#Echo thought it was cute at first but now he wants to bang his head against the wall

[archivewriter1ont]

Echo: (groggy, handcuffed to a chair) Where am I?

Bountyhunter: None of your business! 

Echo: You… kidnapped me?

Bountyhunter: How else am I supposed to get paid for delivering you?

Echo: So you’re gonna keep me here? By myself? 

Bountyhunter: Well, the payout on the other four wasn’t as good, so, yeah.

Echo: Oh thank the kriffing Force — You have no idea how badly I need a break!

Bountyhunter: Wh–what? I just kidnapped you!

Echo: Yes but Tech was infodumping. He’s been at it since 3 AM. 

Bountyhunter: That's worse than being held for ransom?

Echo: *nods vigorously* Especially when I don’t know half the words he uses. 

Part One of "Echo Gets Kidnapped" | Part Two

[puppym3]

Heyaa! Is it possible to request an enemies to lovers one bed trope smut with bangchan? Like maybe reader and skz go on a trip but there’s not enough rooms so they decide to pair u guys up so that y’all can make up or whatever. Little did u know that Chris has a massive crush on u and was only being insufferable because he thought he didn’t have a chance but little did he know you thought he was cute too. Maybe he pops a boner while sharing the bed and becomes embarrassed but you decide to take matters into ur own hands and dom him for treating u liek shit lol 💀

↠ friction ↺ and ⊜ fire

*+:｡.｡ bangchan x fem!reader

wc: 4.8k

warnings: MDNI! 18+, smut, enemies to lovers, one bed trope, dom!reader, servicetop!bangchan, subby!bangchan, brat!reader, one-sided pining (kind've?), they're both idiots, piv, unprotected sex (sighh), they traumatize the other members, oral (m. rec), creampie, (lmk if i missed any)

a/n: thank you so much for the suggestion anon hehe.. it was so good and i hope i served what needed to be served!! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

*+:｡.｡

Stepping out of the van after a long, winding drive, you stretched your arms above your head, relishing the cool mountain air. The cabin loomed ahead, a cozy refuge nestled in the heart of the forest, promising a weekend of relaxation and fun. You were close friends with the boys and these trips were a regular occurrence. However, there was one member you couldn't stand.

Bang Chan.

Ever since you first met, the two of you had bickered incessantly over the most trivial things. Whether it was your taste in men or the way you folded your clothes, Bang Chan always found something to nag you about. You rolled your eyes just thinking about it. How could someone be so insufferable?

It reminds you of the time you had just broken up with your ex-boyfriend after you found out he had been cheating on you the entire time, you had unknowingly been the side piece throughout your relationship. Bang Chan warned you about him the entire time, saying he wasn't good for you. And now that things had crumbled, he was in your ear about how right he was. It frustrated you.

"Hurry up! We need to check out the rooms!" Felix excitedly called out, breaking your reverie.

You grabbed your bag and followed the boys into the cabin. As they scattered to explore, you took in the rustic charm of the place. It was perfect, except for one glaring issue: you only spotted eight bedrooms.

"Hey," Minho announced, holding up a hand-drawn map of the cabin. "There are only eight beds."

"Great," you muttered under your breath.

The boys gathered around, frowning at the realization.

"Well, who wants to share?" Seungmin said, glancing around.

"I don't mind sharing," Jisung shrugged.

Everyone seemed to share a knowing glance across the room.

"How about Y/N and Chan share a room?" Minho suggested with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You and Chan simultaneously snapped your heads toward Minho, protests ready on your lips, but the rest of the boys quickly agreed.

"Yeah, maybe you two will finally stop bickering," Jisung added, smirking.

"Fine," Chan sighed, his eyes meeting yours with a challenge.

"Fine," you echoed, refusing to back down.

"Awesome," Jeongin laughed nervously, trying to defuse the tension in the room. "We can check out the rest of the cabin tomorrow, so why don't we call it a night?"

"Yeah, I'm exhausted," Changbin agreed, calling out from his room, already laid out on his bed like a starfish.

You followed Chan to your room and set down your bags. The bedroom was spacious, but the lack of a second bed left a bitter taste in your mouth.

"Guess you're sleeping on the floor," you smirked, taking note of the single queen-sized mattress.

Chan raised an eyebrow and looked you up and down.

"Like hell, I am. You can sleep on the floor," he argued, his eyes glinting with amusement.

You let out a scoff, but before you could open your mouth, Felix appeared in the doorway.

"You're both responsible adults, you can share a bed."

You shot Felix a glare.

"Goodnight!" He quickly ducked out of the room, leaving you and Chan alone.

Chan crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face.

"Don't get any ideas, pervert," you sneered, brushing past him to get ready for bed.

"Wouldn't dream of it, darling."

The rest of the evening passed in tense silence. The two of you were cordial when brushing your teeth and washing your faces, but once you were settled under the covers, you turned away from each other, as far as you could go without falling off the bed.

Lying there, staring at the wall, you couldn't help but feel the tension in the room. It was more than just annoyance; it was a palpable electricity that seemed to spark every time you argued. You hated to admit it, but there was something about Chan that intrigued you, something that made your heart race in the most frustrating way.

And you were overly aware of how attractive he was, secretly ogling him when he would perform on stage. It annoyed you, a lot.

You shifted in the bed, trying to get comfortable. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body and it was driving you crazy. The more you tried to ignore him, the more aware you became of his presence.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. You rolled over, determined to confront him, but the words died in your throat. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, and his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

He looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, that you couldn't bring yourself to wake him. Instead, you watched him, admiring the way the moonlight illuminated his features.

You traced the line of his jaw with your eyes, trailing down to his full lips. Your heart skipped a beat as you imagined what it would be like to kiss him.

You quickly shook your head, berating yourself for even thinking such a thing. Chan was the last person you would ever want to kiss.

But the more you denied it, the more you thought about it. What if his lips were soft? What if he kissed you gently, his hands caressing your body?

The thought made your cheeks flush.

"Can you stop eye-fucking me? I'm trying to sleep."

Chan's voice snapped you out of it, and you quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks burning.

"I wasn't- I just, wanted to say something," you stammered, the defensiveness in your voice showing.

The fact that he was so cocky and attractive drove you crazy, you wanted to put him in his place then and there, you wanted to pick another fight with him, the fights you had him ignited a certain fire in you that you couldn't explain.

"What is it?"

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. What was wrong with you? You couldn't even form a coherent sentence around him.

"Just..." you scoffed, giving up when the words in your head scrambled.

"Goodnight."

With that, Chan rolled over, putting his back to you.

You huffed, annoyed at the way he dismissed you. You knew he was trying to get under your skin, and it was working. You glared at the back of his head, wishing you could slap the smug look off his face.

But even as you silently fumed, you laid in bed next to him. Unable to relax, you tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. But the bed seemed to grow smaller with each passing moment, and the space between you felt like an infinite chasm.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body, his mere presence setting your nerves alight. You were overly aware of his breathing, his steady inhale and exhale. And the longer you lay there, the more restless you became.

"Will you stop moving?"

His voice was barely above a whisper, but the sound made you jump.

"I can't sleep," you replied, keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling.

"Try harder."

You scoffed again, turning your head to look at him, and before you could come up with something to spit back at him, your gaze lowered, and your eyes landed on the very prominent tent on the bed.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly averted your gaze, but the image was burned into your mind.

Your cheeks flushed, and your heart began to race. Chan was hard. The realization sent a jolt of excitement through your body.

Now this was an argument you could easily win, you could definitely embarrass him with this.

So why couldn't you say anything? Why was the heat in between your thighs growing undeniably unbearable?

You couldn't stop yourself from stealing another glance. Your eyes trailed down the length of his body, coming to rest on the bulge straining against his pants.

Chris turned over to face away from you. You couldn't help but smile. You knew he was embarrassed, and the thought of him being uncomfortable made you feel satisfied.

Without hesitation, you moved closer, pressing your body against his. Your chest was pressed against his back.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice wavering.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice in an innocent tone as if you had no idea what he was talking about.

"Don't act stupid."

You couldn't help but smirk. You could hear the embarrassment in his voice, and it only made you more confident.

"You know exactly what I'm doing," you said, your voice dropping to a whisper.

"This isn't funny."

You couldn't believe how much this was affecting him.

"You're telling me," you purred, sliding your hand down his torso.

Your fingertips brushed over the hard outline of his cock, and you felt his breath catch.

You couldn't resist, he was a brat, and now it was time for payback. You wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric of his pants.

He sucked in a sharp breath, and his hips jerked involuntarily. You bit your lip, trying to contain your own excitement.

"You're a fucking tease."

"Says the one with a boner," you retorted.

"I'm serious," he breathed.

"So am I," you said, tightening your grip.

The sound that escaped his lips made you shudder.

You knew that if you didn't stop now, there would be no turning back.

But you didn't care. You wanted this.

You grabbed his shoulder, pulling so he was lying on his back. His eyes were wide, his breath ragged.

Without a word, you straddled his lap, the thin fabric of your pajama shorts doing little to hide the heat between your thighs.

"You're a brat, you know that?" he groaned.

You smiled, your confidence growing by the second.

"Maybe, but I think you like it."

You rolled your hips, and his cock twitched beneath you.

"Fuck," he cursed. You couldn't help but smirk. He was clearly losing his composure.

"Don't get too cocky," he said, grabbing your hips and grinding up into you.

Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how turned on you were.

"That's funny, coming from you," you managed to say, rocking your hips against him.

He was rock hard beneath you, and the friction was sending waves of pleasure through your body.

The outline of his cock through his pants was aligned perfectly with your cunt, gently brushing against your clit through each movement.

It was agonizing.

You leaned forward, your lips grazing his ear.

"Is this what you want? Then beg me."

You could feel his resolve breaking, and the satisfaction was almost overwhelming.

"Please," he choked out, the shyness poking through his cocky demeanor felt rewarding.

"I'm not sure I heard you."

You rocked your hips again, the friction making your head spin.

"Fuck, please" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You could tell he was embarrassed, but you didn't care. This was too good to stop now.

"You're a pervert," you whispered, tugging at the waistband of his pants. "Getting hard from sharing a bed with a girl?"

He couldn't meet your eyes, his face flushed red.

"It... it's not like that..." he murmured, but the tent in his pants told a different story.

You slipped your hand inside his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his length.

He gasped, his eyes widening.

"You-" he breathed.

"Tell me what it's like then," you teased, stroking him slowly.

His jaw was clenched, and he looked like he was struggling to form words.

"I'm waiting."

"It's because- fuck, it's because of you."

His response caught you off guard, and your heart skipped a beat.

"What?"

You couldn't hide the surprise in your voice, and the way it caused you to clench around nothing.

"It's you," he breathed, his gaze finally meeting yours.

You could see the desire in his eyes, and it took your breath away.

"But don't we hate each other?" you protested, unable to hide the hint of confusion in your voice, feeling like maybe you lost the plot somewhere along the way.

"I don't hate you," he admitted. "I just- I thought I did. But it was only because I couldn't handle the fact that I liked you so much."

You couldn't believe your ears. Chris liked you? It made your heart flutter, a million fantasies running through your head in a second. Why did this excite me so much? Why did I like hearing those words coming out of his mouth?

"You like me?" you echoed, unable to hide the disbelief in your voice.

"God, you're dense," he groaned, his frustration evident.

Before you could respond, he sat up and pulled you in, his lips were on yours, and his hands were gripping your hips.

You melted into the kiss, the taste of his lips and the warmth of his skin setting your nerves on fire.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, and you moaned, the sound muffled by his mouth.

His kiss was fervent, lips melding with yours in a way that made your mind go blank. Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as he pulled you closer, pressing you against him.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his heart pounding in time with yours. The kiss deepened, tongues dancing in a rhythm that felt both urgent and unrelenting. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of mint toothpaste and something uniquely Chris.

His hands roamed over your body, caressing your back before settling on your hips, guiding your movements as you rocked against him. Each touch sent sparks shooting through your veins, and the friction between your bodies was driving you wild.

You couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All you could focus on was the feel of his lips, the warmth of his skin, the sound of his breath, heavy and labored.

When you pulled back, you pushed him back to lay on the bed.

"You really are a brat, huh?" he panted, his eyes dark with desire.

"You have no idea," you smirked, tugging his boxers down his hips.

His cock sprung free, and the sight of him made your mouth water. He was big, bigger than you expected, and the thought of him inside you made your stomach twist in anticipation.

You wrapped your hand around him, stroking him slowly.

He let out little breaths, his head falling back. You could tell he was struggling to hold himself together, and the sight made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

This feeling wasn't unfamiliar, you felt this way sometimes when you watched him on stage, his expressions, his confidence, everything about him. It was why you pretended to hate him. You were attracted to him, and the thought terrified you.

But right now, in this moment, there was no room for fear. All you could focus on was the feel of him in your hand, the taste of him on your lips, the heat of his skin.

You moved down the bed, kneeling between his legs. You couldn't take your eyes off him.

"Fucking hell," he cursed, his hand tangling in your hair.

"I'll be gentle," you teased, wrapping your lips around his tip.

The sounds that came from him was unlike anything you had ever heard, and it only fueled your desire.

You swirled your tongue around his length, savoring the taste of him. He was intoxicating, and you couldn't get enough.

You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks and sucking gently. Your hands searched his body as you tasted him, feeling every inch of his chest and every detail on his body.

He was shaking, and you could tell he was holding back. And you had no intention of stopping, not until you had your fill of him.

"F-fuck," he breathed, his hand tightening in your hair. The feeling of him tugging on my hair sent shivers down my spine.

You hummed in response, the vibrations making him gasp.

You worked him slowly, teasing him with your tongue and lips. He tasted amazing, and the sound of his breathless moans was music to your ears.

You could feel the tension building in his body, his thighs twitching as he fought the urge to thrust into your mouth.

The power was intoxicating, but it wasn't enough, you wanted more.

You released him with a pop, his length coated in your saliva.

"Don't move, I'm going to ride you."

"What?"

You could see the shock on his face, and it only made you smile.

"I'm going to ride you," you repeated, climbing back onto his lap.

"But- wait- are you sure?"

His expression was comical, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Chris, do I need to spell it out for you?"

He shook his head, his eyes wide.

"Good, because I don't have the patience for it."

With that, you pushed your panties to the side, letting your legs spread wide so he could get a perfect view as you prepared yourself for him.

His breath caught in his throat, and you could feel his eyes on you, watching you as you slipped a finger inside yourself.

You couldn't believe how wet you were, your arousal coating your fingers as you stretched yourself open. You could feel him twitch beneath you, his length throbbing with need.

You added another finger, moaning as you worked yourself open. He was still watching, his gaze locked on the movement of your fingers as you fucked yourself on them.

"Fuck," he cursed, his hands gripping your hips as he tried to keep himself from thrusting up into you.

"Impatient, are we?"

He shot you a look, and you could see the desperation in his eyes.

"Fuck you," he said, though his words lacked any bite.

"I thought that was the plan," you teased, withdrawing your fingers and wiping them on his thigh.

"God, just- please," he breathed, his resolve crumbling.

"Since you asked so nicely."

You positioned yourself over him, his tip brushing against your entrance. You were already so wet, so ready for him.

"Are you sure, with no protection?"

"If you ask me one more time, I'll leave you here to take care of this yourself," you threatened.

You were on the pill, and you were too needy now to look back, the thought of feeling his raw cock stretching you out also made you super impatient.

You inserted the tip, the feel of him filling you up was overwhelming. He was big, bigger than anyone you've ever been with, and the stretch was almost too much.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice strained.

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you adjusted to his size.

"Fuck," you breathed, sinking down until he was buried to the hilt.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening.

"And you're fucking huge," you replied, the pressure and heat building within you.

He couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I've never had complaints."

"Shut up," you smiled, pulling him in for a kiss.

Your tongues met, dancing together in a messy tangle. He kissed you like he was starving, and you could feel his hunger for you.

You began to move, slowly at first, rocking your hips against him. His breath hitched, and his hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air.

"God, that's it," he groaned, his head falling back. His hands pushing at your inner thighs to spread your legs further.

His eyes intently staring at your body made you shiver, you grabbed at the hem of your shirt before pulling it off, giving him a better view to take in.

He groaned, his gaze roaming over your body. "So fucking beautiful," he murmured, his hand trailing up your thigh.

"I could say the same for you," you replied, tracing the lines of his abs with your fingertips.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, and the attention was overwhelming. You increased the pace, rolling your hips as you rode him. He was buried deep inside you, the sensation of him filling you up was incredible.

"God, yes," he breathed, his fingers digging into your skin.

You moaned, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it. He was hitting all the right spots, and the pleasure was building, coiling in the pit of your stomach.

"Don't stop," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't bring yourself to form words, the sensation was too much, your head was spinning.

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss, the taste of him only adding to the pleasure.

His tongue darted out, tracing your bottom lip.

"Fuck, Chris," you breathed, breaking the kiss.

He was breathing heavily, his gaze locked on yours. "Use me to come," he urged, his hands on your hips encouraging you.

"Chan," you moaned, his name on your lips like a prayer. You could feel him throbbing inside you, and the sensation was incredible.

"Come for me," he groaned, his fingers digging into your skin.

And then, the pleasure washed over you, the waves crashing into you with such intensity that you saw stars. You felt yourself tremble as you clenched over him, falling on his chest as you cried out, whimpering as you lightly grinded your high out.

He broke when he felt you cum on him, the soft breaths coming out of his mouth, and you could feel him twitch inside you, his cock throbbing as he came, his cum filling you up.

The feeling was unlike anything you've experienced, and you could feel the pleasure coursing through your veins.

When he finally stilled, the two of you were a panting, sweaty mess. You could feel the aftershocks of your orgasm rippling through your body, and the sensation was incredible.

"Fuck," he breathed, his fingers digging into your skin.

"That's exactly what we did," you teased, your breathing slowly returning to normal.

He couldn't help but laugh, burying his face in your shoulder. "You're insufferable," he murmured, his breath tickling your neck.

"Oh, and you're not?"

"I guess we're perfect for each other then."

He raised his head, his eyes meeting yours. The sincerity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but press a light kiss to his lips.

"Maybe," you conceded, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

"I'd like that," he smiled, the dimple in his cheek deepening.

Your heart swelled, and you leaned in for another kiss, a little longer than the last.

"So... I'm guessing this means you like me too?"

His question caught you off guard, and the thought made your heart flutter.

"You could say that," you replied, unable to hide the hint of hesitation in your voice.

He frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "That's not an answer," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance.

You bit your lip, the uncertainty rising within you. You couldn't help but worry that this was a mistake, that it was all a joke.

"Hey," he said, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. "Talk to me."

"It's just... are you sure? I feel like you're fucking with me again, this is just too good to be true," you said, completely honest and a little too vulnerable in front of him.

"Oh my god," he sighed, his frustration evident. "How much proof do you need? If it wasn't obvious, I don't usually let people ride me."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it.

"Fair enough," you conceded, leaning in to steal a kiss.

He hummed, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"I think I'm going to enjoy proving myself," he murmured, his fingers running along the curve of your ass.

"Is that so?"

He nodded, the glint in his eye making your heart skip a beat.

"I promise you'll be begging for it next time."

"That's a bold claim," you challenged, unable to hide the amusement in your voice.

"One that I'll gladly prove," he said, his tone playful.

"We'll see about that," you teased, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Don't challenge me unless you're prepared for the consequences."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the idea of him having his way with you was intoxicating.

You giggled, stealing a quick kiss before climbing off his lap.

You couldn't help but laugh looking at him, "God, you're so cute," you teased, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before padding over to the bathroom.

You woke up early, the sunlight streaming through the window and the sound of birds chirping outside.

You groaned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and sitting up.

The events of last night rushed back, and you couldn't help but smile, the memory of his touch, the taste of his lips, and the sting you felt on your legs from the workout.

As you looked around, however, you were met with an empty bed, the sheets beside you cold.

A wave of panic washed over you, the realization that he wasn't here was jarring. You couldn't help but think that it had all been a dream, the thought of us doing anything already seemed unreal to you.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the door opening, and the sight of him made your heart skip a beat.

"Morning," he greeted, a wide smile on his face.

You felt way too giddy seeing his face, seeing him just made you want to plant kisses all over his face.

"Morning," you replied, the warmth spreading across your cheeks.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed.

You couldn't help but stare at him, the sight of him in a plain t-shirt and shorts, his hair tousled and his skin glistening from his morning shower.

"Well, you didn't snore." you teased.

He rolled his eyes, the gesture making you giggle.

"I'm glad my princess could sleep without any disturbances, then."

The words made your heart skip a beat, and you were left speechless. You couldn't believe how quickly he had gotten under your skin.

You couldn't deny the effect he had on you, the way your heart raced when he was close, the way your body craved his touch.

You bit your lip, trying to push down the feelings that threatened to overwhelm you.

"You okay?" he asked, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"Yeah, just... I was worried, that's all," you confessed, unable to meet his gaze.

He frowned, clearly not understanding. "Worried? Why?"

"I thought... I thought it was all a dream, that I was just imagining it."

He couldn't help but laugh, the sound filling the room.

"You're too adorable," he smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"I really do like you," you countered, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them.

His expression softened, the laughter dying on his lips.

"I really do like you, too"

You couldn't help but melt, the words echoing in your head.

You leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you.

Suddenly you heard loud pounding knocks at your door.

The door opened and Minho with a tired face walked in, Seungmin shyly trailing behind him.

"I'm glad you guys... 'made up', but for fucks sake," Minho complained.

"Couldn't you have saved that?" Seungmin joined in, equally mortified.

You couldn't help but blush, the thought of your friends hearing the two of you was embarrassing.

Chris, trying to keep a straight face, couldn't help but giggle a little.

"Okay, okay, we're sorry," you apologized, holding your hands up in surrender.

"Sorry," Jisung says, barging into the conversation, "I'm just so happy for you, I've had to endure this guy whining about you for the past 2 months."

"Shut up," Chan blushed, his cheeks tinted red.

"Oh my god, is that why you were such an ass? You were pining?" you teased, pinching his cheek.

"Don't," he whined, pulling away from your grasp.

"Well, Jeongin left last night, he fled to a hotel room." Minho chimed in. "I should've just done the same."

"Why didn't you?" Jisung asked, clearly amused.

"I don't know, I was hoping the walls would be thick enough."

"Lee know, oh my god," you blushed, hiding your face in Chan's shoulder.

"You were loud, we could hear you from our room, which is right next to yours. We can also hear everything," Minho complains.

"Okay, okay," Chan concedes.

"So are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?" Felix pipes up.

"What elephant?" Changbin asks, who clearly hasn't caught on.

"These two fucked," he says, just now coming into the conversation.

"Okay, that's enough, I'm leaving." You say, your face red with embarrassment.

"I'll come with," Chris agrees, and you both get up and leave the room.

"Oh my god, can they just hate each other again?" Seungmin complains.

"For the love of god, yes," Minho agrees.

*+:｡.｡

[tokeposts]

⁀➷ UNSAID | K. BAKUGOU

pairing. bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

genre. collage au, aged up au, angst w/ a happy ending

warnings. cussing, longing, jealousy, aggression

1.3K | jealousy is a disease and bakugou katsuki is riddled with it.

back | masterlist | next

When you reached his place, you knocked, only for the door to swing open almost immediately, revealing a tense Bakugou standing there, looking more agitated than usual.

"Let's make this quick," you stated, stepping inside cautiously.

