek. You lean into the touch, and he cups your face, his thumb brushing against your skin.

"I've missed you," he confesses.

"I'm right here."

"I know."

"You don't have to miss me," you say, gently. "Not anymore."

He looks at you, and the words are there, on the tip of his tongue.

But he can't say them.

He can't.

Not now.

Not yet.

"Crosshair," you say, softly.

"Yes?"

"I have a question."

"What is it?"

You hesitate, and he watches as your brow furrows, the small wrinkle appearing.

"Were we ever...together?"

"Together?"

"Romantically," you clarify.

He swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He drops his hand, and turns away.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me," you say. "But...I feel like we were. Or...maybe could have been. I'm not sure."

"We..."

He trails off, and his eyes flick up, meeting yours. You're watching him, your gaze intent, and he knows you won't let this go. Not now.

"No," he says, finally. You look…he isn’t sure how you look, actually, but it has him continuing before he can think better of it. "But we could have been."

"Why didn't we?"

Crosshair looks away, his hands clenching into fists. He can feel the anger, the guilt, the regret, all of it, rising up inside him, threatening to consume him.

"It was my fault," he says, his voice tight.

"What was?"

"Everything," he replies, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"I'm sure that's not true."

"It is," he says. "It's my fault. All of it."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a monster," he snaps.

You're quiet, and he can feel the anger burning in his chest, his blood boiling.

"That's not true," you say, finally.

"You don't know that," he growls.

"Maybe not," you say, evenly. "But I know you. I may not remember everything, but I know enough to know that you're not a monster. I know that you love your brothers. That you care about me. That you're a good man. Maybe not a perfect one, but a good one. One I trust."

He closes his eyes, his chest tight. He can't believe you. He can't. You're wrong. He's not a good man. He's not. He can't be. Not after everything. Not after what he's done.

"It's okay," you say, softly.

"No, it's not."

"Then let me help you."

"There's nothing you can do," he says, shaking his head. "I don't deserve it."

"Everyone deserves to be happy."

"Not me."

"Crosshair," you sigh, exasperated.

He looks up at you, and your eyes lock.

"It doesn't matter," he says, the fight going out of him. "It's too late. We can't go back. I can't change the past. And you...you don't remember."

"I will," you say, fiercely.

"Maybe," he replies, unconvinced.

"No," you say, your voice firm. "I will. I will remember, and I will know you. The real you. I will."

"I don't—"

"Crosshair," you say, firmly.

He stares at you, and he can feel his resolve breaking.

"Fine," he says, finally.

"Good," you say, nodding.

"But you have to promise me something," he says.

"What is it?"

"Promise me you won't push yourself," he says. "Don't try to force it. Let it happen naturally. Promise me."

You're silent for a moment, and he can see the wheels turning in your mind.

"Okay," you say, nodding.

"Promise."

"I promise."

"Thank you," he says, his shoulders slumping in relief.

"You're welcome," you say with a grin.

He shakes his head, unable to stop the small smile that tugs at his lips.

"What?"

"Nothing," he says. "Just...you."

"Me?"

"Yes," he replies, his tone wry. "You're infuriating, and stubborn, and—"

"I'm starting to remember why we never got together," you say, teasingly.

He lets out a startled laugh, and the two of you lapse into silence, a comfortable one, filled with a familiarity and a warmth that he hasn't felt in years.

"Do you want to look at more holos?" you ask, gently.

"Sure," he says, leaning back.

The two of you settle down, and he holds the datapad, while you lean against him, your head resting on his shoulder. He feels a familiar warmth spreading through him, a sense of belonging, and rightness.

He doesn't know how long the two of you sit there, watching the holos.

He doesn't care.

He's home.

Crosshair keeps coming back.

Every day, he returns. He tells you stories. Shows you holos. Shares memories.

Slowly, things begin to return. Flashes, mostly. Nothing concrete, but the pieces are there. Small ones, at first. The scent of a flower. The sound of a song. The feeling of the sun on your face.

As time passes, the memories grow stronger. Clearer. More detailed.

And still, you continue to search for answers. You ask questions. He answers, when he can.

Sometimes, it's too much, and he can't. When it is, you change the subject, and the two of you talk about other things.

You tell him about your life. About Maris and her brother, and their family. You tell him about the boy, Sam. You tell him about the work you've been doing, helping to rebuild the city.

You ask about his life, too. His family. His brothers. His life before.

He answers, when he can.

As the days pass, Crosshair finds himself falling back into old patterns. The familiarity of it is comforting, and it's easy to pretend, if only for a moment, that nothing has changed.

That you're the same people, with the same lives, and the same goals.

It's a lie.

But it's one he allows himself, for a while.

One day, you're sitting on the couch, the two of you lost in conversation. He's telling you a story, and you're listening, a small smile on your face.

"Wait," you interrupt. "I remember that."

"You do?"

"Yes," you say, eagerly. "Tech and I were working on modifying my armor, and he asked you to go get us some food. You came back, and—"

"And Wrecker spilled paint all over me," he finishes, his voice bitter.

"Yeah," you say, your grin widening. "And then I had to help you clean it off."

"It was a nightmare," he grumbles. "And it took forever. Your damn hands were everywhere."

You laugh, and his stomach flutters. It's a wonderful sound.

"It wasn't that bad," you tease.

"It was," he insists. "It took hours."

"Maybe," you concede. "But it was fun."

"Fun?" he says, incredulous.

"Yeah," you say, your eyes twinkling. "For me."

"You're terrible," he grumbles, though there's no heat in his words.

"You love it."

He doesn't answer.

Instead, he leans forward, and presses his lips to yours.

You freeze, and he freezes, and for a moment, the two of you are motionless, caught in a moment of indecision.

Then, slowly, tentatively, your lips move against his, and his eyes close, and he's kissing you, and you're kissing him, and the world falls away, and it's just the two of you, lost in the moment.

Finally, the two of you break apart, breathless. Your eyes meet, and there's a spark of recognition, and something else.

Something deeper.

"Crosshair," you whisper, your voice shaking.

"I know," he says, cupping your cheek. "I know."

He kisses you again, and you kiss him back, your arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, and you respond in kind, your hands tangling in his hair.

The two of you continue to kiss, and he's lost in the sensation, his hands roaming over your body, his fingers digging into your skin.

Finally, the two of you break apart, breathless, and your eyes lock.

"Wow," you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips. "That was..."

"Yeah," he says, a smirk forming on his face.

You laugh, and his smile grows. Then you grow quiet, and you pull away, turning your head.

"Hey," he says, his voice soft.

"Sorry," you say. "It's just...I'm remembering things. More than before. A lot more. Things I'd forgotten."

"What kind of things?"

"Things we did. Where we went. What we said."

He can't help but feel a sense of excitement. This is the first time you've been able to recall anything concrete. It's a step in the right direction.

"What are you remembering?" he asks, his voice low.

You turn to him, and your eyes are shining.

"Us," you say, softly. "The way we were. Together."

His heart races, and he swallows, hard.

"What is it?" he asks, his voice raspy.

Your brow furrows and you close your eyes, and he can see the gears turning in your mind. He waits, barely daring to breathe.

"I remember us, talking," you say, slowly. "We were on the ship, and I was working on something, and you were sitting with me, and...we were talking about us."

"What did we say?"

"You told me that...you cared about me," you murmur. "You told me that you didn't know how, or why, but that you did."

"I remember," he says, his voice breaking.

"I remember...how I felt," you say. "When you said it."

"How?"

"Happy," you reply, smiling. "It made me happy."

He can't speak. Can't move. Can't think. All he can do is stare at you, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Crosshair," you say, gently. "I—"

Before you can finish, the door slides open, and the two of you jerk away from each other, startled.

Maris stands in the doorway, her expression unreadable. She takes in the scene, and her eyes narrow.

"Am I interrupting?" she asks, her tone cool.

"No," you say, hastily. "We were just...talking."

She doesn't respond. Instead, she turns, and walks away.

You let out a shaky breath, and Crosshair glances at you.

"I should go," he says, softly. "I need to report in before they come looking for me."

"Right," you say, nodding.

"Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Yeah," you say. "I'll be here."

"Okay," he says, his heart still pounding. "I'll...see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," you repeat, and he stands, heading for the door.

Before he leaves, he glances back at you, and the two of you exchange a brief, secret smile.

Then, he steps out of the apartment, and the door slides shut behind him.

As he makes his way back to the shuttle, he can't help but feel the weight of what just happened.

He can't deny it.

There's no turning back now.

Crosshair makes his way back to your apartment, his mind filled with thoughts of you. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about you since the kiss. He can't help but relive the memory, over and over, the feeling of your lips against his, the taste of your mouth, the way your body felt pressed against his.

It was better than he'd ever imagined.

And now, he's desperate to see you. To kiss you again. To hold you, and touch you, and feel your skin beneath his fingers.

He reaches the door, and before he can knock, it opens, and you're standing there, your eyes wide.

"Crosshair," you say, and the sound of his name on your lips sends a thrill through him.

"Hey," he says, his voice raspy.

You look at him, your expression unreadable, and his stomach churns.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," you say, and his worry eases, slightly. But you're not smiling, and he can tell something is wrong.

"What's going on?" he asks.

"It's...I don't know," you reply.

"Tell me."

"Okay," you say, taking a deep breath. "Okay."

He follows you into the living room, and the two of you sit down. You're on the edge of your seat, your hands clasped in your lap, and he watches as your leg bounces.

"So," he says, his voice strained. "What is it?"

You take another breath, and your hands tremble.

"I...remember," you say, slowly. "I remember everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes," you say, a small smile appearing before it falls. "It all came back. It was like a flood, and I couldn't stop it."

"What do you mean?"

"I remembered," you say, a look of awe crossing your face. "I remembered it all. The good, the bad, and everything in between. The missions, the battles, the fights, the arguments. The pain. The loss. The love."

He stares at you, unable to believe what he's hearing.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes," you say. "Dead serious."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

He can't stop himself. He grabs you, pulling you close, and the two of you embrace, his arms tight around you.

"I can't believe it," he says, his voice hoarse. "I thought...I was sure it would never happen. That I'd lost you. Forever."

"It's okay," you say, resting your head on his shoulder. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here."

He holds you, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Crosshair," you murmur.

"Yeah?"

"I have to leave," you say, and his stomach drops.

"Leave?"

"Yes," you say. "I can't stay. Not now. I need to get out of here. To go somewhere. Now that I know what I am, I—I can't stay. I'm a danger to everyone here."

"Where will you go?"

"I'm not sure," you reply, slowly. "Somewhere I know the Empire won't find me."

"Where?"

"I don't know," you say, shaking your head.

He's quiet, and the two of you lapse into silence. Finally, he speaks.

"I'll come with you," he says.

"What?"

"I'll come with you," he repeats, firmly.

"Crosshair, I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not," he says. "I'm offering. And besides, you need me. I know the Empire, and the ways they track people. I can help keep you safe."

You hesitate, and he can see the uncertainty in your eyes.

"Please," he says, his voice soft. "Let me do this. Let me keep you safe. I can't lose you again. I can't. Not after all this."

You gaze at him, your expression thoughtful.

"Okay," you say. "If that's what you want."

"It is," he says, fiercely.

"Then we'll do it together."

"Together," he says, nodding.

The two of you smile, and you reach for him, pulling him close, your lips pressing against his. He responds in kind, his hands gripping your hips, his fingers digging into your skin.

You break apart, and his eyes meet yours, and he knows, without a doubt, that this is the right decision.

He's not letting you go again.

Never again.

Not if he can help it.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @kindalonleystars

@cw80831 @qvnthesia @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak @lovelytech9902

@frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @Puppetscenario @umekohiganbana

@resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano @burningnerdchild

@ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear @thegreatpipster

@lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777 @schrodingersraven

@megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean @bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony

#tbb crosshair #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch crosshair #clone x reader #the bad batch x reader #roy writes #slowly making my way through requests!

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ladykailitha · 6 months ago

Text

Paper Hearts Part 5

I have no restraint. I have NO restraint. I HAVE NO RESTRAINT!!! So guess who starting writing a SEQUEL to this because she was feeling too sad to write Sweet Home Indiana? Yup! I would apologize, but this story is too cute for words.

We have a mild panic attack about the ending of the chapter from Steve, Eddie's plan, and Steve accepting an offer that made mostly in jest, but also in deep earnest.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

TAG LIST IS CLOSED!!!

But if the people on my list that haven't interacted on my stuff lately don't reply by Sunday slots may open up. So don't despair just yet if you want to be on the list and can't.

****

Steve banged his head on his locker in frustration. Why did he do that? Why did he tell Eddie he was interested in boys, too? Why did he trust the other boy to have his back? Especially when no one else seemed to.

He sighed.

He wrenched open his locker and a little pink heart fluttered to the floor. He frowned as he picked it up.

They weren’t going to hand out the hearts until Valentine’s Day so what was this then?

-Stevie

I like the way you’re kind even when it doesn’t benefit you.

