#and come up with this name and gone ‘oh I like how that sounds’

[abouttocommitarson]

The villan heard the laughter before it abruptly stopped. She glanced up and saw... hero? The villan had never thought she would see hero again. Ok okokokokokokkokokok try not to panic, just act normal the villan told herself. The hero while this was happening had stopped dead in her track and was staring at the villan mouth agape. The rest of the gaggle of 20-somethings around her were glancing at the hero trying to figure out who she was staring at. villan told herself ok um just ignore hero surely she'll think she's seeing things or something, I look a lot different since we last fought. Besides I'm supposed to be dead. One of heros friends shook a hand in front of her face,

"Hello? Hero? Anyone in there?" He said knocking on heros forehead

"Huh? Oh yeah I'm fine," hero said with a nervous laugh, and tried to wrench their gaze away from the woman at the bar she seemed so familiar but hero couldn't place her face "just, y'know"

"Because you're not telling me I really don't know but ok" responded heros friendwith a smirk.

Throughout the night hero kept glancing at villan and her friends kept nudging her and whispering at her villan had noticed. Her plan was to get drunk so she would forget this had happened and then call a cab to get home. She had avoided this for so long! She had faked her own death-quite convincingly she thought, moved to a different city, made a new identity, and cut contact with anyone from her past life and STILL the hero had found her, the villan scolded herself. What comes next? Police banging on her door? Going to court? Prison? She supposed she signed up for this when she chose the life of crime but she had grown since then! She'd changed! She was no longer a bloodthirsty criminal trying to destroy a city she had a nice apartment a working car and a cat life was going well. Well, she laughed to herself good things never last forever.

"What'cha laughing about?" Came a voice from next to her, villan glanced up and had it not been for her already very pale complexion she would have gone white as a ghost. Hero had sat down next to her and was trying to make small talk.

"So uh how's your week been? Whats your name?" Hero was shitty at small talk and she knew it but was she this bad? The woman she sat next to was only a few years older then her at most and was staring at her like she just said that she liked homework, a mix of horror, confusion and fear. "Aaaaaaare you gonna respond or just stare at me like I'm a zoo exhibit?"

"Um sorry I just... do we know eachother?" Villan blurted, she didn't mean to, but she desperately needed to know if hero could recognise her. It sounded quite rude after she said it, but too late now she guessed.

I've lost motivation for this a bit, might come back later. If you guys like it. Please be nice I haven't written any storys since last February. Feedback and ideas welcome! Thanks

Edit: for those who were asking to be tagged in any and all stroys based of this prompt: @axxolotlqueen @lillysys @randomness20117

You, the villain, faked your death and started over years ago. But you never expected the hero to stumble into your new favorite bar, laughing with their friends.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Idea | Previous Part

tw: future dom-sub relationship, sexually explicit content, pet names, age gap (early twenties - late thirties)

The moment your eyes connected, you felt the typical blush rise onto your cheeks. The blush that always seemed to come when Mister Riley was nearby. He smiled down at you, the lower half of his face hidden behind a surgical mask, as always, but the crinkle around his eyes betrayed him.

With a quiet mumble of your name and a hand on your lower back, he ushered you forward, until you stood at the other end of the counter, where you had to wait for your drink. Meanwhile, his hand didn’t move, only pulling you against him whenever other people got too close. You tried to tell yourself that this, his behavior, his…almost possessiveness, meant nothing. He was just being nice and polite as always. Just keeping you safe, even if there was no threat nearby.

When you finally received your drink, Mister Riley led you back to your table - you didn’t question how he knew where you were sitting. “How are you doing, love?” Mister Riley got comfortable, taking off his black wool coat and hanging it over the back of the chair next to his, before resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward. You on the other hand shifted nervously. All the hope that your little crush had faded in the last few years was gone.

The way he was looking at you sent your heart into a frenzy, beating as if you were running a marathon, when you were just sitting across from him in a cafe. Not even four years of not seeing him could stop the effect he had on you.

When he suddenly raised an eyebrow, you realized you never answered his question. “Oh, uhm…I’m good. A bit stressed, but that’s it.” You tried to smile but weren’t sure if it reached your eyes. By the look he gave you, you could tell that it didn’t. “What about you, sir?” He chuckled, the low sound reverberating in your heart. “How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Simon, huh?” Your face flushed again and you wished you could see his grin through his mask. A stammered answer fell from your lips, but he interrupted you, the joyful expression replaced by a frown.

“What’s stressing you, little one?” The look in his eyes was intense, as if he was ready to kill whatever dared to stress you and the nickname didn’t help the butterflies in your stomach. This means nothing. He’s not interested, goddamnit! Your eyes found a weird carved-in spot on the table in front of you. It was suddenly very interesting. “Oh, you know…just college.” You dared to glance up, just to see his frown deepen, clearly not believing a word you were saying. Suddenly, that one weird, carved spot on the table became incredibly interesting. As you were lightly tracing it with the tip of your right index finger, he reached across the table and gently tilted your head to look up at him. “What’s really going on?” A heavy sigh left your lips before everything just spilled out of you.

How your father just disappeared and stopped sending you the money you needed for the apartment and everything else. How you had to move into the worst part of town ever and how you’ve been looking for a job ever since. You tried to hide just how desperate you were, he didn’t have to know that you had a fantastic ten pounds left in your account right now. And you had already tapped into your savings. Sadly you needed your father’s permission to tap into the fund he had sat up for you.

Mister Ril- Simon listened quietly, concern evident on his face as you jumped from one issue to the next. And when you were done, he pulled out his wallet. Your eyes widened immediately and you started to shake your head as he held out what looked like a credit card. “No, no. Mister Riley, no, I can’t accept that, I-”, before you could continue your protests, his fingers closed around your chin again and held your mouth shut. “You’re going to be a good girl, take this card and say thank you, okay? And call me Simon.”

Heat immediately rushed to your core, the gravely tone doing something to you, as you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. With the tight grip on you, you couldn’t move your head too much, but it was just enough for a slight nod. A grin formed under that mask again and he let go, pulling his hand back, but not without letting his fingers linger slightly. “Good girl.”

You swallowed again, noticing how his eyes immediately jumped to your throat. In the moment you weren’t sure if you imagined them turning darker for just a moment before he looked back into your eyes. The two of you held the eye contact for a few moments, before you broke it, once again looking down at that one spot. He cleared his throat, the awkwardness in the air disappearing when he started talking again.

“I want you to use that card for whatever you need, okay? You’re in college, I want you to concentrate on your studies, you hear me? And if you need more, just say the word.” You nodded again, already knowing that you’d continue with your job hunt as soon as he left. And that you would definitely not be using that card for, like, anything. As much as you appreciated him wanting to help, you knew that you could do it on your own.

“Also, about that apartment-” He was interrupted by the sound of heels clicking against the floor of the cafe. Both of you looked up as a gorgeous woman, similar age to his, walked up, smiling, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you almost done, dear? We still have that meeting with-”, she glanced at you and quickly corrected herself. “-that meeting we have to get to.” Your eyes immediately focused on the sparkling ring on her finger. It was beautiful, even if a little too sparkly for you. Simon looked up at her and smiled. “Of course, dear. I’ll be right out. Tell Johnny to keep the engine on.” The woman nodded and smiled one more time at you before she left.

She seemed kind, but the jealousy that bubbled in your veins wanted you to hate her. From what you had just witnessed, you doubted you could. “I’m sorry, but she’s right, I have to go. Give me your phone.” Too stunned to do anything but comply, you unlocked it and handed it to him. He quickly put something - his number you assumed - and rung himself, before handing it back. He stood up and put on his coat, looking at you one more time. “Ring me if you ever need something, okay? And be a good girl and do as you’re told.” He leaned over, grasping your chin one last time and making you look at him. You weakly nodded, your mind still hung up on the gorgeous wife of his.

His eyes narrowed, but after a second of hesitation, he too nodded, before pressing a gentle kiss against your cheek, through his mask. “Be good.” And with those words, he pulled back, turned around, and left the cafe, while you just sat there, staring at the door he walked through and thinking to yourself ‘the fuck was that’.

Next Part

A/N: Really enjoyed writing this part. I hope you like it!

@alilstressyandlotdepressy @brickwall035 @trampondemand @inarabee @blinca @rileys3dworld @msjaeger @oreojenni @starlightmoon2020 @piconico17 @l1lpip @originalsoulcollector

[witchygagirlwrites]

Consider Me Gone-Part 1

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader x Jay Halstead/ Gerstead x Reader

You know your guys love you but when a case brings up bad memories and they don't turn to you? That makes you begin to doubt yourself, your relationship, everything.

You could still remember the look on your sister’s face when you told her you were deploying. The fear, the apprehension. She was afraid of you not coming home, afraid that if you made it home you wouldn’t be the same woman that left. You knew the risks that came along with the path you chose, you also knew the risks of not taking it. You had to do something with your life and that was the only path you could’ve taken at that point in your life.

When you were tasked to the 75th regiment you’d nearly questioned your commanding officer. There were men and women in the 68W that had a lot more time under their belt than you but he’d been content with your record and next thing you knew your boots were hitting the dirt in Korengal Valley.

When you reported to duty you were introduced to your unit, the men and women who you would be responsible for keeping alive under fire. Two men stood out amongst them. One with sky blue eyes, the other seafoam blue. Both of them equally gorgeous with smiles that would’ve stopped you in your tracks had you met them under different circumstances. They watched you intently from the moment you said your name and the commanding officer told the unit to be welcoming to you because “She’s gonna keep your sorry asses alive” 

It took all of a half an hour before Jay Halstead and Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz were introducing themselves to you. “Mouse huh?” you asked and he’d given you a grin that showed off a set of dimples “It’s a stupid nickname but I’m the first to admit it” you cut your eyes at Jay “How’d he get it?” he winked at you “Oh sweetheart you gotta earn that story” From that day on the three of you always seemed to find each other. 

One day you had just stepped out of the med tent to catch your breath, the scent of blood heavy in your nose. You had lost someone, you knew it was hopeless from the moment he’d been brought in. You hadn’t told him that. The letter in the pocket of your pants felt so much heavier than a folded sheet of paper. He’d pressed it into your hand and begged you to make sure his boyfriend got it. 

You took a deep breath, trying to find air that didn’t burn your lungs on the way down. “Doc, you feeling ok?” you turned at the sound of Mouse’s voice and forced a smile onto your face “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not a doctor Gerwitz?” he grinned “You seemed pretty doctorish to me” you shook your head “Where’s your shadow?” he nodded across the way and you spotted Jay talking to Anderson “We just got back in” “Nice to see I’m not having to put either of you back together” you teased and he shrugged “We try our best to stay outta your way”

“The rest of the unit in one piece?” you asked and he nodded “Yes ma’am” both him and Jay always did that. Why, you weren’t sure. “Good, less people in my tent, the better” he nodded “We’ll be back for a few days. If you don’t wanna be alone” “You asking me to spend time with you? Aww that’s adorable” you teased and saw him bite back a grin “You’re a pain in the ass at times, you know that?”

You grinned “You and Jay wouldn’t hang out with me if I wasn’t and I damn sure wouldn’t have lasted this long in the rangers” he laughed “Ain’t that the truth” Jay started your way and smirked when he saw you “If it isn’t my favorite medic. Feel like giving me a once over yet doc?” you shook your head “I’ll sew your lips shut Halstead” he grabbed over his heart “You’re killing me sweetheart, killing me”

Athena, the only other woman out of your unit walked up and shook her head “Easy boys. The only one spending nights with our medic is me” she slung her arm around your shoulders and winked at you “Isn’t that right sugar?” you grinned “Damn right” and busted out laughing at the look on Jay and Mouse’s faces.

You spent two tours in that place. With Jay and Mouse it wasn’t so bad. They were your best friends, never looked at you like you were less because you were a woman and you felt comfortable around them which said alot.

The day you knew you had to get out was hell on earth. That damn convoy still haunted your dreams. Having to pull your unit out the flames, being forced to move on from the ones you couldn’t save and simply stabilize who you could and pray a chopper got there before you lost them. Mouse and Jay were medically discharged and you took your discharge as well. You couldn’t face it anymore. 

You never would’ve thought that the years spent over there would result in you falling in love with those two rangers who were always such a pain in your ass yet here you were. 

You groaned when you tried to stretch but movement was inhibited by two sets of strong arms wrapped around your body. You slowly opened your eyes to see that Jay was curled up to your back, hands holding your hips and face pressed between your shoulders, while Mouse had his arms thrown over your stomach and his face resting on your breasts as pillows.

At least they were comfortable. You shifted, trying to figure out a way from under the mess of limbs when Jay’s hands tightened on your hips and you felt his erection pressing into your ass “Princess, it’s a little too early for you to be making sounds like that and squirming up against me like that”

You shot him a playful glare “If my boyfriends didn’t act like I was going to run away in the middle of the night maybe I could get up to go get coffee” Mouse’s lips teased across your bare chest “Well if it hadn’t taken us years to convince you to want us maybe we wouldn’t be worried”

You turned your head back towards him and he was grinning up at you from where his head was still laid on your breasts. “You two were flirts then when we got home we didn’t see each other for a while then well let’s not talk about then” he moved up to brush a gentle kiss against your lips “No let's not talk about then”  Jay slipped a hand around your neck to gently tilt your head back to him “Let’s talk about now” his lips were feather light but being in their arms were always like a fire being set inside of you. It had been that way since you finally let yourself give in that first time. 

“We’re all gonna be late for work” you reminded and Jay grinned “I set the clock back an hour so we’d have more time” you shook your head “You’re horrible” he shrugged “We love our girl, what’s horrible about that?”

You felt Mouse’s hand slip down between your thighs and when you let them fall open without thought he chuckled “Looking like you don’t care too much about being late love”

By the time you parked at med Will was already texting you asking where the hell you were at. You didn’t dignify your dear brother in law with a response and simply pocketed your phone and headed inside.

When you passed the front desk Maggie smiled “Good morning” “Mornings Mags. Where’s Halstead? He’s blowing me up like I’m not still five minutes before my shift” She looked behind you and grinned. You turned around and glared up at Will “What’s the rush?” his eyes widened “They have baby nurses from the med school here. If I didn’t have you they’d stick me with one of them” you shook your head with a laugh “Oh honey” 

You knew as much if not more than most of the doctors here but you hadn’t had the desire to get the doctor title. Registered Nurse suited you just fine, besides they knew what you could do here. Most of the time you either worked side by side with Will or Ethan. Neither of them ever questioned your call. You waved a hand “Fear not big red. Your favorite nurse is here. Let’s start the day”

He slipped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug “I don’t know how my brother ever got lucky enough to get you” then pointed you towards his first patient’s room.

_______________

You were just sitting down in the breakroom when your phone chimed with a text from Erin Mollys tonight? Please?? You laughed lightly and texted back I’ll meet you there dear. Let the boys know their choices are either go out with me or I’m going alone

You opened your water and barely got a bite of your sandwich before two texts popped up in the group text thread between you, Jay and Mouse that read We’re coming and Baby, don’t play like that you shook your head and texted back was just giving you options geez

Ethan walked in and sat down across from you, leaning back in his seat. You cut your eyes up “You good Choi?” he nodded “Yeah, just beat” you nodded in agreement. This shift had been back to back. Your lunch break was supposed to be four hours before. You’d managed to eat a pack of the crackers Maggie kept in her desk between running tests but that had been about it. 

“You working tomorrow?” you asked and he shook his head “No, how about you?” you shook your head “No, I’m off for two days? I think.” he looked up “Our schedules sync up then” you grinned “Good, I like working with you and Will” he laughed “That’s just because we both know you’re a trauma specialist you just don’t have the title” you grinned “Exactly”

When you got home Jay and Mouse were already there. Jay was laid across the couch when you walked in and you could hear Mouse somewhere in the house. Jay grinned when you walked in “There’s the sexiest medic that ever walked” 

You shook your head “Easy ranger. Just a trauma nurse nowadays” he reached a hand out so you let him pull you to him, having to straddle his waist to keep from just falling across him. His eyes flickered across you and even in your scrubs, with your hair falling down he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous woman he ever laid eyes on, then again he’d looked at you like then when you wore ACUs.

His hands gripped your thighs gently “I love you baby” you smiled “I love you too Jay” you leaned down to steal a kiss from him and the moment your lips met you heard Mouse “Oh I go to finish the laundry and get left out”

You looked up from where you were on Jay and grinned “He got me time I walked in, sorry” Mouse shook his head “Thought we agreed a long time ago, we both got her” Jay looked up at him “Can you blame me? Look at my view?”

You shook your head and kissed Jay before climbing off of him. You walked over to Mouse and pulled him into a kiss before checking the time “I gotta shower so I can meet Erin and Kim” That was all it took for Jay to jump up off the couch and Mouse to snap to attention “Want some company?” you shook your head, that was what had taken so long finding this place, a shower big enough for three.

“Come on then. No funny business or I’ll kick you out of the shower” you warned, leading the way to the bathroom and feeling their hands teasing you on the way. “You didn’t say no funny business before the shower” Mouse teased, lips close to your ear.

You walked into Mollys between Jay and Mouse. Jay had your hand in his, his fingers curled around yours and Mouse had his fingers hooked in your belt loops. You’d teased them that you looked like a flight risk. They’d replied that they were just keeping a hand on you. 

When the music hit you along with familiar voices you looked around and spotted the rest of intelligence at the end of the bar, well minus Voight and Al. “There she is!” Erin called and you dropped Jay’s hand and pulled away from Mouse to pull her into a hug. She grinned over your shoulder at the two of them “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna keep her”

____________________

“I’m just saying, I have seen a t-shirt and some duct tape save a leg” you laughed and Adam raised an eyebrow “Did you do it?” Jay leaned up over your shoulder considering you were currently sitting halfway in his lap “Yes she did”

You cut your eyes back at him “You weren’t even there sir” he shrugged “No but Anderson told me about it” you shook your head and looked back at Adam “Point is in the moment you’d be surprised what could be useful Ruz”

Mouse walked back up with Kevin and the drinks they’d gone after. He passed you your then handed Jay his beer before brushing a kiss against your lips. You grinned then he sat down next to you. “How did you ever get stuck with these two anyways?” “Watch it Lindsay” they both warned playfully. You laughed “They were already a bonded pair, if I took one I had to take the other”

Everyone started laughing at your response but you made sure to lean back against Jay and reach out for Mouse just in case they took your teasing to heart.  “Is that the trifecta?” you heard a voice say and your eyes widened. Only one person ever called you, Jay and Mouse that.

You jumped up from Jay’s lap, He was on his feet and Mouse was too as Athena walked up to your group. She looked how you remembered. Five foot nine, honey brown hair tied up and bright amber eyes. You never did understand why the boys went for you while she was there but you were glad they did. She’d been a heaven sent amongst the testosterone during those days. More than one night had been full of laughter in your shared tent.

“Athena!” you hollered, pulling her into a hug. She squeezed you tightly, nodding to Jay and Mouse “Hey boys” Once she let you go she hugged them both. “What are you doing in Chicago? Last time we talked you were in D.C?” you asked because she was stationed at the marshal office there. She nodded “I’m in town working a case. Heard this was a good place to get a drink. Didn’t expect to find my unit here”

“Are we gonna get introduced?” Kim asked and you laughed lightly “Oh Athena this is the unit Jay works in and that Mouse is a tech expert for” you introduced them one by one. She nodded “What about you fireball?” you grinned “You know me, I’m at the hospital” “Trauma specialist?” she asked and you shook your head “Trauma nurse” “Close enough. You know more than any of those M.D.s do”

___________

The four of you caught up a little but then she needed to join the people she’d come with so all of you traded your newest numbers before she left. You noticed Erin and Kim both cutting their eyes at her as she walked off but didn’t think anything of it until Erin whispered “Do we like her?”

You nodded “She’s good” “Are you sure. Cause if you don’t like her, we don’t” Kim whispered and you laughed, making Mouse shoot you a look. You shook your head “You don’t wanna know baby” before telling them both “She’s ok. She was in the same unit as us. The only other woman. She had my back a lot” “Ok” Erin said after a moment and Kim nodded too.

“That was insane seeing Athena again” you laughed, walking into your house. Mouse nodded “Yeah, been a while since we saw anyone out of the unit” “Yeah” Jay agreed.

You tried and failed to stifle a yawn which made them share a grin “I think we need to put her to bed” Jay laughed. “Only if you two come with me” you pouted and they both shook their heads “She’s so damn spoiled. What happened to that medic that used to threaten to sew my lips shut?” Jay asked and you grinned “I figured out I like you being able to use your lip and your tongue and other things”

He cut his eyes at Mouse “I say we make sure she gets a good night's rest. What do you think?” Mouse’s eyes were glued to you “I say that’s a damn good idea”

Two days passed and you didn’t really think too much more about Athena being in Chicago. You ended up pulling doubles at the hospital and Intelligence had just finished wrapping up a drug bust worth a quarter of a million.

You stood at the front desk, rubbing your hand across your eyes. “You good?” Will asked and you looked up at him “Aces” he grinned “I swear you act too much like you’re with my brother at times. You can admit if you’re tired or something” you shook your head “I’m fine Will, really. I need some coffee and maybe some water too then I’ll be good as new” 

He nodded “Do me a favor and add some food somewhere in that mix? I’m gonna get my ass kicked twice over if you pass out on my watch” you grinned at him “Don’t worry if they kick your ass while I’m out I’ll take care of it when I wake up. We have the same base training”

You rotated your neck in a tight circle and got ready to go back to work but your phone started ringing. You pulled it out and saw it was Erin. “Hello?” you answered and her voice was low “Can you talk?” “Yeah, why?” your stomach knotted at her tone. She took a deep breath before saying “They probably wouldn’t want me to tell you but we caught a case that I think may have triggered something for your fellas. I overheard Jay and Mouse talking about Henderson? It sounded like they were arguing and that this case had enough similarities to remind them”

Your hand flew out to the desk to steady yourself. Memories of the shape Mark had been in when he was found flew through your head, how hard you worked to stabilize him and the striking realization that all you had to offer his wife was that after all the hell he suffered he died with a friend at his side. 

You vaguely registered her calling your name twice before April touching your arm snapped you back to the present “Yeah? Um thanks Erin for letting me know. If they start arguing and cause interruptions to the case, call me?” “Of course” 

You hung up with her and looked at April who was staring at you with an unspoken question written plainly across her face “I’m ok April” she shook her head “You know I live with someone who served, right?” you offered her a smile “I promise, I’m ok” she smiled slightly “If you need someone to talk to I’m here and if you need someone who’s been there Ethan is always there for you too” “Thank you” you told her and she nodded “Of course”

She walked off so you slid your phone into your pocket. They would call if they needed you, if not you’d talk to them that night. Mark was a hard spot for all of you. His wife’s cries still haunted your dreams on some nights.

About an hour before you were getting off Jay sent a text in the thread We’re gonna grab a beer after work ok, normally they would have worded that do you want to grab a beer after work. Were they not including you? Just you two? You asked and felt your heart hit your feet when he texted back Thena is still in town so she’s gonna meet us. We won’t be long. We love you 

Was it the memories of Mark’s final moments, the ghost of his wife gripping to you begging you to say it wasn’t true or the slap in the face of knowing your guys were hurting and not seeking you out that forced the tears from your eyes? You weren’t sure but angry hot tears slipped down your face before you could stop them.

“Woah, what’s wrong and don’t you dare say nothing” Will asked and you hadn’t even realized he was standing over you. What were you supposed to tell him? Will loved you like a sister, yeah but Jay was actually his brother. How could you explain you were crying because your boyfriends wanted to get a beer with someone out of their unit? It’s not like they were being sneaky and hid it. They told you.

