#It's the first thing that catches my attention and then it's personality to seal the deal

[onlyseokmins]

I hope it gets better soon yes please let the sun in and enjoy it (here it's still cold too). He truly is asjsjds 😭 he really is cute and yes i agree to that, undercuts are actually what i like too (i think hoshi as one) but yes Jeonghan is something different with the long hair (or gyu)

Oh i remember them but noo not for him 😂 he looks good the way he is now

💃🏻 Thanks babe, hopefully warmer weather will come our way again before more snow! Omg tasteeeeee hhhhhhh i love hoshi's undercut - I love Hoshi in general tho but he looks super sharp when he's performing w/ one or super squishy and naked when he's being cute (ik naked sounds weird but like - he's just so baby 😭) oh yeah gyu looks sooo good imho he looks more puppy? Haha same w/ cheol

Ahajkskwkss yes I'm pleased w/ his looks now 💀 which I mean I like him ofc more than just his looks but I admit I'm a very visual-based woman at large 😭

[haveagarbageday]

Got a secret, can you keep it? \\ Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen (Lestappen)

summary: You're looking for your runaway driver in the paddock when you see something you shouldn't have. Before you know it, you become a part of this well-kept secret.

additional info: I'm on a roll! No, actually, I posted the Max one while I was at work, and then I had half a day left with nothing to do. This idea came to my mind and I had to write it down.

“The moment I find you, Lando, I’m going to skin you,” you hissed into your phone as you searched the paddock for the problem child.

But he only laughed at you, clearly enjoying the hide and seek game he had decided to play with you today. The problem is that he stopped in front of a camera, ready to give an interview, but two sentences in, his attention was diverted by some drama in the background, and he left to check it out. You had to apologize several times, promising to catch him and drag him back to do this properly. But damn it, he was good at hiding. This wasn’t the first time he hid from you, and something told you he could be literally anywhere, even in another team’s motorhome. Anything was possible with this little gremlin.

You reached a quieter part of the paddock that was full of spaces protected from the crowd, the perfect spot for Lando to hide. So, you methodically began to search for him, not missing any of the hidden corners and narrow alleys between the buildings either, but you found nothing. Your frustration was growing with each passing second, with each empty space that seemed to be free of him. When you reached the last one of the alleys, you saw movement in the back, and you were happy that you finally found the runaway driver.

Well, you couldn’t be more wrong. Because it wasn’t Lando, and it wasn’t just one person either. The signature blue and red colors of their shirts made it clear which team they were from, but when you looked at their faces, blood froze in your veins. You knew about all the jokes, all the fan theories and hopes, but never, not even in your wildest dreams could you imagine this happening. Sure, they clearly looked more at ease in each other’s company after sessions in recent years, which was good, people loved it, yet you still couldn’t wrap your head around the sight in front of you.

After seeing them almost swallow each other, Lestappen wasn’t just an urban legend to you anymore. Fuck. You wished you didn’t see that. You could already feel the heavy weight on your shoulder.

Before they could spot you, you decided to do the sensible thing and turned around to leave as quietly and as soon as you could. But not two steps later you heard a voice behind you. “Wait, let’s talk about this, okay?” Max said, taking a step closer to you, his hand resting on Charles’s arm.

Letting out the breath you’d been holding, you folded your hands behind your back and took a step closer to them. “I didn’t see anything, I swear. My lips are sealed, you don’t need to worry about that,” you were quick to assure them. Silence fell between the three of you, but then you remembered why you were here in the first place. “Have you guys seen Lando? He’s being difficult today.”

“Have you tried his driver’s room? He’s probably in the most obvious place,” Max offered, knowing the Brit well enough to give you his best guess.

Okay, you already knew he was smart, but this was the best idea you had heard in a while. Lando would surely pull something like this; chilling in his room, maybe playing some games, then giving you a surprised look as he went: “What do you mean? I’ve been here the whole time!” Wouldn’t be the first prank he pulled on you, that’s for sure.

You thanked him, then turned to leave again, and this time they didn’t stop you. But you heard murmuring, a quiet conversation that didn’t sound panicked, in fact, it sounded like they were discussing something excitedly. Whatever it was, it wasn’t your business. None of this was your business, so you were trying your damn best to forget the whole thing.

The problems began the next day after qualifying, when you were in the media pen with Lando, watching him like a hawk, and shepherding him around to make sure he did exactly what he was supposed to. You were between two interviews, discussing a few things, when Max approached you and stopped next to you to talk to his friend. You greeted him like you normally would, but otherwise you didn’t dare to move or speak, afraid it would become obvious you were hiding something. It probably takes time to get comfortable with the secret you knew, it couldn’t be more than that.

But then you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body as Max casually put a hand on your back while he talked, making it look like it was just a friendly move and nothing more. How could this be an innocent move when you could feel his thumb pressing into your skin, drawing slow circles to drive you crazy? You glanced over at him, and you could have sworn you saw a smug smirk tugging at his lips for a moment when he felt your eyes on him.

Lando was oblivious to the whole scene, he was just smiling brightly and giggling as they talked, too lost in their conversation to notice the way the Red Bull driver teased you. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed the reporter you’d been waiting for signal you that they were ready for the chat with your driver, so you apologized for interrupting them, then gently pushed him in the right direction. This left you and Max alone, and he finally let his hand drop to his side as he turned to you, the mischievous glint in his eyes giving away that whatever he was about to say would make you mad.

“How does it feel to know?” he asked casually, sipping on his Red Bull as if you were talking about the weather. Your eyes turned to him, silently begging him to drop this topic, but he didn’t seem to be interested in letting you off the hook. “We talked last night, you know. It feels so good that someone apart from the two of us knows the truth. Seriously, it’s so tiring to hide from the whole world, not having the chance to talk about the highs and the lows or ask for an outsider’s opinion when there’s a fight or disagreement.”

At first, you were just the kind of friend they’d been waiting for, serving as a neutral outsider when they needed another opinion about something. Then you began to hang out with them, one at the time, eventually serving as a glue between the two rivals who hadn’t really been seen together outside the paddock. Because one day you followed a well-prepared choreography at a bistro, making it look like you were out with Charles, while Max jumped in to get some food to go. Then you noticed each other, started talking, and he ended up taking a seat and joining you for dinner.

The same thing happened a few weeks later, when you and Max went to a club, where surprise, surprise, Charles showed up to greet you. The three of you got comfortable on a curvy couch in a corner of the VIP section, downing shots like there was no tomorrow, too lost in your little bubble to notice what you were doing. Because Max had an arm around your shoulder, talking to you while Charles moved forward to capture your lips in a drunken kiss, and only then did you catch the Dutchman whisper into your ear how much fun the three of you could have if you went home with them that night.

You only realized their relationship turned into your relationship, when Lando asked you about a photo of the three of you hanging out in the paddock on a race weekend, chatting and joking freely over your breakfasts. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with them off the track too. Why don’t you ever hang out with me when you’re in Monaco? You’re so mean,” he said with a pout.

Friends. That’s what you were for outsiders. It was good. With the days spent together getting more frequent though, you knew it was only a matter of time before someone sniffed out the truth. All the nights spent tangled up in bed, with the two of them making a competition out of pulling as many orgasms out of you as they could, surely had a toll on you. Physically, you were more than okay, they made sure of that, but being in this relationship was surely difficult to handle mentally.

“I’m not hanging out with you, you muppet, because I might drown you in a glass of water after five minutes. Babysitting you on race weekends is more than enough, thank you,” you told him with your tongue stuck out.

This conversation made you think, it made you reconsider what you’d been doing in the past months with the boys. For one, it was a dangerous game. Hanging out together more and more, especially when you were at a place where they couldn’t keep themselves under control thanks to the level of alcohol in their bloodstreams, the risk of someone finding out their little secret was higher than before you had been dragged into their life. Then there was the fact that you felt like shit. It felt like you were a piece that didn’t fit. They were so good together, why would you stand between them?

You knew that ending a relationship in a text was the worst, but you didn’t want to give them the chance to start negotiating. So, after the race weekend was over, you sent them a text that you wouldn’t go with them this time, then left the group chat, blocked the both of them, and got on the plane back home. The plan was simple: you would spend a few days watching movies and TV shows that were in your backlog while eating unhealthy snacks, and maybe you would meet some of your friends if they still remembered you.

What could possibly go wrong with that?

Well, everything. It was only your first full day at home when your doorbell rang in the early afternoon, and when you opened it, you found a very disheveled Charles standing there, watching you with a disapproving look on his face. You were ready to tell him to leave you alone, but then he gave you the puppy eyes as he let out a tired sigh, and there was no way you could shut the door in his face. You stepped aside and let him in, stopping in the living room door as you watched him sit down on the couch, and when he patted the empty space next to him, you were stupid enough to do exactly what he wanted. If things went like this, you would agree to whatever he came up with. 

“Blocking us? Really?” he asked you, the hint of disappointment not missing from his voice. “You could’ve at least talked to us in person, give us a proper explanation instead of disappearing like that. What the hell were you thinking? We would meet at race weekends anyway, you can’t think we wouldn’t corner you there.”

Looking away, you gulped and thought about what to say. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many stupid, fake explanations for your decision, but deep inside you knew you had to be honest with him. “You were fine together, Charles. Before I found out the truth, you had everything under control, and you were happy. But then you dragged me into your little secret, eventually poisoning our so-called friendship with casual sex, and–”

“So-called friendship? And casual sex?” he asked, his head slightly tilted to the side, eyes narrowed as he watched you. “Did it ever mean anything to you?” 

You hesitated, unsure of what to say. You really liked them, but the fact their relationship had a lot more history always made you feel like someone who didn’t belong. To you it was casual, just an outlet for getting rid of all the stress your job and keeping their secret came with. Just sex, nothing more. No emotions were supposed to be involved. Sure, they were friends, but it wasn’t love.

Apparently, you were an open book to Charles, because he ran a hand through his hair with a groan as he watched you. “We trusted you.”

“You can still trust me, I won’t tell anyone,” you assured him. 

He let out a desperate laugh. “It’s not that kind of trust, we know you wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m talking about us, about our relationship. We thought you felt the same way we did, that you loved us too. You could’ve been honest, you could’ve told us it didn’t mean anything to you before we caught feelings,” he told you, his voice forced to stay calm. 

“Charles, just try to hear me out. The two of you, that’s the relationship that can work in the long term,” you began to explain. “Me? I’m just… I don’t even know what I was to you. A plaything? A brand new shiny toy?”

“You’re not some toy!” he snapped, finally showing you how he truly felt about this conversation. “You, Max, and me? This could work so well if you just stopped being stubborn. Okay, I admit, we never thought about the possibility of a relationship like this, we always thought it would be just the two of us, but that’s because we had to keep it a secret. But you finding us that day? That was the best thing that could happen to us. We love you just as much as we love each other, that’s what you need to understand,” he explained as he grabbed your chin to force you to look at him. 

You took a deep breath to calm yourself, but the way he was watching you, silently begging you to accept the truth… It was too much. Tears began to roll down your cheeks, but he wiped them away, he kept telling you that it was okay, that everything would be okay, and there was no reason to cry. He repeated this enough times to make you believe it. You were beginning to believe they truly loved you, and you actually thought about the possibility of continuing this from where you had left off. Once your tears stopped coming, he leaned in to kiss you with a small smile on his lips. 

His stupid green eyes were mesmerizing as he watched you, and no matter how hard you wanted to resist, how badly you wanted to be strong and step back, you just couldn’t get yourself to say no to him. Sadly, he was well aware of this ability of his, he had used it on both Max and you a few times before to get what he wanted, and this time he looked just as smug as he always did after a win. 

“Pack a suitcase, because you’re coming with me,” he whispered to you. “Until you get ready, I’ll call Max to tell him the good news.” 

You began to wonder how long it would take you to admit to yourself just how important they had always been to you. Because they were important, no matter how many times you told yourself this meant nothing to you, otherwise you wouldn't be in your bedroom now, packing the suitcase as he asked. You wanted to please him, you wanted them to be happy, and why would you feel this way if you were indifferent?

Maybe this time you would be able to let yourself go and enjoy the relationship, and you would finally believe this could work.

As you were thinking about this, your phone that you left on your nightstand began to vibrate and the screen lit up. You picked it up and saw a message from Lando: “Have you seen this? Max's jet is at an airport near you, but I know for a fact he's at home. WHAT ARE YOU HIDING????”

Okay, maybe letting yourself go wasn't an option.

[leviismybby]

Cat and Mouse

Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, mdni, nsfw 18+, fingering

Levi's eyes scan the rooftops, he can hear you, hear your footsteps. He launches his gear at the nearby building wall and steps on the rooftop, spotting your figure he hides behind a wall and waits for you to pass by. This time, he won't let you off the hook easily, you were gonna rush past him but Levi surprises you, spins you around and pushes you against the cold surface harshly. You grunt as your back hits the concrete, your eyes narrow immediately before they meet his grey ones. He will never learn.

"Captain." That sarcasm in your voice isn't something Levi appreciated, he jas had enough of your games. Before he speaks, he pins your hands above your head, last time you pulled a stunt, he isn't letting that happen again. "What the fuck is your problem?" You know why he is mad, you've caused him quiet the trouble, not that you regret it. "My problem? I don't have one. You clearly do." A brat, you were such a brat and he couldn't fathom what keeps him so infatuated with you. Maybe it's the fact that you're a thief that the MPs can't seem to catch or maybe is the fact that you outsmarted him both time he caught you. Either way, Levi wants it to stop.

"You have to stop. The military police will get a bounty on that shitty head of yours. You fucked it up badly this time." He was right, you did fuck it up, stealing from the Garrison just for the thrill of it. If Levi didn't know any better, he would say that you're crazy, than again, he isn't exactly normal either and he is the last person to judge you given his past as a thug. "Aww, thanks for caring, I don't care." You try to stir out of his grip and he only tightens it, keeping you still. "You're fucking insufferable you know that?" It was true, you were an annoyance for him, he had better things to do than to chase a petty thief around Trost but there was something about you that kept him coming back. He hated himself for always giving in.

"I can only say the same, Captain. Why do you care so much?" You roll your eyes, trying to find a way out of his grip but nothing seems to come to mind. He is too close to you, you can feel his breath on your cheek, this is getting dangerous. "I don't dammit. I will be the first to celebrate when your ass gets thrown in jail." Maybe he should do it, bring you in and let the militray police do as they please with you but his inner turmoil isn't letting him, he hates to admit it but he enjoys this, the chase and the games between you. His comrads would be disappointed if they knew, he knows your face, knows how you work so why doesn't he just report you? It's a problem that he can't slove tonight.

You don't say anything, the words coming out of his mouth were harsh but true, you did keep him on his feet and you enjoyed the attention. "So report me. Or is your ego not letting you." He hides things well behind that indifferent expression but his eyes tell you a different story, there is hate there, of course there is, you two hold mutual hatred for on e another however there is desire there too, it shouldn't be. It really shouldn't. Levi scoffs at your words, his fingers wrap around your neck and he squeezes, his other hand still firmly holding your wrist together. "You're the egotist one here. You and your shitty criminal jobs. How much money did you earn by selling sealed information huh? What is your game here?" That was his main problem, you stole from the survey corps too and he doesn't appreciate it one bit.

His fingers squeeze your throat again, he wants you to answer but he won't approve if you lie to him. "Enough and I enjoy the chase. Noel matter how big or minor my crime is, you always comr running after me. Why is that captain?" Now there is a question he wants answer at least not with words. Hos face inches closer to you, your noses touching. "Fucking annoying brat." You smirk, your eyes drifting to his lips, will he finally do it or will he run away from it like all those other times? You don't move away or lean in, you simply wait, eager to feel his lips agsint yours.

And just like that, a groan leaves his lips, his hand moving down to your hip and his lips crashing agsint yours. Returning the kiss immediately, you feel his grip on your wrist loosen and insted he interlocks his fingers with yours, his kiss getting more passionate. You let your hand fall to his hair, pulling him into the kiss even more, his body presses up agsint yours, the heat between you making a shiver run down your spine. You moan as his hand moves to your ass and he squeezes, loving the sounds that are leaving your mouth. He needs to hear more and he plans too. His grip gets more and more possessive, his hands start to roam your body, feeling your every curve. You can't go all the way put here, both of you know that but Levi is letting his desire for you cloud his judgement and he can't keep his hands off of you even out here.

The two of you keep kissing for some time until Levi pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to each other. Levi's eyes look you up and down, he wants to fuck you here and now but it's too risky, so he will simply have to do something else. His mouth starts kissing your neck, each kiss more sloppy than the other, you throw your head back, giving him more space, you're enjoying this more than you thought you would. A gasp leaves your swollen lips when he bites into your skin leaving marks behind. "You smell so fucking good." He says against your skin before biting again, this time he hits your sweet spot directly, making a shiver run down your spine. You grab onto his shoulders, your body pulling it self closer to his. "Desperate are you? Fucking brat." He turns you around, your hands on the cold wall, he bucks your hips sligthy and gives your ass a firm slap, fuck the things he would do to you.

He lands another slap on your ass, his body pressing fully into yours, you can feel how hard he is for you. You bite your lip and reach out for his bulge but he slaps your hand away. "No. Keep your fucking hands on the wall understood?" You nod at his words, as much you want to talk back to him, you don't want to ruin this moment so you keep quiet and listen to what he says. You keep your hands on the wall feeling his run up and down your sides before the reach your pants. His hand slides in and you gasp at his cold fingers as they reach your core, he rubs you over your panties making soft moans come put of you. "Wet aren't you? Is this waht this whole thing is about? You want me to fuck you don't you?" Bingo, thats exactly what this whole thing is about, him finally breaching his breaking point and taking you.

Your hips buck into his hands, you want more. Levi chuckles, sending another shiver down your body, this is the first time you hear him chuckle and it's making you feel things. "Yeah? Oh you would love to have my cock deep inside of you right now. Too bad you're not getting it." He nibbles on your ear as he says that, his voice horase and rough, he is turned on beyond belief. He starts to rub you again, feeling the way the fabric of your panties is getting wet, you're phehetic, acting all though while all it took is a single touch for him to get you under his control, you melt so easily, he will indulge in that. Finally his fingers slip into your underwear and feels your pussy, his fingers runs down your slit, feeling your slick and walls, you're so wet for him, fuck he really is in trouble.

He kisses your shoulder, his fingers finding your clit, you thighs close against his hand, whimpers escape your mouth. "How cute. You're phehetic, so fucking easy to break." His fingers enters you without warning, it starts of slow, he loves teasing you but as soon as he feels your warm walls clench around his finger, he starts to finger you faster. "Fuck Levi." You say, your hands steady on the wall, he knows what he is doing. As soon as you said that, he adds a second finger keeping the fast pace, your eyes start to water as he curls them hitting that soft spot. He keeps pumping his fingers in and put of you, your actions are getting him more drunk, he loves how your body shakes just from him fingering you. He needs to control himself or else his cock will be buried deep inside of you and he can't afford that.

The more you react, the faster his pace gets, you forget completely where you are. That people can see and hear you but that's the last of your worries right now. You have Levi, the captain of the survey corps, humanity's strongest soldier fingering you on top of a building. This isn't how you wanted your afternoon to go but its far better than you ever imagined. His fingers keep moving inside of you, his other hand runs under your shirt and he grabs your breast, massaging it in his hands. "Are you gonna cum for me out here?" That makes your pussy clench aagsint his fingers again, you're getting close, that pit in your stomach starts to build up but you're not queit there yet. Levi knows how to push you over the edge, his thumb adds pressure on your clit and he keeps fingering you in a fast pace, the moan that leavs you is something you should be ashamed of, oh someone definitely heard you now, not that you care. "That's it. Good girl, cum for me, let me see you fall apart."

You can't keep your hands on the wall anymore, your grabs onto his arm with both of your hands, digging your nails into his shirt as you cum. You roll your hips, riding out of your orgsam against his fingers, he keeps them inside of you even after you cum. You catch your breath, your head falling back on his shoulder, he kisses the side of your face, he removes his hand from your underwear, his fingers are soaked. "Took about two fucking minutes to make you cum. Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks you as you open your eyes, your cheeks flushed, his hand is still on your breast and he squeezes it once more before letting go and setting both of his hands on your hips. He kisses you on the lips again, the kiss is quick and sloppy.

Eventually, Levi pulls away from you, cleaning his fingers with his cloth. You turn back around, leaning against the wall. The sun is starting to set and you don't know what to say. Levi looks your way again, he fixes his gear. "Stay out out trouble or next time I am fucking you on the wall for all to see. Understood?" That makes you laugh, he had a way with words but you wouldn't mind at all. "Oh captain my captain, if that will be the outcome, I will be gladly robbing the bank next." Your words make his eyes roll, you really were a brat. You fic yourself, fix your hair and look at him again. "See you around, Captain." You wink and get off the rooftop. Levi is left there, staring at the distance until he realised something, his wallet was missing. Damn you.