He didn’t answer right away, shutting the door behind you with more force than necessary. The loud bang echoed in the entryway. You watched him carefully, noting the tension in his jaw, the way his hands clenched at his sides.

"You and that extra done?"

You raised an eyebrow, surprised that he was bringing it up so bluntly. "We were never really dating, but yeah, I guess we are." You shrugged. "Why?"

His red eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles in his forearms taut like he was holding something back. "Never really dating?" he echoed, voice dripping with disbelief. "You were all over that guy, calling him cute, acting like he was something special."

You furrowed your brows, confused. Bakugou was so quick in acting like he didn't care. He practically abandoned you and this was the first thing he wanted to bring up? Un-fucking-believable.

"Not to be that girl, but why do you care?" you sighed, the faint ache in the back of your head fueling your words. "You ignore me for weeks, act all weird, and then suddenly you want to talk?"

Bakugou’s jaw tightened at your anger, and you saw a flicker of something dangerous cross his face. His arms dropped to his sides, fingers twitching like he wanted to do something but ultimetly decided against it. Instead, he stepped closer. His mouth pressed into a deep scowl, his presence looming over you like a storm waiting to break.

"I’m being weird?" he snapped, voice low and sharp, both warning and desperate. "You think I haven’t noticed you acting like everything’s fine when you’re hanging around that fucking loser?" His red eyes bored into yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart shake in its cage.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I can hang out with whoever I want, Katsuki. Let me say again that you haven't spoken to me in two weeks—"

"It pisses me off!" he shouted, stepping even closer, his breath fanning against your face. He caged you between his body and the wall. He was so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body, his scent familiar and overwhelming.

His eyes were blazing, fury barely contained, and something more swirling behind them. "Seeing you with some guy, calling him cute and shit. Hanging off his every. Fucking. Word."

Your eyes widened, and for the first time, you didn’t know what to say. The room felt like it was closing in, the air thick with tension. Bakugou’s words hung in the space between you, raw and unfiltered, like he had finally let something slip out.

"You think I don’t care?" he scoffed, his voice dropping lower, rougher. "That I haven’t been paying attention? You just don’t get it."

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your throat tight as his words sank in, but you were just as angry as you were confused. If this man thought he could barge back into your life without so much as a clear explanation, he was dead wrong.

"Use your words," you said quietly, not backing down even though your voice wavered slightly. "Because all I saw was you ignoring me and then getting mad when I tried to fix it."

His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite read— regret, frustration, maybe even fear— but it was gone as quickly as it came.

"I haven’t been ignoring you," he muttered, his voice strained now. "I’ve been trying to... I don’t know, hold back?"

"What— Hold back?" you shot, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Katsuki, if you don’t stop being so vague, I’m—"

Before you could finish, his hands shot out, seizing your waist with a force that sent a jolt through your body. In an instant, Bakugou’s lips were on yours— hard, urgent, like he’d been holding this in for far too long.

You gasped, startled by the intensity, but your body responded instinctively, your hands clutching at his shirt, desperately seeking some anchor in the storm of his affection. His kiss was rough, almost punishing. His mouth unyielding against yours, as though he was pouring all of his pent-up frustration and unspoken words into this one moment. He moved with a hunger that set your skin on fire, like if he stopped, you’d slip away.

He groaned low in his throat, tilting your head back and demanding more access, deepening the kiss with a ferocity that left you breathless. His grip tightened around your waist, fingers digging into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer.

Bakugou kissed you like a man starved, his desperation palpable in the way his lips moved against yours. It felt like he was trying to memorize the taste of you, the way you fit against him. There was no hesitation, no restraint— just pure, burning need.

When he finally tore his mouth away, both of you were gasping for air, your chest heaving as you tried to steady your pounding heart. He looked away, suddenly shy, a complete 180 from the man who had just made your knees weak seconds ago. It was a sight you thought you’d cherish forever.

His hot breath fanned over your face, shaking and uneven, but he didn’t let go. His fingers were still digging into your hips like he couldn’t bear to lose contact, like he needed to make sure you were still there.

“I care,” he muttered, voice thick with emotion, low and guttural like he was admitting something he could barely stand to say aloud. His fingers trailed along your hip, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"I care too fucking much, and it pisses me off that I can’t stop thinking about it. So yeah, I’ve been distant, and yeah, I’ve been avoiding you, but that’s because I don’t know what the hell to do with this." His voice cracked slightly, the tension in his words making your heart race even faster. He didn’t have the nerve to look up at you yet, not when you hadn’t said a single thing, and it was killing him.

"So fucking sue me for trying to figure this shit out."

You swallowed hard, your mind racing to keep up with everything he was saying. His confession was raw, vulnerable in a way you had never seen from him before. He wasn’t just angry— he was scared. Scared of what he felt, scared of losing control, scared of what you meant to him.

"Katsuki..." you started, your voice soft, but he cut you off with a gruttal sigh. He looked up, red eyes boring into your own for the first time, and they were pleading, desperate.

"Don’t say anything," he muttered. "If you’re gonna say some pity shit, don’t wanna hear it."

You stared at him for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, and then, without thinking, you closed the distance between you again, your lips meeting his in another heated kiss. This time, it was slower, deeper, but still filled with that same urgency, that same need. His hands slid from your waist to your back, pulling you even closer, and you could feel the tension in his body melt away.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads still pressed together. Bakugou’s grip on you loosened, but he didn’t let go entirely, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that made your chest flutter.

"Next time," he muttered, his voice low and gruff, "don’t go running around with some fucking guy."

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, even though your heart was still racing. "Next time, don’t wait so long to tell me you care."

His eyes flickered with something soft for just a moment, but then he huffed, looking away with a scowl. "Shut up."

[tinybeetiny]

Very Bold: K.Y

SMUT | 18+ | MDNI

I think this might be the longest one… idk I just couldn’t stop for him. I also wanted to show him a way you wouldn't think but honestly something he could be hiding

->Starring: Rockstar!YeosangXafab!Reader

->Genre: Smut, some angst

->Cw: Explicit language, public... flashing?, spanking, unprotected sex, dom Yeosang eeeee, praise, degradation

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist | Rock Never Dies Masterlist

“Uh shit babe I’m gonna be late” Yeosang’s breaths came out as pants as you continued to rub yourself on him “Almost there” you squeaked out feeling the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach. Yeosang had to be on stage in 5 minutes but you needed him so bad and like the sweet doting boyfriend he is he took you to his dressing room to let you hump him like a dog in heat. With each drag of your hips you’re thrown closer and closer to the edge until a loud banging interrupts you “Come on Yeosang. We need to be one stage NOW” Hongjoong’s voice held some irritation. Yeosang sighs as he moves you off of him, gently sliding you onto the couch below you “Sorry love. We gotta finish this later” he sighs, eyes apologetic “But I was so close” you whine. He gives you a quick kiss before rushing out of the room.

You stand on the side of the stage watching the boys perform, your panties uncomfortably sticky. His gaze falls over to you and you look around seeing everyone preoccupied. Your eyes return to his and he sees a mischievous glint in them. He raises an eyebrow trying to figure out what you're planning. Your fingers hook into the waistband of your lacy thong pulling them down and letting them drop to the floor. It takes all of his self-control not to say fuck it and just leave with you. He watches you reach down, picking up the skimpy fabric and accidentally tossing it behind you. You give him an 'oops' face and promptly turn around, bending over giving him a clear view pussy. His concetration waivers and Yunho looks over at him.

The rest of the concert seems to drag on for Yeosang. When the show finally ended he was the first one off the stage. He beelined his way to you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you to his dressing room. The praise from the staff is just an echo as he breezes by them. He practically throws you into the room (politely because he's bby girl) and he slams the door shut "You think that little shit was cute huh?" His breath fans against your face. Oh he's angry angry and it's embarrassing to say but it turns you on. The little vein in his forehead protruding and the way he's pinning you against the door has your arousal dripping down your thigh "I have no idea what you're talking about." you say innocently giving him wide eyes "So you want to be like that?" He takes a step back "Go bend over the arm of the sofa" His tone scarily serious. Yeosang may be in a rock band but he's as soft as a puppy so seeing him like this just made you feel things.

You skip your way over to the sofa, bending over looking back at him, and wiggling your hips antagonizing him "Look at you” he tsks, his hand coming down to rub your exposed ass “Do you like being a little attention whore hm?” He sneers bending over you, his voice close to your ear. Your backside is pressed flush to his front and you can feel his hard on through his tight pants as it rubs against your exposed cunt. You shake your head “No? No what? You don’t like it?” You shake your head again “M’not an attention whore” you pout “Oh really? So you didn’t just bend over showing your whole bare ass pussy for everyone to see?” You whine at his words “Why do you have to say it like that” You grumble "Maybe because that's exactly what happened and look. It seems like you enjoyed every minute of it." He takes a small step back, fingers gliding through your wet folds gathering your slick "You're so wet. What...? Did the thought of someone seeing you exposed turn you on that much?" you hear him unzip his pants, and the metal from his belt hits the floor as he slides them down his legs "No" you say quietly, the humiliation very present "Oh really? The mess you're making on my fingers says otherwise" When he pulls his fingers away strings of arousal stretch making his cock jump.

He grabs the base of his cock and rubs his tip through your folds "Need to fill you up" He mumbles pushing his tip into your sopping hole. You let out a gasp when he pushes further into you. His hand comes to spread your ass cheeks, loving the way he's stretching you out "So tight for me". He lets out a sigh of relief when he finally bottoms out. He stays stagnit knowing if he moved right now he would cum instantly. Your walls are tight around him almost as if they were molding to him, just for him. He watches as you wrtith around trying to coax some sort of stimulation out of him but it doesn't worlk. Instead, he simple admires your figure, enamored by every curve. His fingers caress your skin as they slide up your back and he pushes ever so slightly causing your arch just how he likes. When he finally moves his hips they're slow, feeling every drag as your tight walls suck him in further and further.

He gives you a couple more slow thruts before stilling again. You mouth opens to protest but before you can utter a word his hand comes down with a harsh smack, the sound vibrating off the walls. Your pitiful whine fills his ears and he marvels at the pretty red handprint on your skin. His hand comes down on the other cheek giving it a matching mark. Little cries escape you and he wants more. He lands another smack and yet another whine leaves your lips. He continues his assault until your skin is hot and a beautiful shade of red. His hand grip your hips as he pounds into you, fucking you into the couch.

"That's it baby take it like the whore you are" his head falls back as he feels you constricting around him "Fuck Sangie that feels so good" "Yeah? You wanna cum?" "Yes yes please I wanna cum" "Then say it, tell me you're a fucking whore." You shake your head no against the cushion "Oh... okay then" He pulls out completely leaving you feeling empty. Your head spins around to look at him with tears in your eyes, your hips pushing back trying to find him again. "Ah ah. Say it." "Imawhore" You whisper out in a rush "I can't hear you" "I'm a whore, I'm a dirty whore for you Sangie I- fuuckk" You cry out when he slams back into you. His hips move at an unforgiving pace "Fuck baby cum, cum for me" It didn't take long for you to start spasming around him “That’s it. Such a good girl” he praises. He pushes you further into the leather material. Your body lays limply feeling worn out but as he continues to pound into you the feeling of overstimulation begins to set in

"Ah shit baby. M'gonna cum, gotta pull out" His voice comes out strained as he feels the tension building, begging to be released “No please cum in me Sangie please” he lets a little humorless laugh “You really think you deserve it?” You give him a little nod “I don’t think so. What exactly have you done to deserve it huh?” He smirks when you don’t say anything. He pulls out and pumps his cock "No no no I'm sorry. Please please please" any other time he would give you what you wanted especially when you beg so nicely but not this time. He's pretty sure Hongjoong saw, maybe even San and the thought of them potentially seeing you so exposed had him shooting hot ropes of cum all over your ass. He lets out a string of breathy moans, hips stuttering as he milks himself dry over you. He grabs a few tissues and carefully cleans you up. Your limbs whine as he gently pulled you up. Your eyes lazily look up at him "So... Did you like the view?"

Taglist: @e3ellie @yoonshiiu @yunlazia @jonghoslilstar @sugakooie

@lemonkait00 @ginevrsstuff @atztrsr @honsans-atiny-24 @zaynsfl4m3s

@life-is-a-game-of-thrones @atzlordz

If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form

[soobnny]

shall we dance? — bang chan. strangers to lovers. fluff. chan gives you his shoes when your feet hurt. conversation inspired by a scene in little women. (0.9k words)

Bright lights pollute your vision, and it’s getting hard to hear anything over the music echoing around the room. 

Nobody told you how hard it’d be to look for quiet, even just a thin line, amidst one of the nights teenage girls will be writing about in their diaries when they get home. Quaint gestures of friendliness are starting to feel a little forced. Friends of a friend mingle around, clad in the prettiest dresses they spent months looking for. 

You’re not quite sure if you’re enjoying the night or if your thoughts are just a little clouded because no one has asked you to dance. All you know is that your brand new heels are burning holes on the soles of your feet and you don’t think you can handle another look of pity from your friend. 

Maybe it’d be best to mask yourself amongst the massive curtains decorating the corners of whomever’s house this is. You’re sure you saw a room there when you’d first walked into the house. So, with your gaze straight ahead at what’s meant to be the dance floor, you start backing up–step by step, careful not to startle anyone’s periphery. The sight of you sneaking away might be the laughing stock of the town. 

“Hi.”

The sudden voice startles you. You don’t expect anyone else to be in there, especially when the night is reaching its high. 

“Hi. Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here.” You smile sheepishly. Though, you suppose being caught by one is better than the burning gaze of a hundred. 

He has a cute moon smile, eyes morphed like crescents, and he isn’t unattractive either. He’s opposite the spectrum–almost breathtaking–clad in a white dress shirt with a few unbuttoned at the top. You’re sure it costs more than everything you’re wearing tonight. His hair is wavy, but effortless in a way you know that he’d spent maybe a minute to get it to look that way. How is someone like him hiding away from the crowd? If he were to step out, you’re sure that hundreds of girls would line up even just to look at him. 

“It’s alright. Don’t mind me.” He’s still smiling, though a little more effortless now. “Stay, if you’d like. It’s a little overwhelming out there, no?” 

“I won’t disturb you?” 

He shakes his head cutely, hair bouncing a little as he does. 

“You’re Miss (Last Name), right?” 

You’re surprised he knows your name, maybe a little tempted to ask how. But with the way he’s dressed, and how he’s comfortably lounged in the room, it would be safe to assume he’s the son of whoever owns this house. He must be acquainted with at least a few of the guests his father invited. 

You return his smile. He’s looking directly at you, patiently waiting for your confirmation.

“Ah, yes. But I’m not Miss (Last Name), I’m only (name). Last names bring heavy expectations, and tonight, I just want to be (name).” 

His smile grows.

“Well then, I’m only Chan.”

The air feels easy, a few giggles escaping both your lips after you’d both introduced yourselves. The unpleasant awkwardness of just meeting someone is almost non-existent. 

“Don’t you want to go out there and dance?” You fiddle with your fingers, shifting your feet a little before returning your gaze back on the boy. 

“Would you like to dance with me?” 

Heat crawls up on your cheeks. You don’t know why you feel embarrassed. Maybe it’s because minutes ago you’d been sulking over not being asked to dance. And while you’d love to, your brand new heels are killing you—you think scars are forming from the way the skin of your feet that’s in contact with your shoes feel like they’re burning. 

“I can’t, I’m sorry.” You shoot him an apologetic look.

“Why not?”

“My feet are burning. I don’t even think I can walk.” You laugh, sitting down and taking off a heel to show him your ankles. Just as you’d suspected, it’s painted bright red. Just a bit more friction and you’re sure it’s going to start bleeding. “But I really, really would’ve wanted to dance with you.”

Chan crouches down to inspect your ankles, a respectful hand on your foot to assess if there was any scarring. Then, he starts taking off his own shoes. You don’t even get to ask him what he’s doing, not when he’s pushing his massive shoes in front of your feet.

“Wear mine. Then it won’t have to hurt.”

“But then you won’t be wearing—”

He gently slips his shoes on yours after taking your heels off for you, even despite your protests that he’d be wearing nothing but his socks. 

Chan offers a hand out to you, and it’s only then you realize a few silver rings decorating his slender fingers–the ones that are a few inches from your own hand.

When you take his hand, you first discern how big it is compared to yours. He’s very tall, shoulders far broader than yours. It’s driving you a little crazy. Then, your eyes trail down to his massive shoes that’s now on your feet. 

Your attention on his shoes is short-lived when you feel a palm grazing over your waist before settling itself in a gentle grip. The music is muffled, but it’s loud enough that you can still dance a little to the beat. 

“Now, shall we dance?” 

[twstfanblog]

*~Toddler Chronicles- Troublesome Threes~*

A/N: I've been wanting to write this series for MONTHS. but if Im gonna do this, I'm gonna do it in ORDER no matter how much I wanna do certain ones more than others. I hope you guys enjoy the starter for this series! It's gonna be LONG. Word Count: 5K Pairings: Alluded to Vil/Rook Warnings: Children, Me trying to type out a country accent lord help me...

Starter, Pt 1

“I don't think this is a good idea…”

A cloaked group of Night Raven students stood around a cauldron, the only light in the room coming from the bubbling liquid and the moonlight shining through the windows. They all wore masks to hide their identities from the nosey paintings lining the walls.

One of the figures scoffed, their accented voice coming out mockingly as they continued to stir the potion and whispered, “Oh, don't get cold feet now. This whole thing was your idea anyway…”

“I said we should think something up to knock those guys down a peg! Not brew a-”

“Shhhhhh.” Another figure quickly silenced him, turning to look at one of the eavesdropping portraits before addressing the group with a gruff whisper, “We agreed on not saying anything too damning while doing this! Those portraits would sell us out the second anyone asked them if they saw anything…Let’s just finish the damn potion so we can get on with this plan…”

The accented figure nods, reaching over and grabbing a jar to pour the contents into the cauldron.

Another figure reads the jar, tilting their head, “Wait… ‘Powdered Moon Petals’? Didn't the recipe call for ‘Powdered Moon Crystals’? Why are we deviating?”

“Are you insane?” The figure pauses in his stirring to flick at the other in annoyance, “Crewel keeps stuff like that under such heavy lock and key he'd have us expelled for even looking at the cabinet out of class hours. Moon petals are weaker but still have the same effect as moon crystals…” The figure looks at the potion, then adds another generous pour from the jar, “We just need to mix in a bit more than written…”

As the figure stops pouring, the potion gives a flash of light, slipping into an eerily calm shade of blue before fully turning translucent. The group all looked into the cauldron before sharing a smile.

“Now we just need to find a way to slip it to them.”

The nervous figure hummed, bringing his hand to his mouth in thought, “I think…I know the perfect way to do it…”

The sound of a gavel hitting a desk echoed in the semi-empty classroom, Vil sitting at the grand desk in front, “I call this meeting of ‘Juniors Against Freshmen’ to order.”

Cater calls out from his seat, smiling playfully as he raises his hand, “Vil~. I still think we should call ourselves ‘Judicious Juniors’-”

“We aren’t calling ourselves that.”

“Oh, come on.” Cater pouts, “The firsties get their cute little group of Freshest Firsties. We should have a cool group name, too.”

Trey chuckled a bit, raising an eyebrow, “You know this is a support group and not a club right?”

Rook hummed, looking to the side at the small gathering of party platters and large juice dispenser on a lone row of desks, “Are you sure, mon Chevalier des Roses? Though, maybe you are correct and this is more of a party between scorned mentors…”

Idia scoffed, tapping at his phone and tilting it slightly to allow Lilia to watch his game, “I'm not sitting in here for another four hours complaining about our freshmen without any kind of rations. Being around you guys is already like running a dungeon without healing items…”

Lilia perks up, giggling as Idia fails to dodge an attack, “So stimulating and fun?”

Leona sighs, lazily picking at his plate of various slices of meat from the platters, “More like aggravating and torturous…”

Vil bangs the gavel again, rolling his eyes, “Back on subject, please. Idia, you requested to be the first to speak tonight; what was your grievance?”

Sighing, Idia passed his phone to Lilia to continue his dungeon run, “Who's representing Yuu this meeting?” Seeing Malleus and Rook raise their hands, he nearly sat back down, “Oh, of course…Ah! Nope, I'm doing it. I move to add another crime to Yuu's file.”

“Noted. Please state the crime.”

“I want to add on the crime of Yuu teaching my brother the phrasing of ‘Deez Nuts’. I recommend we place another life sentence.”

Malleus frowns, ignoring Lilia's snort beside him and raising his hand, “I object! We have no evidence that my beloved is the one to teach your brother such a phrase.”

Vil raised an eyebrow, leaning his jaw against the back of his hand, “Who else would teach Ortho?”

Gesturing to his side, Malleus deadpans, “Lilia for one.”

Lilia fumbled Idia’s phone as he stammered, managing to just barely flip the device into a still-standing Idia’s hands, “Slander! I regret to inform this court that I do not speak to the Shroud youngling one-on-one often. Our cuteness would simply be too much.” He turns to Malleus, nose wrinkled as he raises an eyebrow in question, “Do you even know what ‘Deez Nuts’ means Malleus?”

“...” Malleus nearly copies Lilia's expression, turning his nose up at the older fae and looking away from him, “I do not. But it sounds eerily similar to something you would say.”

Lilia pouts toward Vil, crossing his arms, “I did no such thing…” He hums, casting a side eye to Cater across the room and raising a hand to tap against his lips, “Ace on the other hand…”

Cater perks up from his texting, slamming a fist onto the desk and yelling over to Lilia, “Why do you always bring up Ace’s crimes when I'm defending him!? Why not when Trey’s his third-year parent!?”

Trey hummed, sitting calm and relaxed knowing he'd have a smooth meeting acting as Deuce’s defendant, “He would though…”

“Trey, Ace is our baby. We have to protect his name!”

“This is your weekend; sorry.”

Cater groaned, rolling his eyes before standing up and pointing to Leona on the other side of Trey, “What about Jack, huh!?”

Leona stopped picking at his fangs with a claw, sucking on his teeth before he raised an eyebrow in question to Cater, “What about Jack?”

Vil spoke up, resting his chin on his elegantly folded hands, “Yes. Do tell, Cater. What about Jack?”

“...” Cater quickly turned back to Lilia, pointing to him instead of trying to place the blame on Jack, “What about Sebek!?”

Lilia and Malleus both gasped, Lilia placing a hand over his mouth and Malleus's fanned over his chest while the older fae said, “Sebek would never.”

“W-well!” Cater sputtered, frustrated at the turn of events before rounding on Vil, “What about Epel!?”

Vil instantly opened his mouth, a finger held up to properly chastise Cater but he sat frozen. He closed his mouth, a pinched expression on his face as he put his finger down and looked to the side. After a moment, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “He…wouldn't…he…knows better…”

Rook cooed from his seat, raising an eyebrow, “Oh…mon roi. Did that hurt to say?”

“Moving on.”

Idia stammered, raising his hands, “I would like a verdict on my case, please!? Ortho is aggressively good at setting me up, I'm getting really sick of it!”

Vil rolled his eyes and gestured to Rook, “We will choose after a small break. Rook, please bring me something from the vegetable platter and a drink.”

“Oui!”

Though mildly by force, the group of juniors decided to take a break. While only a few of them grabbed food, they all grabbed a cup of juice. Nearly in sync, they all take a drink.

