#all the noise in my head goes away and i can finally just exist

[saturnspaceshark]

I yearn for tf2 noise in my brain

[thecreelhouse]

sweet girl

Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: You and Steve are held captive in a bunker under Starcourt, forced to admit secrets and expose yourselves to one another to stay alive.

WC: 6k+

CW/Tags: enemies to lovers, fuck or die trope, dub/non-con (depends on how u view it), language, pet names, somno, toys, oral (f receiving), PiV (unprotected) rough sex, brief anal play, dacryphilia, spit play, cum play, degradation, humiliation, etc.

A/N: okay. fair warning. this is probably one of the dumbest things i wrote back in the height of covid’s initial quarantine (because being stuck inside for too long did a number on us all) but it exists, and i got tired of seeing it in my drafts, so hopefully some of y’all like it too lmao

Steve can’t remember how he got here.

There’s an ache, constant but distant, stretched across the features of his face, spreading across his torso and fading into the rest of his body, but he can barely feel it. Only if he focuses hard enough.

Right now, Steve would rather focus on you, instead.

You, gliding your wet core against his thigh as he tenses up his muscles every now and then, smirking at the whines you squeak out when he does. You, gripping onto Steve’s shoulders tightly, fingers digging into his skin while he just sits back and watches. You, practically glowing from the sheen of sweat across your features, sealing in the blush that’s crept across your cheeks long ago.

Steve’s definitely more interested in you right now.

His eyes rake over your body as your breasts bounce while grinding against his thigh. He drinks in the way your lips part and eyes roll back while the slick from your cunt drips down his leg. 

All Steve wants right now is to touch you, but he can’t. His arms are stuck to his sides and he can’t figure out why. He wants to run his hands across your soft skin, wants to play with your tits and suck on them, wants to make you moan more and more with every teasing move… and he can’t.

A flash of the ache, sharper, closer now, blurs his vision. He winces, trying to focus back on you, back on how good you look coming undone on his thigh, but again, he can’t.

A sob ripples through you, breaking the string of moans, and Steve’s brows furrow at the noise. He goes to speak, to ask if you’re alright, but his mouth won’t open. It feels too… too heavy to open. A wave of fatigue washes over him, slowly making the rest of his body feel heavy, too.

Slowly, your whimpers transform from ones of need to ones of despair. The slight change in tone alarms Steve, and the vision of you in front of him begins to fade in and out.

He tries moving his arms, but they don’t budge. He attempts speaking again, and still, his mouth won’t open, but a closed mouth groan erupts from his chest the harder he tries.

The harder he tries, though, the more intense the pain grows for Steve. It spreads like lightning within his head, nearly blinding him. 

Another sob slips past your lips, but this one teeters on the line of sounding desperate for help, or desperate for… something else.

“Steve…”

Voice still stuck in his throat, he tries his hardest still to say something, anything. A raspy groan finally pushes past his lips.

“Steve? God, I’m—“ You whimper, catching Steve’s attention as his vision continues to blur and fade out, his surroundings growing dark. “— I’m so sorry.”

The pain envelops him now, gripping Steve in a grim reminder of the reality he faced earlier, all rushing back to him so quickly.

The secret Russian base under Starcourt. Getting separated from the group as you and Steve held off the guards from chasing your friends. The guards locking you and Steve away in separate rooms. The… the screams that echoed down the hall from your room to his, and the way he threatened the guards in front of him that if they ever laid a finger on you, they’d be dead.

They responded with a couple of sucker punches, one good hook to the eye, along with roughing up the rest of Steve. That’s all he could remember before it all grew dark.

When Steve woke up, it seemed too good to be true. You’d never fuck around with him beyond his dreams. No, the two of you hated each other in reality. The summer was spent trying not to kill each other while working in the same mall. Empty threats and death glares were common whenever the two of you crossed paths.

What you didn’t know was how much Steve actually liked you. A crush he tried pushing aside that only grew by the days that passed by, turning into nights he spent waking up covered in sweat and his own arousal.

It was a dream, the good part, at least. As Steve begins to come to, he remembers everything.

So… why can he still hear your whines and whimpers? Feel the movements of you rocking your hips against his thigh?

“Steve, If you wake up… do- don’t look, okay?” You whimper as a sigh shudders through you. Curiosity tugged Steve further awake, though.

Another sigh echoes around him, and he wants to open his eyes despite your warning, but one of his eyes is swollen shut. Still, he pushes himself to open the good eye, the dim lighting of the room barely helping him adjust to his surroundings.

Steve notices the nearly empty room, first. The giant mirror takes up the one wall across from him, and in the dim lights, he squints when he notices movement above him. He first sees the blood covering him, his face swollen in agonizing pain. His gaze falls to the chair he’s in, slowly noticing restraints holding him tight to the back of the chair. Panic floods through him as his vision grows steadier, finally adjusting to the shitty lighting.

A figure is straddling him, moving against him, but he can’t feel them. Not fully. Only a second of questioning lasts before a moan tumbles from your lips, realization hitting him like a truck—

Steve spins his head back to the front, eyes falling on you while his jaw hits the floor. His heart nearly beats out of his chest as he notices you’re fully naked, skin prickling with shame and a sheen of sweat covering your body.

Steve’s eyes fall to his leg, the one you’re riding, just like in his dream. Only, he’s still in his Scoops uniform, with some kind of device strapped to his leg. One you’re furiously rubbing and bouncing against: a strap on, secured to his thigh.

You’re looking away, tears pricking at your eyes; you know how wrong this is, but you can’t silence the pleasure building within you. Curiosity tempting you, your gaze flicks back to Steve, only to see him watching you in disbelief, swollen lips parted as he began matching your panting with his own.

“Steve— I- I can explain—“

A sharp click and whiny feedback echo through the room, startling the both of you before a voice with a Russian accent follows. “I see your friend is awake, now it’s time to play.”

Steve can’t take his eyes off of you, wondering if this was what started his dream, wondering how the fuck the two of you got into a situation like this.

He watches as you shake your head urgently, clamping your eyes shut. 

“I- I can’t,” You blurt out, hips slowing down. “I won’t!”

“You don’t want us to finish the job.” The voice counters. “Why did you stop? You know what will happen to you both if you stop.”

Tears slip down your face as you open your eyes, daring to look at Steve. He gives a look, almost silently pleading with you to listen to the guards.

“Whatever you have to do,” Steve whispers, hoping it’s quiet enough not to be picked up on whatever communication system they have in the room. “Do it.”

“Steve, I- I’m so sorry— ”

The voice cuts back in, booming against the walls, “NOW!”

“I want us to be safe,” Steve whispers, gulping before he bounces his leg gently, slightly thrusting the toy up into you. You squeak out reluctantly, but it did feel good, especially with Steve’s attention on you. “I’m here, it’s okay.”

It’s not okay, though. Steve is still fighting off the exhaustion of unconsciousness, still trying to get a grip on the reality before him, but is coming up short with rationalizing in any other way that doesn’t have a terrible outcome for the both of you.

You take a deep breath before rolling your hips again, your leg between Steve’s thighs softly brushing against his bulge, quickly growing hard. You glance at him, eyes narrowing.

“You like this, don’t you?” You breathe, slowly lifting your hips up on the dildo— a difficult feat with your hands bound behind your back— before gently bringing yourself back down. A groan escapes your lips as the toy reaches deep inside you.

Steve scrambles to say something, at a loss for words, before feeling your own slick drip down the dildo and onto his leg. He glances down at the mess you’re making before glancing back at you. 

“You’re one to talk, sweetheart,” Steve bites back, causing your cheeks to flush a shade red deeper. “Look at- at this… mess you’re making on me.”

You whine and throw your head back, grinding your hips down as you take the entire toy within you while your clit brushes against his leg ever so gently. 

“I’m supposed to be— ” A moan slips out, stealing your sentence. “I- I have to make you feel humiliated, Harrington.”

The grave situation the two of you are in is slowly falling away, when all Steve can see is you. He smirks, though it blooms pain across his face, but he powers through it.

“That so?”

“They… god… they want me to kiss you and I- I can’t-“

“Are you afraid it’ll hurt me?” Steve wonders, and you shake your head as you try rolling your eyes, but they roll back into your head as he stiffens his leg again, thrusting the toy into you again. 

“I- I don’t give a shit about th- that, Harrington. That’s what they want.” You whine, glancing over at the mirror. The sight of you riding Steve’s thigh was insanely hot, but you were distracted by the guards beyond the mirror watching you. “You know I hate you.”

Steve chuckles humorlessly, “Do you? Because your cunt seems to say otherwise.”

You brush your leg against Steve’s erection, earning a groan out of him. “Seems like your cock says otherwise, too.”

Steve grunts, trying to shift in his seat, desperate to feel any friction against his length. His gaze grows soft, his good eye growing doe-like as he stares at you needily.

“Please,” Steve rasps out. “Let me help you through this. When we make it out of here, no one has to know, I promise.”

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to admit he’s joking, that it’s hilarious how pathetic you look riding a plastic cock strapped to him. He doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything to build the doubt, just waits patiently for your answer while you continue rocking yourself against him.

“Fine,” You finally agree, but as you lean closer to Steve’s face, you stop just as your foreheads touch, whispering, “Are you okay?”

Steve licks his lips as he looks at yours, nodding, “Aside from being nearly beaten to death, I’m fucking great. You?”

You blush with eyes wide, “Not the way I wanted to admit my feelings… but I guess it’ll do.”

You surge forward, lips catching Steve’s, and he whimpers into the kiss, mainly from the pain. At first, he can feel tears building in his eyes, the sting lasting longer than he expected… but he kind of likes it. A sigh shudders through him as the hurt turns him on even more.

“Looks like your friend is into pain, too.” The voice chimes in, and you bite softly on Steve’s bottom lip before tugging gently. He moans, louder this time. “Show him what you’ve got, sweet girl.”

Steve pulls away abruptly before glaring at the mirror for a moment, then back at you, trying to catch his breath.

 “Fuck that, they can’t call you that. You’re mine.”

The sudden possessive demeanor catches you off guard, sending shivers up your spine. Steve slams his thigh against your core, and you cry out as the toy hits your sweet spot just right.

Before you can catch your breath, Steve thrusts the dildo into you again, and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. Your eyes roll back into your head and you feel dizzy from the extreme pleasure.

“Taking it so well, sweetheart.” Steve murmurs, leaning forward as best as he can to kiss your neck. You whimper as you continue bouncing on the strap, matching Steve’s thrusts.

Steve’s lips latch onto your skin, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots in the crook of your neck. You brush your leg against his rock hard bulge, and Steve whines against your skin, responding with another harsh slam into you.

“M- more… ” You weakly mumble. Steve chuckles darkly at the request.

“Wish I could do more, sweetheart.” He grumbles into your skin, dipping his mouth lower to your chest. A gasp escapes you as you feel his tongue flick out against your nipple. “You look so pretty when you’re fucked out.”

All you can manage to get out is another long, drawn out whine, desperate to be able to touch Steve, to have him ruin you in return. The grave situation you’re both in almost melts away around you from the intense pleasure, but every now and then the static over the speakers reminds you you’re not alone.

Following the thought, the door clicks open, startling you from the forced bliss you were in. You feel Steve stiffen underneath you, but still he continues to keep his pace while bouncing his leg for you.

“Hm…” A guard you haven’t seen before, one with a thicker Russian accent spoke up as he took slow, agonizing steps towards the two of you. “It seems we’ve underestimated your friend.”

The guard circles the tangled mess of you and Steve, stopping as he ends up behind you. His hands wander from your shoulders, slowly caressing your arms, and you clamp your eyes shut in disgust.

“H- hey! Hands off of them!” Steve snaps, but the guard only laughs. Steve feels anger, white hot, building within him. 

The guard circles back around to Steve, and your eyes open back up cautiously. You feel yourself almost relax as his touch leaves you, but tense back up as you watch the guard lean behind Steve.

“Wh- wait- what are you doing?” You ask as you panic. The guard smirks before the sound of metal hitting the floor echoes out against the cold, empty walls. 

A beat of silence follows; with a swift motion, the guard pulls a syringe out from god knows where, plunging the needle into the side of Steve’s neck, catching him by surprise.

You gasp in horror as Steve cringes and hollers in pain, feeling helpless only being able to watch. It only lasts a moment before his head lolls forward onto your chest.

“What the fuck are you doing to him?!” You rasp out, tugging at the restraints your arms were still tightly bound in. Your eyes fall to Steve’s head resting on your chest, panicking as you wonder if he’s even still alive. 

He leans down to Steve’s ear, dangerously close to you, as his eyes are still locked with yours. “Don’t disappoint us.”

The guard backs up, slipping out the door, leaving you stunned and confused. Panic continued to build in your chest; all pleasure had left your body as you worried for Steve’s safety.

“What just-“ Your eyes dart from the door, then to Steve, repeating a few more times. “- What just happened? Steve? Are you okay?”

For a moment, Steve is still silent. You hold your breath, hopeful to hear his own breathing if you listen closely enough, but your heartbeat is painfully loud in your ears. 

It’s only a minute, maybe even less, but it feels like an eternity passes before you hear Steve groan. You sigh in relief.

“Oh my god, Steve,” You gasp, pushing yourself forward to try and push him off your chest. “Steve, wake up. Stay with me.”

A shaky breath rattles out of Steve before he speaks up, voice barely above a whisper. “You… you want… this… right?”

You nearly choke on air, trying to keep up with the whirlwind of emotions attached to the events unfolding in this underground base. 

“What do you mean?” You dare to ask. 

“I- I don’t think— I don’t know what that was, b- but I don’t feel s’good…” Steve breathes, voice wavering. 

Your brows furrow at Steve’s words. “You’re not making sense, Steve. What did they give you—”

You feel the words die in your throat as large, warm hands grip your hips. Steve slowly pulls his head up, flashing a devious smirk your way that makes your heart drop into your stomach.

The restraints holding Steve back had been undone, and whatever the fuck they injected into his veins had a strong hold over him now.

With gritted teeth, Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before looking at you once more. “Tell me- tell— tell me you’re okay with this-“

“With what Steve?” You counter, still lost. “What are you— look. Just untie me, we can get out of here if we stick together.”

Gaze still fixated on you, Steve’s fingers dig into your skin, gripping you with a desire that reflects in his eyes. 

“Not yet, sweetheart.” Steve murmurs, licking his swollen lips as his hands wander up your body, fingers splayed out as far as they can reach. “We’re just getting started.”

Frozen stiff— from fear or desire, you weren’t quite sure— you can only watch as Steve’s touch reaches your breasts, wasting no time in kneading. You melt into his touch, groaning, and it only tugs at the ends of his smirk even more.

Steve’s lips crash against yours, this time with more desperation and passion. You hear him whimper into your mouth as his tongue parts your lips, probably from the pain he still felt. Still, he pushes past the discomfort, massaging your tongue with his slowly.

You feel the slick of arousal build back up between your legs again, dripping down the strap still inside of you. It seems both you and Steve become aware of it again at the same time, because as you remember it’s presence, he bounces his leg up against your core.

Steve’s hands grip your hips again, guiding you as you ride the toy still strapped to his leg. A loud moan escapes you while Steve watches you with a heightened hunger.

“Y’get so wet so easily,” Steve husks, groaning as you work to build the pleasure back up within you again. “I bet you’d feel so fucking good and tight.”

Your stomach flips, but you’re so exhausted at this point, you can’t find the right words to keep up your end of the dirty talk. 