[permanentswaps]

Body Suit Shopping (Pt. 2)

It’s been a year since that day in the bodysuit shop. I still remember how excited Asher was, slipping into that older body, calling himself ‘Dad’ like he’d been waiting for the role his whole life. I can’t lie—I was loving it too, especially those first few months. We both dove headfirst into our new lives. Him, strutting around as the older, wiser version of himself, owning that salt-and-pepper beard and the lines around his eyes like he’d earned them. And me, living in a body that most guys could only dream of—smooth, muscular, and young, with abs that popped and a jawline that could cut glass.

Asher loved everything about being the ‘dad,’ especially the respect and authority that came with it. It wasn’t just the body he enjoyed—it was the life, the way people looked at him differently, listened to him in ways they hadn’t before. It suited him more than I ever imagined it would.

And I enjoyed mine too… mostly. That body was a dream, but it wasn’t perfect. After a while, I started to notice the little things. The tattoo on my forearm—it was just off. I didn’t like the design; it felt too loud for me, not something I would’ve chosen for myself. And then there was the hairlessness. At first, it was fun, having that smooth, flawless skin, but over time, I missed the way my old body used to be—a little rougher, with a bit of scruff on my chest and forearms. This new body was sexy, sure, but it wasn’t me.

I tried to ignore my concerns, but they just never went away. Don’t get me wrong—I had no desire to return to my old body. In this younger hunk, I could get with whoever I wanted—older daddies, younger twinks, anyone I set my sights on. A body like this gave me power, attention, and confidence in ways I never imagined. But what could I do when it didn’t feel like me?

That’s why I decided to go back to the bodysuit store. The shopkeeper recognized me right away, probably saw that familiar mix of excitement and frustration in my eyes. I told him I was looking for something new—a hunk that fit my personality a bit better. We went through the options, flipping through catalogs of sculpted bodies, but none of them stuck out to me. They were all perfect, but maybe too perfect, too polished. I needed something else, something more me.

That’s when I asked the shopkeeper, “What if I wanted a bodysuit made from someone I know?” He said it was possible, but with a catch—the person would have to give up their body entirely, and he’d seal them into a new suit permanently. That got me thinking. There had to be a way where someone didn’t need to lose their life for that to happen.

That’s when the idea hit me: Asher. I could ask him for his body—after all, it was literally made from me, my own DNA, and I thought, what could feel more like me than my own son’s body?

Convincing him wasn’t easy. He loved his new life and body, and he was excited for us to stay in these suits long-term back when I'd first suggested it. But deep down, I think he enjoyed knowing he still had the option to swap back if he ever wanted to. I used that.

I started with what I knew would work: flattery. "Look at you," I said, watching him stand a little taller. "You’ve turned into a complete silver fox. The way people look at you now? It’s different, isn’t it? You walk into a room and everyone listens. You’ve got that dad confidence, and it’s sexy as hell." I could tell he was enjoying it. "You own this body like it was always yours."

He grinned, clearly agreeing. I kept going. "But think about your old body for a second. You were a total hunk—young, muscular. You remember how people used to stare at you, right? That body of yours was built for attention." I leaned in a bit, my voice dropping. "That’s why I want it. It shouldn’t be locked away forever. Let me live in it, show it off. I could appreciate it in ways you’ve outgrown."

I could see him thinking it over, but he wasn’t fully convinced yet. So I pushed a little harder, playing on his ego. "I think deep down, you want this to be permanent. You’ve already settled into this new life—you’ve become him."

He looked at me, a little surprised by my confidence, but I wasn’t wrong. I smirked, knowing exactly what buttons to press. "Imagine this—your old body still out there, still getting all the attention, maybe even more now. Guys coming over to rail it—think you’d get off on watching it happen. Hell, maybe you’d even join in." That suggestion clearly intrigued him.

He hesitated for a moment, thinking it over, but I could tell the idea of making it permanent was starting to excite him. After a pause, he finally nodded, a smirk crossing his face. He agreed.

From the second I slipped on the newly made bodysuit, I knew I’d made the right choice. I hadn’t seen this body in over a year, and damn, I’d forgotten just how great it really was—it didn’t disappoint. The moment I looked in the mirror, it all came rushing back. He had the perfect amount of hair, just the right balance between smooth and scruffy. His abs were carved like they were out of stone, each muscle popping in a way that made the body seem almost unreal. The biceps were massive, and his face? It always turned heads, no matter where he went. I couldn’t believe he ever wanted to give this up to become an older daddy, but I wasn’t about to complain.

As I flexed in front of the mirror, admiring how naturally the body fit me, I couldn’t help but think, Maybe I should ask the shopkeeper to make this my permanent body too. I mean, if Asher’s making his swap permanent, why shouldn’t I? This body was made for attention, made for admiration, and the way it moved, the power it had—it felt right. It felt me. I ran a hand over the taut skin of my abs and grinned.

No more doubts, no more second-guessing. This was going to be perfect.

[pixelscutz]

love. ❦︎ megumi x reader oneshot

request from : @plasmasimagination

word count : 786

this is a bit short and i am sososo sorry but if you want a nsfw verison feel free to request !

Megumi steps through the door, slipping off his shoes with his feet and looking tired. "Hi, Gumi," You say, throwing another popcorn into your mouth and chewing loudly. "How was your day?" Your boyfriend looks you straight in the eye, hoping to signal that he doesn't want to talk about it. You blink back in response and turn your head back towards the TV, hoping he could explain later.

"It' was fine, love." He huffs, walking towards the bathroom. "Im'a change real quick." You hear a loud shut from the door, giving the final sign that someone pissed him off, not telling you the reason. For fuck's sake. As you hear shuffling from the bathroom, you contemplate texting Yuji about what happened in training today, but you decide against it when Megumi walks out of the bathroom with his dirty clothes in his hands. He hastily throws them into the laundry basket and plops his head onto your lap, almost dropping the popcorn. It's shocking.

"Is everything alright, baby?" You question in a soft voice, trying to soothe his nerves. "Did something happen today?" Megumi gruffs in response and buries his head into your stomach, clearly not wanting to talk. You sigh as you start to play with his hair, untangling the mess of black hair. You two stay there silently for a few minutes, just appreciating each other's company. You check your phone to see if anyone has given you a heads-up about him, but to your surprise, you see nothing.

Plan B. "Such a cutie." You mutter under your breath, trying to get his attention. Megumi turns his head to look up at you, still having a face of annoyance.

"You've said. Many times." He huffs. You slowly ruffle through his hair and catch Megumi to shut his eyes. "Come on, What's wrong?" "Nothing."

"There is something."

"No, there isn't."

"Your ears turn pink when you lie. They're bright red right now, like Rudolph's nose."

Megumi looks up at you in defeat, sighing. "People are just assholes, that's all."

"Is that all?"

"No, do you love me?" He asks sarcastically. The question throws you off guard as you accidentally drop some popcorn onto his face in response. "Gross." He mutters, picking the popcorn off his face and giving it to you.

You sit there, dumbfounded, as he waits, completely unbothered. "Are you serious, Gumi?"

"I wasn't at first, but come to think of it, do you love me?"

"Yes!" You say, turning Megumi to look towards your face. "You're the first boyfriend I've had, the love of my life, first kiss, everything blah blah. How could I not love you?"

"No one does."

You shut your lips into a tight seal, looking for the right words. "You know you're the most precious thing in my life, correct? If you died, I have no idea what I would do." He shrugs. Men are so stupid. "Gumi, look at me. You are the most important person in my life, and I have no idea what I would do without you. You might think I'm saying this because I don't want you to feel sad or some bullshit like that, but I'm not. I still have no idea how I made you fall in love with me." Megumi looks at you momentarily, staying silent at the shocking confession. You both weren't good at expressing emotions, so you had every right to believe he was surprised.

His lip twitches. "Thank you." He seems to be trying to find the right words to say, looking away. "I appreciate you too. I still have no idea why you're even by my side. I.." He takes a moment to compromise himself. "I love you too." You hold back a laugh.

"I never said I loved you, but come to think of it, I do." Megumi's cheeks turn a light pink as you end up laughing. You cover your mouth, trying not to embarrass him. He rolls his eyes and covers his face with his hands, groaning. "It's fine," You laugh, "It was just so cute."

"Yeah, and our kids will be real cute too." Silence. Shittt.

"Real smooth, Fushiguro." You snort as he turns his head towards his lap. You secretly pray he doesn't feel how wet you are.

"Am I wrong?"

"No, not at all."

"Let's go make some right now." You can practically hear him smirking.

"Since when were you this bold?" You question.

"Since right now."

"Mhm, and why is that?"

"Because I can feel how wet you are right now." You gasp, hearing him laugh softly. "Well?"

"Of course."

[chososluv]

#𝟏 𝐅𝐚𝐧 - P L U G ! S U G U R U

✎₊˚⊹♡ summary & note : continuation of my plug series. here the reader is a local rap princess and suguru is your plug and favorite supporter ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

🏷 tags & warnings: smut, 18+, plug suguru, rapper reader, black femme! reader, reader has a vagina, weed smoking, squirting, spitting, riding, cremepie, oral (f + m briefly) pet names (return of ma/mamas agenda) also i was very eager to post this and its subject to be edited

✎₊˚  word count: 3.1k

if anyone knows the artist please tell me!

minors do not interact

"How much you want again, mama?"

You look up from Suguru's hands to his face as his question registers. Your eyes feel heavy as the indica pulls you into a sweet, tranquil embrace. Your eyes are red, hanging low and Suguru drinks in the sight when he finally meets eyes with you again. He subconsciously licks his lips, your beauty causing his body to increase a few degrees with desire. The burn has him clearing his throat to focus and you give him a lazy grin. You don't realize, but you send him spiraling with your dazzling charm before replying.

"If I remember correctly, you said that if I finish the song you would smoke me out." You remind Suguru of a verbal agreement you two had last smoke session. A chuckle verberates, shoulders shaking as he brings a lighter up to seal the blunt he had been working on. His craftsmanship in his rolls never fell short and tonight was no different. As always, he hands the blunt to you first. He always lets you light it and inhale the first puff of potent gas. Suguru watches your sexy and glossed lips wrap around the blunt at one end and flick the lighter on the opposite. He replies as you light.

"Well, I have yet to hear this said record so where is it, mama?" Suguru taunts as he watches you hollow your cheeks. Your inhale is long and harsh, and a thick cloud of white smoke leaving your mouth confirms it. Suguru smirks, watching you stifle a cough as the cannabis renders you breathless. Your mind is numbing out once again, feeling peace as you lean back into the couch. You pass the blunt to Suguru.

"That gas is immaculate." You comment and he smirks before taking a hit. He's conservative with it, taking smaller but frequent puffs, a major juxtaposition to your bigger yet smaller amounts. He takes another small hit and replies.

"You should know better." He grins, causing a shockwave to go to your belly at his charming smile. You shake it off.

"I never expect less. Anyways, I have the track on my phone. Do you wanna hear it?" You ask as Suguru hands you the blunt back. You scroll through your phone as you take it, locating the track as you take another drastic inhale.

"You should know better than to ask me a fucking question like that." You roll your eyes at his profane language but nevertheless you know his intent. Especially with the way his hips turned into a lazy grin, eyeing at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. Little did you know you have Suguru wrapped around your finger badly. His personal weed stash was not shared with anyone, let alone a romantic prospect. He knew you were different the moment he saw you rapping on stage and gave him the meanest and stankest attitude when he pushed up on you. It took him several appearances at your shows to finally entertain a conversation and the chemistry was so instant you were mad you took so long to give him your attention.

The drug dealer falling sweet on the rising local princess was not a romantic storyline Suguru thought he would find himself apart of yet here he was.

You play the track and Suguru instantly catches the beat. His head follows along with the bass instinctively, eyes closed as he focuses on your lyrics, flow, and delivery. Whenever clever word play or flow switch ups occurred he let out a verbal affirmation or appraisal that left your ego swelling. You took another hit from the blunt as the song continues, your final verse playing as you finish the track strong. A menace and lyrical genius you are in the booth and Suguru shakes his head. He opens his eyes as he looks over to hold your gaze.

"You so damn talented, y/n. You gotta perform that soon." He declares, reaching for the blunt and you hand it to him. He settles deeper into the couch, spreading his thighs out and the sight of him manspreading caused a butterflies to be released briefly but you quickly pull yourself out ot it. You gather your composure before replying.

"I will and you better be front row." You give him a cute little stank face, mean mugging as Suguru puffs on the blunt. He smirks at you.

"Bratty little thing," the words travel straight to your cunt, "but sure thing, mama. You already know wassup." Suguru gives you one of his charming grins and you feel those butterflies get set loose again. You can't fight it and you smile back. Suguru knows it's a mix of infatuation and cannabis, but he has the sudden desire to kiss you. He looks all over you, seeing that lip gloss still painted on your plush lip, big hoops in your ears, and those sexy bangs you recently got done. You're a goddess and have the intellect to keep Suguru on his toes.

"Good." You utter at his declaration, bringing him from his thoughts and he hums. He refuses to look away, even slowly leaning his weight towards you to bring his face closer to yours. You feel your heart thundering in your chest to the point where it almost hurts. You see the look in Suguru's face and sense he wants to immediately fold you in multiple different ways. Your eyes flicker down, eyeing the gray sweats he greeted you at the door with and see a tent now present. You should have known you would be sweating your straightened hair right back into curls.

"Mind if I kiss you, ma?" That was one thing about Suguru, you wouldn't think this immediately because he's a dealer, but he's so tender and so considerate of your boundaries. You felt yourself swooning at the man next to you, his large stature leaning over you as his lips came closer.

"I been waiting for you to do since I came through the door." You confess and Suguru smiles. A large and warm hand reaches out to caress your cheek. He holds his hands there, guiding your pretty face forward to meet him halfway.

"That long huh? Let me not keep my pretty baby waiting any longer, hmm?" Your lips meet and your world seems to melt. All the stresses evaporate and are replaced with a single thought.

Geto Suguru.

"Missed you so much, baby." Suguru says, tongue kissing you on his bed and you huff against his lips. You chase after his mouth, diving back in for a kiss as your hand snakes down to his sweats. He groans when he feels your hand palm against his length. You feel your clit tingle at his groan against your lips.

"I missed you too, Ru." You manage to get out before kissing him again. You crave his lips on yours and feel satisfied when you taste him again. He lets you kiss him a couple more times, your strawberry gloss on his tongue and you taste it when he shoves his tongue inside. You moan, falling onto your back as he pushes you onto it. You feel him pull away and you start to chase after him until he raises to his hunches. You pout, looking up at the man as he looks down at you.

"Watchu poutin for?" He asks, raising an eyebrow as he takes the black elastic hair tie from his wrist.

"You're not kissing me." You say and he chuckles. You dig your toes into the comforter at how dark his laugh sounded and your lower belly awakens when you notice he's beginning to tie his hair up into a bun.

"Yeah? Cause i'm bouta fucking feast on that lil pussy take them panties off already."

He's going to be the death of you.

"Fuck, I missed eating this pussy."

Sloppy slurping sounds cause your head to spin. You moan uncontrollably as Suguru feasts himself between your legs. His tongue is darting skillfully along your folds, collecting every drop you have to offer. Your toes curl, thighs shaking as Suguru has you on your back, legs pressed to your chest and feet dangling in the air. Your pretty anklet dangles and it happens to be one of his many gifts to you.

"Miss when you spit on it." You whine out before you can stop yourself. Suguru raises an eyebrow from between your legs, stopping his feast to smirk. He doesn't say anything, but before you can retort at his pausing he gathers all the fluids in his mouth and spits violently. The majority of it lands on your clit, the rest trickling down your soaked cunt. Your eyes roll back at the filthy scene and Suguru brings his thick fingers to spread it around your swollen clit.

"Like this huh? Like when I mark this pretty pussy?" His fingers sink into your folds, fucking the spit into your hole and you nod.

"Mhmm, yes Suguru." You whimper and he smirks. He brings his lips back down to leave a messy kiss on your clit. Your head falls back into the pillows as he takes it into his harm mouth. His tongue flickers along the swollen button before sucking harshly. You clench around nothing, desperate for something but you're too fucked out to articulate you want his cock. You feel satisified with the way his tongue marks each inch of your cunt. His oral techniques were gifts that you loved to abuse.

"You taste so good," he moans, taking a break to look at his work. Suguru admires it, seeing your swollen and soaked mound. He places an index finger at your entrance, feeling the arousal collected and greeting him instantly. He swears under his breath at the warmth and tight embrace of your folds. You pant, throwing your legs open wider to wordlessly beg for more.

"Suguru!" You moan, bucking your hips to attempt to fuck his fingers. He grins, seeing a small ring of cream form around his finger.

"Pussy so fucking wet, mama," he removes himself from between your legs and rises to his knees, "need you to wet this dick f'me, baby." You are sliding to be on your knees, matching Suguru's stance and he raises an eyebrow. Your hands come to his face, holding his cheeks before kissing him passionately. Suguru moans and you're slipping your tongue into his mouth causing his dick to twitch. His hands fall down to the curve of your back, taking your ass in his hands and squeezing. You moan but only continue to passionately kiss Suguru. Your hands slowly came from his face, traveling down to his shoulders. You plant your hands firmly on his broad, strong shoulders and press down before Suguru can register.

"What's this?" He asks looking up at you as you straddle his waist. You look down, grinning as you sink yourself into his lap.

"Wanna ride you." You state, grabbing between your legs to stroke his length. Your delicate digits touching his warm cock and earning a hiss from his mouth. You take his lips back with yours. Your tongues dance once again as you lead his tip to your awaiting hole. Your eagerness caused you to sink down, ignoring the sting and relishing in feeling full. You moans in his mouth, and he finds his hands kneading at your ass. You begin bouncing up and down, earning illicit moans from the two of you.

"Fuck, you're so wet." Suguru says against your lips. You moan and continue bouncing in his lap. His cock inching in and out left you breathless and falling closer to euphoria.

"All for you baby." You tell Suguru. He blushes but meets your thrusts when you sink back down. You choke, moaning out a whimper as you lift your hips, sinking them back down to be met with another thrust from Suguru. A lazy smirk forms on his lips and you squeal. His balls slap against your rear as his kneading ceases and a slap occurs. You let out a scream at the sting and pure shock.

"So tight and warm." He grunts, continuing to meet your thrusts and you grin. Your thighs begin to burn but you block out the pain, continuing to ride your lover to his pending orgasm. You feel your roots sweating into their prominent curls and Suguru relishes in the sight. Nothing had him more prideful than seeing his girl come with straightened hair and leave with natural curls. He knew if you didn't leave your curls he didn't do it right.

"Ru!" You pant his nickname, choking as he thrusts deeper and hitting your spot. The stroke earns a gush of liquid to wet your thighs and his pelvis. He bites his lip as your nails begin to dig into his skin, smarking his shoulders with crimson lines. He doesn't mind and only continues to meet your bounces with quicker thrusts.

"This pussy was made for me." Suguru comments, savoring the way your cunt continues to grip and milk him ecstacy. You whimper, giggling softly before you speak back.

"This dick was made for me." Your retort is followed with you clenching your walls. Suguru moans out a soft laugh before his hand strikes down on your ass. You cry and he hits the opposite cheek. Handprints form on both cheeks and he massages the sting away.

“Gonna come in this pretty cunt.” Suguru warns, feeling his cock swelling and ready to explode at any moment. Your pussy continues to squeeze Suguru's cock while making it absolutely soaked. His dick is beyond wet, its drenched.

"Give it to me." You sultrily encourage, "missed your cum baby." His tip kisses that sensitive spot and you start whining. Your pussy squelching with each bounce in his lap and continuing to decorate his thick thighs. Suguru is moaning at this point, hissing at how you continue to grip him despite being so fucking wet.

"Fuck, ma you're squirtin' all over me." Suguru moans, biting his lip as he continues to meet your rhythm, You only moan, ceasing your bouncing to roll your hips fluidly, his cock sliding in and out with lewd squelching. You place your forehead against his as you moan at the feeling of him twitching inside you.

"Feel so full baby." You say against his lips and he grins, hand slapping your ass and causing you to toss your head back, yelling out a profanity.

"So fucking tight," Suguru grunts through clenched teeth, "imma cum soon." Suguru warns, moaning again as you continue roll your hips gracefully. You sigh at his words, still swirling your hips as you lean back. Suguru looks down and sees your soaked cunt leave a creamy ring around his cock. He swears at the sight as he fights to cum because god the view is fucking filthy. Your swollen clit stood at full attention as it begged to be touched.