“Um, bad day Will” you whispered and he slipped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “Want me to call Jay?” “NO!” you said a little harsher than you meant to. He pulled back and looked down at you “Are you sure you’re ok?” You nodded “Yeah, just had some stuff trudged up. I just need to make another hour, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry the guys”

“If you need me, I’m here” he reminded you with a smile before kissing the top of your head “I am your favorite brother in law after all” you shook your head “Mouse is an only child” he grinned “Even more reason for me to be your favorite” 

Once he walked away you let your face fall. Maybe you were reading too much into it? That was all? You just needed to focus. You couldn’t split attention at work. Lives were at risk.

You parked next to Jay’s truck and took a deep breath. You wouldn’t push. If they wanted to talk to you, they would. God please let them talk to you. 

You grabbed your belongings and headed inside. You needed to start a load of your scrubs. You went through two pairs this shift alone and they had to be washed separately.

_______________

You walked in the door and they were sitting on the couch, watching the Blackhawks game. “Hey baby” Mouse greeted with a smile. “Hey” you replied, moving past them towards the laundry room. “You ok sweetheart?” Jay called behind you and you rolled your eyes to not bite off a comment you may later regret “I need to start a load of my scrubs. I went through two pairs this shift” 

You heard them moving as you walked into the laundry room and turned to see they were at the door “I washed them love. They’re in your dresser” Mouse told you with a smile. “Oh, thank you” you replied, dropping the dirty bag to the floor and pulling the scrubs out to pretreat.

You saw them exchange a look before Jay asked “Did we do something we don’t know about?” you didn’t look at them and just shook your head “No” “How long have we known you sweetheart? We know what that no means” Mouse pushed so you dropped the scrubs in the washer then turned to face them “Nothing is wrong, ok? I had a long day, I’m tired. You two are apparently aces so I’m gonna go shower”

________________

You started the washer then pushed past them to get out of the room. Both of them reached out to grab you, Mouse around the waist and Jay your arm “Uh uh” “What is it baby?” 

You took a deep breath then said “Erin called me about the case. Said you two were talking about Henderson” “Oh” “Oh” 

You nodded slowly “Oh, so we don’t communicate anymore?” Jay shrugged “It’s not that big of a deal. This case, the victim..he was tortured for information” “It was really similar to Henderson” Mouse added. “Are you two ok?” you asked, looking from one to the other. You knew them. Mouse would need to talk it out when old memories were trudged up and Jay would try to bury it all unless you forced him to talk.

“Yeah, that’s why we grabbed the beer with Thena, talk with someone who was there” Jay explained and he could have punched you dead in the gut and it would have hurt less. “Someone who was there?” he realized his wording and looked to Mouse for help on backpedaling.

“Baby he didn’t mean it like that” you shook your head “Fuck it. I need to shower” you stormed past them, shrugging their hands off your body. “Alone”

________________

You could hear Jay and Mouse both outside the door, trying to talk to you but you ignored them, turning the water on as high as you could get it and sinking to the floor of the shower. “Someone who was there” nice to know everything you went through didn’t mean a damn thing. 

You didn’t even realize you were crying until the salty tears hit your lips. You didn’t try to stifle your sobs. What were they gonna do? Go talk to Athena about it?

______________

When you got out of the shower and dressed you opened the bathroom door to find Mouse sitting on the floor on one side of the door and Jay on the other “What are you two doing?” you asked and Mouse said “Waiting for you, we heard you crying” “I’m fine Greg” you sighed and walked past them to the bedroom.

You crawled into bed, curling up in the middle where you usually slept. They quickly disrobed and climbed into bed on either side of you. “Can we touch you?” Jay asked and you nodded. You felt them slip their arms around you and closed your eyes trying not to let his words play through your head yet again. “I love you sweetheart,” Mouse whispered. “I love you too Greg” 

“I love you princess” Jay whispered and you nodded “I love you Jay” you forced your eyes to close. You desperately needed sleep, maybe you’d feel more clear headed come tomorrow? Maybe you would be able to form calm enough thoughts to approach the whole “Someone who was there” comment without tears or screaming coming into the equation but for tonight you needed sleep.

@desimarie12

@alterna123

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

I literally made a post on Tumblr about this idea but thought I'd actually share it here but decided to make a more special version:

The y/ns one day going into a throw down to see who is the best y/n...the superior y/n...like the embodiment of the song 'the ultimate showdown'...Or, if you want another version I think is also super fun...'the ultimate smash bros' lol...

And can imagine the cookies standing idly by in shock as they see things like streamer cookie throwing a left hook at alien y/n or entity y/n going John Cena on timid y/n...oooor the cookies, when they notice the y/n show down, start trying to stop it, loving all the y/ns and not wanting them to destroy each other lol!

Decided to write this bonus with the version where cookie are trying to stop the fight...just various scenarios that are happening all at once because of the number of y/ns lol:

Entity, in a tree about to jump from it elbow first onto timid y/n: AND THEIR NAME IS ENTITY Y/N COOKIE!

Regular, seeing entity jump right at them: OH DEAR WITCHES-

pure vanilla, quickly running up to push timid y/n out of the way and then catch entity so they don't take fall damage: BOTH OF YOU, STOP! WE LOVE YOU EQUALLY!!!

Meanwhile:

Streamer, holding a modified keyboard to work both as a keyboard and a blunt weapon in their hands: LET'S FUDGING DO THIS!

Alien, with a blunt alien weapon: COME AT ME, YOU COWARD!

Caramel arrow: OK, BREAK IT UP YOU TWO!

Meanwhile:

Timid y/n and shy y/n...really not wanting to fight but know this is a free for all and both immediately think the other is gonna kick their butt: .....

Both immediately start crying.

Cream ferret rushes up, trying to calm them both down: shh shh it's OK you don't have to fight, let's go for hot chocolate instead...doesn't that sound nicer?

They both go off with cream ferret.

Just pure chaos heh...sorry if this idea sounds stupid just with the y/n tag having so many different kinds of y/n cookies...having a creative mind and listening to these songs all combined really makes ya think XD

Let's- Lemme just list how many Y/N cookies I've made just to be sure what I'm getting into=

Ancient Y/N- virtue of patience

Beast Y/N- Shadow of wrath

Child ancient Y/N- Virtue of innocence

Child beast Y/N- Shadow of grief

Male batman Y/N

Entity Y/N

Alien Y/N- (No stories on them yet)

Robot Y/N

Streamer Y/N

Timid Y/N

Shy Y/N

Ghost Y/N

Merchant Y/N

Isekai'd Y/N

Baker Y/N

Tarzan Y/N

Child of White Lily cookie Y/N

Yeah- I'm gonna figure out how to do all of them T T oh boy-

Y/N cookie showdown!

On a random day of a random week on a random month in a random year, the Y/N cookies found themselves in a predicament. They wanted to be the best Y/N cookie. But what happens when everyone wants to be the best? They argue and fight to claim that title. And unfortunately for the cookies, these 17 cookies were no different.

Ancient Y/N cookie and Beast Y/N cookie are trying to stangle each other

Ancient Y/N: DIE, FOWL BEAST!

Beast Y/N: TASTE MY WRATH, STUPID COPY!!!!

Pure Vanilla cookie and Shadow Milk cookie are tying their hardest to pull the two apart.

The Children aren't exactly any better, even if they aren't fighting physically since Mystic Flour cookie and White Lily cookie are holding them back.

Ancient child Y/N: Crybaby!

Beast child Y/N: Goody two shoes!

Both stop talking for a moment, before crying to the adults.

Both: They were being mean to me!

Mystic Flour cookie: There there,

White Lily cookie: It's ok little one.

Male Batman Y/N: *Holding merchant Y/N in a choke hold* Admit your defeat!

Merchant Y/N: *Wheezing* Over my dead body!

Male Batman Y/N: That can be arranged!

Black Raisin cookie: *Trying to push them apart* No! Stop fighting! I love you both too much to lose any of you! Stop!

Streamer Y/N: *Hitting Alien Y/N with their keyboard* Be gone!

Alien Y/N: *Behind a shield* Like your father?!

Caramel Arrow cookie: No no- no insults! Stop fighting before any of you get hurt!

Robot Y/N: *Trying to shoot entity Y/N* STOP MOVING SO I CAN ELIMINATE YOU!!!

Entity Y/N: *Moving in all kinds of inhumane ways* MAKE ME, METAL HEAD!

Agent Jjajang cookie: No- don't taunt each other! Just behave for witches sake!!!

Baker Y/N: *The only sensible one at the moment* Guys- there isn't a best Y/N, stop fighting-

Ghost Y/N and Isekai'd Y/N: SHUT UP!

Isekai'd Y/N: I'm about to exorcise a stupid ghost!

Ghost Y/N: Not if I hit you with another truck first!

Pumpkin pie cookie: No! Stop fighting! You'll end up hurting yourselves! Please stop!

Tarzan Y/N: *Casually holding child of White Lily cookie (COWL) Y/N by their ankle* Hahahahahaha

COWL Y/N: Put me down you brute! Put me down right now!

Cherry Blossom cookie: Aye! put them down!- put- Hey! Put them down and stop fighting this instant!

Shy Y/N: *Thinking they're done for*

Timid Y/N: *Thinking it's over for them*

Both begin crying and Cream Ferret cookie rushes to them both.

Cream Ferret cookie: Hey hey, it's ok. You don't have to fight. You're safe. Come on, let's get you some ice cream and candy for the other two crying over there.

Both nod as they follow Cream Ferret cookie.

[gardenladysworld]

Starbound hearts

Status: I'm working on it

Pairings: Neteyam x human!f!reader

Aged up characters!

Genre/Warnings: fluff, slow burn, oblivious characters, light angst, hurt/comfort, pining

Summary: In the breathtaking, untamed beauty of Pandora, two souls from different worlds find themselves drawn together against all odds. Neteyam, the dutiful future olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya clan, is bound by the expectations of his people and the traditions of his ancestors. She, a human scientist with a love for Pandora’s wonders, sees herself as an outsider, unworthy of the connection she craves.

Tags: @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog, @ratchetprime211, @poppyseed1031, @redflashoftheleaf

Part 11

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

Part 12: To feel

The distant sound of wings slicing through the night still echoed faintly in your ears, long after Neteyam and his ikran had disappeared into the starry sky. You stood there, frozen in place, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if to hold yourself together. The cool night air pressed against your skin, but your face burned, a betraying heat crawling up your neck and settling in your cheeks.

You could still feel the ghost of his touch—the brief, fleeting graze of his hand as he took the bag from yours. The warmth of his skin, the steadiness of his presence, lingered like a soft ache in your chest, a longing you didn’t know how to name. Your gaze was still fixed on the spot where he’d disappeared, your heart fluttering in a chaotic rhythm you couldn’t calm.

Behind you, Kate’s voice shattered the fragile silence.

“Wow,” Kate’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, her teasing tone slicing through the night air like a playful arrow. “I mean, I’ve seen people look lovesick before, but you’re taking it to a whole new level.”

Your head whipped toward her, heat rushing to your cheeks so fast you swore your face might catch fire. “What?” you sputtered, your voice higher-pitched than you intended. “I’m not— I wasn’t—”

She raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “You looked like a character from one of those old romance vids. All soft eyes and dreamy sighs, like he just galloped away on a white horse instead of flying off on a giant, terrifying death-bird.”

“I—what? No, I didn’t,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks grow impossibly hotter. “I was just... watching him leave. That’s all.”

Kate laughed, the sound bright and merciless. “Uh-huh. Sure. Watching him leave. With literal stars in your eyes. Girl, you are gone.”

Brian smirked, giving a small shake of his head. „You’re standing there like he just flew off to war and might never come back.”

Max didn’t say a word, but the twitch of his lips spoke volumes. Norm raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between you and the distant sky as if to say, Really?

You groaned, turning back toward the outpost to avoid their prying eyes. “I was just... making sure he took off safely. That’s all.”

Kate let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, okay. And I’m Eywa reincarnated. Sweetheart, you might as well have hearts floating around your head.”

“I hate you,” you muttered, your face burning.

“Oh, you love me,” Kate shot back, her grin widening. “But not as much as you love a certain tall, blue warrior, huh?”

You whipped around, your mortification growing. “Kate!”

Kate rolled her eyes, stepping closer with a theatrical sigh. “Listen, I get it,” she said, placing a hand dramatically over her chest. “He’s tall, blue, and brooding. It’s like the ultimate forbidden romance package. But girl...” She reached out and flicked your forehead gently. “Do you honestly not see how obvious it is?”

Your mouth opened, then closed. Words failed you, and all you could do was stare at her like she’d just grown a second head. “I—no, it’s not like that!” you sputtered finally, waving your hands. “He’s just—he’s just kind and helpful, that’s all.”

Kate groaned loudly, throwing her head back in mock despair. “Oh, Eywa, give me strength. She doesn’t even know she’s in love.”

Your stomach twisted, and your cheeks burned hotter. “Kate,” you hissed, glancing nervously at the others. “Could you not—”

Brian chuckled from behind her, his grin annoyingly wide. “She’s got a point. You looked ready to swoon.”

Norm shook his head, but there was a knowing smile tugging at his lips. Even Max, usually the most reserved, glanced at you with an amused look before turning back to the equipment.

“Guys,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Can we not make this a thing?”

Kate rolled her eyes so hard you thought they might fall out of her head. “Oh, please. You’re not fooling anyone, least of all yourself. You’re not just worried about him—you’re in love with him.”

The words hit you like a punch to the chest, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. “I’m not,” you said weakly, but even you could hear the lack of conviction in your voice.

“Yeah, you are,” Kate said bluntly, stepping closer. “And honestly? It’s written all over your face.”

“I—” You faltered, your heart pounding. “Even if I was, it doesn’t matter. It’s not like he could ever feel the same way.”

Kate groaned loudly, dragging her hand down her face in exasperation. “Are you serious right now? He literally just volunteered to fly into the middle of nowhere at night, for you. If that’s not a guy screaming ‘I care about you,’ then I don’t know what is.”

“That’s who he is. He helps people. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t mean anything?” Kate repeated, her voice rising. “Girl, have you seen the way he looks at you? The way he always makes sure you’re okay, or how he just happens to show up wherever you are? That man is smitten, and you’re too busy overthinking to see it.” Kate’s voice softened, but her determination didn’t waver. “You’re scared,” she said simply.

You froze, her words striking too close to home.

“You’re scared that if you tell him, he’ll pull away,” Kate continued, stepping beside you. “That it’ll change things, and you’ll lose him completely. But keeping this bottled up isn’t doing you any favors either.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “I can’t risk it, Kate,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I can’t lose him. Not even as a friend.”

Kate sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I get it,” she said softly. “But you’re also risking losing something amazing by staying quiet. You think he doesn’t already know? He’s probably just waiting for you to give him a sign.”

Your throat tightened, and you shook your head. “And what if he doesn’t feel the same? What if I tell him, and it ruins everything?”

Kate hesitated, her voice gentler now. “Then at least you’ll know. At least you won’t spend the rest of your life wondering what could’ve been.”

The weight of her words settled heavily in your chest, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. The others had gone quiet, their knowing smiles fading into something softer, more understanding.

Your thoughts swirled in a chaotic mess of doubt and longing. Could Neteyam ever love you back? Did he already? Or were you just fooling yourself, letting your heart get carried away with something that could never be?

And yet, as you stood there, staring at the horizon where he’d disappeared, a small, rebellious part of you dared to hope.

Because no matter how much you tried to deny it, you couldn’t stop loving him. You couldn’t stop wanting more than stolen glances and fleeting touches.

But could you ever be brave enough to tell him?

“I don’t know, Kate,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I can.”

Kate gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to decide right now,” she said. “But promise me you’ll at least think about it. Because I’ve seen the way you look at him, and trust me—he’s worth it.”

You nodded slowly, your gaze still fixed on the sky, though your heart was far from ready to face the truth. And yet, deep down, you knew Kate was right. It was only a matter of time before your feelings couldn’t be denied any longer.

*

The night air was crisp as Neteyam guided his ikran, Tawkami, through the skies. The twin moons cast a silvery glow over Pandora, illuminating the floating Hallelujah Mountains in the distance. The towering cliffs suspended in midair, connected by tendrils of glowing vines, looked almost unreal—a sight that never failed to stir awe, even in someone who had seen them countless times.

But tonight, Neteyam’s mind wasn’t focused on the beauty of his surroundings. His thoughts were firmly tethered to you.

He had barely thought before agreeing to your request. When you had looked at him, your wide eyes filled with that mix of nervousness and hope, the word "yes" had come out of his mouth before he could even consider the implications. And when you smiled—no, beamed—at him afterward, he felt like he’d been struck by lightning. Then there was the hug. Eywa, the hug. You had wrapped your arms around his neck, your tiny human frame pressing against him in a gesture so pure and joyful that it had completely unraveled him.

How could I have said no?

Tawkami let out a low trill, bringing him back to the present. Neteyam reached down, stroking the ikran’s neck reassuringly. “I know, girl. We’re almost there,” he murmured.

It’s for the research, he reminded himself, though the thought felt hollow. You had been careful to phrase it that way, to make it sound like this was about the team’s work and not about him doing something just for you. But Neteyam knew better. He had seen the nervous flicker in your gaze, the way your fingers twisted together as you waited for his answer. You didn’t want to burden him, but even if you had, he wouldn’t have cared. He would have done it anyway—because it was you.

*

When Lo’ak had found him preparing to leave the kelku at before midnight, his younger brother had been full of questions.

“Where are you going?” Lo’ak had asked, his tone teasing but curious. “Off to rescue the sky girl?”

Neteyam had ignored the jab, tightening the strap of his hunting knife around his waist. “I have something to do.”

Lo’ak had raised an eyebrow, leaning casually against the doorway. “Something? At midnight? Let me guess—it has to do with her.”

Neteyam had shot him a warning look, but it only made Lo’ak grin wider. “You don’t even deny it anymore,” Lo’ak had said, his voice low but amused. “You’ve got it bad, big bro. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

Neteyam hadn’t replied, turning to leave instead. But Lo’ak’s words had lingered, echoing in his mind as he mounted Tawkami and took off into the night.

*

Now, as he approached the cliffs where the rare flower bloomed, his thoughts shifted back to the moment you hugged him. He hadn’t been prepared for it—the way you threw your arms around his neck, your smaller frame pressing against his as if he were the only safe place in the world. The warmth of your touch had spread through him like wildfire, leaving him rooted in place, unsure how to respond.

His arms had hovered awkwardly at first, his mind racing with questions. Should he hug you back? Would it be inappropriate? Would you think he was taking advantage? But then you’d squeezed him tighter, your joy spilling out in a way that felt so unguarded, so pure. It had undone him. Without thinking, his arms had wrapped around you, pulling you closer, his chest tightening with something he couldn’t name.

It had been... overwhelming. A rush of emotions he wasn’t prepared for. He could still feel the faint press of your fingers against his neck, the soft weight of your body leaning into his. The memory sent a flicker of warmth through him, one that he quickly tried to suppress.

The flight to the Hallelujah Mountains was long but uneventful, the familiar terrain passing beneath him like a living map. As he approached the floating peaks, his ikran let out a soft, eager chirp, its connection to him through tsaheylu buzzing faintly in his mind. Neteyam reached out, running a hand along the creature’s neck in silent reassurance.

The Hallelujah Mountains were breathtaking, even to him. He had flown through these peaks countless times, yet their beauty never failed to strike him. The floating islands were wreathed in mist, their sheer cliffs adorned with glowing plants that shimmered like stars in the moonlight. It was here, amidst this wonder, that the elusive ulo’ateya bloomed.

Neteyam’s gaze swept the landscape, searching for the faint glow of the flower you had described. Ulo’ateya, or Midnight Bloom you had called it, your voice soft with reverence as you explained its importance. It only bloomed at one night, its pale blue petals shimmering like liquid moonlight. It grew in the crevices of the cliffs, hidden from the sun’s harsh rays.

Finally, his sharp eyes caught a faint glow near the edge of a jagged rock formation. “There,” he murmured to Tawkami, guiding her toward the spot. She landed gracefully, her claws gripping the rocky surface with ease.

Neteyam dismounted, his movements fluid as he approached the glowing flower. It was smaller than he’d expected, its delicate petals unfurling like a star against the dark rock. He crouched low, his hands hovering over it as he tried to remember everything he had seen you do.

Neteyam had watched you work countless times over the past year, your focus unwavering as you handled your strange human tools. He had often wondered how you could be so meticulous, so patient, even when the forest around you hummed with life and distraction. Now, as he reached for the tools in the pack you had prepared for him, he realized just how foreign it all felt.

The sampling tray was awkwardly small in his hands, and the fine-tipped tool you’d included felt like it might snap under his grip. He frowned, his ears flicking back slightly as he tried to mimic the movements he had seen you perform. His large fingers struggled with the tiny instrument, and for a moment, frustration bubbled in his chest.

But then he thought of you—your careful instructions, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about the plants you studied. You had trusted him to do this. That thought steadied him, and he took a slow breath, adjusting his grip.

“Okay,” he muttered, carefully pulling out a pair of tweezers. They felt ridiculous in his hands, like trying to hold water with a net. But he adjusted his grip, focusing on the flower before him. He reached out, the tweezers clinking softly against the stem as he pinched it gently and clipped it free.

The flower was lighter than he expected, its glow pulsing faintly in the darkness. He placed it into one of the small containers, securing the lid with careful precision.

He repeated the process, moving from flower to flower, collecting samples with a focus he usually reserved for tracking prey. It was... strange, this work. It wasn’t like hunting or crafting, the skills he had mastered as a warrior. But it mattered to her.

How do you do this so easily? he wondered, his brow furrowing in concentration.

He gently clipped one of the flowers, placing it in the sample tray with as much care as he could manage. His hands felt too big, too rough for the task, but he pushed through, determined not to damage the fragile specimens. With each movement, he thought of you—how your hands moved so gracefully, how your focus was always unwavering. He had spent more time than he cared to admit watching you work, captivated by the way you seemed to lose yourself in the process.

Neteyam gathered several samples, ensuring they were secure before standing. He looked down at the glowing flowers for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips. He had done it. It wasn’t perfect—he knew you would have done it better—but it would be enough.

*

The cool grass beneath you was damp with dew, but you hardly noticed. The blanket draped around your shoulders was meant to ward off the chill of the night, but it was more a comfort than a necessity. You sat cross-legged, gazing up at the vast expanse of the Pandoran sky, its twin moons casting soft light over the clearing. Stars blinked faintly, their light woven into the bioluminescent glow of the forest around you.

The outpost hummed faintly in the background, its lights a stark contrast to the natural beauty that surrounded it. But your attention was far from the familiar structure. You were waiting—for him. The team was already back in the outpost. You bet Norm and Max was already in the quarter, Brian in the rec room already sleeping and Kate is in the canteen trying to get a decent amount of coffee. Every passing minute stretched out, your thoughts tangled with equal parts excitement and worry.

He’ll be fine, you told yourself for what felt like the hundredth time. Neteyam knows the forest better than anyone. He’s careful, skilled. He promised he’d come back.

But the unease lingered. Your fingers toyed with the edge of the blanket, twisting it absently as your mind conjured scenarios you didn’t want to entertain. What if something happened? What if the forest’s dangers, no matter how familiar to him, caught him off guard? The thought made your chest tighten, and you exhaled slowly, trying to calm the storm of your thoughts.

The faint screech of wings snapped you out of your reverie, and your heart leapt as your eyes darted toward the sky. A shadow moved against the moons’ glow, growing larger as it descended. You rose to your feet instinctively, clutching the blanket around you, as Neteyam’s ikran came into view. Its sleek, powerful form glided effortlessly through the air, its patterns shimmering faintly in the dim light.

Relief flooded through you as they landed, the ikran’s claws gripping the earth with practiced ease. Neteyam dismounted in one fluid motion, his movements graceful even after what must have been an exhausting journey. The satchel holding the ulo’ateya samples hung securely at the ikran’s side, but it wasn’t the sight of the precious plant that made your chest swell with emotion—it was him. He was safe, unscathed, his golden eyes sharp and alert as they scanned the clearing before landing on you.