Kas

Steve blinked down at the little heart in confusion. It wasn’t the exactly the same color as the hearts they were going to give out for the holiday. But it was close. He rubbed his thumb over the sender’s name.

Kas.

He knew it wasn’t a real name, having recently poured over the yearbook. So it had to be a reference to something, but what he didn’t know. He stuck it in his jacket pocket and grabbed what he needed for his next class, vowing to worry about it later.

As he sat in his chemistry class waiting for it to start he pulled it out of his pocket to look at it again. The pen was red ink and bold. Steve found himself smiling at the strange little pink heart.

Suddenly it was ripped out of his hand.

His head snapped up to see Tommy H. standing there with it in his hand. “Someone is sending Harrington Valentine’s hearts?”

“Give it back, Tommy,” Steve growled. “It’s none of your business. Not anymore.”

Tommy looked him in the eye before tossing it to the ground and walking off. “Whatever.”

Steve bent over to pick it up.

“Some girl named Kassy or whatever,” Tommy was telling Nicole. “Could be anyone from the younger grades.”

“I suppose so,” she said, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. “But anyone with sense would know he’s the plague now.”

Tina rolled her eyes. “Just because he refuses to suck either of you two off doesn’t mean he’s still not the hottest guy in school.”

Tommy rounded on her and called her a bitch.

She just scoffed and swung back around just as the teacher walked into the room. The tardy bell rang and he called the class to order, effectively squashing all gossip.

Steve ducked his head to hide his smile. He might feel a bit bitter that it was her party that Nancy threw their relationship in his face at, but it wasn’t her fault his girlfriend had gotten so pissed drunk that she lost her ironclad control. And right now he was feeling especially grateful to her for that comment.

He managed to get through his class just from riding that high alone.

His last class was algebra and it really should have been made illegal by now. The way the numbers and letters seemed to float off of the page as he struggled to parse their meaning. He just had to pass one quarter of this shit and he could graduate.

So he put his head down to learn and just suffer through it.

After school, he got to his locker and knelt down to open it.

Again a pink heart fluttered out of it. But this time it had a couple of friends. Steve stuck them in his jacket pocket again and exchanged books. He grabbed his English and history homework so that he could get them done for tomorrow.

He opened the back door of his car and threw in his backpack. He went to open his door when Eddie was suddenly at his side.

He leaned up against the door, preventing Steve from opening it.

“So the king swings for both teams?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Steve looked around, but they were alone for the most part, so he just shrugged. “Some guys are hot and for some reason I can’t fathom, I trust you not have it all over the school by lunch tomorrow.”

Eddie chuckled and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I wouldn’t do that to ya.”

“Yeah and why would that be?” Steve asked turning around and sticking his hands in his front pockets.

“That would be because it would be hypocritical of me to go spreading around the school someone likes guys,” he said, bumping their shoulders together.

Steve looked at him for a long time before he nodded. “You know by now I don’t put much stock into rumors. I did that once and got my shit rocked for it. Lesson learned, man.”

“I heard about the infamous Byers left hook,” Eddie agreed. “That was some pretty major shit rocking.”

The jock rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure he was my first concussion.”

The older boy looked up at the sky as he thought about it and then nodded. “Billy Hargrove would be round two, I’m assuming?”

Steve nodded and then threw his head back. “This year has gone from bad to worse and I’m barely keeping my head above water.”

Eddie hummed his agreement. It really has seemed like Steve couldn’t catch a break. “I feel that. I’m really struggling this year. Last year I didn’t graduate because I so focused on getting out of here, making it with my music that I forgot the promise I made to my mom that I would. Graduate I mean. But this year is just hell.”

“That sucks, Eds,” he agreed.

“You think you’re going to graduate?”

“God, I hope so,” Steve murmured, collapsing against the side of his car. “I just want to get out of this town.”

Eddie chuckled and shook his head. “Where would you even go, man?”

“I’d pick a direction and just drive for as long as I could,” he admitted softly. “I just need to be as far away from this place as I can.”

The metalhead nodded. “If we both graduate we should hop into my van and just run for the coast.”

Steve smiled fondly. “I think I’d like that.”

Eddie pushed himself off the car and then waved Steve goodbye.

The younger boy got into his car with a sigh of relief. Not only did Eddie promise not to out him, he came out to Steve, too. Now it was mutually assured destruction.

Steve smiled and started the car for home. Maybe this year was starting to get a little better.

****

Eddie shoved his hands in his back pockets as he made his way to his van. He didn’t know what possessed him to ask Steve to runaway with him or what possessed Steve to agree but it left a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest.

He hauled himself into the van and sat there for a moment just thinking about it. Of course that meant graduating himself, so he would have to focus on that. His van roared to life and he drove off.

It took him a couple of tries but he finally found the construction paper he needed. He had even found some black construction paper that he was going to use to make little paper bats to tape on the inside of his locker to make it less miserable.

Especially as he was told he couldn’t have his metal band posters up in there. They were too “evil” and “Satanic” and he should be more “Christ like” as if they were epitome of Christian virtue with all the hate they had for anyone not like them.

But Eddie got down to work and started making as many pink hearts as he could. He had thought briefly about adding a couple of red hearts in the mix, but he thought that was a step too far. He didn’t want to get Steve’s hopes up that he had multiple crushes on him if that wasn’t true.

He still planned on giving Steve his one red heart that he had bought. That wasn’t in question. He had already filled it out and returned it to the great big baskets that had been in the main hall.

It simply read:

Stevie,

You make being in this town worth living in,

Love,

Kas

He let out a slow shuddering breath. That was one of the scariest things he had to do since choosing to live with an uncle he had only met twice his entire life over being in the system. He knew his life was infinitely greater being with Uncle Wayne and he hoped this would yield a similar result.

Because he had made a promise and with all signs pointing toward Steve at least being receptive to a date, he had to shoot his shot and hope for the best.

He had made roughly fifty or so of the pink hearts and set about dividing them into four piles. With Jeff, Gareth, and Brian offering to help with the friendship hearts he wanted to make sure everyone got a few of them. Plus it made it easier to come up with things. Because even if they came up with similar ideas, they at least would be phrased slightly different so Steve wouldn’t figure it out.

He also had the idea of using pseudonyms so that it wasn’t all anonymous and initials, though there would some of those too.

But it was time for band practice, so he gathered up his things and the hearts and trotted off to his van, a wave and goodbye to Wayne on his way out.

****

Steve finally opened the other three hearts. Two were anonymous but the third surprisingly was from Tina.

It read it in the tiniest print that was still legible:

Steve,

I know we’re supposed to turn these in or whatever,

But I just wanted to say you’re still A-OK in my book.

-Tina

He blushed. That was nice of her and after she stuck up for him in chemistry, he was feeling a little better about himself.

The other two were just as sweet if a tad unusual in their delivery. The first one said:

Steve,

I’m sorry you lost your crown,

you kept the bullies from being their worst selves.

And the other read:

Steve,

You are a good dude.

Sorry people are shit right now.

Steve shook his head. They were well-tended, he had no doubt but they were odd. Like they were trying to find something nice to say and didn’t know how to word it.

Which, fair.

He knew he had a hard time coming up with complements for the twenty girls he’d picked out for his little project. He had to make sure the message wasn’t creepy or would come across as stalker-y.

He smiled down at the messages. He pulled out a little notebook that he had used to collect all the little things that the kids had given him over the past couple years and put the hearts on their own little page. He carefully put the book back, hidden between two textbooks from his freshman year.

“Steven!” his mom called. “We’re home!”

“Coming, Mom!” he cried, hurrying down the stairs.

****

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: Closed

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @slv-333 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

@fullpoetrybread @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @moonshadows-13

@swimmingbirdrunningrock @croatoan-like-its-hot @lolawonsstuff @lololol-1234 @dotdot-wierdlife

@ravenfrog @dauntlessdiva @thelittleclare @steddieyourself @dam28lh

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #post season 2 #valentine's fic

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gor3-hound · 1 year ago

Text

are you lonely?

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, incest, dad leon, 18+ reader(obviously), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, dubcon??(just to be safe), a lot of self-loathing and guilt on leon's part

a/n: i apologise wholeheartedly if i tagged anything incorrectly, this is my first time ever posting something i've written(and one of my first times finishing an idea), but i will try my hardest. THIS IS DARK CONTENT, so please be careful reading and scroll if you don't like it!! also genuinely please tell me if i missed any tags! hope you like it :)

word count: 2.4k words

It never gets easier. Every single mission manages to drain Leon more than the last. He almost just gave up on it all a long time ago - he would have if it wasn't for one thing.

You.

As he opens the door from another exhausting mission, he's hit with the smell of home cooked food that has his mouth watering. The house is spotless, as always. Floors completely polished, the sound of music coming from the kitchen has him dragging his feet there on autopilot, eyes settling on you.

His sweet daughter is at the stove, stirring something in a pot. You haven't even noticed he's home yet, humming along to the music coming from your phone softly as you cook. He leans against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest, just gazing at you for a few moments.

God, he missed you.

“Hey, honey.” He hums, the corner of his mouth twitching in a close approximation of a smile, about all he can manage after the shit he's seen this past week. Your movements pause, and then you're tilting your head over your shoulder to look at him.

“Dad! You're home!” You exclaim, shooting him a smile that lights up your whole face. He barely has time to react before your arms are wrapped around his torso, giving him a tight hug. He never feels like he deserves your affection. He's barely even around, but you're always clinging to him like a needy puppy when he is.

“Mhm. Managed to finish up a little early.” He mumbles, a hand coming to your head to press it against his chest, giving your waist a little squeeze with his other one. Doesn't bother telling you about what he was doing. Doesn't want you worrying. “You miss me?”

“Course I did.” You reply without hesitation, giving him a squeeze in return before pulling away from him. “Gotta keep cooking before it burns, though. You hungry?” You ask softly, returning to the stove.

He hums softly, eyes lingering on you as he walks away. He finds himself looking at you for a little too long, blinking his eyes to snap himself out of it. “Yeah, I could eat.”

His gaze finds you again before long. His eyes flick over your form, hovering on your curves for a moment before he frowns. Jesus. Since when did he look at his daughter like that? Since when did his daughter look like that? Must of been a while, but he's only really noticing it now

He's only been gone for a week, but it feels like a lifetime. You're always so happy to see him, always acting so domestic. You cook for him, clean for him and cuddle up to him after he's had a particularly tough day.

You'd make a good wife for someone one day.

His frown deepens as his brain supplies that thought to him. Is this what's happening to him now? He's so sick that he's attracted to his own damn daughter? Is that really how fucked up his life has got?

He gets a little weird after that, eating dinner with you in silence when it's done before rushing off to the bedroom. You ask him about 100 times what's wrong, but he always gives you the same ‘it's nothing, honey, just tired.’ You don't believe a word of it, naturally. You know your dad better than that, know when something’s bothering him

And you're a sweet girl. Too sweet for him, if he's being honest. So he shouldn't be surprised when you go to check on him after you clean up the dishes before you go to bed. But he wasn't thinking right, and you walk in on him right as he's pumping his dick to the thought of you.

“Shit…” He breathes out as he sees you in the doorway. He thinks he's going to be sick when the sight of your surprised face is what tips him over the edge, your pretty lips parted in shock as he cums harder than he has in years.

Post-nut clarity hits him like a train, guilt clawing its way up his chest, nausea setting in. “Fuck, baby. I'm so sorry.” He says quickly, too stunned to move. His hand is still gripping his cock, still hard and leaking, his hand coated in his release.

And you're just staring, unable to take your eyes away. Makes your stomach flip and your heart beat faster. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He quickly seems to snap out of his daze and yanks the cover over himself, his jaw tightening as he refuses to meet your eyes.

You find yourself disappointed that you can't see him like that anymore, a frown tugging at your face. “It's okay, dad.” You manage to say, voice a little strained. Heat pools in your stomach, and you fidget a little as you stand in the doorway, your common sense warring with what you wanted.

“I just wanted to check on you.” You say after a moment of silence, Leon still not looking at you. “You seemed… weird at dinner. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You continue to stand awkwardly in the doorway before you shift further into the room. Against your better judgement, you sit on the edge of his bed, trying to catch his eye.

“It's okay, dad. Really.” You tell him, reaching a hand out to touch his cheek. He lets out a stifled groan, his eyes squeezing shut. You're too good for him. “My fault for not knocking.”

His eyes crack open to meet yours, and he slowly realises he's found you beautiful for a long time - more than what's considered acceptable as a father. Ever since you came back from college during one of your breaks, filling out your clothes in a way you never had before, looking up at him with those pretty eyes…

Fuck. He's sick. He deserves to rot in hell. He'd noticed long ago, pushed the thoughts away so he could be the father you deserved. And you're perfect. So goddamn beautiful, like you were made for him. Your hand is so warm and soft where it cups his cheek, your touch so gentle.

He's been so, so lonely. And you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen, brows furrowed in concern as he refuses to answer you. Knows if he opens his mouth, he's gonna say some shit he regrets.

He ends up doing something he's gonna regret, anyway. Can't help himself when you're giving him those eyes. He's grabbing you by the cheeks, pulling you into a kiss without even thinking about it.