"Fuck, Suguru!" You place a steady hand on the back of his neck to brace yourself as you continue to lean back. He bites his lip, seeing the way your tits bounce and your beautiful body rolling obscenely. Something primal shifts in him and he's placing strong hands on your waist. You yelp, feeling your body fall back till you land in the plush sheets. Suguru still holds your hips, having them in the air as he pistons his cock deep into you. You choke, screaming before you place a hand on his wrist as you choke on several moans. Suguru is grunting, eyes closing as he is near his end.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum in this pussy." Suguru warns you as he feels his cock throbbing with each trust. The warmth and lewd noises coming from your cunt didn't help with the constant squeezing and soft pleas coming from your pretty mouth. Your mouth is hanging open as he continues to fuck you stupid, screams occurring as you struggle to grasp reality. Suguru's strokes render your mind completely blank.

"Ru-gonna-Cum!" You're choking, struggling to warn him and Suguru chuckles softly. He quickly moans though, as you squirt all over him yet again. He's cursing, hips snapping desperately as he felt his orgasm about to wash over him.

"Ah ah, baby fuck. I'm cumming!" He hisses out, sighing as he ruts sloppily, thick cum spilling inside you as you reach your undoing. You sob, thighs shaking as you back arches, tumbling into a thick abyss of pleasure. Suguru slowly lets out his thrusts, leaving you whimpering shivering as he slips out of your cunt. You shudder out a breath as you slowly open your eyes. His cock goes limp, but still wet with your arousal as you sit up. You're in a daze, but nevertheless you reach forward wrapping your lips around his limp cock to taste you and him. He hisses at the feeling but allows you to suck. You pull away, only to get pushed down yet again.

Suguru spreads your legs, eyeing at your abused cunt but he waits. Surely, his cum trickles from between your folds and he licks his lips. He leans down to lick a quick stripe up your cunt, fat tongue lapping the taste of you two before crawling up your body. He meets you with a kiss, swapping more than just salvia and you suck on his tongue. He pulls away, licking his lips before speaking.

"So fucking nasty." You giggle at him and he chuckles along with you.

"It's why you keep fucking with me." You tease, smiling lazily in the post sex haze. Suguru only smiles before kissing you once again.

"One of a few. C'mon. Let's shower and smoke another blunt huh?"

He always knows just the right things to say to you.

A shower and clean up routine later you're settling into his bed passing a blunt back and forth.

"When's your next show, mama?" Suguru passes you the blunt as he exhales. You take it, looking up from his chest before replying.

"Next Friday." You take a hit and watch him nod. He makes a mental note to clear his schedule on that day. Ever since fucking with you he always made sure he was present at your shows.

"I'm there." He said. You smile, nodding because you knew he meant that. This man before you taking the time to make sure he was always there to be your number one supporter. You didn't know if you and Suguru would ever be committed together, but you didn't bother to stress yourself with uncertainties. As long as you had the man before you in your corner. The world could burn away.

But as long as you weren't separated from Geto Suguru, you'd be fine.

©𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐯 ╰┈┈➤ MASTERLIST!

[kaivenom]

can i request for some more heartbreak high ant fics, the last of it is killing me !!

A little competition

Summary: you get to a new recreatives on town and decide to try every game, apparenty one of the boys in your high school doesn't like someone beating his records.

Pairing: Anthony "Ant" Vaughn

Warnings: none

A/N: here it is, since this precious men has so little content, almost inexistent, i decided to do it myself.

Masterlist

You were new on town and your firsts days on high school weren't the best to make friends so you decided to get ot a new recreatives to try talking to people. You talked to many people and was really fun but the thing you succeded on was to beat game records, especially you beat up "Ant's" records in everygame he was on.

You had such a great time that you decided to go there again the next day. Some people greeted you in, it was great to feel a little included. You went to a new game and saw again, the highest record was "Ant". With a couple of tries, you succeded on surpass him, you couldn't help but imagine how the person would react when seeing the news. You went to grab a snack and talk to some people.

When you came back, you saw a cute guy with a cap and some other guys on the machine you were before, you recognized them from high school.

"Fuck man, i don't know who is this person but it's breaking my records in almost every game, if i catch them i will break some," you hide yourself behind one of the stalls.

"Men, it's not that important, but if you want, we can kick them for breaking your records."

That made you really scared and you had the sensation that every moment they could catch you. You got out of the local without catching their attention but you failed.

"Hi, are you the new girl from school, right?" you try to sound confident at his question.

"Yeah, i am Y/N, you?"

"Ant, you haven't by any chance saw a person on the machines getting really high scores, right?"

"What?, me? ... no. Why would i do that?" your nervousness was revealing you.

"There's no reason to be so nervous, unless..." he made a pause, thinking about it and then his face turned surprised, "You are..."

"i am a pacifist but i heard what you said i won't hesitate to fight." you form a punch and made a feint to prepare to fight.

"What? no. I was angry and with the boys, i don't want to hit someone so pretty."

"Ah , no?"

"I don't plan to do it, do you want me to?"

"No, of course."

"But i am still angry and i want to resolve this because i worked really hard to be that good."

"A competition on a two player game?"

He gave you his hand to shake it, sealing the deal and you both went inside. You decided to fight on a game that both of you weren't really good, to make things interesting. He won the first time, then you, then he two times, then you three... and continued to do so until the recreatives were closing.

"I liked doing this, maybe it's good to have a competitor that it's as good as me." he said with a grin.

"Wait, i winned you more."

"No, i winned more."

"We need to confirm that, here tomorrow, again."

"i am not going to be defeated by you pretty face."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Because you are... well, if you win more tomorrow the i stop calling you pretty face but if i win, then i invite you to dinner." he said, giving you his hand to shake again.

"Okay, i will win but maybe the dinner it's still a good idea, but you pay."

"No, pretty face, if you want me to pay dinner the you have to loose."

You both laughed and went separatedly to your houses but really hoping that tomorrow gets fast to compete again.

[weirdsht]

What if i have an idea and it's orv's "incarnation kim dokja will be killed at the hands of the person he loves most" BUT it's reader and cale

May Our Fates Intertwine Once More - Cale/Reader

notes: 1. Anon I'm sorry for taking so long to write your req; and 2. I'm sorry to everyone who saw the small preview I posted before and thought it was fluff.

tags: fluff, no gender specified for reader, novel spoiler (sealed god's test), hurt no comfort, angst, death, canon divergence from 620

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

One moment you were next to Cale then the next second you’re standing in the middle of an unknown place with this weird half-transparent blue screen in front of you.

[Quest List:]

[1. Pass the tutorial

2. Launch a widescale attack on the safe zones during the eclipse 

3. Die after fighting a magnificent battle at the hands of the person who loves you the most]

“What the fuck…”

You cursed as you read what the screen says. You tried to see if you could touch it but something else popped up as soon as your finger made contact with it.

[WARNING!! WARNING!!]

[All injuries sustained in this body will be mirrored in your real body!]

“This isn’t my real body? But it looks the same.”

It really does. The only thing that has changed is your clothes. You’re wearing something that fits the image of a deity.

Still confused, you look around you. There’s nothing you recognized. But it does look like you’re somewhere abandoned.

[A message has arrived! Tap here to read!]

You tapped the new overlay that popped up and it instantly brought you to the message.

[Are you enjoying your lover’s original world?]

The anonymous message said. Immediately, you had an inkling as to who it could be.

“What the fuck? You must be that stupid god presence we felt back there.”

[Such brash words while talking to a god… Anyway, are you aware of where your lover is?]

“His around here too right? What the hell did you do to him?”

[Nothing much. His just under my test to overcome his despair. I’m waiting for him to be consumed by it so he can take my hand.]

“Knowing Cale, I'm sure he’ll overcome it. He’d rather die than work with you.”

[That’s where you come in dear.]

You feel like you can hear the god’s vile laughter even through the screen. But you wondered how you’d help meet Cale’s demise. Unless a demon possesses you to the point where you can’t control yourself, you won't do it.

Then it dawned on you.

The mission.

[3. Die after fighting a magnificent battle at the hands of the person who loves you the most]

“HAHAHAHAHAHA! You’re quite witty, aren’t you? On the bright side, I found out Cale loves me the most thanks to you.”

[It’s great, isn’t it? If you don’t do your missions you’ll be stuck here forever. If you do them you’ll die. Whatever you do you love must say goodbye. An instant recipe for despair.]

“We’ll see about that. You might be underestimating me too much.”

You pointed your middle finger towards the screen with messages before closing it.

Getting past the tutorial was easy. Turns out you have an inventory that contains countless supplies of food and other necessities. You also have the ability to summon monsters.

The same monsters your lover told you he fought in his previous life before becoming Cale Henituse.

“Ho? This is interesting. It feels like I’m playing a game of some sort.”

You said no one in particular as you read the descriptions of the monsters at your disposal. You spend the whole day navigating the screen that calls itself the “status window”. According to it, you have the whole day free today as the eclipse will happen tomorrow.

As you take yourself on a tour of your inventory one particular item catches your attention.

[Sword of Liubi Duplicate]

It was your sword. Well, a duplicate of it. It was given to you by Cale after you first met. Clicking on the sword, you read what properties would its copy have.

[A sword replicated from your world. It’s strong, probably one of the strongest swords on Earth 2 despite being nerfed. However, since it’s a duplicate it will only have half of its original prowess. It is still a remarkable weapon nonetheless.]

Some of the terms used like “nerfed” you don’t understand as they don’t exist in your world. But it still gave you a general idea as to what the status of your sword is.

Well, it’s better than nothing.

Plus you think the only time you’d have to use it is when you fight Cale so it’s better that it’s not as strong as before.

“Either way I die huh…”

You mumbled as you stared up at the ceiling of the abandoned house you found. Usually, a person would not be able to stay in such a place so leisurely. However, since the monsters won’t touch you it's a different story.

“What am I getting sad for? I was supposed to die way back! I’m just fulfilling it now…”

It’s the truth. If it wasn’t for your lover and his friends you would’ve died a long time ago. You guess someone bound to die early will die early.

You dismissed the thoughts of your death out of your head. Instead, you focused your energy on thinking about how you would get Cale to fight you so he could complete his mission.

With those thoughts in mind, you slowly fell asleep. 

“Okay, this is kind of fun… but I feel bad since Cale and the others are fighting the things I summoned.”

You’re on top of a building. A good distance away from Cale– no Kim Rok Soo’s safe zone but still near enough to be able to observe what’s happening.

“Is that Choi Han? At first I felt bad for them, but now I feel bad for myself. They’ll finish my babies in no time!”

Observing Choi Han and the others fighting, you kept summoning more monsters. The monsters you summon are regulated by the status window but you still find some joy in doing it.

It is getting tiring though.

You can’t believe you have to keep doing this for 24 hours straight. You’re not even getting paid…

[Alert!]

[One (1) of your “Grade 1 Taster Monsters” have broken from the pack]

[Alert!]

[Two (2) of your “Grade 1 Taster Monsters” have broken from the pack]

“What the hell? I swear my dearest must have an ancient power that allows him to gather powerful beings. His even stealing away my babies.”

You huffed in frustration as you watched two of your summons go over to Kim Rok Soo’s side.

“Isn’t this whole thing too good for me though? Everything I need to survive is free… And summoning monsters doesn’t cost anything.”

[It's the least I could do for someone bound to die either way]

That pesky god messaged you again.

“Well look at you being Mr. Nice. Are you flirting with me? Sorry, I’m taken.”

For emphasis, you brought up your ring finger that contained your engagement ring. As if flipping the god off.

[Blasphemous as ever. It tempts me to take you as one of my children. Too bad you won’t be able to take in the despair that comes as a price.]

“Yeah yeah. Just shut up. It’s not like I have any plans teaming up with a god.”

Sealed God shut up and you lived the next days in peace.

You have the monsters at your disposal that can do whatever you need them to do. And you have no quest assigned to you aside from that dying one. Your mind has also been at ease as you have a general plan as to how you’ll get your love to fight you one-on-one.

[New Mission Alert!]

[Summon one (1) Electric Eel in Gwangalli Beach]

Gwangalli Beach where is that? You have absolutely no idea. In fact, you’re tired of your status window acting as if you were from this world.

“I’m sure the monster will know where it is…”

Convincing yourself that your summons will know where it is you summoned a flying monster to take you to that place.

Luckily, your assumption was correct. In no time you were where you need to be.

“Status window summon one Electric Eel… Who named this thing? I mean it’s a snake that will be summoned from the sea, and has electricity as one of its powers. But Electric Eel? Seriously?”

After bashing the monster’s name a little, you summoned it.

“I’m sure you already know what to do…”

You mumbled to the monster before going away to hide before someone saw you.

All that’s left for you to do is watch and wait for your entrance.

3 days. That’s how many days it took for them to defeat the Electric Eel.

While everyone was doing that you were watching on top of the building. Your robed dress flows freely in the wind as you do so. There were a lot of instances you wanted to intervene. Wanted to go help the love of your life and the man you considered your brother.

But alas you couldn’t.

The status window with only one quest left reminded you of that every time.

[Are you ready for the final act?]

Sealed God messaged you again. As if laughing at your inevitable demise.

“Just watch my performance. It’ll be spectacular.”

For a moment you were tempted to curse him out as you usually would. However, you decided that if you’re gonna go out today, you’re going out with grace and elegance. It's only fitting as the fiance of a duke’s son.

[Player _____ will be killed at the hands of the person that loves them the most]

[The last arc of the game…]

[Starts Now]

Ignoring the status window, you ride the flying monster waiting for you. It’s the same monster that brought you to the beach before.

“I worked so hard just for you to defeat my baby.”

You gently spoke as you gracefully descended from the monster's back and onto the dead Electric Eel. 

“...That’s your baby?”

Kim Rok Soo mumbled quite mournfully. He was supposed to be your baby after all.

“Wait how are you even here?”

He asked. Looking at you curiously. 

“Oh, I’m the one summoning all the monsters you’ve been fighting. Was it fun? Ah, don’t ask me where they come from though. I have no idea where they came from. I can only summon them.”

You spoke as if there was nothing wrong. As if you guys aren't standing on the opposite sides of the battlefield.

“_____-nim…”

Choi Han, the man you have come to consider your brother, slowly called out to you.

“What are you doing?”

He asks, not minding the whispers from the people around you three.

“So that’s what happened to my Dark Tiger… Asking permission to borrow my things would have been appreciated, Your Highness.”

You addressed Alberu first before answering the swordmaster’s question.

“Don’t you still get it? Every play must end with the hero defeating the evil mastermind! And you Kim Rok Soo…”

The sword you summoned on the way here pointed towards your lover.

“You shall be the one who strikes the final blow.”

Kim Rok Soo’s brain connected the pieces. You smile while observing him. And that smile pissed him off.

Because you were smiling as if everything was okay.

As if you hadn’t just announced your death.

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll be stuck here and die. You wouldn’t want that would you?”

“So I just have to kill you here?”

‘And then you’ll return to my arms in our world?’

You knew the silent question that lingered in the commander’s reddish-brown eyes.

“Yes.”

Yet you ignored it. Letting him believe that everything will be fine. That you will only die in this world. That nothing will happen to you in your world and all shall be well.

It was for his own good.

The only way for him to not fall into despair once more.

Drawing your sword once again, you beckoned for your lover to fight you.

“Everyone else stay back. I’ll summon another unranked monster if you interfere.”

“Follow what they say and just watch.”

You and Kim Rok Soo said before your powers clashed with each other.

Lightning after lightning struck you. However, your sword blocked most of them. Dodging the ones you couldn’t block.

When it was your turn to attack, you struck your sword towards Cale. Each slash either landed on the Indestructible Shield or was blocked by the Fire of Destruction.

“Your sword is stronger than this. I did not give you such a flimsy thing.”

Cale spoke as you failed to cut through his shield once more.

“Don’t worry this isn’t the one you gave– Ugh!”

A lightning struck you. Cale used it as an opportunity to land more hits.

“I was talking you know? You’re as rude as ever. Anyway, this one is a duplicate.”

Your sword managed to land a cut on the commander’s arm. Everyone else watched the two of you. People who don’t know you were wondering how can the two of you fight while bantering as if your lives aren’t on the line.

But not everyone in the audience didn’t know you. Two people in there knew you very well. 

“I’m going back first. Something about this feels off.”

Alberu told Choi Han who was gripping his scabbard tightly.

“His Majesty is going first?”

“Seems like it.”

You can Cale continued talking as you fight. It reminded you of the small talks he would engage you in as you train.

It reminded you that this is probably the last time you will be able to talk to him like this.

“Ow! That hurts you know!”

A particular attack from the Sky Eating Water rendered you unable to pick up the sword. Cale took this as an opportunity to hold you down using the trees summoned earlier to fight the Electric Eel.

You watch as Cale turns off his Sound of the Wind. He walks towards you at a leisurely pace, picking up your sword on the way. 

“I’m sorry.”

He said and you noticed his hand tremble ever so slightly.

“Don’t be. I’m happy that it’s you. Do you want to know what’s the prerequisite of my death?”

Cale did not answer but you said it anyway.

“I shall die by the hands of the one that loves me the most. That’s what it said.”

The commander’s eyes shook along with his hand.

“That’s why I’m glad…”

Blood spilt from your mouth as your sword stabbed your heart. From the corner of your eye, you could see Choi Han running towards where you are.

“_____-nim!”

Your brother called out to you as Cale let go of his control on the trees in favour of holding you instead. 

There’s still blood spilling from your mouth but that didn’t stop you from smiling at him. Your smile was weak and tired, but it was the best you could do at the moment.

“I’m fine…”

You assured Cale squeezing your hand.

“I’ll be waiting for you in our world. So don’t be sad okay? Remember you have to overcome despair.”

“Promise?”

Cale asked you as he cradled your body in his chest.

“I promise.”

You left out the part that you’ll probably be dead or dying when he sees you. 

Weakly, but full of determination you raised your left hand to link your pinkies together. The diamond in your engagement ring shone as you did. Meanwhile, your right hand is being held by Choi Han.

They said that your life will flash in your eyes at your last moments. No such thing happened to you. But you did remember a conversation that you and your lover had prior to this whole thing.

“So you’re birthday is on November 8th? Why are you only telling me this now? There’s so little time to prepare a gift for you!”

“What are you talking about it’s still so far away?”

“No, it’s not! It’s not enough time for me to prepare the perfect gift for you.”

That’s right, today is November 8 in this world. It’s Cale’s birthday…

“In Raon’s castle… My gift is there. He should know about it…”

“You can just give it to me yourself when we get back.”

Cale answered and you almost laughed at his cluelessness.

“...Happy birthday my love. May you always find happiness.”

Those were your last words before you took your last breath. Before your body slowly turned into dust in Cale’s hold.

But Cale wasn’t in despair even as you die.

He may be sad, but he wasn’t in despair.

It was because he was holding onto your words that you’d meet him back home.

That’s how Cale was able to pass the Sealed God’s test.

But why…

“MOVE ASIDE, LET PENDRICK AND SAINT-NIM HANDLE IT!”

Why was the first thing he heard as soon as he came back Alberu’s shouting when he was supposed to be in his castle making preparations?

“CALL FOR MORE HEALERS WE’RE LOSING _____-NIM!”

“_____ wake up. Please wake up.”

Alberu and Raon’s voice rang on his head. 

At that moment. Rosalyn and Eruhaben noticed that he was back. They quickly greeted him before calling over Raon and Sherrit to remove the barrier that surrounded him.

“What’s happening?”

Cale asks as he enters the room where the shouts are coming from.

The sight made him stop in his tracks.

Laying on a grass bed that’s similar to where he was just a few minutes ago was his lover. His fiance.

They were lying there. Bleeding.

On the heart.

Exactly where Cale had stabbed them back on Earth.

A realisation dawned on him at the moment.

You just promised that you would meet him back home.

You did not promise that you would meet him alive.

Cale, the fool, had only assumed you would.

[twstbookclub]

Sharp Teeth, Tough Love

Summary: You caught Floyd's interest the moment fire and chaos erupted in the Mirror Chamber. One chance meeting gave you the nickname Shrimpy, and another left Floyd sinking deeper into the depths. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Floyd Being Floyd, Slow Burn, Minor ADeuce and Grim Shenanigans again, Unrequited Feelings, Floyd's POV (I hope yall remember whose nickname belongs to who) Word Count: 3, 044 If yall needed to know, I wrote this on the same day I wrote the Riddle fic. My brain is spent on these two, and I couldn't be any happier. I wish I could end this another way, though. Poor terrifying and violent Floyd. One thing to note, it's really fascinating how he only calls someone by name if he really respected them. Also, if yall catch that reference to one of Floyd's lesson chats, I will love you forever. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy again 💕

Floyd could never forget the first time he saw you.

Your face was twisted into a flabbergasted frown, mingled with distress, confusion, and exasperation. The cat monster—he’ll call it Baby Seal since its tiny height and gray fur reminded him of one—ran amok and spewed fire everywhere. Kalim’s screams rang in the air, followed by Crowley’s indignant shouts. He watched the chaos unfold with intrigued eyes and a widening grin, revealing sharp teeth and a thirst for more wreckage.