“Such a filthy girl, too.” Steve groans, leaning down to kiss your chest. He trails sloppy kisses across your skin before reaching a nipple, teasing with his mouth as he did before. “Fucking a toy to save our lives.”

You speed your hips up at his words, despite the ache growing in your legs, barely holding you up. If it wasn’t for Steve holding onto you, you’re sure you’d collapse onto the floor.

“And you thought they wanted you to humiliate me?” Steve laughs sharply into your skin before biting the sensitive bud in his mouth. “Look at you, being forced to ride my leg— an inanimate object on my leg, and you’ve been dripping to the fucking floor.”

“Steve…. ” you whine while panting.

“Tell me what you want, sweet girl.” Steve encourages at first, but his eyes grow dark as he grips your throat with one hand, teasing with your breath. “C’mon, use that cocky mouth you were running all summer. You had no problem telling me how much you hate me, honey. Why so quiet now?”

The combination of the exhaustion and the way Steve is talking to you begins to make you grow weak, overcome by pleasure, and you begin to drool on yourself a bit. Steve barks out a laugh, turned on and disgusted.

“Jesus, you’re filthy.” Steve said lowly, removing his hand from your throat before slapping your face. “Don’t act cock-drunk yet, you’re not even fucking the real thing.”

While panting, you manage to get out, “I… want it.”

Steve’s brows quirk up, knowing exactly what you’re talking about but he doesn’t give in so easily. His hand snakes down between the two of you, fingers immediately reaching for your soaking, wet core.

You jolt at the sensation of Steve’s fingers on your clit, rubbing in painstakingly slow circles. You buck your hips, trying to add pressure, but Steve laughs lowly and pulls his hand back, barely touching your clit.

As you whine in desperation, Steve asks, “What do you want?”

Drained, you let your head loll forward, resting against Steve’s shoulder as your hips began to slow and stutter. Your panting is shallow as you feel exhaustion begin to grip you tightly.

Steve groans, shoving his shoulder forward to try and push you off, but to no avail; your forehead still rested on him, feeling your eyes growing heavy.

Again, Steve groans, almost like he’s… fighting with himself. A few moments pass until he strains out, “... You- you can’t s-stop…”

“... Hm?” You hold onto consciousness for dear life, both metaphorically and physically speaking. 

Steve tucks his face into your neck, bouncing his leg softly, fucking the toy up into you, keeping you awake as you moan weakly.

“Let— let me take over,” he murmurs into your skin before kissing it gently. The soft touch of his lips against your neck sends shivers across your body. “D- do you trust me?”

“Y- yes, Steve,” You answer honestly, though still in a daze.

“Just— ” Steve forces out through gritted teeth before his mouth opens again, tongue darting out sharply to your skin before he bites down roughly. You cry out, feeling slightly alert again. “Ha- hang on for me, okay? I’ll take care of you… just hang on, can y’do that?”

As he waited for an answer, Steve began biting your neck again, sucking on the sensitive skin and soothing over the pain tingling across with his tongue. You groaned loudly in response.

“I need to- to hear you, babe,” Steve murmurs into your skin before biting once more, harder than the last time. You cry out at the sharp sensation. “Th- they’ll hurt us if— fuck!”

Steve inhales sharply, gripping into your skin with more force. You cry out at the pain as he shakes before crying out himself.

Whatever the guard gave him, he was able to fight off for a moment, but now it was just sinking deeper into his veins, taking full control again.

It’s probably too late at this point, but you still manage to blurt out, “I- I- I want you! I want you, Steve!”

Steve chuckles darkly into your neck before slowly licking a stripe up your skin, leading to your ear, panting heavily into it. “I know you do, sweetheart.”

In a quick, swift motion, Steve pulls you off of the toy while standing up, spinning you around before forcing your front against the nearest wall. Even through the roughness, the cool, metallic surface feels welcoming against your flushed skin.

With one hand, Steve holds you firmly by the back of your neck while he undoes the clasp of the strap around his leg, letting the toy fall to the floor. He quickly pushes his shorts down as best as he can with one hand before pressing himself against your backside.

You moan sinfully as you feel him, rock hard against your ass. Steve pants heavily while reaching around to your chest, groping your tits roughly.

“Mnph… S- Steve, please—”

One of his large hands reaches down to your ass, smacking harshly, earning a sharp cry from you again.

“You’ll take what I give you,” His voice is gravelly, serious. “Understood?”

You nod quickly, both startled and aroused. “Y- yes, Steve.”

“Good girl.”

Slowly, Steve kisses down your back, down your arms still bound behind you, before kneeling as he reaches your backside. You shiver under each, sloppy, wet kiss he leaves behind as he inches further and further down.

As he reaches the swell of your ass, he begins biting into the skin, gently, then gradually with more force as moves down. 

“Spread your legs, babe.” Steve murmurs as he pushes your feet apart. He grabs you by the ankles, pulling you from the wall a bit, and you hold yourself up as best as you can with your upper body still against the surface.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck this tight, sweet cunt so bad,” Steve groans into your skin, hooking his arms around your thighs, pulling your ass closer to his face. “But I wanna taste you so much more.”

A breath shudders out of you before Steve kisses your soaked folds lightly. He sucks slowly on your folds before delving his tongue between them, collecting your arousal onto his lips.

You push your ass out further, desperate to feel more of Steve’s mouth on you, and greedily responds by sucking roughly on your clit. 

“Oh… oh, fuck,” Your moans begin to fill the empty space around the two of you. Steve groans into your skin, vibrations adding to the pleasure he’s creating with his tongue. “M- more… god!”

Steve pulls back, laughing at your desperation while you whine. “Jesus Christ, I knew you wanted me, but you’re such a needy fuckin’ slut.” 

He falls silent for a moment before spreading your cheeks and spitting onto your tight hole. You gasp in shock, knees growing weak as you feel Steve tease a finger around your entrance.

“Y’know, I bet your mouth would feel so good around my cock…” Steve mumbles before spitting again, spreading the saliva around your skin before slowly pushing a finger into your tight ring. Your eyes roll back in your head. “It’s a better use than you running it all the fuckin’ time. God— some days I just wanted to- to push you to your knees and shove my cock down your throat to shut you up.”

At this point you feel yourself begin drooling onto your body again, and Steve notices the mess trailing down onto the wall in front of you.

“Filthy slut… such a filthy, dirty girl,” Steve groans, slowly fingering your ass. “You’re gonna cum for me before I fuck your brains out, understand?”

Before you can answer, Steve’s lips are back on your core, flicking his tongue against your clit with precision. All that tumbles out of your mouth are breathy moans. 

You look down to the floor and see Steve look up at you, position switched as he’s eating you out from the front, still fingering your ass and groping your cheek with his free hand. Though you can only see his eyes, you can tell he’s smirking while watching you come undone above him.

Steve adds a second finger into your cunt while groaning at how wet you are, how easily his digit slides in. Your head spins as he continues to finger fuck both your holes while lapping away at your clit. Your legs begin to shake, and Steve lets out a breathy laugh from between your thighs.

“M’close…” You whimper, flexing your wrists as far as you could between the restraints; you wanted nothing more than to pull on Steve’s hair right now, make him moan.

“Already?” Steve asks, pulling back from your core with his chin and lips glistening. He’s flashing a fake, mocking pout up at you. The sight makes your pussy throb as he continues fingering you. “I just started playing with you, babe.”

In your desperation to reach the high you’ve been chasing this whole time, you whine out, “I- I promise, you can do as much as you want— whenever you want!”

His tongue flicks lightly across your clit, but pulls back, leaving you whining in disappointment. “Yeah? This your truce? You finally gonna admit you’ve always liked me?”

You roll your eyes and huff, “Steve, no- now’s not the time—”

“Admit it.” Steve orders, voice low before he spits onto your cunt. You groaned at the sensation of his spit rolling over your clit, adding to the wetness from your arousal. “Admit you’ve always liked me. You’ve always had the hots for me, always wanted to fuck me—”

“Steve!”

“Sorry, right, you wanted me to fuck you.” Steve teases, driving you mad at this point. His fingers begin to slow, barely fucking you. “Just say the words, sweetheart, and I’ll let you cum.”

Taking a few deep breaths and rolling your eyes, you give in. 

“Fine! Fine, okay!” You yelp out, twitching when Steve sucks on your clit for a second before pulling back again. You felt like you were going to die if you didn’t finally climax.

Which… yeah, that was technically the truth down here.

“Fine? Okay? What’s fine and okay, babe?”

You huff, ready to slam your thighs together on his irritating, cocky, pretty head. For a quick second, you almost do, but you remember neither of you are making it out of this room until the both of you climax, all for the guards’ pleasure.

This is so fucked up.

“God- fucking—”You pause as Steve leans back in to spit again, and a moan tumbles out of you. “— yes, okay, I- I- like you, Steve!”

Smirking, he leans in to swirl his tongue around your sensitive bud, just enough to feel good, but not enough to reach that high. 

“And?”

“And- and- and I really like you, and always have,” You begin to stutter out. Steve’s tongue continues its pace. “I’ve always thought you were— oh, god- you— I want you to fu- fuck me, Steve. Please.”

Sickeningly sweet, he responds, “Anything for you, sweet girl,” before delving into your folds again, fully focusing his attention on the spot you needed him the most. 

His fingers pick up speed again, and you’re thankful he’s got a good grip on your legs, or you’re certain you’d fall over by now.

You can’t stop the noises from escaping your lips as he continues his pace on ruining your body in the best ways possible. He hums into your core; the vibrations push you closer to the edge and your eyes close in bliss.

It’s only a moment longer before you’re shaking, orgasm ripping through your body while stars explode behind your lids. Mouth falling open in a silent scream, you feel yourself really let go. You swear, you’ve never felt this good by anyone before, not even your own actions on lonely nights.

Finally, a scream leaves your body in ecstasy, and Steve’s moans nearly match yours as he watches you reach your high above him.

“Fuck... that’s so... hot.” He rasps out. You open your eyes to his words to find his face covered in the aftermath of your high.

You feel embarrassment as heat creeps along your face in shame. “Oh- oh my god… Steve, I’m so sorry- I- I- didn’t even know I could do that-“

Steve licks his lips as they twist into a smirk up at you, pulling himself back along with his hand out of you. You whine at the loss and shiver as you watch him suck on his fingers, groaning around them.

A blush creeps across his face as he breaks through the haze of the drug again, only for a moment, but you don’t miss it.

“I- you— don’t apologize,” Steve says meekly, running a hand through his hair, also damp as well from the sweat and your climax. “That- that was my fucking dream—”

You almost laugh at how dorky he sounds, but notice how he tenses up again. His breathing becomes shallow as he winces, trying to fight it off.

“Steve,” You call out, worried. “We just have to finish and then we’re out of here, okay? You- you have to help me out here, I can’t move well with my hands still tied.”

Steve struggles at first to get to his feet, letting the substance in his body regain control again, but he manages to stand up between you and the wall. You’re more aware now than you ever have been of how he towers over you, shivering as he looks at you like you’re some sort of prey.

“You’ve been so good for me,” Steve says as he pushes a strand of hair from your face gently. His touch is soft, almost too soft for the way he’s been acting tonight. “I’ll let you pick the way you want me to fuck you.”

You gulp sharply, before responding with no hesitation, “Against the wall.”

Steve smirks, laughing lowly. “You were just against it, sweetheart.”

“I- I- yeah, I know,” You agree, blushing. Steve’s hand slowly cards through your hair before tugging, causing you to whine. “I mean like— my back against the wall. I- I wanna see you when you cum inside me, Steve.”

Steve groans and in a flash, he’s pulling you by your hair, slamming you against the wall. You gasp at the sudden movement, watching as Steve quickly pulls his clothes off before pressing himself against you. 

Your heart sinks at the sight of more injuries across his body, blooming in radiant shades of purples and reds and blues. Steve slams his mouth against yours in a rough, quick kiss, pulling you from your worries of him. There’d be plenty of time later to clean up and care for each other.

He hoists you up by your legs, holding you tight as you’re balanced up against the wall. Steve looks between your bodies before spitting between them, coating his swollen cock in the makeshift lube.

“Please…” You whimper as Steve runs the head of his cock up and down your folds teasingly. He smirks at you before plunging in all at once, shuddering out a breathy moan of his own.

You heard the rumors back in school; you knew Steve was somewhat decent in bed, you just had no fucking clue he was packing the length and girth he had. Your head falls against his shoulder, biting the skin to hold back a scream as he stretches you out.

Steve’s brows furrow slightly before forcing out, “You… you… okay?”

You hum and nod in response, rasping out, “Move.”

Steve’s hips roll slowly into yours at first; you can tell he’s trying so hard to go easy on you. The real Steve would’ve wanted this first time to be slow and soft, still where he’s dominant, but caring and gentle. But, he’s not in control right now.

You, on the other hand… you’re not sure if you could say the same about your desires for the first time with Steve. 

As he moves in and out of you with ease, pushing against your slick walls, you feel his cock twitch a little already.

“Whoa… you gonna cum this soon?”

Steve’s eyes turn dark as he slams into you. “Sh- shut up.”

Your stomach flips at the change back to this dominant, rough demeanor, and decide to push it further.

“Aww, is Steve gonna finish faster than I did?” You tease, and Steve’s pace picks up, slamming into you harder. You cry out, watching his expression turn frustrated.

“I said, shut up.” Steve spits, fucking you harder. Your eyes begin to roll back into your head.

“What? Can’t handle being teased, Stevie?” You continue to mock him, enjoying the way he’s reacting to it. “Don’t you like it? Don’t you— ”

Steve pulls you away from the wall and out of you before he shoves you towards the chair. As you stumble onto it, Steve unlatches the restraints, letting your hands fall to the back of the chair just in time to hold you up.

Bent over, Steve smacks your ass roughly before slamming back into you. You lurch forward and cry out again before he begins his steady, rough pace into you again.

“You’re such a fucking brat. Such a filthy, insatiable, brat.” Steve growls through gritted teeth, pounding into you relentlessly. 

All you can do is continue to let your moans echo against the metallic walls in response.

Steve’s hands reach around to your face, gripping you for a moment before opening your mouth, hooking his fingers into your cheeks. You begin drooling all over yourself as he pulls at your mouth while continuing to rail you.

Again, all you can do is cry out… and make a terrible mess with your spit.

“God- fuck-“ Steve groans out, rutting into you mercilessly. “I- I’m gonna— where do you—”

“In me!” You manage to yell out around his fingers still in your mouth.

Steve’s breath hitches as he fights the drug again. “You… are you…sure?” His hands fall from your face and grip your hips tightly.

“I’ve never been so fucking sure of anything in my life,” You hurry out, gripping onto the chair while your knuckles grew white. You moan out sinfully, “Fill me up, Steve.”

Almost on command, Steve releases into you, coating your walls with his arousal while sloppily thrusting any energy he has left into you.

He feels like his high shoots him straight up to the stars. Even if it was fueled by that nasty mystery drug, it doesn’t matter to him. Not in the moment as your cunt milks out every last drop from him, just like he always dreamed of.

As you try to catch your breath, you rest your head onto your hands on top of the chair, closing your eyes as you feel him inside you. Steve slowly pulls out, groaning at the loss of you squeezing him, as you do the same at the loss of him inside you.

“Fuck… Steve….”

“I- did I just- did we just-“ 

You look back to see Steve, back to his doe-eyed, slightly shyer, dorkier self, blushing as he looks back at you. He can’t tell if he wants to cry or laugh this whole thing off, and you can sense the conflict in his feelings.

“Steve- it’s okay. We’re okay, I promise.” You pant out as you search his face, watching the real him break through.