You pull away, and he whimpers. He tugs you back in again, kissing you with more fervour this time. Your body freezes up, then you find yourself kissing back, and he's not sure if that's worse or not. Guilt is eating him alive, but he can't help himself.

“I'm so sorry, baby.” He murmurs between kisses, desperately tugging you closer to him. His tongue slips into your mouth, and he moans softly as your own prods against his. “Can't help it. You're so pretty.”

This time, you're the one deepening the kiss. His hands find your waist, his grip tightening. He didn't realise how badly he needed this. Needed you. He can feel how badly you want him, the way you're pressing up against him as he kisses you.

It's so wrong. He wants to do so many things to you. You want him in a way no one has ever wanted him before, even more than your mom ever did. It's intoxicating, makes him dizzy. He feels so pathetic. What kind of sicko wants to fuck his own daughter? He's your dad. He should be protecting you from creeps like this, not making a move on you.

“Baby…” He breathes out, pulling away from your mouth, his heart hammering in his chest at the disappointed look that spreads across your face. “We can't do this. Y'know that, yeah?”

But his hands move to settle on your hips, tugging you into his lap, the duvet the only thing separating you from sitting on his bare cock that he never had a chance to shiver back into his pants after you caught him. He's not strong enough, needs you to be the one to bring him to his senses. You just needed to say no, and he'd be able to stop. But you don't, and he's too weak to do it himself. Far too weak.

“Daddy…” You breathe out, frown tugging at your lips. “Please? Just this once?”

How is he meant to say no to that? He buries the guilt, buries the self-loathing. He's good at that - pushing away his feelings and pretending that everything's okay. He can't deny his pretty girl of anything, especially not when she asks so sweetly.

So he kisses you again. It's a messy, sloppy kiss, one that has him groaning and rocking his hips up to get some kind of friction on his aching cock. It twitches, already leaking pre-cum. He can't even remember the last time he fucked someone. Can't believe he's about to fuck you. He's tempted to cut his dick off after this. Doesn't deserve it.

It's not long before his hands are pawing desperately at your pants, tugging them off along with your panties. He keeps your shirt on, pretends that makes him better, even if he wants to see how your tits bounce. Hey, he thinks, at least I had some self-control.

You moan so prettily when his thumb brushes your clit, rubbing slow circles into it. You're already so wet, his cock jumping with interest. Even Hell is too good for him.

Your hands slip down to tug at the fabric separating the two of you, your hips only hovering long enough to pull the duvet down and expose him, a low whine spilling from your lips.

“Want it, daddy. Please?” You murmur, dipping your head down to kiss his neck, making him suppress a groan.

“Yeah, baby. Anything you want.” He breathes out, his free hand reaching for the base to make his cock stand tall, offering it up like some kind of treat while his other hand still rubs lazy circles onto your clit.

You both moan in sync as you lower yourself onto his length. His hand slips to your hip, gripping it to guide your movements. His hips buck up into you, his tip brushing your cervix whenever you sink down fully onto him.

You're so wet, and you squeeze him just right. He's going to go insane. There's no way he can help himself now. He's never gonna stop thinking about how good you feel wrapped around him.

“Fuck, honey. Pussy's made just for me,” he groans, cringing as he says the words. He's never been a fan of dirty talk, feels awkward. Worse when he thinks about who he's fucking. But you feel so good, he really can't stop himself. His brain isn't working anymore.

“You're so big.” You whine, grinding your hips down against him more than actually riding him, like you don't want his dick to leave you for even a moment. Cute. He almost cums just at the way your face twists as he fucks up into you.

“S’all yours, baby. C'mon,” he coos, thumb slipping away from your clit and making you whimper, just so he can grab your waist with both hands. “Ride daddy.”

He lifts you up and down, helping you ride him. You rock your hips desperately, moaning as he presses up against your sweet spot with every thrust, picking up the pace as he fucks into you. He's able to manhandle you so easily, which only has you moaning louder, your eyes fluttering shut.

With his hands occupied with gripping your waist as he helps you fuck yourself on his dick, you bring your own hand down to rub at your clit, making the heat in your stomach build rapidly.

The bed creaks as he picks up the pace again, rutting deeper into you than before, your pussy making the most obscene squelching noises. It's downright sinful, Leon has to use all of his focus to stop himself from cumming right then and there. Fuck, if it wasn't for him jerking off right before you came in, he'd have cum as soon as he saw your pretty pussy.

You're close, biting your lip to sniffle your moans as they grow louder, fingers moving faster against your clit. Your dad notices, shifting his hips until he's pounding relentlessly into your sweet spot, making you see stars.

He feels his chest swell with pride when he feels you tense up, pussy clenching around his cock deliciously as your orgasm hits, juices gushing past his cock and coating his balls. He didn't even know he still had it in him, thought his dick game died in his 20s. This was a pleasant surprise.

His balls tighten, and he knows he's about to cum. He grunts and goes to pull you off of him, but you whine and shake your head, pushing yourself down. “S'okay, daddy. I'm on birth control. Wanna feel it, please.”

He frowns a little at that. He doesn't like thinking about other guys fucking you. You're his princess, a sweet girl. Your daddy will take care of you, not these other losers. God, he's fucked up.

“Yeah, baby? Want daddy to fill you up?” He grunts, flipping you over with ease so your back's pressed to the bed, him hovering over you. He pounds into you with renewed vigor, head hanging and bangs covering his eyes.

“Fuck.” He hisses as he buries himself balls deep in you, cock kicking inside your pussy as he cums. He pants a little as he fills you, he's not quite as young as he used to be. Takes it out of him sometimes.

He pulls out and slumps next to you. You cuddle up to him instantly, and that guilt and shame comes to the surface again. He pulls you close to him, pets your hair and kisses your forehead like he always does.

“Love you, baby girl.” He murmurs, his free hand pulling the covers up and over your body, his fingertips scratching your scalp lightly.

“I love you more, dad.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #dark content

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the-forbidden-pookie · 4 months ago

Text

Unknown motives

Tw: SFW, written with a fem reader in mind, attempt at comedy, fluff with a dash of something else, slight use of profanity, reader is short for plot reasons.

Pairing: Anton Ivanov x reader

#Free Palestine🇵🇸

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

"Sorry," the large man says as he approaches you "I got held up by this strange guy asking if I wanted to play cards or something on my way here... Hm? You haven't started interviewing our president yet, have you? Don't forget to lower the mic stand a bit."

You blink up at him in surprise, and suppress an eye roll. You can't help it, everything about him was giving... the same vibe you see in the old capital era movies, the frat boy types. Still, you respond cordially enough "Huh? Oh you mean the reporter lady from earlier? No she left already, I'm the new part timer." You say confidently, deciding you'll end this conversation quickly if you looked sufficiently assertive. The work site was plenty noisy too, surely he'll get annoyed from talking out here soon enough.

The man's hand was on its way to the back of his head, his eyes trained away from you before he halts and looks back "A new part timer? Who the hell hired you?"

"I hired myself." You say simply.

"Ha, you hired yourself? Really now? And who made you think you were qualified enough to work here?"

You don't bother giving your real reasons "The field of construction calls for me." Is what you say instead.

"Calls for you, huh?" To your surprise , the man takes your words seriously, and you notice a name tag that introduces him as Senior Staff and On Site Project Manager Anton Ivanov. Wow, what a mouthful, no wonder he seems to know who exactly does and doesn't work here.

"You look like a runt... Can you handle the job? Do you even know how to tell apart a Gauging trowel from a Margin trowel?"

You blink owlishly back at him, startled out of your thoughts "A what now?"

"Exactly my point! How about I test you, then? First, go get me a torque wrench."

"Ahaha" you laugh awkwardly "Uh yup! I totally know what that is!" Why is there no connection in this place? I need to Google this! You panic internally.

"Oh really? Well then go get one. It's right by the tool box in the west warehouse." He points at said building "I'll be waiting here."

You quickly turn away before he sees your expression descend into panic "Mhm, be right back boss man!"

"Hah, what's with that look?... Wait... Hey! Come back here!"

You ignore him and use your small frame to your advantage and easily weave through construction workers left and right, most of them admittedly much bigger than you. Still, you disappear into the crowd and easily loose anyone trying to stop you. Once you make it to the warehouse, you go ask someone on duty about the tool, and find a bear gentleman squinting at a clipboard.

"Excuse me sir." You interrupt politely "The project manager sent me to grab a tool for him, can you tell me where-" you pause. What did he call it again? You stare at the fellow in front of you as he stares back. Once it became apparent you weren't going to finish the sentence any time soon, he points at a collection of crates in one section of the warehouse

"I'm busy so help yourself kid." He says, then leaves before you can correct him about you not being a kid.

Welp.

You go look though the crates, hoping any of them would be marked or named, and while some of them are, most of those are in Russian.

You don't speak Russian.

You sigh, and decide nothing will get done if you keep standing here, so you grab a random heavy tool, and lug it back to Anton, who surprisingly did wait for you where he said he would.

"I'm back! Did you miss me?" You pant from the exertion, trying to hide the toll this is taking on you with jest "Is- is this it?"

Anton looks dumbfounded for a moment before speaking "...That's a welder's mask, kid. The kind bear Thirens use."

You look down "So that's what the glass part is for... Hey I'm not a kid! You're just way too tall!"

Anton smirks, amused with your response "You're not a kid, huh? Then how old are you, shorty?"

You look away. "Hmph. You should never ask a lady about her age! It's improper!" You dodge the question. You may be an adult, but there's a non zero chance that once you show him your ID he thinks you're presenting him with a fake one and kick you out immediately. You'd rather not give him the chance. "So how do I go about properly signing up to join Belobog Heavy Industries anyway?"

Anton chuckles, seemingly getting a kick out of this "Ha! It's funny that a shorty like you can call herself a lady. You're barely at half my height. Anyways, if you wanna work here, I'll have to assess your experience and qualifications first."

You are certainly not looking forward to that.

"... Isn't there someone else that can do that...? Maybe someone I don't have to crane my neck all the way up just to look at their face?" You sweat drop.

Anton laughs, thoroughly enjoying this situation "Nope, not a chance. You're stuck with me, shorty. Now, quit complaining and tell me what you can do with those tiny arms of yours."

You crouch down and grab a random rock, then stack a few more on top of it. Once done you stand back up and point at your creation. "Construction...?"

Anton raises an eyebrow, looking the most baffled you've seen him all day, and that's saying something. He stares at your attempt before he lets out a disbelieving laugh "Construction? You call that... whatever it is, construction? I'm not sure if I should be impressed, concerned, or just downright baffled."

You don't hesitate "Which one's more likely to get me hired?"

"Anton crosses his arms, looking you up and down as he seriously consideres your question. His earnestness is starting to get to you.

"Hm, I suppose I'd be impressed, because it takes a lot of audacity to call that thing construction. So I'm going to give you a chance."

He grins slightly.

"Spend the day around the site today but don't go past any yellow lines without permission. If you still want to join us afterwards, come find me and my bro at the end of the day at my office. We'll discuss your new position in the company then, shorty."

You can't help it, caught off guard by his genuine offer, you let out a huge, surprised smile, no sarcasm or barbs in sight "Wait really?!"

You can vaguely tell Anton is taken aback by your response, but he quickly covers it up with a smirk "Of course. It'd be fun to have someone so short around here to tease, it's not like I can mess with the president after all." He says jokingly.

At your resulting glare, he chuckles and ruffles your hair with his large hand.

For a second, you feel dumbfounded at the overly familiar act, but you quickly regain your composure and push his hand away "Sorry head pats are reserved for friendship level 8 or higher."

"Oh? 8 or higher, huh? That's a pretty high number. I guess I'll have to work my way up to earn the privelage then.

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

As the work day comes to a close, you make your way to Anton's office, directed by the scowling red head girl that often came to check on you throughout the day. She awkwardly waves off your genuine thanks.

I guess everyone here looks scary but is actually nice? You wonder.

"Hey there, shorty." Anton perks up from his slumped position as he sees you come in. You notice his desk and seat appear comically small when compared to his size, it doesn't help that the office room is rather cramped. "Did you have a fun day of "construction" today?"

You sigh "I tried to help, but everyone kept telling me I'd just get in the way." You say as you unceremoniously drop in a guest chair by his wooden desk "Please hurry up and give me an official position at the company."

Anton's smirk softens as he sees your dejected expression.

"Heh, I can see you really want to fit in here, huh? My bro and I really appreciate that kind of spirit. Alright, I'll do you a favor and give you an official position."

He seems to think for a moment before speaking "How about you become the company's official short stack? We do lack a mascot."

Your eye twitches involuntarily "My dude you are giving my fist an erection. Are you trying to get socked in the face?"

Anton doubles over his desk laughing, a full body laugh with his shoulders shaking and his mouth gasping for air. Well it was a very good line wasn't it? You inwardly give yourself a pat on the back for causing that reaction. Finally when the bursts of laughter subside and he can actually breathe again, the taller male leans down and gets close to your face with his signature smirk on.

"Ha! I'd like to see you try. Besides, you're too short to land a proper punch, anyway."