Amidst the smoke that billowed and swirled in the Mirror Chamber, you stood in the middle of it. The harsh glow of the fire pierced Floyd’s eyes, but all he saw was your silhouette surrounded by dying embers and crackling flames. Just as his gaze landed on you, your head swiveled around to look back at him. As if some invisible force compelled you to find the eyes that burned into your figure.

He wanted to see you again.

The next time he saw you, you were with Baby Seal and those two freshmen in Heartslabyul: Crabby and Little Mackerel. Even Goldfish and Sea Bream were with you. The six of you lurked in the courtyard, as if trying to spy on something. Whatever you were doing, it caught his attention.

“Careful, Floyd,” Jade simpered after he followed his brother’s line of sight, “don’t scare the fish away.”

Of course, Jade already knew what Floyd was thinking with one look. There was a reason why they chose each other and survived the coldest, harshest waters.

“Yeah, yeah.” Floyd flippantly waved away Jade’s words with a languid grin, before he snuck on the group. It was laughable, how they didn’t notice his tall and gangly figure slink in front of them. The six students spoke in hushed whispers, too engrossed in their conversation to see the shadow that loomed over them. His eyes roamed each freshman, checking the fresh meat, but they lingered on you.

You looked so small, and he had to tilt his head down to see your eyes. Back then, during the entrance ceremony, you hunched over as if to curl into yourself. Small and weak and afraid.

Floyd’s lips stretched from one ear to the other. He’ll call you Shrimpy.

“Oh ho ho! What is up, Lil’ Goldfish?”

Goldfish jumped, sputtering and floundering like a fish caught by its prey. The rest showed varying degrees of surprise. Sea Bream’s smile became strained, and Floyd could see the junior sweat a little. Crabby flinched, while Little Mackerel took a step back with wide eyes. His fists were raised to his chest, and Floyd’s eyes narrowed at that.

Huh, one of them was ready for a fight. Interesting.

His attention shifted to you, wide eyes fluttering in disbelief. You craned your neck to look up at him with parted lips. As Floyd engaged Goldfish in a conversation more like interrogation, he felt like he was floating. It’s as if he could run around the track field without breaking a sweat from the look you gave him.

He wanted to see more of that. He wanted to see you more.

Your gaze drifted to Jade, and you froze. Floyd brushed it off as fear. That was how people usually reacted to them, anyway. It was nothing new. He focused on the conversation with Goldfish without sparing your reaction another thought.

One sunny day, a few days after that chance meeting, Floyd saw you in the courtyard again. You were with Baby Seal—he always was—along with Crabby and Little Mackerel. The latter two stood in front of you, who sat on the edge of the fountain. Baby Seal was standing next to you with this annoyed look. Meanwhile, the Leech brother was lounging on the grass. Alchemy class bored him, so he decided to skip and bathe in the sunlight on the courtyard.

None of them seemed to notice him. Floyd watched, still bored out of his mind. He was debating on whether to spook the group or otherwise, when he heard you laugh.

You tilted your head back, letting the sun illuminate the smile on your face. It was a toothy grin, one that crinkled your eyes and emphasized the chub of your cheeks. He barely saw the color of your irises, and your unrestrained laugh echoed in the desolate courtyard. You even snorted.

You tilted your head back so much that you tipped over and fell into the fountain with a loud splash. Floyd snickered, ignoring the warmth in his chest and the flutter of his heart. Howling laughter followed your fall. Crabby clutched his stomach and doubled over. Little Mackerel held back a smile as he flailed, unsure of how to help you, in front of the fountain. Baby Seal was laughing his ass off, belly flopping on the edge of the fountain.

He decided to stand from his spot and help you, since the entire thing entertained him. Although, when he stood tall and took a step towards the fountain, he paused. You were drenched in water, from the top of your head to the tip of your leather shoes. Locks of hair stuck to your forehead and cheeks. Your uniform clung to your skin, and it looked uncomfortable. Despite all that, your smile remained.

“You assholes!” You laughed with a loud wheeze, happy and carefree with that toothy and blinding grin. He could clearly hear you laugh and sputter, even with Crabby’s and Baby Seal’s loud snickers and laughter. As he watched Little Mackerel help you—and fail, because you slipped back into the fountain—a thought nagged at his mind. 

What should I do to make Shrimpy laugh like that again?

“Hey, Shrimpy!” Floyd chirped, grin too wide and sharp to be considered friendly. Little Mackerel and Crabby stepped back, as the sophomore grabbed your arm and tugged you out of the fountain. Your hand shot out to grip the edge, while you stood from the water.

“Need a lil’ help?”

“Oh merciful Seven—” Floyd pretended not to notice how your vocabulary changed in just a few months— “thanks, but how much did you see?”

The fact that you nonchalantly accepted his help, that you didn’t flinch from him, made Floyd’s heart do somersaults and cartwheels. The corners of his lips stretched towards his ears. He squeezed your arm and watched you step out of the fountain.

Water dripped from your uniform, and Floyd observed the droplets fall from your hair and fingertips. He briefly wondered what you’d look like if he dragged you into the sea. Would you be surprised? Would you scream?

Would you laugh and call him an asshole, like what you did earlier?

“What answer do you wanna hear, Shrimpy?” He teased, still grinning and holding your arm. For some reason, Floyd didn’t want to let go.

“The one that doesn’t embarrass me, thanks.” You chuckled, despite the other three freshmen being silent spectators of this interaction. As you thanked him again and flicked the water off your hands, Floyd couldn’t help but grin wider.

Another month passed. After that admittedly hilarious outburst from Azul, you became a regular at Mostro Lounge. You visited during the weekends, even if you were wary at first. You fell into a routine, just as fast as how you picked up on the lingo in Twisted Wonderland.

You walked in during the weekends and stayed for as long as an hour and thirty minutes. (Yes, Floyd kept count.) You’d talk to either Jade or himself, depending on whoever was waiting tables at the time. Azul passed by at times to make sure you were having a good time, obviously to maintain Mostro Lounge’s good reputation. After a few visits, Floyd began to monopolize your attention by literally taking over server duty during the days you visited.

Even if he had to subtly threaten Azul with profit loss via property destruction and sabotage.

“Hey Shrimpy,” Floyd drawled, sitting across from you in one of the booths. It was a slow day today, and all you ordered was a fruit shake. A history book was opened to some page Floyd didn’t care to know. Notes littered your table, and your penmanship occupied his attention a little.

That was, until he grew bored of the sounds of pen scratching paper and the clinking dishes in Mostro Lounge.

“Hm? Yeah, Floyd?” You asked, flipping a page and jotting down something on your notebook. The tall merman pouted, before he reached over and snapped your book shut. Before you could even react, he snatched it away and lifted it far from you.

“I’m boooored. C’mon, play with me!”

Floyd grinned when you stuttered and glared at him. Your reactions always amused him, moreso whenever you were irritated or angry. Something about the way your brows furrowed and your nose scrunched made him want to tease you more. When you began to flail your arms and make animated gestures, that was when he knew you were really fed up.

“You—” You sighed and stood up, trying to reach for the book. Floyd only lifted it higher, and he didn’t even need to stand up. The corner of his lips twitched, while he watched you struggle and stretch to snatch the book back.

“Floyd, give it back! Please? I promise I’ll—”

There was a reason why he always tried to annoy you. You’d always promise him something in the end: treat him to lunch, hang out with him in the Lounge, watch his basketball matches (even if you were there for Crabby, too). It was the only way he could spend time with you without outright asking for it.

Floyd wasn’t an idiot. He knew he liked you, and it all began with that incident involving the fountain. Even Jade pointed out the many times Floyd’s face lit up every time you were around. He couldn’t ignore how much his heart pitter-pattered every time he saw you. He couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t grinning every time he caught sight of you. The way his name rolled off your tongue made him giddy enough to want to throw you over his shoulder and skip class with you.

If he had a choice, he’d drag you to the deepest parts of the sea and keep you to himself.

The book was plucked out of his hand, but your own hands were empty. You owlishly blinked, and so did Floyd. Both of you stilled, until another voice broke through the quiet hustle and bustle of the Lounge.

“It’s not nice to play with the food in front of you, Floyd.” Jade smiled, the kind he usually wore that fooled anyone into thinking he was the safer option between the two brothers. It was still funny to Floyd how everyone gravitated towards Jade, only to realize the jagged teeth behind that fake smile of his.

You took your book from Jade with an awkward smile. “Ah, thanks, even if you said something subtly backhanded…”

“It’s my pleasure, Prefect,” Jade answered, his smile never wavering in that moment. Careful hands gripped the book and slipped it off his gloved one.

Without missing a beat, you set the book aside and asked, “How are you then, Jade? You and Floyd are usually together, but I haven’t seen you in a while.”

The book remained shut, as if you weren’t trying to get it back from Floyd to study earlier. The lazy smile he had dropped into a thin line. His eyes drooped as he watched the conversation between you and his brother. On the other hand, Jade still wore that perfected smile of his with a hand over his heart.

“I’ve been doing fine. Thank you for asking.” Jade hummed before adding, “I found this lovely new specimen—another species of fungi—while on a hike recently. You were interested in mountain hiking and foraging, am I correct?”

“Oh, yeah.” You laughed, light like tinkling bells. It was a stark contrast to the boisterous laugh you usually had. Floyd’s chest tightened, and his hands clenched into fists under the table.

Letting your laughter die down, you continued with a smile, “Can I join you next time? If not that, you have terrariums, right? Can I see them some time?”

Your smile was small and practiced. Whenever you smiled, it was always toothy and the corners pushed your cheeks up. Now, it reminded Floyd of a prissy princess who had been sheltered all her life. You smiled like a noble that faced the aristocrats in hopes of a good impression. You smiled like the guests his parents had, trying to curry their favor, while he and Jade grew up.

You solely focused on his brother, as if Floyd wasn’t sitting right in front of you for the last hour. Your book and notes laid forgotten on the table. Condensed droplets began to drip from the glass, and the fruit shake was forgotten as well. Even when the edge of one of your transcripts became wet, you didn’t bother moving it away from the glass.

Floyd wasn’t an idiot. Of course, he wasn’t.

His eyes flitted towards the smile you had, softened with an emotion he didn’t want to see. Your own eyes appeared brighter, livelier than whenever you were with him. Even when you sat down, your body was angled towards Jade as you leaned on the table with crossed arms.

His mood soured in that instant, and the pitter-patter of his heart dulled into silence.

Floyd scowled, standing from the booth and shoving his hands in his pockets. You jumped a little, while Jade watched him with that carefully crafted smile. He didn’t bother explaining himself. Jade knew already, and he didn’t owe you anything. You’d only take this as Floyd sulking because his brother ruined his fun.

“Whatever,” he mumbled and trudged out of the restaurant with an air of annoyance. Everyone who happened to be in his way immediately skirted around the Leech brother. One wasn’t fast enough, and Floyd’s arm knocked the tray out of the poor student’s hands.

His scowl deepened. He loomed over the terrified boy with his jaw clenched and eyes glinting ominously. The aggravated tone rang clear in his voice when he threatened, “Watch it, or do you want me to squeeze ya, huh?”

The Heartslabyul student silently despaired about his lunch. He was too intimidated and afraid of Floyd to even squeak. The merman left Mostro Lounge with a scowl and his fists in his pockets, like a child throwing a tantrum. He didn’t bother looking over to see your reaction.

Floyd was growing irritated at the thought that you’d give all your attention to Jade. He’d rather not see you make goo-goo eyes at his own brother. He didn’t want to think too much of it. Maybe he’d find something to do; something to get rid of this itch in his chest and fists.

If he couldn’t, then Azul would just have to deal with Crowley later. He wasn’t going to sit in that cramped office and get lectured by a headmaster that preened over his and the academy’s reputation.

As Floyd stomped through the portal that led back to Night Raven College, his thoughts veered towards you and Jade. His mind conjured every memory he had of you: how you perked up every time you saw Jade; how you always asked about him, even if you thought you were subtle about it; how you subconsciously gravitated towards Jade every time he was there—

A pair of Pomefiore students skittered towards the wall as Floyd passed by. A shadow loomed over his scowling face, which accentuated the dips and curve of his mouth. His blood boiled, and his footfalls grew heavier with each step. If he went on like this, Floyd would dig potholes in the corridors with his feet alone.

He always saw your smile brighten and look dainty around Jade. Your laugh grew softer, restrained and freakishly refined. It was as if you deliberately controlled yourself to look more appealing to his brother. It was annoying Floyd more than it should.

He liked you, even when your body tipped back and doubled over from laughing so much. He liked you, even if your laugh sounded like a dying whale. He liked you, even when you snorted so hard that it hurt your nose. He liked you, even when you smacked him on the shoulder out of exasperation. He liked you so much that he was tempted to tickle you in front of Jade—just so he could hear your loud and carefree laugh again.

He wanted all of you, even if you were weak and frail and helpless. He just wanted you.

He already hated how cheesy he sounded, but his heart called out for you with each waking moment. The image of your smile overlapped with his memory of your laugh. Your name was scrawled in his mind, his heart, his lips, his very soul. Floyd already knew it was bad if he was being poetic, sappy, and romantic like Seagull.

So, why’d you like Jade? His brother could care less about you in that sense. Floyd was already annoyed that Jade moved things behind the scenes: making sure that you were alone with Floyd as much as possible. They were brothers, but none of them would ever admit that they cared for each other out loud. That didn’t stop people from thinking Jade was the more capable and reliable brother than Floyd, cunning and mischief aside.

Floyd was the one who helped you out whenever he could. He was the one who spent the most time with you in Mostro Lounge. He was the one who made a beeline towards you every time he saw even a glimpse of your head. He was the one who made you laugh and smile, especially whenever he noticed that you were down in the dumps.

He found himself in the courtyard, and his mood soured more at the sight of the fountain. The memory of you, laughing and sitting like a drenched duck in the water, overlapped with the image. Grumbling, he kicked a pebble off the path and clenched his jaw.

“Ah…” Floyd sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before ruffling the locks on the back of his head. His feet halted right in front of the fountain, with its clear and burbling water. Looking down at his reflection, he saw your face beside his—all smiles and eyes hiding behind your cheeks. His heart felt weird, as if being strangled by some invisible force that Floyd couldn’t punch nor squeeze.

He clicked his tongue and looked away from his reflection. With a frustrated groan, he mumbled to himself, “Why did it have to be Jade, Shrimpy? I’d fight tooth and nail for ya, but it’s Jade.”

With that, Floyd kicked the base of the fountain like a petulant child. A dull crack echoed in the desolate courtyard, before water gushed out of the broken stone. It spilled through the fissure, and Floyd took a step back to keep his shoes from getting drenched.

He frowned again and stalked off to find something else to occupy his time with. The afternoon sun showered the courtyard with a golden glow, which only reminded him of the time the sunlight illuminated your grinning face as you laughed.

“Why’d it have to be you, Prefect?” Floyd mumbled, shoulders sagging and foot kicking another pebble in the way. Maybe, in the near future, he’d get bored and forget about you. His heart wouldn’t do that weird pitter-patter, and his lips wouldn’t twitch into a grin with one look at you. His chest wouldn’t grow fuzzy and warm. He wouldn’t get the urge to run to where you were whenever he wanted to see you—which was every day, honestly.

Floyd hoped he would forget about you, but you were so difficult to forget. He’d never find someone else who captured his interest this much. He’d never find someone who looked so beautiful, even if the noises that left them were unattractive and childish. Even if their smile was too wide to be natural. Even if they were fascinated by him at first sight, rather than scared and intimidated.

No one else would be like you, but you just had to like his brother instead.

[marlynnofmany]

Mystery Colors

Our first delivery after a bit of shore leave at the local space station, and it was a stealth mission. The client didn't say why they needed this delivery to be handed over without catching the attention of the authority figures at their work site, but they were paying extra for it. I wasn't part of the conversation. I don't know what other details Captain Sunlight got from them to make sure this was a safe risk on our account. But she was always smart about that sort of thing, and at any rate, she assured us all that we didn't need to worry. Flying in to an unpopulated area out of sight of the main science installation would be fine. 

We trusted that, but we were curious. And since the client was human, the rest of my crewmates volunteered me for the delivery in hopes of wheedling out some tactful details. 

I didn't object. I wanted to know too. 

So I got into my exo suit, checking all the seams and settings even though the safety gear was inspected regularly. This planet wasn’t even all that dangerous according to the readings — it was mostly terraformed to an acceptable standard, though the air wasn’t quite up to standard levels yet — but this felt like a good time to be careful. I wasn’t likely to be entrusted with any secrets if I passed out from lack of oxygen.

Paint was waiting for me with the box. “We’re almost there!” she said, scaly tail swishing behind her. “Best of luck!”

“Thanks,” I said, taking the box and wondering for the umpteenth time what was inside it. The logos were all from a megastore at the space station. Zhee had picked it up, and it was already sealed when he signed for it as official intermediary courier. The person at the checkout counter hadn’t known what it held either.

The engines made their usual landing hum. Since our ship had good landing gear and reliable artificial gravity, it would have been easy to miss otherwise. Paint scuttled out of the way while I walked toward the exit. Blip and Blop peeked around a corner, frills waving in curiosity. Zhee was parked in a cross hallway, not trying to hide.

He tapped one bug leg on the floor and said, “I hope to hear any juicy secrets first.”

Before I could answer that, Mur scooted by in a quiet slap of tentacles and put in, “I’ll be in the cockpit to see if Wio can eavesdrop with the sensors.”

I left Zhee to grumble about it and threaten to tattle on Mur for bothering the pilots. We all knew Zhee was just jealous that he was too big to perch in an out-of-the-way corner. At least he wasn’t Trrili’s size; she barely fit in the cockpit at all.

The door panel said the airlock was engaged, and the air outside was as expected. I stepped through the first door with the box held tight, letting it close behind me with a shush of air that drowned out the bickering in the hallway.

The outside door opened to let in bright sunlight, alien air, and distinctly less gravity. I didn’t notice that last until I stepped out onto the ramp and nearly made a fool of myself. Caught my balance, though. I tried not to leave finger-shaped dents in the box as I hopped awkwardly down the ramp and mentally kicked myself for not reading the briefing more thoroughly. I’d been focused on the air and hadn’t noticed that the gravity was lower than I was used to.

No time to worry about that now, though: a pair of human shapes in bright red exo suits were approaching from the edge of the flat rocky area. A metal roof visible over the boulders behind them was probably their own shuttle. Everything else in sight was rocks in a range of gray-to-orange colors. A hill in the distance held tinges of green that could have been plants.

“Hello!” said the human who was one step ahead of the other. She sounded a little younger than me. Her face wasn’t visible through the reflective visor. So clandestine. “Thank you for being prompt.”

I said, “We aim to please,” and managed to stop moving without smashing into either of them. They had clearly been working here long enough to get a feel for the gravity. “Here is your package,” I said as I handed it over, “And here is the payment tablet,” I added once my hands were free. I unhooked it from my waistband and passed it to the second human.

The first was busy ripping the box open like a kid with an anticipated present.

“Oh good, it’s the right kind!” she said in relief. She set the box on the dusty ground and pulled out something that I recognized as a turbo cleaning wand, the kind usually marketed towards the parents of small children. I’d seen artists use them too, both for cleanup and for making some neat inverted-color murals.

Not wanting to sound like I was doing more than making conversation, I said, “I’ve heard those are good ones.”

“They’re definitely the fastest,” the human said. “Lemme just see if they work on this particular ink.” She opened a thigh pocket with a rip of velcro, and took out what looked like a chunk of tile with deep pink scribbles on it.

The other human finished with the payment tablet and handed it back. “They’d better work,” he said. “If not, we’re toast.”

“How come?” I asked with concern in my voice, hoping that wasn’t too much.

I shouldn’t have worried. The first human activated the wand and wiped the tile clean in one swift pass, then laughed with clear relief. “Saved! We should have just enough time to get everything before the inspectors arrive. Now we just have to hope Julian didn’t leave any more of his rude notes somewhere we haven’t found. The shopping lists and tally marks would be bad enough, but his stuff would get all three of us canned immediately.”

I looked in the direction of the large encampment I’d seen from space. “Are you working this whole place alone?”

She laughed and put the tile back in her pocket. “Oh no, we’re just the only humans here. Everybody else is a Waterwill. Did you know those guys can’t see the color magenta?”

“Really!” I said. This was news to me.

She pulled a pen out of a different pocket. “These are completely invisible if you write on a pale surface. Which has been handy for keeping track of specimens when we feel lazy, and leaving each other notes by the door..”

“…But Julian took it a bit too far,” added the other guy. “With this gravity, he jumps and writes insults on the ceiling.”

“Ah,” I said. “I see why that might not go over well with inspectors. Who are not Waterwills, I take it?”

“Nope,” said the first human as she stowed the wand back in the box then picked the whole thing up. “But they’re not coming until tomorrow, so we should be able to clean it all away in time. Even if we have to do some quiet climbing around in the middle of the night.”

“Hey, what’s that?” the other human interrupted, reaching for something else in the box. He came up with a bundle of green cloth.