��

Leona looked into his cup, squinting his eyes in offense at the liquid, “Who was in charge of the punch?”

Malleus pouted, looking into his own cup in confusion, “I was…”

Rolling his eyes, Leona slid his cup away from him, “Oh, that fucking explains it.”

Trey was quick, grabbing Leona's cup before it spilled onto the classroom floor. Standing up he took both his and Leona's cups to the trash, “Don't start a fight. I'm sure Malleus tried very hard…”

The fae in question turned his sour expression toward Lilia. When Lilia said nothing, merely continuing to drink his juice with a smile, Malleus breathed out a small fireball at Lilia's face.

“Ack! My bangs!” Lilia finally pouted at Malleus, expression confused, “Why are you fussing? The juice tastes fine!”

Cater passes his own cup to Rook as the blonde also collects Vil's unfinished drink, “Lilia, it has the aftertaste of dishwater…”

“...” Lilia took another sip of the juice, smacking his lips as he fully concentrated on the flavor, “...Well, that's not dishwater, I can say that with utmost certainty.” he looked into his half-empty cup, “What is that…?”

Leona coughed slightly, still trying to dislodge the taste from his mouth, “The taste of Draconia fucking up…”

“I will have you know I collaborated with the Asim child on what would be a delightful mix for our meeting.”

“Oh, so we need to sentence Kalim to death alongside you then?”

Idia groaned, digging through his pockets for an emergency piece of hard candy, “Maybe it was…like a ‘phantom flavor’, or something?” He cheers under his breath, quickly unwrapping the candy and shoving it into his mouth.

Vil finishes wiping his tongue on a napkin, “Explain.”

“Oh Seven, um? Yuu told Ortho about it and he's been researching it for a while. It’s the idea that you can load something up with so many flavors you just…make a new flavor that you can't place…not sure how concrete it is, but that's my best guess…”

Malleus hums, glaring into his cup before letting Rook take it to the trash also, “Asim did bring a large variety of syrups and sprites…”

Cater hummed, “Yeah…I love Kalim but I'm not so sure about putting him in charge of drinks…Jamil handles the food for their parties for a reason…” 

Trey smiled, giving Malleus a thumbs up, “But other than the aftertaste, it was really enjoyable, Malleus.”

“I can see your attempts to pacify me, Clover. I shall accept your pity only this once.”

“Okay?”

Vil sighs, banging his gavel on the desk, “Moving on-”

“Um!?” Idia waved a hand around, his hair barely flickering red, “The verdict of my issue, please!?”

“Oh. Right. We sentence Ace to death-”

Cater sputters, looking around the room before tilting his head at Vil, “AGAIN!?”

The meeting continued as normal, though no one could get the phantom taste of the punch free from their mouths, the third years parted ways at the end of the night.

Epel groaned, stomping down the halls of Pomefiore in the early morning. Vil had yet to make an appearance in the dining hall to the rest of the dorm. The house warden made it a habit to always give a morning announcement on the weekend like clockwork, only for neither Vil nor Rook to show up at the normal time.

If he had the choice, Epel wouldn't have even bothered seeing where they were, opting instead to just get his weekend started and hang out with his friends. Sadly, the other third-years had been concerned enough to basically bully him into checking up on their dorm head and vice. ‘You're their favorite, after all…’

Clicking his tongue, Epel ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “Even if ah was their favorite, ah don’ wanna see whatever they're doin’ together...”

He couldn’t fight the unease that welled inside him as he came up to Vil's door, seeing it cracked open but still dark inside. Vil never left his door cracked to sleep…Epel quickly jogged to the room, swinging open the door only to growl in anger at the scene.

The room was dark because the curtains were still drawn and Vil's bed wasn't made, the covers thrown off and half dragged onto the floor as though Vil had crawled out of them. What was pissing him off the most though was the fact Vil's silk pajama pants were also laying on the floor.

He slammed the door closed, making a beeline for Rook's room thinking of nowhere else for them to be, “Ah swear ta the SEVEN. If those two are late because they rolled too hard in the hay-AY! 

Epel banged his fist against Rook's closed door, hearing nothing but silence he started to pound both fists against the door and yell. Hopefully, they had woken up and at least tried to put clothing on, “You two shits better be DRESSED or Ah’m gonna-...”

He had swung the door open, expecting to find a scene of a flustered Vil trying to put himself together and an all too proud Rook sitting in the bed. Instead, he looked at the image of two toddlers on Rook's bed. A bold gold blonde with a messy haircut and green eyes stood on the bedspread, a hand reaching out to the bow and arrow placed on a wall display. Behind him was a second blonde child, large purple eyes peeking past the second child in fear. The longer he looked the more familiar the children appeared.

Epel closed the door, staring into the open air of the hall as he tried to let his brain catch back up. That…that couldn't be…

Taking a deep breath, Epel calmed himself before opening the door again, “Um-AH!” He slams the door back closed, backing away just in time as an arrowhead pierces just slightly through the door.

The look was brief, but the children were clearly Rook and Vil. The fact Rook had quickly gathered a bow in the few seconds Epel had closed the door only cemented the fact. His juniors…were toddlers…why were they toddlers? What was he supposed to do with two potentially homicidal toddlers!?

He grabbed his phone from his pocket, gently knocking on the door and calling out softly, “Ah…Ah'm sorry if ah scared y'all. Ah'm gonna go get ya some grub and clothes that'll fit, okay?”

After a beat of silence, a tiny voice spoke, “I don't want to eat bugs…”

“...” Epel pinched the bridge of his nose. That…had to be Vil, “Grub is food. Ah'm gettin’ ya food…”

“...Oh. Okay. I want fruit and toast, please, thank you…Rook says he wants eggs and bell peppers.”

“Shakshuka!”

“Got it! You two youngings just hang tight, okay?” What the fuck was a Shakshuka?

He didn't have time to worry, dialing Ace’s number and running back to the Pomefiore dining hall to alert his still-grown juniors. He needed all the help he could get.

Epel spoke over the phone, “Ah need ya to get Trey and come to Pomefiore. ASAP.”

Biting into his poptart, Ace responded with a full mouth as he leisurely walked through the halls of Heartlabyul, “For why?”

“Can ya please just not be a fucking bastard fur 5 seconds-”

“Maybe, what's wrong? It's like 8am?”

“...” Epel sighed, the visual of him pinching the bridge of his nose clear in Ace’s mind, “...They're…They're toddlers-”

“I'm sorry. Who’s, what?”

Ace listened to Epel's rant over the phone, claiming both Vil and Rook had somehow turned into toddlers. They didn't seem to have any recollection of who anyone was or how they got into NRC, leaving the dorm in a weakened, panicked state. Through the chaos, missing both their dorm head and vice, various students stepped forward claiming they were the proper ones to take over until this curse was dealt with.

In the moments of strife, Epel had been given the title of babysitter. ‘Since he was the Favorite’.

“How the fuck do you…become a toddler?”

“Ah. Don't. KNOW. Just get Clover over hur to HELP. The third-years are fighting over who gets to wear Vil's crown while he's like this, and everyone else is freaking out like we're about to be under siege any second now. Ah just need an actual component Junior who isn't trying to usurp Vil while he's a defenseless fucking infant right now…”

Ace muttered under his breath but agreed, changing course to go up the stairs to the third-year’s room. Over the line he could hear Epel directing the other Pomefiore students what Vil and Rook had asked for breakfast and if anyone had clothing that could fit children or how to make them fit. Knocking against Trey’s door, Ace realized that he hadn't heard from the third-year yet today either. Normally, Trey would have been up already and making some basic breakfast pastry for the dorm to nibble on until that day's scheduled tea time.

“Trey? You in there man? Something happened in Pomefiore and Epel needs you there like, now…” his brows furrowed at not receiving an answer after another knock, turning the knob to open the door, “Trey? Yo, Trey-...���

In the full-sized canopy bed was Trey, only much smaller and seemingly struggling to place his now too-large glasses on his face. Tiny hands trapped in the sleeves of his button-up sleep shirt.

“...” Ace closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before pulling the phone from his ear and speaking to the toddler in the bed, “Give me a second buddy, I'll come back and help you in a hot minute.”

Large topaz eyes blinked in surprise, Trey held his frames over an eye and closed the other tightly to see Ace clearly, “Who are you?”

“Be back in a minute.” Ace closed the door, putting the phone back to his ear, “ Hey, Epel? Um…we also got a fucking situation over here.”

“What!?”

Ace saw Deuce walking up the stairs, the spade soldier barely getting a greeting out before Ace pointed over his shoulder to the other third-year rooms, “Go check on, Cater. I'm…I got a bad feeling.”

“A bad feeling about what-”

“Just go check, I gotta talk to Riddle!” Ace rushed past Deuce, giving the other first-year no time to question or properly reject his command. 

Deuce sighed but decided to wait on taking his shower after checking on his senpai. Maybe he should have followed Jack's example and stayed at Ramshackle after their morning run…

Ace really didn't mean to slam the door open, but hearing it bash against the side table against the wall only made him pause briefly before addressing Riddle, “Hey, house warden, something happened…”

Riddle didn't look up from his paperwork, sighing and clicking his pen back into an active magic state, poised to fire his collaring spell at Ace, “Someone had better be gravely injured if you're slamming my office door open without even knocking…”

“...” Ace looked to the side, quietly contemplating before looking back to Riddle, “Define injured.”

“Ace-” a jaunty tune started to play from Riddle's phone, making the second-year sigh and hold up a finger, “One moment, Deuce is calling me.”

Ace watches as Riddle answers his phone, both of them jumping in surprise hearing the piercing cries of a child through the receiver. Epel spoke frantically, asking what was going on as Ace shushed him over the phone.

Riddle quickly puts the phone on speaker, calling out in concern, “Deuce!? What's happening, is that a child in the background!?”

“Rosehearts-senpai, help! Cater’s, like, a little kid!?”

The crying voice on the other side calls out, “Go away! You weird guy! I don't know you!”

“Is Ace there!? I need help, he's trying to run out of the room and he kicks surprisingly hard!”

“You SMELL!”

Ace pointed at the phone, catching Riddle's bewildered expression, “Yeah, that…that's what happened to Trey…”

“...”

“So, Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Trey Clover, and Cater Diamond have all turned into young children and retain no memory from their appropriate ages?”

“None, seemingly. We've managed to get Cater to calm down by giving him his phone though. I also casted a resize charm on Trey’s glasses but I would still appreciate if Idia could produce a proper pair after a brief eye exam.”

Ortho nods at Riddle's report, floating down the halls of Ignihyde to reach his brother's room. The house warden had called him since Idia wasn't picking up his phone, so he had to contact the next best person. Idia was possibly still asleep since he gamed much later than normal last night.

“Do you have any information on the Pomefiore third-years?”

“Epel has stated they're both fairly calm after the initial surprise. As far as I know, they’re being fed and clothing is being gathered.”

Ortho reaches his brother's door, “That's good. I will contact our dorm advisor to let him know of the current situation. You should focus on attending to your afflicted dorm members while Nii-san and I work with the teachers to reverse this.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Ortho. I will keep you posted- Ace put Trey down! You're upsetting him! I must go, keep me informed, please.”

“Will do, Riddle Rosehearts! Farewell for now!” Ortho taps his ear, ending the call. Turning to the door he knocks, “Nii-san! It’s me, please open the door!” hearing no reply, Ortho pressed in his override code to open the door himself and turned the lights on in the process, “Nii-San, we need to-...”

His brother’s room was messy as it always was. But laying on the bed, swimming in his now truly oversized hoodie, was a very small version of his brother sleeping. He was starfished on the duvet, one hand managing to escape the large amount of fabric to suck on his thumb contently.

“...Idia?”

The child whimpered, brows furrowing before he rolled over and snuggled deeper into his pillow, “Five more minutes, mama…”

“...” Ortho turned the light back off, “Five more minutes…” he barely registered the sleepy ‘thank you’ before he was closing the door back, pressing in another code to lock it from all access other than his own. He tapped his ear, redialing Riddle. Once the house warden answered, Ortho spoke, “Something happened…”

Yuu and Jack stood in the Ramshackle kitchen, both leaning over the island and looking at each other in silence.

Stirring their cup of now lukewarm latte, Yuu pondered for a moment before pointing at Jack with a raised brow, “Hollandaise?”

Jack shrugged, shaking his head in disbelief, “Of course I’ve had hollandaise. Everyone’s had hollandaise!”

“I have never had fucking hollandaise; that shit was so far out of my tax bracket.”

“Hollandaise is just a fancy word for mayo.”

Yuu snorted, “I’ve been around Trey and Vil way too much to know for a fucking fact, hollandaise and mayo are different.”

Rolling his eyes, Jack huffed and took a sip of his own cup of coffee. He waves at Yuu, “Give me another one…”

“...” Yuu hums, tracing the edge of their cup before pointing at Jack again, “Charcucci?”

“...” Jack sneered, eyes glaring at Yuu’s all too pleased smile, “Charcuterie?”

“You aren’t beating my allegations on you being a snobby rich kid, Jack.”

“Actually knowing what things are called doesn’t make me a snobby rich kid.”

Yuu sips their latte, looking to the side and mumbles into the cup, “No, but skiing in the Shaft Alps every winter does…”

“Shut-” Jack’s ears flick as his phone starts to buzz. He quickly pulls it out, seeing who was calling before answering the phone on speaker, “Ortho?”

Yuu perks up, smiling and calling out, “Morning Ortho!”

“Good morning Prefect Yuu! And good morning to you, Jack Howl. I have an urgent request for you.”

Jack’s expression turns concerned, “What is it?”

“I need you to contact Ruggie Bucchi. I’m still unable to figure out how it happened, but select members of the junior class have been turned into what I estimate to be four-year-olds.”

“...” Jack blinked, looking to Yuu to make sure they heard the same thing as he did, “Why…do you need Ruggie-Senpai for that?”

“Well…I actually need to reach Leona Kingscholar, but his phone seems to be out of service…”

Yuu hums, looking around the kitchen for their own phone to make a few calls, “Yeah he does that when he sleeps, so his phone doesn't even think about ringing.”

“So I tried to call Ruggie Bucchi, but his phone isn't allowing my calls either!”

“Yeah, Ruggie blocked most of our numbers. He says ‘We know what we did’...” Yuu pulls a face at their phone, seeing their call to Lilia had gone to voicemail.

Jack sighed, “I'll call Ruggie-Senpai. Is…everyone okay? Who was turned?”

Ortho sighed from his side of the line, a beeping starting to sound in the background, “My brother for one, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit-”

“Vil!?”

Yuu cooed, sending one-word texts one after the other to Lilia, hoping the constant vibrating would alert the fae his phone demanded his attention, “Aw~. We should tell him his dad sold him to the school.”

“Fucking why- Ortho, I'll call Ruggie-Senpai and keep you posted.”

The beeping in the background suddenly grew to a blaring alert, though Ortho's voice remained chipper, “Thank you, Jack Howl! I must go now. I believe my brother has awakened and is attempting to hack the system in an effort to leave his room. Farewell for now!”

Once the line cut, Jack sighed and started to dial Ruggie. Noticing Yuu also on their phone he raised an eyebrow, “Who are you calling?”

Yuu was growing increasingly frustrated, Lilia wasn't answering his phone and their chain of texts clearly wasn't getting his attention. They'd try to call Malleus, but the horned fae barely remembered owning a phone, much less actually charging it properly; so it was more than likely dead in his side table drawer again.

“I'm trying to get in touch with Lilia since when Leona inevitably says ‘Fuck them kids’ we can get Malleus to help instead.”

“...Fair plan.” The phone finally stops ringing, Ruggie’s annoyed voice coming through the speaker, “Ruggie-Senpai! There's a strange occurrence happening among the third-years. Some of them have been turned into 4-year-olds and Ortho is asking for Leona's help.”

“...” Ruggie starts laughing, hiccuped cackling and choked snorts before he speaks, “Damn! You gotta be desperate if you guys are asking Leona to help with a bunch of kids. Who got turned?”

Jack sighs but feels mildly better hearing Ruggie moving on the other side of the line, “As far as I know Idia-Senpai, Trey-Senpai, Cater-Senpai, Rook-Senpai, and Vil-Senpai…That's all Ortho said.”

Yuu and Jack wait in silence, Ruggie going quiet over the line but starts muttering under his breath. Neither of them heard much past Ruggie repeating the names, double checking the date and noting how 'They had a meeting last night'. The two first years look at each other before Jack calls out, “Ruggie-Senpai? Is everything okay?”

The two freshmen wait with bated breath, listening to Ruggie suddenly swear and the sound of him running. A door is slammed open and Ruggie swears again, only louder, “Ruggie-Senpai!?”

“He's not FUCKING HERE! FUCK-”

The call cuts out, leaving Yuu and Jack in silence past the dial tone.

Yuu perks up, someone finally picking up their call, “Sebek? Yeah, hey, shut up. Yes, I did change my contact name on your phone to Malleus, that's not the important part right now. I need you…to check up on Lilia and Malleus; I think something…happened to them…”

Silver and Sebek walked briskly down the hall toward Malleus’s room. Lilia's had been empty, yet full of uncharacteristic traits. His computer seemed to have been on all night, the death screen of his game displayed over the monitor. The bed was empty, so he hadn't fallen asleep suddenly either. Sebek had suggested that Lilia went to check on Malleus in the night, falling asleep in his room instead.

Silver hummed, “Still, he didn't even pause his game…I'm just concerned…”

Scoffing, Sebek rolled his eyes, “There is nothing to worry yourself over! Lilia-Sama and Waka-Sama are the strongest mages on campus; there's nothing that could waver their-”

The sound of a piercing scream echoed in the hall, the voice painfully young and terrified as it trailed off into sobs.

The two guards sprinted, slamming the door open and blanking only for a moment at the scene before them.

Halfway up one of the banisters of the canopy bed was a horned child, a chubby black-scaled tail barely poking out from the bottom of a far too large sleep shirt. He cried and struggled to pull himself higher from the black mass of a hissing and jumping creature below him.

Their brief moment of hesitation faded and Sebek sprung forward to sweep who he could only conclude to be a de-aged Malleus away from the danger of the unknown beast. Silver quickly drew his wand in its sword form, trying to cast a stunning spell on the now skittering mass.

Sebek manages to pull the crying child into his arms, standing on the bed and looking him over, “Waka-Sama! Have you been harmed!?”

Malleus wailed, rubbing his eyes in an effort to clear his tears, “Baul! I woke up and this monster was here! I want grandmother!”

Oh, that was…Sebek wasn't sure if he was prepared for this. He looked over to Silver, hoping his sophomore had some insight into how to calm their liege.

Instead, he got to watch the second-year bob and weave around the bedroom, caught in a dance with the unknown creature as it continued to dodge his spells and new efforts to simply grab it. Luckily, the beast made a break for the window. Unable to properly launch itself out due to its size, it struggled on the ledge long enough for Silver to grab it by its small pale legs.

Silver held the still hissing creature upside down by the legs, the long hair falling away to reveal a hissing naked child with bright red eyes and tiny fangs.

“...” Sebek looked away, covering a sniffling Malleus's eyes, “Is that-”

“Oh lord, this is my father.” Silver tried to gently place the seemingly feral child on the ottoman, only to have Lilia grip onto his wrist and pull himself up to bite into Silver's arm, “Ow? OW, OW!”

Sebek watched in mild horror as Lilia's child form started to bite at any exposed skin on Silver, tiny fang marks left behind to slowly bleed as the sophomore struggled to restrain the child.

He feels a tug at his collar, looking in his arms at the sniffling fae princeling.

Malleus looked around the room with a cautious eye, seeming to realize this was not his bedroom in the castle, “Baul…where are we? Where's Lilia?”

“...” Sebek quickly pulled his phone out, heartbreakingly ignoring his liege’s tearful questions and redialing Yuu.

“Yo, Sebek, you called back quick. Can Malleus and Lilia help-”

“SOMETHING HAPPENED!”

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return: Part 12

The Morning After

Part 1 | Next Part | Table of Contents | Read this on A03

We did it folks! We made it to the end of the first act! I hope you enjoy!!! Thanks so much for sticking with me through this little journey (and if you're new here, I suggest you go all the way back to Part 1 and start from there!)

Word Count: 6.7k Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace CW: they’re just being cute and flirty once again

You woke with a start, a loud bang echoing nearby. It took you a second to place where you were and why your body ached. The mission, the ball, Garp, running through the woods, the files, Ace. 

“It’s okay,” Ace whispered. His strong arms were still wrapped around you, your head still against his chest. “Just sunrise artillery from the Navy Base.”

You nuzzled deeper into his chest. You didn’t get cold, but you liked the warmth he emitted. “How’d you sleep?”

“Didn't,” he said. 

“What do you mean you didn’t?”

He lazily traced lines across your back, deep in thought. “I kept watch all night.”

You snorted. “That was stupid.”

“What if the Navy found us?”

“We would’ve heard them.”

“What if they were sneaky?” He tickled your sides, making you let out a joyous laugh and jerk away from him. 

You quickly curled back into his chest once you were sure his assault was over. “We still would’ve heard them.”

Ace hummed. “What if a candle knocked over and caught the place on fire?”

“We’re made of fire, idiot.”

“Oh yeah.” He pulled you closer, so that you were almost completely on top of him. “Guess that’s true.”

“We should get up,” you noted. Marco would be waiting for you at the shoreline. 

“Five more minutes,” Ace begged. His fingers swirled along your back, enticing you to stay longer.

You sighed, snuggling closer to him. You didn’t want to get up yet. You just wanted to stay here with Ace, in your own corner of the world. 

“Hey, listen,” Ace started, breaking the silence after a few minutes. “I’m really sorry about last night.”

Your heart dropped. Was he already feeling remorse about your time together? 

“What about it?” 

“I sacrificed the whole mission and your safety because I didn’t tell you about my connection with Garp. I’m sorry for putting you in danger. That won’t happen again. That was really stupid of me.”

“That was really stupid of you,” you agreed, a wave of relief washing over you. You couldn’t even be mad at him anymore. You were furious last night, but it all seemed so trivial now. “Just, please promise me no more secrets from now on, okay? Especially ones that are important like that. And no more lies.”

“Okay,” he sighed, rubbing your back. “Then there’s something else I probably should tell you.”

His voice sounded more guarded, as if he were anxious. Your head jerked up, meeting his eyes. “What?”

Ace gave a hard swallow and sat up, pulling you along with him. Your heart started to quicken again, wondering what could be making him so nervous. 

You could tell he was trying to muster courage, so you didn’t rush him. Your hand reached out and grabbed his, giving it a squeeze of encouragement. 

“I lied the other day.” Ace finally said, his words rushing out. “I don’t want us to be casual. I want to be only yours, and you be only mine. I know I said I don’t like the whole exclusive thing, because I like freedom or whatever. But when I’m with you…God when I’m with you, I feel more free than I’ve ever felt in my life.

“I just…I wanted to tell you.” He paused for a moment, giving a hard swallow. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way, but I couldn’t keep it in. I hope it doesn’t make things awkward between us, because I want you in my life, whatever I can get. If you don't-”

“I do,” you said, squeezing his hands tighter. 

“You do?”

“Of course I do!” You pulled him in so your forehead touched his, the smell of campfire flooding your senses. “Portgas D. Ace, I want to be yours and only yours.”

“And I’m yours,” he mumbled back, pushing his lips against yours to seal the deal. 

You stayed tangled in the bed sheets, embracing each other fully, until the sun was brightly shining through the curtains. 