 His eyes fall to your cunt, dripping from your mixed juices, and he groans as he palms himself before dropping to his knees. As he grips your thighs, you gasp in surprise while feeling his tongue run up your folds slowly, lapping up every last drop. 

You shiver and twitch from the overstimulation, still shaky from your orgasm from earlier.

“Fuck. Fuck.” You breathe out, exhausted and in disbelief of what just happened. Steve presses a kiss to the swell of your ass before moving to his feet.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you up right before sitting you in the chair properly. He searches your face carefully, looking for any signs of distress “You okay? I’m so- god. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

You cup his face in your hands softly, giving him a weak, but sincere smile. “Fucked up… but I wouldn’t have wanted this with anyone but you. Are you okay?”

Steve kisses your forehead softly before nodding, still shaking himself. “M- might ask you to stay over later… could use some aftercare. Kinda want to check on you too. Y’know… if we make it out alive.”

A loud buzz echoes in the room, followed by a clicking noise. You and Steve turn to see the door slowly, automatically open. 

“Is… are they… can we go?” You ask, and Steve’s eyes dart between you and the door before pulling you up.

“Let’s get dressed and get the fuck outta here.” Steve rushes out, pulling you behind him.

You tug his arm back, and Steve spins to quickly run into you with a soft “oof!” Reaching up to him, you press your lips against his, savoring one more kiss before leaving this horrid room, this time, soft and slow.

You mumble against his lips, “I don’t think I’ll be leaving your side anytime soon.”

[vinamari]

♥︎OPPOSITE ♥︎

Jiji Enjoji x Yokai! Reader

Jiji that meets a reader who usually keeps to themselves, however with their Yokai side, they turn into a flirtatious character who gives back the same energy

A/N: Let me know if you want more between Jiji & Yokai! Reader

〜》 Jiji Enjoji who was adamant to get to know you after seeing you with Momo

“Hey there, the names Jin Enjoji but you can call me Jiji”, he said pointing at you while making an odd pose with his thumb and forefinger. “And you are…?” He asked squiggling his brows while glancing between Momo and you. “Oh, uhm- my names Y/N L/N-“, you spoke after being a bit thrown off by his extreme outgoing personality. However suddenly you’re cut off by Momo, “Don’t act like that you weirdo! You just met”, she sighed heavily at his mannerisms as she put her hand to her head. Watching you being dragged by her to class as he calls out.

“wait!-”

〜》 Jiji Enjoji who notices how you don’t involve yourself in conversations let alone have the energy to hold one

For the past few minutes all he heard was you mumble ‘yeah’, ‘really?’, without quite paying attention to what’s going on, and rather focusing on your assignment. Well THAT was how it was going until he decides to sit directly in front of you.

You turn around to look at him for what feels like a full five seconds before realizing that he is just staring at you.

You don’t seem bothered by the fact that he is blatantly ogling you while doing your assignment. Instead, you give him the most straight face that you can possibly manage, which makes him break into a wide grin. That seems to be the last thing you need right now, considering the task ahead of you.

In all fairness, you should really focus more on the assignment than on the guy next to you. “So-“, taking a glance at him. His lips were puckered as he continued chattering to only you and from time to time even making kissy noises.

‘Man this guy is totally weird’, your expression falls into that one of disbelief as you blink incredulously, raising your eyebrow at his behavior and just listening to his rambling unable to get any work done and being forced to give input on nonsensical questions.

‘Anxiety definitely doesn’t exist with this guy’

〜》 Jiji Enjoji who finds out exactly who reader is, or well…Yokai! Reader

“Huh?!”, Momo said as she struggled against Seiko over a crab leg. “Y/N? Oh she’s the same as the both of you”, trying to point at Okarun and him at the same time. “STOP IT YOU OLD HAG”, she yelled, trying to shove her grandma’s hand away from the crab plate.

“She’s also whatever we are?”, Jiji shocked by what he heard which soon turned into whining. “Why didn’t you tell me”, seeming as if he was going to cry from this so called betrayal. Momo rolled her eyes with exasperation after she finally fought off her grandmother. “If you’re gonna be shocked by that, you’ll be even more shocked with what they turn into”, a haunting expression painting her face remembering your mannerisms. “A real way with words”, Okarun says throwing in his two cents as he adjusts his glasses and goes into grab a crab leg, which only ends with his hands being swatted away by turbo granny.

“So tel-“

A flash is within the room which covers the entire area with fog before disappearing to reveal you, or well…you as your Yokai self. You’re looking down at Jiji, who’s mouth is still hung open as he points towards you. “Guys I don’t know if you know this..but I think there’s a stranger in the room?!”, forcing out the string of words seeing how your shadow overwhelms his. “Hey kid”, Seiko said as she flails around her crab, “You an idiot? That’s the girl you were just talking about”, while she tries to take another crab from Momo’s plate. “Hey damn it-“, as they roughhouse once more.

He tries to take a peek at you, but you were already in his face. Noses practically against each other, “You’re pretty cute”.

’huh?’

Suddenly he was being bombarded with questions,

“So do you have a girlfriend?!”

“You’re pretty hot”

“What’s your type?!”

“Babe, let’s get married”, staring at your googly eyes which were looking at him up and down, sweat began to form at his temple and down his cheek. He swears your eyes shaped into hearts.

You were all over the place, “A handful, ain’t they?”, a white cat spoke from besides him as they both watch you fawn over him. “Wasn’t this bad with the other two”, snorting as turbo granny and him finally watched you go back to your original form. “And another word won’t come out for the rest of the night”, walking away to also get whatever’s left of the crabs before getting struck by a fan. “BACK AWAY YOU CAT-TURD ROTTEN TANGERINE”.

He pulls away his eyes from them and focuses it at your exhausted form, you and him were such opposites.

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 30: Birthday

I have chosen violence with all of my promptober responses, this one is no different. That being said, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1531

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"Robots can't have birthdays, silly!"

You set down the box you're carrying, glancing up to Sun, "You don't think?"

"Of course not," He scolds, pulling out another strand of streamers to hang up, "We're not born, we're made!"

You pull a bag of balloons out of the box, "Yeah, but still, there was a point where you didn't exist, and now you do. I'd still consider that a birthday."

Sun seems to ponder your words for a moment, rays spinning idly.

You blow up a few balloons, watching as he puts his fingers under his chin, staring at the ground as he taps his foot in thought. It makes you giggle and lose the air in you'd built up in your balloon. 

He comes to a decision finally, nodding once as he looks back to you, "I suppose you're right! Though, I can't seem to recall when that would be, to be honest."

"Well, we could always pick a day," You get more supplies out of the box, there should be a staff bot stopping by with cake and pizza anytime now, "If you want."

You start organizing party supplies, counting out what party favors you have and may need to run and grab more of for prizes and such during games. The bot helping you has gone quiet, and you assume that the conversation is therefore over. That doesn't last, however. 

You feel Sun's presence before you see him, he bends down to your level, tone in awe, uncertain, "Really? You mean that?"

You nod. 

"Would, would today be alright? After, after the party, of course."

You smile, using both hands to cup his faceplate, "Of course," You kiss him softly, then pull away, "If that's what you'd like. Moon can pick his own day, if he wants."

Sun's rays spin rapidly, and he has to use his hand to stop them. He speaks dazed, "Today is fine, he said."

You chuckle, "Today it is, then."

You finish setting up for the party, and it goes off without a hitch. Sun, very excited at the prospect of celebrating his own 'birthday' only does the basics of cleaning up, leaving up the decorations and the likes to give them an additional use.

You order another cake from Chica's, and after some calculated thinking, manage to come up with a decent gift for him and Moon both. 

To Sun's disappointment, Moon gets to go first, as the cycle hits just right for it. 

"You know I can't eat cake, right Star?" Moon chuckles as he sits down across from you at the miniature table. You'd stuck a party hat on his head, and while it looked silly with his other hat, it simply had to be done.

You flick on the lighter, lighting the candles, "True, but you still get to make a wish! So let me sing and just sit there looking pretty, alright?"

"Alright," His tone is smooth but with the quiet noise of his fans you know the comment flustered him. 

You sing, and once you're finished, Moon blows out the candles by clapping once, the resulting air extinguishing them. You cheer and after smearing a bit of cake across his faceplate, hold out his gift. You found some stars and moons themed wrapping paper lying around, making for the perfect gift, even if you'd just come up with it during the previous party.

He finishes removing the frosting from his features, "You didn't have to get us a gift, you know. This was a 'last-minute' decision as you would say."

"Well, I would also say that it's your birthday, and I got you a gift," You hold up Sun's gift in your other hand, wrapped in red and yellow paper, "And Sun! I figured you would argue otherwise."

Moon snickers, taking his present from you, "You would be correct."

He takes a moment to shake it, but doesn't seem to figure out what it is. He then methodically unwraps it revealing a sketch book.

"You always talk about wanting to draw, but with being the naptime attendant not getting to so..." You trail off.

He hums, then laughs. Then, reaches over and takes your hand, pressing it to his smile, "It's wonderful, thank you."

You cough, face hot, "There's um, a couple little sketches in there of mine, to get you started. And a message. But don't look at it until you're alone! Okay?"

"I won't," He promises.

After that, Sun becomes very impatient, insisting on opening his present before blowing out his candles. 

You laugh as he all but snatches your gift to him from you, ripping it open in a rush, "You're supposed to make a wish first!"

"Wishes can wait, this is far more important!" He says, finally disposing of the last of the packaging. 

Inside awaits a music box, which he immediately starts winding the key to. Once wound, the box pops open, a small glass couple are revealed to be dancing to Pas de Deux, from the Nutcracker. 

Sun's stare is hyper focused on the box and its occupants, hardly moving an inch as the tune plays, and the couple spin round and round. When they finish, there's a click as a small compartment opens, you put your hand over Sun's before he can reach into it and grab the paper inside. 

"Ah, ah, that's for later, please," You glance up at him, slightly nervous, "What um, what do you think?"

His words are soft and full of adoration, "Oh Sunshine, I love it. It's so thoughtful! I didn't know you'd remember how much I like the song."

"Of course I would. I introduced you to it, didn't I?" You tease.

Something clicks for him then, "This is your music box. I, I can't have this, it belongs to you."

"Sun, I gave you both something that meant a lot to me, so much so that I want you to keep it as a way to think of me, yeah?"

His hands entwines with yours, nodding once, "Yeah."

"Good. Now, how about that wish, hm?"

He nods again, "Right! The best for last!"

You light the candles for a second time, and sing once more. However, when Sun goes to clap out the candles, one stubborn candle remains lit. He claps again, and again. A final large clap makes it go out, only to lit back up again. 

Your snickering becomes audible, and he catches on to what's happened. 

Sun gasps, "Starlight! You would pull a prank on me?"

You burst out laughing then as his scolding raises in volume, having to take several minutes to calm down again. 

The memory fades out as you sit down at your kitchen table, scootching your chair in after a moment. 

There's no one sitting across from you, there's no one else in your home. It's just you, a lighter, and some unlit candles sitting on a cake. 

You stare at the cake for a moment, then grab the lighter. One by one you light the candles. You'd considered adding a joke candle this year, but you don't think you have the heart for it. Maybe next year, you always tell yourself. 

On a nearby wall is your calendar, today's date circled. It's the one from that following year, you never could bring yourself to take it down and replace it, instead utilizing your phone and a calendar in your office instead. That one was much more subtle with its markings. Just a small note scribbled in the corner of the day's square. It made you feel guilty each year you wrote it down so unceremoniously.

It's relatively dark in your apartment, a singular light on over the sink. It makes the shadows caused by the candles that much larger, and the flames seem to burn that much brighter. You've never been a fan of fire. That only got worse after what happened. 

You're stalling, you know it. You'd better start before the wax starts dripping into the frosting and wastes a perfectly good cake. Not that you were very hungry anyway. 

You lick your lips, voice unsteady, "Ha-Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday to you..."

Tears start to well up and fall soon thereafter, your throat begins to tighten, but, you continue. 

"Happy, b-birth d-day dear-" Their faces flash through your mind once, but it's more than enough. A sob wracks through you and you have to stop singing. 

Your hands come up to your face, crying openly but embarrassed, even in the comfort of your own home. 

After a minute or so, you take a deep breath, collecting yourself. The candles are still burning. You owe them this.

You pick up after the point you left, to save yourself a little grief, "H-happy birthday t-t-to you..."

You wait another moment, your sniffling being the only noise in the quiet kitchen. Then, you blow them out, and you're left in half-hearted darkness. 

You wipe your eyes and sigh, "Happy birthday, boys. I love you."

You stare at the cake like it's somehow going to make them appear. Make the last several years disappear along with your heartache and grief like some bad dream.

It doesn't.

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Man I am NOT treating you all nicely with these last few huh? Bah, you can handle it I'm sure, besides, we've got one more that I think you'll really enjoy. Or at least, I'm going to :) 

Promptober list is here, and if you'd like to check in on the Spoovember schedule you can find that here. Thanks for reading!!

[redrosydiaz]

daily drabble day 16 Extended Edition™

find the original drabble here!

“Okay, what?” Eddie huffs out after the fourth time he catches Buck’s eyes not-so-subtly flicker towards him out of his peripherals.

“Nothing,” Buck replies, too quick, too casual.

“I don’t believe you,” Eddie counters, narrowing his eyes. They drop down to Buck’s phone, which is conveniently angled away from Eddie.

Nothing my ass.

“What, Buck?” Eddie repeats, more insistent. 

Buck sighs deeply. “Nothing, Eddie,” he says, matching Eddie’s tone.

Eddie resists the urge to stick his tongue out at him. He’s not twelve, even if Buck wants to act like he is.

But… curiosity killed the cat. And it’s not like boundaries have ever existed between them anyway, so, really, if Buck didn’t want him to know, he shouldn’t have sat himself down right next to Eddie before acting all weird.

All that to say — Eddie lunges.

Buck squeaks.

A tussle breaks out.

Buck twists away from Eddie, hunching his shoulders and curling protectively over his phone, which he draws closer to his chest. He flails out his arm to try and throw Eddie off as Eddie scrambles to his knees and practically plasters himself to Buck’s back.

In the fray, however, Buck forgets the obvious: to lock his phone. And Eddie— from his new vantage point, he catches a glimpse.

Of a text chain. A familiar name. Of a photo. Photos.

Eddie freezes, half hanging off of Buck’s neck.

“Oh, shit,” Buck murmurs, and the screen goes black, a second too late.

“How did you—”

“Your sister,” Buck admits, too easily.

Hah, Adriana, Eddie instinctively wants to gloat, sold out so fast, but—

“You’re texting my sister? She’s— sending you baby photos?”

Buck tilts his head, and his grin is blinding. “So many baby photos.”

Horror and embarrassment and the spiked fear of oh god, please, not the tastefully nude cowboy hat one from when I was three flash through Eddie in equal measures, and he opens his mouth to— to what, he doesn’t even know. He closes it, then opens it again, and all that comes out is something strangled.

And then he pounces again. Loops his arm properly over Buck’s shoulder, curling around the front of his chest to try and make another grab for his phone.

A surprised noise slips from Buck, but he had to have been at least half expecting Eddie to make another move. He rolls with it seamlessly, doubling over even further and squishing himself into the side of the sofa.

“You have to delete them,” Eddie says, begs, “all of them. Oh my god, Buck, please. Right now. You cannot have those.”

More laughter spills out of Buck and he shakes his head. “No way,” he says, far too delighted. “I am never getting rid of these. Are you kidding? I am going to treasure them— for the rest of forever, Eddie.”