The blanket slipping slightly from your shoulders as you crossed the short distance to meet them. The ikran tilted its head, watching you with intelligent eyes, and let out a low, melodic chirp as you approached.

“You did such a good job,” you cooed softly, reaching out to stroke the ikran’s scaled neck. Its skin was cool and smooth under your fingers, and it leaned into your touch, letting out another pleased sound that made your heart swell. “Thank you for keeping him safe.”

Neteyam’s lips twitched into a faint grin as he watched the interaction, his tail swaying behind him.

“You’re back,” you breathed, a smile breaking across your face as you stepped closer.

Neteyam’s lips quirked into a small, tired smile. “I told you I would be.”

Your eyes flicked to the satchel, your heart lightening further. “You got the ulo’ateya,” you said, unable to hide the excitement in your voice. “That’s incredible.”

He nodded, glancing briefly at the bag. “It was difficult, but manageable.”

Relief and gratitude swirled within you, and you reached for the bag but hesitated, your gaze meeting his. “I don’t know how to thank you for this,” you said softly, your voice trembling with sincerity. “I can never repay you, but I’ll try.”

Neteyam tilted his head slightly, his ears flicking in a way you’d come to recognize as quiet amusement. “There is no debt between us,” he said simply, his tone gentle but firm.

You looked up at him, the weight of his words settling over you. There was a sincerity in his gaze that made your chest ache, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words to respond. The blanket slipped further down your shoulders as you stood there, caught in the warmth of his presence.

Neteyam’s expression shifted slightly, his ears twitching as he noticed your shivering. Without a word, he crouched down in front of you, his large frame folding with ease. His long fingers reached for the blanket, pulling it snugly around you with a tenderness that left you breathless.

“You shouldn’t be outside at night,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s cold.”

He reached for the blanket you’d let slip earlier, wrapping it around your shoulders with a care that made your heart ache. His hands lingered briefly, adjusting the fabric to ensure you were covered.

“There,” he said softly, his gaze meeting yours. “Better.”

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but the words caught in your throat as he reached for your hand. His large, warm fingers engulfed your smaller palm, his touch gentle as he held it between his own. Your breath hitched as he brushed his thumb over your knuckles, the motion slow and deliberate.

“You worry too much, tanhì,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The word—tanhì—sent a shiver through you. It was the first time he had called you anything in Na’vi other than your name, and the endearment hung in the air between you, warm and intimate. Your eyes widened, searching his face for any hint of what he meant, but all you found was a quiet tenderness that made your heart ache.

“Neteyam...” you began, your voice trembling slightly, but you didn’t know how to finish. The intensity of his gaze, the warmth of his hand holding yours, left you feeling exposed, as though he could see every thought, every feeling you’d tried so hard to hide.

He tilted his head, his thumb still tracing slow circles over your knuckles. “What is it?” he asked, his voice soft, almost coaxing.

You shook your head, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips. “Nothing,” you said, though your eyes betrayed you. They lingered on his, filled with a depth of emotion you couldn’t put into words.

His own gaze softened further, and for a moment, it felt as though the world around you had fallen away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet glow of Pandora’s night.

*

Neteyam guided Tawkami, through the cool night air, his sharp eyes scanning the clearing below as they neared the outpost. The twin moons bathed Pandora in silver light, illuminating the familiar structure nestled amidst the forest. The journey had been long, and his muscles ached from the tension of navigating the cliffs, but none of that mattered now. His focus, as it so often was these days, was on you.

The faint figure sitting near the edge of the clearing grew clearer as he descended, and his heart stirred at the sight of you. You were clutching a blanket around your shoulders, your face turned skyward, your eyes filled with anticipation. You were waiting for him.

His ikran landed gracefully, its claws digging into the earth with a practiced ease. Neteyam dismounted in one smooth motion, his movements quiet despite his fatigue. The satchel of ulo’ateya samples swung at Tawkami's side, a tangible reminder of the reason for this trip, but his thoughts were far from the delicate flowers he’d risked retrieving. His gaze fixed on you, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of his responsibilities, and the countless expectations placed upon him faded into the background. All he could see was you, your form glowing softly in the moonlight.

You crossed the short distance to meet him, the blanket slipping slightly from your shoulders. His ikran tilted its head, letting out a low, content chirp as you approached, and Neteyam’s lips curved into a faint grin. You cooed softly to the creature, your hand reaching out to stroke its scaled neck with such tenderness that it made something in Neteyam’s chest tighten.

“You did such a good job,” you murmured to Tawkami, your voice filled with genuine gratitude. “Thank you for keeping him safe.”

He watched as you soothed his ikran, your voice gentle and sincere. How was it that even his ikran, a creature that trusted only him, seemed to find comfort in your presence? Neteyam’s tail swayed unconsciously, a subtle sign of his own contentment as he took in the scene before him.

“You’re back,” you breathed, your voice carrying a smile that made his chest feel light, as if Eywa herself had blessed him in this moment.

“I told you I would be,” he replied softly, his voice steady despite the quiet storm inside him. His gaze flicked to the satchel at the side, and he nodded slightly. “It was difficult, but manageable.”

When your eyes lit up at the mention of the ulo’ateya, he felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the effort of his journey. You looked at him with such trust, such admiration, that it made the ache in his muscles vanish. How could he think of anything else—his place in the clan, his duties, his future—when you were standing before him, your sparkling eyes drawing him in like the light of the forest?

“I don’t know how to thank you for this,” you said, your voice trembling with sincerity. “I can never repay you, but I’ll try.”

Neteyam tilted his head slightly, his ears twitching as a small smile tugged at his lips. “There is no debt between us,” he said simply, his voice soft but firm. He meant it. You could ask him to climb every cliff in Pandora, to face every storm, and he would do so without hesitation. Not because of duty, not because of obligation, but because it was you. You trusted him enough to ask, and that trust was worth more to him than anything else.

As you looked up at him, the moonlight catching the faint glimmer in your eyes, he felt the familiar yearning settle deep in his chest. He wanted to tell you—to hold you and confess that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you. That he didn’t care about the expectations placed on him, the traditions that dictated his future. But he couldn’t. The words caught in his throat, weighed down by the impossibility of it all. Instead, he watched you, memorizing every detail—the curve of your lips, the way the blanket framed your figure, the quiet strength in your gaze.

When he noticed the blanket slipping from your shoulders, he frowned slightly. The nights on Pandora could be cold, and though he knew you were stronger than you looked, he couldn’t stand the thought of you being uncomfortable. Without thinking, he crouched down in front of you, his large hands reaching for the fabric.

“You shouldn’t be outside at night,” he said, his tone gentle but with a hint of reprimand. “It’s cold.”

As he wrapped the blanket around you, his fingers brushed against your shoulders, and he lingered for a moment longer than necessary, adjusting the fabric to ensure you were fully covered. The softness of your skin beneath his touch sent a quiet thrill through him, but he forced himself to focus on the task, to keep his movements steady.

“There,” he said softly, his gaze meeting yours. “Better.”

You looked at him then, your eyes wide and filled with something he couldn’t quite name. Vulnerability, perhaps, or maybe gratitude. Whatever it was, it made him want to pull you closer, to shield you from every danger this world had to offer. But he held himself back, his hands retreating as he straightened.

Then, almost without realizing it, he reached for your hand. Your smaller palm fit so perfectly in his, and the warmth of your skin against his sent his heart racing. His thumb brushed over your knuckles in slow, deliberate circles, a motion he wasn’t sure was for your comfort or his own.

“You worry too much, tanhì,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

The word—tanhì—slipped out before he could stop it, and for a moment, he froze. It was a word he’d never used before, not for anyone. It meant "star" in Na’vi, a term of endearment reserved for someone who brought light into one’s life. And that’s what you were to him—his tanhì, his guiding star.

Your eyes widened, and he saw the question in them, the unspoken uncertainty. Did you know what it meant? Did you understand how much weight that single word carried?

“Neteyam...” you began, your voice trembling slightly, but you didn’t finish. Instead, you looked at him, your gaze filled with something so raw, so vulnerable, that it nearly undid him.

“What is it?” he asked, his thumb still tracing soft circles over your knuckles. He wanted to coax the words from you, to hear whatever was on your mind. But more than that, he wanted to hold this moment, to stretch it into forever.

You shook your head, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips. “Nothing,” you said softly, though your eyes betrayed you. They lingered on his, filled with an emotion he dared not name but couldn’t ignore.

For a moment, the world around them fell away. The hum of the outpost, the distant sounds of the forest—everything faded, leaving only the two of them standing together under the twin moons. Neteyam couldn’t think of his responsibilities, his place in the clan, or the expectations that weighed on him. Not when you were here, looking at him like he was something more than just a warrior or a leader.

Not when you were looking at him like he was everything.

Part 13: To kiss (Soon)

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Jason Todd Week Special! Day 3: Monster

A/N: this unofficial mini-chapter is part of the event being run by @jasontoddweek2025 and can be enjoyed without reading the rest of the story

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, no use of Y/N, let me know if I missed anything worth tagging! Also, this scene is definitely based on that scene in WFA, so credit to them for the inspiration!

warnings/labels: hurt/comfort, use of pet names

wc: 900

CIGYN? Chapter Selection

“Monster!” The little girl screamed, cowering under her bed. The Red Hood grimaced under his mask, trying to reach her. They didn't have time for this, it was time to go.

“No monsters here kid, promise. Come on, we gotta get out of here! … Please, let me just …” He could almost reach her, if he could just get ahold of her wrist…

She squealed, kicking desperately. “Nooo! Lemme go!”

“Hood, three minutes.” Oracle's voice in his ear warned.

“Kiddo, we gotta get out of here, please…” He got ahold of her ankle and began gently pulling her toward him.

She shrieked, sobbing and kicking at his face.

“Ah! Hey, come on … oh, … is it the helmet you're scared of?” He sighed, releasing her, and she scurried back against the wall.

He quickly snapped the helmet off, crouching down so she could see his face. “Look, no helmet. See? I'm just a guy. I just want to help you.”

She sniffled, slowly looking back at him. She didn't look less scared, her eyes landed on his scarred cheek and stayed there, but she did let him fish her out from under the bed. He held her in his arms, smiling gently. “Alright, let's go find your mama, yeah?”

He ran out the door, the girl clinging to his leather jacket. The stairs down were engulfed in fire, so he ran up to the roof. He popped his helmet back on, ignoring the girl's whimpers, and shot a grappling hook at the neighboring building. “Hold tight, kid.”

She clung to him, screaming in terror as they descended. He landed hard on his knees, thrown off balance by her squirming, but she was uninjured. A woman ran over, pulling the girl out of his arms. 

“Emmy! Oh god, honey are you ok?” She glanced at Red Hood, backing away as she pulled her crying daughter closer to her chest.

“Mommy! Mommy, the monster-” Hood stopped listening. He carefully got up, cracking his aching joints, and backed away. He vaguely heard Nightwing over the comms, but he wasn't going to respond. He couldn't. He needed to go. Now.

Hood made his way over to his bike. It roared to life and in an instant he was gone. He drove fast, letting the wind wash over him, as if it could drag away the words playing over in his mind. A dozen voices, all saying the same thing; monster. He was a monster. It didn't bother him when the thugs selling at the high schools said it. It was usually the last thing they could say. It didn't bother him when Bruce admonished him to not act like a monster, B was just worried. B couldn't fathom how Jason could come back from some of his actions, he could only call them monstrous. 

It didn't even bother him when the villain of the week tried to claim he was more like them than his family. Most of them just liked playing mind games, they would say anything to get under his skin. No, all that was fine. But when civilians saw him in the mask, and all they saw was a monster … that stung. Red Hood was harsh, and aggressive, and violent, but he wasn't directionless. It wasn't random, uncontrolled violence. He chose his targets carefully, and he did it for them. To defend the defenseless. He wasn't a monster, he wasn't!

Beep! The Bluetooth in his helmet chirped at him, and then her voice poured through; “Jay? Oracle said you ran off. You ok?”

He sighed softly. Just the sound of her voice had the tension starting to ease out of his muscles. “Hey Doll … I'm ok … just wasn't anything else I could do …”

“... Ok. You comin' home?” She sounded a bit incredulous.

“... Soon. Gotta drive a bit…”

“... Wanna meet up? I could use the practice on my bike.”

“No, you shouldn't be seen driving with … one of us. I'll be home soon.”

“Ok baby. Love you.”

He sighed softly. “Love you more…”

The call ended, and he continued driving, just doing circles around her neighborhood at this point. After a while he parked at a safehouse, got changed, and used the tunnels underneath to get to a second safehouse. Jason's personal bike was parked out front, and he drove to her place.

She greeted him at the door, a bright smile on her face. When her hands clasped around his, he felt the last of the tension slip away, leaving him putty in her hands. She guided him to the dining room and into a chair. She set a plate in front of him, a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup, and stood behind him. He ate slowly, and her hands lovingly ran through his hair and began massaging his neck and shoulders.

A soft groan escaped his lips as she worked, and slowly he started to feel human again. “... How do you do that?”

“Do what, my love?” She kissed the top of his head.

“... All the bad shit just … melts away, when you're with me.”

She smiled softly, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his jaw. “That’s ‘cause I got you, and you got me. Right, pretty boy?~”

He chuckled softly, looking up at her in wonder; “... Right. I got you, and you got me, ma.”

Jason Todd Week Taglist: @cottage-worm

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Fanart in the header by: @crowkip

[wwooyology]

You're Mine Baby | K.YS

「pairing」 : ex bf!yeosang x fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.2k

「synopsis」 : you and yeosang had been broken up for at least a year now, but when you come back to town and saw him with another girl it sets you off. he was only supposed to be yours and this time you were going to make sure that he understood that.

「genre」 : psychological horror/thriller, angst, dark romance, slight gore

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, DARK THEMES!!!, cussing, tiny bit of kissing, stalking, reader has SEVERE mental illnesses (she's just straight psychotic), gore, blood, murder, stabbing, use of a weapon (knife), name-calling (skank...), manipulation, threats, hitting/slapping, blackmail(?), reader is in love obsessed with yeosang, mentions of a therapist/mental hospital, EXTREME violence, petnames (my love, baby…), yelling/shouting, fighting, anger issues, gaslighting, reader lowkey gives off 'if I can't have you no one can' vibes, kidnapping, implied use of drugs/sedative, possessiveness, lmk if I missed anything bc I feel like I did…

「now playing」 : kill bill by sza

「notes」 : this is some dark shit so I HEAVILY advice you to carefully look over ALL of the warnings before you proceed with reading!! also if this isn't your type of thing that is perfectly fine, but please keep your unnecessary comments to yourself, thank you.

It was late afternoon when you found yourself sitting outside a cafe, an iced coffee sitting on the table in front of you as you stirred the ice around with your straw. However, your eyes were focused on the couple laughing away with each other on the other side of the window. Your eyes narrow as you watch the girl lean onto the male, anger coursing through your veins. That was supposed to be you, not some worthless skank.

How long has it been since you last saw Yeosang? Oh, right…it has been two years, six months, two weeks, and four days since you were coldly ripped from his arms. You could even recall the seconds, hours, and minutes as well. 

You had hoped that whenever you were released that you would get the chance to reconcile with your ex-boyfriend. Yet as you learned of his new girlfriend the more that bitter taste in your mouth grew. So much so that you wanted nothing more than to get her out of the picture.

The straw in your hand made a pathetic sound as your fingers tightened around it, absolutely destroying the poor thing as you watched Yeosang lean over the girl and capture her lips in a kiss. Rage started to cloud your vision and you stood from your seat, the chair scraping the ground roughly.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” The sound of the worker's voice drew you out of your intense haze, and you looked over at her with doe eyes. Seeing her glance down at your hand, you noticed that with the force of your abrupt standing, it caused some of your coffee to slosh around before splashing onto the surface of the table.

Swallowing thickly, you recalled your therapist's words, ‘Remember, y/n, don’t let your anger consume you. It will only cause you more trouble, and I would hate to see you back in here again.’

Letting out a shaky breath, you apologized to the girl before using a few napkins to clean up your mess. Whenever you were finished, you looked back over your shoulder only to find Yeosang and that wretched girl was gone. Grumbling lowly, you threw the soaked napkins away before grabbing your drink and storming off down the sidewalk.

“Of course, they just had to leave when I wasn’t looking. No worries though, I can find them.” You assured yourself as you took a sip of your slightly watered-down coffee from the new straw the worker had offered you.

That’s exactly what you did. You found them later that night at a movie theater. Then it was the food stall that was just right down the road from the school you and Yeosang had attended years ago before finally Yeosang took her home. You watched from across the road, hiding just beyond the shadows of two houses.

Disgust settled deep in your gut as you saw Yeosang pull her into a deep kiss, his hand against her lower back to pull her closer. Rage once again started to bubble in your gut the longer you watched until he finally pulled away, wishing her one last goodnight before walking off.

Eventually, this led to you following Yeosang around, no matter where he went or what time it was. You were there. You wanted to speak with him, tell him to leave that thing he calls a girlfriend so he could be with you once more, but you knew you couldn’t. He would run the moment he saw you.

 So you needed a plan… A plan that would surely make him yours once again.

Then, one day, while you were walking a good distance behind them, you started to recognize the familiar path that they were taking. You hoped that he wasn’t taking her to the spot that he once showed you and promised to never bring anyone else. Yet when he rounded the corner to an all too familiar alleyway, you just knew.

You stopped dead in your tracks, fingers curling into fists at your sides as rage boiled over, flooding every single part of your body until you saw nothing but crimson red. Then you knew… knew it was time to put your plan into action.

It was such a simple plan, really, and your poor, sweet ex-boyfriend was just as clueless as always. He didn’t even bat an eye whenever he received a gift of an all-paid vacation rental from his ‘friend.’ You watched from afar like you’ve done for the past two months, watching as he happily packed all his bags with his happy-go-lucky girlfriend. The sight made you sick, really; how could he be so happy with something like that? Only you truly knew what he deserved, and that was you, of course.

After the lights turned off in his girlfriend's apartment, you made your trek back to your car. All you had to do now was wait for that perfect moment to strike, then he’d be yours again.

—

Yeosang awoke with a groan. The back of his head was throbbing. However, upon trying to reach for his head, he noticed that he couldn’t move his hands. His eyes flew open as he pulled at his restraints after noticing that he was tied to a chair.

‘What’s going on?’ Was all he could think as he tried his best to recall what had previously happened. He and Yoonmin were sitting in the living room, watching a movie, when suddenly the lights went out. He couldn’t remember much of what happened next, it was far too dark, but he did remember feeling an excruciating pain in the back of his head before everything went black.

His eyes then wandered around the room until they fell on the unconscious girl who sat tied to a chair just a few feet in front of him. Panicked, he thrashes around in his seat, but the knots in the rope are far too strong and way too tight for him to break free of. Not only that, but his limbs all felt like jelly, and his muscles were not working the way they were supposed to.

Hearing noises from the other room you sat down the mug of warm tea that sat in your hands, a borderline psychotic smile spreading across your face. Walking into the next room over your steps, light but happy, this is what you’ve been waiting for after all.

“Well, lookie who decided to finally wake up.” You greeted the male happily, making slow strides into the room.

Yeosang’s head snapped in your direction, his eyes blown wide and pupils dilating in anger and fear. Seeing you again was as if he had woken up in his own personal hell, one that he knew he wouldn’t escape from, but he would be damned if he didn’t try. 

“Y/n, what the hell is wrong with you? Let us go!” He shouted, arms still roughly pulling at his restraints. Hearing words caused you to stop dead in your tracks, your smile completely wiped off of your face. 

He should be happy to see you, not angry. Not with so much hatred in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense, but then you heard a small groan from the other side of the room. Your eyes narrowed into slits as you looked over at the girl. She must have brainwashed him. That had to be it. There would be no other reason Yeosang would even dare to look at you with such contempt.

The clicking sound of your tongue breaks the deathly silent room, the floorboards creaking with each step you take toward the girl. Once she was fully conscious and saw you walking towards her, she started thrashing around in her chair, trying to escape, but to no avail. Yeosang shouts and pleas for you to stop filled the room as you roughly grabbed the girl’s hair, yanking her head back.

“Why are you doing this to us? We did nothing wrong!” The girl weeps as she looks up at you, silent pleas filling her eyes, but you can’t help but scoff at her words. 

With a scowl, you yanked her head back until she was looking up at you fully. “Nothing wrong? Nothing. Wrong?” A crazed laugh fell from your lips as if she had said the funniest thing in the world. After a few short moments, your laughter stopped, and your face fell stoic. 

Yeosang watched in fear and disbelief as you leaned into the girl's face until you were merely inches away. 

“You’re anything but innocent.” The words came out in a growl, your grip on her hair tightening causing her to cry out, more tears streaming down her face. Your wide eyes then studied the girl's face, taking in every little detail that you could possibly find. However, the longer you looked, the more aggravated you became.

What in the world could possibly be so good about her? 

Yeosang’s breath hitched, and his yelling stopped as you turned your head to look back at him. A violent chill ran down his spine at the crazed gleam in your eyes. He knew this look all too well after spending years with you, the very look that meant disaster would strike if nothing was done to stop it.

The corner of your lips twitched as you maneuvered yourself next to the crying girl before yanking her head up so she was looking at Yeosang. “Tell me Yeo… What's so good about her? Huh?” Your voice gradually grew in volume, “What does she have that I don’t?” Yeosang shouted at you to stop once more as you pulled on the girl's hair eliciting a pained cry from her lips. “What the fuck makes her so much better than me?”

You couldn’t possibly understand. He had promised you that he would wait until you were released so you could be together again. ‘Why did he go back on his word? Why would he lie to you like that? Why? Why? WHY?’  Thoughts started to cloud your mind, and your sanity slowly started to drift away as you teetered on the edge of the deep. 

Yeosang opened his mouth to speak, hoping to calm the situation like he had so many times in the past, but before he could even utter a word, his poor little girlfriend beat him to it.

“Because I’m not a fucking lunatic like you!” She shouted, spitting in your face and causing your whole body to freeze. At those words, that last little push was given, and something inside of you snapped, a small laugh leaving your lips.

Noticing that something wasn’t right, Yeosang pulled against his restraints, “Wait, wait, y/n! She didn’t mean it!” He tried to reason with you as you slowly stood straight, your hold on her hair slipping until your hand dropped back down to your side.

“Of course, I meant it, Yeosang. Do you not see her?!” She shouted at the male, who pleaded with her to stop talking, but she, of course, didn’t get the hint. “I don’t know why she was let out. I mean, look at her, she’s a total fucking nutjo–”

Before she could even finish her sentence, your hand collided with the side of her face, damn near knocking the chair over. A shrill cry of pain left the girl's lips as you slapped her once again, sobs raking her body. Yeosang screamed and thrashed in his restraints, begging you to stop, but you just glared at him.

“Pulling on those restraints is pointless. You can’t get out.” Your eyes were wide as a smile spread across your face, an idea coming to mind. Walking away from the sobbing girl, you make your way over to the table with a slight skip in your step.

“Yoonmin, look at me. We’re gonna be okay, I promise.” Yeosang tried to comfort the girl, who nodded, her hair a mess as she looked over at him. His words pulled a laugh from your lungs as your fingers wrapped around the hilt of a large kitchen knife.

“Oh, Sangie, you should know better than to give empty promises.” You pouted, dragging the blade off the table, allowing the sharp scraping sounds to echo around the room. Yeosang looked over at you with a glare until he saw the knife in your hand, his whole body going rigid. “There’s no one coming to save you. You are on vacation, after all.” A small chuckle fell from your lips as you neared Yoonmin, her whole body trembling as she shook her head profusely, “No one is going to find you… At least not for a while.” You covered your mouth as a borderline psychotic laugh racked your body.