You finally pulled away from him, trying to get up. “We should head for the coast,” you said. “Marco’s probably getting impatient.”

Ace groaned, grabbing your arm and pulling you back to him. “Five more minutes.” He dotted your forehead with kisses between his words. 

“You said that five minutes ago. And the five minutes before that. And the five minutes before that.”

“And I’ll say it again in five minutes.”

You giggled and pinched his sides, forcing him to release you. You quickly jumped out of bed, pulling the covers along with you. 

“Hey!” Ace desperately reached for the duvet, but you managed to yank it from his grasp. 

“Up!” you shouted, throwing the blanket across the room and walking into the closet. “Come on! We have to go!”

Ace puckered out his lips in a pout, but he got up and sulked across to the closet, trying to find an outfit to wear. 

“Let’s go as a couple on a mid-morning beach stroll,” you offered, looking through the sundresses that the owner of the house had left behind. There was a checkered white and yellow dress that caught your eye, and you grabbed it. 

“So I just need to wear shorts and some flip-flops?”

“And a shirt.” You didn’t need another repeat of last night. You could hear him groan, but he didn’t put up an argument. You browsed the woman’s shoes, and picked out a cute pair of white-flowered sandals. They were a size too big and they weren’t very practical, but after running in heels last night, you weren’t afraid of anything. You retreated out of the closet and into the master bathroom to change. 

The dress was a perfect fit, and you twirled around in front of the mirror to check all of the angles. It was comfortable and easy to run in, but still complimented you in all the right ways. The only thing you were missing was a sun hat to cover your face and a beach bag to hold your things. 

You quickly combed your fingers through your hair, trying your best to tame the flyaways and knots that had formed overnight, and then you walked out of the bathroom. Ace was waiting for you in an unbuttoned dark blue floral shirt and tan cargo pants. He looked so handsome standing there, you couldn’t help but smile. 

“What?” he asked, a pink hue from embarrassment spreading across his cheeks. He looked down at himself, as if he was afraid he had forgotten something. 

“Nothing.” You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a soft peck on the lips.  “You just look nice.”

“As do you.” Ace gave you another, slightly longer kiss. “A life like this wouldn’t be too bad.”

You laughed and broke away from him to go find a bag. “We’d both be bored and you know it.”

“I know, I know.” His voice sounded like it had a hint of longing. 

As you dug through the closet, you couldn’t help but think of a life like this. You used to scoff at the idea of an island life, but maybe Ace wasn’t wrong. The two of you in a small cottage together, never having to look over your shoulder or be afraid of the Navy discovering your hideout. Maybe you could even have a few local friends, like that girl at the bar. Life could hold a slower pace. It didn’t sound so terrible with Ace by your side. 

But you loved your life of adventure on the sea, and you couldn’t imagine that being taken away from you. The beauty in life was the thrill of the chase. You can’t have that as a law-abiding island citizen. Besides, the Navy would never just look the other way if they ever saw you or Ace strolling the streets casually. You’d never be free from those wanted posters. Even if you wanted a quiet life, the two of you could never have it now. It was better to just push that delusional thought away and focus on what you did have. 

You were deep in thought when you came across an oddly shaped box. Curious, you opened it and found the perfect hat to complete your outfit. You squealed out in joy as you placed it atop your head, admiring the look. It was a straw hat, similar to the one Shanks used to wear when you were a kid. But this one was much higher quality, with a wider brim and a dark blue ribbon with a bow, almost the same shade as Ace’s shirt. 

“Everything okay?” Ace asked, walking into the closet. He laughed upon realizing the source of your excitement. “Cute hat.”

“Isn’t it?!” You beamed at him, satisfied with your find. “It’s perfect!”

“Reminds me of Luffy,” he noted. “He’s got one like that.”

“You need a hat too.” You flipped over to the husband's side of the closet, looking through the options. 

“I have a hat!” Ace scowled. “The orange one, remember?”

“I mean right now! To cover up that hair! And your face! The Navy got a better look at you than me, after all.”

You found a plain yellow ball cap that was only a few shades off of your dress, and handed it off to him. 

“Yellow isn’t really my color,” Ace said, taking the cap reluctantly.

“Too bad.” You pointed to your hat, and then to his shirt. “Our hats match the other one’s outfit. It’s like a couple thing.”

Ace groaned. “Please tell me you’re not that kind of girl.”

Your eyebrows knitted together in irritation. “What kind of girl?”

“The kind that’s gonna make me wear certain things because we're a couple and we have to match with everything we wear and do.”

“Idiot!” You hissed, smacking his head. “This is our cover story! To slip past the Navy and meet Marco?”

Ace gave you a blank stare, looking between his cap and you in silence. It was clear he had forgotten that you all were on a mission, not a vacation. 

“Just put the hat on,” you grumbled, turning back to look for a beach bag again. 

After a few moments, you found a decent-sized tote that would fit your dress and the files you had collected. You quickly shoved your items in the bag, and Ace extinguished the remaining candles around the room. 

You checked yourself over one more time in the bathroom mirror, and realized there were welts and bruises up and down your neck and chest area from last night’s activities. You fished out some of the concealer Whitey had left you, and did your best to cover them up. 

As you worked, you let your mind wander again. You wondered if there was a place you could be safe enough to live a quiet life. The islands your father protected had to be somewhat safe, especially if you were there. Perhaps the Navy would leave you and Ace alone if you didn’t cause any trouble. You had only just begun your adventure with him, but you couldn’t help but enjoy the simplicity of a home, a space to call your own. 

Ace popped his head into the bathroom, breaking you from your thoughts. “Ready?” 

You didn’t do as well as Whitey did, but most people probably wouldn’t notice the bruises on your body. Smoothing out your dress, you tried your best not to think about the what-ifs. You were a pirate, and so was Ace. You would live as pirates, and die as pirates. There was nothing more to it.

“Yeah.” 

You grabbed the house key and left behind the sapphire necklace you had worn the previous night, just in case the family returned home again. You wanted to give them something for allowing you to stay in their house, even if they had no say in the matter.

The two of you slipped out the back door and locked it, hiding the key where you had found it before. 

“Where do we go from here?” Ace asked, looking around. The little street was completely empty, no people to be seen. 

You pointed to the left. “That’s north, so let’s head that way. Stay on the paths, though.”

The two of you walked silently on the sidewalk. There weren’t many people out, and the ones you passed would barely make eye contact with you. The Navy must’ve sent out some kind of vague warning to keep people off the streets. It was smart. 

Ace’s bounty poster was up all throughout the town. You hadn’t noticed that detail yesterday evening, which made you unsettled. Thankfully his poster wasn’t a good representation of how he looked now. The blonde hair helped, but his bounty picture looked a few years old at this point. 

“I was seventeen in that picture,” Ace mumbled, reading your mind. “I didn’t even have my tattoos yet.”

“How’d you rack up a bounty that high when you were seventeen?” 

“I didn’t. I started out at 10,000 or some low number. It kept growing over the years, but the picture never changed. Not sure why.”

You laughed. “It helps us now, at least. Kind of funny that they have such a high bounty on the picture of a kid, though.”

“You’re one to talk! The little braided pigtails and the tongue sticking out at the camera is such a cute look on you.” Ace grinned at you, and you groaned. Your old bounty poster was at least five years old now, probably more than that. 

“They thought I was dead,” you whispered. “It’s different.”

“You don’t even look threatening in your picture. Three hundred and thirty million berries for a child is insane.”

You sighed, kicking a pebble down the sidewalk. “Not when you’re a Newgate. That name has gotten me more of a reputation in life than I could ever give myself.”

“Maybe for the Navy.”

“For everything,” you said. “For my position, my ideas, my upbringing, even my devil fruit powers. It always ties back to my father and my name.”

Ace shook his head. “Not true.”

You shot him a look. “What do you mean, not true?”

“Everything I heard about you was your own,” Ace said. “I didn’t find out you were a Newgate until I saw your bounty poster. Sure people make snide comments sometimes, but you got to where you are now because you’re good at what you do. Not because of your name.”

“Well yeah.” You had to agree with him there. “But I only got that opportunity because of my na-”

“No.” Ace’s voice was more forceful now. “Names have nothing to do with it. Blood has nothing to do with it. You are where you are because of the choices you made. Not because of who your father is.”

You could tell this was a sensitive subject for him, so you chose to let it go. He was right, after all. Even if you didn’t always feel that way. 

Instead of answering, you laced your fingers through his and the two of you resumed walking in silence until you reached the coast. You had passed by a few low-ranking Naval Officers as you walked through town, but none of them had stopped you. 

But the coast was different. It was slightly secluded and was crawling with Naval members of much higher ranks. There were still civilians on the beach, but Officers seemed to be checking IDs before they’d allow anyone past them. 

“Fuck,” you hissed under your breath, and Ace’s grip on your hand tightened. 

You kept your casual pace, walking down the street that ran parallel to the beach. There didn’t appear to be a good option. You couldn’t even see the ocean to see if Marco was waiting for you. 

“This way,” you whispered, leading Ace off into a dense patch of trees. You needed a better vantage point. You needed to look for Marco’s boat. If he was there, you could make a better plan. 

The two of you moved through the woods as quietly as you could, aiming for the top of the gentle slope. When you got to the top, you peered out across the horizon, until your eyes fell upon a small fishing boat. 

“Do you have binoculars?” you whispered, but Ace shook his head. 

“They’re back at the rendezvous point, I think.”

It was all or nothing, then. If the boat wasn’t Marco, you all would be in deep shit anyway. You pulled out your compact mirror, trying to catch the light that fell between the tree branches. 

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Ace asked, looking around. 

You aimed the mirror at the small fishing boat, moving it slightly from side to side to signal it. “What is?”

“There were so many high-level officials. Admirals, Vice Admirals, even Sengoku. But we haven’t seen them yet.”

“They’re here,” you assured him. The man on the fishing boat got up and turned to look in your direction. After a few moments, the boat started rowing toward the dock nearby. 

“They’re hiding,” you continued to explain. “Waiting for us to make an appearance. The island is about 10 miles of shoreline, so they’re probably evenly spaced throughout it. Sengoku and the two admirals that are here are likely in the middle of the island, waiting for an official report to come through so they can get to the scene and capture us.”

“Can they get here that fast?”

“Sengoku can.” He was one of the few navy men that really scared you. You could escape from Akainu and Aokiji- in fact, you had once before. You hadn’t seen Kizaru last night and suspected that he wasn’t on the island, which was the best outcome. You’d take Akainu and Aokiji over Kizaru any day.

But Sengoku was not someone you ever wanted to encounter again. Once had been enough, and thankfully you hadn’t been his target. Since you had acted with civility and he respected your father, he had let you off with a warning. But that had been when you were just a child. You doubted he would give you the same grace now. 

Your eyes stayed on the boat as it rowed closer. A small blue flame was burning at the front, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you finally saw it. Marco. You were almost to safety. 

“And how do we beat him?” Ace asked. “Sengoku?”

You referred back to your old strategy compendium. “As long as he hasn’t been told directly to target you, he will usually leave low-level pirates alone if they’re not causing problems. He just wants to get his job done.”

Ace bit his lip, deep in thought. “But he’s been told to target us. And we have been causing problems.”

You gritted your teeth, frustration and fear rising. “I know.”

“So how do we-”

“I don’t know, Ace!” you cried, looking at him in desperation. “We’re screwed if he finds us, okay? I don’t have a plan!”

“Hey.” Ace’s arms immediately wrapped around you, pulling you tight against him. “It’s okay. We’re almost home and we’ve got each other. We’ll make it.”

You let him hold you for a few moments, trying to calm yourself down. It was a short distance between the forest and the dock. If you timed it right, you could sneak out without ever alerting the guards. You could escape without them being the wiser. 

As the row boat got closer, you realized there were three members aboard. Kala and Mihal must’ve made it to the boat already, which was good news. You were likely only going to get one go at this. You also noticed that the boat had been fitted with a new engine, an addition that Ace seemed to be thrilled about. 

“I can use my flames to power that,” he said. “Pops had it built custom for me. We’ll be able to fly out of here.”

“We just have to get there,” you mumbled. Your eyes scanned the shoreline, and your dread mounted as you watched two Officers begin to walk toward the little dock Marco was heading towards. 

“Get ready,” you grabbed his hand and crept to the tree line, crouching to remain more hidden. “We’re going to have a short window of time.”

The two navy men stood, waving to the boat. You could hear them calling out, demanding to see forms of identification from each member. Marco continued drifting in at a slow pace, pretending to rummage around for an ID. 

Once Marco finally got close enough to the dock, you pulled Ace’s arm. “Let’s move.”

The two of you walked briskly to the little dock, trying your best not to draw attention to yourself. It was only thirty yards. You were so close. 

“I’m telling ya, I don’t carry an ID on me! You’ve seen me out here all morning!” Marco yelled to the officers. “Why would I-”

“I’m sorry sir, then we’ve got to call it in. Just protocol. We’ll get the Fleet Admiral down here and we can sort it out.”

“I don't think that's...” Marco’s voice faltered when he saw you and Ace coming towards him.

The man pulled out his snail transponder. “Hello, Fleet Admiral? This is section 2-0-6-B-5. We’ve got a situation.”

Seconds. You had seconds to act. You sprinted as fast as you could, Ace right on your heels. In a panic, you grabbed the transponder and pushed the man into the ocean. Ace followed suit, shoving the other Navyman into the water. The two of you jumped onto the boat, not even bothering to look back. 

“Come in section 2-0-6-B-5.” Sengoku’s eager voice was on the other end of the line, and your stomach did flips. “What’s your status?”

The engine roared to life, Ace fueling it with every drop of power that he could. The boat took off, the tiny dock and the island getting smaller by the second. 

“2-0-6-B-5.” The voice was angrier and deeper now. You suspected it was Akainu. “Give your status report! Right now!”

Everyone’s eyes were on you, waiting to see what you would do. Ace gave you a playful grin and nodded, encouraging you silently. 

You pressed the snail transponder button, your voice echoing through the speaker. 

“You lose again, Akainu. Better luck next time.” 

A smile appeared across your face at the thought of his reaction, and you were certain he could hear your smug attitude across the transponder. 

“Newgate?!” Akainu shouted. “Somebody get Garp over here immediately!” 

You could hear roars of anger and frustration as the chaos ensued, and you quickly disconnected the snail so you couldn’t be tracked or contacted again. You threw the connection device into the ocean, pride swelling in your chest. It had been close, but there were no casualties or injuries, which means it had been an overwhelming success as long as…

You turned to Kala. “Did you get the photos of the documents?”

“A walk in the park.” She grinned, handing over her snail to you. “We were in and out in 20 minutes. Took the Navy a little too long to realize Ace probably wasn’t acting alone. By that point, we were already out and setting off the flare.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Good to hear. Glad it was a success.”

“You scared the shit out of me,” Marco said, shoving you lightly. “I heard on the hacked transponder that Ace was captured. And then Ace was free. And then he was gone and had taken a prisoner with him. I never heard anything about you! What the hell were you doing?”

“Wait, they never said anything about me?” you glanced at Ace, confused. Surely the Navy should know by now. Garp should’ve told them when you escaped.

“Nothing,” Mihal said, and Kala nodded in agreement. “You must’ve played your part pretty damn well. No wonder Pops calls you for infiltration work.”

“You were amazing!” Kala gushed. “That slap sounded and looked so real! How long did you guys rehearse that?”

“The slap was real,” Ace groaned, but he was smiling down at you from where he was. “She did it with no warning, too. Incredible thinking on the spot.”

Marco glanced between the two of you, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “I think I’m going to need a recap of the night.”

“We will,” Ace assured him. “When we get back to the Moby Dick. We’ll give everyone a briefing of what happened.”

Marco kept trying to catch your eye, but you refused to look at him. You knew he would be able to read your face to learn whatever he wanted to know, and you didn’t want to deal with the repercussions of last night quite yet. 

Instead, you curled up on a small part of the boat and opted to take a nap. You had gotten good sleep last night, but you had been up quite late. And between all of the running and adrenaline rushes, you were starting to feel very drained now that you were safe. 

You dreamed of a small stone home that overlooked the sea. You felt safe here, on this hidden island away from the world. It felt like the home your father always told you about when you were young. You were standing at the front door, calling out to a group of people that were playing in the surf of the ocean. A man, who you quickly realized was Ace, and two small children. You couldn’t help but smile, watching them run up the hill to your home, the toddlers struggling to keep up with the man you were so fond of. This was your little family, you suddenly realized. Your slice of paradise, the people who you would live and die for. 

And then, on the horizon: what you had thought were clouds were actually sails, the crest of the Navy proudly displayed. Your joy quickly turned to horror, and you turned and ran inside to grab anything to defend yourself. 

As you walked through the threshold, your home became a concrete room. Shackles on the wall suddenly tied to your wrists and pulled you in, clinging you to the wall. You were trapped. The sound of an iron gate slammed behind you. 

“Did you really think you could get out?” A calm voice came from behind you. Sengoku. “Did you really think you could escape from the Navy? I won’t be so forgiving this time, I’m afraid.”

“Please,” you sobbed, turning to face him. “I just want to live a normal life. Just me and Ace. Please.”

Sengoku’s face slowly morphed into Akainu, and you flinched from the heat he was emitting. Normally you burned hotter than he did, but today was different. The sea prism cuffs made you feel his full effect, and you realized why so many people were afraid of him. 

He grinned down at you, pure hatred in his eyes. “You’re going to get exactly the life you deserve,” he growled. “It’d be a fitting end for a magma girl to be burned at the stake, don’t you think? And we have just the man to set the flames.”

Ace appeared next to him, looking at you with such disgust that you shrank into the wall. If looks could kill, this surely would’ve been the end for you. He was dressed in a Navy outfit, just last night. But he was colder towards you, as if he were a stranger now. 

“Did you really think I cared about you?” he goaded, laughing in your face. “You need to wake up.”

You couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes now. The shackles held you so tight, you couldn’t even wipe them away. “Ace-”

“Y/N. Wake up,” he said again, his voice still full of anger. “Wake up!”

You opened your eyes with a start, letting out a soft sob. Ace’s big, dark eyes stared at you in concern, his hand resting on your face. It was a dream. Of course it was a dream. 

“You okay?” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re crying.”

“Fine,” you mumbled, pushing away from him and finally wiping at your eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Bad dream?” His arm reached out for you and you flinched away from him, causing him to hesitate. 

“I just want to be alone right now.”

“Well, bad news about that…” Ace gave a nervous chuckle. “We’re home.”

You looked up at him in slight alarm, your heart spiking. “Home?”

He pointed upward, and you realized you were sitting in the shadow of something massive. You turned around to find the Moby Dick in front of you. Home.

“Why don’t you go to my room and take a nap? I’ll go debrief Pops and then tomorrow we can have a full debrief with everyone together. You look even more tired than you did when you fell asleep.” 

“No.” You shook your head and wiped at your eyes. “I’ll be fine. It was just a bad dream. ”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No!” you snapped. He looked hurt by your harshness, and you tried to rephrase it in a gentler tone. “Sorry, not right now. Maybe later, if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Ace said immediately, a smile returning to his face. “Whenever you want.”

You gave a silent nod and stood to grab the rope ladder. You climbed one rung before you turned back to him. 

“You’re not a secret Navy officer, right?”

Ace gave you a momentary blank stare and then burst into laughter. “Do you think I’m smart enough to pull that over on you? A pirate’s life is the only way for me.”

You gave him a nervous smile and started climbing again, trying to ignore the dull ache in your chest. You could trust Ace, you knew that in your bones. He would never betray you. It was just a bad dream. 

But if a pirate’s life was the only way for him, then the first part of your dream was just as unrealistic as the second part. 

“There she is!” 

Thatch pulled you over the railing of the ship and the other commanders gathered around to greet you. As you planted your feet on the ship, you remembered why you loved it here. Everyone’s smiling faces, glowing with pride at your accomplishment. There was never any envy among you and your adoptive siblings. Ace was right. This was home. 

Ace joined you on the deck, and the group of commanders and strategists began walking to the meeting office where you knew your father was waiting for you. Ace seemed to get more nervous the closer you got to the briefing room, but you were excited to share your successes of the previous night. 

You chose to sit between Ace and Kala since you knew that you all would be doing most of the talking. After everyone was seated, Ace began his recap of the evening. It took everything you had not to interject or add extra details, but you didn’t want to appear disrespectful. 

“We ended up deciding that Team A would become the distraction team while Team B would move to retrieval. The distraction-”

“Why?” your father interjected. He was never afraid to question decisions.

Ace turned to you, unsure how to respond. 

“There was an altercation with a Rear Admiral,” you admitted. 

Whitebeard’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of altercation?”

“I was dancing with him, and he offered to give me a tour of the house. I accepted but failed to inform Ace of the change in plans. He thought the Rear Admiral was taking me away, and quickly intervened. It drew the attention of the higher-ups, so we changed plans.”

Your father watched you and Ace very closely, looking for any signs of a lie. But you had told him the truth. Mostly, anyway. 

“And what exactly was this distraction?”

“She slapped me. Hard. It hurt pretty bad,” Ace said, rubbing his cheek at the memory. You had to cover your mouth to keep yourself from giggling, but the rest of the table wasn’t so polite and burst out into laughter. Even your father cracked a smile. 

Once everyone settled down, you continued the story. “I implied that he had made some kind of derogatory comment and got him taken away by some high-level officers and-”

“And then they took my shirt off and saw my tattoo!” Ace shook his head, chuckling as he remembered. “That really threw things into chaos.”

“Where were you?” your father directed the question towards you, and everyone turned to look.

“Oh.” You gave a shrug. “I was being questioned by a few Navy people about the man I came with and such. It wasn’t much of a big deal.”

“Nobody recognized you?” Marco asked. He sounded shocked. 

“My wanted poster is old and discontinued,” you explained. “And I had a good cover story.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” your father said, and your cheeks tinted in embarrassment. 

“A Vice Admiral recognized me as he was speaking to me privately, but it appears he didn’t notify anyone until after we had left the island.” 

Your father’s eyes widened. “Who?”

“Monkey D. Garp.”

You could hear a few sharp inhales around the room. Even your father looked startled, but his gaze was now on Ace. 

“How did you escape that?” Thatch asked. You could tell the group was holding you in a newfound respect, but you hadn’t done much. You were fairly certain Ace appearing was the only reason you weren’t rotting in a cell now. 

“Ace,” you said. “He burst through the window and shocked Garp, and the two of us made an escape. We hid out in an abandoned house until morning, and made our escape.”

A few whistles and whoops of congratulations came from around the table, but your father’s gaze on you was clear. He’d let you lie now, but you were expected to tell him the truth later. 

“That’s one hell of a re-entry back into the pirate world,” Namur said. “They don’t even know why, but a woman they thought was dead and the second division commander wrecked a Marine Ball for no reason, and then escaped off the island riddled with Marines without even being noticed.”

“Oh actually, they probably do think we had a reason for being there.” You reached into your bag, grabbed the files you had collected, and slid them across the table to your father. “Four files, mostly unimportant. But they think they know what we were doing there.”

Your father picked them up. “Have you examined them?”

You nodded, listing them off on your fingers. “A report on a country in Paradise under the control of a warlord. One about Roger’s late life. A falsified RA attack, and a rookie report.”

Your father nodded. “Could be useful, if put in the right hands.”

You shrugged. “Interesting reads for curious minds.”