Footsteps ricochet off the stairs, moving closer and closer, but neither of them notice, too caught up in their squabble. Eddie swings a leg over Buck’s thigh, his foot hitting the ground hard. His other knee digs into the cushion behind Buck, and he looms over him, arm trapped beneath Buck and still grabbing for the phone, which Buck continues to block and parry.

And then a throat clears from a few feet away.

They both freeze, heads turning slowly at the same time.

Chimney stands just at the top of the stairs, squared up with his hands on his hips and a question in his eyes. “Do I even want to know?” He asks.

Eddie scowls. “No.”

He can feel Buck’s grin spread against his bicep. “I have Eddie’s baby photos,” Buck sing-songs. Taunts.

Chimney’s hesitancy turns to absolute glee, and a shit-eating grin slinks onto his face. “Oh,” he croons, “please tell me you’re sharing with the class, Buckley.”

Eddie feels Buck perk up beneath him. “Here,” he says, finally tapping into some of that upper body strength he’d been holding back. “Let me show you my favorite,” he says, then throws his shoulders back. 

“Absolutely not!”

Chimney cackles and shouts over his shoulder, “Hen!”

Eddie, who had already been pretzeled into a precarious position around Buck, half on the couch, half off, teeters on the toe of his foot, but one more shove from Buck and he loses his balance, falling back and almost off the couch completely.

It gives Buck enough time to jump to his feet and dart away, towards Chimney, who immediately latches onto his side, peering over his shoulder as Buck unlocks his phone.

Recognizing when he has lost a battle, Eddie sinks lower into the couch. “You are the worst best friend,” he whines, not even caring how petulant it sounds.

Buck turns his brilliant smile onto Eddie and laughs. “No I’m not,” he says, so confident, “you love me.”

All Eddie can do is bury his face into his hands and groan. There’s really no denying that, baby picture betrayal and all.

[changenameno]

Fingerblast PART 1

(Complete, link for the second part, down below ⬇️)

Summary:

It’s the middle of summer and therefore incredibly hot. Of course right then something had to be wrong with your AC. How fortunate for you that a handyman can come right over…

Pairing: Syverson x Short Fem. Reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cursing, explicit description of sex, thirst trap named Sy, teasing, size kink, chasing?, choking (if you squint?), p in v (use of y/n = Your first name) -> most of these warnings apply to the second part

Word count: 1.3 K

A/N: Okay here goes my first attempt at writing smut…This is way longer than I intended it to become, whoops. Honestly this just came to me while stumbling over a song (aka the title of this specific fic 🤣). Also I think this reads a little like a bad porn video SORRY…but anyway….here goes nothing🙈😅….

It’s not proofread, any mistakes are my own. Please be kind, comments/reblogs are very appreciated…Thank you❤️✨

!Syverson is not my own creation (unfortunately)! And the song/lyrics don’t belong to me either!

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PART 1

It hadn’t even been twenty minutes since you’ve called but apparently the handyman had just arrived, if the heavy rumble of tires on gravel was anything to go by. So you made your way onto your porch, because honestly it didn’t make any difference if you’d wait in- or outside.

The heat had been crawling into your house since sunrise and now it was nearly more stifling inside, than out on your shaded porch. And at least here the stone beneath your bare feet was somewhat cooling.

You squinted at the huge red pickup truck now parked not far from your house.

Whoever was still seated inside was listening to music, clearly above a healthy decibel level, because you could hear it blasting even from where you stood quite a distance away.

At that exact moment the door swung open and you heard just a snippet of the song still playing, “Use my index, I can use my thumb.

Even use my pinky, it'll make you come. Close your eyes, it'll happen real fast

I just got you off with a fingerblast…”.Before you could hear more the door of the truck shut loudly. The sudden noise almost startling you.

Shaking your head you tried to compose yourself after overhearing what must have been a most charming song. You took a step forward, hell bent on pretending you hadn’t heard anything. Only now you’d noticed the mammoth of a man that had existed the truck.

Chiding yourself on how you hadn’t noticed him before.

You wrote it off as shock, because how else could you not have noticed the biggest fricking man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Said man raised his left hand in greeting, while pushing his sunglasses up on his shaved head with the other. He wore a red T-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. Realizing you stared way too long at the handsome stranger without reciprocating his greeting, you quickly waved back; albeit a bit too late, as he had already turned his back to you.

Fortunately for you, he took his sweet time getting to his toolbox or whatever. Giving you the perfect opportunity to stare some more and that you did.

Good god, how did his shirt not rip when he moved? All that muscle had you salivating.

As he turned towards you, with his toolbox in hand, you couldn’t help but notice the ominous bulge in his shorts.

And then one thought lead to another, having you think about, how something entirely different would most certainly rip, upon his movement. That image had you clenching and swallowing thickly.

“Hey, I take it, you’re hav’n problems with your AC?” he drawled in a rough southern accent. You didn’t trust your voice, lest only a squeak would leave you, so you shook your head yes.

“Alright then, may I come ‘n?” He continued, an amused expression on his face, after you didn’t make a move to let him past you or into your house.

Finally you found your voice again, “Mmh yes, please do come…in,” you finished awkwardly, wanting to hit yourself for behaving like a middle schooler with a major crush.

It didn’t seem to bother him though, he simply chuckled deeply and entered your living room. As he walked by, you caught a whiff of his colon along with what must be his own natural musk, making you swoon on the spot. Damn it, he even smelled fucking fantastic.

From inside he called, “The name ‘s Syverson by the way, if you were wonderin’. But everyone calls me Sy anyway.”

Taking a second to draw a deep breath to calm your nerves and more accurately calm your ovaries, you headed in, after him.

He was standing in the middle of your living room, toolbox standing on your little coffee table, taking in your interior. Shaking your head, as if you could rid yourself of any indecent thoughts, you studied him once more.

Sy was big in every way possible, from his height, to his built and presence. Easily taking over your normally at least middle sized living room, making it seem shrunken.

This time you were a little bit more prepared when his sparkling blue eyes landed on you. Smiling you replied, “I’m y/n. Thank you for being here so quickly. The AC is right over there.” With a wave of your hand, you gestured in the direction of your adjacent kitchen, where the damned thing was let into the wall. He picked up the toolbox once more, before he followed closely behind.

As you lead the way into the kitchen, you could feel him staring at you hungrily, making you shiver from anticipation alone.

Sy swallowed thickly as the white dress you wore, showed even more of your pretty legs, with every bouncy step you took. Once in the kitchen you pointed up, at the opened AC. “I don’t know what seems to be the problem, normally if I do this…” you tried reaching the green button, even going as far as getting on your tiptoes, to show him, what normally did the trick.

As if hypnotized, he kept staring at the hem of your dress continuing to ride up, now almost getting a glimpse of your perfectly white panties. Fuck it, he thought as he drew impossibly closer, putting the toolbox on the kitchen counter in one swift movement.

You squeaked in response, when you felt his broad chest collide with your back. Before you could lose your balance, a beefy arm pulled you back by your midsection and against his sturdy body. A hot breath tickled your ear as he growled, “Darlin’ that dress of yours, might be a tad short for what you had in mind.”

His deep, lust filled voice made you reckless so you purred right back,” Mmmh I think it’s quite perfect for what I had in mind, no?” To emphasize your point, you pushed your rear purposefully against his groin, making him growl some more. “Careful there sweetheart, once the beast is awakened, it got a hankering…and…for one thing only.” You could undoubtedly hear his cocky grin. So you playfully replied, “Oh no, we certainly don’t want that now, do we? You know what they say, about sleeping dogs …”

Following your teasing you grabbed his arm and swiftly pulled it away to be able to slip from his grasp. Striding over to the door, making sure to sway your hips, all the while stifling your giggles. When you turned around, lightly leaning against the doorway, Sy still stood unmoving, glaring at you with dilated pupils. He was sure he’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted to have you.

One more push and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. You bit the insides of your cheeks, trying to conceal the gleeful smile forming on your lips. Deliberately slow you blinked up at him, readying yourself for what you were about to do next, “Catch me if you can…” You didn’t wait for his reaction, you just bolted through the doorway and straight up the stairs.

PART 2

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[httpsdana]

heyyy i know your requests are closed rn but keep this for when they reopen or don’t do whatever but please do prompt n°16 from the angst list for Xavi simons please and thank youu

Taken for Granted~Xavi Simons

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: next fic is either a Max or Oscar one. But the whole thing of war in my country isnt going really well but hopefully I can write it very soon 🙏🏻

16-"We’re stuck in this endless cycle, and I’m so tired.№

The music of the club vibrated through her body, making her heart pound in sync with the beat. She took a sip of her drink, the bitterness taking over as her eyes scanned the room for her friends.

They dragged her out tonight while insisting that she needed a distraction. She hadn’t planned on having fun. How could she when her mind was stuck on him?

Xavi. Her best friend. The boy she had been in love with for years. The boy who had recently started dating a popular influencer, parading their relationship all over social media.

She hated that it hurt so much, but it did. And it wasn’t the first time, either. Every time someone new showed up, Xavi would forget about her, caught up in the thrill of something shiny and exciting.

It was always the same cycle. Him chasing after someone else, and her being left behind to pick up the pieces of her own heart.

She should have known better than to come here. Clubs had never been her scene, and her thoughts were too loud despite the noise around her.

Just as she was about to text her friends and tell them she was heading home, a familiar figure caught her eye.

Xavi was sitting by the bar…alone. He looked distant...maybe even sad. She swallowed hard, debating whether to approach him or just leave before he noticed her.

But her feet moved on their own, weaving through the crowd until she was right in front of him, in the corner where the music wasnt too loud. He looked up, surprise flashing across his face.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low enough to be heard over the music.

She forced a smile, shrugging. "Just out with friends. You?"

He glanced down at his phone, shoving it into his pocket. "Needed to clear my head."

Something in his tone made her heart clench. She didn’t want to care, didn’t want to feel that familiar tug of sympathy. But she did. "Trouble in paradise?" she teased lightly, though it lacked any real humor.

Xavi’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, fingers running through his curls. "We had a fight. It’s just-never mind. It’s stupid anyway."

y/n bit her tongue, resisting the urge to comfort him. She had done that too many times before, and it never ended well. "Why didn’t you tell me? You usually do."

He sighed, finally looking at her, his eyes softening. "I didn’t want to bother you. Besides, I figured you wouldn’t want to hear about it."

She scoffed, the bitterness seeping through. "Right. Because that’s how it always goes, yeah? You find someone new, forget I exist, and then come running back when it falls apart. Rinse and repeat."

His eyes widened as confusion and guilt battled for dominance. "That’s not-"

"Don’t," she cut him off, her voice shaky despite her attempt to stay calm. "We’re stuck in this endless cycle, and I’m so tired. I'm tired of being forgotten and then remembered whenever it’s convenient for you."

Silence took over them, none of them daring to say another word. Xavi looked at her like he had never seen her before, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find something to say. She hated how her chest ached, how her eyes stung with unshed tears.

"I didn’t know you felt that way," he whispered, stepping closer.

She took a step back, shaking her head. "Of course you didn’t. You never notice until it’s too late."

He reached out, grabbing her hand before she had the chance to pull away. "Please. Let me explain."

She hesitated, her heart and brain battling between holding on and finally letting go. "Xavi... I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being the girl who waits for you to realize what you have when it’s already too late."

He pulled her closer, his hands trembling slightly as they cupped her face. "No. No, it’s not too late. I just-I’m an idiot. I thought that... I don’t know what I thought. But you’ve always been there, and I took that for granted. I took you for granted. I thought that as long as you were by my side, nothing else mattered. But I didn’t see what I was doing to you."

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and Xavi wiped them away with his thumbs, his forehead resting against hers gently. "I’m sorry," he whispered. "I’m sorry for making you feel like you’re not important. You’re everything to me, and I’ve been too blind to see it."

She didn’t want to believe him, but the raw sincerity in his voice made her resolve crumble. She stayed quiet, unsure of how to respond.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger there. "Let me prove it to you. I swear I’ll do better. Just... don’t give up on me yet."

She pulled back slightly, searching his face for any sign of dishonesty. But all she saw was regret and desperation. Finally, she nodded slowly, allowing herself to lean into his touch, hoping that this time it wouldn’t just be another cycle.

He smiled softly, brushing his lips against hers in a hesitant, tender kiss that tasted of promises and second chances.

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[satosuguwifee]

Between Claws and Caresses — Ryomen Sukuna x F!reader

Synopsis: When your boyfriend comes to pick you up for a walk, a certain feline attracts the pink-haired man's attention.

Contents: fluff.

Friday, the holy day on which Y/n can finally have some free time. She hums the song Single Ladies while applying mascara to her eyelashes, then admiring the result in the mirror.

Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell made the girl jump in fright before sighing in recognition of who might be there, waiting for her. She left the room with the towel covering her freshly wet body and walked to the entrance of her house, unlocking the door and smiling as she recognized the familiar pink head of hair in front of her.

—Good afternoon Sukuboo, are you so eager for our outing that you came early?

— Tsk, you sound like a brat. You're always late, you idiot.

— You really love me, huh?

The girl says ironically and makes room for her friend/enemy to enter. How did these two, who are like water and oil, end up becoming a duo? Not even the most divine being could answer this riddle.

They both went up to her room and soon Sukuna was sitting wide-eyed on the bed, fiddling with his cell phone without paying any attention to the girl in front of him.

— Try to hurry before I change my mind and dump you here. — he says as he continues to type, his red eyes focused on the screen.

— Why, you wouldn't— Y/n fell silent when the man raised that intimidating eyebrow in her direction, as if to say "Are you sure?". — Yes, you definitely would!

The pink-haired man just rolled his eyes and went back to looking at his cell phone, mumbling a single phrase: "5 minutes". The girl immediately ran into the bathroom, picking up the look she had sorted in advance before locking herself in and starting to get ready.

Sukuna, on the other hand, remained seated and watched something he loves when he has free time: laughing at the countless videos of children getting into mischief that exist on the internet.

Suddenly, the sound of the door creaking open fills the relatively quiet bedroom, and Sukuna's attention immediately turns in the direction of the sound, coming across a small, furry being next to his feet, staring at him with curious eyes.

— What are you looking at? — Sukuna says as he grimaces while looking at the feline, making it obvious that he dislikes it.

He then nudges the cat with the tip of his foot to push it away, knowing that if he pulled out any of its fur, Y/n would surely turn into the demon itself.

Not that he feared that angry brat...

...Of course not...

While Sukuna was distracted, he was a little startled when the cat, instead of doing what he wanted, just jumped into his lap.

"Meow!"

— Urgh... Insolent creature. — The pink-haired man grabs the cat by the scruff of the neck and throws it on the floor, not even caring if he's hurt it or not. Then he simply lies down on the bed and goes back to watching the videos from before.

However, to his second surprise of the day, the cat jumped on the bed and once again climbed up and lay on Sukuna's chest, staring at him again.

"Meow."

Sukuna just continued to stare at the inferior being with a certain disgust and, oddly enough, a little interest. Because he naturally had a more frightening and intimidating aura, no human being or even animal avoided him. But, like the cat's owner, the feline seemed just as stubborn as she was in wanting contact with him.

So, by this comparison, Sukuna put the tip of her index finger against the top of the cat's head, scratching it lightly with her fingernail, and that was enough for a noise to start coming out of the kitten: its famous purr.

Sukuna's fingers moved through the soft fur, and the little creature's purr even seemed to soften the man's heart (if only a little). A discreet, unconscious smile appeared on his face, while his bloodshot eyes still gazed at how the creature seemed so cozy inside him.