“Oh!” said the first. “That’s for Julian. I’m going to say it was at the bottom of the last food shipment as an error.”

When the guy unfolded it, the cloth proved to be a T-shirt patterned in green specks of multiple shades. The side toward me had black text that said “The Best.”

But the two humans were laughing about something on the back. When they saw my confusion, the guy turned it around.

Among all those green dots were a series of orange ones that spelled out “I’m colorblind! And also an asshole.”

The first human explained to me, “Julian is actually red-green colorblind. The magenta pens were for his benefit originally, since they don’t blend with the green ones like red does, and sometimes we need to chart things in color-coding. But—”

“But the Waterwills can’t see it at all,” the second continued. “So they were retired. Officially.”

“I see,” I said. “Well. Best of luck in cleaning up his messes!”

“Thank you!” they chorused. Once the shirt was stuffed into the bottom of the box and the lid was safely shut, they gave me a wave and bounded across the low-gravity rocks toward their waiting shuttle.

I made my awkward way back up the ramp to where my alien coworkers were waiting. I was considering an impromptu color vision test for them, just to see if something bright and obvious to me was invisible someone else onboard.

But then I realized that it would lead to a contest for smell-vision, and I was absolutely rubbish at that.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[etherrreal]

"an ode to tendou's hands"

Pairing: tendou x fem!reader Genre: fluff, slight nsfw Summary: you want to be normal about your boyfriend, but how can you when he's flaunting his hands everywhere WC: 2,138 Warnings: references to you gushing, reader’s got enough hair to stick a hand in lol, reader wears a sundress A/N: dipping my toes further and further into nsfw so that maybe someday my ass will write some full-blown nsfw for y'all -Luna

When you hear people gush about their partners, they often talk about how kind they are when they bring them their favorite candy bar or buy their favorite smoothie "just because." Maybe how caring they are as they tuck them in when they're sick or detangle their hair for them in the shower. It’s always the little things that they do for them that matter the most. 

The few times they bring up their appearance, it's always the common stuff. Their hair is so fluffy and smooth, maybe their eyes are piercing, yet soft only for them. You hear them describe how their arms are so built that it makes them drool. Or they—and you’re specifically talking about your friend Eri—describe their significant other’s thigh muscles with such strange detail and precision that you’re left floating in a space between understanding and deep worry. 

But even their odd infatuations with their partner's features never compare to yours, because even when Eri gets going on her weird tangents about her boyfriend’s thighs and how she’d like for them to crush her skull like a watermelon, your other friends nod and laugh along. You’ve tested your answer on a crowd before and all you got was the loudest silence you’ve ever heard followed by someone too many moments later saying, “what?” They just didn’t get it.

You've always been embarrassed to share your real answer with your closest friends, not because they’d make you feel like a freak (derogatory), but because they’ll make you feel like a weirdo (affectionate). And while Eri can take the casual ribbing, you’re not so sure you have a thick enough skin to be able to last a quarter as long as she has. So you've settled with picking something a little more normal, like gushing about how, although your boyfriend Tendou is lean, he’s much stronger than he looks. 

They don't have to know that the real answer has you gushing elsewhere, though.

Tendou’s hands.

Two palms. Ten fingers—two of which are thumbs. Fourteen knuckles. 

They’re long. They’re slender. They reach places you can never reach with your own, like the bottom of the Pringles can.

Unlike a boyfriend’s thighs or abs, hands aren’t hidden in everyday life behind some piece of fabric. They’re constantly touching you or things around you which makes it nearly impossible to keep your focus. In previous relationships, or even in everyday life, a person’s hands didn’t catch your attention as they do now. But when you started dating Tendou, it was like a sleeper agent activated. 

The first time you took notice of his hands was at the end of your second date, after he walked you home. You both lingered in front of your apartment door, not quite ready to say goodbye to one another. He decided to take a risk, using his hand to brush some hair behind your ear—although, you’re pretty sure it wasn’t out of place to begin with—then letting his fingers trail down your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. His hand then came back up to cup your cheek, and it dawned on you that, with the way his hand stretched, he could palm your whole head like a volleyball based on length alone.

Then he sealed the deal by leaning down, his lips hovering just a hair over yours, and whispering, “Do you mind if I kiss you?” 

What always amazes you when you replay that moment in your mind is you hardly remember the kiss itself, but what you do remember is what it felt like to have his hand slip into your hair and grasp it at the roots in his excitement. How his other hand slid around your waist to pull you against his chest, fingers playing with the edge of your crop top and barely brushing against your bare skin. You had goosebumps from head to toe, leaving you with no choice but to lean on him to keep yourself upright. You were smitten from that day forward and would do anything to get him to touch you again like he did that day.

You're about 98% sure that Tendou has never noticed your infatuation—not once—because you're just that smooth. Like a fucking ninja. There's no other word to describe your actions besides subtle.

Except, if you asked Tendou, you're not even close. In fact, in his eyes, you're about as subtle as a gun.

Tendou lets you think you are because he enjoys seeing your poor attempts at hiding your obsession. The truth is he's noticed every single time your eyes drift from his face to his flailing hands as he tells you a story then snap back to his face once you feel like you've been distracted for too long. Or, when you decide to keep him company while he's testing new chocolate recipes and techniques in the kitchen, and, instead of ooh-ing and aah-ing as he pipes an intricate design on a truffle, you're more occupied with staring at his mouth as he licks the smeared chocolate on his fingertips.

God forbid he offers you a taste of chocolate he swipes from the edge of a bowl with his pointer finger—then he's the one who has to control himself when he notices your eyes gently flutter as you lick it off, the tip of your tongue flicking his fingertip. 

He doesn't really understand it, and initially, he took your distracted gaze as disinterest. He was afraid he was boring you when he was going off on tangents or when he suggested you sit by as a taste tester in the kitchen. But he soon caught on when he noticed that your eyes weren’t glazed over in boredom and staring forward with no focus at all. He could see them following his hands like a hawk, taking in every bend, twitch, or grasp. And while he did notice them glaze over occasionally, he had a feeling it wasn’t because you were bored. 

Tendou's been trying to find the right time to bring it up. He doesn't want you to think he's making fun of you or that you should be ashamed of your little fixation. Since he’s first noticed, he’s been trying to hint to you that he knows; brushing an imaginary eyelash off of your cheek, cupping your face whenever he gets the chance, trailing his fingers up your arm whenever he peers over your shoulder to look at what you're cooking. 

He’s not sure if it’s working or if it's had the opposite effect, but he has been enjoying watching you squirm in the meantime.

Then it all culminates one weekend in August.

He suggests taking a trip to Barcelona after a colleague of his recommended a little chocolate shop there that he’s been dying to try. With about an 8-hour drive from where you live, you suggest you make it a little vacation, taking off that Friday and Monday to properly enjoy it all.

The trip starts off as all of your trips do. Tendou decides to drive so you play DJ, quizzing him on certain songs and annoying him with others. You feed him some snacks so he can keep an eye on the road, purposefully playing "here comes the airplane" until he bites your fingertip like an overzealous toddler.

It dies off about 2 hours into the trip after you get back in the car from a short gas station trip. You play a more relaxed playlist, filled with instrumentals and some ballads. The only chatter from both of you is when either of you comments on the view. Otherwise, it's a comfortable silence, leaning your head on the window and watching the trees and other cars fly by. 

Your peace is disturbed when you feel Tendou’s hand slide onto your knee, giving what’s supposed to be a comforting squeeze, but feels more like a jolt to your system. Unintentionally, you jump in your seat, trying to play it off like you’re shifting to be more comfortable, but he notices. 

“You okay, baby?” Tendou asks, with a smirk you don’t see because you can’t meet his eyes. Let’s see you try to get yourself out of this one.

“Yeah, uh, your hands were just cold.”

“Oops. My bad, honey.” He squeezes your knee again as he says it, and you can only hope he doesn’t notice that you tense up. “They’ll get warm soon enough, I’m sure.”

You shoot him a quick smile, before turning to look out the passenger window, hoping that he doesn’t notice how nervous you actually are. You’re tempted to start bouncing your leg, but you can’t risk him asking any more questions. 

Eventually, you relax enough to rest your hand over his, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. You’re so lost in thought that you don’t realize that your hand started acting on its own, tracing the veins on the back of his hand and over the pronounced knuckles of his fingers. 

Tendou, of course, notices immediately. “So you like my hands, huh?”

You freeze. This isn’t how you wanted him to find out, you think as you pull your hand towards your chest like it touched an open flame. If there was ever a perfect time for the ground to suddenly open up so it can swallow you whole, this would be it. In fact, you contemplate opening the car door and tucking and rolling onto the highway just to get yourself out of this situation. 

Your diabolical red-headed boyfriend glances over at you a few times during your prolonged silence, before clearing his throat and saying, “I’ve known about your… thing for ages, you know.”

Your panic shoots out of you all at once. “You knew?! When? How!? I’m so lowkey about it!”

“Well, you don’t exactly make it subtle,” he chuckles. “How else would you be able to explain why you either jump out of your skin or completely shut down whenever I touch you? Or when I can't even make eye contact with you during our conversations because you're so focused on my hands?"

"...Trauma and social awkwardness?"

Tendou shoots you an incredulous look before returning his eyes to the road. “First of all, if it was trauma, we probably would’ve talked about it during the years we’ve been together. Second, you? Socially awkward with me? You’re the one who has no problem pooping while I’m showering, so there’s no way.” 

Your mouth opens and shuts repeatedly, failing to produce a good enough excuse. Instead, you turn your head far enough that you can’t see him from the corner of your eye anymore, but you sure can hear him cackle because of his effect on you.

You still refuse to make eye contact when you feel his hand trail up your thigh, barely making it to the hem of your dress before making his way back down to your knees, his fingers leaving trails of heat in its wake.

“What do you like about them, hm?” His fingers trail back up, playing with the hem of your dress and inching it higher. “Is it how long my fingers are? How gentle they are when they caress the skin of your thigh? Probably giving you goosebumps, huh?” 

And they absolutely are, along with a shudder up your spine with how low his voice has dropped. 

“Or maybe how talented they are, like when they curl just right?” His hand finally dips under the fabric, brushing his pinky against the edge of your panties. "Oooh, no safety shorts today? How risque! What are you preparing for, honey?"

"Nothing, I just—”, you take in a shakey breath as you feel his pinky play with the edge of the lace,”—didn't want to sweat with the extra layer."

"That's what the AC is for, honey. Are ya sure there's no other reason?"

"No. I mean, yes, or—wait. Fuck." Your head feels like it’s full of cotton, your mouth too dry to speak. Your eyes are unable to focus on anything at the moment, the leg he’s not touching restlessly bouncing. You glance over at the time displayed on your phone that’s mounted to the dashboard and calculate that you’ve got about 4 hours left before you reach your destination, and that’s when you realize that you can’t wait until you reach your hotel.

You need him. Now.

“Can you— Over there— Just—” You stumble over your words, unable to form a coherent sentence as you point frantically over to the side of the highway.

“You want me to pull over onto the shoulder?” He says smugly, not even sparing you a glance.

“God, yes, please.” 

He steers the car abruptly to the right, and you’re in his lap before he can even properly put the car in park, hands all over each other.

Written by: Luna you've got an @; we've got a taglist~

[sappy-seresin]

Fawn (B. Bradshaw)

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x female!reader

Warning: hints at domestic abuse, hints at toxic relations, mentions of injury, angst, light cursing.

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is enamored by the Hard Deck's newest waitress. Taking notice of a shift in your demeanor, he finds himself wanting to get to the bottom of your newfound skittishness.

Series Theme Song: I’ll Be Around by Garrett Kato

Word Count: 5.8k

A/n: MY WORK IS NOT TO BE POSTED ELSEWHERE, especially without consent. Do not steal the work of other writers, thank you.

Gif creds: @mads-weasley

You've always carried yourself with elegant poise, your shoulders high with delicate confidence as you strut your way through life. That’s the first thing Bradley noticed about you, and he’s continued appreciating further the more your presence sealed itself into his life. You’ve been working at the Hard Deck for nearly six months now, and subsequently have earned yourself a space in the Dagger Squad friend group, without being a naval officer. Your space in their lives is a lot like Penny’s, other than the fact that you’re a few years younger than all of them. That fact has had all of them feeling protective over you in their own merit. Each of them have done their fair share of looking out for you, always stepping in when someone was heckling you at the bar or pulling you into the groups antics when you seemed overwhelmed on a busy night. Penny always watches from afar, glad to see you smiling among her favorite squadron.

Admittedly, Bradley loves how easily you melted into the group, and appreciates that everyone seems to care about you nearly as much as he does. He’d never admit it out loud, but you’re the first person he looks for when he enters the Hard Deck. His eyes automatically manage to plant themselves wherever you are when he walks in, an elegant smile taking over his face at the simplest sight of you. You always return the gesture, making a point to pour his drink before he even has the chance to order.

Recently though, your poise has dimmed. Your smiles never quite reaching your eyes when you cater to the aviators beck and call. Bradley attributed the change as stress, at first. The summer months are some of the busiest at the bar and it's your first time experiencing this level of rush. The moment he started picking up on your newfound skittishness, he couldn't shake the feeling that there's more going on than being overworked.

Your confidence is now sporadic, fleeting as you jump at loud noises and sudden movements, always playing it off with a lighthearted joke when any of them question it. He notices the way your smiles falter as soon as the groups focus shifts elsewhere, the facade slipping away when you're sure no one's watching. Yet, Bradley always is, unbeknownst to you, watching your every move. He catches every time you gulp to gain composure and the way your knuckles flash white with how hard you grip your tray after being jostled by a passing customer.

Tonight's no different as Bradley's kept his eyes trained on you from the moment he walked in. He watches you slip through the room in a fawn-like state, doe-eyes jumping around the room as you fade in and out of the shadows. Unlike your old, confident self that always managed to light up the typically muggy space.

“What’s got you lost in thought, Rooster?” Natasha’s voice cuts through his staring, pulling his attention from where you’re delivering drinks across the bar. He glances at her and Bob, who’re both staring back at him curiously.

“Does she seem off to you?” He asks simply, letting his eyes trickle back to you. Natasha’s eyebrows knit together before she follows his gaze, realization filling her immediately.

“Y/n?” She thinks out loud, accepting Bradley’s curt nod as a yes. “I mean, sure. I've noticed she’s been a little more skittish and accident prone than usual lately. What about it?"

Bradley shrugs, sipping his drink, not wanting to overshare a story that isn't his. Though, his mind flashes to the last time you'd spoken, affirming that he'd been right about foul play behind the scenes. Even after you forced another lie to keep yourself from admitting the truth to him in the bar just days ago. "I just feel like something isn't right." They fall into silence, Bob and Natasha accompanying Bradley in watching you. Each searching for any signs of foul play, or make any observation that could give insight on what's going on. The truth is, Bradley knows something isn't right. You confirmed his suspicions three days ago, though you refused to vocalize that he's right.

With his eyes trained on you, Bradley recounts the times you've proven to be 'accident prone' the past several weeks. Wonder fills his brain at memories of you brushing off seemingly small injuries as if they were normal, though you'd barely gotten a scratch in the previous months he'd known you. Bradley's mind flashes to the first time he questioned an injury, his eyes fixated on the soft wrap adorning your wrist as you wiped the counter nearly a month and a half ago. His hand clenches around his drink as he's now able to pinpoint your cover stories, though he has yet to figure out the culprit behind you fabricating those stories.

“What happened there?” Bradley asked, gesturing towards your bandaged hand. His eyes raking over you while you blinked at him for a second, letting a sheepish grin meet your lips.

“Oh this?” You joked, raising your hand absentmindedly. “It’s nothing really. I slipped during a game of one on one and caught myself weird. It looks worse than it is, doc says I need to be in the brace for a few weeks so it’ll heal.” Your voice was light and bubbly, but something in your eyes had Bradley unconvinced that your story was factual.

He took a swig of his beer, clearing his throat as he met your eyes again. Opting not to question you, he smiled. “I guess you need to work on your game.” The gentle laugh you released sent shivers down his spine as he watched you.

“I guess I do,” you agreed, topping him off with another beer before leaving to serve another customer without looking back.

He recounts the second time now. He caught you wincing when you bent down to grab a fresh case of beer you were moving to the back. your tight intake of breath had Bradley feeling uneasy.

“You alright, Darlin’,” his voice showcased the concern he’d been feeling. You grimaced at him, gladly accepting the hand he offered to help you up.

“Yeah,” you breathed, discomfort evident when the case slid against your rib cage. “I tweaked a muscle at the gym last night. Just a bit sore is all.” Your cheeks tinted pink at the twinkle in his eye with all his attention solely focused on you. He pushed himself from his position at the bar, inserting himself behind the counter before lifting the case from your grasp with ease. Your sheepishness grew when he leaned to brush past you, grab the last case before glancing over his shoulder at you.

“Where do you need this?” You gaped at him for a moment, not expecting him to do the work for you, but collected yourself quickly. Leading him to the back instead of responding.

“Here’s perfect,” you told him, gesturing where the other cases were already stacked. He obliged, putting the cases in their designated spot, shooting you a content smile. “Thanks for doing that.”

“Not a problem, darlin’,” he waved off, knowing fully well he’d move a thousand more cases if you needed him to. You blushed again, the gesture melting his heart in the same way it does every time it graces your cheeks.

“Well, I appreciate it,” you reached out to squeeze his arm, the movement making the sleeve of your t-shirt slide up in the slightest. Bradley swears he saw a finger-shaped bruise peeking out just below the worn fabric. He eyes flickering back to your face quickly to keep you from noticing he’d seen anything. “My tweaked muscles do too.”

His mouth felt dry as he studied you, mind reeling about what's hiding behind the inconspicuous lie. Your hand dropped when his grin faltered, suddenly worried that you'd made him uncomfortable.

“I guess you need to work on your form,” he knew he was wearing his emotions on his face, though his tone remained intentionally light. Though he wanted to inspect the blemishes hiding under your sleeve, he knew it wasn’t his place. Mentally though, he pulled you against his chest and gently assured you that he’ll protect you from whoever gave you those bruises.

Your face dropped at his words, hands fidgeting against the fabric of your jeans. “I guess I do,” you agreed, deja’vu hitting you after repeating the words you'd spoken to him weeks prior. You hesitated, realizing that his subtle repetition means that, to a certain degree, he knows your explanations don’t match the truth. The thought of him not believing you made the room shrink around you, blurring Bradley’s figure with the anxiety of him finding out. “I should get back to the bar.” Though you were talking to him, the statement seemed to be whispered to no one before you brushed past him with a forced smile.

The last time he questioned you was just three days ago, and the memory of the sight of you has his hand strangling his glass, his blood boiling when he catches sight of your split lip from across the bar.

He'd been dismayed by the fact that you were, not so subtly, ignoring everyone in the squad that night. He noticed how you always kept your back towards them, sending another server to their table whenever they tried flagging you down. He lost sight of you for awhile, though his eyes never stopped scanning the room, hoping to pinpoint your figure assisting customers somewhere in the crowded room. He thought you left after ten minutes of gruel searching. The belief had his shoulders feeling heavy, his mind reeling with questions as to why you'd been silently swerving everyone all night.

His attempts to find you were forgotten as he came to terms with the fact that you didn't want to be found. Until he excused himself to go to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect himself to escape the thoughts of you.

The plan averted the second he gripped the bathroom door handle, the thick wood flung open before he'd even had a chance to pull. A string of apologies left your lips before you froze, realizing that Bradley was the one you'd nearly taken out with the door.

"Y/n, what-" His words caught in his throat after getting a good look at your face. You gaped at him like a deer caught in headlights, showcasing a bruised cheek and split lip that had him prepared to blow a gasket. His expression tightened as he scanned over the rest of you for anymore blemishes, though there wasn't anything else out of the ordinary. You let the door close with a soft 'smack' unable to cover your stunned demeanor. "What happened to your face?" He cut straight to the point, itching to find the "someone" that hurt you.

You opened your mouth to speak but he waved his hand to stop you.

"Another basketball game or a mishap in the gym?" A gentle sarcasm graced his voice, his eyes indicating that you can't get out of this one without telling the truth. His reference back to your past excuses made your hands shake anxiously.

You blinked at him, pointing a pleading look in his direction. Knowing he wasn't going to drop it, your shoulders deflated, though you weren't ready to accept defeat just yet. Lifting your head high, you wiped the shock from your face and replaced it with tenacity.

"Nasty spill while surfing yesterday," you quipped, no evidence of hesitation in your tone as you blatantly lied through your teeth. You hoped he would respond in the same way he had the last two times you found yourself in these subtle moments of confrontation. Wanting him to crack a lighthearted joke about working on your drop-in's, but you knew he wouldn't so you continued. "My board smacked me right in the face before I could stop it."