A strategist from the eleventh division, Omri, reached for a file, but your father shoved them under some other papers he had. “I’d like to look at each file first before I distribute them. Kala and Mihal, please tell your side of the story now.”

Kala spoke most of the time, but the report was fast. Your father didn’t ask any questions, surprisingly, but she was very thorough in her report. She knew what was important and what wasn’t. You could see yourself getting along with her if you got to know her better. 

“Then the mission was a success,” your father said after Kala was done. “I’m glad to hear. Good job on everyone’s hard work to get it done. A celebration is in order for tonight. Everyone is dismissed.”

Everyone let out a closing cheer and started to get out of their seats. There were chores to be done and meals to be cooked, and you wanted to see those naval schematics to fine-tune your plan. 

“Division two leaders, stay behind.” Your father’s voice made your skin tingle. You were certain you’d have to answer a lot of questions, some you really weren’t looking forward to. 

A few of the commanders laughed as they left the room, but you and Ace stayed seated. Neither of you spoke, waiting for your father to ask the first question. You weren’t about to offer up more information than what he asked, and you were sure Ace felt the same. 

After a prolonged silence, he finally spoke. “Would you like to tell me what really happened last night?”

Ace stiffened beside you, proving that there had been some kind of lie that had been told. You silently cursed him. He’d have to get better about acting under pressure if he was going to stick around. 

“Garp knew who I was, but based on the intel I collected, he didn’t inform anyone of my identity until after we left the island.”

“Go on.” Your father watched you, his eyes flicking to Ace occasionally to see if you were telling the truth. Ace was like a walking lie detector around him. That would be troublesome if he asked the wrong questions.

“He brought my bounty poster into the room when he spoke to me. I believe his goal was-” You hesitated, but a nod of encouragement from Ace allowed you to keep talking. “His goal was to lure Ace into the room. He was sure that Ace was waiting outside, and he positioned himself to make it appear as if he was hurting me. Ace came through the window, the three of us spoke for a little while, and then Ace and I escaped without further problems.”

“What did you speak about with Garp, exactly?”

Ace cleared his throat. “About how he wanted me to be a Marine.”

You shot him a look. “And that you didn’t tell me your grandfather was in the Navy.”

This news didn’t seem to phase your father. “And after that? Then what happened?”

You nodded, getting back to the information you had to share. “Marco said that there was only ever a report that Ace grabbed a hostage. And the next morning, there were plenty of posters for Ace. But I didn’t see any for me.”

Whitebeard nodded. “So the Navy doesn’t know you’re alive? Good.”

“Well…” You gave your father an embarrassed smile. “I might have revealed it as we were leaving the island.”

Your father scowled at you, clearly irritated by your decision. “I told you to stop burning boats as you leave places. It gets messy.”

“I didn’t! But…hypothetically, I may have sent a message with a Marine Transponder Snail to Akainu telling him better luck next time.”

Your father stared at you for a few moments, trying to decide whether to scold you or laugh. You had to admit, it was a pretty stupid blow of your cover, but it was such a hilarious way to reintroduce yourself to the Navy you weren’t even mad about the increased risk you had given yourself

“You’ve got to watch that Admiral,” your father finally said, giving a light chuckle. “He’s cocky, but he’s got a temper that burns hotter than yours.”

You scoffed. “Too bad he doesn’t have the power to match it.”

Your father really laughed now, and you could feel the tension melt away again. You and Akainu were similar in all of the worst ways, but you had always been better than him. Which meant you had to mess with him whenever you could. And you almost always had your father’s support when you messed around with the Navy. 

“Okay, you two can go.” Your father wiped a tear from his eye and you smiled. 

You started to get up and head for the door, but Ace stayed seated.

“There’s one more thing you need to be aware of, Pops,” Ace said. The tone in his voice made you stop in your tracks. 

“Ace-”

“We’re dating.” Ace was staring at his hands, too afraid to make eye contact with you or your father. His words brought fluster to your cheeks, and you could see your father’s eyes widen in response. 

Whitebeard’s eyes flashed to you, dangerous and stormy. “Out,” he commanded. 

“But-”

“Out!” His haki began to roll over you in waves, but it didn’t affect you like it used to. You just rolled your eyes and exited the room, praying that you’d still have a boyfriend after their conversation was over. 

You waited for five minutes, and then ten. Ace still hadn’t come out, and you had started pacing the deck outside the office in anticipation. You were so anxious, you didn’t notice Marco standing nearby until he spoke. 

“Ace has been in there an awful long time,” Marco said, causing you to jump. 

“I don’t want to hear anything,” you grumbled. “You’re only going to make it worse”

“You know you’re off limits, right?” Marco asked, walking over to you. “Pops has never outrightly said it, but the commanders are supposed to leave you alone.”

You laughed dryly. “Only if they know what’s good for them. I could take any of them any day.”

“Not in a fight. I mean romantically, dummy.” He ruffled your hair, causing you to shoot him a look. “Commanders are to leave the Princess alone. It’s the unspoken rule.”

God, you hated that nickname. You could feel your blood boil at the mention of it. Your father had called you that when you were a kid, and certain crew members let it take on a meaning of its own; one that painted a much less kind image of you. Marco never meant it maliciously, but the name still made you angry regardless of who said it. 

“And what if the Princess pursued the commander?” you hissed, throwing venom into your words. “Then what?”

Marco shrugged, leaning back up against the wall. He pointed a thumb at the door and gave you a slight smirk. “Guess we’ll have to find out together.”

You didn’t respond to him. You were too worried to come up with any more witty responses. So you paced back and forth again, fiddling with your fingers. Waiting. 

After an eternity, the door creaked open. Your eyes quickly found Ace’s dark ones, lit up with mischievous glee. A smile spread across his face as he walked toward you, ignoring your glare.

“What is wrong with you?” you hissed. “Why did you do that?!”

“So I could do this!” He wrapped you in his arms and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, bringing an instant blush to your cheeks.

“Gross!” Marco called out, startling you both. You had forgotten he was there. “No more of that please!”

You stuck your tongue out at Marco, but Ace gave you a big kiss on your cheek, causing you to shriek and erupt into a fit of giggles. 

“Great,” Marco scoffed, but there was a smile on his lips. “This ought to end well.”

“It will!”

And it could have. It really could have.

--

Part one is complete!

What Now?

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[obriengf]

Hello 21 : with Joel please 🤩🤩

get cute with meet-ugly blurbs - requests open! 21: "I didn’t know my ex moved so you find me sitting on the floor in front of your apartment door"

UNEXPECTED STRANGER

You could feel the mascara drying; and slight irritation to your skin as the previously running liquid itched over your cheekbones. It was uncomfortable, but not as much as the ache cultivating in your tailbone as you sat cross-legged on the cold floor, your knees pulled under your chin and arms secured for dear life as they clung around them. It was hard to control the trembling in your fist after minutes of banging against a door that housed temporary emptiness, and a lack of specific presence that you had come searching for in the first place. Instead, the fist was tucked against your curled frame as exhaustion devoured you, and thoughts from all regions ran aimlessly in your mind. Regret began to take up occupancy in the pit of your gut - it was stupid impulse that led you to this door, and the recognition had just started to come to light. But you were too defeated to move. He had worn you down, and he wasn't even here. Echoes of rubber soles clapped as they climbed the close stairwell, the sound reverberating its way toward you at the end of the fourth-floor hallway. It caused your ears to perk, but the lack of motivation to even raise your head kept you in a stiffened position until you heard a voice. "Uh... can I help you?"

It was a voice unknown, writhed with confusion and uncertainty, complemented with hidden notes of worry. It prompted you to jump despite knowing that those rubber soles were only mere feet in front of you now. It was slow as you raised your head; your body sinking in as if you'd been scolded, even though you were simply asked a question of unsureness.

You were met with doe eyes of brown, large as they widened in shock at your flustered face and smudged makeup. You sniffled once as your eyebrow furrowed, head tilting to the side, "What?"

The man before you shuffled in discomfort, his hand pulling at the bag strap that guarded his right shoulder as he hiked it back up. It was his turn to stare with furrowed brows and even more perplexity, "I - You're blocking my door. Why..." The man began, clearing his throat as he tried to compose a sentence that didn't consist of agitation, but failed, "What do you want?"

"Your door - ?"

"What - Yes, yes my door. You're blocking it, and I want to get inside. Can you just move?" He was growing impatient as he huffed, his tone blunt and precise. You glanced around the empty space surrounding you both, trying to decipher if you got the apartment number wrong. No, you thought. You instantly recognised that overgrown pot plant in front of the apartment two doors down, and the annoying flickering bulb of the fourth downlight. You were in the right place, but something was off.

Your lips pursed as a rouse to stop them from quivering, an uneasy feeling settling within you, "Doesn't Tim Baxter live here?"

The man barely chuckled in disbelief under his breath as his head shook, chocolate mops of hair swaying with him. He bit the inside of his cheek, "Uh no, I live here. Have been for about a week and a half now. Got no idea who that guy is. Sorry."

Your chest panged as if a wound had reopened, pieces of your puzzle falling into place and connecting the dots that you didn't want to see coming. A week and a half. It was about the time he stopped answering your calls. After attempts at trying to speak to him, you gave up a losing battle and decided to take on the dragon face-to-face. But he had fled. All traces were wiped, and the treasure that the dragon was in possession of would never be recovered by you.

You willed the tears to stay still - too many had been shed over your heartbreak already today, and he didn't deserve any more. You nodded slightly as you pushed yourself to stand, legs wobbly from your cramped seated position and you swayed apprehensively. A hand reached out to find even the smallest surface to support bowing stability, but it was the mystery man who managed to hold you upright as one hand carefully grasped your bicep, and the other pressed just above your waist.

The man hummed, concern intertwining with his words as he gave you a respective once-over, "How long have you been sitting out here?"

You could hardly recall. Your body and mind were overtaken by anger for the previous tenant, checking the time was the last thing on your to-do list. Considerations began to flow, and you took a much-needed deep breath to rejuvenate your crushed lungs.

"A couple of hours." Your response was quiet and embarrassed, but the man just gave a tight-lipped smile as if he was milking every ounce of sympathy that he could muster. Pathetic could be used to describe how you found yourself here, or you could easily settle for silly, probably even piteous and just call it a day. You huffed out a laugh with an absence of hilarity, "This is so stupid, I'm sorry. My ex lived here, and he had something important to me, and the bastard would never pick up his damn phone and I -"

"Hey... hey, it's okay." Soothing tones brought you back down from a rambling tongue, seconds away from disclosing information that a stranger certainly didn't need to hear. Fingers flexed against your frame and it was oddly appeasing to your exaggerated facility, despite the owner absentmindedly performing it.

It was epitomised tunnel vision the moment you peered at him; he absorbed your focus like a sponge to water, his eyes much warmer up close as they swirled with caramelised hues and harmonised with the sweetest of genuine smiles. Your heart began to thump again and you begged that he couldn't hear how much this proximity was affecting you.

"I'm so sorry for... this. You must think I'm a fucking mess." You sighed. With small retreating steps, you returned to a proper stance and only left behind a hand thrown in his direction. You licked quickly at your drying lips, "I'm Y/N, by the way."

He seemed pleased with your approach at an old-fashioned introduction as he allowed his hand to slip into yours, applying slight pressure as he shook it, "Joel."

Joel didn't use to take risks. He was placid, somewhat content with how things went. He kept a routine more out of convenience than want. And yet, here he was standing in front of a girl who looked broken, considering offering kindness to make her feel even the littlest bit better. He was familiar with the ache that lived in hearts and turned souls into dreary heaps; lost loves and exes that caused feelings of insignificance. But when he looked at you, he saw redemption and light begging to break through the darkness bestowed upon you.

"Do you... you can totally say no, by the way, but I was you know, thinking... I was gonna order like Chinese take out or something... and put on a movie, or whatever... if you have nowhere to be - "

"Are you inviting me inside?" You cut through his tangent with a hint of amusement, head tipping to the left as your lips ghosted a curl at the corners.

His eyes remained glued to you, even through his ability to slip in his keys and unlock the door by touch alone. Joel bit his bottom lip as a sparkle settled in his gaze, "It depends, have you ever killed someone before?"

"What? No! Of course not!" Your exclaim was loud before it was muffled by your hand, its purpose to keep in the laughter that followed with utter joyousness. "Why would you ask that?"

Joel couldn't hold back his smile as it graced this now friendly scene, its intention to recapture happiness. His teeth were on display as the button of his nose scrunched, complementing small creases beside his eyes, "I'd like to know beforehand just who I'm letting into my apartment."

"Uh-huh, and what if I had? As if anyone would actually admit to that." Playing along was easy as if these battles had been fought before, a comfortable settle between strangers.

"I like giving people the benefit of the doubt, okay?"

His laugh sealed the deal. It was as if you didn't need to question any authenticity, that Joel, your accidental run-in, had already become a safety net in the few minutes since you had known him. That fate was something that existed.

Joel turned around as he nearly made his way through the door, his hand keeping the heavy wood open for you. His eyebrow raised, "So, you coming, or what?"

[theapangea]

Kiss Me

Pairing/Characters: Jay Kelso x Reader, Gwen, Ozzie

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Jay offers to be your first kiss.

Warning: None

A/N: First fic with Jay Kelso!!! Seriously so exciting to start writing for him. My request are always open if you want more!! Sorry if there are any typos!!!

*Also posted on AO3: theapangea*

The loud bang of the door shutting behind you was definitely not ignored by anyone in the basement. Your body plopping onto the couch, the audible groan escaping your lips as the trio look between each other, contemplating who should say something.

Huffing while lowering the magazine he was holding, “Is this the part I’m supposed to ask what is wrong?” Ozzie’s voice says to your left.

Your eyes scan the ceiling, head tilting towards him before answering, “Yes.” The whine in your tone was soft, even making your own heart break a little.

Gwen makes her way to you, her body pushing the rough fabric down, her arm resting on the back of the couch, “What’s up?” 

“I have a date with Tommy Horn tomorrow.” The whine is still noticeable. The room losing tension at your not-so-serious dilemma.

“Hey good for you” Her smile is radiant, stroking her fingers through your hair.

“No.” You sit up quickly, your whole body turning towards her, “Not good for me.” Your hands doing the speaking for you before lifting yourself off the sunken spot, heading over to the cooler. 

“Why?” Jay follows you.

Lifting the cooler door open, grabbing your favorite flavor of popsicle and handing him a grape one.

You sign, not wanting to tell him your real reason for not wanting to go on this date. Sure Tommy Horn is super cute and you can’t believe he asked you out. But there is one thing about him-

“Tommy always kisses on the first date.” Gwen teases.

There it is. You shut your eyes, hoping that this whole situation goes away but when you open them again you see them all staring at you. Great. Your shoulders slump as you lean against the cooler. Feeling the cool box through your denim shorts.

“So…” Jay still not seeing the problem, taking a taste of his popsicle.

It’s so cute when he’s oblivious you thought.

Rubbing your hand on the back of your neck as you begin to mumble some inaudible words.

Jay leans closer to you, “Yep, caught none of that.” He says before holding the popsicle in his mouth as he lifts himself onto the cooler.

“I'VE NEVER KISSED ANYONE BEFORE, OKAY?” You basically shout, “Don’t laugh Jay.,” you plead, catching him before he could, your pointer finger on his lips. Feeling the hot breath escaping through the open part.

Then there’s Ozzie. His laugh echoing through the basement, probably even the whole house. The embarrassment floods through your body.

Gwen stands up, “On my god, we are leaving since you can’t behave.” She grabs him by the arm practically dragging him out of the basement before he can object.

The tragic walk of shame back to the couch as you and Jay are now the only occupants of the basement. 

“Wait, you seriously haven’t kissed anyone before.” You shake your head no at his comment as you sit down, silently wishing the couch would engulf your entire body.

Hopping off of the cooler, saying, ‘What about Daniel Peter’s party in 7th grade? Didn’t you kiss him?” He tries to recall, his popsicle almost gone.

“I chickened out while I was in the closet with him. We promised each other that we would lie since neither of us have had our first kiss yet.” You confess, still holding onto the melting popsicle in your hands.

You name softly rolling off his tongue, “It’s been almost 5 years and you still haven’t had it yet?” His analysis is deafening. 

And that’s when the idea hit him. He wasn’t sure if it was actually a good plan or not, he can’t really tell when one of his ideas is. “Kiss me.” 

“Jay Kelso say what?” His tone is so casual you almost didn’t believe what just came out of his mouth.

“Kiss me and I’ll tell you if you’re good or not.” You can’t help but look anywhere but his face, “So like you know what to do on your date.” He stumbles on his words. Did he finally realize what he said to you? Was the tension in the room making him nervous?

“I really don’t think I can do that.” You try to focus on the tv, wishing the volume would drown out this conversation.

“Why not?” He brings his leg onto the couch, his arm hanging on the back, his grape popsicle slowly being forgotten about.

You laugh, forcing any sort of embarrassment away, “What if you end up falling completely in love with me? Then what?” Crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m like 99% sure that won’t happen.”

“But that 1% seems a little too big for me.” You quickly counter.

“Seriously, get over here and kiss me right now.” His demanding tone sends a shiver down your spine. 

Your heart rate increases by the second as you breathe out. Taking a gulp before moving closer to him.

Situating yourself in front of him. “Ok so like how should this go, like you go left and I go right, or is that the same way for the both of us. Or maybe we both go left?” You start to ramble on.

“Just be quiet and close your eyes.” His voice is steady. Placing his hand on your thigh making you shut up instantly, his thumb ever so slightly rubbing circles on your bare skin. The goose bumps on your legs becoming prominent. 

You take a deep breath before closing your eyes. 

Waiting.

You can feel him move on the couch, his other hand placed gently on your cheek, pulling you toward him. His lips brushing against yours as your breaths become one. The sweet taste of grape popsicles swirling through your mouth. The kiss was soft and meaningful with every last second. Leaning into the warmth of the kiss.

And then it’s over. Your lips suddenly lost without him.

Your heart rate is still high as you never wanted it to end. Was that supposed to be how every kiss felt? Cosmic, breathless, absolutely unbelievably out of this world?

Gaining the courage to open one eye before asking, “Did you fall madly in love with me?” 

He ponders your question. “I think I'm fine.” He smiles before settling back into the couch, his mind resting on the tv as he reaches for the remote to turn it up.