You rounded the girl's seat, pointing the blade dangerously close to her face until you stood behind her. Then, in the blink of an eye, your hand was tangled in her hair once again, yanking her head back until her throat was fully exposed. Yeosang’s eyes widened as he lurched forward, begging you to stop and put the blade down as he tried once again to get out of his restraints, but just like all of the times before, he failed. However, as soon as the blade's sharp edge made contact with her skin, you stopped, a sinister smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Y/n, please.” Yeosang cried out, tears of his own blurring his vision. He knew that one wrong move could easily end Yoonmin’s life, and he also knew that he had very limited time to act. “You’re here for me, right? Let her go, and I promise I’ll go with you. Just let her go, y/n, please.” 

Your eyes narrowed into a glare as you pressed the blade further against the girl's neck, choked sobs racked her body as she tried to shy away from it. However, your grip was far too strong for her to go against.

“Oh my love,” You tilted your head, expression changing to one of pity as you looked at him, “we both know I can’t do that. You see, as long as this skank is alive, you’ll never fully be mine, and we can’t have that.” Your words alone were enough to send a chill down the male’s spine, but he wasn’t going to give up as he continued to try and negotiate with you, but it proved fruitless. “Can’t you understand it, Yeosang? I’m the only one you need. I’m the only one who loves you, who is truly right for you. Not some watered-down rat you found on the street.” You growl, pressing the blade just far enough to break the first layer of skin; bright crimson-red blood seeped out, running down her heaving chest. 

Growing even more aggravated, you told Yeosang to just say goodbye before starting to drag the blade across the girl’s skin.

“No, no, please y/n! NO!” Yeosang shouted, but it was useless; with precise movements, you had sliced the girl’s neck wide open. Blood sprayed out of the gaping wound as she struggled to intake any air. Your hand became covered in the thick liquid as you laughed maniacally.

Yeosang could only sit there in shock, tears streaming down his pale face as he watched the life drain from his girlfriend's body until she fell limp in her chair. “H-How could you?” He choked out, looking up at you as you wiped your face with your forearm but only managed to smear more blood. “Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?!” Sobs fell from his lips as he shouted at you, but you could only shake your head.

You slowly walked over to him, your hands behind your back as you playfully swung the knife around. “One day, you’ll understand Sangie, but she had to die. That’s the only way you would be mine and mine alone. I didn’t want to kill her, but that was the best way to do it.” You pouted as you finally reached him, bending at the waist to look at him.

“This is wrong, y/n.” Yeosang’s voice shook as he stared at you in nothing but unadulterated fear. He knew that you would never physically hurt him, but you definitely had your way around it. 

A pained expression fell upon your features as you reached out to him, cupping his cheek in your hand despite him trying to back away. “I just love you so much, Sangie, I can’t stand seeing you with other people. It just hurts me so much, and I’d rather die than be without you.”

“That’s not love, it’s an obsession.”

“Oh, but Sangie, you know deep down that you belong with me. Even your sweet mother knows that.” You spoke softly as your fingers tightened around his chin, “I would absolutely hate to see something happen to that poor woman.” 

Yeosang felt his blood run cold at the mention of his mother, eyes growing wide as you pulled your phone out of your pocket. After a few taps, you turn the device around to show Yeosang the screen. Even though the smeared blood on the screen, he could very clearly tell that it was his mother, humming to herself in the kitchen while she cooked dinner.

Fear sunk its claws even deeper into his bones as he took in the unsettling smile that was on your lips. He was trapped.

“Now… are you going to be a good boy and listen to me? I’m only doing this for your own good, baby; I hope you understand that.” Your voice was sickeningly sweet as you cooed at him, your phone placed back into your pocket.

Yeosang knew that he didn’t have any other choice but to agree with you. It was the only way he could guarantee the safety of those around him. His pain-filled eyes flickered back over to the dark-haired girl's lifeless form before shifting his gaze back up to you.

“I’ll go with you, but you have to promise that you won’t hurt anyone else.” He begged, tears still spilling down his face, now mixing with the blood on his chin from your stained hand.

Shaking your head with a click of your tongue you brought the blade up to your face, waving it from side to side, eyes trained on the crimson cover metal. Then your eyes moved back over to meet Yeosang’s.

“That will all depend on if you can behave, my love. Be good, and no one else will get hurt.” Your tone was kind, but there were undertones that indicated that your words were anything but a bluff.

His heart pounded in his chest as he swallowed thickly, “I’ll behave, I promise.” He told you reluctantly, and he felt goosebumps litter his skin when a bright smile spread across your face.

Reaching forward, you cupped his face once more before leaning forward to place a kiss on his forehead. “We’re gonna be the happiest couple in the world, Sangie, I love you so much!”

It was then that it finally set in that he was trapped with nowhere else to run. His most terrifying nightmare had actually come true, but unlike those wicked dreams, he couldn’t wake up from this one.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[professorlegaspi]

The Ramregrael being a cup with the word grail in it… the religion is undertoning

[hausofanya]

i have to ask because ive seen the name spelled with and without the accent- is it cléo or cleo?

it’s cléo! and omg okay i actually had a written thing for this back when i was first setting my girl up but it’s lost in the void now…….. so her maternal grandmother grew up in france and was named anya right. huge huge pianist during her time. and it’s bc of her grandmother that cléo’s mom kemi grew up to be a child of the industry herself (MORE ON THAT LATER!) but kemi wanted to honor anya with her own daughter + just really liked the name cleo (which means to ‘make famous’ btw…) so: cléo anya! the accent is just there for decoration tbh i think it just makes it look prettier LMFAOOO

[tonycries]

She's My Vitals!

Synopsis. The best part about a séx ban? When they’re broken!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, séx bans, bondagé, PÚSSYDRUNK BOYS, creampíes, CÚMPLAY, spítting, true form! Sukuna, dp, pússy-slappíng, chokíng Nanami, BRÉEDING, markíng, making him whíne, talking to her, jealous Nanami, fínger-súcking, NÉEDY boys, “just the típ”, heinous things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. LAST LEAK DAY HOW ARE WE FEELING BBYGIRLS??

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 1 week…almost

“Oh god…” he’s rasping out, skimming a thick thumb over where your flimsy panties were the most translucent. Just the sticky sheen of saturated slick makes him salivate, neglected cock throbbing with how much he’s missed you. “Y’really got me begging, huh, naughty girl?”

Now, Toji Fushiguro doesn’t ask for attention - either you come to him with that cute pout of yours, begging him to fuck you full of his long, solid inches or you don’t. Toji Fushiguro doesn’t grovel - he’s never just barely lasted only a measly week since being punished with a sex ban. Banging at your door soon after, strong arms just wrangling his pretty girl to the ground right then and there. 

But here he was. 

“S-so eager.” you’re humming, the hardwood floors of your hallway chafes lightly underneath your arched back. Your nails dig into his muscled shoulders, holding back a giggle at the way he’s already so gone. Eyes droopy, abs flexing, panting. “Affected so much by-”

“-just a week?” Two rough hands knead at your ass, dragging your body forwards to grind his angry cock in a sultry push. “A week of hell, you mean.”

There’s a soft smack! gifted right onto your puffed-up clit, and Toji has the audacity to laugh - laugh, all low and humorless when your needy cunt gushes out in another way of your syrupy sweet juices. 

“Though…” he circles his thick, reddish head over your quivering entrance, gliding over the glistening mess you’ve made. Coating around your puffy teasingly with every ribbon of his thick precum, “-seems like I wasn’t the- hah- only one all desperate n’ shit for you.” That sinful scar positioned on his lips grazes jaggedly against yours in a lazy kiss, “Missed me, woman?”

You’re rolling your eyes, “Real rich coming from-” And Toji can’t do anything but watch when your hand dips down between your two pressed-up bodies to wrap around his fat hilt. He throws his head back, swearing when you just slot his leaky tip between your swollen folds. Sensitive and so swelteringly hot. “-the same man that almost broke down my door at two in the m-morning because he missed me too much, Toji.”

Fuck- fuck, Toji doesn’t think he even heard whatever just came out of your mouth. No, he was way too busy trying not to fucking pass out. Humping you pathetically as if in heat now, gulping at the dripping wet squelches from down below. Shit, his favorite song.

“Say it.” You’re feeling two of his thick palms come up to rest atop your head, lacing those thick fingers of his slowly. “Say my name again.”

It was almost endearing how tough he still tried to sound. Acting like his body wasn’t wracking with a jolting shudder every time you’re grinding your hips up in steady gyrations against his rock-hard cock. 

“Say what now?” you purr, silky sweet. Peppering a lingering kiss against his forehead, his scar, only to have him bite down on your lower lip in warning. “Toji? The same Toji that was so mean to me - ignoring me for some stupid mission? The same big, bad Toji Fushiguro who took less than a week to crack-”

“M’sorry!” And usually you’d love to tease Toji more for the way he was cutting you off so much, but he just sounded like he was in utter wreck. Lips wobbling, a baritone ah! ah! ah! leaving with each sopping glissade of your cunt across his twitchy shaft. “There! I said it. Won’t- won’t miss another one of our hngh! d-dates for a job, m’kay? Fuck this sex ban- I’ll even answer your cute calls in the middle of finishing off a target if I have to just please-”

Ah, there it was.

The heady hallway - fuck, you two hadn’t even made it to the bed, yet - rings out with the soft thwack! of Toji’s heavy, cum-filled balls against your ass. Only increasing in volume with each greedier and greedier little half-thrust into your snug cunt. 

“Ngh! Toji- Toji f-fuck.” you’re keening at the feeling of all the air in your lungs being thoroughly pushed out. “Y-you’re lucky you’re so convincing-”

And he feels so hot, dizzy head being flung back at the heavenly suck of your pussy swallowing him up. Being stretched so gapingly open, it’s like his girth is contorting your velvety walls to his very shape. Stretching you out so much, massaging your sweet spots without even trying, reaching for your very womb-

“Ha-ahh- so tight- fuck- no wonder I almost broke yer damn door down.” he’s breathing out. The words finally registering, “Is it me that’s convincing or is it-” His biceps bulge with effort, rippling as the vice-like restraint above you is pushing you down, down, down to his hold. “-is it this?” 

You can’t even form an answer if you wanted to - because Toji was hunching over his hulking body to bully his fat cock into you in thorough, jagged ruts of his hips. Keeping you stuck in his vice-like hold, fully in the face of all his pressurized thrusts.

“What? Cat got yer- ngh tongue?” Toji smiles, smugly. Obscenely. “I missed your p-pretty voice just as much as this cunt, y’know? Why don’t ya use those words f’me, doll?”

Your entire body just jerks upwards when one of his soft palms plant back down on your clit, giving another simpering smack!

“Yes!” you’re spitting, and there’s such a supple satisfaction in Toji’s movements now. “M-missed this- missed you so much…”

“Tha’s fuckin’ right. Never gonna let ya forget it.” He’s grunting throatily at your answer, the soft, rounded pads of his fingers swirl over your stinging clit, eager to give another playful slap. He stills - and you whine, grinding down pleadingly. Exactly how he wanted it. “So why dontcha fuck back into me n’ show me, you lil’ tease?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 17 days

There’s a slow, syrupy puddle growing on your inner thighs - not between them, no, on top of them. Glossing down your skin in a milky ooze, Nanami’s red, achy cock right in the center of it all. Rubbing and grinding rawly between your thighs, he’s rutting forward like he’s out of control-

“M-my love.” Even those words sound so wrecked, Nanami’s soft baritone cracking, a few octaves higher than usual. “Are you- hah- doing okay?”

Your kiss-bitten pout makes his thick length jolt in interest, surging forwards to kiss them. “I am, Ken. Which is why I r-really want you to break the-”

“No!” he’s gasping, and there’s another harsh glissade of his glisteningly wet cock just across your puffed-up folds. Two firm hands hold your squirming hips still while he fucks your thighs even sloppier. Drowsy, almost. “No no no- we can’t. Don’t wanna overwork my gorgeous wife, sh-she’s already had such a long month at work, no?”

You shake your head stubbornly, pulling on the loosened end of his favorite speckled yellow tie to just drag Nanami even closer. “M’not-”

“But- the project-”

“Told you m’not overworked, okay, Ken?” Within only a few moments, you’ve got your trembly legs hooked around muscled hips, feeling his dick reach every single one of your hidden sweet spots and crannies with just the single inch he’s sinking in. Accidentally - but oh, an accident never felt so good. “Besides…e-even with this annoying new project, the month’s been even hah- longer because of this sex ban. I really, really miss you inside me–”

“Oh…better not have told me that.” He breathes into the crook of your neck, hiding away that rosy blush high on his cheeks. And before you can comfort your dear husband - or maybe make him even more flustered - he’s giving one, solid thrust into the depths of your awaiting cunt. Slowly. “After- after so long. Fuuuck- you shouldn’t have told me that.”

Giving a steady roll of his hips until you were just gasping at the sheer thickness. Nanami’s long girth leaving you spotless, swiveling his fat head easily against your g-spot.

“F-fuck-” he’s still muttering to himself, jaw clenched tight with all the strain of not devouring you whole after so long-

“So do it.” 

Your words make him still in his unforgiving pace, cocking a head in confusion. The sight of him - all disheveled and blushing an innocent red, eyes drooped in pussydrunk pleasure, mouth parted sweetly - has you giggling. “Seriously- aww, Ken, you didn’t even realize you were talking out loud?” Your palms smooth their way over his blue button-up, too impatient to have stripped out of it. “Do it. Dontcha think the best ngh! de-stressor during a long work project would be this-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence - and you didn’t have to. Because Nanami is doing exactly that. 

“You’re not good f’me-” he draws a greedy thumb over your clit in tight, methodical circles. Pressing sweet peck after peck on your sagging open lips, “You have- no idea- how I- hah- was holdin’ back all this time.”

Each squelching thrust has the pool of cum and your saturated slick expanding ever-wider. Drenching into the once-fresh sheets, your skin, forming a creamy ring around his heft base. It stands out so starkly against the neat patch of blond and his red, red shaft.

“Seein’ you walking around the office in those godforsaken short skirts.” he growls, sharp gaze honing in on the mess of fabric in tatters on the floor. “Havin’ those interns making eyes at you- Meanwhile I couldn’t even fuck my cute wife.” All those frustrations he’s channeling into his hips, fucking you deeper and deeper into the bed, you swear in the morning you’d be able to see the markings of his tight balls against your ass, his v-line against your thighs. “All because of some shitty project I couldn’t give less of a shit about.”

“S’almost- hah-” you’re hiccuping when his thumb strokes even harder, matching his lewd pace. “-s’almost over anyway. And I al-already filed the-”

“My love…” Nanami gently cuts in, just quelling your worried excuses with another jittering ram of his hips. Pressing expertly into where he already knew would make you squeal. “-this cockblocking project is the last thing I wan’ hear about right now-” He’s sucking gently on your lips in a sloppy kiss - his favorite type - “-I’d much prefer to finally hear you cum-”

And this was so unlike your dear husband. 

He was never this rough when throwing your legs over his broad shoulders, not giving you anything but a second to adjust before bending down, down, down to fold you into the meanest mating press possible. Never this hoarse with his words, wrenching out of his shot throat with each bludgeoning push into your cunt. Just ravaging you from the inside out. 

Soon enough, it gets too much.

And Nanami’s pants turn into heaves, his pressurized cadence turn into nothing more than languid, sloppy ruts back and forth back and forth back and-

“K-Ken-” Your fingers find their way to his tie again - pulling so hard that it makes him lightheaded. So tight it cuts a red indent into his golden skin. “M’so close-”

You’d heard about the type of orgasms so sudden that you don’t even realize you’re having them. Because no sooner are the words out of your mouth that you’re cumming. So hard, so aggressive, even that Nanami has to bite back his own groans. 

Head falling backwards at how almost-difficult it was to drive into your snug cunt now, velvety walls constricting with pleasure. Milking him so fucking good- “Yeah- yeah fuck, choke me. Choke me while you cum, darling.”

In a split-second, the pads of Nanami’s fingers on your clit shove themselves between your lips. The honeyed cum and slick pooled thickly in a candied coat that makes you throb. 

“That s’for not hngh! telling me sooner about the project almost being done. And this-” It’s followed by a gentle peck to your forehead, and an absolutely not gentle twitch of his weepy cock inside you. His fingers tighten inside your mouth, yours tighten around his tie, “-is for all the overtime m’gonna hafta make up for.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 8 days

It’s been too long - way too long. A week- fuck, maybe more? 

Geto doesn’t know, can’t even think right now with the way each and every slow, smooth glissade of your puffed-up pussy down his long shaft have him losing his mind let alone his train of thought. Gritting his teeth, he tugs even tighter around the cool leather restrain pinning him down to the plush bed, “Th-this has already gone on for a week- hngh- don’t you think that’s enough teasing, gorgeous?”

Fuck him and his stubborn streak.

“Over a week of you giving me the cold shoulder, Sugu?” Oh your saccharine sweet hum is enough for the curve of his cock to twitch up. Bumping lewdly against your clit, “I think m’being more than generous.”

Your leader’s dark brows knit even deeper in frustration, the need bleeding into those heaving shudders of his. “Aww, c-come on—” And if you didn’t know any better you’d have said that Geto Suguru was whining - whining. The headboard rattles loudly when he pulls, “Y’know I didn’t mean it- was jus’ a lil’ lesson because y’d-didn’t finish your duties as my second-in-command. I already give you ‘nough pretty privilege, don’t I?”

“Oh yeah?” you’re huffing, leaning forward until he gets the perfect view of your perky tits. Geto can’t help the way his tongue lolls out to suckle gently on your nipples. Handsome cheeks hollowing out with each swirling movement. “And I’m gonna give you a muzzle next if you don’t stop running that mean mouth.”

Shit, Geto blames it on not having you for a while now - fuck this sex ban - because he can already feel his weepy cock gush out in a fresh coat of syrupy precum. Steamy and sticky between your thighs, it was almost fucking embarrassing.

“Yes, ma’am.” he gasps out, sounding as disoriented as you looked right now. There’s a candied string of spit between his glossed-over lips and your tits that snaps around his almost leering smile. “Anything for you.”

If you felt his admission was mocking, then you didn’t say anything. And Geto was so fucking thankful, because just then you’re positioning his achy cock right at your slobbering entrance. Coating down his angry, angry shaft in your sweet juices before sinking down - slowly. So, so torturously slow. 

“Fuck!” Geto’s biting his lip when your silky soft walls give an experimental squeeze, tugging the rest of him even deeper into your tight channel. Throwing his head back, lazily - this was heaven. “I’m so- C-can’t you hurry-”

“Nope.” you grin, popping the “p”. Your gyrating hips falter into stillness, until your filthy cunt’s just barely cockwarming him at this point. Hands ghosting up his flexing abs, the plans of his bulging pecs, up, up, up until they wrap so prettily around Geto’s milky throat. “Why dontcha do it yourself since you want it so bad, hm?”

Ah, he’s in love.

“Anything for you.”

Jaw tensing, his eyes are locked on the way your pussy lips part around him. Straddled and sat so prettily on top of him, he’s planting his feet onto the silken sheets without a second thought. Long fingers intertwining deftly with the chain on those cuffs, leveraging you just right and-

Snap!

Both of you gasp in surprised synchronization when those expensive handcuffs - custom-made, mind you - shred easily. Raising your eyes to look at Geto and- oh, fuck. You were fucked. 

“That wasn’t on the plan but…” his dark eyes glint with such a predatory spark, plump lips curling into an easy smirk. He soothes over the stinging red where he’d been held, greedy gaze locked on you. And only you. “...neither was havin’ my cute lil’ assistant tie me up, hm?” 

In all of two seconds, you’re just being slammed down onto the hard ridges of Geto’s defined hipbones. Bruises sure to blossom up on your skin when his two rough palms grab a ravenous handful of your ass. Reeling your pliant body up, up, up till the very tip of his velvety cock kissed teasingly at your hole, and down. 

“O-oh!” Your hands come down to his sculpted chest, skin heated against his soft puffs of breath. And it’s just about all you can manage to get out, mouth salivating at all of the thick inches of him filling you up, so dreadfully bullying with his thrusts.

“Shit- shit shit shit, fuckin’ missed this. Must’ve had a lotttt of fun hngh! playing around with your leader, huh?” Geto lingers in hot pecks at the corners of your eyes, tasting the salty sting of your tears. “Treatin’ me like I was second-in-command. Did it get you wet, gorgeous?”

He’s leaning back to get a better view of the way your pussy was being split open, glistening and winking up at him. “Yeahhh, it sure did- jus’ look at you. You’ve been hating this petty sex ban as much as I have.”

Just the thought is enough to have whatever blood is left in his body to rush even more feverishly into his painful cock. Bulbous tip blushing a rosy red, his ravaged cock gushes sensitively with hot precum after so long, growing even girthier inside you.

You’re whining at the feeling of your already-contracted walls being stretched even more like elastic around him. “I- I did-” 

He fucks out whatever poor cry is on the tip of your tongue with a harsh thrust, arching into a perfect curve of his body against yours. 

“Awww, I know, pretty girl. I know–” Geto soothes, gliding away your glossy pout with his thumb, before pressing such a tauntingly sweet sweet kiss. “N’ we’ve gotta make up for th-those hah! eight days, right?” At your barely-lucid nod, he only grins wider. Fuck yeah, he missed this. And he’s never letting you out of his sight. “And afterward- we can talk about a little ah- promotion, how about that?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 2 days

“Just the tip.” Choso’s hushing hotly against your ear later into the night, eyes double-checking at his locked door before rutting his hot, hefty erection against the globes of your ass. “Just the- hah- tip, baby please. Feels like m’gonna die if I don’t get just a feel of your cute cunt already.”

It’s only been two days visiting his family, and Choso feels like he’s just about ready to burst. All those soft moments babying his little brother, those stupid lil’ jokes from his uncle about adding another Itadori to the family - they were swirling up inside his hazy mind and flowing straight to his achy cock. Rock-hard and leaking saturated precum all over the back of your soft cotton sleep shorts. 

Choso wanted you - and he wanted you now. 

“Baby…” his drowsy kiss drags along your lips. A calloused hand comes up under your leg to slot his achy cock between them, rubbing and grinding in smooth, slow gyrations. Shuddering, “Don’t care if we’re loud I- hah- r-really just wanna fuck a baby into ya.”

“Shh shhh, go ahead, Cho.” you giggle, whirling over your shoulder to teasingly peck at the tip of his nose. “But jus’ the tip, m’kay?”

Your sweet boyfriend’s nodding before you’re even finishing your sentence, not having the patience to even take your pajamas off. Just hooking a long, pale finger along the side of the fabric, throwing his head back against the pillows to take an even close look at the gloss of slick sticking to your inner thighs. 

“O-oh, baby. My baby–” his deep voice cracks. Biting back guttural groans when the very flushed thick tip of his cock dips so perfectly around the corner of your sopping slit. Frantically, he claps a hand over his loud moans, “Just…just the tip. Right?”

Whether he was asking you or whether he was asking himself you have no idea. Because Choso wasn’t wasting even a millisecond more, he’s rubbing in velvety glides at your swollen folds. So dripping wet that it takes him a few whimpering grinds to bully his fat head at your hole without sliding right across. Slowly. 

“Shit- missed this. J-juuust-” he’s heavily panting, kissing down your spine with each inch after fucking inch massaging inside your gummy walls. Throbbing heavily because shit, it might not have been long - but it’s felt like forever. “-the- the-”

Choso’s blabbering words only slur out even more through the gaps in his fingers, honeyed tone becoming more simpering. And you could count the hitches in his breath, the shake in his thighs when he’s disappearing between your legs. After not having you for a whole two days, he was pussydrunken already.

“Something wrong, baby?” you purr, tugging on his long strands of hair, now damp with sweat. “You look tense.”

“Tense?” Choso gasps, voice pitched up higher than usual with disbelief. “Wh-what are you ah- shit, don’ squeeze me like that- what are you t-talking about, m’not tense.” 

But your smug smirk only tugs wider at the jittery way his free hand locks onto the small of your waist. Pushing and pulling in a sultry pace, massaging your snug channel with the upwards curving divot on the very tip of his cock. Feeling just the very peak of that prominent vein he has down his creamy middle. 