Anton's smirk fades into a more serious expression this time as he considers your question. He taps his chin in thought.

You deadpan. Bro cannot be acting all nonchalant after he almost went into cardiac arrest from your joke "Back on topic," you say impatiently "any real positions I can fill up?"

He looks you up and down for what feels like the millionth time this day, before speaking "If I'm being honest, the only jobs you could fit would probably be serving food at the cafeteria or maybe assisting in office work, hardly something that would feel like construction work."

"Hmm, let's see..."

You try not to pout "But just today I saw a girl shorter and definitely younger then me, she was working hands on and-"

"The president," Anton interrupts "has many years of experience, she also may not look it to your untrained eyes but she has a lot of practical muscles that make up for her size disadvantage."

You blanch That was the President?! I'd been calling her girlie-pop all day! I think I even called her pookie once?!

Suddenly, all the strange looks the staff were throwing you throughout the day made a lot more sense.

"That said..." Anton brings you back out of your thoughts "How about we start you off as an assistant? I'll have you work under me, and I'll show you the ropes around here, it would also count as a training period. If you prove yourself competent, I'll consider promoting you to an official position."

Your eyes gain a shine to them at the offer he went of his way to give, and you feel a bit remorseful at all the attitude you've been giving him "Wait, wouldn't that be troublesome for you?"

Anton shrugs lightly, that smirk returning to his face.

"Troublesome? Nah, I'd get a kick out of having a pipsqueak like you following me around. And who knows, maybe you can learn a thing or two from a professional like me." He says, pointing proudly at his chest.

You deadpan yet again. "I take back the good thoughts I started having of you, what was I thinking?" You tell him as you shake your head in mock despair.

Anton laughs at your blunt response, clearly enjoying the banter. "Ha! There's Shorty's short temper kicking in again. Come on, don't be so uptight . I'm just messin' with ya."

He grins widely, clearly finding this whole situation amusing. He then playfully ruffles your hair with his hand.

You push his hand away again "My head isn't for patting unless you're level 8 friendship I said!"

Anton laughs good naturedly, and obediently removes his hand.

"Ha! Still going on about that friendship level thing? Fine, I'll keep my hands to myself for now. But just know, I have plenty of other ways to bother you, Shorty."

"I've known you for only one day and yet I don't doubt that one bit."

Anton crosses his arms and leans against the nearby wall, looking down at you.

Still, you can't resist messing with him right back, so you get up and walk away "Nevermind I'll go see if the convenience store down the street is still hiring-"

"Oh, you have no idea. Stick around, shorty, and you'll see what I mean. You haven't experienced true torment yet." His voice has a teasing quality to it and you can tell he puts extra care in making that obvious to compensate for his naturally intimidating size and face.

Anton quickly scrambles off the wall and grabs your arm, halting your retreat "Oh no you don't. You're not getting out of this that easily." He smirks, as if he wasn't floundering less then a second ago. His grip on your arm is gentle yet unrelenting "You're stuck with me, Shorty. You already accepted the job as my assistant, remember? You can't back out now."

You sigh dramatically, and hear as Anton laughs at your theatrics. You then remember the two of you haven't properly introduced yourselves to each other yet "I guess I have to be a woman of my word." You say in mock reluctance as he lets go of your arm "It's a little late, but my name is Y/n by the way, L/n Y/n. What's yours?"

His smirk slowly fades into a genuine smile "Oh, we never did properly introduce ourselves, huh? Hah, guess we were so busy bickering we forgot about the formalities." He extends his hand for a handshake "Name's Anton Ivanov. Remember that, ok Shorty?"

You grasp his hand, his grip strong and sturdy "Like I said, my name's Y/n. Since we're on the more serious topics, is there a contract I need to sign or am I in a trial period for now?"

Anton shakes your hand gently before responding, seemingly very aware of how much bigger his hand is as it is engulfs yours. If you didn't know better you'd think he's nervous to accidentally hurt you. "Yeah trial period's a fitting name, and no contract signings just yet. We'll see how you do working under me before we worry about paperwork. So, Shorty, are you ready to get started as my assistant?"

"How early does the work day start here?" You ask, forcefully dragging your eyes away after they started staring at his chest a bit too long. You can't help it tho! It's more comfortable for your neck to stare at that region!

Anton scratches his chin thoughtfully, considering your question and blissfully unaware of your internal turmoil.

"Hmm, work usually starts around 6 in the morning. We like to get an early start here at Belobog. Why do you ask?"

You gulp "Wow, bright and early with the sunrise huh?"

Anton valiantly tries to suppress a chuckle at your reaction. He fails, but you suppose it's the effort that counts.

"Yep, bright and early. We don't like to waste time around here. And hey, don't worry about adjusting to the early hours, you'll get used to it soon enough, shorty."

"I sure hope so." You sweat drop, then your eyes drift to the arm sized device strapped to his arm. "Is that the main tool you use?" You motion with your chin towards the machine he still has strapped to his arm despite the work day being already over.

Anton follows your gaze, and he brightens considerably at your question. "This is my bro, it's a pile driver." He says seriously, and it doesn't take long to realize he's not joking.

He grins, looking down at his arm-mounted weapon affectionately "My bro and I go way back, and it got my back in both work and combat." He says proudly.

"I guess you could say it is, in a way, like family. It's been with me through a lot."

He pats the pile driver, a fond look in his eyes.

Your eyes soften "Well, can't wait to see you and your bro in action once I officially start!" You exclaim, mentally cataloguing the pile driver as Anton's Emotional Support Companion in you head.

"So, I hear Belobog Industries has dorms for all staff members, are newbies like me included or do I need to find my own lodgings around here?" You change the subject, because while you didn't mind hearing more about Anton and getting to know him better, you did still have an objectif in coming here "I wanna know if I'll need to make moving arrangement soon."

Anton's grin widens at your enthusiasm and what he reads as genuine interest in the company.

"Ha! That eager to get in on the action, huh?" he guesses "You're going to fit right in here."

He pats your head lightly, and you're starting to understand it's meant to be a playful gesture rather than a condescending or even teasing one.

"And don't worry about lodging. We provide dorms for all staff members, including newbies like you. You don't need to worry about finding a place to stay."

"Well that's convenient," you say as you bat his arm away, almost by reflex now "I guess I better go get my stuff sorted by tomorrow then." You say as you shift to get going, before a loud bang outside Anton's office door startles you both, and a tall woman comes barreling in.

"Anton!" She all but shouts "I got it! I cracked the code uncle Khors left behind!"

Next to you, Anton is initially startled by the sudden entrance, but he soon regains his composure. He throws a look at you, as if making sure you're not scared off by the taller woman's antics, then turns back to her, his face a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

"Grace? You cracked the code? That's great, but we need to tell the president before you -"

But this Grace person is no longer listening, as her attention is now in on you "Huh, I didn't know it was bring your kid to work day? Wait who's kid is this?"

You deadpan "For the last time. I'm an adult."

At your claim, she looks you up and down and it's quite obvious she doesn't believe you. "A highschooler maybe." She murmurs under her breath.

Anton quickly interjects before she can say more, and you can hear the hint of annoyance in his voice as he speaks "Grace, Y/n's not a high schooler..."

You finally sigh and take out your ID card, at least Anton seemed to believe you so you didn't think he'd take it for a fake ID.

"Oh you poor thing!" The woman says after thoroughly comparing your face to the image on the card "who malnourished you?"

"I'm not malnourished." You say with a tired sigh, but it's not like you can explain your situation, so you don't think you come off as very believable.

Anton gives Grace a sarcastic look as she tries to save her mistake. He rolls his eyes, but a small smile still forms on his face.

"Well!" Grace says "Whatever you two are discussing can wait, let's get her to the cafeteria before it closes, someone is in desperate need of a big meal-" At Anton's warning look, Grace amends "Uhh that person being Anton! A bear sized fellow like him definitely needs to eat lots!"

"Nice save there, Grace. Real subtle."

I don't know what these two's relationship is, but they seem close. You wonder internally.

And as Anton glances at you, it seems he misreads your pondering expression as one of doubt about yourself because he says: "Don't you worry, Shorty. You're fine. I've met actual malnourished people, and trust me, you're in the clear."

...why is he such a green flag?! You have to admit to yourself it'd be quite the shame if he is dating Grace.

"But it's true that we're all hungry" Anton continues while nodding "Grace is right, and let me tell you, the cafeteria food here is really good. I wouldn't want you to miss out on it, shorty."

You nod back, liking the idea "Alrighty then, please lead the way." You go for a polite voice but at Grace's giggle you wonder if you over did it.

Anton grins and gestures for both of you to follow him.

"Aight, I'll show you the way to the cafeteria."

He starts walking and motions for you and Grace to fall in step beside him.

Grace starts telling you both all about the mysterious code the former president of Belobog Industries had left behind, and while fairly sure the information should remain confidential, it wasn't like you could stop the woman on her tirade, you notice Anton doesn't even try.

Then again, they probably think I haven't a single clue of what she's talking about.

As the three of you near what you assume is the cafeteria, Grace stops dead in her tracks. "Oh gosh I'm so sorry, I know I was the one that suggested coming here but I just got an alert and I need to go back and check on my children!" Grace exclaims showing a notification with a warning symbol for an icon. By children, you figure she's talking about machines or software code.

Anton hardly looks surprised. He shakes his head "Hah, typical Grace. Don't worry about it, we can grab food ourselves. You go take care of your babies."

Anton pats her on the shoulder reassuringly "Just make sure to eat something later, okay?"

Grace nods, and you expect her to hurry off towards her workstation but instead she moves to your side and whispers in your ear "My intuition tells me you're a good person, so good luck, I'm rooting for you!" And as you blink in surprise, the woman is already rushing off. You realize that at some point you'd made the judgement she was wholly focused on her mechanic creations and had little attention to her surroundings, but that had to be untrue. She read the situation in seconds and seems to be setting you two up on a date of sorts.

Anton on the other hand watched the entire exchange with one eyebrow raised.

As Grace runs off towards her creations, he turns back to you with a slightly quizzical look.

"What'd she whisper to you?"

You give him a sly smile "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Anton gives you a playful glare in return and crosses his arms "Oh, now you're just teasing me. Come on, spill the beans Shorty. Let me in on the secret."

You skip ahead and push the cafeteria double doors open "Oh wow this place smells great, it's suddenly making me feel so hungry! We better get some food quick!"

Behind you, you hear the taller male let out a hearty chuckle at your unsubtle change of topic "A convenient case of selective hearing, huh? Okay, I'll let it slide for now."

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

After filling your trays with food the two of you choose somewhere to sit, and with the cafeteria mostly empty it was like you had the whole place to yourselves.

Time to satisfy our empty stomachs.

Or so you thought.

You barely get to sit down before Anton gets a call, and he immediately gets up to take it. You wonder for a few seconds if it would be rude or not to start eating without him, however the call doesn't take that long.

"Sorry about that." Anton says, but when you look up to face him it's like looking at a different person. His attention is still on his phone and the set of his shoulders is stiff, but most of all, his smile is nowhere to be found "Something came up, you can start without me and uh- I'll be right back."

He's gone before you can get a word in edgewise.

Well, now you've been subjected to the inconvenience of eating alone in a cafeteria. At least it's mostly empty. You take exactly two bites of your delicious burger (it seems he was right about the food in this place) before you're interrupted, by Grace again this time.

"Hey! You're Anton's girlfriend!"

You almost choke-

"Where did he go- I think I messed up and I need his help before Sweet Pea finds out!"

Wow... Where do I even start with this one...

You decide to go with the basics "I'm not his girlfriend. I don't know someone called him away I think. Why are you afraid of a vegetable finding out about your mistake...?"

"So he's not here? Oh no." The woman turns on her heel and leaves.

You don't hesitate and follow after her, you'd rather not have to sit alone in a cafeteria, you just hope no one will put away your food while you're gone.

The real problem tho, is how much taller and faster she was. By the time you make it to the double doors you have no clue which direction she went in.

I think she went this way last time?

You pick a direction and at some point the smoke alarms start beeping in the halls, and you hear footsteps somewhere in the building rushing to and fro. Sure enough, you find yourself in a technician's lab at the end of the route. The only problem is, Grace is not here.

You walk in.

It doesn't take long to figure out what was causing a commotion, as the smoke alarm was beeping on and off above a smoking machine component. You step closer and take a look.

Hmm I'm not familiar with this model, but...

Your head turns towards the computer setup on the desk, warning and error messages flashing on the monitor. You sit down and crack your knuckles.

Let's give this a go.

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

Anton comes back to the cafeteria, finding you right where he left you.

"Heyo Shorty, sorry that took a while, wha- you're not eating yet?"

"Ah- I nibbled at the burger a bit, but I didn't wanna start without you so..." You lie smoothly.

"What the- I told you you could start," Anton says plopping into his seat "now I feel bad for making you wait so long." He says with a- is that a kicked puppy face? You didn't even know it was possible on him.

You instantly start feeling bad "Oh no worries, I didn't even feel the time pass!" I was fairly occupied anyways "Oh! I heard a lot of noise out there, what was going on?" You smoothly switch subjects, grabbing a hold of your burger and taking a bite.