His demeanor was so casual and normal. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking and how this whole kiss thing didn’t affect him. You can’t help but be completely intoxicated with the taste of him. Realizing now that you were actually the one falling in love with Jay Kelso.

~~~~~~

Let me know what you think!! <3

[eternaltae7]

Hani becoming Fox

Fox of BTS | BTS 8th Member

The day had finally arrived for BTS to decide on their stage names, and the energy in the practice room was electric. The familiar sounds of laughter and playful banter echoed off the walls, creating a warm atmosphere filled with camaraderie. Namjoon and Yoongi had their stage names locked down long before Hani joined the group, but now it was her turn, along with the rest of the members.

“Alright, let’s hear some ideas!” Jin declared, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a playful smile on his face. His enthusiasm was infectious, setting the tone for the session.

“I was thinking about going with something really cool, but I just can’t decide,” Jimin said, laughing as he tossed his head back, his hair bouncing with the motion. He shrugged, glancing around the room for approval.

Taehyung, always one to stand out, announced, “I’ll go with ‘V’! It’s mysterious and cool!” He struck a pose, eliciting a chorus of cheers and laughter from the others.

With the first few names decided, the conversation shifted back to Hani. She felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on her, a flutter of nerves rising in her stomach.

“Have you thought about what you want, Hani?” Namjoon asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. He leaned forward, giving her his full attention.

“I’ve been thinking about it, but nothing feels quite right,” she admitted, her auburn hair catching the light as she tucked it behind her ear. The warmth of the room matched the warmth in her heart, but doubt crept in as she searched for the right words.

Yoongi, who had been quietly observing, suddenly spoke up. “You know, you have that fiery vibe about you, like a fox. What do you think about the name ‘Fox’?” His deep voice had a casual, yet thoughtful tone.

The room fell silent as everyone considered the suggestion. Hani’s heart raced at the thought of being associated with such a strong and clever creature. She had always loved the animal, how they were playful yet mysterious, much like her personality.

“Fox, I like it,” she replied, feeling a spark of excitement flicker to life inside her. “It’s cute but has an edge to it.” She glanced at the others, searching their faces for reactions.

Bang PD, who had been listening from the corner of the room, nodded enthusiastically. “I think it fits you perfectly. The color of your hair and your playful spirit ”it’s a great match.” He crossed his arms, leaning back with a satisfied smile.

Jin chimed in, “And it’s short and easy to remember. Plus, it’s unique!” His encouragement was like a warm embrace, bolstering her confidence.

“I can already picture the fans calling you ‘Fox’,” Jimin said, his eyes shining with excitement. “It’s catchy!”

Taehyung grinned, leaning in closer. “You do have that fox-like charm. It’s settled, then! You’re our ‘Fox!’” The enthusiasm in the room was palpable, each member beaming at her.

Hani’s heart swelled with joy as the other members rallied around her, fully embracing her choice. It felt wonderful to have their support, and for the first time, she felt like she truly belonged. She had always been the only girl in their training environment, and now, as part of BTS, she was becoming part of a family.

“Alright, Fox it is!” Namjoon declared, raising his hand for a high-five, which Hani happily reciprocated. The moment felt monumental, a rite of passage marking her entry into the world of K-pop.

As they continued discussing stage names, the room was filled with laughter and playful teasing. Jin pretended to act like a fox, playfully prancing around the room, and the others joined in, creating a light-hearted atmosphere. Hani couldn’t help but laugh along, the weight of her initial nerves lifting with each passing moment.

“You know what? We should do a photoshoot with you as Fox, like with some cute fox props,” Hobi suggested, his eyes twinkling with mischief. The idea sparked a flurry of creativity, and soon they were brainstorming outfits and poses, each member contributing their thoughts.

Later that day, after their practice session, Hani found herself in the quiet of her room, reflecting on the name she had just chosen. ‘Fox’ was more than just a title; it represented a part of her personality, her heritage, and the new journey she was embarking on with BTS. It resonated deeply with her, connecting her Irish roots to her Korean identity.

As she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t help but smile. The warm auburn hue of her hair glinted under the light, and she felt a sense of empowerment wash over her. With her new name, Hani was ready to step into the spotlight as Fox, and with her family by her side, she knew she could conquer anything that came her way.

That night, as she drifted off to sleep, the last thought in her mind was a whisper of excitement: tomorrow, the world would know her as Fox.

[agusrkive]

Peaches & Levi

"I fell in love with an emo zombie boy"

In which a girl named Peaches, who lives in mystic falls meets her emo neighbor who happens to be a zombie and falls in love with him despite their.. music differences?

Peaches POV

We have been neighbors for almost six years. Levi, yes that annoying prick who loves the smiths and I love the smiths too! I liked them first by the way. Levi is a zombie, an emo zombie.. not that I have anything against emos. I just think that maybe he should listen to other music rather than that genre.

(Flashback to when I first met him at the elevator of my apartment)

It was only seven am when I decided to go out to buy some food for my cat Ozzy, well that cat could surely whine. grabbing my purse, I went out the door and made a run for the almost-closing metal doors of the elevator. Good thing I managed to stop it from closing by stepping half of my foot in. now, here I am panting inside the elevator while fanning myself as I feel sweaty and tired. Then I heard something.

the faint sound of bass and the melody that I could recognize anywhere echoes in the small space of the elevator. my ears suddenly perked up to the familiar sound, involuntarily; my mouth forming the words by themselves.

"I love the smiths." I blurted out without even sparing a glance at the person beside me.

I felt eyes on me and I whipped my head around to face whoever is it. my breath hitches, I was met with a pair of dark gray orbs. fuck, he's so beautiful. a raven hair with a slick undercut and a bloody axe on his head. blood dripping down his now half-plugged headphones as I see him try to make up the words I just said to him.

"I said I love the smiths." I repeated

I gasped loudly when I heard him say the words.

"Who?" He let out a throaty groan and with furrowed eyebrows he turned his whole body towards me.

Unbelievable. I wanted to scream out loud and say, Im in the elevator with a zombie who is listening to the smiths but doesn’t know who the smiths are!

I never thought zombies would be this disappointing!

Well, he sure is lucky that he is cute.

(end of flashback)

many years have passed ever since our first encounter and that memory is still vivid in my mind. After our first meeting, I remember how eager I was in hopes of seeing him every day. I guess you could say, I developed a crush on the zombie boy who blasts blink - 182 tunes as early as 5 am. We then got closer by exchanging cassette tapes with each other. I lend him my radiohead tapes while he lends me his fall out boy tapes. It became a very consistent routine for the two of us.

One day, it just felt as if something has shifted. I would always catch myself holding my breath whenever he’s near me and I’d catch him steaIing glances at me too. The prominent sound of my heartbeat banging on my chest every time I would look at him as if he’s an aphrodisiac descendant which I really believe he is.

Then I realized, I’m in love with the emo zombie boy. and a drop-dead gorgeous one.

[sheikahwarriork]

finished season 5 but im gonna talk about season 4 first:

what the fuck happened in season 4? not in the sense "wtf im confused" but in the sense i sincerely cant remember what the hell happened. i finished it like 4 days ago. it's all blurried in my head lmao

-> ok according to wikipedia it was about how they could escape the praimfaya and now I REMEMBER i was ANGRY all the time

it was very frustrating seeing the people coming up with a solution, just for the solution to be destroyed 2 seconds later. NOTHING went WELL when IT COULD

i dont care about gaia. yeah sorry. she could not exist and i wouldnt notice

rip roan i guess. wasted potential

im sorry to say i didnt care about luna either. i thought her character would be better written but OH WELL CANT HAVE SHIT IN THIS SERIE

im so glad jaha died. another headache source gone <3

gotta be honest i respect jasper's whole thing. he desperately wanted to die since the end of season 2, but he found a way to go as he liked. 10/10 character

im not a doctor but im not sure raven could have survived that weird therapy thing she did to herself while listeing to becca and sinclair's voices

anyway that part about raven was very cool because it was *her* talking to herself in the end, and all those things "sinclair" said were actually from raven. shes officially babygirl

that ilian character was so funny. i mean *he* was not funny. i didnt give a shit about him. but octavia banging him was funny

john murphy keeps being the top tier funniest character ever. also hes super cute with emori. what could possibly go wrong?

bellamy is very weird. one season hes smart and doesnt deserve to die, the other season hes the dumbest bitch alive and i want him to explode. like a sinusoid

marcus kane deserves some rest from this serie

THEY WENT UP TO THE SKY???

when raven & co. decided to go to space to escape the disaster i thought "well monty and harper are a couple... murphy and emori are one too.... bellamy and echo 100% are going to fuck (obvious since they met on the cages in mount weather), so that leaves.... CLARKE AND RAVEN!!! MAY THEY HAVE GAYSEX DESPITE FINN'S MEMORY" but nope. clarke remained on the ground. crazy how this serie refuses to realize my ancient thought about clarke and raven getting together to spite finn

about season 5:

i'm surprised myself to say i actually enjoyed season 5?? like it didnt give me headaches!!! i think it is WELL written (crazy i know), best season so far

yes the characters still did questionable things but all their decision were COHERENT. abby taking the pills, octavia being a dispotic ruler, kane allying with diyoza for peace... even the new characters, such as diyoza and mccreary, were well written!!!

FINALLY clarke is a good character. i enjoy her much more now that she has her daughter/little sister to care about. im gonna be honest: when she used to say "im doing it for my people!!!" i hated it bc it felt like hypocrisy, she didnt care about *those people*, she cared about the ideal of humanity surviving. her methods are still the same, but i respect her now, bc with madi i CAN SEE why she's willing to kill a lot of people to save her daughter

bellamy too is a good character now. those 6 years did good to everyone

octavia's character is good too, even if she did a lot of dumb things!! (such as setting of fire the hydrofarm)

LMAO CANNIBALISM.

ohhh bellamy and echo gpt together. what a surprise.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN MURPHY FOUGHT WITH EVERYONE AND BROKE UP WITH EMORI DURING THE SIX YEARS??? i am very sad

raven falling for that guy (dont remember his name) is a bit out of the blue but tbh she deserves to get laid. i think the last time she had sex was with bellamy in season 1? lmao. so its fine

marcus kane still makes me Feel Things

indra good character

didnt quite get madi's character tbh. lets see

mccreary blowing up the planet for the third (4th? lost count) time in a century gave me a little of headache but its ok bc i understood him (dumb but WELL WRITTEN)

so they got on that spaceship for 10 years ok

wait nope monty and harper decided to stay awake and HAD A SON??? ok i guess

i actually respect a lot their decision. monty 10/10 character. im sad he will no longer be in the serie but im not mad hes dead (like i was for lexa and lincoln)

also super healthy couple. monty and harper were alone for like 50 years and didnt go crazy. 10/10 relationship

marcus kane keeps being unable to die. love to see this

btw i'm watching the 100 for the first time in my life but i remember the hype on the internet in like 2015 about this serie

i have Thoughts (just started 3rd season so this is about seasons 1 and 2)

everyone is fucking stupid. like really really stupid. i cant believe humanity survived for 97 years

clarke is smart but also very very stupid. why is a 17 yo in charge

raven is smart, not too stupid. i forgive her

john murphy is the funniest character ever

i remembered there was lesbians but i didnt know who the lesbians were. at first i thought they were clarke and raven bc they fight over a white boy so i thought i would be funny if they were The Lesbians

lexa can step on me

its cool lexa is canonically bi but i cant believe she fell for clarke. lexa deserves better. clarke is too stupid for her

the grounders are RIGHT. they are FUCKING RIGHT. SINCE EPISODE 1. they are NOT stupid

i called finn "white boy" during all the serie. he's such a white boy. he's very very stupid. i'm glad he died and i hated when the sky people wanted to save him from the execution bc THE GROUNDERS WERE RIGHT HE HAD TO DIE. he killed 18 FUCKING DEFENSELESS ELDERS AND CHILDREN

i miss anya. she was such a badass. clarke: "nuuuh i need a sharp and sterile knife-" anya proceeds to BIT HER OWN ARM to get the chip out. 10/10 character

about the mountain weather arc: oh my god they are so stupid. mountain people are so stupid i mean. "ohh we need sky people's bone marrow so we can survive but theres only 47 of them so in order to take all the bone marrow for us they have to die" you know how they could handle this shit?? by fucking ASKING. they KNEW there were other sky people on the ground now. like at least 100 of them i think. so they should have gone to them and say, "hi sorry we are humans who have to live underground bc radiations. but your bone marrow could save us. so can all of you give us a bit of your bone marrow? we offer an alliance and other commodities (medicines etc)". imo sky people would say YES bc bone marrow grows back its not too dangerous to donate it if its just a bit. everybody would be alive by now. and i wouldnt have got a headache

still about mountain weather arc: another way to handle that would have been: asking the 47 kids a bit of their bone marrow and WAITING it to grow back. like donators in real life yk? by 2 years all of the mountain people could have gone on the surface and everybody would be alive now and i wouldnt have got a headache

marcus kane is also a very funny character. hes desperately trying to die since they flowed those 320 people on the arc. and i LOVE he CANT die. everytime he's like "omg finally im going to die" and someone saves him. im sure as soon as he thinks "ok maybe being alive is not so bad" he gets shot

mountain weather arc is truly the most stupid thing that every happened in a tv show. they chose the worst possible way to handle the problem. they acted more stupidly than the kids in season 1. i really cant believe humanity survived for 97 years

the "100" on the spaceship were NEVER exactly one hundred. bc bellamy got inside so they were 101. but during the landing 2 kids died. so they were 99. there is not a single moment in this serie called "the 100" were they are one hundred. this fact is driving me crazy

i truly hope everyone dies bc i hate almost all of them. the only people that imo are allowed to survive are: octavia, jasper, monty, raven, murphy, kane (bc its funny he cant die), and all of the grounders. other peoples are too stupid to live so i hope they die soon so i dont get other headaches (edit: bellamy is on thin ice bc hes funny but hes also very much stupid)

i cant believe mountain weather arc. oh my god it was so stupid

[holdmytesseract]

Because we all love protective dad!Loki... Here, have a small drabble. 😁 The idea just came into my mind and I thought it would be very sweet - and funny. 😊

Ella

"Alright, guys! Are we ready to go?" Tony's voice echoed over the landing place of the Quinjet. He was dressed in his suit, ready for the upcoming mission. When he reached the small group of Avengers, which were going to join him, he started to frown - what nobody else could see, of course. Tony had counted three people, not four. Clint was there, alongside Scott and Peter, but yes... Somebody was missing. The billionaire rolled annoyed his eyes. "Where's Reindeer Games?" Clint shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I didn't see him this morning." The other agreed. "Me too, Mr. Stark." "No idea." An annoyed groan left Tony's lips. "Thumbelina, Spider-Boy, go get him, please. Thank you." With those words he marched to the Quinjet, Clint following him. "Come on, Peter." Scott and Peter made their way back inside the compound and towards the apartment of Loki and Y/N. Scott knocked. Gently at first, but when he got no answer, he banged his fist harder against the door. "Loki?! Where are you?! We are all waiting for-" Lang got cut off, as the door in front of him got ripped open. "Shhh!" Loki hissed at the men in front of him aggressively. He was wearing nothing but grey sweatpants, hanging low on his hips. Loki's raven hair was tugged back behind his ears, revealing his sharp cheekbones and jawline. The reason why he was shirtless? He had cradled Ella - his three-month-old daughter against his chest. The baby girl wore a pink onesie, her chubby legs neatly pressed against her father's ribcage. Ella's small palms rested on Loki's pec's, holding on for dear life, as she slept peacefully. Now and then a few coos left her tiny lips. The God had one hand underneath her bottom, the other was supporting her head - on which were tufts of black, curly hair. Clearly her father's. "Ella has just fallen asleep, after hours of whimpering and crying - and then you two pathetic wannabe insects decide to almost break down the door! What do you want?!" Loki was clearly not amused. Both, Scott and Peter swallowed, didn't expect this to happen. "T-Tony sent us to, uh, look where you are, b-because of the mission-" Loki cut off Scott again, didn't let him finish his sentence. "I don't care about that stupid mission. Y/N didn't sleep properly for the last two nights. She is nurturing our baby and if she wants to continue that, she needs to rest. Meaning, I am on dad duty today - which is, by far more important than rescuing cats from trees. Now if you would excuse me? I have a baby to tend to." Before Scott or Peter could answer anything, the door got slammed (gently) shut in front of their faces.

To hear her father's rather loud voice, ripped Ella almost from her deep slumber, a few soft whines leaving her lips, as she rubbed her cheek against Loki's warm chest, on search for body contact. "Shh, baby girl. Everything's okay... Just two mortals being idiots." He rocked her gently, while making his way back towards the sofa. "Lokes?" A sleepy voice called behind him. The God spun around and saw Y/N standing in the doorway to their bedroom in her cute pyjama, rubbing her eyes. His heart clenched at the sight. Norns, how much he loved that woman. "Everythin' okay? I heard voices..." He quickly walked over to her, nodding. "Of course, darling." Loki pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. "N' Ella? She okay?" "Yes, love. Go back to sleep. I've got her." Y/N smiled tiredly. "Okay." With another kiss - this time on her lips, Loki sent his wife back to bed. Then he settled on the sofa, with his daughter, who was awake again, probably because she heard her mama's voice. He placed the infant on his chest with both hands on her back to steady her and keeping her from falling. "Therefore that mama is back asleep, what are we two going to do now, Princess? Taking a nap as well?" He spoke softly to the baby. Ella looked up at her father, big blue eyes meeting his, sending a wave of love and happiness through the God. Yes... This was the happiest he had ever been.

Tagging: @lokisgoodgirlbackup @lovingchoices14 @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @acefeather2002

(If you want to be added to one of my Taglists, let me know! :D)

[whumpinggrounds]

No One To Help You But Yourself

CW: captured, hero whumper, villain whumpee, beating, broken ribs, blood, self done first aid, inaccurate medical treatment (binding said broken ribs)

It’s dark, when the villain comes to, and it smells like earth. It takes time to figure out where they are, and why they’re there, but they have time. They have time to gather themselves, to piece together the broken shards of memory and the ache rooted deep under their scalp.

There was a chase. And then a battle. The villain, low on resources, ran as long as they could, then took a stand.

And, unsurprisingly, they lost.

It had been that big guy, the one built like a brick house. He’d had a slender figure with him, the one that played leader when the two were out together. Together, they’d worked absolutely seamlessly, and even the villain had to admire how perfect they were as a team.

Too bad the big guy was such a colossal asshole.

Well, the villain amends, maybe his friend is an asshole too. After all, they have no memory of who stuck them in this dank basement, head throbbing, whole body composed of aches and bruises. They aren’t bound or gagged, which they suppose is a positive. No one seems to have hurt them while they were unconscious. It’s a privilege that apparently, isn’t always afforded to the kid that was ever-so-recently under their care.

The thought of the kid makes them glower. Suddenly, they’re feeling a lot less amused by the idea that they’ve been captured. Maybe this is a good time for them to seek some information of their own.

As if on cue, there’s a distant banging, growing closer as they listen. The villain remains sprawled on the floor where they must’ve been tossed. They’re not going to waste any energy pretending to be ready to attack or something like that. They’re exhausted and stripped of any usable weapon. They stretch out on the floor and wait for the threat to come to them.

It takes but a moment. Even in the dim, underground half-light, they recognize the gigantic figure of the kid’s mentor. Upon seeing his stony face, the villain finds they can’t resist a stupid joke.

“Oh, finally. Are you here to break me out?”

The hero’s eyes narrow into slits. “Very funny.”

“Mm.” The villain folds their hands behind their head. “You don’t seem amused.”

Their opponent grunts. “Been told I don’t have much of a sense of humor.”

“Well, that’s just too bad. Sense of humor is one of the first things I look for in my companions, personally.”

The big guy scowls. His little half-mask is cute. As if that’s going to keep his identity a secret when he has bright red hair and he’s maybe the tallest man the villain has ever seen. “I’m not your fucking companion.”

“What?” The villain is almost enjoying this now. “What’d you bring me back here for? Now my feelings are hurt.”

Unimpressed, the big guy fixes him with a glare. “You’re here so you can tell me what you did with all that fucking money.” He cracks his knuckles, and each snap echoes like a gunshot. “So, let’s start now.”

“Mm.” The villain nods, thoughtful. “I totally see why you’re interested in the money. I, myself, was pretty interested in the money. It’s why I took it in the first place.”

It’s too bad they’re still wearing their own mask because the hero is missing out on their most winning smile, aimed straight at him. It might do something to improve the absolutely furious expression on his face. Ah, well. They’re opening their mouth to say something else, undeniably clever and charming, but before they can say another word, the hero is cutting them off.

“I don’t want to stand around and listen to you chatter at me. I’m going to start asking questions, and you’re going to answer. Or else.”

The villain considers their options.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a very direct communication style? I’m really appreciating that about you.”

Pain lights up the villain’s side. It explodes out from their ribs, sending the breath from their lungs in a surprised whoosh. It’s been a long time since they’ve had to deal with this kind of specific, directed pain, and they can tell from the strength of the kick that they’re in for a lot worse.

“Wow.” Their voice comes out raspy, strained, but they’re unable to resist the temptation to make a snarky comment. “Anyone ever told you how strong you are?”

*

By the time the hero leaves, there’s something broken in the villain’s lower ribs. Every breath comes with effort, and a stabbing pain, deep in the lungs. They don’t know if the hero leaves because he’s bored, or he has something else to do, but he promises, in that low, furious voice of his, that he’ll be back.

And when he returns, it will be to show the villain what real pain is.

“Oh?” The words come far more labored. They’re sharper than the jokes the villain began with. “Like the kind you put your sidekick through?”

The hero pauses. One hand is on the doorknob already. He shakes his head. “No wonder you two get along. You’re both bleeding fucking hearts.”

The villain’s breathing is too harsh and hard to let them reply before the hero is gone. Not that they have much to say to that asshole, anyway. Just thinking about the kid makes them growl to themselves where they lie, half-sprawled on the floor.

But no one is going to help the kid if they bleed out in some crappy little basement hidey-hole. With a deep breath that sends a zinging twang through their chest, the villain hauls themselves upright. Stars dance in their vision, and bile rises in their throat, but they’re upright. It’s a start. They wait until they no longer feel like they’re going to vomit. Then, slowly, bruises protesting as they do, they peel off their shirt. Another pause, a necessary rest. Then to tear it into strips.

When their shirt is in ribbons, the villain takes their longest pause of all. Fingers clenching and unclenching against their thighs, they take a few deep breaths and gather their strength for what they’re about to have to do.

With fingers that are trembling just slightly, they wrap the first strip of cloth around their chest, hissing through their teeth as the fabric slides and presses against their broken ribs. When the first binding ribbon is in place, they squeeze their eyes shut, and pull hard.

The pain is blinding, breathtaking. The villain bends in half, sucking in harsh, panting breaths of air, fighting the urge to vomit. Their hands shake, but they don’t lose grip. Before they can lose their nerve, they knot the strip of fabric.

There. One tie, done. Only, what, a dozen more before their ribs are properly bound?

Just the thought of it makes an unwilling whimper leak between the villain’s lips. But it’s not like they have a choice. A hero put them here; there’s certainly no one coming to help them. Somewhere out there, that kid is counting on them, even if he doesn’t know it yet. But before they save anyone else, they’re going to have to save themselves.

Gritting their teeth, the villain picks up the next strip of fabric.

@whatwasmyprevioususername, @snowshower, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @whumpywritings, @princess-poopsicle, @junoswhumpdrawer

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

[plush-rabbit]

Aphrodisiac Induced Villains

Request: im obsessed with your aphro induced brothers !!! can i request the same scenario with the leave of villains + overhaul and chrono?

Word Count: 1K each

A/N: Sorry for it being so late!! I love aphrodisiac plots and I think I’ll never stop thinking about them. (esp moth shig and spinner during a heat)

-

Every breath is like water that fills his lungs, suffocating and one step closer to some hellish end. They aren’t usually so clumsy, so blindsided by rage. They’re tactical, able to evade heroes for as long as they live and yet- here they are, slumped over some alleyway, dirt sticking to their clothes and the noise of the outside so deafening that they can’t even hear their own blood rush in their ears. It’s horrific, even more so than anything they’ve ever endured in their life; this need to feel so cold and hot at once, their body so off putting that you’d think he’d shed his skin and become a new man simply because they are unable to think of anything coherent at that very moment.

Their hand cups over their face, bumping and squishing their nose and the scent of the damn quirk is still strong, still heavy against their body. It’s sweet like vanilla, and strong like peppermint, sticking to their skin and invading their body. His eyes flutter to a close, thinking of the scent that is consuming them, burning them from the inside. The sweet aroma that filtered out of the hero’s body like perfume. The way that their defenses dropped, how their mouth salivated, and the only thing on their mind was primal, something so animalistic that has now taken over. What type of fucking hero even has an aphrodisiac quirk? What good is it unless you want a bunch of salivating and aroused villains in your custody? The other hand clutches over where their heart should be, where they hold on so tightly to their shirt that they stretch the fabric and ruin it. His heart beats erratically, pounding and bruising their ribs, and this quirk truly is ruining them from the inside and out.