“Are you sure?” you hum, hearing him outwardly gulp. And you know that you should go a little easy on him - your poor boyfriend did just spend the entire weekend being cockblocked by his family, after all. You know you should be mindful of the soft creaking of the bed, the ever-growing groans wrenching from Choso. “I would much rather you just-” Your nails leave ravaged red trails down his milky thighs “-breed me the way you’ve been wanting to these past two days, Cho.”

Oh, Choso could cry, he could moan, he could cum. 

And - tears pricking at his dewy, dark eyes, cheeks burning with embarrassment - that’s exactly what he does. You’re letting out a mewl at the feeling of Choso’s sweltering hot tip just gliding across the spongy bottom of your cervix. Glossing over your insides with a thick coat of his cum, dredge after dredge of creamy white that fill you up so much. Seeping down through the corners of your sloppy hole and forming a milky ring around the tufts of black at his hilt. “Fuck- fuck m’blamin’ being cockblocked from this heavenly pussy f’this.”

“Fuck! Wasn’t even that long, Cho. I can ah- feel you all the way-” Your fingers slide up to about halfway at your stomach, pressing down on that familiar nudging divot, “-here.”

That’s all it takes for his weepy cock to just gush more spurts of seed again. Again and again and again- Immediately, his large hand covers your mouth, fully muffling those pretty moans. 

“F-fuck, pretty- m’y dad is j-just hah- the door over.” he’s almost bawling out, hips uncontrolled with the way he’s rutting up in deep, thorough pushed of his slender hips. “So loud.” But Choso makes no move to quieten either of you. Crashing his lips into yours to let your sweetened moans vibrate away into his mouth, heavy balls smacking against your skin in a heady thwack! thwack! thwack! “So messy.” 

You feel so sluggish being stuffed to the very brim like this, limbs aching with how close Choso was pinning you back against his muscled chest. There’s only so much that your cunt can take before it’s spreading out into a messy puddle below you two, adding to the gripping squelches. Shit, you two were definitely facing hell tomorrow - namely, a too-smug Sukuna. 

“Baby…” Choso drags out, in a way you already knew didn’t bode well. Two of his fingers swipe at the mess beading out, “Since m’being so loud…why don’t I busy my mouth with something else?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 5 hours (but he won’t admit it)

That pretty pout of yours was too irresistible, the way you’d kissed him goodbye too sultry - Sukuna knew your game. 

And here - teeth gritted, thighs bouncing in frustration under the table, anger flaring when his court meeting drags onto around the fifth consecutive hour - he also knew he was playing right into it.

Yeah, fuck that.

Which is why there isn’t even a shred of regret in his smirk when he finally reaches his breaking point - a click of his fingers and he’s no longer in the royal meeting room. Instead, nestling up to your side at his chambers, smothered amongst all the expensive silken sheets. 

Not even the tiniest speck of embarrassment in his next words to you, “On all fours, brat.”

“Kuna- you’re back- fuuuck-” your honeyed moans sound out over the way he had one large hand smushing you deeper and deeper into the cushiony pillows. “-you’re back e-early?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t have anything to hngh! do with it, woman.” he spits, and the mattress dips when he’s hiking up a powerful thigh. Using the leverage to pressurize each jarring, determined little half-thrust inside your gaping hole. “Teasing n’ toying with your king. You’re hah- r-real brave for a lil’ human y’know that?”

You’re whining, “A-all it took was f-five hours of a sex ban-”

Another one of his big, beefy arms swipe down your arched spine, dipping down to spread open your puffed-up folds even more. “Silence.”

So what if the king of curses couldn’t last five hours without your pretty pussy? Was that a crime? 

The vice-like grip on your head was forcing your bleary gaze down to where he was feeding your cunt with each of his massive inches. Two absolutely engorged cocks with twin reddish tips, glossing all over your poor entrance with matching gushes of hot precum. Just barely even halfway in - but you could already feel him bulging at your very stomach. “Heh…wouldya look at that. Didn’t even prep her as much as u-usual and she’s already this ready to take me. Are ya always such a slut?”

You can’t stop yourself from bowing even deeper into his hold, the upwards curve of your spine pushing you even closer to his stacked bases. 

“Answer me.” His deep baritone snaps you out of your little haze, and two hands prop you even closer. You could feel every heated gust of his words against the shell of your ear, “Speak, if you don’ wanna displease your king, little human.” 

And oh Sukuna can’t deny that stirring pride in his chest when your jumbled-out words spill out, body trembly, needy - but still so eager to please him. 

“I- I just-” Your breath hitches wetly in your chest when one of his four hulking arms dip downwards, toying with your swollen clit between two thick fingers. It takes a branding smack! to the fat of your ass to remember what you were trying to say again. “-just knew I was gonna miss you at the meeting today, Kuna.”

And if the way he jolted inside you wasn’t an answer - the raw divots of his cocks jostling inside you to crash into your g-spot - Sukuna gasps - gasps. Voice so simperingly silken when he asks, “You missed me?”

You’re nodding - but that isn’t enough for him, fuck it might never be. 

In retaliation, your pussy is being gifted with another few of his long thrusts. Two hands tightening roughly around your waist to keep his pretty girl from escaping.

“Like I said- u-use your hngh- words, doll.” Followed by such a mean bump of both rounded curves of his fat cockheads against your g-spot, making you cry out in your sweetened voice that he loved so much. “Clearly you’ve still got the voice, heh-”

The royal bed is creaking so loudly that Sukuna has half the mind to wonder whether the fools in the meeting room not too far away could hear. Ah, fuck them. Right now he couldn’t care less about anything other than you.

“I did miss you.” you’re mewling, big fat tears pricking at your eyes each time he’s drilling in. “Missed you so much, Kuna.”

There’s a sudden, sloppy squelch! And before you know it, he’s buried all the way in until the sensitive skin of your ass rubbed rawly against those rough patches of pink at his toned pelvis, Sukuna’s heavy balls kissing snugly against your thighs. 

“Ahh–” he’s heaving out, while you can do nothing but scramble towards the headboard, the sheets, anything. Peaking in the thumb rolling over your clit to take a good, long look at how your stuttering pussy was so obscenely stretched and molded around his cocks, all the way down to those ringed tattoos on his thick bases. Gapingly full. Doubly sucking him up. “Fuck the sex ban- beats that stupid fuckin’ meeting tha’s for sure.”

And you didn’t know whether it was possible to forget how big Sukuna truly was in just five hours. Because his every throb only seems to drive him even deeper against your cervix, thickening so maddeningly to stretch out your insides. 

“Yeah yeah- atta girl. Take it all- fuck, take it all f’me.” He croons through your high, squelching movements only speeding up. There’s an element of such raw, primal need in what he does, like he’s just dragging out every dredge of pleasure out of you. You’re just gulping when a hand makes its way into your black-tinged vision, wrapping snugly around your throat to pull you backwards against his every ram. “Now, let’s see if this pretty pussy can squirt before they come around tryna find me for the meeting.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 15 minutes

“Sweetheart-” Gojo whines, rosy lips downturning into the most perfect pout you’d ever seen. “Sweetheart please- I know I was-”

“Stupid? Impulsive?” you’re rolling your eyes, despite the vice-like hold he had on you. Sitting you down so prettily on his lap, manspread as far as his office chair would allow him. “An absolute idiot?”

Fuck, at that last insult, Gojo’s cock only hardens impossibly inside your gummy walls. Marking out each and every divot and vein down his furious shaft, he throws his head back with a groan at the taut feeling of your clingy walls being stretched all around him. 

“Seriously?” you’re gasping, to which he only curls his lips up into the most unabashed grin. 

Not even a moment later, he’s bouncing his thighs, jostling you precariously on top of his frame. It makes your hips just squeeze downwards in smooth, swiveling gyrations that massage his throbbing cockhead. “Aw come on- I take back what I said about No Nut November can we just-”

“Yeah? After what-” Your eyes dart over your shoulder towards the clock at the very end of the room, “-fifteen minutes? You dragged me all the way out of a meeting after only that? Come on, Toru, you’ve gotta make to at least twenty-”

“Please.” 

You’re pausing in surprise, and that’s the last thing that Gojo wanted right about now. So with a huffed-out groan, he’s back to placing two greedy palms that smooth over the curve of your hips, up and down up and down. Soothing you over for when he just rams you down recklessly on his achy cock. 

He bites up the column of your neck, all the way up to that sweet spot at your earlobe. “Already said the magic word, didn’t I?” Before using all of his inhuman core strength to bounce you all the way down in another thorough thrust. “What? Wan’ me to say pretty please, my girl?”

The strongest was just begging at your feet, because laced with his tease was a very real, nervous tremor. Voice lilting up higher than normal, drunken eyes darting between your own and the very obvious little grind of his pulsing length.

Buried so brandingly inside you, like he wanted to make you memorize him from the inside out. Body bowed into yours like it hurt to be apart more than just a few millimeters, he was stuck against your side. Only pushing deeper and deeper and-

“I’ll- I’ll make it to twenty minutes next time-” he giggles deliriously, already tinged with such smugness. “Maybe even thirty- please- please just’, fuck- need your cute cunt.”

And you were a strong sorcerer in your own right - but seated like this, Gojo definitely had the advantage. He was still so much taller, so much broader, muscles rippling through the thin fabric of his black t-shirt. Biceps bulging out with each stuttering slam into your hips, it’s like he wanted to be as sloppy as possible. 

To have your cunt drooling down every inch of his angry, red cock glistening a sweet sweet coat of juices with every single squelch. It drips down from where your skirt was bunched up, down onto the wooden floors. Shit, you definitely weren’t going back to the meeting like this. 

“So wet, huh?” He smiles, a snowy brow rising at the sight. And Gojo’s tall frame sags even deeper down his steadfast chair to get an even better long, swallowing deeply. “Damn- you’re makin’ me so thirsty, sweetheart.”

You smack his chest, “S-so filthy, Toru.” But you can’t hide the slight moan in your scolding, the way your clit grows even more heated - and he notices, of course. 

“I got you- I got you, girl.” He rolls an eager thumb right over where you wanted him the most, bringing a kiss over towards the underside of your jaw, your cheeks, your mouth. “N’ of course m’ filthy- what’d you expect?” Gojo’s free hand occupies itself with guiding your cunt down at a maddening pace. Squelching so loud that times like this he was thankful for six eyes, for all the amplified sounds of your huffs and cunt clamping down around his girthy cock. His next words are whispered against your tongue, “M’the fucker that couldn’t last fifteen minutes without your pretty pussy, of course.”

He’s not even waiting to ask at this point - he’s already lost, he’s already broken the sex ban but fuck, did defeat feel so sweet. 

There’s a stuttering squelch, your slick glossing down his entire wrist when Gojo’s fingers sped up on your poor clit. Circling and tugging teasingly, his fingers were so deftly making you writhe. 

It simply makes your toes curl, white-hot pleasure sparking behind your eyes with each unwavering clash into your g–spot. And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d be almost embarrassed at how it only takes a few clamoring rummages at your insides, a few steadfast thrusts right into the bullseye of your sweet spots, before you’re cumming and cumming so hard it makes you gasp.

“Fuck-” Your nails dig ferociously into Gojo’s strong wrist, stationed on one side of your waist, fucking downwards to meet his sloppy staccato. “Fuck fuck fuck- m’cumming- m’cumming, Toru–”

“Heh, easy girl.” he jests, dragging his plump lips down the sensitive side of your neck. “Made fun of me f’being so needy but look at you.” Running his pretty mouth a mile a minute, you could tell he’s nearing the end of his sanity, as well. Each sensitive twitch of his long shaft massaging deeper and deeper into your g-spot. “Cum f’me then- fuck- cumming- cum.”

Your velvety walls are just milking each of his gummy thrusts, gripping onto you through each and every wave of pleasure. Bolts of electricity zap through your veins, and Gojo’s flinging his eyes shut, mouth parting to groan out your name with each spurt of his thick, potent cum. Over and over-

“Fuck- fuck, yeah tha’s right.” he slurs, a hand just slamming down on his nearby desk. Like he wanted to break. To ruin. Whispering against your ear, “Now how about we go a few more times to see if I can make twenty minutes without this pretty pussy next time?”

“Thirty.”

“Deal.”

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[kingkatsuki]

— my protector

Tengen needs your help in trying to locate his wives on a mission, and Sanemi is furious.

Get me a man who’s only soft for us, stat😫😭

Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, established relationship, reader is a fellow hashira, jealous Sanemi (for literally no reason), possessiveness, rough sex, slight degradation, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding, creampie.

Word Count: 4.2k.

All Sanemi could see was red, fiery red as he roamed the halls of the Butterfly Mansion, ignoring the pain in his right arm from the wound Aoi had just patched up moments earlier.

“Shinobu will kill you if she finds you drawing your sword in here!” Aoi called after him, but Sanemi could care less as his eyes sought out the Sound Pillar.

He had just returned from a three-week-long mission to find out that Uzui had enlisted you for help on one of his missions. Practically offering you up as bait to try and find his wives who had gone missing, like that was even your problem. And Sanemi knew you were always so eager and willing to help, it was something he loved and loathed about you at the same time.

The rage continued building inside him as he pulled open another sliding door aggressively, the wood gliding back from the force as he skimmed another empty room before continuing further through the mansion.

“Listen to me, Shinazugawa.” Aoi huffed, followed after him as one of the only people inside the mansion who weren’t scared of the white-haired man, “I told you Shinobu won’t be pleased to find out you’re breaking all her doors.”

“Fuck her,” Sanemi rolled his eyes, “Where’s Uzui?”

“If you would’ve actually stopped for five minutes to let me explain, instead of being such a jerk,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, “He left with her a few hours ago. Said it couldn’t wait much longer, that his wives may be in danger—”

“How the fuck is that her problem?” Sanemi growled, “So he isn't here?”

“No, but I would advise you don't follow him. Your wounds—” Sanemi ignored Aoi, already halfway down the hall as he marched towards the entrance, determined to find you on his own. It was when he stepped into the courtyard that he saw Uzui coming in by the front gate with a wide smile on his face.

“Ah, my crow told me you were back!” Uzui made to step towards him to finish the conversation, but Sanemi’s sword was already drawn as he stepped towards the larger man, “Perfect timing, my friend!”

“You fucking left her there?” Sanemi barked, “Why are you back here?”

“I came to get you at the request of your lady love,” Uzui grinned as Sanemi curled his lip in irritation at the pet name, “She made me promise to tell you as soon as you got back from your mission because she wouldn’t be around. And I thought you'd prefer a personal greeting.”

“Why the fuck are you sending her on your missions anyway,” Sanemi continued, ignoring Uzui's grin, “And leaving her there!”

“It hasn’t even been twelve hours,” Uzui shrugged, standing in place even as Sanemi stepped towards him.

“That’s already twelve hours too damn long, you prick.” Sanemi drew his sword as he made to lunge towards his fellow hashira.

“She’s probably safer there than she’d ever be out in the field,” Uzui dodged a blow with the hilt of his sword, the guard barely protecting his hands as he used his body weight to push the Wind Pillar back.

“Probably?” Sanemi roared, “She’s probably got sick fucks like you all over her right now.”

“Oh,” Uzui’s lips curled into a cocky smirk at the admission, standing upright as he pushed some fallen hair away from his eyes, “So that’s it— you’re jealous.”

“I ain’t jealous, you fuckwad.” Sanemi grunted as he attempted another slash towards Uzui, knowing it was serious when the wind user hadn’t even bothered to use his power.

“Sure seems like it,” Uzui scoffed, taking another step back to avoid his attack, “Nothing is stopping you from visiting her, you know. She’s only a few towns across and I'm here to take you right to her.”

“Oh, you’re taking me to her,” Sanemi spat, “Right fucking now.”

“Someone is asking for me?” You raised a brow suspiciously at the implication. Wondering if this meant the demons had realised that you were in fact a slayer intent on taking their head. Your stomach swirled in trepidation as you tried not to show any fear, smiling at the young girl by the door as you bowed your head.

“Yeah, and frankly I’m glad,” She clung to the belt of her kimono, “He looks scary!”

“I definitely don’t want to spend the night with him,” Another girl grimaced, “I don’t think I’d make it out alive.”

You frowned, worried that you wouldn’t have time to access your katana to holster it beneath your kimono. Instead, all you had was the small dagger strapped against your thigh, which you were certain wouldn’t be enough to protect you from the attack of a demon. But at least it was better than nothing, knowing he wouldn’t attack until you were at least secure back inside this room as you bowed your head. Following her down the stairs to the entrance of the establishment, feeling a cool breeze tickle your ankles from the open door and curtain flowing in the wind.

Your heart stilled when you noticed the familiar man standing by the entrance, glaring at anyone who dared look his way as you felt your chest swell with familiarity. You hadn’t expected to see him here this night, and you certainly hadn’t expected him to be asking after you.

“Is this the girl you were asking after, my Lord?”

“Yes,” He grunted as the Madame motioned him to step forward and follow you back to your room.

You had to stop yourself jumping him in the foyer, wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and cling to his broad shoulders.

Feeling the heat practically radiating from his body as you slid open the sliding door to your room, stepping to the side to allow Sanemi to follow before sliding it shut. And in an instant, his rough hands were grabbing hold of the fat at your hips to pull your body against his, your lips meeting in a bruising kiss.

Your hands reached up to thread through his messy hair as the scent of the woods mixed with his natural sweat invaded your senses. He clearly hadn’t bothered to bathe when he returned from his mission, far more concerned with finding you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He spoke against your lips when you finally pulled away for air, still holding onto you as your nails dragged against his scalp, “I had to come home to find out you’re helping Uzui?”

“Tengen needed my help,” You murmured, and Sanemi’s nose scrunched in irritation at the use of the Sound Pillars' first name.

“Tengen,” He mocked the pitch of your voice, “Has three fucking wives that can help him, I only have one.”

“Technically,” You parroted his tone, giving him a cocky smirk as you felt his fingers press into the skin at your hips, “I’m not even your wife.”

“You’re as good as,” Sanemi scoffed as he stole another kiss, “And Uzui would do well to remember it.”

“His wives are missing,” You mumbled sadly.

“So does that mean he’s looking for a fourth?” Sanemi frowned at you as you couldn’t help but smile and shake your head at his jealousy.

“No,” You lowered your voice to a whisper, “He hasn’t heard from them for a few days, the letters have stopped coming— and he thinks something bad may have happened to them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sanemi couldn’t lie that it had hurt to find out from someone else that you wouldn’t be there upon his return, whether it was jealousy or the fear of losing you he was unsure. But either way, it left him with that familiar sense of dread that pooled in the pit of his stomach and threatened to boil over.

“I’m sorry, but there wasn’t much time,” You did wish you’d sent your crow to warn him, but Uzui had promised you that he would let Sanemi know. Especially since you were doing this for the sake of his wives, “He needed my help, so I offered.”

“You’re far too nice.” Sanemi shook his head, using his grip on your hips to pull you into another sultry kiss.

“I thought that’s why you loved me.” You teased.

“No,” Sanemi scoffed, “I love you for your perfect ass,” He spanked your cheek for emphasis, “Everything else is either a bonus or a crux on my life.”

“You pig.” You scrunched your nose as Sanemi couldn’t stop himself from stealing another kiss.

“I’m kidding, sweetheart,” Sanemi’s eyes softened as he reached up to cup your face in a calloused palm. His thumb stroking gentle circles against your cheek as you leaned into his touch, “But you really should stop putting yourself in harm's way.”

“I’m a hashira,” You replied simply, “It’s what we do to protect others.”

“Protecting others doesn’t mean becoming a whore.” He spat, although you knew there was no malice there. The harsh tone covered up the fear and dread he felt in your gut at the prospect of something happening to you.

“And yet here you are, at the whorehouse requesting me by name.” You smiled back, relishing in the pink hue that dusted his pale cheeks.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” His tone sobered, resting his forehead against your own as he stared down into your eyes, “What a pitiful existence it would be.”

“You won’t lose me, Sanemi.” You wrapped your arms around his waist to pull his body against you, feeling his semi-hard cock press against your hip. The time without you made even more conspicuous when he's now surrounded by the comforting scent of you again.

“Did anyone touch you?” He immediately pulled back, concern evident in his features as he looked you over.

“No, I’ve been fine,” You shook your head, “They’ve mainly had me sitting down for tea with travellers passing through.”

“Good,” He pressed a kiss against your forehead in relief as he exhaled softly, “You have no idea how much I missed you, sweet girl.”

He peppered kisses along the curve of your jaw as you tilted your head back to give him more room. Your hands smoothed along his collarbones before dipping lower to trace patterns against the marred skin that scarred his chest, pressing your fingers into the ridges as you felt the tacky sweat clinging to his skin.

“I missed you too,” You whimpered gently as his teeth found your pulse point, biting down on the sensitive skin as his tongue lashed against it.

Sanemi bullied his muscular thigh between your parted legs to keep you steady against the wall as he shamelessly fiddled with the belt of your kimono. Letting the fabric fall open as he drank in the sight of your bare skin beneath, his firm hands immediately paw at your bare sides. Noticing the small dagger that you had holstered against one of your thighs as he ran his fingers over the handle of it in satisfaction.

“That’s my girl.” He murmurs, “Not planning to use that on me are you?”

He teased, pushing it back into the holster as he moved his hands back up the curve of your hips towards your chest. Truth be told, he was relieved that you had some form of protection in here. Especially when there was the chance that a demon was responsible for the spate of missing persons in the area.

“It depends if you’re nice to me or not,” You mused.

“I’m always nice.” The words coming from Sanemi’s lips alone were enough to have a melodic laugh rumbling in your chest, as for most, Sanemi and nice were complete contradictions.

“Liar,” Throwing your head back in a pretty laugh that had Sanemi’s heart rattling against his rib cage.

“I mean, I’m always nice to you, aren’t I?” Sanemi’s thumbs stroked the underside of your breasts as he delighted in the way your body responded to him, curving your back towards him as your bare cunt pressed against the flat of his thigh.

“We shouldn’t,” You murmured, “Not here—”

“Let me have this, sweetheart,” He hummed, leaning down to capture one of your pebbled nipples between his lips as he sucked hard, “I am a paying customer, after all.”

In fact, he was going to get that money from Uzui for his pure subordination.

“Why pay for something you can get for free at home?” You teased as he afforded your other breast the same attention, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as you let out another airy moan.

“My girl wasn’t there when I arrived home, and I had heard the girls here were beautiful,” He played along, “Apparently there’s one with the best fuckin’ pussy.”

“Oh yeah?” You gasped as you felt his fingers press against the indents of your thighs, dangerously close to your labia as you bucked against his leg. Giving your clit some slight relief as Sanemi continued forward, his thumb brushing through the wet slick that coated your folds as it drooled out of your neglected hole.

“Yeah,” He repeated, pulling away from your breast with a pop as he found your clit. Pressing sloppy circles against it with the calloused pad of his thumb as he watched you shamelessly grind yourself into his touch, “Apparently she’s already fucked into the shape of another guy though.”

“Must be a lucky guy,” Your eyes rolled back, knocking your head against the wall when you felt two of his thick digits slip inside your tight hole with ease. Scissoring them to loosen you up as he pulled back to watch you inquisitively through half-lidded eyes.

“The fuckin’ luckiest.” Sanemi grinned as he felt your walls throb around his fingers. He deliberately curled them towards the spongy spot inside you that he knew would have you seeing stars as he began to focus each roll of his wrist against it.

His name continued to spill from your lips as he kept his movements poised and focused, his rough thumb kneading circles against your clit as he worked you towards your release. No one knew your body better than he did, and he knew after being pent up for so long how little effort it would take to have you dangling on the edge of your release.

“Fuck, Sanemi.” You moaned, already feeling yourself dangerously close to falling, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum.” He spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and his blase tone immediately had your cunt clenching around him as you swan dived directly into your bliss. The pleasure surged through your body hard and fast as you came undone, his darkened eyes focused on your movements a he kept his fingers pressed against that same velvety spot. Following the wave of your hips as you rode out your release, unrelenting against the sensitive area as he already had you hurtling towards a second.