— All right, sorry it took to long— Y/N soon comes out of the bathroom completely tidy, and as soon as she's faced with the sight of the cute moment between her cat and her ice-hearted friend, she melts. — Kunaaa, do you have a thing for cats?

— Tsk, of course not. — he replies and once again picks up the cat by the scruff of its neck and throws it on the floor, then wipes the hair off with the back of his hand. — Shit, now I'm full of hair.

— Hey, who do you think you are to throw Luke Skywalker around like that? — The girl stomps out of the bathroom and stops right in front of her friend, glaring at him. — That's how you're going to get in danger with me, my dear.

— I laugh in the face of danger, brat.

Sukuna says as he gives her a debauched smile and then punches her hard in the forehead, burying his hands in his pants pockets.

— Urgh! Just let's go, asshole!

Y/n left the room again with those hard steps, eliciting a low laugh from the rosy-cheeked man who was delighted to see her get angry.

As soon as he took a few steps towards the door, he stopped and turned his face away to find Luke sitting at the desk by the door. Then, taking advantage of the fact that no one was there, he put his hand on the top of the feline's head, earning a meow in return.

— Hunf...

Sukuna smiled a little at the sound and then rolled his eyes when he heard the girl's annoying voice calling him, and then closed the door behind him, walking over to his friend and preparing to stay with the idiot he felt obliged to live with.

[popculturebuffet]

Transformers More than Meets The Eye Retrospective: Issues 31-33: The Road Not Taken (Patreon Review for Brotoman.EXE)

Hello all you happy autobots and welcome back aboard the lost light as we venture deeper into space and into the awkardness of having a captain who defintely murdered at least one person you know. Megatron: The Blood Soaked Kevin Bacon of Cybertron.

Anyways last time we had a time skip that Rodimus spent moping in his quarters as Megatron was named co captain because Optimus really dosen't have boundries, Prowl continued to see civil rights as a suggestion and is thankfully gone for the foreseable future, Nautica arrived and was the best, Megatron got some much needed therapy, Chromedome did not and saw his dead husband, and the ship done disappeared. Now your all caught up, let's see what those wacky robots are up to now in the second half of this story.

And this second half.. is the better half by a mile. It's why it feels like two diffrent, if consecutive story arcs: While the first part sets up the mystery and the new status quo, it also feels dour and bitter: no one is happy Megatron is there, everything's about that, and thus the cast is all bitter and angry. While there is some great material here: Megatron in therapy, his fight with Whirl, Nautica and Brainstorm being best friends, FINGER TO THE HEAD and Rodimus unhinged behavior and clear sexual tension with megatron when he finally rejoins the story, it's more.. bitter than usual, not helped by the long trial segments and Rodimus being largely abesent. Even in the darkest moments ther'es usually a sense of hope and camraderiy that's largely absent.

We get that sense back as while the first issue is full of tension, i'ts more intresting given the setup and the series goes back to it's strengths: it's strong characters, dialouge and high concepts. The result is one of my faviorite bits of storytelling that I was happy went down just as well this go round. So let's get on board the rodpod under the cut as we have a mystery to solve

We open with the secret origin of the lost light... it was the day before the big announcment and Rodimus, being rodimus, didn't even have a ship yet and sent someone else to take care of it, in this case Drift. Riptide is here too. Commuincating with some Nails via paddycake, Drift easily secures them the ship. All that's left is a name and while Pipes, whose also there, suggests a contest. Sure they could do that...

We're back in the present and Megatron is being grumpy about storytime. Turns out Riptide wasn't saying it for nothing though: Nautica asked, as the Lost Light is far from a normal ship.

As it turns out the Engines are far more advanced, even past Perciptor and Brainstorm levels. I also find it very cute that she calls Perciptor brainstorm levels of brilliant. It's about time someone put respect on the name. He may be a weirdo, but who on this ship isn't a bit weird or has deep baggage to deal with? It's what makes this book great.

Anyways she points out something that the audience and the crew weren't aware of: Quantum Engines shouldn't be able to have made the jump these did... with her help of course. And after some nervous Nautica noises as she's not used to people actually respecting her, complimenting her or attention in general.

So with everyone intrested, Nautica decides to give a brief lecture. Best I can break it down as even in a one panel lecture it's.. a lot, the engines are powered by the pull between what's possible and what's impossible, the reality of the ingines weighed against the heft of the IDEA they can go faster than light. It's a bizzare yet neat idea. Nautica theorizes the reality part one and the Lost Light poofed itself out of existance.

Megatron.. still grumbles: they know a POSSIBLE why, but not what to do now with a small scattered fleet of ships and him stuck in the worst one. I find his disdain of the rod pod both unsuprising and a nice character bit to tuck away for later. I told you the rod pod would be important and while this isn't why, it does play off that intrestingly.

Blaster, whose one of the bots aboard, gets a commuincation from Rodimus> There's a planet they can rodevue on, Ofsted. Ofsted was a lectureworld, a world that taught knowledge. This one focused on Ethics and was presumibly taught by emma frost. Naturally being deeply corrupt the Galactic Council took it over, changed the cirriculum and instituted fees. Cyclonus finds this objectinable as does his new pal Crosscut. Crosscut... I guess has always been here, but hasn't been relevant yet. The Lost Light has a LOT of extras aboard.

Crosscut is one of 20 autobots aboard: Along with him and Cyclonus we have: Megatron,Crosscut, Skids, Gears, Blaster, Getaway, Nautica, Ammo, Huffer ,Chromedome, Swerve, Hoist, NIghtbeat, Riptide, Tailgate, Dipstick, Hound, Ratchet and Highbrow.

I highlighted the main characters... Riptide counts at least for this arc.

And then.. Crosscut disappears and the concept begins. People are gonna start vanishing and our heroes are gonna try and beat the clock. A cool thing the comic does is use a page of everyone on board to keep track of who goes missing.

Bot Count: 19/20

It's then things go sideways as everyone panics a little.. but Tailgate decides to pull a gun on megatron

It does not, though to his credit Megatron doesn't pull a gun back and is more.. amused than anything. Things break down the second Megatron pulls his gun though, not wanting to be locked up for something he did not do.. or period which given his horrifying pass being tortured in prison.. is reasonable. Sadly the autobots aren't and all pull guns.. while they were on his side, Riptide ven admits as much, this is a step too far and it's not long before Cyclonus, being the adult in the room, trying to deescalate things leads to calls to throw them in the brig.. then tailgate. Then uh... (checks chart) Hound pulls a gun on Nautica whose understandably freaked the fuck out. Only it's not her he's aiming at it's RAVAGE!

Bot Count: 20/21

Yup the cat is here. And having always loved Soundwave's casettes, I just love the concept, this cassette beast joining the cast was welcome. Megatron has no idea WHY his old friend is here, and knows damn well no one buys that but it's the truth, advising the cat to play dead for his own sake via sign language. Good for Megatron for being talented in more than just murder, literature and being a grumpus. While he trains a cat, another talent in itself, Cyclonus is pissed Tailgate did a stupid.. while Getaway compliments him for being brave.

While all this was going on though.. .a BUNCH more people disappeared Megatron, Skids, Getaway, Nautica, Swerve, Hoist, NIghtbeat, Riptide, Tailgate Dipstick, Cyclonus, Ratchet and Ravage

12/21

With the party dwinlding Nightbeat tries to solve the mystery and Megatron rather than grousing about things.. actually helps. He points out the power outages before each dissapearnce aren't a concidence but a symptom: whateve'rs going on with the ship, the lights, the rumbhles.. it's connected.

So Nightbeat tries to find a common denominator and asks who was forged and who was constructed cold? While this concept was introduced in Remain in Light, here it gets fleshed out more as we find out there's two generations: first were the ones back on cybertron that lead to all the debate and what not, and the second were MTO's, models forged not for work or what have you but for war, not even having a birth city: just whatever conflict they were made for. It's a truly bleak concept but one I love: that part of the reason so many cybertronians are having trouble moving on.. is they were BUILT in war. They were built for this. It also leads to another intresting train of thought, one we won't fully get into this time, but will be the backbone of our next arc

It's an engaging double edged sword: Megatron's reign of terror murdered billions.. but it also created billions. Removing him could save lives.. but it'd also cause undo genocide by well.. undoing a genocide. Are the lives that would exist worth the ones that would be lost?

Megatron dodges the question, and this will naturally be important later as "This will be important later' could be the series catchphrase, but Ratchet knows whose who.. and construction isn't a related factor.

As Nightbeat bangs his head against the table in frustration the rest give us some more worldbuiding: originally MTO's were given a through course, ten steps from frozen to gun in your hand. They eventually wittled them down as High Command assumed learning about the world wasn't important as "can you shoot people y/n?" We also find out religion is more common in MTO's and that info creep may be the cause..that what could've just been a flash of light becomes conversatoin with the primes over time. Nautica then breaks down, wishing Windblade and Chromia were here as she feels their better than her, and wondering if she'll never see them again. It's a sobering reminder that some of the lost lighters DO have friends outside this ship and how close they are to death. Quite a few bots didn't make it out of season 1 alive and without giving away who, several will not make it out of this one in one piece.

One blip later and we're down to the main cast... and down one of the main cast.

Megatron, Skids, Getaway, Nautica, Swerve, NIghtbeat, Riptide, Tailgate, Ratchet and Ravage

10/21

So things are only getting worse: Magnus arrives in his holomatter avatar.. but has nothing. Their having the same problem and he too is soon gone.

Nightbeat grasps for straws trying to find ANYTHING that matches.. but no go and with that we're down to our final roster for the arc

Megatron, Skids, Getaway, Nautica, NIghtbeat, Riptide, and Ravage

7/21

Nightbeat finally gets his break though as Riptide mentions all the crazy stuff "they" got up to... and is thrown off. Wasn't riptide in the origin story? He was, and fully intended to go aboard, but when investigating the guys they got the ship from found they were shady and got beaten into a coma. As a nice bit of tying up loose ends their also WHY the sparkeater was on board as they were transporting it and left it to be the next owners problem.

So with that , if you hadn't figured it out, we have the common deniomnator: everyone left came onto the lost light AFTER it first took off. Skids was picked up in issue 2, Getaway joined in the season finale, Nightbeat during the crossover, and Megatron, Riptide, Chromia and Ravage all joined when the ship left cybertron the second time.

Megatron gets one final moment of being a dick about things telilng Nightbeat he failed because he failed to figure it out BEFORE everyone was gone... Nightbeat admits the how has to count right... and spoilers it totally does. And the evidence of it is right in front of them as our maginficent seven find.. the lost light... looking beat to shit and surrounded by weird red bands

We begin the next issue with some context for what the heck the creepy red stuff is: it's quantum foam, which sounds nice and sciency but like many a thing with a nice sciency name will kill you if you so much as look at it wrong so our team does their best to manuver inside.

The atmosphere is eerie: the lost light is trashed and while they arrive at swerves.. it dosen't look like a bar, more like a theater. The kinda Nautica would've gone to on caminus had her anxiety not noped her out of there anytime she got within ten feet of the place. Or whatever the transformer equilvent is.

Everyone thinks this is the future.. and i'll just let "thinks" do the heavy lifting for now as Megatron has arrived with Ravage to no one's pleasure, with Megatron pointing out that he can pay for trying to attack them later, right now they need his sniffer. So the team splits up gang... not the wisest move in any derlict spaceship surrounded by space-time blood slowly leaking out of the engines, but Chromia explains they dont' have long before said space-time blood explodes, so they need to find any possible survivors. Chromia's alt mode can go short distances in space so she has night beat get inside her

While the rest find Magnus corpse. There is some dithering for a second as despite Ravage identifying him by smell, Minimus has been dragged out of the armor. Thankfully drift knows about all that and confirms the corpse.. and that it was killed by fusion canon. While Megs protests his innosense, he had that thing smelted, this time.. he actually agrees to be locked up in a show of character. He realizes he really CAN'T prove it's not him and geninely dosen't want to hurt anyone. This is entirely for his own good too: the only two around him are Riptide, whose a dick and Skids, and he has Ravage as backup. No one would know until everyone came back, if they came back.. but he does the right thing anyway because he just dosen't WANT to kill people. He will but for all Megatron's faults, his ego, his coarsness, his lack of empathy... he genuinely WANTS to be better on some level.

So while Megatron gets locked up, Natucia and Nightbeat bond, with Nightbeat filling her in on rewind and his ghost earlier, and just flat out asking if she's single. I mean I would and yes i'm aware she dwarfs me in size, that's part of it. Same goes for Rodimus though just for one night... the dude is even messier than I am. I can't see that ending well.

Chromia admits that no, same with Night beat and the two find something intresting to distract from dwelling on both being single: brainstorm's briefcase.

Back with Megatron, he's busy talking to his cat who quickly scratches him in what has to be the most violent garfield comic ever made using space robots.

Ravage is PISSED though as Megatron abandoned the cause.. and while Megatron points out the decipticon cause isn't him, Ravage disagrees, revealing Galvatron is leading them now and saying outright that if Megatron said the word he'd gut their new glorious leader himself.

Unsuprisingly Ravage was sent by Soundwave, who is also spinning out over this and wanted to make sure this was REALLY megatron and if so have Ravage take him out back and claw him a bit so to speak. Ravage is also the reason those decipticons attacked the trial a test for megatron he failed. What follows.. is the second best scene of the arc and one of my faviorites series wide

It's a great callback to Chaos Theory and the main reason WHY I covered it: it covers the gap between the over the top evil of megatron in the previous runs and the tired layred old man in this one. He was once a better man.. but that quote up top says it all. I also love Ravage's face... his sheer worry as he realizes the man he knew isn't the same... that part of why this all weighs on him now.. is time. There isn't much left, Megatron is aware of this: even if the quest goes on for years, he dosen't HAVE years left. And he's aware of it. He's too tired to be a monster, to keep doing horrible shit and justifying it... he doesn't want to be that person anymore and took a quick cheap route to get there. But as Ravage puts it when megatron answers who he was was dead "dead... or just sleeping?". It's the core of Megatron's character arc: can you really atone or is your worst self always there, watching you?

For now there is no answer, just corpses... but there is at least an id on who the murder victim is as he finds... a brain cog. The others also find corpses thoguh before that Gateway talks with Riptitde, who feels guilty.. as Gateway puts it "the bigger the tragedy the harder it is to process". It's hard to put what Megatron did into sheere scale so it's easy to forget just HOW much harm he's done.

At any rate the corpses not only include Overlord, who should be gone.. but spell out WHO did this and why they need to run the fuck away: the DJD. After the omnious set up of them last time they've crashed into the main plot in a bloody rampage.

Nightbeat is starting to figure it out though: they found a beheaded overlord... who shoudln't BE here to get beheaded as he supposidly died when Rewind sacrified himself. Still the ship's collapsing so they should get going... but Ravage finds one survivor and well.. i'ts worth showing twice

It's a fantastic panel not only showing that Megatron has indeed changed, happy SOMEONE surivived.. but also leaving the reader in shock. Rewind LIVES... and we'll find out why.. right now.

So everyone attends to Rewind whose understandably in shock.. not just due to what he's been through but finding out Skids is alive, Nightbeat is alive (Both were assumed dead), Megatron is an autobot and there are female cybertronians. He isn't a dick about the last part mind, wish I didn't have to clairfy that but .. the times we live in. He just..d idn't know it was a thing and is fine with it. He gives Nightbeat a data slug.