He sighed in frustration, ripping at his neat curls before dropping his hand again. You flinched in surprise, unknowingly giving him more belief that his suspicions were right. "Now you're just blatantly lying to me," he sighed, relaxing his face so you could see the sadness in his eyes. "Y/n, if someone's hurting you, I need you to tell me. You don't have to manage this on your own, and honestly, I hate that you don't feel like you can trust me. Let me help you."

"There's nothing for you to help with," you immediately insisted, though your teary eyes told him a different narrative. "I'm just clumsy is all." There was deep conviction weaved in your weak explanation, paired with an unwillingness to shed light on the truth. Which was that your boyfriend, Tanner has a short temper. His latest outburst being the cause of your battered surface and spirit.

"Y/n," Bradley pleaded, stepping closer to you, but you shuffled a step back.

"I have to get back," you rejected his advancement, brushing past him without another glance. He'd been frozen in defeat for the minutes following the chance encounter, staring in the direction you'd retreated with a heavy heart. Shaking himself off, he entered the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, hoping it was enough to rid his face of the worry lines wrinkling his forehead after speaking to you. Though he wanted to find you when he made his way back to the table, he forced himself to sit down, knowing you wouldn't speak to him about the topic and further.

The rest of the squad is seated at the table by the time Bradley's able to pull himself out of his head. Mickey tips his head at Bradley upon noticing he'd tuned back into the conversation for the first time since Mickey had sat down. Bradley musters a wink in Mickey's direction, bringing his cup to his lips to soothe the dryness of his throat, though his eyes subconsciously trickle over to you, mind reeling on how to get you to tell him the truth.

A loud crash sounds from across the bar awhile later, interrupting everyone’s attention away from the story Coyote was telling. Bradley had managed to distract himself from his thoughts enough to actually enjoy the night with the squad, periodically laughing as everyone spouts off ridiculous stories.

Bradley’s eyes flit over the room, expecting to find an old drunk struggling to pull themself off the ground, or maybe even the beginning stages of a brawl. What he doesn’t expect to find is you, standing frozen in place with your face resembling a ghosts. The second you squat down to begin picking glass up off the floor, Bradley’s moving to break the space to help you, eyes caught on the man towering over you with an infuriated expression.

“Where the hell have you been?” The man’s voice rings in Bradley’s ears once he’s close enough to hear. “I’ve been calling for four days, why haven’t you answered?”

“You broke my phone,” you snip. Your annoyed tone contradicts the trembling of your hands as they clumsily gather jagged shards into your hands. “I haven’t had the time to get a new one.”

“Everything okay, Y/n,” Bradley cuts in, sizing up the guy in front of him as you look at him for the first time in days. The man's got a few inches on Bradley, but he’s far from intimidating. The stranger clenches his jaw at the sight of him, his lips curving into an arrogant sneer as he puffs out his chest in Bradley's direction.

“Y/n’s fine,” he answers for you, balling his hands into tight fists. “Right, baby?” The nickname makes Bradley’s skin feel like it’s on fire due to the way it drips off the man’s tongue in a sickly sweet manner. Bradley's known you have a boyfriend for awhile. He was disappointed to find out after Hangman had jokingly tried his chances with you. Your admission of being taken was the sole hold up on him outing his feelings for you, but the sight of the guy shooting daggers at you makes his skin crawl. No man should look at his girl in the way this guy's looking at you.

Bradley watches your hesitant nod, your eyes barely ghosting over him as Penny slides a broom into your hand, helping you off the floor. You quietly thank her, gently assuring her that you’re okay, before returning your attention to cleaning the mess. Clearly wanting nothing more than for your boyfriend to be anywhere but here causing a scene. Penny observes the three of you, mentally weighing whether or not to respect your assurances that you have the situation under control. One nod from Bradley is enough for her to return to her spot behind the bar, assisting the few customers that aren't watching the altercation unfold.

Growing more irate with your lack of attention, the man takes a step toward you. "You want to look at me while I'm talking to you?" Bradley's blood boils at the malice directed at you, his instincts forcing him to step closer to you as well, ready to jump in if he tries to lay as much as a finger on you.

"Tanner, you need to leave. You can't just come in here, guns a-blazing, while I'm working and expect the conversation to go well while you're causing a scene," there's a waver to your voice when you say his name, your attempt to remain composed is only half effective when your eyes jump back to the floor after catching Tanner's icy appearance.

"Where the hell else am I supposed to find you when you're obviously doing everything in your power to avoid me," Tanner snaps, his face glowing red with anger. "I tried your apartment four times and you were never home. So, where the hell have you been?" You instinctively flinch when he raises his hand, shocking Bradley into registering that Tanner's the culprit to blame for your split lip and bruised cheek. Your reaction to him walking into the bar, and now flinching at his sudden movements, is enough affirmation of what Bradley previously suspected.

"Alright man, she told you to leave, so it's time for you to go," Bradley's speaking on autopilot now, stepping forward enough to place his hand on Tanner's chest to keep him from advancing any closer to you.

Tanner sneers at Bradley, his gaze falling to the hand planted on his chest. "I suggest you get your hands off me, before I make you," he snarls, shooting Bradley his best intimidating glare before contorting his face in understanding. "So that's what you've been doing the last few days." He backs out of Bradley's grasp, looking at you with a fake humored expression.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bradley's eyes follow your voice, noticing the way your eyebrows furrow together in confusion.

"You've been screwing him, haven't you," Tanner accuses pointing a finger at Bradley. "I've been looking all over town for you and you've been fooling around with this prick. Dude, you're wasting your time. She's not even worth it."

Bradley interrupts before you can discount Tanner's words, refusing to let this piece of garbage tarnish your character. "She's worth more than you can comprehend, clearly. I can assure you that she's not fooling around with me, or anyone else for that matter. I know her well enough to know that she wouldn't cheat, even if it's warranted for a guy like you."

"A guy like me," Tanner replays those words, emphasizing them while he gestures toward himself, feigning surprise. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean," Bradley quips, narrowing his brows. He's surprised when Tanner raises his eyebrows, urging him to voice his thoughts. "A guy that's dumb enough to lay a hand on a woman." You suck in a breath at the declaration, your eyes flying to watch Tanner's ego take a hit at the fact that he's been caught. You shudder, knowing full well that Tanner being caught means that your lies are out in the open now.

"My girl, my business," Tanner shrugs, "You're way out of line buddy, and I suggest you-"

“Do we have a problem here,” Bradley’s glad to hear Jake’s voice for once, some of the tension in his own chest alleviating at his colleagues authoritative tone. Jake stands tall as he positions himself in front of your shaken figure, his pointed gaze fixed solely on Tanner. He makes a point to flash his toned biceps by crossing his arms over his chest to add to his hard exterior, letting his eyes do plenty more talking while he sizes Tanner up.

“That’s up to him,” Bradley responds, nodding his head towards Tanner, who looks seconds away from throwing a punch.

“This is so like you, Y/n,” Tanner laughs bitterly, shaking his head. “Letting your friends save you from your own battles instead of handling them yourself like an adult. You get off on being the damsel in distress, don't you?” He's glaring at you over Jake's shoulder, seemingly unfazed by the aviator acting as a human shield.

"Y/n's more than capable of handling herself," Jake assures Tanner, tightening his expression. "But here at the Hard Deck, we have a strict "no harassing women" policy, and you're disrupting the peace." Jake's eyes fall on Reuben and Javy who are now on standby behind Tanner, prepared to restrain him if necessary. Reuben gives him a curt nod, winking at you for a little extra encouragement. They've got you covered. "Now, you have two options. You can either walk yourself out of the bar, and leave my friend Y/n here alone. Or, I'll drag you out and let Rooster have his way with you." Jake pauses again to give Tanner a second to process what he said. "I can assure you that only the former is going to end well for you."

"Now you're threatening me? You seriously think I'm afraid of a few boys in pansy ass navy uniforms?" Tanner's expression grows more manic with his incredulous words, unable to keep himself from chuckling in disbelief.

The response is enough to make Jake snap, his arms falling to his sides as he swiftly nods at Javy and Reuben as a cue for them to move. "Alright, parties over buddy." Tanner thrashes the second the men intercept him, easily dragging him towards the door.

"You bitch," Tanner shouts, eyes locked on you while he lamely tries freeing himself from their grasp. He has a clear shot of you now that Jake's not planted in front of you. Instead, he's trailing behind the three of them as a form of damage control if a last line of defense if necessary. "You'll pay for this."

Bradley shifts to dart in Tanner's direction, his slow burning anger transforming into full-blown rage at the mans threat toward you. Though, his movements freeze when a hand grasps his forearm, his fiery eyes meeting your tearful ones as the ruckus in the room fades from his ears. The room around him spirals out of focus with you being all that he sees as he struggles to refrain from ripping away from you to beat Tanner until he forgets your name.

Your touch is feathery while you blear at him. He swears he's going to light on fire until you utter the only request that could possibly cool him down. "Please, stay with me." Bradley immediately returns to a grounded state, the thoughts of giving Tanner a piece of his mind dimming while you wordlessly beg him not to leave you alone. "Please, Bradley." Those words are all it takes for him to break the space, shamelessly pulling you against his chest to shield you from anymore hurt. You fall against him in exhaustion, your hands fisting the soft Hawaiian button up he's wearing to give yourself more assurance that he's there.

"I'm not going anywhere," he murmurs into your hair after a few moments of holding you. You're sniffling into his chest while the atmosphere of the bar returns to normal, the onlookers suddenly feeling wrong about watching you break in Bradley's embrace.

Bradley easily flags Penny down with an urgent look, grateful that she stops what she's doing to assist him. "I need to get her out of here," he informs her in a hushed voice once she's close enough to hear. She wordlessly nods in understanding, sadness crossing her features at the sight of you practically rattling in his arms. "The glass is all in one place and just needs to be thrown away."

"I've got it covered, go," she encourages him, noticing that the three who'd taken Tanner outside have yet to return. "I'll have Pete pull your truck around back so you don't have to worry about any confrontations."

"Thanks Penny," Bradley hums, making sure not to jostle you too much while passing his keys to her. You lift your head to thank her as well, mustering a delicate smile as she carefully squeezes your arm in reassurance.

"Take care of my girl, Rooster," she commands lightheartedly, but he picks up on the weight behind her statement.

"Of course," he breathes, running his hand up your back to get your attention. "Ready to go, darlin'?" You bob your head in response, itching to get out of the sticky bar after having far too much attention on you. The interaction with Tanner replays in the back of your mind while Bradley guides you toward the back door with his hand rested on the small of your back.

Pete already has the Bronco parked by the back door when you guys reach the exit. He pulls the door open just before Bradley's able to reach it, stepping aside to let you two pass before bowing his head at Bradley.

"Appreciate the help, Mav," Bradley affirms, which Pete just shrugs off as a silent way of telling Bradley it's the least he could do. Pete makes sure you're both in the car before walking back inside, sympathy overtaking him at the image of you deflating in your seat.

The car ride is comfortably silent outside of natural road noise. The fact that Bradley has no idea where you live dawned on you about ten minutes into the drive, but you don't bring yourself to ask where he's taking you. Preferring not to be anywhere that Tanner can find you.

Your friendship hasn't gone much farther than hanging out when he visits the bar, other than the few times Natasha invited you to meet everyone at her place when you got off. Oh, and the movie night everyone had at Bob's when you offered to be their DD when they'd still been around by last call. Yet, you trust Bradley enough to feel at ease as he navigates the nearly vacant streets of San Diego.

"We're here," Bradley announces, putting the Bronco in park after pulling into his driveway. He glances at you with a comforting smile, rushing to hop out so he can open your door for you. You gracefully accept the hand he offers you, climbing out of the truck timidly. His hand finds a home on the small of your back again, acting as a guide while he leads you to the front door and lets you both in.

"Your place?" You think out loud, as he unlocks the door, gesturing for you to enter before him. He grins, suddenly feeling sheepish as he drops his keys on the small table next to the door.

"Yeah," he nods, scratching his neck. "I figured you shouldn't go home. Is this okay? I can take you somewhere else if you want."

"This is perfect," he blows the air out of his cheeks at your assurance, making a point to lock the door before guiding you to the living room. He gestures to the couch, which you gladly plop down on, relishing in the plush comfort of the cushions while Bradley watches you.

"Can I get you anything? There's water, tea, and probably even a few beers left from the last time the guys came over," Bradley curses himself for sounding so soft, though you don't seem to mind.

"Water would be great," your supportive smile is the first Bradley's seen all night, sending his stomach twisting in knots as he retreats to the kitchen. While he's gone, you take time to study the living room, your smile widening at the old family photos with his parents along with various pictures of the squad scattered across the shelves. The room is tidy and smells subtly of cologne, it's coziness urging you to melt further into the couch.

Bradley freezes in the doorway, secretly admiring how cozy you look in the safety of his house. I'm screwed, he thinks to himself, shaking his head to rid himself of being awestruck by you. You glance in his direction at the sound of his feet shuffling across the floor, graciously accepting the glass he slides in your hand.

"Thank you," you whisper, clearing your throat after taking a sip of the cool water before placing the glass on the coffee table in front of you. Your body stretches back into the couch as Bradley fills the space next to you, making a point to leave enough room so that you don't feel claustrophobic.

A thick silence falls over the room, neither of you knowing what to say now that you're alone. The impending conversation weighs on both of your shoulders while the two of you look everywhere other than at each other. Bradley speaks after several moments of grueling silence, unable to bare the elephant in the room.

"I'm so sorry for not vocalizing my suspicions sooner," the apology surprises you, not having anticipated the softness of his response. Part of you assumed he was going to be angry with you for not fessing up and asking for help when you had the chance. "I mean, I know you don't play basketball, and then I saw those bruises on your arm, but I didn't feel like it was my place to pry. I should've just said something before he had more chances to hurt you." He frowns at the newest blemish on your lip, scabbed but still fresh with only being a few days old. The bruise on your cheek has faded into a dull yellowish green, time giving it enough time to kickstart the healing process.

"It's my own fault. I was dumb to ever get involved with him," you croak, downcast eyes trained on the floor. "My friends told me he was a walking red flag and I didn't listen. I willingly fell into his trap on my own accord. So please, don't apologize for not saying anything sooner because it's been my fault all along. Your questions were all I allowed you to do."

"Hey," Bradley whispers, wordlessly asking for consent to cup your jaw in his hand, his thumb gently swiping the tear gliding down your blemished cheek after you nod in approval. "None of what he did to you is your fault. You hear me? I don't want to hear you blaming yourself for a man that didn't know the first thing about treating you right." Bradley's voice is gentle as he addresses you, not leaving any room for you to feel insecure in being with him. He never wants you to feel small again, and you won't as long as he has anything to do with it. "He had no business laying his hands on you in a way that misconstrued love as violence. The blame is solely for him to carry, not you. Okay?" His eyes plea that you absorb everything he's telling you. He needs you to understand that Tanner is the perpetrator at fault, not you. The tears flooding your cheeks are indication that you're grasping what he's telling you, but he has to be sure.

"I need to know that you're hearing me Darlin'," the statement is more of a request as he wipes at more of your tears, his heart quenching at the subdued sob that forces its way out of you. All you can do is nod, not trusting your voice. "I need to hear you say it."

"I'm hearing you, Bradley," you sniffle, stammering over the knot in your throat. "The blame isn't mine." With that, more choked sobs erupt from your body, encouraging Bradley to pull you into his lap without caring whether it's the appropriate move or not. Your lack of opposition assures him that you're okay with him holding you while you come unglued in his embrace for the second time.

Countless encouragements that he's got you and that you're going to be okay quietly float from his lips while you melt into him. The innocent closeness brings you a small sense of the relief you're craving. His softness allows you to feel safe enough to simply let yourself accept the truth and feel all of the emotions you've been numbing as a form of self preservation for the last few months. For the first time in months, the breaths filing your lungs aren't clouded by heaviness because an inescapable weight has lifted from your chest. You bask in the weightlessness of your breathing, the sensation bringing a fresh round of relieved tears. Your sobs transition into meek sniffles as Bradley patiently comforts you, his own tension releasing when he senses that you're going to be okay.

"Thanks for rescuing me," you murmur after a few moments of quiet, thankfully allowing him to rid your cheeks of the final evidence of tears. Bradley loses his own breath when his eyes fixate on you again. Though your eyes are bloodshot and glazed from crying, cheeks flushed with a delicate pink tint, Bradley swears you've never looked more beautiful.

His hand tenderly cups your cheek again, his eyes the softest they've been all night as he drinks the sight of you in. The rational side of him wants to curse himself for being so enthralled by you at such an unfortunate time. You just experienced one of the most humiliating nights of your life, and spent the last twenty minutes broken in his arms for God's sake. But all rationality escapes him as he soaks you in, completely defenseless against the relentless adoration beating against his ribcage.

"I'll rescue you any time it's needed Darlin'," he promises, and you know he means it. You bask in the comfort of his arms for the rest of the night, enjoying the lighthearted conversation and the way he seems comforted by your presence. In the dim light of the room, with a TV show softly playing quietly in the background, you eventually lull to sleep, Bradley's steady heart beat being the last thing you remember before succumbing to the delicate darkness.

-----------------

A/N: That's it!! My first TGM fic is on the books!! I've got various works in the making, but this one flowed so naturally as I was writing and I'm ecstatic to share it.

There's a part two dancing in the back of my mind, but I'll let feedback and continued inspiration decide whether or not the story continues or ends here.

PART TWO IS IN PROGRESS

Tagging some moots/pages that I enjoy. Feel free to request whether or not you'd like to continue being tagged in future fics <3

Tags: @glen-powells @bradleybeachbabe @writingshae @happilycameron @rosiahills22 @roosterforme @avaleineandafryingpan @fandomxpreferences @fanboygarcia

[yaut-jaknowit]

The Moon Will Shine On Us Again

Pairing: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3512

Warning: slight gore, gun shots, blood, reader is injured.

Summary: There's a knock on your door. No one should be here, let alone at your door and wanting entrance. The mother and her knew born needed to be protected. You weren't going to let them be fed to the wolves. You grab your gun and face whoever is at your door. Deadly force is needed.

Author Note: From high demand. Glad you guys are loving it! Don't worry all! Here's the second part. I might also write a third part as well. Thank you for the support as well! Greatly appreciate it.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 (you're here)

This had quickly become a life or death situation. On the outskirts, you didn’t know why you were willing to stick your neck out. Someone wanted the mother, wanted her either dead or alive. They had tracked her through the forest of your property and all the way up your cabin. A place deep in the forest. Not somewhere a person would just stumble across.

In its bony cage, your heart pounded, on the verge of escaping and flopping around on the ground. To steel your nerves, you clenched your teeth together and tip-toed out of the room. The door was closed behind you, to seal away what evidence you could. Anything to give the mother more time to escape… if it came down to that.

What were you doing?! You barely know how to use a gun, let alone the one in your hand! And if those people were able to down a creature of her size and threatening nature, you shuttered. What would they do to you?

Here goes your life. You pushed off of the bedroom door and walked over to the door. Every creaky floorboard you knew in the place was missed in each step. You didn’t want them to know you were coming towards them, just in case; nor let them know someone was inside. Despite your truck parked out front, maybe they’ll believe either the creature killed you or you’re off on the property.

A few steps from the door, on the edge of the living, you stood with your loaded gun. The weapon shaking in your hand.

“Open the door!” a male voice demanded from the outside and pounded on the door. A lump instantly formed in your throat. “We know its in there.” Your eyes widen, breath catching. Everything changed at the man’s words. If they knew… they also knew someone, a person, was inside too, harboring her. You forcefully swallowed the lump and flicked off the safety. Then, you readied yourself for whatever action they take next.

A muffled of exchanged words came from two people. The door groaned and rattled from a powerful strike. You stumbled back, legs hitting a chair in the living room. Another bash against the door.

Unfortunately for you, the wood that made up the door was twice as old as you. It’s seen better days, been through horrid winters and soaking summer. The third hit caused the wood to splinter and give, leaving a mess on your once clean floors. You bristled and aimed the weapon in hand at the first figure you saw through the broken door. “Leave!” you shouted at the top of your lungs, voice, thankfully, not cracking from the force.

Yet, the weapon wasn’t true in its aim. The barrel twitching from the nerves controlling your hands. “Get the fuck off of my property!” You probably weren’t the most scariest thing on the block. Just a lone person who draws for most of their free time, holding a pistol but shaking too much.

Two people stood on your red porch, each holding a rifle of their own. Other weapons that you didn’t pay attention to adorn their body. One was wearing a ski mask of sorts, reasonable for the weather. Said man raised a brow and chuckle, shaking his head. “What are you going do? Shoot us?” he scoffed, brushing off the threat of you pointing a gun at them.

The other figure, dress similar but only had a cloth covering hi nose and below laughed with his partner. Then, they stopped at the same time, becoming stern. Ski mask guy took a step into the house, head scanning around. “Nice place you have here-“ his gaze fell back onto you “-shame if anything happened to it.” You swallowed thickly at the threat.