It was too much, and not enough at the same time. Your pliant walls throbbed around his slick digits as you wished for something more, something bigger.

“‘Nemi, fuck me please.” You whined pitifully.

“Such a filthy mouth on such a pretty girl,” He teased, but he pulled his fingers away from your sopping heat, lifting them up to the light to spread them as you noticed the silvery webs of your release clinging to them as he pushed them between your lips to taste yourself.

You tried to speak, but the pads of his fingers against your tongue muffled the words as you cleaned them off. His lips curled into a satisfied smile as he pulled them out of your mouth, dragging your glossy bottom lip down in the process as both hands immediately reached for his belt.

“When we get home I am fucking you like you deserve.” Sanemi spoke coolly, “Not some quick fuck in a whorehouse.”

“I deserve everything you give me, 'Nemi.” You smile up at him lazily before watching him tug his pants down, revealing his fat cock to your prying gaze.

You immediately reached for it, and he let you. Hissing when your smaller palm wrapped around the girth of him, giving him a teasing jerk that had his nostrils flaring and his jaw locking. Your thumb swipes over the swollen tip to gather the pearl of pre before smoothing it down his length, delighting in the choked grunt that rumbled at the back of his throat.

“Is that so?” He continued, “So bending you over the moment I get you home will be deserved,” His voice darkened, his own palm joining yours against his length as he tightened your grip on his cock, holding your hand steady as he fucked himself into your fist, “You tease.”

“Fuck,” Your cunt throbbed around nothing at his suggestion, as you instinctively spread your legs further apart, “Please, 'Nemi.”

Sanemi curled a palm beneath your thigh to hoist it up against his hip, spreading you open for him as you guided the leaky tip of his cock between you. Stroking it against your drenched folds as you coated him with your essence, moaning when the swollen tip nudged your puffy clit. Feeling yourself growing more impatient as Sanemi pulled his hips back to tease you, pushing your hand away from his cock as he wrapped himself in a fist. Pressing the head against your tight entrance as he felt your hole tremble against him, trying desperately to coax him in as he indulged himself with your reaction.

“‘Nemi, don’t be an asshole,” You pouted as you tried to can’t your hips forward, feeling the tip breach your entrance before he was quick to move his hips back. More than content with teasing you, despite being in such an open, compromising place.

“If I were an asshole I’d leave you unsatisfied like this to search for the demon myself,” He goaded, pressing his hips forward once more.

“Sanemi,” You whined in irritation, “Don’t tease me, please, it’s been too long.”

He didn’t give you a moment to think before he was bullying his cock inside your tight cunt. Your inner walls stretched to accommodate his girth as he moulded you to the shape of him once more, reminding you of exactly who you belonged to. The sensation stole the air from your lungs as you could do little but cling to his broad shoulders as he afforded you a moment to adjust to his size, dragging himself from your velvety walls before canting his hips forward again. Setting a languid motion as he slowly rolled his hips against you.

“Sanemi,” You sighed in satisfaction as you felt whole once more. Too many lonely nights were spent dreaming of this as you felt him finally bottom out, the coarse hairs at the base tickling your clit as you bit down on your bottom lip.

“We’re in a whorehouse,” He mused, still sluggishly rolling his hips into you, “It only seems right that I treat you like one.”

Your cunt clenched around his cock hard at the notion, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Sanemi who grinned in satisfaction. His fingers tighten their grip around your thigh as he takes this as his answer.

Sanemi is brutal as he fucks into you, not sparing you a moment's peace as he uses you for his own gratification. The sound of skin against skin echos the small room as his balls slap against the curve of your ass with each forward cant of his hips. The ferocity of his thrusts has your breasts bouncing and your thighs crying out for some relief as you struggle to stand upright, thankful that Sanemi’s strong body has you pinned against the wall as he fucks into you.

“Oh my god,” You cry out, nails digging into his skin as he maintains his pace. His other hand squeezes at the fat of your ass as he angles his hips, the curve of his cock drags against the spot inside you that he knows will have you seeing stars as the blunt tip kneads your cervix.

“Look at me.” Sanemi growls, his warm breath fanning your face as he keeps a consistent pace.

Your eyes meet his and you’re certain you’ll cum under the intensity of his gaze alone, your cunt clenches in retaliation as he continues to thrust into your sopping hole. Each sultry moan he pulls from deep in your chest has him rolling his hips with more vigour, eager to have you repeat them as he works you towards your climax.

It’s pitiful really, how easily he has you submitting to him as you already feel the telltale signs of your climax ebbing in your pelvis. The pressure builds up as it nears breaking point as Sanemi pushes into you with more ferocity, using your body for his own means as he works himself to his own release.

“I’m going to leave you pumped full of my seed,” He growls against your cheek, his chest heaving as he feels his balls begin to tighten, “Leave it drooling down your thighs when I’m finished with you. So that everyone knows who you belong to—”

You knew this was a direct attack on Uzui, and the fact that he’d handpicked you for his assistance on this mission. Even though there was nothing in it beyond securing the safety of his wives, it had Sanemi oozing with jealousy and he was intent on reminding the Sound Pillar that you were not his plaything.

“Do you also need a reminder of who you belong to, sweetheart?” Sanemi spoke lowly as he fucked into your pliant walls, slipping a hand between your connected bodies to press sloppy circles to your clit.

“No, ‘Nemi—” That familiar sensation throbbed between your thighs as you teetered on the cusp of your climax.

“No? Then who do you belong to?”

“You, ‘Nemi. You—” You choked out, leaving messy red lines against his chest now as he pressed harder against your clit.

“Louder.”

“You, ‘Nemi! It’s always been you!” You cry out, certain that the rest of the floor could hear you as you began to gush around his cock. Your hips bucked wildly as he pinned you in place, keeping his thumb firm against your clit as he watched you ride out your climax. Indulging in the debauched noises that escaped from between your pretty, bruised lips.

“Good girl,” He snarled before moving his hand from your clit to resume a damn near savage pace. Rutting hips against your own messily, working himself towards his own end as he felt the way your walls continued clenching around him in the aftershocks of your climax, “Such a good girl for me.”

He arched his back so he could look down at where your bodies were connected, watching the way his thick cock disappeared inside your velvety walls. And the creamy ring of slick that you’d left around the base of him, the silvery lines matting into his pubes as he felt his balls begin to seize. Certain he wouldn’t be able to last much longer before giving a few more sloppy thrusts and emptying his balls into your warm, wet cunt.

Sanemi stayed buried inside you, feeling the last spurts of his orgasm surge through him as he coated your walls in thick, white spunk. Cherishing the final few flutters of your walls around him as you both came down from your highs, peppering kisses against your face as you placed a palm against his chest to feel his racing heart, the dull thump of it soothing you as you felt your thick lashes begin to flutter.

“Don’t fall asleep, sweetheart.” Sanemi rasped, starting to pull himself out of your spent cunt as you whined in objection. Trying to tighten your thigh around him to keep his hips in position as he grinned down at you; pressing an apologetic kiss to the side of your lips before looking down to see the mess of your combined release stringing against his length as the silvery lines split apart, “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta.”

You knew he had to go, Uzui was probably still waiting for him on a rooftop somewhere. Hopeful that you’d have some news to share with Sanemi about the whereabouts of his wives, but you felt the regret begin to pool in the pit of your stomach as reality settled back in.

“If you want to leave with me, I’ll take you right now,” He said as though it was the most simple thing in the world, “But if you want to stay in I’ll be watching.”

You didn’t have to tell him your answer, he already knew. Placing a final, lingering kiss on your lips as he held you in his arms, “Nothing will ever happen to you as long as I’m around.”

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni. I'm currently obsessed with the thought of Bucky making his pretty girl take it. I'm talking him keeping you caged under him with your legs wrapped around his waist while his arm are wrapped tightly around your body. This type of energy comes out when he's pissed. Stressed. Jealous. He's going to remind you exactly who you belong to and my favourite thing about this is imagine you didn't even know what happened. Maybe he overheard some agents talking about how irresistible you are. So cute and pretty and they'd give anything to-

Nope. The thought alone of anytone touching what's his has him storming off, hauling you over to mark you in the most primal way possible. Remind everyone who you belong to. He plucks you up from whatever you're doing and carries you over his shoulder like a beast; you're naked on his bed seconds later. He plows into you, hips slamming his cock into your very soaked cunt, unapologetically fucking you with the deepest moans. He sounds so feral. He is feral.

"Feels-so-good, such a good girl, letting me put my big dick in you"

Those grunts and groans he lets out show just how selfish he's being because he's focused on how fucking good you're making his dick feel. You're so soft but you make his cock so hard. You're such an angel for him, spreading your legs for him the second he set you down. He'd been torn between wanting to ravish you immediately or taking a second to throw his clothes off. He decides he needs you to fucking smell like him when this is all over, have every bit of his scent covering your skin. He wants to feel every bit of you all over him.

No one else would ever get to have you like this. Feel your naked breasts on their chest. Feel your soft tummy press against theirs. Feel the plushness of your thighs squeezing their waist. Feel your silky walls squeeze and milk their cocks till they're all soft and sensitive.

They'd hear you though.

They'd hear every moan and Bucky would make sure of that.

"Whose cock is making you scream baby, tell me" He growls, your combined arousal making a mess on the bed.

"Y-OURS-" You hiccup, choking back a sob as he snakes his had to wrap around your throat. Damn right. His fucking cock. His dick in your pussy. Not the stupid little boys who think they have a chance to even breathe the same air. His pretty, pink, fat fucking cock destroying you to his heart's content, stretching you open as much as he wants. "J-JAMES"

"That's right, say my name baby, say the name of your man who fucks you this good, let everyone hear" He's already turned off all the sound proofing and maybe he left his door a crack open. Maybe.

"Jaamesss" You sound so gone, cockdrunk over the way the spongy head of his dick kisses that sensitive spot that makes you squirt cream with each of his thrusts. "Don't st-stop, please-fuck-me-Jamie" Your voices slurs and turns into a whine as your eyes roll back. For such a sweet princess, you sound like an absolute slut when he's inside you and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Mhphhm, sound so pretty, gonna make me blow, let me empty my balls in you" He starts to fuck you faster causing the headboard to shake, the whole bed creaking with his movements. "M'gonna cum angel-oh shittt-"

He nearly whimpers when he feels your doe eyes looking up at him with your ankles locked around his waist; he knows exactly what that means.

"You want it inside you huh, want my cum in you baby, s'that it?"

"Want-it-please, can't hold it" you cling onto him tighter and Bucky can't last any longer.

"Cum with me, together, c'mon angel, cum with me, yes, fuck yes, can feel you-fuck-" He begs, needing those little boys who spoke about you to hear exactly what they're missing out on, "OH GOD, FUCKKK" He doesn't hold back as he gives into his orgasm, your name dripping of his lips while you sob and squeal.

I want him to give you the softest aftercare. Tell you what a good girl you were for him. How much he loves and adores you, how special you are to him.

I want him to have the most smug expression on his face when he goes back down. He's such a little shit. He passes by a cackling Tony and a wheezing Sam. Not one agent dares look him in the eye. Steve may be blushing but he'll give credit where credit is due. His best friend sent a very clear message. Bucky is a possessive, loving, horny little shit and I need it.

Need it now.

[ckret2]

who wants a prism break?

So, the Theraprism! The Theraprism sucks, right?

This is like, a good day.

The Theraprism clearly sucks.

Have a one shot of Bill escaping Theraprism with the most desperate escape plan imaginable: reincarnation.

(Warning for, as you might expect, psychiatric hospital abuse.)

####

There are fates worse than death. Like boredom, for instance!

####

Everything was black and numb and silent and cold so so cold but no he could only call it cold if he felt cold and Bill didn't feel coldness there was just the absence of a feeling the absence of heat the absence of light the absence of sound the absence of touch the absence of air.

The absence of everything.

Bill had loved a void once—a micro black hole. Every time they touched it slowly killed him, spaghettified his limbs, drained his energy. His energy was so vast that she never claimed a drop of a drop of a drop of his reserves—but it still hurt like nothing else to be crushed and stretched and ripped and consumed by her event horizon. The pain was wonderful. Being shredded was ecstasy.

This void was the opposite of her. 

He couldn't even feel anything when he tried to scream—without air, he couldn't feel his vocal plates vibrate. He couldn't feel his hands, his face, his eye; he tried to bite himself just to feel something and he couldn't feel his mouth, he tried to rip open his wounds and couldn't find them; why couldn't he see his own light, why couldn't he see his blood, where had he gone, was he gone—

Reality returned like a light bulb being switched on.

The first thing he registered was a shrill sound on the verge of inaudibility; and then the pain in his eye, his sides, his wounds; and then the dull gray light, the hard floor under his knees, the antiseptic stench in the air conditioning.

He stopped screaming. The shrill sound stopped.

"Energetic as always, are we?"

Bill blinked blearily at the Orb of Healing Light hovering before him. He croaked, "I'll regurgitate you."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." A glowing translucent clipboard manifested in front of the Orb. "Well, you've gone through this enough times to know the drill! Do you need a moment to recover, or—?"

"No no, I'm fine, I'm fine." Bill slumped forward, trembling hands on the floor, waiting for the vertigo to pass. "I'm fine. Do your thing." He'd rather get the post-Solitary Wellness Void reorientation interview over with.

"Perfect. What's your name?"

"I'm ol' Vinegar Pete."

"No clowning, please."

He sighed loudly. "Bill Cipher."

"Good. Where are you?"

He considered saying hell, but decided he'd used up all the clowning he could risk for one day. He didn't want to go back in. "The Theraprism. Ward 333."

"Very good. When are you?"

"I was gonna ask you," Bill groaned. "How long was I in the hole this time? A million years? Ten million?"

The Orb checked its notes. "Eight minutes."

"Wh—no, no I know that time moves slower out in reality than in the prism. I'm not asking how much time passed in reality, I'm asking how much time passed here."

"Eight minutes," the Orb repeated. "Outside the Theraprism, one third of one second passed."

Bill groaned again and flopped flat on the floor.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Why are any of us here?" Bill asked the gray linoleum tiles. "Usually because some dumb beast tripped into the booby trap that sets off its reproductive process. How's your species work, you pop outta nebulas, right—?"

"I meant, coming out of the Solitary Wellness Void."

"Oh." Bill tried to remember what his infraction had been this time. "Because I failed to escape."

"Because you tried to escape."

If he'd succeeded, they never could have punished him. "Sure."

"Good, you seem oriented to your surroundings. Let's get you to the nurse and then back to your cell." The nurse? What did he need a nurse for?

He only realized then that he must have succeeded in reopening his wounds in the SWV: the never-quite-healed crack across his exoskeleton was wider, the edges chipped and bent. It hurt. His eye socket hurt too; he tasted blood. With the way his whole body usually ached after leaving the void, he hadn't even noticed.

Through the crack in his exoskeleton, his edges had frayed into fine golden threads. The sight of silvery blood on his hands made him nauseous; he hastily looked away and reminded himself it was only his own. 

####

As Bill wearily followed behind the Orb and two security guards followed behind him, he had to periodically turn to hover sideways to streamline himself. These days he was so weak that he could feel the air resistance pushing back against him when he floated; with his wound reopened, he felt like the air pressure could snap his exoskeleton along the crack and break him in half.

"You're not Emmy," Bill said. "You're, uh..."

"A-AOX4."

"Oxyyy," Bill said weakly. "Heyyy. S'been a while. Usually I get a personal welcome back from the void, why didn't Emmy show? Don't tell me it doesn't see me as a threat anymore!" He'd be offended if it didn't. D-SM5 was the closest thing he had to a nemesis these days. Even if he couldn't beat it, he wanted to think he still irritated the daylights out of it.

"Director SM5 couldn't make it. It's overseeing the preparations for Paingoreous's reincarnation."

"That's today? Good riddance." Paingoreous had started getting sanctimonious the past few hundred group therapy sessions—don't you have any compassion for your victims and it's possible to live a happy life without slaughtering all your enemies first and maybe I should ask for permission before I vivisect my friends' faces—passive, self-defeatist crap like that. Vivisecting your friends and seeing who complained was how you found out who your lame friends were! Now that the wet blanket was leaving, the rest of them could get back to spending their sessions reminiscing about the glory days and trying to set the donuts on fire when the therapist was distracted.

"Yes," A-AOX4 said pointedly, "it is good he gets to leave to go become a productive member of reality. We're all so happy that he's rehabilitated enough to earn a new chance at life." (Bill rolled his eye. A-AOX4 ignored it.) "Wouldn't you like a chance to rejoin reality, Bill?"

More than anything. He'd been in this crystallized brain's perpetual dreamscape for what felt like both a thousand years and a single day—time never passing, an eternal inescapable moment. He'd tried to break out, sneak out, or bargain his way out more times than he could count; sometimes he was locked in the SWV as punishment; and sometimes the staff gently stopped him, confiscated his supplies, and chastised him for the effort—and the reminder that he was as powerless as a child was worse than the void. He'd gone delirious from the boredom, hallucinating screams and burning faces as his mind struggled to stimulate itself (and he'd been medicated for it). He'd so despaired of escaping that he'd looked for a way to burn up the remains of his energy and vanish for good (and he'd been medicated for it). He ached with the need to see the stars again.

But not enough to sell his soul for it. If he took the staff's route—let them break him down, sandblast off his rough edges, erase everything that made him him, and finally physically transform him into some alien creature—then whatever left the Theraprism would no longer be Bill Cipher.

"What, and force you guys to find a new 'unique case'? I wouldn't do that to you! I know how much you love me," Bill said. "Besides, why would I go through all that just so I can reincarnate as a sentient snowflake, or Mi-Go antennae lice, or..."

"A butterfly," A-AOX4 cut in, an edge of impatience creeping into its tone. "Paingoreous has chosen to reincarnate as a butterfly. We all think that's a very productive way to channel his desire to digest his own skin."

"Unless it's one of those blood-drinking butterflies, lame." Bill scoffed. "Wait—hold on, you said butterfly? Like an Earth butterfly?"

They were, of course, not actually speaking an Earth language, but an interdimensional pidgin that borrowed words and grammar from dozens of worlds. When around the Orbs of Healing Light that held half the staff positions, Bill tended to speak a dialect of the pidgin that used flashes of light for 40% of its vocabulary. It was perfectly possible that the word Bill knew as "butterfly" was also used for some alien creature, but—

"Yes, an Earth butterfly. A Vanessa atalanta, to be precise."

Aw, boo. Not even a cool butterfly. "He's reincarnating on Earth?"

"Yes. Many of our patients reincarnate on Earth. As long as you're careful about which region and century you reincarnate into, it's at the top of our recommended list of Goldilocks zones."

There was another phrase that Bill recognized, but this time he was sure his definition was not A-AOX4's definition. "Whaaat do Goldilocks zones have to do with reincarnation."

"You didn't pay attention to the orientation session on our outpatient reincarnation program, did you."

"What! I didn't get an orientation session!" said Bill, who probably didn't remember any such session because he didn't pay attention to it.

"Well—we rank millions of planets and their dimensional parallels based on their potential to help patients reintegrate into reality. We do try to set our patients up for success," A-AOX4 said. "To qualify as a Goldilocks zone, a planet has to meet the Theraprism's rigorous list of criteria: its lifeforms, cultures, laws of physics, and position in interdimensional society must all be conducive to a patient's continued recovery. We want to ensure that our patients' new lives are neither so difficult as to retraumatize them, nor so easy as to let them coast by avoiding continued personal growth, but right in the middle, so that they're emotionally and spiritually challenged without being overwhelmed. The Goldilocks zone: a perfect compromise between two extremes."

"Yeah, sure, sounds great." Bill could feel his eye glazing over in disinterest. Fight it, Cipher.

"Do you miss Earth?"

Bill tilted to glance askance at A-AOX4, and was surprised to see it had turned to focus a spotlight on him. Oh—it thought it had finally found a carrot to dangle in front of him. That was a popular strategy here: they figured out what a patient wanted most, and then used it to coax them into good behavior and "rehabilitation"—better still if they could attach a sense of urgency to it. Don't you want to see your descendants again before the last of them dies out? Don't you want to see your homeworld before its sun swallows it? Don't you want to reconcile with your god before the heat death of your universe?

But Bill had no universe, no homeworld, no family; no lovers or friends or gods that hadn't betrayed him and left him to rot here; and he'd remained smugly steadfast in refusing to give D-SM5 and its minions anything else it could use to get under his chitin. He was proud that he was too broken for even the famed Theraprism to fix him.

A-AOX4 probably thought it had finally found an opening. It might be useful to let it keep thinking that.

"You kidding me? Earth? Pfff! I don't miss that overgrown asteroid one bit!" He waved off the suggestion, and winced when the gesture tugged wrong at his reopened wound. "But hey, you don't study a world for millions of years without finding a few things about it to like. The music's pretty good. And the movies and literature, though if you ask me, they peaked between the first two World Wars. I like trees, evolution did a great job with trees. And humans really went off with the architecture. The pyramids? 10 out of 10. And some of the locals aren't bad, I've got a few exes from Earth."

"Do you? How many exes?"

"Living? Just a hundred forty or fifty," Bill said dismissively. "Earthlings just have those pretty eyes, you know? I'm a sucker for a pretty eye! But outside of that, no, there's nothing on Earth for me."

"I see," A-AOX4 said lightly, and dropped the conversation.

Hook, line, and sinker.

####

The original definition of a "Goldilocks zone" came from astrobiology. The Goldilocks zone was the ring of space around a star in which an orbiting planet could support liquid water and thus water-based life: not too close to the star and too hot, not too far and too cold, but just right. Earth, for instance, orbited Sol in its Goldilocks zone.

It was from this definition that other, more metaphorical definitions of Goldilocks zones emerged. Such as the Theraprism's: a world that was neither too stressful nor too boring for a newly brainwashed—sorry, "cured"—patient. And apparently Earth was in that Goldilocks zone, too.

Which was very interesting to Bill—because in their search for a new home, the Henchmaniacs had come up with their own definition of a Goldilocks zone. For them, it was a dimension close enough to the Nightmare Realm with a thin enough barrier that they could easily punch through it, but not so close and so thin that puncturing the barrier would pop it like a balloon and cause the dimension to immediately prolapse into the Nightmare Realm—which was a problem they'd had before. More than once. They needed a dimension they could easily cut a hole into, but control it, so they could slowly pump the Nightmare Realm's contents in. A barrier neither too vulnerable nor too strong, but just right.

And wouldn't you know it—but Earth happened to be in that Goldilocks zone too. Right next to a point in the dimensional membrane so thin, the Nightmare Realm could almost stretch through and kiss it.

####

Since Bill Cipher was infamously known as the last survivor of a trillion-years-extinct species, and had until recently been capable of instantly repairing himself, there were no medical records on how his anatomy worked. It didn't help that at some point eons ago he'd somehow managed to graft a 3D exoskeleton to his 2D anatomy without breaking his own physics, meaning no one had seen his true body in recorded history. Bill knew how he worked, but refused to offer any hints. So the Theraprism staff had to guess at Bill's medical treatment.

But Bill was still made of energy, and even weakened he could eventually self-repair. So whenever his injury was exacerbated, the nurse tended to just patch up his exoskeleton to keep it stable enough to send him back to his room.

On top of his mysterious anatomy, the staff had no idea how to medicate his physiology. They knew he could be medicated—Bill's personal substance (ab)use experiments were notorious far outside the Nightmare Realm—but they had to treat him like a newly-discovered form of life in figuring out what affected him, how it affected him, and how much it took. He'd been on and off hundreds of drugs as they tried to chemically stabilize a mind for which they had no idea what baseline stability looked like. D-SM5 had told him that between the enormous doses needed to impact his energy-based physiology and the vast variety of drugs he'd been through, Bill's medication regimen was the most expensive in the Theraprism. He took some pride in that.