Meanwhile Chromia while talking with Riptide finally figures it out and we get the big twist this has all been leading to: the lost light didn't disappear... it split in half back when the launch happened. See quantum engines work by getting someone from point a to point b using quantum stuff. The point a is always fixed.. but B could be billions.. and the explosion threw it off, so instead of narrowing it down to ONE option.. it became two. Thus two lost lights were born and two perfect copies.

As Nightbeat and Skids found from the data slug, the Alternate Lost Light went through a diffrent set of circumstances: Rung died in the crash and was replaced as bait and Rodimus timing in throwing the spark eater into the engines was off so part of his head got clipped, hence his corpse.

In the aftermath Drift came clean about overlord... and that's what caused the massacre. Someone on board learned about him.. and leaked it to the DJD who came for Overlord.. and then kept going with everyone else. They learned the traitor thing as Tarn's a sadistic bastard , of course he's going to tell them about the betryal before he tortures everyone.

Rewind.. was forced to film the massacre to save Chromedome's life, and it's just.. an awful thing ot think about: recording everyone you care about dying... only for them to make the condition of your partner living that he erases his memory of you.. and jamming his needles into his head when he refuses. We'd seen from their intro how bad the DJD were... but this arc really hammers it in: their monsters, sadists who use their loyalty to megatron as a thin excuse to kill people and satisfy their addictions. Rewind barely survivied falling into the magnus armor and they mercifully left.

He dosen't have time to process this, nor does anyone as the foam's getting tighter.. and what's worse.. it's going to envelop the planet bellow. Priority shifts from "save ourselves" to "save the world" as tends to be for the autobots.... with Megatron holding out. If their not cybertronian why does it matter. Skids counters perfectly: If wearing the badge dosen't alter his behavior.. waht the fuck has any of Megatron's time as an autobot meant. If he can't see all sentient beings as valid... why be here.

So he relents. The Foam is tight but rewind offers to squeeze through as he's tiny. Chromia appricates it, but points out they need tow people to deactivate the quantum drums simeltaniously: if done it should erase the other lost light and thus the paradox. As for why it's only happening now it's simple: the two lost lights got close enough for the universe to stop ignoring the paradox.

Getaway makes a quip about "unless someone can pull a minimus ambus".. and Skids gets an idea; Search Brainstorm's lab as he used a shrink ray that one time. While searching it we iron out how all this works in way si've already descirbed, and our heroes find Brainstorm's corpse... who has a face. I geninely forgot about that.. and the reveal attached

Brainstorm was the traitor, something poor Nautica dosen't take well. They don't have time to process this reveal, and the fact if they restore him THEIR brainstorm is a traitor too. It also begs a question I forgot the answer too: if brainstorm learned about overlord, why didn't he tell the DJD on everyone even if he'd just blown up real good? Or report into the other decipticons present when the crossover happened? Why'd he stay undercover?

The next arc will answer these questions for now we find out that Brainstorm never made the mass displacement gun in this timeline... but Megatron pipes up: he could once transform into a smaller carryable gun and once your spark is primed for mass displacement, it's always primed. He just didn't stand up because as he puts it "when people are lining up for heroic sarcifices, stand at the back of the queue". And while pragmatic ... I get it. If they could get EVERYONE to do it with the gun, then they all could go through the foam. More numbers. There was no sense playing his hand until he had to.

SO Rewind and MEgatron bond with some sycnronized dodging the death goo and Megatron tiptoes around his horrible death. The two make it to the drums.. and Rewind is hit with a relization... if the lost light is restored and the duplicate goes away... won't he go away too? Nautica is horrified to realize this while Megatron asks if he wants to go back. It's a human moment from a very stoic asshole: that if they have to find another way out they will, he won't force someone to make a sacrifce they didn't sign up for.

But rewind.... is fine with it

So it's hours later. The lost light has remateralized, and everyone is slowly coming back. Chromedome arrives and skids has a suprise for him outside.. and we get one of the best sequences in the entire comic. Two entirely silent pages as Chromedome... finds exactly who you hoped out there and the two work thorugh their emotoins... before the ineveitble happens

I wish I could show you the whole thing. It's so damn beautiful. Just two people who thought they'd lost each other finding one another, thorugh time, through space and through pure fate. There will be more to sort out later, to the series credit it dosen't sidestep over the complications here, but for now it just lets us have the catharsis.

So how do I feel about Rewind's return? I'm okay with it. It dosen't dilute the impact of his death as that Rewind.. is gone. He blew up. He truly is dead and the pain Chromedome felt was still very real. And as I hinted at, the series does tackle the fact these aren't the exact versions of Chromedome and Rewind they fell in love with. It could do more with it, but they dont' completely just fall into "this is the same rewind." he went through diffrent stuff and the true horror he went through sets up the DJD as the big bad of this season very well: We saw them plow through some unamed decipticons and the scavengers barely escape.. but now we see they could easily kill everyone we care about with zero effort. They commited a gruseom slaughter that was easy to shake off the first time I read this: it wasn't OUR lost light... but on this run.. I got that these guys easily could've BEEN the crew we know. They aren't that diffrent. The few additions they gathered, first aid, skids, aren't enough to flip the tide. They have more NOW as seen with this issue, but it simply may not be enough. And Megatron himself thinks at first thier coming FOR HIM... and with Brainstorm seemingly a traitor, it's only a matter of time till word gets to them. The clock is ticking and our heroes may not be ready when it runs out.

Speaking of Brainstorm Megatron needs to tell Rodimus there's a decipticon on board.. and offers his decipticon on board a spot, pointing out that Ravage has now seen the worst extreme of the Decepticon cause... does he still want that?

Before our cliffhanger, Nautica has no idea how Rewind survivied. My honest guest is since there was no rewind on the lost light to replace, Rewind 2 stayed. But it dosen't explain another anamoly.. the other briefcase. And after being a mystery all series we finally find out what's inside.. kinda. Brainstorm realizing he's made opens it in Swerves and....

Yup. So that's where we're leaving for a few months. A bunch of the cast may be dead and Brainstorm is free to do whatever the hell he wants while also being a traitor maybe

For now we end this arc.. whic his good as I remembered it: it's an atmospheric tale on a derlict spaceship, perfect for this series with a heartwarming ending.. and a chilling vision of things to come.

Next Time: We travel in time to get answers as to what Brainstorm's endgame is. It isn't pretty. But that's a few months for now, we go back to the power rangers who aren't fairing much better.

[saiintvalentiine]

HTFF Chapter 1.5

hi. this is like..... a missing scene from how to featherfall. before it became just Wifies POV, I was going to rotate through different POVs but I found it really difficult and unsatisfying to write so I scraped the other POVs.

however! I have what constitutes as most of a chapter from Parrot's POV set immediately after the end of chapter 1. in chapter 3 he mentions that Wifies popped a few totems, and this chapter would have shown the first one :)

Important notes:

This goes without saying, but this won't make sense if you haven't read at least chapter 1 of how to featherfall.

There is a section that's just missing and filled instead with my A/N where I'm screaming. that's part of the experience. it's also unedited. that's also part of the experience.

I really am not that satisfied with the writing in this. Zam and Wemmbu are here and honestly I completely botched them. sorry in advance.

Warnings for gore! It's sprinkled throughout so unlike chapter 2 where you can skip it, here it's unavoidable.

There's a sub-200 word Ken POV set right after this that I just won't post because it's so pathetically short but it exists, so if it feels like this trails off strangely at the end, that's why

anyway, I think that's it. enjoy this little. . . chapter 1.5? divider

Wordcount: 1,712

Wifies has never made a noise like that. Never, ever, ever, not once, not in the hundreds of times he's been stabbed or trapped, the dozens of totems he's popped from shots through the head or axes through his limbs— never. He's so quiet in his pain that Parrot worries sometimes that Wifies will just slip away from him, unheard, and Parrot won't know until it's too late. Now he knows that Wifies slipping away is a horrifying sound. It's like listening to an animal’s death rattle. It's like he's been split open. Like he's been pulled apart.

Wemmbu’s expression cracks, blatant fear and concern breaking through their usual charade. When Parrot leaves him to find Wifies, he’s greeted with Zam's limp arms and blank stare. Whatever just happened, Parrot knows Zam didn't mean it. Zam likes their games just as much as Wifies usually does, just differently, the subterfuge and arguments and drama fueling him. But he likes Wifies— they all like Wifies and his dry humor and his level headed persuasion and his stilted, earnest affections.

Wifies is hanging from a tree, left wing pierced through by three different tree branches. He’s stopped screaming, instead shaking and trying to pry himself off of the branches before going terrifyingly limp just as Parrot reaches him. Zam wordlessly pulls out an axe from his inventory as Parrot wraps his arms around Wifies’s middle and lifts him up to ease the pressure off his back. Zam starts to chop off the branches, and all Parrot can think of is how he's going to get this armor off of Wifies.

Wemmbu appears with a totem in hand, hesitating for a moment before taking one of Wifies's hands and wrapping his fingers around it, tucking the tight cuff of Wifies's sweater on the lower bit so it won't fall out.

“Just in case,” he murmurs to no one.

Parrot appreciates it. Zam cuts through the final branch and all of Wifies's weight lands on Parrot. Zam is holding the very top of Wifies's wing, trying to ease it closer without irritating it.

“We need to cut through this chest plate,” Parrot says. “There's no way we can move his wing to take it off normally.”

Zam offers his axe, and Wemmbu takes it, struggling to find a notch on the metal that'll let him cut through the netherite. Once he does manage to slice away enough to pull the back of it out, though, his face pales.

“That's a whole metal bar,” Wemmbu says in a choked voice. “That's— what the fuck is this?”

This is about an inch of a thick, red iron bar pulled straight out of Wifies's back, the base of his left wing attached to it through what looks like screws and layers of silvery scar tissue. The wing-holes of his sweater let them see that it’s been ripped right out of Wifies’s back, a gaping wound that's pouring out more blood than Parrot can comprehend. 

Parrot holds Wifies closer with his left arm, touching the exposed metal with a shaking finger. It's slick with blood and still warm.

The totem in Wifies's hand pops. They all startle at the noise of it, and Parrot can't stop looking at how the broken skin and muscle starts to pull together, metal shuddering violently as it's pushed and pulled too and fro, like it can't decide if the metal is invasive or belongs. It reseals around the exposed metal, leaving the wing at an awkward angle.

“Nooo,” Wifies moans weakly into Parrot’s ear. “No, no, no. . .”

Zam pulls out a totem from his inventory and hands it over to Wemmbu. Wemmbu shakily repeats the process of getting Wifies to hold onto it, though this time Wifies grips it with a faint sigh.

“Wifies,” Parrot whispers, at a loss for what to do. “What. . . ?”

“What happened?” Wifies slurs. He can't seem to move his weight off of Parrot, though his twitching legs are clearly trying.

“There's metal,” Parrot says dumbly.

Wifies tenses, right wing ruffling and left just jittering inertly.

“No,” he says again and again. “No, no, no, no, no, it's out, it's out isn't it?”

“It’s— there's like, like an inch of metal sticking out of the left side of your back,” Parrot says, stained hand still hovering over it.

“That's too much to put back,” Wifies says. “Gotta, gotta rip it out for the next trial—”

His fever. Wifies still has a fever. Parrot scrambles to pull Wifies’s helmet off and toss it away, pressing his cheek to Wifies's forehead. He's burning, twice as hot as this morning, and his eyes are glassy and unfocused.

“Rip it out?” Zam says faintly. He looks like he's going to be sick.

“Rip it out,” Wifies replies. “Rip it out, means the scapula is too damaged, ‘s no good anymore, trial failed.”

“What is he talking about Parrot,” Wemmbu says. He also looks like he's going to be sick.

“I don't know.”

Wemmbu and Zam are looking to him to salvage this situation, but Parrot feels nauseous and lost. He thought Wifies’s wings were organic, that maybe he couldn't fly because of some kind of muscle issue or psychosomatic symptoms. Not— whatever the fuck is happening now.

“Parrot,” Wifies says, voice slurring. “I have no idea what to do. I've never survived getting them out.”

What the fuck is Parrot supposed to do?

“Someone call Ken,” Parrot blurts out, and Wemmbu whips into action.

“Ken’s gonna kill meeeee,” Wifies mutters. “Told me to take care of it.”

He goes limp again, and Zam checks on the totem.

“Uh,” Ken’s voice is tinny over Wemmbu’s comm speaker. “Can I help you?”

“Wifies’s wing just, uh, exited his body,” Wemmbu says. “It’s— there's a lot of blood.”

Ken curses and something heavy sounding hits wood. There's scrambling, then catastrophic noise that feels appropriate to the inside of Parrot’s brain.

“Just— keep him alive, please,” Ken says, voice strained. “I'll— I can fix it, I think, just keep him alive til I get there.”

Ken hangs up, and then it's the four of them again in the morning light. Ken can fix it. Parrot has to believe in him.

“Let's lay him down inside, head in and get all the stuff off of the living room floor,” Parrot says.

With direction now, Zam speeds off with Wemmbu close behind. Parrot struggles for a minute, but manages to wrangle Wifies up further onto his shoulder without agitating his torn wing. He’s careful as he walks into their house, hand still warm with blood and viscera.

[AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA]

Ken arrives in a flurry of movement, fur and feathers standing on end. He’s already pale, but looking at Wifies turns him sheet white.

“Fuck,” he says, then turns to Wemmbu and Zam and says, “You two need to leave. Sorry. Get out.”

“What?” Wemmbu says.

“Get out, get out, last thing we need is two more cooks in the kitchen,” and Ken flinches at his own words, waving his hand as if to wipe them out of the air. “Listen, just— I need you to leave. Wifies might kill himself if I don't insist.”

“What the fuck,” Parrot mutters, watching as Ken pushes Zam and Wemmbu out of the house and locks the door behind them.

“Wifies trusts you, and I'm gonna have to trust you too,” Ken says as he slams obsidian in front of the door and pulls out a file folder from his inventory.

“Trust me with what?”

“His life.”

It’s such a dramatic thing for Ken to say, so over the top it’s almost comical, but then he’s pinning sheets of paper onto the dark wood of their walls and Parrot’s nausea doubles. It’s charts and diagrams and— fuck, sometimes pictures, surgical and bloodied, and Parrot doesn’t know where to look when everything is violation and gore. Ken collapses across from him on Wifies’s other side, and starts to tear through his sweater with shears.

“Ken, explain something,” Parrot chokes out. “Anything, please.”

“Wifies’s wings are installed, not grown. They're installed poorly. If one of them exits the body, the whole system has to go.”

Ken sounds so. . . unlike himself. The words sound foreign, practiced, like he's heard them somewhere else and is only repeating them.

“Wifies told you that,” Parrot realizes suddenly. “He knew the whole time they were dangerous didn't he?”

“He left me a kit,” Ken says stiffly. “Just in case something happened. Asked me if I would be okay with having to do something like this.”

The sweater and shirt disappear bit by bit, and Parrot sees the network of gnarled scar tissue on Wifies’s back for the first time. His broken (extracted? He isn't sure what to call it) wing is surrounded by puckered skin from the totem pop, but there's a— a track of scars. Two go from the top of his shoulders down to his mid back. Another two connect the ends of those scars. A single wide scar bisects at an equal distance between those. And then, from the top of his spine all the way down to his waist is a single, inelegant cut that looks large enough to pluck out his vertebrae. Three vertical, three horizonal, like some kind of fucked up version of the rule of thirds.

“God,” Parrot says, and then again, “God,” but he helps Ken toss away the scraps of fabric and looks at the wall of papers for guidance.