“Now, let’s stop this boring banter. Where is it? You give it up, you’ll get a fat paycheck to stay quiet, and you won’t get a bullet to the head. Fair deal?” the man with the neck gaiter offered, voice honeyed but uncaring. It felt like it didn’t matter the option, they’ll happily put you down.

Your chest start to hurt from how hard it pounded. Is this where you died? For an unknown creature who is a mother? What has your life become? You shook your head and steeled your grasp on the weapon. “Last warning: get out of my house!” you voice nearly wavered, about to show your true emotions. Though, you could bet a hundred dollars they already knew.

One of them snorted, the other shrugged his shoulders then raised his rifle. Before he had a chance, knowing they would kill you if you didn’t shoot first, you pulled the trigger. Despite being a pistol, you weren’t prepared for any knockback it gave. Your aim definitely wasn’t true.

That didn’t stop you. Both of them ducked down, not expecting you to fire first, but you didn’t stop. Bullets flew violently through the sky, possibly hitting their marks or not. In all honesty, you shot blindly at the two.

Once the ringing in your ears stopped and the trigger just clicked, empty, you dropped your arms. Each man was collapsed on the ground. One had a large pool of blood around him, body lifeless on the stained wood floor. His other partner was shakily breathing, gasping for air.

The pistol was promptly dropped. Your hands covered your mouth as you stumbled away from the murder scene you had created. Sobs raked your fragile body. What had you just done?! Your back met some soft. The couch. You rested heavily against, blankly staring at the two men on the floor. Blood. From bullet hole you caused from shooting them, killing them. You… oh my god.

Tears poured down your face. You couldn’t believe what you had just did to two people. Yeah… they weren’t nice people, they wanted to hurt a mother… whatever she is. They had hurt her already. And they wanted to hurt you, kill you. Silence you about this situation.

Why?

The question of the year: why?

In the haze of you distraught, you held onto what sanity you had left. Your body was shaking worse than leaf in the aftermath. Either from the adrenaline… or something else.

As the powerful chemical waned, you hissed at the pain in your thigh and glanced down. A dark patch stained your pants. Blood. Your legs nearly gave out at the sight. They shot you! “Fuck!” you cursed and clutched onto the couch tighter. Your thoughts were far too wild to comprehend. What do you even do?! You sobbed harder, on the verge of a total breakdown.

Through the fog and craziness of your thoughts that drowned out nearly everything, you heard the tall tale sign of the floorboards. You spun around, ready to face your attacker. But it was just the humanoid creature. She moved softly, not as if she was scared, but mindful of her steps and movements. Or like she knew what she was doing.

All you could do was watch as she, without the green, sticky blob, stepped up to your trembling form. Her piercing, purple gaze scanned over you, from head to toe. From there, she stops on the blood coming from your thigh. The wound hurting worse over time. The mother peered past you and observed the scene behind you.

She must have deemed it safe and turned her gaze on you. As the seconds ticked by, you couldn’t handle the weight on your injured leg. The couch became your crutch. A motion she easily notice.

A hand wrapped around your wrist, easily engulfing the limb, nothing more than her holding a stick. The mother tugged you towards her before dragging you along, back towards the bedroom. Unable to think straight, you aimlessly let her take you back to the room and had you sat down on the bed. The bed, a usual comfort, did nothing to sooth you.

You began to curl up, closing yourself off, legs drawing up to your chest despite the pain. Your hands gripped at your hair and tugged on the strands. “I killed someone… I killed,” you murmured to no one in particular.

“Oh my god!” Your head whipped up and found the mother’s eyes on you. “I killed them! I-I… what have I done!” Then, you tried to get off of the bed and pace. But a sturdy hand held you back down. She grunted and squeezed your shoulder. ‘Stay.’ How could you stay?! You fought against her.

“No! No-no-no-no-no! I killed them. They’re dead. I shot them. Oh my god, oh my god.” The grip tightened but you brushed off the touch mentally. Everything in your body itched to be on your feet, moving, pacing, doing something. You had to do something. You killed people! How could you?!

A short snarl barely caught your attention long enough to shatter your world. “Quiet!” a deep, guttural voice demanded silence. Your lips sealed shut. She just spoke. This humanoid figure that wasn’t from here… spoke.

Pain raged in your leg, the first thing you noticed. You gasped and sat up too quickly. Stars danced along your vision, everything disoriented now. A groan sounded low in your throat as you tried to figure out what was what. Yet, the throbbing in your leg made it hard to think. Why was it… You gazed at your exposed legs and the white bandage snuggly secured on your thigh.

Okay, why are you not wearing pants? Why is there gauze on-you killed two people! You gasped harshly enough to make you start to cough.

A glass of water was passed to you. You mumbled your thanks and sipped from the cup. Wait! Your head snapped to gaze at the green figure standing next to you. She towered over you. More than usual. You were on the bed. You groaned and clutch at your head as all this information was far too overwhelming. That didn’t stop you from downing the water, body dehydrated.

You take a chance to glance up at the mother. In her arm was cradling the little child she had birthed earlier. Its cries have been soothed, possibly sleeping after such a harrowing event for itself today. Honestly, you were shocked she hadn’t slept after birth. From what you’ve heard, it takes a lot out of you. Makes sense when you bring new life into the world.

Nervously, you scratched the back of your neck. “Thanks… for the water,” you spoke your gratitude, knowing she wouldn’t respond. It hit you right then and there. You had no pants on, nothing! Even as it pulled at your aching leg, you snatched a blanket and covered your exposed bits to her. Thankfully, she decided to leave alone your underwear.

Everything started to come back to you in small bits before the puzzle was put back together. The two men killed by you; the bullet hole in your leg, the fact she spoke. She spoke!

The mother dipped her head minutely. “You are welcome,” she said in a low voice with a lot of timbre. It sounded like she struggled to get the words out. A person who didn’t have the vocal cords to speak the language. A short thought of what her language sounded like came mind, but you brushed it off.

Despite already hearing her speak before, your brain short circuited again. It took you a moment to shake off the shock and look the mother in the eye. “Y-you speak?” Instantly, you cringed. That sounded horrible. “Sorry,” was your next word to save your hide from her. All she did was raised the one brow with five gems studded into her skin.

“I do speak. Learning ooman is not a rarity.” The more she spoke, the more you learned her different speech pattern. It was more formal, slow and a little unclear, but like a queen talking with her subjects. Who or what was she?

But ‘ooman’? That didn’t slip past your attention. It dawned you on. Human. Strange way of saying it but you weren’t going to bring that up.

The child in her arms gave a tiny squeak and lightly shivered in her hold. Before you realized what you were doing, you were offering the nearest blanket to the mother. Said cloth had been covering your exposed legs. She looked at the fabric for a moment before taking it. Carefully but skillfully, she wrapped her newborn in the blanket and kept the child cradled close.

While she did that, you used another blanket to cover up your legs. Once the three of you were settled, you stared at one another. For what reason, you couldn’t figure out. But, deep down, you were intrigued, despite all that has happened.

What now? What happens now? You killed two people. What made the guilt inside of you twist like a rusted blade was the idea of how to get rid of the evidence. How to make it look like these men never came here, never came after her? With all the bullet holes and blood probably stain not only your wood floors but the carpet too… what are you going to do?

A might palm captured your shoulder and gave your torso a shake. “I give you gratitude, ooman. You are unlike the rest of your race.” Past experience hung heavy in her words. A chapter that didn’t need to be opened. Not now. Her hand slipped off of your shoulder.

Her words made you think. Race. That solidified the idea she wasn’t human, not at all. “What… are you?” you muttered and bowed your head. You desperately hoped your words wouldn’t offend her in anyway. A chaste chitter that reminded you of a laugh sounded from her. You took that as a good sigh and raised your head.

“I was waiting for that… question.” She paused there and slowly blinked, eyes looking down at you. She was thinking of something in her mind then relaxed slightly. You saw the slight twitch when the move pulled at her own wounds. “I cannot say much but you did protect me and my suckling. You have earned my respect. I am a Yautja. An alien.”

For some reason, your heart swelled at the knowledge of knowing you had her respect. To know that a dangerous looking alien-alien! Oh my god! An alien! You, what… Your jaw dropped but not a sound came from you. This meant, aliens were real. Completely real. And you had just helped one not only give birth but protected them. You covered your mouth and tried to reel in this new information. An earthshattering discovery.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat and took a deep, stuttering breath. “W-what’s your name?” She tilts her head, a little to the side, to look down at you with an inspecting eye. Said gaze flickered to the bundle in her arms. Her expression softened at the sight then she looked back at you, eyes narrowing slightly.

“I am called Gawtin.” You hummed thoughtfully and lightly bobbed your head. To be polite, you returned the gesture which she acted indifferently. Not that it bothered you.

Silence engulfed the two of you. Yet, the throbbing in your leg didn’t wane. It burned. You worried at your bottom lip until blood spilt. She huffed, like she could taste the blood in the air… Wait, could she? She was alien. Her physical make-up could be completely different. You just shook your head side to side and rid of those thoughts.

There were more pressing matters at hand.

Your gaze looked back up at the massive… Yautja, Gawtin before you. “What happens now?” It was a necessary question that needed to be answered or some closure. Look at where you were! Two dead people in your cabin in the middle of nowhere with an alien and her baby. There was a bullet hole in your thigh as well, an injured gained from defending not only your property but the mother.

She took a moment to carefully plan her next words. “Endless possibilities. Due to the honor code, I am bound to you until my debt is paid, but I must return to my home world with my child. I must gather all of my armor and weapons stolen from me by your ooman government.”

This was a lot of information that made your brain fuzzy to think of all the possibilities. Honor code? Home world? Retrieving her items? Your government? What does this all mean?!

“You are not safe here. You will come with me. Your ooman government will send more. I cannot allow you to get… injured-“

“What are you saying?” you interrupted her without meaning any harm. All you needed was a dumbed down version.

The Yautja gaze a shortened growl. Your lips tightened against one another. Lesson learned. “You will come with me. I must protect you until the debt is paid,” she stated gruffly, as if it a chore to keep you alive. She had mentioned an honor code, meaning she has to follow rules. Maybe that’s why she hasn’t chosen to just kill you and be on her way.

Your brows furrowed. “Go with you? But why?” you sputtered and tried to turn onto your knees and face her. But the wound on your thigh wouldn’t allow you. Shit. You weren’t in good shape.

Gawtin leaned down to get close to your face, making sure her point finally struck you. “Your society frowns upon murder, does it not? Those two s’yuit-de are dead because of you.” Your face paled at her efficient words.

Prison. Murder. She was completely right. No matter how you spun it. You had killed two people. All the evidence would show you as murderer then sent straight to prison, locked up for life.

Now, you had two choices: prison or Gawtin. Prison was a lifetime of four concrete walls and survival. Gawtin… she was an unknown but couldn’t hurt you. Wouldn’t? She couldn’t due to her ‘honor code’ but what about wouldn’t. If the debt was paid, would she slaughter you where you stood. Was that better than prison?

As you gazed upon the muscular alien who waited for you to speak next, the choice was obvious. Timidly, you nodded your head. Gawtin scoffed. “Glad you agreed willingly. I am not above dragging you though.” Just something freely she stated, as if it was normal.

She stood back up to her full height, reminding you on how big was compared to your smaller form. “Gather what you deem necessary. We need to move,” she spoke and left the bedside to exit through the door. A door she had to lean down to get through.

You listened to her words and slide off of the bed. Pain shot up your leg and almost sent you to your knees but locked a knee helped. Through the aching, you limped around the room and place clothes in a small duffle bag.

At the entrance of the bedroom door, you stopped. Off to the left was your sketchbook and pencil. An item you couldn’t leave behind. It too was placed into the duffle bag. Now, you were prepared for wherever the mother was going to take you. You walked out of the room but paused at the overwhelming smell and sight slapped you right in the face.

It took every ounce and more of your being not to bend over and puke out what was in your stomach. She, Gawtin nonchalantly stepped over the bodies and left through the front door. To save yourself the trouble, you spun on your heel and escaped through the back entrance. Anything not to come close to the… mess you created.

At the front, Gawtin waited with her child still wrapped in the blankets from before. A chill was powering over the forest air as the sun was already falling again. Damn the mountains and winter. Thankfully, a jacket was wrapped around your torso to fend off the chill.

The alien looked down at you, eyes scanning over your body before giving a minute dip of her massive head. “We shall head towards the base. I must gather my supplies back before we find my ship and leave this c’jit planet,” she snarled towards the end. You couldn’t help but feel hurt and a need to defend your planet. But with one look at her stopped you.

All you could do was nod. Even though many questions were stuck to the tip of you tongue, never leaving, never asked. In good time, they’ll be answered. With the way she spoke, like it was complete fact and part of her fate, you weren’t going to argue with that.

One last look down at you, she turned and began the trek. Her strides long, powerful. Every one was nearly three for your own. With the pain in your leg, you didn’t how long you were going to last. This was your choice to live with now.

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Eight

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 4643

Warnings: 18+ Blog; Talks of failed relationships, Bi!Dieter, Fingering (public, F receiving), food and drinks, fluff fluff fluff, handy in the car, praise kink if you squint, oral (semi-ish public; F receiving), reader’s nickname is Poppy- zero physical description, these two hot dogs are just trying to make up for lost time, if I missed something let me know

A/N: Uhh, this chapter ran away from me. But it worked out cause now these two get some lovin’ and we get an extra chapter! Thanks so much @gnpwdrnwhiskey for being the sweetest beta reader as always— I appreciate you and your eyes so much!!

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous / Next

“You don’t think she’ll be mad?”

“No Dieter, I don’t think she’ll be mad. Poppy’s totally going to understand, she loves you and will support whatever you do.”

Diem had always been able to reassure him when he needed it most, especially when it came to you— the one good thing in his life he refused to mess up. 

“Please don’t mention anything, I want to be able to do it in person— I’ll probably just tell her tonight.”

“Oh, shoot— I was just going to text her right now, ‘Hey Poppy! I wanted to tell you before Dieter did…’” Diem’s voice dripping in sarcasm, acting like she’s typing out a message on her phone. “Of course I won’t tell her— My lips are sealed!” Pretending to lock her lips and tossing an invisible key over her shoulder, laughing at his annoyance with her. 

“I can’t with you.” He sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face.

Dieter paces around the kitchen, not really sure what to do with himself, ready far sooner than he anticipated— nerves buzzing with excitement knowing he would be seeing you in 30 minutes— to pick you up for your date.

First official date. 

You had both laughed at how backwards it felt. Your first kiss. Your first time together. Your first ‘I love you’.— all done before you had even managed to go on an actual date. 

Finding a Friday that worked with your busy schedule, but that also led into a weekend where you could spend it together uninterrupted— no plans, just together. 

Dieter wanted to, as he put it, wine and dine you. He made reservations for 7 at a somewhat fancy Italian restaurant, only telling you to get dressed up in your favorite dress and that he’d pick you up at 6:30. 

He can’t remember the last time he had put this much effort into a date, probably due to the fact he hadn’t really ever been on one in years. 

Sure, there were a handful of women and men on his arm at many times in his life, accompanying him to five star restaurants across the greater Los Angeles area, pictures of them stumbling into the streets plastered across the tabloids the next day. 

‘Dieter Bravo & Mystery Woman Dining at Hollywood Hot Spot: Is She the One to Tame this Bad Boy?’

‘Dieter Bravo Seen Dancing with New Beau at Packed Nightclub’

Many were a lame attempt at a PR stunt, to draw attention to his upcoming movies he’d be starring in— but most of them were also meant to keep his name in the positive spotlight, distract from the shit show of his life behind the scenes. 

There were a few that felt like a little more than weekend arm candy, only to find out he was the one catching feelings, while they were looking to catch a free ride to stardom. 

There was the model he met on the set of a cologne campaign, also a sweet bubbly aspiring actress. The whirlwind fling seemed to move at lightning speed, and against his better judgment and the concerns of his people, she moved in after only a few short months of them seeing each other. Their relationship had been one of his many attempts at getting sober, wanting to give his best to her, but things became increasingly tempestuous as Dieter pulled away from the wild parties and she went out with friends, only to come home as the sun was coming up— leaving Dieter bored and alone. When Dieter caught word of her affair with his closest friend and fellow actor, he kicked her out of his house and began to spiral back into his old ways. 

Then there was the time with ‘what’s his face’, Dieter vaguely recalls what he looked like— let alone what his name was, gallivanting around Europe taking in its beautiful countryside, experiencing the food and the touristy atmosphere. When time came for them to head home, Dieter needing to prepare for a new role, he found himself flying back alone— leaving ‘what’s his face’ in Mallorca to continue on his soul-searching journey, which included some business opportunities with someone by the name of Lucas Gutierrez. 

The last relationship, if you could even call it that, was a drugged out daze where he almost married the receptionist of a high end hotel, Dieter had been convinced her hospitality meant she was in love with him. A weeks stay turned into a hazy mess of pleading for her to have sex with him while he was high as a kite, and by the end of the week she was saving his life and he was even more sure she was his forever— until his publicist and crisis manager had to step in and tell him he was not of sound mind to make such life altering decisions. 

Dieter had written off relationships or anything that resembled some sort of courtship, especially while in treatment— wanting to get himself right before even thinking about getting involved with someone. 

And then a year later, you came out of left field and had him seeing what love could feel like.

A knock at the front door pulls him from his head, glancing over to where Diem is eating dinner with Wren and getting a shrug of ‘I’m not expecting anyone’, he goes to answer it. 

Opening the door, he wasn’t expecting to see you, stunned into silence as his eyes slowly roamed over your body— completely done up, no semblance of your innocent teacher-look in sight. 

You take his reserved demeanor, no real expression except for wide eyes and a slack jaw, as if there was something wrong with how you looked. 

“What is it? Is the dress too much?” You say looking downward, smoothing out the fabric of your silky black dress and matching heels. You had given yourself a once over in the mirror before heading over, thinking everything was in place and really feeling the look— but maybe you had missed something. 

“N-no— No! You look fine— I mean you look beautiful.” Dieter stammers over his words, the way your dress hugs every inch of you has his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. “Wow!”

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself there, handsome.” Biting your bottom lip as you adjust the wonky lapel on his navy suit, giggling at how you both can’t seem to stop staring at each other. 

“You’re early!” The realization hit him, looking over the clock on the oven to see he still had another 25 minutes before he even needed to leave. 

“I know. But I’ve been ready for the last hour and I was getting bored sitting on my couch waiting— plus there’s only so many songs on one side of a record and I got tired of getting up to flip it. So, I figured I’d walk here, kill some time.”

“Poppy, it’s like a five minute walk from your house.” He laughs, but his chest swells at the thought of you being so excited for the evening. 

“Actually, it’s a good 8, maybe 10 minutes in these heels— which by the way, are made for sitting not walking, so the sooner I can sit the better.” You mention as you shift your body from side to side, trying to relieve the tension that’s already settling into the balls of your feet. 

“Let’s go then.”

He runs back to the counter to grab his phone and his keys, stopping to give Wren a kiss on her head and a good night to both her and Diem. 

“You kids behave yourselves!” Diem quips with a smirk. 

“Uncle Dieter and Poppy aren’t kids mama! You adults behave!! Are they going to get in trouble?!” Wren confused, trying to wrap her head around the whole thought of her uncle and Poppy not behaving. 

Thankfully it’s a short walk, his hand securely on the small of your back as he guides you from the front door to his car, mindful of your slow calculated steps. 

A machine-like beep echoes out into the night as he unlocks the door, you start to bend down slightly to reach for the door handle, but Dieter grabs your wrist, carefully pulling you to him— your chest colliding with his. 

“You look beautiful, Poppy.” He breathes against your mouth, his nose gently nudging at yours before his lips seal over your awaiting lips. 

You can’t help the small whine that escapes your throat the moment his tongue slowly invades your mouth, eliciting a lustful moan of his own as he deepens the kiss. 

With his hands firmly grabbing onto the globes of your ass, pulling your lower half as close to him as possible, he shuffles your bodies around before pressing your back into the side of his car, the cold metal hitting your bare back sends a shiver down your spine, his feet tapping against yours signaling you to widen your stance as much as your dress will allow.

The way his lips continue to move over yours paired with the slight grind of his hips, a prominent bulge rutting up against the ache that has begun to settle between your legs, your appetite grows for something a little stronger and involving less clothes— is it too late to cancel reservations?

Goosebumps scatter across your skin as the sensation of his fingers gliding over your thigh, breaching the slit in your dress and settling at your unclothed and heated core— no panties were a risky move with how high the slit of your dress went, but the choice was paying off earlier than you had expected. 

Your fingers digging into the back of his arms to help  keep you upright, fearing your legs might give out at any moment. 

“Can you be quiet for me?” He asks against your swollen lips— grateful you opted for a gloss over a stain of color, knowing this might have been on the menu for the evening. 

You can only manage a nod as a jolt of pleasure hits you the minute his fingers push into your dripping pussy. 