He had very few things to take pride in anymore. He clung to what meager victories he could.

If Bill got his way, he wouldn't be medicated at all. None of the substances they wanted him on were what he'd call recreational. (Although for a while he had gotten away with not telling the docs that one of his antipsychotics had given him a side-effect of kaleidoscopic hallucinations.) Plus there was the fact that he'd heard rumors that quite a few pharmaceutical execs were good pals with a certain director—not that Bill would name names, of course!—that's his motto, Don't Slander Maliciou5ly!

But when he resisted taking his meds, they could send in the guards to pin him down so a nurse could inject a sedative so strong he wouldn't remember anything that happened for the next few hours to months (hard to tell) until they started tapering it off... and although he'd rather die than admit it, after losing that fight five or six times, even he had to admit to himself it was a lot less scary to just take their rotten drugs. Better to go through his days with his mind dulled and hazy than blacked out altogether.

To retain what little pride he had left, he'd reached a compromise with his jailers.

When the nurse had finished attaching the reinforcing splints around Bill's injury, they grabbed a medication measurement cup, filled it halfway with syrupy eye drops, and double-checked Bill's chart as they dropped thirteen different pills (plus a fourteenth pill for a painkiller) in the cup.

As Bill redressed, he eyed the unappetizing cocktail of antidepressants, antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, and things he'd forgotten the purpose of but that probably weren't doing whatever the doctors hoped and definitely weren't doing anything Bill liked. "My straw?"

"Right, right." The nurse handed over one of the wide-diameter disposable white straws they kept on hand for patients who struggled to drink (or, in Bill's case, patients they struggled to get to drink).

Only a tiny fragment of Bill was actually locked up in the Theraprism—like pinching the glowing lure of an anglerfish in a trap while the rest of the fish thrashed outside—and because most of Bill's vast energy was elsewhere, he was nearly powerless. But he still had enough energy to heat up a finger, twist the straw around it, and hold it there until it had melted into a new shape.

The nurse sighed. "Do you have to do that every time? You ruin more straws than you get right."

Imperiously, Bill said, "Leave me to my whimsy." He tugged off the straw when it had cooled down to examine the corkscrew shape he'd made. The wall was a little flattened in one place, but he could pinch it back open. "See? It's perfect!" Cheerfully ignoring the nurse, he stuck the straw in his cup and slurped down his pills like tapioca balls. He tried not to remember what was in them.

A-AOX4 had left Bill with the nurse, but the two mall cops with medical kinks known as Bill's personal guards were still waiting nearby. The nurse's office was next door to the cafeteria—for ease of patients picking up their medications at meal times—in an anteroom that was connected to the rest of the ward by a set of locked double doors. A couple of guards were stationed near those doors at all times, and generally the guards assigned to Bill hung around with them while Bill was in the cafeteria or nurse's office. Bill floated up to them, regarding them with the disinterest of a king ignoring the servants he expected to open doors for him, and continued to ignore them as they escorted him back to his cell, one in front and one behind, while he sipped on his drugged cocktail.

The Dimensional Tyrant Ward was already one of the most heavily-guarded wards in the Theraprism; but to reach the maximum security cells, a patient had to pass several increasingly heavy security checkpoints with increasingly impenetrable security doors. The final door was warded against all magic, unhackable, unbreakable, and so airtight that even without his exoskeleton there was no gap Bill's 2D form could slide through. The doors to each cell—outfitted with tiny one-way mirror portholes, no latches or hinges on the inside—were a little less heavy duty, but packed with just as many failsafes. The Dimensional Tyrant Ward's max security hall had the most advanced security architecture of any psychiatric facility in the multiverse.

Bill had made a trillion year career of trying to break his way through a door nobody wanted him to go through. He could think of seven different ways to get through the doors. Sooner or later he'd find a way out of this place altogether.

A few of the doors had modifications: this one with a metal slab over the porthole to protect passersby from the occupant's petrifying gaze, that one with extra soundproofed padding coating the door. Bill was almost insulted his own door didn't warrant any special modifications.

His favorite door was The Beast's. A comfortingly yellow triangular sign on the door displayed a black symbol of a steak. Red signs above and below read "CAUTION! FEED UNSEASONED MEAT ONLY." "NO SUGAR ALLOWED." The Beast's heavy snuffing was audible through the door; his hot, sickly sweet breath seeped through the slot in the door that had been installed to deliver his food.

Bill's escorts automatically drifted to the far side of the hall to avoid The Beast. Bill, whose first medication was already starting to kick in, zigzagged lazily back and forth across the hall, heedless of how close he came to The Beast's cell.

Bill had never seen this door opened once in all his time incarcerated, and the dust settled on the additional chains and padlocks stretched across the door showed just how long it had been since the last incident. But some of the patients who'd been here longer than Bill still couldn't bring themselves to speak of the last time he'd escaped. Elder eldritch gods shuddered and gibbered nervously at the mention of his name. 

Bill tilted over to try to peer through the food slot at The Beast. A quivering, sickly blue eye stared back at him. Honestly, Bill thought The Beast was adorable.

Outside Bill's door, the guards waited for Bill to finish his medicine, hand over his cup and straw, and open his mouth and lift his eye out of the way so they could check and make sure he'd swallowed them.

And then he was left in his cell.

####

A perfect cube of uniform dull grey tiles supernaturally lit by a uniform dull grey glow, no light source, no shadows; in a max security room in the Maximum Security Wellness Center, patients weren't even trusted around light fixtures. The staff had removed everything Bill had used thus far to commit violence or attempt escape, plus a few more things as punishments for various infractions: journal, paint, pens, books, magazines, puppets (he missed those the most), even the furniture. He'd never earned the privilege of a TV or radio. By now, all he was permitted were black, red, yellow, and blue dry erase markers to draw on his walls—and the red and blue had gone dry; the "Be a TRY-angle!" poster they'd replaced whenever Bill left the room until he gave up and stopped tearing it down; and the clothes on his back. He'd gradually gotten himself banned from every extracurricular and recreational activity the Dimensional Tyrant Ward offered. Whenever he was fresh out of the SWV, when his restrictions were highest, his schedule consisted of mandatory individual therapy, mandatory group therapy, med checks, and the cafeteria.

He spent the vast majority of his time in his cell, sitting curled up alone, day after night after day, barely moving, barely talking, barely eating, waiting for nothing at all.

####

The seamless door swung open and admitted an Orb of Healing Light.

Bill blinked blearily up at the Orb. It was hard to tell how slowly time passed here, but he was sure it couldn't have been more than a couple hours since he'd been returned to his cell: that was when his medications made his mind the foggiest. "Emmyyy. Where ya been? Didn't see you when I came out of the Solitary Dullness Void. Nice of you to, uh..." A second ago he'd had a clever quip about how D-SM5 had clearly dropped by because it missed Bill, but he'd forgotten how to word it.

"Well, I'm here now. I'm flattered you missed me, Mr. Cipher."

Bill blinked heavily. "You turned that around on me," he griped. "Not fair." Ugh, the room was spinning. He flopped on his back.

"A-AOX4 tells me you showed an interest earlier in our outpatient reincarnation program," D-SM5 said. "Since it looks like your schedule is light these days, I thought you might be interested in attending Paingoreous's reincarnation?"

It took him a moment to process the offer. "Really? That's something people can attend?" What was the catch?

"We usually only extend the offer to the departing patient's friends, and—exemplary patients. But... I thought you might benefit from watching the process for yourself. It may encourage you to take a little more interest in your future."

For it to push a possible lead so fast, it really was desperate to find some leverage they could use on Bill. It probably thought of this as a rare opportunity—a patient from Ward 333 wasn't ready for reincarnation every day.

"Wow. I sure am encouraged," Bill said. "You have no idea just how encouraged I am."

####

If an unambitious office building and a utilitarian hospital reluctantly got married out of a vague sense of heteronormative social obligation, had a depressed child, and the fae spirited it away to replace it with an even more depressed changeling child, the child's small intestines would look a lot like the Theraprism's interior hallways: it was windowless, it was labyrinthine, it was beige, and it was grey, and it didn't even care anymore. Monotonous commercial high-traffic carpet alternated with monotonous commercial high-traffic linoleum. The fluorescent lights buzzed just enough to be annoying, but not quite enough that you'd feel justified in snapping and screaming "I've had it!" as you swung a pleather-seated metal chair at the light fixture.

Even though Bill had been languishing in the Theraprism for hours and/or millennia (Bill couldn't tell; he couldn't feel the passage of time), he hardly knew his way around the Dimensional Tyrant Ward, much less the rest of the facility. As D-SM5 led Bill (and six guards) out of Ward 333 and into a lower security zone, he looked for any scant identifiable landmarks and tried to memorize which turns they took by coding the lefts and rights and ups and downs into a mnemonic word. The walk helped wake him from his medication stupor; but his mind never quite felt fully on.

Bill had only briefly glimpsed the Theraprism's reincarnation unit during intake, just one of many rooms he'd been whisked past as he was dragged to Ward 333 screaming and cursing the Axolotl's name. Entering the unit now, it looked like an occult sacrificial altar carved from marble that had been modeled after a 23rd century starship's teleportation platform, contained in a room that looked like a magic planetarium: glowing stars hovered around the dome of the ceiling. Against the back wall in pale pink marble was carved an impossibly long axolotl, swimming in a figure 8 so its vapid smile almost caught the tip of its ribbonlike tail. Bill glowered at it. Backstabber.

He, D-SM5, and the other observers who'd already arrived were in a connected observation room with an enormous, thick window and a sealed door. Next to the window was a large computer console encased in the same marble as the reincarnation altar. That probably controlled the process.

The audience consisted of three aliens who looked a little like Paingoreous might have with his face unpeeled, a few patients and staff Bill recognized, more he didn't, and Jessica with the shining spherical head and the thirteen fingers. Oh boy. If he'd known Jessica would be here he would have tried to polish. Bill straightened his bow tie and smoothed his rumpled orange jumpsuit.

Paingoreous himself was already in the next room, standing on the altar. At the sight of Bill, his exposed facial muscles twitched, as though trying to widen his eyes even though their eyelids were already long gone. "Bill? What are you doing here?"

D-SM5 answered before Bill could blurt out a witty retort. "I invited Mr. Cipher. I thought he would benefit from seeing what he can look forward to once he's improved. I hope you don't mind."

Paingoreous's face immediately smoothed out. "Yes—of course, director, if you say so. I remember how difficult it was in the early days. I'm happy to help my fellow patients in any way I can." Suck up. A dry note entered his voice, "Especially a more troubled patient."

Bill took one of the folding chairs lined up in front of the window and shot back, "I'm about to have one less trouble! Byyye!" (Did Jessica think that was funny? Sometimes she did. He snuck a sideways glance to see if she was laughing. Oh, right—she didn't have a face.)

Paingoreous didn't dignify him with a response. Too good for the likes of Bill, no doubt. Paingoreous wasn't obligated to answer anybody—except the staff, of course.

Bill had never met the real Paingoreous. By the time Bill was committed, the monotony, medication, and mandatory therapy were already well on their way to killing whoever Paing had once been. No way the offensively bland sap leaving now was the same one who'd come in with his face skinned and muscles pinned open.

A technician was already turning on the computer console, running through a whole list of checks as the machine booted up. A hum filled the room as the altar began to softly glow. To all appearances Bill was facing forward, slitted pupil aimed straight at Paingoreous; but his anatomy was built for watching things out of the corner of his eye and his real attention was focused on the reincarnation technician. "So how's reincarnation work in this dump?" Bill asked D-SM5. "I didn't get the orientation."

"Yes you did," D-SM5 said. "I was there."

"Oh yeah? Well, I don't remember seeing you."

D-SM5 sighed. "First, Paingoreous's memories of his current life must be erased, to give him the best fresh start possible and to comply with Earth's soul sanitization regulations."

"Seems like a big waste of time. His head's already empty enough."

One of the Paing-ish aliens a couple seats over shot Bill a dirty look. "That's my son in there."

"Not for much longer, he isn't."

"Be respectful," D-SM5 said warningly.

Bill ignored it. "So once you've scrubbed his brain clean, what then?"

"Then, we reincarnate him. We've already carefully selected his destination and species; except for special circumstances, we generally don't customize the patient's body further, as the program is already set up to divinely design the body most well-suited to the soul about to inhabit it."

"If these bodies are so perfect, why customize them at all?"

"We wouldn't want, say, a recovering pyromaniac to be reborn with pyrokinesis." (Bill felt unfairly targeted.) "Once his species and destination are entered into the program, off he'll go to start his new life as an egg."

"An egg?! Sheesh, wasn't going through childhood once bad enough? I assume his childhood was bad, anyway! Nobody with competent parents ends up like him."

The Paing-ish alien beside Bill bolted out of their seat and lurched aggressively toward Bill. (Ha. Too easy.) The next alien over tugged them back by the arm. Bill was sure he heard a whispered, "Careful, do you know who that..." 

D-SM5 said, "One more crack like that and you're going back to your cell."

"Fiiine. Why can't he skip straight to being a butterfly, though?" What he really wanted to find out was how to skip straight to adulthood.

"For starters, because spontaneous generation has been heavily restricted on Earth since the 15th century, and banned completely outside of special circumstances since the 19th century."

Spontaneous generation. The creation of fully formed life from unliving matter: maggots that emerged from flesh, geese that emerged from barnacles, snakes and crocodiles that wriggled out of the mud of the Nile. He'd always planned to legalize it again when he took over. So if the only reason the Theraprism couldn't do it was because it was banned, then they must have the technology for it, right?

Bill tuned D-SM5 out as it prattled on about the mental health benefits of restarting life and beginner's mind and boring therapeutic psychobabble, and ignored the flashing lights and divine music as Paingoreous's memory, personality, and identity were all wiped clean. He was only interested in what the reincarnation technician was doing. (Although when Bill briefly glanced at Paingoreous, his shape seemed somehow uncertain, as though his molecules had only just walked into the room and promptly forgotten what they'd come in for or who they were supposed to be. Ready to be reshaped into something else.)

The technician opened up the primary reincarnation program, checked a box confirming that the patient's previous incarnation had been erased, and began setting up the specifications for his next incarnation. Choosing the reincarnation world was easy enough: under the drop down menu, the "Goldilocks zone" worlds were sorted first. Earth was sixth on the list. Choosing a dimension was just as easy.

However, choosing the location and time period looked more complicated; rather than searching through a handy list of continents or geological epochs, the technician checked Paingoreous's patient file and typed a couple of long strings of numbers into the blanks for the coordinates and time. They didn't look like any date system or coordinate system Bill was familiar with. How the heck would he work with that?

And selecting the species, to Bill's horror, meant scrolling down a menu ordered by how frequently a species had been selected for reincarnation at this facility. That was insane! The Theraprism always discharged patients as unambitious species where one member was nearly incapable of making a meaningful impact on the local biosphere—anything useful like an octopus or a goat would be buried amongst the literal billions of species that had received zero reincarnations. Couldn't you just start typing the species's name to jump down to—? But no, the Theraprism's keyboard didn't have characters to type human loan words. The technician seemed to be scrolling manually.

That was fine! That was fine. Whatever Bill left as, he wouldn't be it for very long. He wasn't shopping for a makeover; just for an escape pod.

The technician located Vanessa atalanta (147 prior reincarnations) and kept moving, tabbing past a dizzying array of options—sex, size, coloration, visual clarity, caterpillar spine distribution, a whole list of health conditions and mutations the technician skipped—and every box she tabbed past automatically filled in with the word "DEFAULT". How many boxes could be filled in with defaults?

Bill leaned toward D-SM5. "So do you chuck these suckers out anywhere random on the planet or what?"

"Of course not," it said promptly. "What a thought! We take a deep interest in our discharged patients' well-being. We never leave where they spend their next lives at the whim of the computer's randomized decision." 

But they could leave it up to the computer. Still watching sideways as the technician scrolled past an "advanced settings" button without touching it (was that where the spontaneous generation option was hidden?), Bill asked, "Do youalways choose for the patient, or can the patient make requests?"

Dryly, D-SM5 said, "Unless you make some enormous progress, I doubt you'd get clearance to reincarnate anywhere near that town you terrorized, if that's what you're wondering."

"What! Who said I want to visit that crummy valley! All those mountains and trees? Ugh! No, do you know what kind of place I like? The Greater Cairo metropolitan area. Dry! Sandy! Flat!" said Bill, who detested flat landscapes with all his heart. "Covered in pyramids! Sometimes with my face on them! Plus there's the Nile! I love the Nile! I love being in the Nile! I'd spend all my time in the Nile if I could! I've had some loser ex-friends say that living your whole life in the Nile is an unhealthy coping mechanism to avoid addressing problems in your life, but if you ask me they're just jealous of how amazing my life is—"

"Ready for reincarnation," the technician said. "Proceed?"

D-SM5 left its seat, hovering closer to the glass to catch Paingoreous's attention. "Are you ready?"

"Sure," said Paingoreous, who clearly wasn't certain what he was claiming to be ready for.

"Proceed," D-SM5 said. Bill fell silent, paying close attention to how the technician began the reincarnation process.

She clicked a button that said "EXECUTE" (gruesome), clicked through a couple more confirmation screens, and then the faint background hum grew to a rumble and the magical stars glowed brighter. "Ten seconds," she said. "Nine... eight... seven..."

"Hey!" Bill shouted through the glass. "Friendly tip for Earth! Humans love when you fly into their eyeballs! You should do that!"

D-SM5 rounded on Bill, glowing furiously at him. (Maybe it was Bill's imagination, but he thought Jessica looked amused. Worth it.)

The soon-to-be caterpillar formerly known as Paingoreous stared in confusion at Bill. "Okay," he said—and then there was a bright flash of light.

He let out an awful wail of pure soul-rending agony.

When the light faded, he was gone.

The observation room had fallen perfectly silent.

"That's fine," D-SM5 said. "That's—that's normal."

####

Every once in a while, the Theraprism got something right. It was one of the few big government-sponsored "respectable" institutions that didn't make a fuss about how Bill ate. They just let him go to the cafeteria, strip down, unpeel his exoskeleton, and hang out with the photosynthesizers for half an hour or so in the corner under the grow lights. No gasps of horror or screams of outrage—not from the staff anyway; some of the patients took a bit to get used to it when they were new. It was a refreshing change.

On the other hand, even though they were willing to turn a couple lights high enough to melt most mortals' eyeballs when Bill was feeding, he never left feeling truly energized. The grow lights were designed for species with leaves and solar panels; they weren't designed to fuel up a god made of energy. A few bright lightbulbs didn't measure up to raw starlight.

He figured there wasn't any point in complaining. As much as he hated feeling like a gas tank trying to burn a dust mote for fuel, he knew that they knew that long before he even reached 1% of his usual power, he'd be strong enough to vaporize the Theraprism with the snap of a finger.

When he'd had his daily dose of light, he folded shut, redressed, and drifted over to the actual food for dessert. He grabbed a bottle of an allegedly "lemon" nigh-flavorless clear soda—this would do—and hovered toward the exit.

The cafeteria monitor stationed in the door elbowed her way in front of Bill. "Ahem."

"What?"

"You know the rules. No food outside the cafeteria."

"What! This isn't food, it's a soda. Beverages aren't food, everyone knows that." The monitor didn't budge. Bill tried whining. "C'mooon, I got injured in the void today. Look at this!" He gestured demonstratively at his splints. "Look how much pain I'm in!"

The Solitary Wellness Void made this cafeteria monitor uncomfortable. She'd never said so directly, but she tended to turn a blind eye when patients who'd just come out of the SWV were more aggressive than usual or tried to sneak extra desserts. One time when Bill had come out of a week in the SWV, she'd wordlessly slipped him a couple of packets of low-sodium fear sauce, a condiment usually distributed exclusively to the obligate phobophages in the ward. "Besides, it's my birthday! I'm a birthday triangle! You wouldn't deny a birthday triangle a soda, right?"

"Is it really your birthday?"

"Heck if I know. It could be. I don't know it isn't."

She was trying not to smile. "Fine. Just one time. Don't let anyone catch you with it and finish it before you're back in your cell."

"You got it, toots." Bill glided past her.

He slipped from the cafeteria into the nurse's office before his guards could catch sight of his illicit drink. "Hey, bartender! I'm here for my nightcap."

The nurse prepared Bill's evening battery of drugs. He bent his straw into a fun zigzag—honestly it was really more of a sad N shape—slurped down half the eyedrops, and opened his soda to refill his cup.

The nurse looked over at the hiss of the cap opening. "Hey! Hey—"

"It's just soda!" Bill protested. "The cafeteria monitor said it was fine! Besides, what's a little soda gonna do? Nullify all seven of my antipsychotics before I reach my cell?" (Bill had overheard the nurse grumbling to a colleague about the amount of antipsychotics he was on. They thought it was utterly excessive, considering that they'd had no evidence the drugs were doing anything but making him more erratic—which was something, because Bill had seen patients near drooling catatonia from their meds without any of the nurses questioning their current dosage. Conversely, the docs thought Bill's odd biology meant they needed to give him more if they wanted any hope of impacting him.) "Come on. It's not even caffeinated!"

The nurse took the soda bottle to check the ingredient list, then relented. "Fine. I suppose it won't do any harm."

"You're a peach." Bill topped off his cup, poured the rest of the soda over his eye, crushed the bottle, and consumed it too.

"The plastic probably isn't good for you, though."

"I like the way it melts in the back of my throat."

As he drank his medicated soda and got escorted back to his cell, he lazily drifted back and forth in the hall as far as the guards would let him go, dawdling more than usual—he knew they hated it when he dawdled, but they knew he hated spending one second more in his cell than necessary and grudgingly put up with a little lollygagging to keep the peace. But their tolerance ran out in the max security hall as Bill slowed down even further near The Beast's cell. The guard behind Bill pushed him. "Hurry up." 

"Hey!" Bill wobbled off path and stumbled into the wall, spilling some of his drink. "What's your problem!"

"You stopped moving."

"I did not! I'm just taking my time! Enjoying the weather out here."

"Well, take less time."

"Ugh, fine. Didn't realize you had plans I'm keeping you from." Bill rolled his eye and kept moving.

"Hold it!"

Bill froze. He turned around. The guard was pointing at a streak of clear fluid that had spilled from Bill's cup and rolled down the door. His bones frosted over.

"You dropped a pill," the guard said.

Bill's gaze focused on the circular soap-green tablet on the floor. "Are you kidding?! Aren't the other twelve enough?"

"No exceptions, Cipher."

"You don't expect me to eat it off the floor!"

"Do you want to go all the way back to the nurse's office for another?"

Bill groaned in frustration. "Fine!" He snatched it up, wiped it off on the guard's sleeve, and popped it in his mouth. The guard raised a fist; Bill bared his fangs; and after a tense moment, the guard backed down first. The Theraprism had taken nearly every other power from Bill, but it couldn't take his teeth—and though he knew the guards would win any fight, Bill could make it hurt.

They returned him to his room; Bill handed over his cup; they checked to make sure his cup was empty, inspected his mouth, and locked him in.

He hoped they wouldn't notice that half his pills had stuck in the zig-zag bend of the opaque white straw.

He hoped they wouldn't notice The Beast's tongue thrusting through his food slot to lap up the spilled soda that was running down his door and over the bright red "NO SUGAR ALLOWED" sign.

His entire plan hinged on it.

####

Bill was drawing on the wall with his scant art supplies when he felt reality ripple around him, like the wave in a still pool when someone new quietly slides into the water. He looked up from his work. It was happening.

There were several thuds; then a crash; and then the peal of a prison alarm piercing the air. The alarm melted into shrill dolphin-like laughter, and then the frenetic staccato of a hyper speed dance song that threatened to fracture Bill's internal organs. He shuddered as the sound tore at his wound like freezing ice crystals expanding a crack in a boulder.

But he rose into the air and turned to face the door, ready.