“I just need to get the wings out,” Ken mutters, clearly trying to convince himself that he can. “Everything else can stay. The wings, and the fastening mechanisms. That's it. Those are two things on each side, so it’s only four things.”

“We can do that,” Parrot says. “Just four things right? We can do that.”

“We can do that,” Ken repeats, and then the shears are swapped out with a thin, sharp scalpel. “We’ll have to do that.”

Parrot reaches over and holds Wifies's damaged wing away from Ken so he has more space to work with.

“We can do this,” Parrot says, putting every ounce of hope and confidence he can muster into his voice.

Ken’s hand flexes over the handle of the blade and he nods.

“We can do this.”

[utterlyrandomperson]

Weapon

Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives

Summary: Edwin walks in on Charles putting up with Niko and Crystal's antics. Niko and Crystal make a list to convince Edwin to join in on the fun.

Content warnings: swearing, tickling.

A/N: I read all the Dead Boy Detectives tickle content I could find about ten times, then I decided it was my time to contribute something. So here you go :)

"What on earth are you doing?"

For a second, Charles feels relief when Edwin wanders into the room and poses that question, mainly because it causes Crystal and Niko to pause. But then his brain catches on and he realises that Edwin has just wandered into the room and posed that question. A question that demands an answer.

"We're tickling Charles!", Niko, who is kneeling next to him on the floor, blurts out enthusiastically. Said dead boy detective flinches and shakes his head wildy.

"NO! Are you crazy?! You can't just hand Edwin a weapon like that!"

Crystal laughs. "Oh, so it's a weapon now? Is that seriously how bad it is? We must've only scratched the surface, then."

When she reaches for his sides, Charles winces and immediately bats away her hands. Before she can start another attempt, Edwin clears his throat and takes some more steps into the room.

"I'm sorry but... what is happening?", he asks, still looking bewildered.

"We were doing research for the case, and then we kind of found out that Charles is ticklish! And I mean like reeeeally ticklish", Niko says, her eyes wide with excitement. When Edwin doesn't give any reaction, Crystal continues: "And now we are tickling him. That's what's happening. You do know what tickling is, don't you, Edwin? That's not like a thing that didn't exist back in the 1910s, right?"

Edwin tilts his head. "Yes, in fact I do know what tickling is. But I don't think I quite understand your excitement about it."

Charles lets out a nervous chuckle and attempts to sit up. "Exactly, mate! It's absolutely nothing of interest. Now, we have more important stuff to talk abAAH- noho, piss ohoff!"

He collapses right back onto the floor when Crystal pinches his upper ribs and tries to shield himself by crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"You don't understand the excitement about it?" Crystal glances at Edwin with a mischievous smile before leveling her focus on Charles again.

"Alright, let me list some things for you. One: you can get him to admit stuff. For example that he is an annoying bastard who keeps distracting other people from doing their work. Right, Charles?"

The latter wheezes when she pokes his belly and arches away of the touch.

"Shut uhup!"

Crystal sighs. "Yeah, still working on that... but there's more on the list! Two: even if he doesn't want to admit he's an annoying bastard, you can still punish him for being one. I haven't really figured out his worst spots yet, but his waist seems to be pretty bad."

As soon as she's said that, Charles' eyes widen and he protectively wraps his arms around his abdomen. When her hands suddenly dart forwards, he lets out a noise that is most definitely not a shriek and instinctively curls up.

"Nonono, Crystal plehease."

This finally gets a reaction out of Edwin. He chuckles softly and takes a few more steps towards them. Niko takes that as her hint to add more to the list. "Three: you can make him laugh! I like it when Charles laughs. He sounds so joyful and carefree, don't you think?"

When she wriggles her fingers under Charles' arms, the latter cries out before bursting into loud laughter. He tries to grab her wrists and drag her hands away, but Crystal uses the opening and tickles his sides with so much vigour that it immediately forces him to bring his arms down again. He writhes until he manages to turn onto his side and curl up, but Niko simply draws her hands back before reaching out again to claw at the back of his ribs and gently trace her fingernails over his nape. Charles' laugh goes up in pitch and volume and he frantically shakes his head.

"Oh my Gohod, Niko please don't do thahat!"

"But it's so much fun!", Niko exclaims and tickles a spot below his ear that makes him bubble over with giggles.

"Aww, Charles! I didn't know you could produce such adorable noises", Crystal teases with a playful smirk. Charles gasps for air and curls up even more, desperately trying to prevent Crystal's hands from reaching his stomach and waist.

"I do nohot! I- no, wahait! Dohon't, Crystal let go!"

The latter has a firm grip on both of Charles' wrists, which she has pinned down to the left and right of his body. Where she has got the strength to do that from, Charles has no idea. Or maybe he has simply become very weak due to all the squirming and laughing. Niko is still scribbling over his neck and placing some pokes arcoss his chest and ribcage, but it's not enough to have him laughing full-on. Which means he has nothing to distract him from the words that leave Crystal's mouth a second later.

"Would you like to give me a hand here, Edwin?"

Charles chokes on his spit and has to cough a few time before he manages to protest.

"WHAT?! No, nononono, don't even think about it! Edwin. Mate, come on, you can't do this to me!"

The last part of the sentence comes out as a giggly plea because while he's been talking, Edwin has approached them and is now kneeling on the floor next to Niko.

"Charles. Weren't you the one who said that I should consider Crystal's suggestions more often? Well, this is me considering her suggestion. You're welcome."

"Oh, you’re all just a bunch of dirty bastards!", Charles exclaims, but there is no real heat behind his words.

Crystal narrows her eyes. "Careful. In case you've forgotten, we literally have you pinned to the floor and you're about to get the life tickled out of you."

Totally against his will, his breath hitches and he feels goosebumps rise on his skin. Crystal smirks when she sees it. "Well, Edwin. Where do you want to start? I have a feeling that pretty much everywhere will be effective."

"Maybe you should try his knees!", Niko says full of eagerness.

Edwin raises an eyebrow. "His knees? Is it even possible for a person to be ticklish on their knees?"

"Well, only one way to find out", Crystal says with a crooked grin. She's pretty positive that this will get a good reaction because she felt how Charles tensed up the second Niko mentioned his knees.

Edwin tentatively reaches out and places his hand on one of Charles' knees. After a second of contemplation, he curls and un-curls his fingers, letting his nails gently graze against the fabric of the other's jeans. The reaction comes instantly. Charles throws his head back with a narrowly suppressed laugh as his entire leg jerks.

"Edwin, stop it! Mate come on, plehease."

An amazed smile spreads on Edwin's lips and he eyes Charles.

"Charles, you must be really ticklish if this is already affecting you so much."

He didn't say it in a teasing way but rather as an observational statement. It causes Charles to blush nevertheless. He quickly rolls his eyes and huffs to cover it up.

"Fine, I am! But that doesn't mean you-"

He cuts himself off with a muffled squeal and instinctively tries to grab Edwin's wrist, but Crystal still manages to keep him pinned (no, seriously, how the fuck does she manage that?). So he has no choice but to endure the slow but firm squeezes Edwin is giving to his knee and lower thigh. It doesn't get better when the other decides to let his hand wander upwards until it reaches his hip.

"You said this was a bad spot, right?", Edwin asks with a glance at Crystal. The latter smirks and nods.

"I will probably have a hard time holding him down. He was very adamant at stopping me when I tried to tickle him there."

"I will help you!", Niko suddenly chips in and grabs one of Charles' wrists with both of her hands, allowing Crystal to do the same with the other.

Charles slowly starts to panic. Crystal alone has managed to pin him down for quite a while - there is no way he stands a chance of freeing himself with two people holding him down. He fights to keep the anticipatory giggles at bay, but he is already fidgeting nervously and his breathing has accelerated.

"Oh come on, you can't be serious! Three against one is so unfair", he protests, his eyes darting from Niko to Crystal to Edwin. The latter tilts his head and grins mischievously.

"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad, can it?"

All of Charles' warning bells go off. Edwin is teasing him. And for some reason, he is so susceptible to it. Because for the second time that day, he feels his cheeks heating up. For a second, he finds himself at a loss for words. That is until Edwin decides to start pinching his hips, which drags him back to reality very quickly.

"Dohon't!"

It's all he manages to splutter before dissolving into a fit of gasps and giggles. He cries out when Edwin moves to his waist and starts drawing little patterns with his nails. The gentle touch is sending ticklish shocks through his body and he frantically tries to free his hands. His eyes are tightly shut and his body is shaking with laughter.

"No, please not there, please-"

Niko snickers.

"Oh, I think this really is a bad spot."

Edwin's eyes sparkle playfully as he watches the squirming boy beneath him.

"You know Crystal, I don't think he was exaggerating when he called this a weapon."

Charles makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a whine.

"Yehes, and you are killing me with it!"

"Well, then I guess it's fortunate that you are already dead", Edwin responds and tickles his belly with both hands.

"Go for his ribs. I want to see what happens", Crystal instructs with a grin.

Charles gasps for air and writhes.

"NO! For Fuck's sake, don't you dare- noho! Oh, I bloodly hahate you all!"

But the bubbly laughter that's bursting out of him makes that statement hard to believe. Edwin is carefully working his way up the other's ribcage, dragging his nails over every rib and wiggling his fingers into all the interspaces. By the time he reaches the upper part of his ribcage, Charles is a laughing mess. His chest is rising and falling with every gasp for breath and he feels tears sparkling in the corners of his eyes. He can't remember the last time he has laughed this hard, if ever.

Edwin reaches his uppermost ribs, right beneath the underarms, the spot where Niko was tickling him earlier. A few seconds of this is enough to break him. He arches his back, then tries to curl up as much as he can and weakly shakes his head.

"I cahan't! Edwin please, please stop tickling me, I cahan't take it anymore!"

Edwin laughs fondly and slows his hands.

"Alright, alright. Despite the fact that you are dead already, I'm not actually trying to kill you again."

He strokes the lengths of the other's sides with his palms a few times to help him calm down, then he pulls his hands back. Crystal and Niko also release their grips on Charles' wrists, allowing him to wrap his arms around his torso and curl up. He is breathing heavily and some residual giggles are still tumbling from his lips. Niko soothingly runs her hand over the back of his head.

"I hope we didn't go too far, Charles", she says after a while.

Charles groans and rolls onto his back, but still gives her the hint of a smile.

"It's fine, Niko. Edwin is right, after all. I'm already dead, so it's not like the lack of breath will have any consequences. But still, you three are absolutely ruthless. I won't be quick to froget about this."

Crystal laughs. "You definitely won't, but neither will we. Don't make the mistake of thinking that this was a one-time occurence. You're too much of a cocky bastard for that."

Charles raises his eyebrows at her.

"Don't you make the mistake of thinking I won't get you back for this."

"Ha! Hate to disappoint you Charles, but I'm not ticklish. You're free to give it a shot, but don't be surprised when it ends with you in the same position you've been in a minute ago."

Charles rolls his eyes and turns his head to look at Niko. "Fine. Then I will find myself an easier target. After all, it was you who started this whole mess in the first place."

A light blush spreads on Niko's cheeks, but she smiles nevertheless.

"Good luck with him, Niko. He can be quite persistent once he's got something into his head", Edwin says. Niko looks at him and tilts her head.

"What about you, Edwin? Are you ticklish as well?", she asks.

Edwin startles and his eyes widen.

"What? Me? Er, I..."

"Oooh!", Niko exclaims before he has a chance to say more.

Edwin scowls.

"Don't even think about it, Niko."

He turns his head when he hears the amazed chuckle and freezes when he sees the mischievous grin that is spreading on Charles' face.

"Oh my God. You are in such deep shit, Edwin. Because I will get you back for this. And I will most definitely tell you that 'it can't be that bad' while you are squirming beneath me and screaming with laughter."

Crystal cackles at the face Edwin makes.

"This is too good. I don't know what exactly we started here, Niko, but I feel like all hell will break loose. And I'm definitely here for it."

Masterpost

[themrswallace]

Self-closure scene: What never was

'DL is sitting on Gromit and Fluffles's bed as the Poodle goes about her routine fur-on-fur time with Baby Wallace (The puppy), recovering from her daily workout to strengthen torn abdominal muscles while maintaining close contact with her youngest child, eyes closed yet ears listening to her sister's plight' "It's utterly irrational, the subject is null and void, but...I just can't-" 'A comforting paw clasps the younger human's ringed fingers, holding firm to show solidarity and support' "This is my mother, entirely something she'd do, find fault with the theoretical or a past slight, if you can even call it one. S'not even sodding personal! My brain wants to make the situation feel that way, so I have a leg to stand on! I'm in-fucking-sane" 'The pedigree canine shifts her head to look at DL, shaking it to indicate their self-opinion is wrong and she doesn't agree' "You have to say that, we're family, you have to be biased, it's me" 'DL takes the paw and kisses it warmly, pressing the appendage to their cheek for support, feeling the pit within their stomach deepen' "This is self-sabotage, know it is. I'm trying to make a mountain out of a molehill to give a reason to explain away the negative emotion" 'Fluffles hums something unintelligible, yet DL understands' "Mean, the kid never happened! Mute point! They didn't get married, whether the thing existed or not! But my brain just wants to hold onto the prospect like life did go that route and punish me for enjoying things as they are now. Just an endless loop of being replaced, ignored, sent away, rejected, given this creature I'd never be capable of contending against because...It'd be Wallace's damn kid and much as I don't wanna admit, I'd love it just the same, because it'd be a piece of him, another version of him. I'd be stuck wondering what could've been, all the while baby-sitting, being the best Uncle I could be...between watching the idiot play Lord of the Manor, doting dad, follow Campanula cheese-puff-head Tottington around like a lost puppy, no offence, and being anybody but himself because of new responsibilities...And I'd wanna be angry and take it out on this little life ruiner, but how could I? My sister could've done the same thing with me, but she never did, loved me like her own while our parents bribed me with presents to keep my special-needs arse out the way, or in hers hair instead...Even my therapist couldn't understand it, but she had all the chances to be angry at me, like her. How could I blame another kid who didn't ask to be here for something they didn't do? Or do by just existing?" 'The Poodle opens her eyes, looking at the other with sympathy and motherly tenderness. Since becoming one, she's learnt to empathise with broken children, more so as this is her best friend. The snow white creature smiles gently, nodding along to their words before giving a small whine-like noise following a string of her own conversational replies. Fluffles herself has never experienced rivalry, at least of the sibling sort, even the idea of Piella truly settling down with a man once completing her baker's dozen and having a family never crossed her mind, if it had, she doubts she'd have been jealous, or hurt at the notion of seeing her abusive owner show another animal or human any kind of affection, but then Fluffles was brought up to be grateful for what she had, a roof over her head and food was more than enough, so the attention off of her to be a preforming canine would have been quite nice, and a change from the previous events of waking up to be shouted at, degraded or forced to compare herself to other, more successful poodles. At the same time, Fluffles spent not knowing the life of a familial kind, it was only around Wallace and Gromit she learnt what it was like to have one, and when DL came along, she finally felt at home, somewhere to be safe, loved, wanted, by losing Piella, she gained a life to enjoy, to lead, to want to be a part of. By losing her so-called 'Mother', Fluffles found her real family' (Part 2 coming)

[echo-rambles]

you got me feeling butterflies

words: 770 tags: fluff, suggestive content, pet-names (baby/puppy), light sub!chan, praise kink notes: I don't really have an excuse or explanation. this is probably the closest to smut I'll ever actually get. if I missed any warnings/tags, please let me know?