Slowly, their hand falls from their face, bumping into their other hand that falls from their chest and they rest heavy on the ground, weighing him down like anchors. He can’t think straight, not with this burning desire inside of him that makes it so impossible to think. With a groan, he stands from the floor, uncaring of the dirt and mess that has stuck on him, uncaring of how sweat falls and drips from their nose and chin. The only thing on his mind right now is to rid himself of this quirk, to ease the ache between his legs and stomach, to finally think straight. At this very moment, the only thing on his mind is to go to you, to stagger and kiss your lips and have his own desires just flood out of him.

Bubaigawara Jin:

There hasn’t been a time in his life where he hasn’t had to fought for survival. He’s been in desperate situations before. Clawed and fought his way through and for survival, for the sake of not only him, but for his sanity. He’s been through the worst of it all. He’s felt betrayal, felt blood rush and blind him as he stayed strapped to a chair, unable to even realize if he was real or not, and yet, it’s the aphrodisiac that makes Jin fall to his knees just before your door. He’s knocking rapidly against it, banging the end of his fists against your wooden door and your name is a godforsaken cry that tears through his throat. He can’t think of anything else but you at this very moment, to collapse onto you and rest his weary head on your shoulders. The only fear that courses through his body is the fear that you won’t answer the door. Jin is at your door, his erection bulging against his suit and every movement is sweet friction that his heart racing and blood rushing. You open the door to him and he does just as he pictured- he falls into your arms and holds you tight while he kicks the door close and pushes you further into your home.

When you bring him, your hands wrapped tightly around him, it doesn’t take much for the man to confess what happened. All the details told to you without question- the scent of the aphrodisiac, the strong sensation, the way that he feels so pulled apart and grounded all at once. He is a weak man at the very end of it, wanting nothing more than to bring you and him down to your knees, as he;s held in your arms. You pull him to your room, telling him to not worry as you’ll be here for him and he knows that you don’t know the severity of the aphrodisiac. The way that it pains him, how nothing is on his mind but the way that your lips look so cute when in a pout, the way the soft pink muscle flashes out to wet at your lips and he can only nod. The back of his knees hit the bed and your hands are coming up to his neck, peeling off the mask and he’s so drunk on lust, that he doesn’t even realize that the simple graze of your knuckles against his neck is enough for him to fall to his back on the bed.

Depravity is not the thing that ails him. It’s the burning desire to be by your side, to continue to feel your hand knits through his and the gentle way that you call his name. He can’t remember when his name was said with such adoration, and now, it just makes his cock throb and he’s thankful for wearing black or there'd be such an obvious stain on him. The bed creaks under his weight and the scent of you on the sheets is enough to replace the scent of vanilla and peppermint. It’s much sweeter, stronger and much more intoxicating. You reach over and your hand is curved over his forehead, the scar pressing against your palm and when you pull away, he grabs your wrist. He can’t be alone. Not right now. Not when his erection is aching and causing the worst pain that he’s ever felt. Everything is too much at this moment. Coming to you was a mistake, but it was the best mistake that he ever made. You’re the only thing keeping his grounded at this very moment.,

With your wrist in his hand, he pulls himself up, and pulls you closer to him, your knees bumping against the edge of the mattress and he pulls you down. His lips are on yours and it’s messy, spit slipping between the corners of the lips, his hands clawing and tugging off your clothes and he doesn’t have the patience to take off his. His bulge is pressed against your thigh, rocking back and forth. It’s a steady motion at first, something so sweet and slow that it leaves him groaning out your name filled by a lovely curse. Soon, everything becomes filthy. Heavy rocking motions that leaves him panting and drooling over your shoulder as his hands palm over your breasts and tease at your nipples and his face i flushed, a deep red that paints him in a heavenly glow and he’s begging for you to remove his suit, to touch him and kiss him. You cry underneath him, try to latch onto him for another kiss but his eyes are half lidded, his hips thrusting until he’s he’s crying your name and holding you close, his breathy moans echoed into your ear and it’s the sweetest thing when he looks at you, and his first thought is kiss you once more as he shudders above you.

Jin wonders how he must look to you. So desperate enough that you’d listen to him without another command. You’re quick to pull his clothes off, the black suit leaving nothing to the imagination already exposes his muscular body, but without it, he stands proud with a dark blush over him. He’s beside you, and his cock springs free, pre-arousal drooling onto your stomach as he rises above you. Sweat is already on his body, faded scars that curve around him and he’s toned, sharp and rugged while you are soft and everything nice. It makes his heightened arousal feel all that much filthier. He’s a gentleman no matter the situation, his lips on yours as he shares a passionate kiss with you, sucking on your pink tongue as he fingers at your hole and he’s so close to spilling when he hears you squeal and open your legs, stretching your hole to fit more of his thick fingers and he spills over your stomach in hot seed, painting you white. His fingers leave you and he can feel your hole flutter against the tip of his cock and it takes just a single push to bury himself inside of you, your back arching and hands clamping down on his biceps as you call his name. His smile is wide, charismatic and holds all the charm of the world as he ruts against you.

Dabi:

Dabi is burning, his body is hot and it’s absolute torture. His erection is pressed against the inside of his jeans and His body is hot and it’s not in the way that it is, so consuming so heavy, full of dread and he goes to you because in the end, he has you all to himself. The man who tries to hide all his emotions is breaking, ripping apart- figuratively- and he’s racing towards you, running and pleading to make it you and he’s knocking on your door, trying to fight the urge to seem so desperate and pathetic when you don’t answer. He can’t seem desperate, not when you’re so close, not now. He’s lasted for this long, he can last for just a few more seconds. The moon is high above him, and his clothes smell like vanilla and peppermint mixed with cheap alcohol and smoke and it makes his stomach churn and acid laced on his tongue. He knocks once more, his nails scratching at the door and he doesn’t beg, but the plea is so thick in your name, that he might as well be on his knees and ask for forgiveness if it meant you’d welcome him into your arms.

The door opens and half his face is shrouded in shadows and the other is illuminated by the dodgy street lamps in your neighborhood. You welcome him inside and he brushes your touch away and he’s never been so thankful before to wear a jacket. He isn’t sure how he would react to having you touch his bare skin, not when it's painful enough for him to touch himself. Concern is laced thick in your words and he shakes his head, trying to fend off your worry as goes to your bedroom. His straps are staggered, his hand on the wall as he walks to your room, and in the room, the scent of the aphrodisiac shifts into else- something more than the basic churning in his stomach and into him having to sit down and remove his jacket, the heat finally catching up to him. Your shadow stretches into the room and when he looks up, you’re already walking towards him, kneeling before him and grabbing his hands in yours. He isn’t sure how to tell you that he got hit by a quirk that’s making him lose his mind, that’s making him picture you dressed in nothing, and when your hand slips from his to cup gingerly at his jaw, he leans into your touch. It takes nothing more than for you to call his name, a soft whisper that he can barely hear through his beating heart that echoes and pounds in his ears, to confess what it is that's making him act in such a way. It’s embarrassing for him. He doesn’t want your worry, he doesn’t want your gentle touches and the way that you coo his name. He can’t stand how you sit beside him and refuse to leave him. It's making him feverish and you gently nudge his face so he’s looking at you.

Even looking at you proves to be too much. It’s too hard for him- his erection pulsing in his pants, the lack of air in his lungs, and his mind so foggy that the only thing he can do is stare at your lips that move in soundless words. He can’t focus. Not one bit, not with the quirk and you being so prevalent in him when he’s this close to you. There is nothing he can do but to kiss you. His lips meld against yours, his hands twisting into the shirt and staining the fabric with his hands, and he keeps you close, not wanting to pull air for air even if his lungs really are starting to burn. You’re so close to him, so soft and delicate under his touch and he’s lowering himself, bowing before you just to kiss your lips. You’re beside him, the bed dipping under his weight and you’re just here with him, so real and touchable, he can’t help but rush to touch you.

Clothes are removed, limbs entangled and knees bumping into each other. It’s sloppy and rushed, and it’s enough for him to climax and leave his thighs in white and dark purple and peach. His hands hold onto your body, never once leaving your body without his touch. His body burns and there’s a stinging pain in his abdomen, and he isn’t sure if it’s the aphrodisiac or his quirk that’s making him so feverish. Your hand wraps around his cock, massaging at his balls and slipping upwards to the base. Your thumb slides the arousal down, slicking it around his cock until he’s pleading in your ear to touch him. Everything is just too much- there’s too much emotion that is bubbling inside for him to even fathom, the sensations making his head spin, and the taste of you fading from his tongue. He wants you, he wants you in a way that is dependent and obsessive. Ever so needy, he’s kissing you harshly, sucking on your bottom lip and orgasming from a simple handjob. He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes half lidded as he nudges you with his shoulder, falling into his back, his cock still erect and bubbling with semen that drips off of him in shining pearls. He’s naked on your bed, his climax strong and enough for the lights to blind him and he can’t think of anything else when you climb above him.

You run your hands against a trail of staples, and it’s enough to make goosebumps appear over his body as you lower yourself onto him. His entire body is sensitive and sex fills the room and he can taste just how sweet you are, and he’s deep inside of you. He smiles sweetly, and you feel so good on him, so nice and soft, and he’s swiveling his own hips, aching to feel you deeper and deeper. His climax is flush, his body burning and hands reaching for your thighs, holding you close to him. When you lean down, he captures your lips in a kiss, smiling against you. Dabi’s own climax is burning against his skin, his scars tingling under your touch and your lips pressed against his jaw and his eyes are wide, his hands clawing around you and he pushes himself deeper, and even with you on top, he’s doing the work. Deprived of everything sweet and overflowing with bitterness, he can’t help but keep you close to him. Scarred and muscular, his arms wrapped around you and keeping you close to his chest, as he just soaks his cock in you. There is nothing but pain that feels, and yet, he feels all of you, so warm and soft compared to him.

Iguchi Shuichi:

With the aphrodisiac settling inside of him, he rushes towards you, eager and fearful of all the arousal that is bubbling and consuming him. Shuichi is running through the night, his legs sore and muscles begging for rest, but he can’t stop, not until he’s by your side, not until he’s safely nestled in your arms. The burning desire inside of him is making his lungs burn, more so than all the running he did. It’s a chill that enters him and makes every breath sharp, a chill that runs through his body. He stands in front of your door, and he’s catching his breath, hands on his knees as he breathes in and out, his claws digging into his knees and when he stands, he’s already knocking at your door. He’s shakily grabbing and jiggling at the handle as he calls your name in a hushed whisper. There isn’t much that he can say other than he needs you to open the door, quickly, before someone other than you sees him in such a shameful state.

There’s many advantages to having a mutation quirk- especially one that’s a variant of an animal, and that is that most, if not all, your senses are heightened. He can hear your careful steps before he can see your shadow between the door and the floor. He can faintly smell your dinner, the sound of the television in the background and he can smell you, something mixing with the aphrodisiac until it’s just you at the very end of it. You’re the one filling his lung with the shape and painful scent, replacing the vanilla and peppermint, something so thick and wonderful gone in just a simple breath, only to be replaced by you. The effects of the aphrodisiac are still in effect when you open the door and they're heightened even more. You stand in front of him, the light illuminating you in a heavenly glow and with worry creasing your features and he’s the one to take the first step and lean into you.

It’s the gentle look that you give him, his name on the tip of your tongue, and already so weak, he falls into you, letting you hold him as you struggle to close the door and he’s little more than dead weight against you. His hand already having snuck to cup his sex in an attempt to avoid having you feel it, but the pressure is more than enough for him to hiss. You ask what’s wrong and he doesn’t know how to tell you what happened to him, but when you run your hands through his hair, the words are already rushing past his lips. He speaks faster than he can think, the story mixed with events as he rushes through it, while he palms himself through his jeans. He can’t look at you while he does something so humiliating, but he can't pry himself away from you either, his snout pressing against the soft curve of your neck as he presses the heel of his hand further into himself. He’s gasping, and whimpering, acting so painfully shy that he even whispers your name is something perverse. You continue to stroke his hair, and it’s panting, whining and humping against your leg that he can’t take it, that the sensations are just too much at the moment. He needs for you to touch him, to just do something more than pet him.

The points of his teeth nips at your shoulder and he’s struggling to keep his moan muted as his body shakes against yours. He’s apologizing and he’s ashamed of his actions to palm himself in front of you, that he can’t look at you. When you cup his face and have him look at you, he’s apologizing, and telling you that it just felt too good and that he can’t think with you so close to him. You pull him onto the couch, the television shutting down and for a brief second, silence fills the room. You sit on the couch, the cushion soft underneath you and your hands grab at his as you pull him close to you. The aphrodisiac is making his mind muddy and slow, and he can only watch as your hands carefully and tantalizingly slow undoing his zipper and he’s flustered. With tears in his eyes as his own shaky hands grabbing at your wrists but it does nothing to stop you. You undo him, and you're so soft against his cock, freeing it from the confines of his pants. Your warm hand is wrapped around the base, giving it a few slope strokes where the friction makes his leg jerk. His head is thrown back, hands covering his mouth as you wrap your lips around his cockhead. Soon into the rhythm, his hands are on the back of your head, pushing you down to the base of his cock, your spit soaking him and something salty and thick squirting down your throat. The soft feel of the inside of your cheeks press against his side, hollowed cheeks as your hand grip onto his thighs and your little whines and whimpers make him thrust haphazardly into your open mouth. He keeps you there until you pat against his thighs and when you look up at him with tears in your eyes and drool running down your chin, his eyes go dark.

Shuichi goes for you, pinning your back down on the couch as he captures you in a kiss, his tongue thick and slimy inside of you, and he’s pulling your shorts down, rubbing his coarse fingers against your slit, spreading your arousal around the entrance of your hole. He’s animalistic, holding the traits inside of him, dominant and needing to breed, the want to push himself deep inside you overtakes him and he muffles your moan with a kiss as he unsheathes himself in you. Your sex pulses and throbs under him as he frantically ruts himself against you. He’s nipping at every exposed inch of skin, ripping your clothes off and suckling on your sweet breasts, his head buried in your chest and when he rises, your chest is covered in a thin layer of drool. Your hole is soft, gummy walls that wrap around him, twitching when he hits a certain spot and he can’t think, can’t even make out a sentence, and only your name is the most coherent thing that is said as he fills your hole with his seed.

Sako Atsuhiro:

There is nothing worse for Atsuhiro than what is happening now. He holds an image to the public, to his comrades, to you- and that is that he is composed, he’s a showman and when in the public eye, he maintains his appearance. Yet, the quirk, something like a perfume that wrapped around him, has stuck. The aroma was- or rather is- sweet and no matter how far he runs, it just won’t leave him. It’s humiliating. This is one of the worst things that has ever happened to him and he’s seen and participated in his own share of hell. His pants have become too tight, his cock straining and begging for release and even just the idea of pleasuring himself leaves him with a hot face. Without a second thought he rushes to you, his steps quick until he’s running and sweat beads and makes his clothes stick to him. He doesn’t want you to see him in such a disheveled state, but then again, you’re the only one that can see him like this, that can see him as anything less than him. He’s running and breathing roughly and his heart is pounding against him and there is nothing more that he can think of than to go to you, ignoring the stares and fighting his way through his own personal inferno just to be near you.

The lights are on and it gives him all the motivation to rush to your door and knock frantically; he’s begging to be let inside like it’s death that is chasing him. The lock clicks and when you open the door, he’s quick to rush past you, removing his mask and giving a kick to close your door as he captures your lips in his. Everything is so easy with you, and yet, standing just in front of you and kissing your lips proves to take his breath away, it drains him, and he’s drowning all over again. Peppermint leaves his lungs burning, and with your lips on him, it’s replaced by sweet hibiscus, flooding and sprouting from his lungs and he never wants to let you go. He holds you close, his hands on your waist and when he parts from you, you look at him stunned and he can’t help but laugh. It’s soft, a simple chuckle that grows as he buries himself in the curve of your neck as his laughter grows. Your hand rests at the nap of his neck and your fingertips tease at the edge of his balaclava. The simple graze of your skin against his has him press his weight against you. His hands haven’t left your sides and with a tired voice, he tells you what happened- the quirk, the scent, the way that his only thought was to be with you. It’s all so draining to just be in front of you, and with his erection tucked in his pants, he isn’t sure how much longer he can wait until he’s creaming and staining the inside of his clothing, to be so humiliated in front of you as he pleasures himself, but he can’t hold back, not when you’re in front of him and the feel of your tongue is making his length throb in his palm.

Your nails scratch along his neck, trailing over the bumps of his spines and a shock runs down his body, his breath catching in his throat and his hands squeezing down on your sides. Slowly, he lifts his head as his balaclava is lifted and removed, his hair is left ruffled and curls left messy. He leans towards you, trying to capture you in a kiss once more, but when you pull away, he lets out a groan, bowing his head and resting it on your shoulder. He’s begging for you to touch him, to just let him kiss you one more time. It's too much heartache to go without you for a second longer. You coo his name and lift his head, brushing back his hair that is stuck to his face. It’s too much to feel your gentle and cool touch against his burning body and he’s shaking his head, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his chest where his heart beats against your palm. It’s too forward of him. He knows that this isn't him whatsoever. He’s a gentle lover, your needs are put first because even just seeing your blissful expression is enough for him to feel the familiar knot in his stomach. This, however, is just too much, to have you touch him so softly, a ghost over his skin and your lips brushed against his, he’s dying and gasping for breath, reaching towards you as a hand unbuttons his pants and he’s massaging his cock over his briefs.

It doesn’t take much for him to spill in his briefs, to his hand moist and sticky and his body shaking and moans filling your mouth as he continues the motions. He needs the sweet friction that is making everything much too sharp and too powerful for him to just lay there. He’s dying and pulling you close and the way to your bedroom is messy. You’re already on his lips and he won’t lose that feeling again, not until the bed is underneath you and his hands are on either side of your head. The covers are wrinkled and his clothes are discarded as he eagerly touches you, having them disappear into nothing but glass in his palm. You’ll pout and reprimand him for ruining your clothes, but for now, he’ll muffle your annoyance with a kiss as his lust clouds his mind.

Nimble hands tease against your slit, spreading your nectar around and massaging at your entrance, the tips of his fingers slowly spreading you and familiarizing the stretch of your hole.. The feel of your plush walls has him tight, his muscles tense and body feeling as if it were about to curl in on itself. His cock is erect, standing at attention, his tip tinted with red, blushing and bashful as milky white pours from him and drips against your entrance. He enters you with a euphoric moan, so sinful and depraved, that he stills for a moment, his muscles rigid as he tries to not to ejaculate so soon. Atsuhiro has just entered you, he can’t waste this opportunity when your hole is cushioned around his cock. The moans that leave your lips are rich in lust, his own muddled with sobs as if entering you is pure ecstasy. Ever the gentleman, he's always made sure to give you the first orgasm, but he can’t now. He’s already taken away that first pleasure, and as greedy as it is, he can’t stop. His hips move faster than he can think, skin slapping against skin as he moans your name, filling you with his seed and continuing even when you squeeze around him and claim that you’ve already reached your own climax.

Shigaraki Tomura:

It’s terrifying to know how much control one can have on another. Tomura is upset, a frown on his lips and the anger in him is quickly snuffed out, replaced as soon as it came with lust. It wraps around him in a thick smoke, encasing him and filling his lungs until he’s unable to breathe. An aphrodisiac is such a cheap trick, and he hates it. Embarrassment courses throughout him and he’s left doubling over, his hand so close to his erection until something metallic is on his tongue. He’s a man of many depravities, but he’ll be damned if he touches himself in an alleyway simply because of a quirk. He already has you and he’s chasing you, running through the street with you on his mind and his hand outstretched as if he could actually touch you. The friction of the seam of his pants has his breathing more rugged than if he were just running. He knocks, and he tries to avoid raising his voice, but the pressure is building, and he’s already undoing his jeans and reaching past his briefs to release his erect cock.

The door opens and you stand there with a smile to greet him only to recoil in surprise when you see what he’s in the middle of. You make a joke and if it were any other day, maybe he would laugh and reply with something of his own, but he can’t. He pushes past you, kicking off his shoes and removing his clothes, sweat so heavy on his body and his body so hot that the cool air of your air conditioner is leaving him in goosebumps. It’s cruel how you touch him, your hand over his bicep and when he looks at you, his cheeks are pooled red. Every touch is electric, his mind numb and body moving on its own before he can register what he’s doing, he leaves your touch behind him. He goes to your bed, collapsing and removing his clothes on the way, leaving a trail for you to find in your home. You follow him, his name on your lips and hearing you call for him just leaves him laying on your bed, removing his briefs and fisting his hand around his cock. Your hand curves over his forehead and you tell him how he is burning as if doesn't know that. You date a killer, and you’re still so naïve and it’s adorable in a way that makes him want to ruin you. He doesn’t waste time- he tells you what happened and grabs your hand, moving it beside to touch the side of his face and he watches how your lips part ever so slightly, commenting on how red his ears are. He laughs and moves your hand closer to his mouth. You’re real, touching him and there is worry laced into your features and words, and it’s so genuine that he feels a heavy hand wrap around his heart.

Time is ever passing, continuing on and never returning and he’s hot, and begging, his cock erect and balls full with unspent semen. Pain is etched around him in scars and bullet holes, and he’s telling you in a broken whisper how it hurts, how he’s in pain and with how reddened his cock is, you have to believe him. Your fingertips touch against his chapped lips, his tongue peeking out to lick at the tips before he slides your hand down. Your hand curves around his neck and you linger for a moment where his heart is beating eagerly, rapidly as if threatening to pound out and leave him bleeding before you. Lust is clear in his eyes, his mouth parted and you kiss him, and he eagerly returns the gesture, releasing your hand to grab your face and deepen the kiss. Your hand moves on its own- sliding down his chest, brushing against his pebbled nipples and lower against his stomach and falling to his crotch to wrap around his pulsing cock and tug on it, spreading the pearling bud over him until he’s panting with his head resting on your chest and mouth open.

Thick ropes of white coat your hand and your name is sung out in a groan, depraved and everything bad. It isn't enough to just have your hand wrapped around his cock, to be given a handjob, he wants more. He craves it like a sinner to their vice. He’s erect, and his breath fans against your lips. Begging has never been so immoral as it is right now when he pleads to you, begging for you to touch him more, to let him do more than kiss you. It’s you that he cares for you, and even with your kiss and his climax, he wants something more, he needs to feel you underneath him. He pulls you close to him, your body clad in just your underwear and he's grinding above you, his spent cock over your underwear, his mouth latching on a breast and toying the nipple with his tongue. He grinds and it’s harsh, your underwear slick with your and his arousal, a string of semen connecting him to you as he pulls away and hastily removes your remaining clothes.

Your face scrunches in pain and you let out a whimper when he grabs your legs and pushes them to your chest, his cock aligned with your fluttering entrance. He watches as your expression changes from pain to pleasure, your sex tightening around him. Clicking fills the room, your entrance allowing him to slip in his body twitches in response, every nerve and hair on it’s end as he feels your insides wrap around him. It’s animalistic, his hips moving on their own, the rhythm barely there and he’s only interested in his own climax. His mouth is slick with saliva and he’s above you, with your legs bent on your chest and his hips rocking back and forth. The inside of you is gummy, molding around the shape of his cock. It’s as if he’s going to leave your sex in the mold of his cock, never to have you forget who it is that is making your heart beat and sex tighten. Your hands entangle in his hair, threading his hair together as he buries his cock inside of you. He’s chasing his high, mouth open in a moan as a thick trail of drool drips from his mouth and coats over your collarbone. It’s filthy and degrading, but to him, seeing even a small portion of you covered in his spit has him spilling his seed inside of you. Tomura kisses you and it’s wet and messy, but it’s perfect as his lungs are deprived of oxygen and he gets to feel your hands claw at his back.

Chisaki Kai:

Filth clings to him so easily, that painstaking amount of time that he wastes to keep himself pristine is all for naught at the end. All ruined because of a simple quirk. His mask is lost, a casualty of the fight and all that he can breathe in is the air of the sick and depraved, the air of something sweet and intoxicating. Kai hates it all. When the drug is perfected and in the masses, he’s sure of who will get one of the few. The damn reminder of what and who it was that brought him to the floor of some alleyway so rotting that it makes his anger boil, his face hot and whether it’s from frustration or anger, he isn’t quite sure. He covers his mouth and nose, and the poor attempt at a mask is just that- a poor attempt. He can still breathe in everything, still taste the air that is filled with smoke and the dewy weather of the night. It’s horrific. He forces himself to go to you, because at this point, it’s either touch and ruin people and risk getting himself covered in more filth, and go to you and do what the quirk is making him do.