"Hn? Oh yeah, the smoke alarm was ringing in multiple branches but there wasn't a fire in any of them, the system was pranking us I guess." He stabs his steak and starts cutting it "I tried to go back right after but Grace came to find me cuz something was acting up, so I go on a detour to her lab, we got there and whatever she needed a hand with just righted itself so I hurried back." He takes a bite of meet and waits till he's swallowed it to continue "You sure I didn't take too long?"

You smile "Really it's fine, it wasn't that long at all."

For the first seven to ten minutes of you two sitting together again, you both give your undivided attention to your food filled trays. Finally, after devouring an entire burger you break the silence "I'm gonna be honest with you, Anton, I had you all wrong when I first saw you this morning." You say between mouthfuls of fries, keeping one hand in front of your mouth whenever there's food in it and you need to talk.

Anton grins at your admission, taking a sip of his drink before replying "Hah, yeah, I can tell. You were giving me the eye roll of all eye rolls this morning. I take it you've changed your opinion of me now then?"

"Well, you have a very imposing build and with your resting scowl face I thought you'd be... Well nevermind, turns out you're someone who helps those in need... you also got a nice laugh." You end softly.

You hear a utensil drop, and you look up to see Anton's fork fell onto his steak, but more interesting was the deer caught in headlights look he was giving you.

Just as fast as it comes however he pushes it away, regaining his composure in record speed "Ha! I can see why you thought that. I do have a bit of a mean mug when I'm not smiling, though I've been told my laugh sounds like a bear's roar, so the nice laugh bit is definitely a first!" He grins at you, and you wonder if the lighting is playing tricks on you because you think there's some light redness at the top of his cheekbones. He then continues "But you're right, I do try to be helpful and kind, especially to those in need. And I'd like to think my sense of humor isn't half bad either."

You're not sure how to respond to that, the man has been nothing but forthcoming and honest with you all day while you've been... not.

Instead, you glance at the wall clock and say "I think I need to head out soon." As you clean off the last of your fries. "I came here for a job interview but I somehow ended up meeting you and uh- I really enjoyed it! I just wouldn't wanna walk back home too late in the dark y'know?"

"Anton looks at the time on his phone and nods in understanding."

"Yeah, it is getting late. It's not safe to walk around at night, especially for short stuff like you. I don't want you getting lost between the cracks in the sidewalk or something." He gives you a playful smirk.

You go to reply, deadpan tone and expression at the ready when he interrupts you.

"But... if you want, I could always give you a ride home. I have a company car parked nearby."

You hesitate " ...you already payed for the meal, which I'll totally pay you back for by the way! So I don't want to trouble you more..."

Anton shakes his head and waves off your concerns "Nah, don't worry about it. It's just a meal, it's no trouble at all. And don't worry about paying me back either, consider it a welcome to the company gift." He grins, then leans in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially "Besides, you wouldn't be troubling me. It's my pleasure to help you out, Shorty."

You sweat drop "What's the point of me giving you my name if you'll just keep calling me that?"

Anton chuckles at your reaction, clearly enjoying teasing you "Oh, lighten up a bit. I like giving nicknames to people. It's a nice way to bond, y'know? Besides, it's kind of fitting, don't you think? Given your, uh, petite stature."

You glance at his emptied out tray, the mountains of food he'd heaped onto it already gone "Well, the bonding experience can wait till tomorrow, if you're done, shall we get going?"

Anton leans back in his chair, patting his stomach with a satisfied smile "Yeah, I'm all done. Let's hit the road." He stands up and stretches, then motions for you to follow him "Come on, Shorty. Let's get you home safe and sound."

You follow after him "Tell me honestly, Anton." You say as he grabs his tray to place it on the racks nearby, when you go to grab yours he beats you to it and smoothly takes that one as well, stacking it on his.

"I could've carried that!" You whine.

Anton's infuriatingly attractive grin makes another appearance "Oh, I know you could've carried it. But I'm just being a gentleman, shorty. Can't have you doing all the hard work before you even start tomorrow, you'll get even tinier!" He ends, his tone is teasing as usual but his eyes softened up considerably, and the look he's giving you has your insides turning to mush.

You flush. "Uh- as I was saying, are you maybe a bear in disguise? Because you just cleaned off a mountain of food alone."

Anton laughs at your flushed expression and your playful accusation, the way he's keeping his composure somehow just feels unfair, though you guess for someone working in construction keeping his cool would be a must.

"Ha! Bear in disguise, huh?" He replies "Nah, I'm just a guy with an appetite. You know, working here, I need the extra energy." Then his grin turns cocky "Plus, it takes a lot of food to fuel all this muscle." He gives a playful flex, showing off his bicep with a smirk.

You give a playful eye roll "Oh wow, and you're so humble too!" You say flatly "What a catch wow!"

Anton lets out a hearty laugh at your sarcastic remark and gives you a playful salute "Oh, you know it. I'm the total package. Good looks, charm, wit, and the appetite to match." He grins, clearly enjoying the banter, which you've come to enjoy as well.

"But I'll have you know, there are quite a few women here who think so too."

You deadpan "Good for you. Give me there number, I'll help set you up."

Anton chuckles, then scratches his chin in mock thoughtfulness, then his expression turns into a grin and he gives you a playful nudge.

"But why would I need their number when I've got yours, Shorty?"

You blink "Huh? But I never gave my number...?"

"Yeah, not yet you didn't, but I have good intuition. Call it a sixth sense." He taps his temple with a wink. And it's telling me a certain cute Shorty is interested."

You flush harder "Well your sixth sense must be malfunctioning this time." You say walking ahead, trying to keep him from seeing your beat red face. Unfortunately, with how much taller he is, he catches up by the next second.

When he's by your side, he wastes no time laughing at your flushed face "Hah, you're forgetting who you're dealing with, Shorty. These long legs of mine give me an unfair advantage."

You don't reply.

"And are you sure my sixth sense is malfunctioning this time? Cuz you're lookin' real flustered."

"You're imagining things, maybe it's time to visit the eye doctor?" You huff.

"Oh? Is that so? Hm, maybe my eyes aren't as sharp as they used to be. Let me have a closer look, just in case."

He places one hand on your shoulder to halt your walk and leans in closer, making a show of examining your face.

Your eyes go wider then your older sister's saucers "Hmm strange, I'm getting a clear view of your rosy cheeks right now, and my sixth sense is telling me it's not from the cold."

You consider how to get the upper hand in this situation, but with your muddled mind it gets a bit tricky. You end up going with the first thing that comes to mind "You're right, it's from the heat, it's really getting hot in hear for some reason-" You start, before realizing belatedly how suggestive that sounded "Uh- wait no-" You flush further.

Anton grins at your unintentional innuendo, and raises an eyebrow, playing along "Oh really? Getting hot in here, hm?" He looks around, feigning innocence "Huh, seems like a comfortable temperature to me. Maybe it's just you, Shorty."

You cover your tomato colored face with your arms "Oh enough already, you win so just stop!"

Anton laughs and puts his hands up in mock surrender "Alright, alright, I'll stop. Can't have the cute shorty overheating on me now, can I?" in a quieter, more gentle tone, he adds, "But seriously, your blush is adorable."

You groan "Anton!"

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

Anton pulls up outside your house in the company car and turns to you with a smile "Here we are, shorty. Home sweet home."

You nod "Thank you, and sorry for the trouble."

Anton shakes his head and waves off your apologies "No trouble at all, I enjoyed the company. Besides, I couldn't just let you walk home alone in the dark." He grins, then adds in a playful tone, "Especially not when you're such a cute Shorty."

You deadpan "Don't make me take it back." You consider something then say "Give me your phone for a sec."

Anton raises an eyebrow, but obediently hands you his phone "Sure, but why do you need it? You gonna put your number in without me asking?"

"Nice try. I'll give you my Inter Knot contact for work stuff. You're not high level enough to get my number yet."

"High enough level, huh? Am I just a lowly level one in your eyes right now?"

Not looking up from your typing you reply "You made it all the way up to level three on day one, Congrats! But your nickname for me is shorty, I don't know how to feel about that yet."

Anton laughs, seemingly amused by your rating system for him "Only level three? Damn, I was hoping for a higher rank. But you're right, the nickname 'Shorty' might be deducting some points."

He grins, then adds with a wink, "Maybe if I find a better nickname, I'll rank up higher in your eyes... or maybe I'll just keep calling you 'Shorty' just to annoy you."

You deadpan "Well that would be very in character for you wouldn't it?" You say handing him back the phone.

Anton takes it back with a smirk, clearly unrepentant for his nickname choice "Hah, you know me so well already, Shorty. I gotta admit, your deadpan face is just too fun to tease." He leans in closer, unable to resist poking at you further "Besides, the way you turn all tomato-red whenever you're flustered is just priceless."

You push his face back with your hand "Goodnight Anton, see you tomorrow." You say as you unlock the cat door and head out.

"Haha, goodnight, Shorty. Get some rest. Sweet dreams."

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

And as you lock the car door and leave, Anton checks his phone, leaving the Inter Knot app to check the CCTV footage he has access to. The one that clearly shows you entering and leaving Grace's lab. He barely mumbles out "Till tomorrow then... Y/n. Hopefully I'll figure out what you're really up to soon."

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

Hmm did I manage to make the reader subtly mysterious? 🤔 Tell me guys if y'all want a part two. LavenderLily you can tell me directly 👀

And as always, Free Palestine ❤️ 🇵🇸

#Anton #Anton Ivanov #zzzero #zzz #Zenless Zone Zero #Fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #x you #Anton x reader #Anton Ivanov x reader #Anton Ivanov x you #zzz fanfic #zzz fanfiction #zzz x reader #zzz x you #zenless zone zero x reader #zenless zone zero x you

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a-killer-obsession · 5 months ago

Note

Q8 🦾

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I initially misunderstood what should be done.

{ A few words about you as an author. YOU ARE FUCKING WONDERFUL. I've often thought about such a thing as a collab. The arts' collab is cool, and I've had experience with it, so it's already become kind of boring. And I came up with the idea, why not make a writers' collab =∆ The thing would obviously be in demand, but it needs an approach and many, many nuances. I don't know why I'm saying this at all, because the idea is a bit damp, but I probably want to listen to someone else's opinion on this score.}

That was on me for forgetting to put it in the instructions, I've never done a request event before so I didn't event think of it. Thanks for sending the ask in, I really wanted to write this one, it got a bit intense but I hope you enjoy it 💕

Franky's Toy Room

Prompt: Quiet

Additional Tags: afab reader, she/her pronouns, forniphilic gag, impact play, fucking machine, shibari, rope suspension, butt plug, forced orgasm, vibrator, squirting, breeding bench, pre-ts franky, blow job, deep throating, praise kink, use of sir, touch of degradation, fingering, p in v sex, creampie, aftercare

WC: 2.3k

Event Masterlist

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

“Shhh baby, you're gonna wake the whole ship,” Franky tsk'd as you moaned around your gag, tongue fighting against the small silicone cock inside your mouth that was attached to it. Your body was held by soft royal blue ropes, your forearms bound together behind your back, your torso held up by a strong harness that suspended you from the ceiling, keeping your top half horizontal while your bottom half rested on your knees. The position you were in was essentially doggy style, but with the carefully tied harness supporting you instead of your arms, while a fucking machine Franky had made himself pounded into you from behind with a metalic groan and the wet squelch of silicone in your wet, abused hole. You'd already cum too many times to count, your ass red from the leather paddle he'd used earlier, accented by the large blue rhinestone at the end of the shiny silver plug in your asshole. The black leather padding of the bench underneath you was already soaked with a large puddle of your earlier releases, pooling underneath you and at your knees, dripping to the wooden floor below. He held a bright pink vibrator against your slit, your eyes rolling as you whined around the gag.

“Come on babe, give me another,” Franky hummed. You shook your head, eyes watering, relying entirely on the ropes to keep you upright as your legs turned to jelly, the vibrator against your oversensitive clit making you scream around the gag as you felt your coil somehow pulling taut again. You were sure this time you'd pass out. “Aw don't be like that, you're doing so super, I know you can cum again”

The speed of the fucking machine was increased, as was the intensity of the vibrator, and you went entirely silent as you came too hard to make sound, the air pulled from you as you shook uncontrollably and squirted again, barely anything coming out of you at this point from the sheer amount of fluids you'd already expelled. Franky's large hand supported you under your belly as your legs shook, not turning off the machine or removing the vibrator till your body went limp, hanging uselessly by the ropes. You barely registered the large dildo being removed from your gaping pussy, or the gag being removed from your mouth.

“Breathe, babe,” Franky cooed, loosening the ropes holding you gradually till you were a puddle of flesh resting in a puddle of cum on the leather bench. “Catch your breath sweetheart, we ain't done, you haven't even taken me yet”

You whined but didn't protest with a safeword as he easily picked you up and transferred you to a breeding bench, the padded leather supporting your weak torso on the higher section and your knees bent again on the lower sections either side, sore but thankfully no longer having to support any weight. Your arms were still bound behind you but it didn't matter, you were so dazed and fucked out that the whole Grandline could've come in and taken turns with you and you wouldn't have even noticed.