Dieter covers your mouth with his other hand, quieting the tiny sounds that you can’t help making with how his fingers move so intently against your velvety walls, tripping the tiny live wires that have you electrified and pulsing around his digits. 

“Fuck Poppy, I can feel you’re already there. What’s got you so worked up already?” Dieter’s words muffled against your warm ear, his husky voice aiding in the chase for your release. 

He moves his hand from your mouth, your lips parting as you take a few quick breaths, your mind actively trying to string together a few coherent words. 

“Y-you.” Your response is airy, as you start to feel the building pressure of your climax. 

“Me?” He asks, removing himself from where he had settled against your neck, giving you a mocking puzzled look, playing stupid—he wants to hear you say it. 

“Yes— ah! You! Y-you look s-so— oh fuck! So fucking pretty! Oh god, Dieter— don’t stop please!” 

His hand moves to rest behind your neck, holding your head up so he can watch the way your face looks the second he sends you into a euphoric state. 

It’s a subtle swipe of his thumb over your throbbing clit, that has you catapulting into a blinding nirvana. 

Dieter presses his lips in a leisurely haphazard manner to your fiery skin as you come down from your peak, slowly removing his fingers from your spent cunt. 

You manage to catch his hand the moment it leaves the underside of your dress, locking your eyes with his as you bring the two fingers, now glistening under the moonlight, that worked earnestly to satisfy you up to your watery mouth. You wrap your lips around them, tasting your tangy sweet arousal, releasing his hand and wiping the corners of your mouth— Dieter practically coming in his suit pants at the sight

“Fuck, Poppy! You teach kids with that mouth of yours?” Eyebrows raised in question as he jokes at the lewd, yet arousing, gesture. 

“I knew you’d be a dessert before dinner kinda guy—” You reply, pressing a kiss to his cheek then whispering into his ear, “Hmm, plus, that’s not the only thing it can do.” 

You lightly push him off of you, giving him a sultry smile and a wink, adjusting your dress before opening the door to the car and getting in. 

“Fuck me!” He breathes out into the crisp evening air. 

*

The restaurant was the perfect backdrop for the evening— an outside table tucked in the corner of their patio with dim overhead lighting, candles glowing between table settings, a heavy card-stock menu listing their elaborate dishes and expensive wines. 

You had told Dieter on the ride over that you would have been more than fine with the local pizzeria or even stayed in and cooked together— he said the latter would be added on to the list of options for next time. 

Dieter had opted to sit next to you as opposed to sitting across the table— you didn’t argue, agreeing that it felt more intimate having him closer. It also allowed Dieter to rest his hand on your exposed thigh the entire evening, running his fingers along the seam where your leg crossed over the other— at times your hand resting over his, lighting caressing the top of his or changing it up and interlocking your fingers together.

The conversation flowed nicely once you were both satisfied with the order for the evening, sharing of childhood stories and funny life moments kept you both engaged and connected throughout the night. 

“What made you want to be a teacher?” Dieter asks, munching on a crunchy piece of garlic bread, his hand still resting on your leg while his thumb caresses over your knee. 

You finish your bite, wiping the pasta sauce from your mouth. 

“Actually, my mom is a teacher— she was my sixth grade teacher too. When I was in college trying to figure out my path, I remembered the joy she got out of being with her students and how much she had helped kids in my class. I knew it was something I wanted to do too. I guess we’re kind of alike in a way, following our parent’s footsteps.” Giving his hand a brief squeeze at the realization, your eyes beaming as you look at him. 

He smiles at the coincidence, he likes listening to you share these parts of your life with him. 

“What did you want to be as a kid?” He asks before taking a sip of his ice water. 

“Oh no!” Laughing softly at his question. “You’re going to laugh at me!”

“Well, now I need to know!” Trying to picture what a younger version of you would have dreamed of being in your adult life. 

“I don’t want to hear a single thing when I tell you, you understand me Bravo!” Jokingly point a finger at him as you prepare to reveal your childhood dream. 

He draws an X over his chest as a promise, encouraging you to continue. 

“I wanted to be an actress.” You reveal in a low hushed tone. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” He’s fighting back his laugh, tilting an ear in your direction as if he didn’t hear what you said. 

“I wanted to be an actress!” Your face scrunches up with embarrassment as you repeat yourself. 

“Would have never guessed!” It’s the smallest laugh that escapes, shaking his head in amusement. “What made you change your mind?”

“Fifth grade— I was the female lead in our class play, it was a musical. I was sure this was going to be the thing that proved how much I wanted to act, convince my mom to put me in acting classes— I secretly hoped that maybe I could make it big, then move to be with my Dad and I don’t know, prove to that I could be something to him.”

You take a sip of your white wine. When ordering earlier, you had told Dieter you would be fine with just water since he wasn’t drinking, but he had insisted it was fine— and you had to admit it paired well with your dish. 

“I practiced nonstop, to the point I think mother was counting down the days until opening night so she didn’t have to hear me belting out my solo song in my room. Opening night came, and my part was about half through the play— I was so excited. Once it was my scene, I walked out on stage, saw all the faces staring back at me and I just froze. I couldn’t even say my lines, let alone sing.”

“What did you do?” 

“I ran out of there so fast. Begged my mom to switch schools so I wouldn’t have to face my class again. My dreams of becoming a big star faded instantly and I realized also that wasn’t going to fix anything with my Dad. Could you imagine though? Me, an actress— that would be a fucking sight.”

You both laugh uncontrollably at the thought of you being a Hollywood star  and how different your life had become, agreeing that you ended up where you were meant to be. 

“When do I get to meet her?”

“My mom?”

“Yeah, I feel like I should meet the mother of my girlfriend— hopefully sooner than later.”

Girlfriend. 

You both hadn’t really discussed labels, and you were perfectly fine with letting things happen organically being this was all still new for you both. But also acknowledging this was something more than just casually dating someone you didn’t know.

“Well, she’ll fly in next Thursday and will be at the gallery for my exhibit on Friday, so you can meet her then.” You’re giddy at the thought of your Mom meeting Dieter, having spent so many hours on the phone with her talking about him. 

His face morphs into a look of panic at the mention of your gallery showing, deciding that now would be the perfect time to tell you the thing that’s been weighing on him the last few days. 

“What?”

“Poppy, about your showing. I got a call the other morning— they bumped up pre-production and I’ll be leaving sooner than originally planned.”

“When do you leave?”

“This Monday. I’ve been trying to figure things out, find some way to still be able to make it, but they aren’t really working with me— as of now, it’s looking like I’m going to miss it.” Now that it’s out in the open, he doesn’t feel any better now that you know, he knows how much this means to you and wants to be there for you. 

“Dieter— hey, it’s okay!” 

You can see the anguish looming over him, hating that he was nervous to tell you. 

“You’re not upset with me?”

“No! Why would I be upset? I mean, sure I’m a little bummed out, but this job is important to you.”

“But your art is just as important.”

“I appreciate you thinking that, but there will be others I’m sure. Maybe not at that gallery, but I’m sure I’ll find another place and I’ll convince them to let me show off my work there too.” 

“Thank you, for being understanding.”

“Of course, Dieter… You’ll just have to make it up to me in other ways I guess.” 

As the date progressed, you’re both completely satiated, barely able to take a single taste of the dessert you had ordered. 

Dieter shared more about his love for acting growing up, fun stories from movie sets and his favorite roles to date— you didn’t want him to stop sharing, the way his eyes lit up you could tell how passionate he was about his work, it made you fall for him even more. 

“Does it still make you happy?” You ask him, your elbow propped up on the table, hand under your chin, the answer seemed so obvious to you but you wanted to hear him say it. 

He laughs at your question, leaning against the chair back, taking a minute to collect his thoughts. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Driving Birdie to school one morning, she asked me the same question. Just funny I’m being asked again after being here for a few months now.” He explains, rolling the edge of his napkin between his fingers, knowing you’re going to want him to answer it truthfully. 

“Is your answer still the same?” 

“Well, Birdie said I need to listen to my heart.”

“And what does your heart say now?” You ask as you lean forward, pressing your palm over his chest, feeling the steady strum of his heart as he looks at you with the most loving gaze. 

Adjusting himself forward in his seat, angling his body closer to you, wrapping his large hand over yours and pressing them both close to his chest, the up turn of his lopsided grin slowly growing. 

“It says that I am happy. Happy to be alive and sober. Happy to be home— making up for lost time with Diem and Wren. Happy to have this opportunity to discover the joy I have for a simpler life. And more importantly, it says I am happy to have you.” 

Tears began to shimmer in your eyes, hearing him say how happy he was, was an indescribable feeling— he was so deserving of not only happiness, but love and you were so grateful he was feeling it. 

“I love you, Dieter.” Trying to sniffle back your tears, your hand cradles the back of his head, closing the gap between you as his lips settle against yours. 

He can taste the few tears that do manage to escape, their wet briney sweetness coating the ardent kiss. 

“I love you so much, Poppy.” 

*

The ride home was a comfortable silence, no real need for conversation, just being in the presence of each was enough for the drive back to your place. 

It was peaceful— your hand resting on his leg, your gaze focused on the way the houses and trees blurred together in passing. 

“What are you smiling about over there?” Catching the slight grin on your face as you look out the window, wanting to know what thoughts were the cause for it. 

You hum in response, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as your mind replays a loop of the entire evening thus far. 

“I had fun tonight— thank you.” Your head still resting against the seat, watching the way Dieter’s hands grip around the steering wheel, the muscles of his neck taut and flexed as he checks the mirrors. 

Acutely aware of the dampness that’s been lingering between your legs all evening, watching him right now you can feel your arousal beginning to pool and slowly drip down your thighs— grateful for your dress acting as a barrier between you and the car’s leather seats. 

The car jerks slightly as Dieter pulls it into your driveway, shifting into park and killing the engine, turning his attention to you, mirroring your position. 

“I had a great time too. Pretty sure I earned myself a second date, maybe even a little kiss goodnight.” 

His enthusiasm and lack of humbleness about his odds have you reeling, but it's his signature wink that hits you like a freight train that has you moving before your brain can register what’s happening. 

“I think you earned yourself a little more than that.” Your words are honeyed and laced in a seductive sugariness. 

A dual clicking, triggers the release of your seat-buckles, the snap back of the retracting belts reverberates through the car. 

A soft sliding of fabric against an oiled leather seat merely tickles your ears, trying to shift your body upward, your knee finally finding purchase to hold steady. 

A myriad of soft sounds expelled from Dieter’s side of the car. The rigid unzipping of his pants. The shuffling and pulling of excessive fabrics. A string of mumbled fuckshitohgodpoppyplease tumble from Dieter’s mouth as he watches the way your hand works itself over his hard cock. 

He’s putty in your hands, breathing ragged and tight with each swipe of your thumb over the head of his shaft. Gathering every glassy drop of pre-cum to help your hand slide effortlessly, pausing at the base of his cock for a moment— your firm grip producing another string of sounds from Dieter, mostly heady opaque moans. 

“Pop-Poppy! fuckfuckfuck! I-hnnnngh!! I’m gonna come if you— shit! If you keep that up!” 

“That’s the point Babe, I want you to feel good. Show my boyfriend how much he means to me.”

You can feel the way he tenses in pleasure at you calling him your boyfriend, the way he throbs in your hand as you resume your movements. 

“I’m going to miss you so much Dieter. Miss your stupid handsome face while you’re out doing what you love most. Letting everyone see how amazing and perfect you are.“ Your soft voice fanning across his ear. 

“N-no Poppy— You- fuck! I love you, the most.” His jaw is tight as he grits out his words. 

“I love you Dieter. It’s okay, let go— for me.” 

And he does. 

Warm spurts of cum coat the top of your hand and his dark navy button down shirt—  a painting of white Rorschach blots of arousal. 

“I’m going to miss you too, Poppy.” He manages to say, his throat raspy and dry. 

You find yourself flush against your front door, purse dangling from your arm, intoxicated by the way Dieter is kissing you fervently. 

“Dieter, babe! My feet are killin’ me! I’ve got to get these shoes off asap!” Taking a moment to catch your breath and search for your keys. 

Sifting through the mess of your purse, you miss Dieter kneeling down, his hand cupping the back of your calf as he attempts to undo the strap of your heels with the other, it doesn’t take long for you to feel your shoe being removed, the pressure instantly dissipating. His hands begin to work at your other shoe when you find your ring of keys, relief again as he removes the shoe and gently places your bare foot on your tiled porch. 

“God, that feels so much better! Thank— ah! Dieter!” 

Your skin feels soft under his touch, dropping a few kisses up the length of your exposed leg, stopping when he gets to the peak of your dress's slit, looking up at you to see nothing but want swimming in your eyes. 

He presses his hands on your hips, shifting  the fabric of your dress just enough so the slit allows him access to your cunt. 

A few bold licks through your wet folds has your knees buckling, his grip on you tightening to keep you from slipping, you’re so keyed up already that you know this is going to be a quick completion. 

But Dieter takes his time with you, and it’s worth it the minute your orgasm hits— a mixture of tingling excitement and hot lips between your legs. 

Your head lulls back against the door, as you wait for the sensation to come back to your legs. 

Dieter standing to his full height, shifting your dress back to its proper position. 

“I’ll have you know, I’m a dessert anytime kinda guy.” Devilishly smirking,  his lips damp with your arousal as he presses them to yours. 

“Stay. I’m not ready for you to leave me yet. Stay the weekend with me, please.” 

You’re practically begging him, and he finds it incredibly hard to tell you no— but sees no reason why he should. 

“I’m yours, Poppy. Show me where the bedroom is.”

[walpu]

Reading your Nameless!reader and pre-relationship with Aventurine gave me a brain blast because I merged both ideas into one. (Word vomit, send help-)

You're either just an acquaintance of his or just a mere fling during the lively nights of sucking the bettors' cash dry in the casino, he won a bet against you and spent a date. That’s all there is to it, and that’s the extent of your relationship with him. That’s what he initially thought. What fate brought you two to meet at certain intervals are too good to be a coincidence, you caught the glances of that one they call a ‘Stoneheart’.

Cerulean and magenta would drift their attention away from whatever once they saw you behind his shades, just listening to a guitarist express their soul on the bench just by the road, right there when you’re alone did he propose for another bet and an upcoming date.

And you’d just drag him with you to do something, no bets, no losers would do anything the winner wants. You know your chance of winning against Aventurine is little to none, so if he wants to do an encore he’s gonna get an encore, no bets needed.

And this would happen for quite a while after coincidental encounters in planets, star systems, galaxies, it reached the point he’d touch you freely like an old friend. Aventurine doesn’t know what led him to take attraction to you, was it boredom from that second time he saw you? Was it how you seem to enjoy just with him being there? Or was it how you held him so gently like an angel’s touch as you danced with him in your first fling?

Gentle and caring is what he’d describe your touch as, and it scared him. You’re not his first fling oh no no, but you’re the first person he invited to have an intimate night to destress who touched him so gently, and he’s not one to ask hem to be gentle or caring. It’s intoxicating, he craves for more but the butterflies inside him makes him feel vulnerable and weak. Oh how he’d love to take you anywhere in the universe if he’s not a busy, busy man, and a coward that pull away from you the more he realized that you mean so much more to him.

Until he notices that this coincidental encounters starts to lessen, with his position in the IPC he became busier and busier he doesn’t have the time to contact you and you’d reply much later than usual, texts from you would be more rare after a long while. He wants to be relieved for the calmness and solitude but his heart aches at the thoughts of you abandoning him. He fears genuine affection, he’s afraid that you’ll risk your life mingling with someone like him. This is an optimal solution for both of you, right?

Seeing you again in Penacony after a long time of not meeting one another again made him forget how much he misses you, the way you’d run up to him all happy to finally see him again and how you smirked mischievously at your Astral Express crew’s shocked face about your beloved old friend. Aventurine has many things to catch up with you, to be part of the Nameless you follow the tracks forged by the Trailblaze, you’d save worlds and seal Stellarons, to cross path with one another is once in a lifetime.

And he’s calm himself down and take things slowly with you, what do you say about a dinner together?

- 🪽

(I'm normal don't worry. Sorry if it's so LONG! Have a nice day, love your writing!)

DON'T APOLOGIZE ANON IT'S BEAUTIFUL thank you for sharing this with me it really made my evening 🥹💛

Have a nice day as well <з

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Walking on Sunshine 3

Sister series to Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows

Warnings: non/dubcon, antisocial behaviour, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: God The Bounty Hunter x reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You stare at the muffin, pondering it as if it holds the meaning of life. Where did it come from? Who could know of your secret longing? Or could it be a lucky guess?

Surely, it isn’t your prospective friend from the break room. Too fast, despite your hopes. You really can’t figure who would do this. As far as you know, you’re more of a name on a roster than an actual person in this office. That grumpy goth guy made that clear on your first day when he ran diagnostics on your machine.

You huff. Do you let temptation take over? A muffin, that’s a nice gesture, but it could also be a trap. Maybe your seat neighbour is trying to poison you for all your squeaking. The cinnamon makes your mouth water and you put the crumbly dessert back in the bag.

You put it in the corner of your desk and try to ignore it. There it is, taunting you with its deliciousness. You really should have eaten something. Now your stomach is growling at you angrily.

You sip your hot chocolate to suppress the cravings. You click and tap keys and zone out as you go through the usual corporate monotony. You feel like a robot just going through the motions. The same thing over and over.

You sit up and rub your eyes, leaning back so your chair squeaks, so high it hurts your ears. Ugh, curse this chair. But don’t really, it’s cursed enough.

Your neighbour mutters and makes a noise as if to mimic your chair. You whisper an apology. You drop your hands and a dark shape above the wall of your cubicle catches your attention. Your eyes round as they meet two others, vibrantly blue but dark at the same time.

It’s that man again. He just sits there, watching you. He peels the wrapper away from a muffin and pinches away a piece of the top. He’s expressionless as he puts it between his lips. He lets his fingers drag slightly as he seals his mouth and chews, still watching you.

Your mouth falls open and you look at the paper bag then back to him. His brows twitch just a little. Oh, wow. That’s strange. Who is this man and why is he so quiet and mysterious? You wheel your chair out slowly, careful not to make too much noise. You stand but hit the desk with your hip, jolting your cubicle and the next.

“I swear…” the slither rolls from your neighbours tight throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you look over as your neighbour hunches down but doesn’t acknowledge you further. Maybe you could be relocated.

You look up and the man is gone. What? How? He’s like a ghost. Are you imagining him? Are you cracking from this office purgatory and blacking out to buy sweet desserts? What’s real and what’s not? That’s a question better left to Descartes.

You sit back down and reach for your cup. There’s nothing that can be cured with sugary goodness. And there’s some things that can’t be forgotten, like that muffin and its sinister aura.

🌞

The muffin stays in its habitat. You let the sugar crumble fester, fighting not to let the cinnamon tempt you to err. Your work is made even more tedious by the paper bag sat not far from your mouse. Tear up the planks! It is the beating of his hideous heart!

Not exactly a Poe horror, only a muffin. You sigh as you log out for the day, packing up slowly as you ponder the weight of a single baked good. Your desk neighbour is gone swiftly, striding off with another mutter. They can’t even be happy about quitting time.

You pull your jacket on and sling your bag on your shoulder. One last look at the paper bag. You don’t have the heart to dump it in the bin. It’s a problem for tomorrow, another line on the list.

You take the stairs like you always do. The elevator is too crowded for you. It lurches terribly and gives you vertigo. Besides, you sit at a desk all day, you need to stretch your legs.

You get to the bottom floor and pop your earbuds in. Time to finish the saga of the tragic marriage. Your walk home isn’t far. It’s depressingly close. It feels like your entire life revolves around the soulless office building.

You tuck your hands into your pocket and dip your chin down. The narrator’s voice fills your ears, blocking out the impatient honking of rush hour and the noise of pedestrians shuffling by. You stop at the light, waiting for it to change.

A figure comes up next to you. You inch away, giving them space. They get closer. You stare ahead of you, your neck hot as the shadow hovers over you. The light changes but before you can set across the street, a paper bag greets you and has you stepping back.

You gasp and reach for your earbuds, turning to face the man as he holds out the paper bag. It’s him! The office ghost. He’s real!

“Oh, uh, it was… you?” You eke out as he says nothing. “Um…” you look back to the bag, almost crosseyed for how close he holds it. “That’s so kind of you but I don’t know if I should.”

He blinks and his brow ripples. He looks at the paper bag quizzically then at you. You flinch as he steps closer, reaching for you. You’re frozen in shock as he takes your wrist and turns your hand up. He places the bag firmly against your palm. You close your fingers around the bottom of the bag so it crinkles.

He lets you go, a curt nod before he brushes by you, leaving you speechless and confused as he marches down the perpendicular lane. You turn to watch his broad shoulders stalk down the pavement, oblivious to those who sidle out of his way. You adjust your grasp on the muffin as your mind races.

The mystery of the muffin is cracked but a million more questions flurry in your head. You don't even know his name.