-o0o-

being with chan is a lesson in patience. not because he's a difficult man, but because he's a busy one. he's constantly doing something, whether it's packing his schedules as full as he legally can, or using his 'free time' to get more work done. you've learned that some days he needs a reminder to just breathe. to exist without worrying about the next project.

today is one of those days, as you gently tug his chair away from his desk, and he protests for a minute. his hands are still glued to his keyboard and his arms outstretched, but then you sigh. "chris." your tone leaving no room for argument so he knows you're being serious.

"it must be important if you government named me." chan jokes, finally letting you spin him around.

"you know I love your- frankly frightening, work ethic. but I think it's time you took a break." you tell him softly, as you cup his cheeks in your hands.

"I'm almost done."

"baby, you were almost done two hours ago. at this rate you'll be stuck in a constant limbo of almost but not quite."

the huffy little pout he gives you is actually kind of adorable. "five more minutes?"

you make a show of thinking about it, giving his cheeks a squeeze as you do, before finally leaning down to kiss him. "I'll give you long enough to save your work and shut the whole thing down, but no longer than that. understand?"

chan presses his hands to your hips, even as he begins to scoot his chair back towards his desk. "on it, boss."

"that's what I like to hear." you let him pull you along, watching with a keen eye as he goes through the process of saving all of his work properly and turning off his computer. mostly one handed because he struggles with letting you go for long. "see, was that so hard?"

"absolutely." there's a bit of reluctance in his eyes, as he glances at his computer, but just as quickly he's completely turning to face you, giving you his attention. looking up at you with those big brown eyes. you have to stay strong, soldier.

humming, you lean down again, planting one of your knees on the chair between his legs to stabilize yourself as you give him a much deeper kiss than before. "you'll get over it."

it's an affirmation as much as it is an order. chan mumbles something like fucking hell, and then he's nodding. eager and wide eyed. your thumb swipes along the edge of his jaw, tilting his head just so.

"you've been working really hard," you tell him, curling even farther into him so you can place kisses along the arch of his neck. "you've done such a good job." you smile into the next kiss, feeling the way he swallows heavily at your words.

"but it's not finished." chan counters, trying his hardest to sound disappointed as he drags in a shaky breath.

"that's ok. puppy doesn't have to overwork himself to still be amazing, mm?" the way his fingers dig into the skin of your waist feels like a victory.

the goal for this evening wasn't exactly to get chan all breathy and whining, but you're not going to complain.

you kiss his chin, and then both of his cheek, moving your hands so they're settled in the slope where his neck meets his shoulders. you kiss all over his face until he's making little noises in the back of his throat and tugging at your hips. wanting you closer.

"does my puppy want something?" you ask, hovering over him and smiling. he's just so pretty. you're kind of stupidly in love with him.

chan blinks, some of the haze lifting from his eyes, and then he's swiftly pulling you fully into his lap. "can you stop being a tease?"

"isn't there a magic word you forgot to use?" you press a kiss to the hinge of his jaw, and then the highest point of his cheek. then down, to the very corner of his mouth. the whole time you keep your hands on him, thumb softly swiping along his collarbone.

"please." he breathes, trying his best to capture your mouth in a kiss.

well, you can't really keep denying him. not when he's being so good. he deserves to be rewarded. not only for how hardworking he is, but also because he's such a good listener.

being with chan is a lesson in patience, and you enjoy being the teacher as much, if not more, than being the student.

[timetoeatthebread-blog]

(Prologue) Perfect(?)Milo x F!Reader - Red Tulip

Summary: Takes place after “Secret ending: Give him everything”. Something goes terribly, terribly wrong and Milo gains his memories back all over again. As much as he still has feelings for Eris, he will try his best this time around to live a life without pain. Without Eris. Join Milo on an adventure where he tries to use you as part of his plan, only to slowly fall for you as he heals his heart from Eris.

Reasoning: When it comes to abusive relationships it can be hard to let go. Sadly, the world is not black and white, it's mostly gray, and therefore a lot of emotions can co-exist at the same time. You can realize that you've been in an abusive relationship and still have feelings for your abuser. The first step to healing is to realize the abuse and take appropriate steps, no matter how hard they are in the beginning.

Thank you so much @perfectlovevn for making the game. I really appreciate your hard work you put into it. If you don't like the fanfiction for any reason, or there's anything you don't agree with, feel free to tell me. I respect you a lot and if you don't like my fanfiction I'll delete it.

Fanfiction under cut: ~1.1k words.

It was cold and dark, and yet, as terrifying as the silence was, it was comforting. Everything felt so vivid. Yet, here he was, feeling nothing at the same time. Drifting in and out of consciousness, all he could do was sleep, surrounded by nothingness. 

How… Peaceful.

Is this what happens after death? 

Milo closed his eyes, contemplating. The more time he spent here, the more memories came flooding back to him. He didn’t know how long he’s been forced to relive everything. At the pinnacle of his memories lay Eris.

Oh, how much he loved them. He would do everything for them. Just like his past selves did - nothing would be spared when it came to his Love. Would he see them soon? How much longer will he be forced to be here?

With each memory, his thoughts became more deranged. Crazed. Obsessed. He couldn’t wait to see them again. His mind drifted to the new nickname they will give him. Excitement was almost overflowing out of his body. Until a new memory appeared. 

His emotions shifted. Anger, betrayal. Heartbreak. He desperately wanted to clench and hit something, yet he couldn’t move a thing. His throat refused to make a noise.

Silent tears ran down his cheeks. The poor man could only weep as his mind was being broken down, over and over again. And yet, here he was. Forced to watch how he followed Eris each time. How he blindly trusted them. How they bended him to their will.

As time passed, his emotions seemed to calm down. Anger changed to sadness, and from sadness came the blood thirst for revenge. With how he was stuck, however, it also went away with time. He just wished to be left alone. 

If given the chance to fix his mistakes, he would. He would have never looked in their direction. He would have forced himself to be more social. He would have forced himself to be as average as one can be - all to avoid their gaze. 

All to avoid their interest. To avoid their love.

It all left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

Despite the fact that they were the reason for his pain and suffering, he still couldn’t bring it in himself to wish anything bad onto them. Even if given the chance, he wouldn't be able to bring them any harm. Even after everything, a part of him still loved them.

The void continued to surround him for an unspecified amount of time. Until finally, his waiting has been rewarded in the best of ways - woken up in his old bedroom. Boxes were neatly placed along the wall and only essentials could be seen on top of his desk.

It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. More than he could ask for, actually. 

He clutched his heart as he took deep breaths in and out. Milo leaned his head against the wall to his right, the cold helping him to calm down. Soon, a smile crept onto his face. A dry chuckle followed soon after. He looked up at the ceiling.

As luck might have it, he went back in time before school started. Before his first year started. Before he met them.

It was too late to move to a different university. But it’s okay. He’ll do it after his first year. For now, he’ll have to think of something. Anything, to blend into the crowd.

For now, however, he needed more rest. Although he didn’t feel physically tired, his mental state was a completely different matter.

It didn’t take him long to make preparations. The easiest way would be to use what Eris taught him in all of his past lives. But it all felt wrong - after all, it brought back unwanted memories and emotions.

Whatever. It needs to be done. Milo pushed his emotions aside.

He would use what he had on hand. Both past memories and experience. 

Milo traced the notes he made in his dairy. The notes consisted of people he knew would be useful. He needed someone Eris disliked, but not outright hated. Just someone they preferred not to cross paths with.

As his eyes scanned the list of names, they soon landed on a name he knew quite well.

(Y/N).

Known around the campus, had a very clean slate - when it came to drama, at least. Mostly minded her business. Grades were slightly above average, but nothing too outstanding. A member of the swimming club. Popular for all the good deeds she did. Had no tolerance for bullying of her friends. Isn’t scared to get into a fight for her friends, either.

Back in the days when Milo was jumping from one social circle to the other, no one ever said anything bad about her. Even when he tried to dig up something, it was almost impossible to find anything. All that was found were her good deeds. No one knew her family history or anything too personal. It was suspicious. 

Getting into her circle of friends, however, was very easy. Breaking up said circle of friends was a different matter. It took some time and dedication. Some thinly veiled lies and set-ups, and he managed to do it. For Eris.

What a fool he was. How naive. How stupid.

He rubbed his temples before picking up a blue pen and circling around the most important fact about (Y\N).

Somehow, she always managed to avoid a bad end. No matter the scenario, in all his past lives, she was always a step ahead of him. Always able to escape his grip. Eris' plans didn't work on her either. As if she knew what Milo or Eris planned from the very beginning.

She would make for a good cover. A welcoming group of friends that is hard to break up. Somehow always predicted what Eris was up to. Hard to scam. Perfect.

He would use her as his perfect cover. By becoming her friend, he will use her loyalty as a shield.

Now for physical strength…

Milo looked over his body. Arms, chest, stomach, legs.

A shudder runs down his spine as he thinks of the pain he had endured. He won’t be a victim of bullying this time. That’s for certain.

He’ll work both on his social skills and on his physical abilities. There won’t be any pain in this life. Not this time.

Milo pushed himself away from his desk gently and threw his head back, rubbing his eyes and taking his time to collect his thoughts. Memories of past lives still played on repeat whenever he closed his eyes. All he could do was hope that it would become easier to manage over time.

For now, he’ll need to find a way to meet (Y/N). Preferably before university starts, since he can’t sign up for the swimming club yet. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to scout the local swimming pools, to see if he would be able to find her. Maybe going to a party and socializing would help him get some information.

It didn't take him long to come up with a schedule to find (Y/N).

[moraphoni]

SHIT

After being so caffeinated, 400g of chocolate, slept the whole evening, boymoding at the easter family lunch, discovering very bad stuff about my gramma, going into defensive irony mode from myself after I was forced to act for 3/4 hours like everyone expects me to be.... tomorrow I gotta do it again...

Just trying to touch the ground again... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n4GqE9Ie0oI I feel partial and cold, outside there are the usual shitheads ruining this city making obnoxious noises. I feel heavy and dizzy, one from my family I was so proud to be my grandma is, absolutely, totally, not as good as it always seemed.

I feel drained, my body is fighting against me and there are idiot that would say to my face after 2 suicide attempts cause "nature is natural" or some shit, also my aunt born and died 2 days later was so natural in fact, so how can it now be right? Why there were so many tears?

oh but I can't say that cause I'm delusional, that's right all in my head, because I can totally change my brain 100% almost like GOOP! in fact, it doesnt even exist there is only silly meat and magic in there,,,,,, wait not even the meat. Oh yeah fun fact, given this, autism might as well be a choice!!! I feel cold and wrong. Constantly, Constantly because I wish every single second I am away from my love that I was just born normal, a normal guy with or girl I don't even care anymore just not feeling like this, with an idiot brain some idiotic friends and into bullshit stuff and music idc idc idc.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UDZreBx8SQM

But once I said this I realized this way I would have not been able to meet and know my only real love, and once in a call with her knowing that I was still like "I wish I was born normal anyways", and I made her cry, and I will never forget when I make her cry, because they are terrible memories and I don't want them to happen ever again, I don't wanna go into details.

The world will go to shit and I will not care. go fuck yourselves all of you I had enough. I cared too much about people that I will never see and I never saw, ever again, fucking got left by my "best friends" at the time cause I "faked suicide", braindead teachers helping my classmates bully me, spent years in total reclusion and derealization, depersonalization from myself only for one day to wake up and not being able to move, and when I was able to drag myself out of the bed I wish I never did because I waS SO FUCKING AWARE.

6 months spent having EVERY SINGLE DAY panic attacks mixed with psychoses at times even violent because I was finally facing what I've been hiding and hiding and running away from, fuck you I am trans and I don't care if the world goes so much to shit... I will look you straight in the eyes when I do it fully knowing it won't change anything and you don't care if not find enjoyment in it

the universe is not fair, the only fairness the universe gives us is death for all.

and no one will have enough memories to realize how to escape this hell because there is no end or death. I hope we all burn in here forever into infinite levels of consciousness and realities forever bound to face ALL THE WORST THINGS THAT CAN HAPPEN AND WILL HAPPEN.

[freelafan4life545]

Wooo. Fanfic's done.

@a-love-that-transcends-all @ladybender @capt-t-leela

Please enjoy. You might be surprised.

A Thousand Years for You

The apartment was quieter than usual. The day had been long, filled with chaotic deliveries, near-death experiences, and an infuriating run-in with Zapp Brannigan. Leela had held it together—like she always did—but Fry could see it. The tension in her shoulders, the tight way she held her jaw, the exhaustion hidden behind her single, tired eye.

Fry wanted to say something, do something, but Leela wasn’t one to be pushed. So instead, he just stayed close, offering her little things: a fresh cup of Slurm, an extra cushion on the couch, even letting her take the last slice of pizza. She acknowledged it with small smiles, but the weight of the day still hung over her.

Later that night, they lay in their bed together. It had been months since they’d officially started dating, and while their relationship wasn’t perfect, it was real. Fry treasured every moment with her, even the quiet ones like this—when the world wasn’t demanding anything from them, and they could just exist in each other’s arms.

Leela shifted against him, her breath steady, her body finally relaxing into sleep. Fry closed his eyes, content just being near her.

But then, in the stillness of the night, he felt it.

A tremor.

Leela was shivering.

At first, he thought she might just be cold, but then he heard a small, choked noise. A whimper.

Fry’s eyes snapped open. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her in the dim light. Her face was tense, her brow furrowed. A single tear slipped down her cheek. She was crying in her sleep.

His chest ached. Leela was the strongest person he knew, always holding everything together. But here, in the safety of the dark, the weight she carried was crushing her.

“Leela,” he whispered, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She didn’t wake.

“Leela, wake up,” he said a little louder, shaking her shoulder lightly.

She gasped, her eye flying open as she bolted upright. Her breath was ragged, panic flickering in her expression before she realized where she was. Who she was with.

Fry didn’t ask what the dream was about. He didn’t need to. Instead, he reached for her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “Hey… I got you,” he murmured. “You’re safe.”

Leela exhaled shakily, wiping at her damp cheek. “I—I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Fry shook his head. “I don’t care about that. I just… I hate seeing you like this.” He hesitated before adding, “I wish you’d talk to me when you’re feeling like this.”

Leela sighed, staring at their intertwined hands. “I know. It’s just… hard.”

Fry nodded, understanding more than she probably realized. He wasn’t always good with words, but he knew how to be there for her.

An idea popped into his head. Maybe it was cheesy, maybe it was dumb—but it was Fry, so that was kind of a given.

He cleared his throat. “I—I wanna try something.”

Leela looked at him, curiosity in her tired eye.

Then, softly, he started to sing.

"Heart beats fast, colors and promises… How to be brave? How can I love when I’m afraid to fall?"

Leela’s lips parted slightly, surprised. His voice wasn’t perfect—sometimes a little shaky, sometimes off-key—but it was him.

"But watching you stand alone… All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow… One step closer…"

Fry kept his eyes on her, his heart hammering in his chest. He meant every word.

Leela’s expression softened, something breaking inside her walls. Her fingers tightened around his.

He continued, voice gentle, raw with emotion.

"I have died every day waiting for you… Darling, don’t be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years… I’ll love you for a thousand more."

A tear slipped down Leela’s cheek, but this time, it wasn’t from pain.

Fry reached up, wiping it away with his thumb. “Leela… no matter what happens, no matter how bad your day is, or how much you think you have to handle on your own—I’ll always be here. You’re safe with me. Always.”

Leela let out a shaky breath, then—without warning—she leaned in, pressing her forehead against his.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Fry smiled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She melted into him, resting her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

And for the first time that night, Leela finally felt at peace.

💜🧡