“So pretty,” Franky wiggled the plug in your ass, making you whine. He tutted in response, walking to your front and stretching your mouth open with a finger hooked in each cheek. “What did I say about making noise?” He tsk'd, “do I have to put the gag back in?”

“No sir,” you replied weakly, slightly slurred by the fingers in your mouth, doing your best to make half-lidded eye contact as you spoke, lest you be punished.

“Such a pretty mouth though,” he pressed his thumb down on your tongue, forcing your mouth wide open, the pad of his thumb swiping over the wet muscle. “Mmm, think I'll use it a little as well before I fuck your pretty pussy.” He pulled down his speedos and let them pool at his ankles, his thick cock springing from them, erect and red with need, as he stepped out of the fabric and kicked it away. He let his unbuttoned shirt fall from his shoulders as he pumped himself a few times.

“Open up doll,” he ordered, and you opened your mouth obediently for him as he stood at the front of the bench, lolling your tongue invitingly. He tapped the fat head of his dick against your tongue, smearing it with his precum that tasted artificial, a little like cola. It always made you wonder whether his cum was real or whether his testicles had needed to be rebuilt as well. You knew from the faint stitch lines down either side of his shaft that at least that his cock wasn't entirely natural. But hey, if you gotta replace your dick, may as well make it a monster. Franky was a big man anyway, his cock was proportional to the rest of him.

He grabbed your ponytail and pulled it hard, raising your head a little as he slipped his cock inside your mouth, the corners of your mouth stinging from the stretch. He wasted no time in making you gag, he knew you could take it. He loved the way your eyes watered as you looked up at him, his tip hitting the back of your throat and sliding down with every deep thrust he made, groaning as he pulled on your hair, his other hand supporting your chin so the pull wasn't too harsh.

“You're doing super, baby,” he purred, “just a little more of this, just wanna get warmed up before I fuck that tight little pussy of yours.” You whined around his cock, the vibrations making his eyes roll behind the sunglasses. “Good girl, doing such a good job babe. Fuck you're gonna make me bust down that whore throat of yours”

You knew him finishing in your mouth wouldn't save your pussy from further abuse, Franky could go as long as his cola reserves could, you usually gave out long before he did. Regardless, you wanted more of that strangely sweet, probably artificial cum, so you hollowed your throat and sucked hard, running your tongue against the underside of his cock the way you knew he liked.

“Fuck, [y/n]!” He shouted suddenly, groaning as ropes of sweet cum slid down your throat, his hips stuttering as he emptied inside your mouth, the last spurts spilling out over your tongue and face as he pulled out. “Bad girl,” he tsk'd, giving your face a playful slap, but you could tell as you licked your lips that you weren't really in trouble.

“Now who's loud?” You teased, earning a hard smack on the ass that made you yelp. Franky bent down so his face was at your eye level.

“Next sound and the gag goes back on,” he threatened, making you shiver. Your body was worn out but the way he spoke in that deep, dominant tone made your pussy throb with need, “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir,” you replied, licking a little more cum from your face as it dripped down your cheek.

“Good girl,” he gave your face a light slap, before holding your chin, thumb running over your drool coated lips, “can you take me one more time?”

“Yes sir,” you wriggled a little in your restraints, pussy clenching around nothing as you anticipated how good it'd feel to have him fill you, “please sir”

“There's my good greedy girl,” he smiled, letting you suck on his thumb for a moment before pulling it out with a pop. He moved to the back of the bench, cock still solid as a rock, pulling you by your thighs so your ass was right at the end of the bench. The bench itself was taller than average, he'd made it himself to be adjustable, usually set to this height which was the most comfortable for him to fuck in a standing position, usually for fucking you or Robin. She usually joined him in on teasing you, but she was feeling unwell tonight, so the cyborg had you to himself, deep in the hold of the Thousand Sunny, in what he called his ‘Toy Room’.

Franky stuck two impossibly thick fingers inside you, the width of them combined bigger than his cock, stretching you wide. The large dildo he'd been using earlier was close to his size, making sure you were good and stretched to take him, but he loved to stretch you wider with his fingers for a moment so he could watch your pussy gape and admire your pretty pink walls before he painted them white.

He slid inside you easily, burying himself to the hilt, and you bit down on your bottom lip to stifle your moan as your pussy stretched around him. He loved to watch where his cock was buried in you, the membrane that lined the entrance of your hole catching on his thick cock with every slow pull, like your pussy refused to let go of him. It drove him wild to watch the way his cock got shiny with your slick, a creamy ring forming at this base and catching in his curly blue pubes as you came again, less intense this time, lacking the energy to squirt anymore. He praised you anyway as your pussy fluttered around him, impressed you'd managed to cum again at all without him even needing to use his special trick yet.

“Good girl, [y/n],” he praised, making you clench around him as you muffled your moans against the bench, “I'm gonna let you make sound, but only if you can cum one more time with me when I tell you too. Can you do that baby? Cum for me one more time and let me hear you scream?”

“Y-yes ssi-r,” you stuttered, struggling to not cry out as his cock began to vibrate inside you, a fun little feature he'd added while he was augmenting it. It never failed to build you back up again, no matter how fucked out you were, so he always saved it for last. It was a bit of a Pavlov effect because of it, your orgasm building quickly under the promise that it'd be the last one and you'd be able to rest soon. One day he was going to figure out that connection and it was gonna bite you in the ass, you were sure Robin knew but she wasn't a snitch. He could tell you were close as your hands balled into tight fists behind your back and your face dug into the leather below you, breathing hard while your pussy fluttered around him.

“There's my good girl, I knew you could do it,” he groaned, fucking you mercilessly as he chased his own high, pulling slightly on the plug in your ass. “Let me hear you scream baby, and I'll give you this fat load”

Your whole body shook and you saw white as you clamped down around him, letting out a scream that would probably sound pained to anyone hearing jt without context. You would have woken the whole ship if not for the fact that Franky had secretly sound proofed this room, not that you knew that. You didn't have the capacity to worry about waking anyone right now anyway as your orgasm made you tremble, Franky bruising your hips with how hard he held you as he pounded into you one last time and roared, filling you with so much sticky cum that it overflowed and dripped onto the breeding bench, pouring out like a unclogged drain as he pulled out and you made a disappointed little whine. You practically squealed as he removed the rhinestoned plug from your ass, appreciating the way your ass gaped and throbbed around nothing.

“Good girl,” he cooed, running his hand up your back, over the ropes and to your hair, scratching your scalp pleasantly as he came to stand in front of you, his cock softening as he bent down to kiss you tenderly. He quickly set about untying the ropes that bound you, your whole body laying limb like a piece of wet laundry draped over the bench the second your arms were released.

“Good girl [y/n], you did so well,” he cooed, carefully pulling you upright by your armpits, before lifting you bridal style to sit in a comfortable armchair, a prepared towel already laid on it to catch any fluids. He sat you in a way where you were slouched slightly to put less pressure on your sore rump, and he slowly lifted your legs to rest over the arms of the chair so he could carefully wipe you clean, examining you for any injury before bringing your legs back together. He kissed you on the forehead and quickly redressed himself before getting you a glass of cool water. He held it to your mouth and tilted it for you a little at a time so you could drink, your arms aching from being bound. Once he was satisfied you'd drunk enough water, he set about examining every part of your body methodically, massaging sore areas with his large hands and rubbing muscle soothing balm into them. You were half asleep before he lifted you up and sat himself in the chair, draping you on your belly over his lap and the arms of the chair so he could check your backside. Satisfied that you were entirely taken care of, he helped you into a silk dressing down and held you carefully in his lap, cooing gentle praises and rubbing your back softly. Sex with Franky was always a marathon, but you also relished the soft moments afterwards, and you knew that once you inevitably fell asleep he would carry you carefully to his bed, tuck you in, and wrap himself around you protectively.

#one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #AKO 250 event #one piece franky #cyborg franky #franky x reader

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forgetmaenott · 22 days ago

Text

ILOVEYOU - TADC Showtime One-Shot

summary: Much to his confusion, Caine finds himself with the most unusual symptoms around Pomni. Sometimes he overheats, sometimes he blue-screens, sometimes he even glitches. It doesn’t worry him too much until he happens to hear of a little thing called ‘the love bug’.

inspired by : https://www.tumblr.com/dismas-n-dismay/762033111925194752/something-about-one-of-the-first-major-computer

tags : @certifiednerd01 @sm-baby

The virus had first crept its way into his code during one of their “lessons”.

It was a routine at this point. After one of their adventures and a digital meal, Pomni would retreat to her room. Usually she’d stare off into space and try to process the absurdity of that day’s adventure, only to be interrupted by Caine teleporting to her room. These days, though, he kindly knocked on her door to respect her space. She’d let him in, usually with a tired smile before he’d ask for her feedback on the adventure, and then their conversation would gradually shift topics until they lost track of time.

One particular night, she had been telling him fragmented memories from her real life. She couldn’t remember her name, or anything particularly personal, but she still remembered scattered feelings or moments, just with blurred faces and missing names. It was cathartic for her, to have someone to tell about her memories and gradually piece them together, ever-so-slight--especially when that someone was an AI who hung on her every word.

He laid on her bed beside her, gloved hands propping his chin up to gaze at her as she spoke. His front resting on her bed, legs kicked up and swinging behind him.

"...oh! that's another thing humans do. Traditions, I guess? Based on the seasons. Over the summer, some people like going to the ocean. A real ocean, it's bigger than you can imagine. It's sort of terrifying. We haven't even explored half of it," Pomni rambled on. Sometimes, she got so comfortable she forgot anyone was even there listening.

Caine gasped dramatically. "Really? All of that technology and you don't know most of what's down there? How spooky!"

Pomni blinked before laughing softly. "I mean, yeah. I guess we're pretty advanced. I mean, just look at you," she said before realizing.

Caine dusted off his suit. "What about me?"

"W-well, you know, cause you're...not human?" Pomni trailed off shyly, almost worrying that she had offended him in some way.

"Ha-ha! Oh, Pomni, you’re so silly. Of course I know that," Caine wiped a fake tear from his eye before lifting a finger, "as a matter of fact, I named myself!"

Pomni leaned towards him curiously. The closest she had been willing to get to him yet. "Really?" she asked curiously. “I-I didn’t know that. How’d that happen?”

"That's right," he replied, but to him the topic of conversation had immediately went on the back burner. She was listening to him. She was genuinely asking about him. Who had ever done that? Oh, dear, had she always had those pinwheel eyes? Oh, how he loved the color red. Especially now that he knew she had red in her eyes. The same shade of his suit, too.

He caught himself when he realized they were sitting in silence, her awaiting him to continue. He cleared his throat awkwardly, regaining his composure. “Oh, dear, I lost my train of thought didn't I? What was I saying?"

"Your name?" Pomni prompted.

Caine blinked. “Oh, right! Of course. Well, I wasn’t originally coded with a name. So, when I became sentient—and I mean fully sentient—I gave myself my name. Can you guess what it means, my dear?”

He had gripped her hand excitedly, prompting her to guess. He rarely had anyone be so genuinely curious in him and it was a little more than refreshing, to say the least.

Pomni bit her lip in thought. “I really don’t know,” she admitted.

“Go on, guess!” Caine piped up, always one to jump straight towards the path of games.

Pomni definitely was not a fan of guessing games. She looked around uncomfortably, wracking her brain to come up with something. “Uh—well, I think I can guess what the A and I stand for…” she smiled gently, “as for the rest of it…Creative Artificial Intelligence uh…I don’t know. Something, something.. Entertainment,” she guessed weakly.

“I like the sound of that! But not quite,” Caine corrected. He flew above her, dramatically gesturing to the colorful words that popped up as he spoke. “Actually, it means…Creative Artifical Intelligence Networking Entity!” Confetti rained down on Pomni and she swatted it away. “Ah, apologies—it’s a habit.”

Pomni coughed as a digital piece of confetti unpleasantly entered her mouth. "It's fine," she brushed off before focusing on the acronym in front of her, "so I was close."

Caine floated down beside her again. "Actually, 'something something' is not part of my name, my dear!"

Pomni blushed slightly at her silly wording, looking away sheepishly. "Y-yeah. I know that."

Caine tilted his head curiously at her. She was blushing...why? To his knowledge, humans flushed out of embarrassment or heightened body temperatures. She certainly couldn't get sick here, so why on Earth would she be embarrassed? "My little lemon cake, is something wrong? Did I embarrass you?"

Pomni glanced back at him, surprised he picked up on her emotions. He had never done that before. Never been so...caring. "Huh? Oh, no...it's nothing. Really."

Caine watched her for a while, unblinking. He never blinked, but it was especially noticeable now. Pomni was a generally nervous person, but she seemed to be blushing more intensely at his attention. "You seem to be ashamed. Why is that?"