The cheap paint touches his knuckles as he knocks at your door. He doesn’t want you to be late in answering the door, you have to hurry up. Hurry up and get him out of this sickness outside. Hurry up and bring him inside where he can shower and rid himself of these clothes that have been sullied by everything but you. You open the door the second he raises his palm, a frantic and desperate attempt to let himself inside, to fix some cheap wood just as quick. Why he hasn’t moved you in with him yet is unbeknownst to him, but after today, he’ll start to push for it. When you open the door, he walks inside, kicking his shoes and ridding himself of his clothes before you can lock the door behind you. You call his name and his eyes snap towards you, bright golden irises that hold the fury of the sun behind them and he’s breathing heavily. He’s not in the proper state of mind, but damn it all. He tells you, and with every passing second, he becomes angrier. Stalking and following you throughout your home, until you’re backed up against a wall. At this very moment, he has lost his control.

You’re scared and that should be his top priority but he can’t think. He can’t focus on you when his erection is strained between his pants and your breath that smells like mint is against his own. Your eyes flutter to his crotch and when you catch a glimpse of his erection, his name a soft murmur of your lips, he pushes himself into you. His erection presses into your thigh and he can feel the shift of your muscles, the tightening and the jump, the feel of your breath changes into a shaky gasp and exhale and he’s in front of you, silent and face spoiled red. You reach out to touch him, your hand slowly going upward but just as you're there, just as he can feel the warmth of your hand hover against the side of his face, you retreat. He reaches for you immediately and places your hand against his face and he’s out of his mind, too consumed with lust to ever focus on the filth that once touched him, and too focused on you and the way your fingertips flutter against his cheekbones.

It’s an intense moment where you touch him without the feel of the mask or gloves, and he’s so soft. And when you blink, his mouth is on yours. Everything about him is all about control and precision, and yet, with this simple act of kissing, he’s sloppy, too forward and bumping his teeth against yours, trying to nip at your bottom lip only to give up and focus on your neck. Your hands have moved, cupping his face to curving against the back of his head and knotting your fingers into his hair, your own body grinding into him and pressing against his erection. His own hands wander through your body, touching underneath your shirt and cupping just the underside of your breasts to leave and trying to undo his own zipper, aching to release his dripping cock. Exploring your body in such a drunken state is new to him, every movement slowed down and leaving his knees weak and body filled with needles and pins- he can’t get enough. Your hands bump against his and the friction is enough for him to spill onto your shorts, staining it with a pearly white that is thick like cream and drips onto the floor.

His cock is in your hands, slick with his cum and just the right amount of friction to leave him moaning into your mouth. Clothing pools around you and him and his bare skin is touching yours. It’s rushed, knuckles bumping into each other, his cock teasing against your sex, and the sensation is elevated with the aphrodisiac of the quirk and it’s making his mind blurry and jaw wet with saliva. Your body and his are sticky with sweat, sweat pooling in joints and crevices and he’s disgusted but when he pinches around your pert nipple and you let out a sweet moan that has your nails digging into his biceps, he ignores all of it and focuses on you. Kai is high with lust, elevated and drunk and his lips are on yours as he enters your hole. It takes nothing more than a few pumps to get him to spill, to fill your sex with his cream and let it drip onto the floor as he pounds into you, too focused on his release and your quivering sex to focus on how you call his name. His face is flushed, sweat that curves down past his cheeks and drips onto your body as presses you deep against the wall and lets the aphrodisiac take control.

Kurono Hari:

There is no time to waste as he rushes to your home. The heel of his shoes click against the concrete and he must look like a madman as he runs through the night. The night is humid, sweat causing his clothes to stick to his body and the mask is held in his hands, the confinement of it all making him unable to breathe. Hari needs to go to you now. He needs to see you before his legs give out and he collapses onto the ground before him. It’s the damn quirk that is making him act so unlike himself, ruining his image and tainting his composure with such filth that perhaps there is truth behind eradicating quirks just for being wicked. He’s lost, his mind hazy with lust, corrupting the very essence of him, and it’s perverse. He doesn’t know how to take it. He reaches your door and he stands, catching his breath, his heart beating against the confines of his body, and he’s standing there, willing for the door to open, and unable to move his hands. It’s just then, that he notices his cock that throbs in excitement. He takes a deep breath and reaches for the key to your home in his pocket and quietly, he opens the door.

The inside of your home is cool, and it feels as if he’s been transported somewhere else, everything moving in slow motion as he walks through it, wading against the pool that is your home, his hand touching and never leaving the wall as he follows your singing. It’s loud and at certain points you mumble, but it's you. He’s growing closer, and closer until he finds you with your back turned, undoing a blanket and laying it down on the bed. You don't hear him as he walks behind you, and when he wraps his arms around your torso, you yelp and laugh when you realize that it’s just him. He isn’t sure what the aphrodisiac did to his mind to make it feel so out-of-body, but he enjoys how you press against his erection, how the sensation is doubled and when you give him a cheeky smile, he captures your lips in a kiss.

His hands are clawing at your body leaving lines in its wake, removing your shirt and grabbing a hand that cups his face to his erect cock. His lungs are burning, the kiss hasn’t broken since you’ve removed your shirt and he’s currently kneading at your bum, his hands removing your shorts and when you step out of them, he only pulls you closer to you. His fingertips tease at your rim, and you’re already dripping with arousal, staining the tips of his fingers with your sweet essence. You’re the one to pull away first, gasping for air and falling to rest on the bed, and you look up at him, your eyes wide and body naked as you glance down to his erection giving him a kitten-like grin. His hand reaches upwards and wipes at his lips, thick with saliva and full of the taste of you. Slowly, he removes his clothes, not wanting to waste time on such little things and he lets them fall onto your floor. His lungs crave for air, taking in as much oxygen as they can fill, and he’s leaning towards you, his hands on either side of you as you rest on your forearms, your grin now a mixture of nervous and excited as you ask what’s gotten into him. It's true, he's not so obvious in his advancement, not so needy to touch your body, much rather having you beg for him and grind yourself on his thigh, but with the aphrodisiac coursing through his veins, his composure is lost and damned to hell. His smile is sadistic, eyes piercing into yours and his answer is simple, as he whispers it to you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear- “the cause of an aphrodisiac quirk.” He’s above you, jerking himself off in front of you and within just a few tugs, he’s spilling his seed over your stomach, watching it spurt out of his cock and slowly end in a drool that falls onto your pelvis.

It’s so damning to see him as anything less than who he is and how he presents himself and yet before you is a degenerate who gathers his semen in two fingers and pushes it inside your mouth, letting the taste fall onto your tongue. His grin is wide and he’s above you, pushing you down on your back and he captures you in another kiss. He wants you. He needs you at this very moment, more than he needs air, more than he needs anything. It’s just you that he wants. He ended you to kiss him and to run your hands down his body. He’s a degenerate, but he’s desperate, whining for you and grabbing your hand and letting it curve over his breast. He says nothing, but it’s a big enough clue to let you know to inch his nipple between your index and thumb and pull on the sensitive bud. His whine is echoed in your mouth and his erection is drooling on you once more. A blush creeps from his chest and onto his face, coloring him pink as his lower half is tipped with red and pearls that adorn his shaft. He aligns himself until his erection is pressed against your thigh, warm cream dripping and sliding off of you.

Your pillowy thighs pinch around his cock, and he hides his face in your shoulder, his hands gripping at your biceps as he pleasures himself using your thighs. Soft clicking sounds sound from him using you, his orgasm shaking through his body as he leaves open-mouthed kisses on your neck, grabbing you and pulling you close to him. To lose himself in pleasure is something he’s never allowed himself the pleasure to do. Hari would much rather prefer you with a drunken look of ecstasy on your face, your face in a heavenly blush and your hole leaking with his semen, but now he realizes the pure joy of it all. To mindlessly hump at your body and kiss your mouth and touch your warm body that squirms for him. Your hand curves over his cock and he moans your name, arching his back and hiding his face as you press it to your entrance. He slips inside, and the feel of your gummy insides makes his mind go blank, only the need to release is clear in his mind. He rocks himself inside of you, and the degenerate is gone, only a desperate man who wants to orgasm remains with a blissful flush and your name on his lips.

[fatesresonance]

10/25/22, archived from Twitter ONGOING Asexual Diluc and the trials that come with it

―――

Diluc knew that he wasn't normal from a young age, but he didn't fully comprehend it at the time. When others were giggling and blushing about other people, gossiping about first kisses, he didn't understand.

It was okay, though. He didn't have to understand, as he was still young - he was only 11! He still had time, and when he was grown up, he'd start feeling the same way.

He was content about it at first. Maybe a little confused and lonely, but he was okay. 

Things went downhill when age thirteen hit and suddenly Kaeya was starting to act the same way as they did.

Blushy. Eyes wandering boys and girls they met, watching them leave. Making small comments on how their ass looked, or that they were cute as hell.

Diluc became overcome with a sour jealousy he didn't understand the source of. It infested him, constricted his chest and made him want to cry because of how bad he felt.

He was 13. Kaeya was 13. Why wasn't Diluc the same? Why wasn't Kaeya looking at Diluc like that too? 

Kaeya crawled into bed with Diluc one cold night and curled up to him, back to back, feet to feet.

"Luc?"

"Hm?"

"Have you ever wanted to kiss someone?"

Diluc swallowed. Did he? He couldn't recall the urge, but he was recalling the /want/ of it. 

"How come?" Diluc asked instead.

"I can't stop thinking about it," Kaeya replied. "And, um... Other things."

Diluc craned his head. "Other things?"

"You, uh. You know." Then, in a shushed, embarrassed voice, "Sex."

Why did Diluc feel so disgusting right now? 

Not... Not disgusting. But wrong. Uncomfortable. It pooled thick in his gut and Diluc wanted to escape.

"Oh," he said.

Kaeya curled up in a ball behind him.

"Have you thought about it? I know you and Jean are close."

Gods, not like that. He was still only 13.

"Do /you/ think about it with someone?" Diluc asked in return.

"Um..." Kaeya tensed.

That was a yes. Diluc didn't know why his heart dropped. Why he wanted to squirm.

They dropped the conversation entirely. Diluc didn't sleep well that night.

Diluc didn't know what was wrong with him. He didn't know why Kaeya's words echoed in his brain and made him want to crawl out of his skin.

All he knew was that he felt... completely separated. Isolated.

He hoped to grow up quickly. He was tired of being lonely. 

After Kaeya, Diluc began to notice just how rife his peers were with it.

Couples made out in the HQ hallways and not-so-secretly played with each other in the library. Individuals complained about being single, gossiped about who banged who. 

Diluc kept his mouth shut, of course. He wasn't a snitch, nor was he a prude.

Why couldn't they keep it in their pants? How could they be so damn horny? They're only 13. They're children.

And then they're 14. And 15. 

Diluc felt eternally stuck as a child. The world went on without him.

At age 14, Crepus sat Diluc and Kaeya down at the table with a book and a cup of tea.

"I think it's time I give you boys the talk," Crepus said, "for when you need it."

Crepus gave Kaeya a knowing stare. Diluc didn't want to think about it.

He opened up the book - one of reproductive cycles and 'the birds and the bees' - and began an agonizingly long conversation.

"Who you engage in it with doesn't matter," Crepus said. "Boys or girls, both are completely normal. You have my, Elzer's, and Adelinde's full support either way. It's important you stay safe, though."

"Why do we need to learn now?" Kaeya asked, cheek to fist.

Crepus looked at him and sighed. "You two are growing up, as much as I don't want to admit it, and it's inevitable you will want to become intimate with someone. It's better you know for when the time comes rather than scramble and make risky mistakes."

When. Not if.

Crepus, after conveying it all with detail, went on to explain that 'those' feelings are normal too. That it's a fact that both of them would become interested and aroused by someone, and it's important to communicate.

Honestly, some of the details blurred for Diluc.

Diluc understood the concept of him being with someone in the future. He understood it was a fact and this information would prepare him for when he made that decision.

As time went on, that concept became more and more estranged from himself.

Age 15.5, Diluc felt like none of that applied to him. Not really. He couldn't picture himself right now courting a cute boy and becoming intimate, or even kissing him.

He felt, once again, isolated. Stuck in his own little bubble.

One afternoon, shortly after training with the Knights ended, Diluc made the way up the stairs to use the bathroom and wash off.

He was alone, or so he thought, until soft moans and giggles reached his ears from the corner breaking away from the main hallway.

Diluc pursed his lips, huffing, and continued walking. Whatever. Kids will be kids, and they will be stupid.

He unfortunately had to pass them on the way to the bathroom. Diluc couldn't help but spare a glance.

His heart dropped in that very instant.

Kaeya had a boy their age - a blondie with green eyes - pinned against the wall by his hips. Their tongues were down each other's throats with roaming hands, feeling what they pleased. They were clumsy, but driven.

Diluc wanted to vomit.

He turned the other direction and left.

He... He didn't know what to think or feel. He didn't know what the correct reaction was. Diluc only knew that heart shattered.

Maybe he'd fooled himself into thinking Kaeya was the same. Overlooked his obvious interest in others and those activities–

and was sorely mistaken until evidence proved otherwise. It made sense. Diluc was lonely and the brain is weak.

If Kaeya was like this, then Diluc should be too. They were hip to hip close, so much so one didn't end without the other beginning.

So why couldn't Diluc grow up?

He laid in bed that night, tearing himself to shreds while staring blankly up at the ceiling, still dotted with glowing stars from childhood.

Diluc was not normal. He concluded that with finality. There was something wrong with him and he needed to fix it.

He didn't know how to fix it. He didn't know how to make himself like everyone else - relationships, sex, intimacy - and he didn't know why he was... wrong, from his very bones.

Broken.

Did Kaeya know he was broken?

Did Kaeya know how fucked up Diluc was? The damn boy was nearly of age and he hadn't held hands with anyone besides Kaeya.

He hadn't done anything with anyone besides Kaeya. He loved Kaeya more than anything in the world. He was his first priority.

Diluc angrily pushed down his lounge pants and took himself in hand. Maybe if he just made an effort and tried, this would all be proven wrong.

He wasn't a broken boy. He was just... not prone to being aroused? Yeah, that had to be it.

Diluc wasn't a stranger to touching himself. It was an occasional activity to rid himself of tension and relax himself at night - so when he bit into his pillow and sighed from the sensations, he thought the troubles were dissipating.

Diluc had no one in mind.

He tried. He picked random strangers he'd feel less guilty getting off to and imagined a scene of them fumbling in bed. It did nothing for him.

He tried picturing characters from his favorite books. He picked scene illustrations, strangers, conventionally attractive people. 

Nothing.

He picked Jean.

Nothing.

He picked Kaeya, in a fit of desperation.

His heart fluttered when something in him stirred. A bad taste formed on the back of his tongue, but he couldn't care.

He wasn't unfixable, he wasn't wrong, he wasn't–

The sparked flutter died as quickly as it came when his fantasy got into the thick of intimacy.

Nothing.

Oh.

Diluc /was/ broken, wasn't he?

He tucked himself away, unfulfilled. Diluc cried a lot to himself that night.

Diluc couldn't look Kaeya in the eyes for several days. All he could see was Kaeya making out with another boy (that wasn't Diluc) and the (unjustified) hint of betrayal (for what Diluc conjured in his own thoughts), plus a reminder of the fact he discovered. 

Diluc was defected and there was no way to fix it.

But, as life does, it went on. The world continued to spin even though Diluc felt stuck in it, forever 11 years old.

He had to move on.

Diluc wasn't a fool. He knew the way Kaeya looked at him now - disappointed, let down, confused - when Diluc avoided him for the next week.

It was for the best though, wasn't it? Kaeya was growing up. He needed people on his own level.

He needed people that weren't Diluc, and who wanted him, and who could give him what he wanted.

At the end of that week, Diluc sobered up and kicked himself for being such a mopey, whiny baby. Kaeya didn't deserve to be ignored for something as stupid as Diluc's own insecurities.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, unable to look Kaeya in the eyes. Crepus raised Diluc better than that, but he couldn't bring himself for eye contact. "I've been unfair to you."

Kaeya looked at him, lips set into a sad frown. "Why are you avoiding me, Luc?"

Diluc swallowed hard.

"I, um."

Barbatos, he was gonna make an ass of himself, wasn't he? Diluc felt ashamed just thinking of admitting the reason. It was so stupid and foolish.

"I saw you with that boy. In the hallway."

Kaeya paled. "You--You did?"

Diluc wrung his hands together. 15, yet 11. "Yes. I didn't... didn't know what to think. So I avoided it." What went unsaid was, 'which meant avoiding you.'

"Which time?" Kaeya whispered.

Diluc looked at him incredulously. Could his heart crack any more?

None of this had anything to do with him, but it felt like it did. He was sickeningly jealous. Of not being that boy, and of not being able to feel, not able to connect.

"Which time?" Diluc repeated, voice cracking. He cleared his throat.

Kaeya realizing that was the wrong thing to say rapidly showed on his face. "Luc, let me explain."

Diluc didn't feel like it. But, he stayed. He'd do anything for Kaeya. Even rot for him. 

Kaeya rubbed the back of his neck.

"Me and him... We're nothing. We've snuck off to the back a couple times, but it's never gone any farther than kissing. I was curious. About how it felt. What it was like. And he was too."

Diluc worked his jaw in silence.

Kaeya looked at him, visibly waiting for a response. When he got nothing but a careful blank expression, he sighed.

"None of it meant anything. Just... Hormones? Whatever Crepus said." Kaeya weakly chuckled. "You know how it is..."

"I don't."

Kaeya blinked in surprise. "What?"

Diluc shook his head and turned around. "Just forget it."

Kaeya caught his sleeve.

"Diluc, what's wrong? Why are you upset with me? Is it because I didn't tell you?"

Diluc would rather have not heard or seen anything.

"No, no," he replied, pitching his tone lighter. "Continue on as you please. You two and your... whatever. Couple-ness? Fling? Hide better next time."

Diluc swore he heard a, "I wished it was you" on his way out.

Diluc went to bed that night, hollow and gutted. He knew what pain felt like, but this was a new brand of sorrow.

He was being a whiny, mopey baby again, wasn't he? Unable to handle the fact that Kaeya was growing up and away from him.

That Diluc wasn't as important to Kaeya as before anymore, and that Diluc really /was/ just a fucked up human being.

15, yet 11, yet 8.

There was no place in the world for him. There was no place in someone's heart for him. No one wants a defect.

Diluc curled into the sheets and wished that the aching crack in his heart would dissipate so he could sleep.

Age 16.5, and Crepus asked why Diluc had never brought anyone home.

"I just don't find anyone particularly interesting yet," Diluc hesitantly said, nudging his way around the subject.

Kaeya looked at him with an unreadable expression.

Crepus frowned. "Not anyone? There /must/ be a girl you've had your eye on before." 

Diluc was dead quiet, unable to meet his father's eye.

Diluc had his eyes on one person, and that person wouldn't want someone like him.

"Or, ahem," Crepus cleared his throat, "a boy."

Diluc put on a weak smile. "I don't like anyone, Father. It's... just that." Nothing to it.

Yeah. Nothing to it.

Crepus appeared disappointed, but didn't voice it. Thank god. Diluc didn't know if he could handle that conversation.

He'd had a long time to think about himself. Most of it was of a self-loathing nature, but it brought to light facts he couldn't deny.

Diluc wanted to be in love. He desired romance. Sex and romance are so intertwined, though, especially in the city of freedom.

Mond was less prudish than other cultures of Teyvat.

When Diluc confronted Kaeya the year before about the boy, he spent another week avoiding him and licking his wounds. Gradually, he gravitated back to him, though more separated than before.

He didn't know if Kaeya ever got with that boy again. He was glad he didn't know, but bothered by it too. It was a bittersweet, double-edged sword.

Kaeya never brought anyone home. Diluc could only be grateful for that, as he watched Kaeya slip through his fingers.

Once again - life continued on. The world still turned. Diluc pushed himself past it and threw himself into the Knights. If Diluc couldn't be whole, then he'd be damn good at what he /could/ be.

Kaeya trailed behind him, remaining comfortably in the shadow that Diluc cast.

Things... Well. They didn't necessarily get easier, per se, but Diluc learned to maneuver around. He grew.

He and Kaeya were side by side constantly. They fought together in expeditions, went to events together, trained and studied together.

Just as in childhood, the two of them were inseparable.

They were, together, the uncrowned bachelor princes of Mond.

Having that title meant a lot, and young adults eagerly trying to get with either of them was one of the consequences.

Diluc's stomach churned in queasiness as Kaeya playfully spun pleasantries with his silver tongue with a girl a year younger.

He, himself, gently turned everyone down.

He had to remind himself that Kaeya would never be what Diluc wished he was. It was a harsh truth.

Diluc couldn't hope Kaeya to be something he wasn't - private, selective, unsexual like him. So, he must deal with jealousy of various kinds and reasons.

He couldn't keep himself from wishing though, quietly, it was him on that receiving end of that tongue.

Kaeya flourished. Skyrocketed. He was so brilliant that it hurt Diluc's eyes to see, yet he'd withstand the countless tears to witness him.

Diluc cherished the nights Kaeya slept over with him, back to back, feet to feet. He didn't know what time would be the last.

Diluc didn't know when Kaeya would branch out once again and leave him 16, yet 11, yet 8.

He didn't know what was to come.

Age 17, his life stood on two feet and fucking ran.

Diluc, admittedly, got a little too drunk on his birthday.

Crepus had allowed him a small, /small/ glass of wine in celebration. He (presumably) failed to notice when Kaeya snuck the entire bottle away, as well as others, and stashed them in his room.

As a lightweight, Diluc was a little buzzed when he retired to bed. He mostly found the aftertaste not to his liking, but he couldn't deny the pleasantries of inebriation - what little he knew of it, at least.

Diluc closed his door, sat down on his bed, and simply sat. Stared at the floor. Thought.

Seventeen. Huh. Damn. Just one more year until he was of age.

It felt just like yesterday when he was still on Crepus's shoulders, lifted up after crushing grapes with his feet.

There were a lot of things he should be feeling, but he didn't feel them, nor did he know what to do with those feelings if he did.

Diluc should feel older and wiser. He really didn't though; apart from the celebration, it was just an ordinary day. Nothing special.

Had he wasted his year? Had he done enough? Had he made the best of it?

That was a fear he had - wasting his time and youth.

Being in the Knights and having studies kept him constantly busy. Nonetheless, the little voice of fear crept into his mind.

Diluc only had this year left before he was an adult. Before all the responsibilities of adulthood came crashing down upon him and his (limited) freedom was no longer free.

 

Had he missed out on opportunities this year? Missed out on adventures?

Grand Master Varka always encouraged playing as hard as one worked. He'd said, "Enjoy your youth while it lasts, cause it ain't here forever."

Diluc knew it objectively was just a... factual sentence. Some nights like these, those, it was frightful.

Sometimes, Diluc wondered if he was missing out on being a teenager by being the cavalry captain.

In an attempt to calm his growing panic, he thought back on all the available opportunities of the year. To be honest, there weren't many he had missed.

He attended expeditions, trained new Knights, helped host small parties. Crepus brought him on business trips and Kaeya made sure they had time for beach visits and exploration. Their closest friends they hung out with were as busy as they were.

Diluc let out a sigh.

It was okay. He had time. He did what he could and made wonderful memories. 

Diluc would never forget the time Jean fell in a ditch on a camping trip after announcing the terrain was free of ditches.

The memory made him smile.

Everything was alright. He hadn't squandered his time and youth.

But--

Gods, he was coming back around to this again? It must have been the alcohol getting to him. Diluc hadn't thought about this for a while now - he was doing so good.

But-- he hadn't had his first kiss yet, let alone held a hand romantically.

Diluc shoved his face into his hands and rubbed his eyes.

He didn't know why he kept circling back to this, time and time again. Diluc was not a fan of relationships, really. He couldn't find attraction in anyone (except one person he couldn't have). He knew he'd be severely uncomfortable if he /was/ in one.

So why, if Diluc knew he'd be just suffering the entire time in a relationship or through related displays of affection, was he so ashamed he had never experienced it (yet)?

17, yet 11, yet 8.

There was a severe disconnect with societal expectations, his wants, and his actual reality of being.

Diluc couldn't think of anyone, bar Sucrose or deliberately 'celibate' individuals, who hadn't been kissed before.

Hell, his own... Scratch that. Hell, /Kaeya/ had.

Diluc knew at his age he should be searching. He should be courting, hooking up, fancying, whatever.

Crepus expected a significant other and, in the future, an heir. Right?

Yet Diluc couldn't shake the perpetual thought of 'when I'm older, it'll come.' When is older?

What age would fix him? Make him normal?

He wanted: a relationship, intimacy, kisses, to be touched and to touch preciously, to adore and be adored, to feel and give pleasure, sex like any other teenager.

Sitting there, the dots slowly, finally began to connect.

Diluc wanted to /want/ those things. That was key, wasn't it?

Society said he should want it, so he wanted to want it, and it felt the same. But it isn't, truly.

Having a romantic relationship was more in the picture than anything else, granted. But semantics.

Everything is just so frustrating.

Seventeen and he couldn't even figure out his own mind.

Diluc wanted Kaeya.

(Speak of the devil...)

Diluc lifted his head at a couple precise knocks on his door. It was a constructed pattern only Kaeya knew and used.

"Come in," he called, sitting up straighter.

Kaeya popped his head in with a wicked grin. He quickly scurried in and locked the door.

Then, from behind his back, he revealed two bottles of wine.

"You ready to have fun?"

= tbc =