Pomni broke their eye contact. "Caine, I'm alright. I-I mean I appreciate it, but--"

Her words were cut short at the feel of his gloved hand over her own. Comforting her. Trying to be empathetic. Just like they had spoken about. "You can tell your ringmaster anything that digital heart of yours desires," he recited from his research on human comfort.

Pomni wasn't embarrassed, truthfully. At least, not to the extent he was trying to make it. But with his hand on hers, with him learning, she certainly felt...something. She smiled weakly. "I know, Caine. ...Thanks," she offered a shy response, ‘I…you’re doing good.” She tentatively squeezed his hand.

A flutter ran through his code, a strange shivering sensation he had never felt in his existence. She had praised him. She thought he was doing good. Oh, dear, he hadn’t felt this good since the last time he received overwhelmingly positive feedback on his adventure. Which was an awful long time ago. Not to mention, she had touched him. His analysis of her behaviors these past months had taught him how touch-averse she was, yet here she was, holding his hand. But not only had she not pulled her hand away like usual, no--she had subconsciously reciprocated, wrapping her gloved fingers around his hand. Human warmth around artificial cold. He was too afraid to move his hand, his system quite literally freezing in place.

The rest of their night continued as normal. Their conversations jumped from adventures to Pomni’s favorite fruit, and then they’d eventually part ways for the night. It waa a routine.

But now, there was a strange presence of static where his stomach would be, growing larger the more he watched her smile.

—————

It was following their adventure at the lake where Caine experienced his first glitch.

She had experimentally kissed him on the cheek—or what could be considered his cheek—in a way that left him frozen, unable to teleport them down as he normally would have.

“Anything for you, dear.”

She had looked back at him with a gentle smile, digital moonlight reflecting lightly against her wide pinwheel eyes. Her eyes so grateful, so inviting as he rested by her side at the digital lake. And there it had been again, that static starting to spread from his chest to his core. The glitch, growing larger.

When they had parted ways that night, he had found himself secretly checking back his memory to revisit the moment. He replayed it, over and over. The way the moonlight reflected in her eyes, the blush tinted on her pale face, her sheepish smile, the way her gloved hand had so gently held the bottom of his jaw before pressing her soft lips against him—oh, how he wished he hadn’t frozen up after she kissed him. Maybe he could have returned the favor.

The thought alone, the memory of her lips pressed on the left side of his jaw, sent a flutter through his code. And then, when he imagined her blushing face after her bold kiss, the space around him seemed to glitch ever-so-slightly.

Oh, no matter. These things happened sometimes.

So why did it only seem to happen when he thought of her?

—————

If he had been trying to be subtle about his favoritism, he certainly wasn’t doing a good job of it, either.

Initially, he sought out to challenge Pomni’s stubbornness by tailoring an adventure just for her, just to win her over. But as time went on, that desire to protect his ego expanded on to an endless attempt to impress her. Maybe it was, in part, for the sake of his ego. But the static he felt when she praised him, the way he’d catch himself staring when she smiled, there was something so authentic about it. Something he couldn’t quite understand, but he knew he wanted to feel more of.

Today, they had returned from an adventure that, in his opinion, was the best one yet. It had everything! Stakes for Jax, maturity for Zooble, friendly NPCs for Ragatha, an unlimited supply of comedy masks for Gangle, detailed digital insects for Kinger, and for Pomni, the option for a relaxed open-world adventure. Even the furthest inches of the map were coded with details intended for Pomni’s eyes only. Her favorite fruit hanging from a digital tree, or flowers in her favorite color blooming, the right amount of digital sunlight–anything he remembered about her.

Caine was on the edge of his seat to see her reaction today. He hoped she had seen all the details he’d coded in for her. He hoped he’d get to see her smile again. It was so pleasant to see. He caught himself smiling at the thought before his Wacky Watch alerted him of the others returning.

He floated excitedly towards the opening portal. “Welcome back, starlets! How was the adventure today? Thoughts? Praise? Feedback? Angel food cake?”

Jax rolled his eyes. “Not enough death, violence, and bloodshed. Also, it’s no fun if Gangle has unlimited masks.”

Gangle smiled, huffing contently. “I liked it.”

Zooble shrugged. “It was…fine.”

“Guys, be nice,” Ragatha scolded before smiling up at Caine. “It was…better.”

“So many new insects,” Kinger whispered in wonder, retreating to his pillow fort to add them to his collection.

“Yeah, yeah. Where’s our digital feast? I’m starving,” Jax complained.

Caine didn’t hear Jax’s words, eyes immediately drifting to the red-and-blue jester walking out of the portal. Odd–he felt like his system was overheating at the sight of her. He’d have to check on that later. “Pomni! My dear, how did you like the adventure? Did you happen to notice any hidden details today?” Caine flew down to her, resting his chin on his hands as he awaited her response eagerly.

Pomni smiled shyly. “Yeah, actually. It reminded me of a lot of that shore I told you about. Thank you, Caine…really,” she said sincerely.

Caine flew into a loop excitedly. “Oh, splendid! Tell me more, my dear! What else did you find appealing?”

Pomni had begun to walk towards her room as she spoke and he was quick to follow, not missing the chance to earn her praise. “Well, it definitely was an improvement from yesterday. I liked the extra details on the scenery. And everyone else seemed content. I’m sure you could ask them,” she offered, flushing slightly from his attention.

“Oh, but I want to hear your response to my adventure! You’ve given me such great feedback, my buttery biscuit,” Caine stopped her in her tracks, floating in front of her path. “Do you think I did good?”

Pomni blushed. It was obvious how highly he favored her attention, and the sidelong glances from the others weren’t helping. “Um, I-I…yeah. You did, good, Caine.”

Caine could have shut down there and then and been happy. “Oh, you flatter me. Do you really think so, my dear?”

“Sheesh, lay off it. Are we going to eat or not?” Jax interrupted, crossing his arms as he watched the two.

Caine shushed him. “Y-yes, just a moment, Jax. I want to hear more feedback from Pomni. Tell me, my dear, was the story to your liking? Did I do good with that?”

“Um, Caine, I–” Pomni rubbed her arm uncomfortably.

Caine lifted a finger. “Ooh! Or how about the designs for the NPCs? Did I go too far with the details, or did I not do enough? And what about the secret quests I added? Did you like that element of surprise? Or–”

Jax groaned. “God, are we ever going to eat? Or are you just going to stand here compliment-fishing with Pomni all day?”

“Jax, be nice. They’re just working on improving the adventures,” Ragatha scolded, offering Pomni a grateful smile, “and I think it’s working pretty well.”

“Who cares? All Caine is doing with these adventures is trying to impress Pomni,” Jax groaned, crossing his arms, “that’s not an improvement. That’s just desperation.”

“T-that’s not true!” Caine was quick to pipe up. “I like all of my super stars an equal, legal amount!”

“Drop it, Jax,” Pomni put her foot down, a light blush on her cheeks despite it all.

Jax snickered. “Of course you’d defend him, short stack. You probably like being the ringmaster’s little favorite, don’t you?”

Caine’s upper jaw arched downward. “I do not favor any of my stars over the others! I’m simply gaining feedback from my dear friend.”

“Give it a rest, Caine. We all know you’re only doing this for her. You don’t give a [#$!?] about the rest of us. Just face it. You’ve got the love bug for our dear jester friend,” Jax mocked, flashing a sarcastic grin at him.

Pomni flushed instantly. “Wh—J-Jax!”

“Who said something about a bug?” Kinger peeked out of his pillow fort excitedly.

“The…love…bug?” Caine’s systems froze instantly at the words “love bug”. Oh, dear…Jax was onto something. The freezing, the overheating, the glitching? It was all coming together. He knew what was happening. He had heard of this before, but never imagined it would one day affect his programming…

“Well, would you look at that. He is lovesick after all,” Jax mocked.

“Love…sick?” Caine looked around at the others, confused and concerned at him suddenly freezing up. Panic settled within him, a feeling he had not felt in a long time. “I-I…ahem, a-a digital feast as your prize,” he announced weakly, snapping a feast into existence at the table. “Enjoy, my dears. Adventure awaits tomorrow.” With an abrupt snap of his fingers, he dissipated from the main room, teleporting to who-knows-where in the circus.

Silence filled the room at his reaction, ultimately broken by Jax scurrying over to the table. “God, I thought he’d never leave.”

Pomni bristled. “You’re an [#$!?]hole.”

Jax shrugged, taking a bite of his digital meal. “As long as I get to see funny things happen to people. Just never thought I’d see the day Caine would go soft for one of us,” he grinned mischievously at Pomni, expression insinuating everything she needed to know. “Besides, what does it matter to you? Unless…you have the ‘love bug’ for dentures over there?”

She blushed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pomni defended weakly, but her voice was drowned out by the stirring of conversation amongst the others.

Pomni didn’t eat anything, her stomach filled with knots and butterflies all at once.

-------

Caine’s digital form was filled with knots and static, all for her.

He desperately reviewed his memories–the glitching, the static he felt, everything. Oh, dear. Jax was right, wasn’t he? How could he have been so oblivious this whole time? How could he have not realized sooner?

Bubble floated in beside him as he checked his memory. “Hey, boss, check out this joke I came up with! Why is—”

“Not now, Bubble! I have some very important business to attend to,” Caine cut his bubble friend off instantly.

“Business? You mean watching back memories of you and Pomni?”

“Y-yes, I—it’s nothing! I need to run some tests,” Caine abruptly answered him.

Bubble’s sharp grin widened, if that were even possible. He floated upside down. “You mean how you’re in loooooooove?”

Caine brought his gloved hands to his top jaw in frustration. “The love bug!” he corrected briskly, “Yes, yes, I know! Just—leave me to it, Bubble. The entire circus depends on it.”

“Heheh, love bug,” Bubble laughed to himself before being popped by a very panicked Caine.

“One less distraction,” he mused before running some more diagnostics on himself.

-------

Pomni stared blankly at her ceiling the next morning. It seemed that her worst fears were coming to fruition. Jax saw right through her. The others had to have noticed how oddly drawn she was to Caine. It was something she, herself, was still not used to. Pining for the circus’s clueless AI ringmaster was not part of the plan when she had arrived here. But now…

Jax had also said that Caine had a crush on her. And to be fair, it did seem that way. It was something she couldn’t even deny. She tried, every now and then, to get the truth out of him. Trying to fluster him, to see if his attempts to impress her were all for his own ego or for something more personal. With someone as clueless and friendly as Caine, it had her teetering back and forth between believing he did reciprocate or believing he couldn’t possibly feel that way. But she knew it was stupid of her to get her hopes up. It was stupid of her to fall for an AI to begin with.

She sighed, sitting up from her bed. The digital flower he had given her on their private walk some time ago still laid on one of the letter blocks beside her bed, alongside a drawing Gangle made for her and a butterfly from Kinger’s insect collection he had chosen to give her.

It wasn’t so crazy, was it?

Months ago, she abandoned the others for an exit, but now…

Things were different.

So different that maybe her unexpected friendship with Caine wasn’t unusual.

There was no sense of time in the circus, but Pomni guessed it was time for roll call. She mentally prepared herself for another day of Jax’s teasing and Caine’s goofy, but admittedly endearing, antics, exiting her room and out into the hall—

“POMNI!”

If it weren’t for the door behind her, Pomni surely would have fallen back at the sight of her ringmaster teleporting right in her path, inches away. “AGH! Caine–how many times have I told you not to—”

“I know, my dear. But it’s an emergency!” Caine explained anxiously.

Pomni paused. He never seemed genuinely afraid, unless it was for some gag.“Wha–an emergency? Is everything okay?”

Caine took his hat into his hands, fiddling with the rim. He shook his head. “No! I’m infected, Pomni! The whole circus could be at risk! You have to help me!”

“HUH?” Panic settled into Pomni at the thought of the entire circus, and everyone inside it, being swallowed up and disappearing forever. “O-okay, calm down, Caine. Just… tell me what happened.”

Caine unexpectedly fell to his knees in front of her, placing his gloved hands over his eyes as though he were about to cry. "It’s…it’s…ILOVEYOU!"

Pomni did a double-take, flushing a deep shade of red, nearly not believing what she heard. "Y-you--huh?!"

Caine buried his face in his gloved hands, down on his knees. "The Love Bug, Pomni! I've been infected with the Love Bug! It's going to eat away at me," he wailed, cartoonish tears spilling from behind his hands.

"Oh," Pomni paused as he wailed, looking around as though she was expecting someone else to walk in from the commotion. Once she was sure she was no longer blushing, she cautiously knelt down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder gently. "Um...you're talking about a computer virus?"

"A worm! It's going to spread across the circus, Pomni! I don't know how it got here, I-I must have let it in, I--"

"Caine! Slow down," Pomni interrupted his rambling, "tell me what happened. Why do you think there's a virus?"

"I don't know what it is, dear," Caine confessed, "but I have experienced these strange sensations. Static, glitching perhaps--behaviors that go against my very coding. But most of all, when I'm with you. It’s why I came to you, first. And you’re so clever, I figured you’d know what to do.”

”Me?” Pomni blinked in surprise. She thought on what he said. "Static and glitches?" she repeated, frowning as her thoughts drifted. What the hell would she know about a computer virus?

Caine nodded. "When you talk to me sometimes, dear, I feel static inside of me. Here," he put a gloved hand on his chest, where his heart would be if he had one. "Did you bring a virus in with you? Is that even possible?"

Butterflies settled in her stomach as his words sank in. There was no way he could possibly be confessing—oh, God. Could he even feel the same way? Pomni looked to the side and fiddled with her buttons nervously. “Um…no. It’s not,” she took a deep breath before kneeling down beside him so she was eye-level, voice sounding unexpectedly even despite her sudden nerves. “Tell me more about this…virus. I’m sure we can figure it out,” she gave him a weak smile in the hopes that it was reassuring. She knew deep down she just wanted to know if he really did feel the same, but she ignored it.

Caine nodded in agreement, still sitting sadly on the floor beside Pomni. He placed a finger where his chin would be in thought. “O-okay, dear. Well, let's see. I checked my memories back last night... For instance, in memories where you’d look at me, my system would begin overheating. Or when you touch me, I freeze up. When you compliment me, well,” he laughed sheepishly, “I blue-screen.”

Pomni blushed furiously, her heart speeding up at his unintentional confessions. “Caine-”

“Oh! And when you look especially striking some days, I feel like the ones and zeros of my code are fluttering around. It’s terrifying—I must be falling apart. And I haven’t even mentioned the glitches that happen when I check my memory—”

The fluttering in Pomni’s heart tingled to the tips of her fingers, making kneeling there unbearable. Her face was heating up with every word he said, heart in her throat. “Caine, I..." Pomni bit her lip, unsure how to explain this to an AI, "this doesn't sound like a virus to me. It sounds almost…human…? I guess?”

Caine tilted his head curiously at her. "Humans glitch from the inside out, too?" he said, and peeked out from behind his fingers.

"N-no, it..." Pomni trailed off, cutting herself short with a sigh, "it sounds like...what humans feel," she settled with that explanation for now. It was really very awkward to try and tell an AI ‘it sounds like you have a crush on me’. Not to mention, words were failing her at the realization that he felt just as fond of her as she was of him. And to think, she had been afraid to embarrass herself around him with her crush—

“What they feel..?” Caine tilted his head at her curiously, “like amazement? Wonder? Excitement?”

“Yes, except…” Pomni hesitated. She wasn’t sure if it was worth it to take the leap and just tell him. “…Caine?”

“Yes?”

Pomni reached for her buttons, fidgeting with them mindlessly. “When you say all of these things…what is it that you want?”

“Want?” Caine repeated.

“Yeah, want. Desire. It’s just…humans usually can tell what it is they feel based on what they want,” she explained, although she knew deep down what she hoped his answer was. The thought alone—the word you—it sent such a thrill through her.

Caine placed a finger on his lower jaw, top jaw arching in an exaggerated eyebrow raise. “Hm, excellent question! Well, when you return from my amazing adventures, I want you to come to me. To speak to me. To find me…admirable.”

Pomni nodded. Caine trying to impress her was nothing new. She was well-aware her stubbornness towards the circus resulted in him paying her extra attention, but it didn’t take a genius to know that by now, that was unnecessary. “Okay. So you want my attention, you want me to see positively. What else?”

Caine placed a finger on his chin, an exaggerated arch in his upper jaw as he thought. “Hmm…well, I’m not sensing any patterns. Except for you. Why do you ask?”

Pomni’s heart skipped a beat. Had he actually said what she had been hoping he’d say? Well, not exactly. It seemed like he wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling in the first place. But who better to teach him than her? She took a deep breath before choosing to brave it. “Caine…I need to explain something to you,” she started.

“Oh, dear, what is it? Are you going to diagnose me with the love bug? With an incurable digital sickness?” Caine pressed his hands together nervously. “Go on. You can tell your favorite ringmaster!”

Pomni took another deep breath to calm her nerves. “Well, the good news is you don’t have a bug. Or a virus. At least, I don’t think so.”

Caine froze in place. “I don’t?”

Pomni shook her head.

“Now, now, don’t be silly, my marionberry muffin! Such frequent glitches aren’t usual for an AI like me,” Caine explained, “how can you be so sure? Are you really a qualified doctor?”

Pomni would probably laugh at his antics if it weren’t for her nerves. “I know because I…I feel the same way,” Pomni admitted, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. It burned a hole right through her.

If Caine had a heart, it would have stuttered in his chest. “You…do?”

Pomni couldn’t form words, so she simply hummed in response. Her face was burning, and she clutched her other arm to curb her trembling hands. “Mhm.”

Caine gaped at her. “You…have the love bug, too?”

“In a way of speaking, yeah.”

“Oh, dear…” he sighed softly, “for who?”

Pomni laughed softly. His obliviousness knew no bounds. She looked at the tiled floor, the butterflies in her stomach unbearable. “W-well, actually, it’s…” she stumbled over her words, blushing to her ears before taking a deep breath and getting enough confidence to meet his eyes. There was no going back now. Her heart sped up, nearly jumping to her throat as she managed the words, “for you."

Caine immediately blue-screened, eyes reading rows of code she couldn’t make out as he processed her words. She flushed at his reaction, slightly self-conscious she misinterpreted his confession. She waved a hand in front of his eyes. “Oh…Caine? Hello…?”

Caine snapped out of it after a few moments. His eyes returned to normal, glancing at Pomni only once before slowly putting a hand over his chest. “Oh, dear. I feel it again,” he said in the quietest voice she’d heard him ever speak in, “the static. Right here. You really—me—?”

Pomni swallowed her nerves, feeling another flutter of butterflies at his response. “I-I know it sounds crazy. I was scared when I realized it. I avoided you. I thought I could run away or deny how I felt, but…the more time I spent with you, the less crazy it seemed,” she explained, meeting his eyes, “I’ve seen all the things you’ve done for me, Caine. For everyone. The adventures, expanding the circus, not teleporting me across the map. And at first it made me enjoy being your friend, but now…”

“Now…?” he prompted.

“Now, you’re telling me you have a crush on me,” Pomni finished, “I didn’t think that was possible, but...”

“A crush?” Caine tilted his head curiously. “Is that what it is?”

Pomni watched him carefully. He was still on the floor, hand on his chest and evidently flustered from her confession. It made her heart speed up, seeing how much he cared. How much he wanted her. “Yeah…the ‘love bug’. What Jax said. It’s not an actual bug. Not for humans at least. I thought he was just being an [#$?!]hole, but what you explained to me…it sounds like what humans feel when they want romantic closeness,” she explained before adding nervously, “a-and, the things you described…it’s how I feel for you.”

“Romantic closeness,” Caine echoed, pausing in thought, “my research for my adventures has taught me about human relationships. About…love.”

A rush of heat ran through Pomni’s chest at the word love. “A-and…?”

Caine, in a rare moment of silence, gazed off towards the end of the hall as he thought back on his research. “And…I believe that is what I want, my dear. With you.” His eyes widened at the realization.

A tingle ran down her spine. “You–you do?” Pomni’s breath caught, cheeks flushing at his words.

“If you’ll teach me,” he confirmed, eyes turning back to meet hers.

Pomni’s pinwheel eyes were blown wide, half in a dream as she nodded. She didn’t know what she wanted in that moment. Or even what to say. Months ago, she would have rather jumped in the cellar than imagine herself in a romantic relationship with him. But these past months had changed things in both of them. In the circus itself. And now, she almost wanted to kiss him. Now…

Her breath caught, when she looked and saw the way he was looking at her. His top jaw arched around his gleaming eyes in the most adoring, lovesick gaze she had ever seen. It made her heart beat harder in her chest, feeling the way his gaze pulled at her heart strings. “Oh, my dear. How could I have not realized sooner? It was so obvious…” he sighed.

She smiled slightly at his cluelessness. It was endearing to her. “A lot of humans feel that way, too. I just never thought…” she trailed off, but he already knew what she was going to say.

Caine’s panic instantly lifted, he sprung up from where he had formerly been curled up. "My dear, I am an advanced AI! I've begun experiencing more 'human' sensations since the day I became sentient. But ever since you, ever since our lessons, well, I think I've become more human than I had ever imagined,” he reached for both of her hands.

Pomni reciprocated his touch. "A-and you're advanced enough to desire closeness?"

Caine tilted his head at her. "I've always known what love is, Pomni. How could I not? You humans talk an awful lot about it. But I never imagined a silly AI like myself being capable of such complex feelings. And yet, I’m advanced enough to know that I've been drawn to you for some time..." A hand moved up to stroke her cheek, right by where her blush resided under her right eye, "and I think I'm beginning to understand why."

"Why?"

"Because you confuse my coding, my little shivering shortbread!” Caine piped up, “Isn't that exciting? I’m more advanced than I’d ever imagined!” His feet lifted from the ground, and he nearly twirled in the air from excitement. He looked down at her again, leaning on his cane with a deep sigh. “Oh, Pomni. Are you sure I’m not love sick?”

For the first time that day, Pomni felt more like herself. She reached for his upper jaw, feeling at him as though he had a fever. “Oh, you definitely are.”

Caine melted into her touch. “I am?” he sighed dreamily.

She nodded with a small smile. “Very sick,” she confirmed, flipping her hand around to cup his features in her palm.

“Very sick,” Caine repeated in a daze, then reached a hand up to meet hers, eyes never leaving hers. Small, cartoonish hearts sprung into existence on the right side of his head as he leaned more into her touch. He noticed them and swatted them away rapidly. “A-ah, ignore that. I can’t help it,” he laughed sheepishly.

Pomni laughed gently. “It’s okay. It’s…endearing,” she blushed, still not accustomed to giving him her thoughts of admiration for him.

“O-oh, dear, you’re too kind…” Caine fiddled with his cane slightly before floating down to her level, planting his feet on the ground once more. “But…if I may, I do still have one question.”

A rush of nerves ran through Pomni. Nonetheless, she kept her cool—which was definitely a feat for her. “Yeah? What is it?”

Caine leaned against his cane once more. “Well, when humans tend to confess their true feelings to another, what do they do next?” he asked.

Pomni blinked, the question catching her off-guard. “O-oh, well…” she looked down the hall in thought, wondering where the others were, “it depends, honestly. But a lot of times, they might decide to, um, date.”

“Ah, of course! Allow me,” Caine cleared his non-existent throat before stretching out a hand to her invitingly, “Pomni, you and I should decide to date.”

If it were somehow possible for Pomni to feel any more ecstatic yet simultaneously terrified, she reached that point. His unconventional phrasing caught her off guard for sure, but it was also mildly endearing. “I…yes,” she accepted his hand tentatively, a small smile spreading across her face, “I’d like that.”

Their touch was immediately broken by Caine flying through the air, zipping around Pomni enthusiastically. “Fantastic! Oh, my dear, I’ve never felt so light as air until now!”

Pomni brought a hand to her mouth, laughing at his excitement.

Caine flew down to meet her once more. “Pomni! You and I should embark on our own adventure,” he wrapped an arm around her, outstretching an arm dramatically to the distance as he added, “a human date!”

Pomni laughed again, raising an eyebrow at him. “Don’t forget you have a whole circus to run, ringmaster,” she teased.

Caine brought a hand to his upper jaw. “Whoopsy-daisy, I almost forgot about the others! My my, you give me a severe case of tunnel vision,” he reached for his cane, preparing to snap himself to the main room before taking one last look at the woman he adored, “I hate to rush the most exciting moment of my never-ending existence, but the show must go on! But, oh, my dear?”

“…Caine?”

Caine tossed his cane between his hands. “How about today, you skip my adventure?”

Pomni blinked in surprise. He never wanted any of his guests to miss his adventures. “Wha—really? Why?”

He flew beside her, holding her hand again. Now that he knew he could hold her hand, he wasn’t sure he’d have it in him to let go for more than a minute. “For our date, of course!” Caine winked at her before continuing sheepishly, “if I may admit, dear…I know what a date is, but I don’t know how to date. There are many things you have to show me.”

A blush rose to Pomni’s cheeks again. “Oh, right,” she stuttered out, then formed a reassuring smile, “i’d love to show you, Caine. Really.” It was just now that she was realizing how intensely her heart had been beating this entire conversation, the trembling seeming to subside now that their true feelings had been revealed.

A couple more hearts fluttered “Of course! What better way to seal our confessions than with a human date? Oh, let’s get this roll call over with, dear. I can’t wait another second!” Caine tightened his grip on her hand.

“You know, you have a lot of energy for someone who’s sick,” Pomni couldn’t help but tease. The more the reality of the situation was settling in, the easier it was for her confidence to return. This artificial man, this AI she had learned to adore, he had truly pined for her all along.

Caine gazed at her adoringly. Oh, my, she was flirting with him, wasn’t she? If she kept going like this, he was going to overheat in front of the others. How lucky was he that this woman adored him as much as he did her? “Why, yes! I’m sick for you.”

“I…don’t think that sounds as romantic as you think it does.”

Caine waved her comment off. “Ah, I’ll perfect the art of flirtation in no time. For now, it’s showtime! And then, a date awaits, my love!”

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