Just in time for the door to vanish. The Theraprism melted away like mist in the sunlight—and oh, the sunlight was glorious. The wide open sky pulsed maddening colors so vivid that the faraway rainbows looked monotone in comparison; the land consisted of rolling hills of candy-coated tongues and stomachs and muscles, the paws of enormous buried corpses thrusting up into the sky, the crevasses between burial mounds running with artificially-flavored saliva. It was Bill's kind of place. He wished he had time to hang around.

Before him, orange fur matted with a fine dust of powdery sugar, wild eyes contracted to pinpricks, stood The Beast.

"You did it, you beautiful monster!" Bill shrieked with laughter. "I knew you'd come through!"

The Beast rumbled, "Em deerf evah uoy."

"You're welcome! You can return the favor later! Me, I have somewhere to be." While The Beast was asserting his personal reality on top of the Theraprism's idea of reality, none of the Theraprism's walls or doors existed. Bill wasn't sure exactly how far The Beast's radius of influence extended, except that it was at least far enough to get him out of the maximum security hall—but he had to move now, before the guards rallied to sedate The Beast. Bill slipped a finger into the band of his ankle bracelet and found that under the influence of The Beast's physics, the stiff plastic stretched like a warm rubber band. He tugged it off and tossed it aside. "Seeya, pal!"

But The Beast held up a paw, blocking Bill before he could zip off. "Noob ym tpecca," The Beast said. "Hself ym emusnoc."

"Oooh. Woww." Bill looked at The Beast's candy paw. "Oh, man. Generous offer! You have no idea how tempting it is to take a taste, but I've really gotta get somewhere, and I've gotta be at least sober enough to pull that off..."

"Emusnoc," The Beast insisted. "Hsur ragus eht fo ssendam gnilims citatsce eht ni em nioj. Rehtegot srorroh letsap dna serusaelp kcis hcus wonk lliw ew. Evarg lufituaeb ym ni em htiw tor."

Bill stared again at the paw. The tip of his tongue slipped out beneath his eye to lick hungrily at his waterline. When was the last time he'd been on something that felt good? "Oh, what the heck!" He took The Beast's paw. "I can do this buzzed! How much damage can one little lick do, anyway?"

####

The guard heaved open the maximum security hall's door. The floor was covered in tacky pools of neon candy and removed ankle monitors. "It's just like we feared," the guard shouted into a walkie-talkie, glancing quickly through each cell door's window. "Every single max security patient escaped under The Beast's reality-altering field."

The guard stopped at the sight of neon yellow and orange, peering through the window at the triangle flopped flat on the ground and surrounded by powdery pink sugar.

"Well," the guard said, "all of them except Cipher."

Through the walkie-talkie, D-SM5 tiredly said, "He licked the paw, didn't he."

"Looks like it, boss."

D-SM5 groaned. "All right! Positive thinking! That's the second biggest threat in the ward already accounted for! Silver lining to Mr. Cipher's substance use issues. Assist in securing the others."

####

The good news was that The Beast seemed happy to frolic randomly around the Theraprism rather than head toward the exit, forcing the other escapees to follow along to remain under his reality-altering protection rather than get stranded in small rooms and locked-down halls. The bad news was that his meandering route let him pick up more and more revelers. After an hour, only a third of the max security patients had been re-captured and dragged back to their cells, and twice as many medium security patients had joined the riot. 

A-AOX4 was on hand in the maximum security hall to supervise as the guards brought in super-powered escapees. Most of them came back loopy on either The Beast's toxins or on the sedative that had been injected to keep them calm. A-AOX4 was checking them for awareness of their surroundings—name, where are you, when are you, why are you here—as each one was locked back in their cell.

And each time it passed by Bill's cell, it glanced in, concerned.

Bill had been almost pleasant when he'd come out of the Solitary Wellness Void—maybe after all those sessions in isolation he was finally ready to be more of a team player. And D-SM5 had said that he'd been unusually well-behaved and attentive during the reincarnation. A-AOX4 had hoped their most surly patient was finally opening up. It would be a shame if this incident with The Beast resulted in his new progress backsliding.

Plus, it took a heavy dose of anything to impact Bill at all, much less knock him out cold. He'd already had to go to the nurse earlier today; what if he needed medical attention?

So after locking up the latest subdued prisoner, A-AOX4 said to one of the guards, "Take over monitoring incoming patients. I'm checking on Cipher."

It unlocked the door and hovered into the room. "Cipher?"

No response. He was plastered flat to the floor.

"Bill?" It floated lower to check his condition. 

He was paper.

Paper meticulously colored in with yellow marker and folded into a triangle; scraps of paper colored black, carefully torn into hand and feet shapes, and shoved in the sleeves and pants of his prison uniform.

A-AOX4 lifted up the paper. On the other side was Bill's "Be a TRY-angle!" poster. He'd written across it, "IS THIS TRYING HARD ENOUGH FOR YOU?"

It turned toward the door—and discovered Bill had filled the wall with a drawing of himself making an obscene gesture, with a word bubble that read, "GIVE MY REGARDS TO THE AX! And tell Jessica I said bye xoxo"

It zoomed out into the hallway and grabbed its walkie-talkie. "Director SM5! Cipher's escaped his cell! He left a decoy! He's not with The Beast, we don't know where he is!"

There was a moment of dead air. And then the director growled, "I think I have an idea."

####

Trying to keep his giggles as quiet as possible, Bill looped through the Theraprism's halls, drifting between The Beast's rolling fields of hard candy corpses and the Theraprism's rigid monotone halls. What had he been worried about! Getting hopped up on astralplanar sugar before escaping his cell had been a great idea! It gave him instant shortcuts through half the walls! And he could handle a little buzz like this! He was totally in control of his actions and knew exactly what he—

How long had he been flying the wrong direction? He turned around. Wow was he high, he could barely focus on anything but all the colors. He wondered if The Beast's toxins had any weird interactions with his meds.

He was lucky The Beast had decided to dawdle around the Dimensional Tyrants Ward: here at the far end of the Theraprism, there were no signs of crisis beyond the sealed doors indicating the facility was under lockdown—and once he was outside a high security ward, there were plenty of cracks, gaps, and vents that Bill was thin enough to slide through. He hadn't even seen a guard since he'd left his cell. By the time he reached the reincarnation room, The Beast's landscape was fading out and the sugar crash headache was fading in, but the facility was still on lockdown and no one seemed to be looking for Bill. He slipped beneath the locked door and powered up the console to the reincarnation machine.

He skipped straight to the reincarnation program and checked the box that said, yes, the patient's brain had been washed. He paused when a warning pop-up blocked the screen. The technician hadn't gotten a pop-up. He had to read over the two-sentence warning three times before he understood what he was looking at. The soul sanitization routine hadn't been run recently, was he sure the patient's memory was erased—ugh, yes. He irritably clicked the confirmation and hoped that would be the last of it.

Bill quickly selected Earth and dimension 46'\; he tabbed past the coordinates and date, and they both automatically filled in "DEFAULT." D-SM5 had said the computer would make a "random" decision if you didn't plug in a time and place, but the staff didn't know Earth like Bill did. If he left the time and place up to the whims of fate, then something as weird as a trillion-year-old alien chaos god escaping a criminal insane asylum to spontaneously generate as a fully grown mortal would be sucked straight into the weirdest place and time on Earth. Gravity Falls: August, 2012. Weirdmageddon. He was willing to bet his life on it.

He was betting his life on it.

After that, with any luck, he'd be able to shed his new body like any other puppet and return to his castle in the sky. If for some reason he couldn't get out of it, he'd only need to pull a couple of magic tricks outside a normal mortal's capabilities to catch his past self's attention, find a way to prove his identity—heck, with any luck, they'd be seeing through each other's eyes and that would instantly confirm it—warn his past self about the Pines' treachery, prevent his own death, save Weirdmageddon, restructure the universe in his image, and rule his new party paradise as god-king for all eternity. Easy.

He scrolled down the list of available creatures, looking for something that would be easy to reach the Fearamid and prove his intelligence with—something with vocal cords that could speak eye-bat would be useful, it'd save him a lot of trouble if he could just shout at his sentinels in their own language and startle them into listening—but, to his surprise, the first useful species he found was humans, down amongst the species that had received a single-digit number of reincarnations from the Theraprism. Really, humans? They allowed that?

Over the blaring alarm, a voice made an announcement. He completely tuned it out—and only realized a moment after it ended that he'd heard his own name. They knew he'd escaped.

Bill didn't have time to search for anything better. He selected humanity.

He tabbed past dozens of features he could choose from for his body—default default default default—who cared what the body peed out of, he wasn't keeping the thing long enough to fill its bladder! He clicked open the advanced settings—there, spontaneous generation! He hoped this thing wouldn't drop him on the sidewalk as a baby, but usually when a human suddenly popped into existence, it was an adult sculpted from clay or something, right? He'd be fine! He checked the box for spontaneous generation.

He got another error message. He groaned. He wasn't sober enough for this.

Something about spontaneous generation being banned on Earth after 1859, is he willing to assume the liability if the patient generates after—yeah sure whatever, he clicked yes. Another pop-up prompted him for the digital signature of the person assuming liability. He typed in D-SM5's name.

As soon as he clicked enter, another error message popped up. "What!!"

He flinched at the sound of a muffled pneumatic hiss. Outside, somebody had unlocked the doors to this hallway. The alarm was still blaring; the Theraprism wasn't coming off lockdown. That meant whoever had unlocked the hall was coming for him.

"Focusss." He skimmed the new warning. Something about humans being on a list of species for which spontaneous generation was restricted—what loser had written a law about that! Who cared if a fully-formed, brand-new human popped out of thin air in the middle of town! What about Bill's wants?! He checked another box YES HE'S SURE HE WANTS TO SPONTANEOUSLY GENERATE A HUMAN YOU MONSTER and pounded enter.

Another pop-up. It wanted to know on which god's authority the spontaneous generation had been authorized.

Bill froze. Why did it need to know. Would it check? A machine that could reincarnate a soul was probably also a machine that could shoot off a prayer. Or was Bill supposed to have some kind of divine authorization code? Which gods were even allowed to authorize that kind of thing? He didn't know which stupid legislative body had made this stupid law or what their stupid definition of a god was! Gods weren't even real, they were just stupid, arrogant, stuck-up jerks who were powerful enough to trick people into thinking they were important! Like Bill! What name were they looking for?!

He heard voices in the hallway. He darted over to the door, slid his fingers through the seams around the doorframe to crush the latching mechanism so it couldn't be opened, and darted back. That wouldn't hold them long; he knew from experience that the guards could bust down the doors in these low security wings without much difficulty.

"Bill Cipher!" That was D-SM5. It had come personally? In any other circumstance, he'd be flattered. "Open up immediately!"

"Has that ever worked?" A god, a god, a god... his eye caught on the bas relief at the back of the next room. If there was any god this place would accept orders from... The guards were ramming the door; the bending metal groaned. He typed "THE AXOLOTL" and hit enter.

The button grayed out but the pop-up didn't go away. The screen froze. "What." Bill tried clicking again. The cursor turned into one of those little spinning balls that meant the computer was quietly having a stroke. "No no no no—"

D-SM5 hollered, "You know what the consequences will be if you don't—"

"I'm not listeniiing to yooou!"

"You're only going to hurt yourse—"

Dropping his voice to a demonic boom to drown out the director, Bill recited, "'I believe that on the first night I went to Gatsby's house I was one of the few guests who had actually been invited! People were not—" There was a shriek of tearing metal, and then a bright glow behind Bill as D-SM5 peered through the gap in the door. Bill started talking faster, "'Were not invited they went there they got into automobiles which bore them out to Long Island and somehow—'"

The pop-up disappeared. The cursor returned to normal. The box next to spontaneous generation was checked. Bill stared for a split second, then quickly closed out the advanced settings, scrolled to the bottom of the page, and hit "EXECUTE."

Someone blasted the door out of its frame; based on the blinding glow that accompanied the blast, Bill suspected that wasn't one of the guards, but D-SM5 itself. He frantically clicked through the next two confirmations, flung a couple of folding chairs toward D-SM5 and its thugs, and dove beneath the door to the next room. Ten seconds.

"Cancel the reincarnation!" D-SM5 snapped.

A guard ran to the console. (What if they saw where Bill had gone? They could probably guess the planet, but would the computer keep records of his destination, what his new body looked like—) "I don't see a cancel! I don't think—"

"Then get him off the altar!"

Five seconds. Please spawn as an adult and not a baby, please spawn as an adult and not a baby, please— Bill hadn't broken the door between the observation room and the altar; the guards easily unlocked it. "No no no—!"

"Don't let him esc—!"

Three seconds. An impossibly bright light shone down on Bill. He reflexively peeled open his exoskeleton to accept it. LIGHT—oh, he felt even more alive than the time he'd stolen a bottle of stimulants from the nurse station, ground them up, and snorted them off Mrs. Mirrorcube's back. His eye widened, taking in as much free energy as he could—and then he focused his gaze through the window on the console, focusing the infinite light into a laser powerful enough to instantly melt through the window and explode the computer. The guards fell back, trying to shield their tender mortal flesh from the fury of Bill's fire. Enjoy the blisters.

D-SM5 bellowed, "Bill Cipher, you mo—!"

"CATCH ME IF YOU CAN, SUCKA!" He could feel his body ripping apart, cracking open at the wound. It hurt, but not the hurt of dying; it was the euphoric hurt of spaghettification, of being infinitely sucked beyond a beautiful event horizon. Bill's triumphant cackle filled the air—

—and then the room was silent and dark, and Bill was gone.

####

(If you're new here: I posted this as a one shot because I think we could all use a little Bill escaping from Theraprism, yeah? However it's ALSO part of my ongoing Bill-stuck-in-a-human-body fic I'm currently editing for TBOB compatibility. So, if you enjoyed this and want to see where post-reincarnation Bill goes, check out the fic!! And if you DON'T want to read the rest of the fic, I hope you enjoyed the one shot and I'd love to hear your thoughts.

If you do check out the main fic be forewarned it's only 100% TBOB compatible up to chapter 6. After that it is, bizarrely, 98% TBOB compatible, because somehow I accidentally wrote a fic that lines up with the book so well that I'm legit worried people could use TBOB to work out fic spoilers. But I still need to edit the remaining 2%.

If you're NOT new here: hey gang this is the new chapter 6!!! I finished editing this chapter about fifteen minutes before post time so it's not as polished as my usual chapters, but I hope it didn't read that way. Anyway, I look forward to hearing what y'all think!)

[soft-beams]

piercer!vi x f!reader, modern day

you come in for a piercing and vi's instantly smitten.

part 1 | part 2

Vi's seen a lot of tits in her day; she's a piercer, and one could say it's a part of the job description. So it's nothing new to her—it's all become anatomical at this point.

But your tits?

Holy shit, your tits are the prettiest she's ever seen. They look so soft; so plush and beautifully curved. With pretty nipples perked due to the slight chill in the room; it's embarrassing how they make Vi's mouth water a bit. How they make her feel the need to take them into her mouth and suck until you're writhing and crying out her name—

"Vi?" You call out again, snapping Vi out of her dazed thoughts. She blinks, taking a moment to clear her head before she's able to look you in the eye and oh.

You seem...shy almost, evading her gaze with a slight tilt of your head. Your hands are curled into the hem of your top, still holding it above your chest, and it's such a sight of vulnerability that Vi feels herself losing a little more of her sanity. But she's a professional, damn it, and she's gotta act like it.

Clearing her throat, Vi manages a smile and tries to switch her focus to less devious thoughts. Like doing this piercing and letting you go on your merry way, beautiful tits all freshly pierced and—

Oops, her mind has wandered again.

"Sorry," she apologises sheepishly. "I had something on my mind that distracted me for a second."

"Oh," you reply, looking a bit calmer. "...everything okay?"

No, Vi thinks as she says, "Just peachy," with a grin before reaching for a marker. "Okay, so I'm gonna dot where the needle's going to go through and make sure the piercings will be even."

You nod. "Sounds good," you reply, returning her grin, and Vi gets to work.

It's easy to slip into the frame of mind she needs to be in. Because at the end of the day, she prides herself on her work and wants to do a good job. Especially for you because despite only knowing you for so little time, Vi knows you're deserving of everything great and fantastic.

So she focuses, making sure to line up the dots evenly. She tries to ignore your sharp intake of breath when her gloved hands touch you to get the angle she needs. Does everything in her power to pretend she doesn't hear your quiet gasp when she marks up your nipples. Swallows heavily when she feels the slight shiver your body gives. Breathes in deeply when she notices the not-so discreet clenching of your thighs.

She hasn't even pierced you yet, hasn't even really touched, and you're already slowly falling to pieces.

Vi doesn't know if she'll survive this session.

"Okay," she manages, voice gone raspy. "Um, lay back for me, please."

You nod, slowly leaning back until you're laid down. At her mercy. Wide eyes peering up at her as you still grasp at the hem of your top, as if it's a lifeline.

You lick your lips, a quick flash of a pink tongue over soft flesh, and Vi tracks it greedily with her eyes.

"Will...it hurt?" You ask softly, even though it seems you know the answer. With the clenching of your thighs and shudder of your breath, it almost feels like you want it to hurt.

"Just a little bit," Vi says, just as soft. "It won't last long...okay, pretty girl?" The pet name slips out, but she doesn't regret it. No, she doesn't because she can see the darkening of your eyes and the move of your throat as you swallow.

"...okay," you murmur, and tilt your head all coy as you stare up at her. "P–please take care of me."

Vi's blood sets on fire.

"Don't worry, pretty girl," Vi murmurs back, moving her stool so she's in the best position for what she needs to do. She reaches for your chest, tenderly grabbing your right breast and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Maybe that's an accident, as if the way her thumb caresses the peak of your nipple so she can watch you shiver. Trap a whimper behind bitten lips.

"I'll take such good care of you."

a.n: please don't look at me but...there will be a part three, the finale. 😩

tagging @mar1posita @hellishdevotee @grapelover2000 @naomipeach @livvieloveswomen @weirdero @agnesemmi @angiexcoco @bella-72-23 @fantanbietsson @olivianotrodrigoo @nanasemo @marcylated @prwttiestbunny @chxrryvalxntine @obivari @nanajustnana-a @jaynawayna

[vampiefemme]

so, your best friend accidentally sent you a video of her masturbating. what now?

18+ below! smut smut smut!

ellie’s bedroom is heavy with the scent of sex, her fingers still pruned from her own wetness. she’s spent the last few minutes tense and panicked, too paralyzed with anxiety to get up and put some clothes on, and she’s considering what she’ll change her name to and where she’ll move to start a new life when you finally, finally text her back.

it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?

the weight on her chest eases a bit at your reassurance, but a new spark of uncertainty flares up at the second part of the message: give me a second to reply. jaw tight, she sends you a question mark, then follows up with you don’t have to respond. it’s probably better if you don’t?? again i’m so fucking sorry.

but as the minutes tick by, slow and lazed, she starts to panic again. her mind conjures every possible response you could send her next: an angry thesis statement on why ellie’s a disgusting pervert, a seething comment about how stupid she must be for sending a video like that so carelessly. would you ever look at her the same way? would things ever be the same?

all it takes is another notification from you to make every imagined worst-case scenario evaporate. ellie clicks the notification as soon as it pops up, chewing on the soft flesh of her inner lip.

it’s a video.

you sent her a video.

she hits the play button without a second thought, heartbeat thudding in her ears.

“i know you’re probably embarrassed,” you say, head tilting as you frown with sympathy. a blush paints ellie’s cheeks bright red. “but i need you to know how wet that made me.”

holding the camera up, you extend your arm outwards to reveal the rest of your body - your naked body, ellie realizes with a shock. she sits up in bed, back ramrod straight, her phone shaking as a nervous tremor strikes through her. but she can’t look away - not when you’re tracing a hand down the soft curves of your body, fingertips grazing over one peaked nipple, then moving lower, lower. ellie swears she’s forgotten how to breathe.

you release a pleased hum. “i liked watching you touch yourself,” you say, so matter-of-fact. “i hope you like watching me.”

and she does, god she does. she settles back down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving the screen as you work two fingers through your soaked folds. you moan and sigh and keen, rolling your hips down against your own hand, the wet sounds of your pussy so intoxicating, ellie can’t believe she’s gone her whole life without seeing you like this.

and it might be wrong, the way her own hand drifts between her legs to find herself still hot and wet, but she doesn’t have it in herself to care. she dips a finger inside of herself as she watches you ride your own hand, grinding down on your palm as your fingers work in and out of your cunt. she finds a rhythm that matches your own; soon enough, you’re both gasping at the pleasure building beneath your waistline. with every roll of your hips, ellie’s cunt tightens, flooding with slickness - as if she could get any wetter.

as you get closer to the edge, your grip on your phone falters and the camera starts to shake. ellie hisses and curses under her breath when your phone captures the blissed-out look on your face: eyes rolled back, brows pulled together, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

“oh - oh my god,” you stutter, panting, “i’m gonna come, ellie.”

ellie. ellie ellie ellie.

“holy fuck.” ellie’s pussy clamps down around her fingers at the sound of her name on your lips; her thumb glides over her clit just right, and she didn’t think she’d come this fast but she does, her vision exploding into blinding white as her orgasm crashes into her. it’s the only time she looks away from the video on her screen - but she certainly hears your orgasm, all high-pitched moans and ragged breaths, your cunt gushing onto your fingers.

when ellie finds the strength to open her eyes again, the video is still playing. you’re catching your breath, chest shimmering with a thin layer of sweat. you look at the camera and smile. ellie thinks she might pass out.

“thanks for the video,” you say, lifting your free hand up to wave.

when you bring your fingers to your mouth and purse your lips around them, sucking them clean of your own come, ellie’s sure she’s going to pass out.

and then, she decides, she’s going to fuck you stupid.

[gloomwitchwrites]

You get drunk and don't remember giving them a hickey. So you get mad at them.

Oh, anon! I love love love this prompt. Even though the prompt itself is fairly straightforward, there is some wiggle room about how this could play out. I stuck to the prompt but did my best to keep them on the shorter side.

Some of these get spicy but don't fall into graphic detail.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, arguing, sexual tension, kissing, alcohol

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“These reports are shit, Price. What am I supposed to do with them?”

You’re trying your best not to sound irritated, but your head is pounding. You agreed to go out for drinks but told yourself you wouldn’t have more than one or two. That went completely out the door when multiple people began paying for rounds. After the fourth, the night started to come blurry. Not all the pieces are there.

Of what you can recall from last night, you remember that you sat in a man’s lap. Well—sat isn’t the correct word. More like straddled. You remember strong arms, an accent, and an excitement in what you were doing. But the face is still foggy.

“What you always do,” replies Price. There’s a tease in his tone you don’t particularly like. It’s too friendly, and it stirs something fierce inside your belly.

Price shifts in his chair behind his desk, the collar of his jacket flops open slightly. You catch a hint of something dark on the side of Price’s neck. You frown, your rebuttal gone.

“What is that?” You nod toward his throat.

Price leans back. “What?” he asks. “This?” He reaches up, pulling back on the collar.

It’s a…oh fuck.

“You were happy to give it to me.” Price shrugs.

Fuck.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, tossing the manila file folder on Price’s desk.

The man you straddled last night was Price? The man who is always fucking up reports and ignoring all your suggestions for corrections? That one?

“You looked good doing it, too,” he continues, that teasing smile falling into a comfortability of a lover.

No. No no no.

You place your hands on your hips. “And you let me do that?”

Price shrugs. “We’re consenting adults.”

“I was drunk.”

Price crosses his arms over his chest. “We were both drunk. And you’re the one who pounced on me.”

Embarrassment rises hot and wild in your cheeks. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“You did,” he confirms, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he smirks. “Ambushed me actually.”

“Then why didn’t you stop me?” Your voice cracks, going a bit high.

“I tried.”

That’s almost worse. You jumped him and then sucked on his neck until it left a mark. What an absolute fucking mess.

You roll your eyes. “You tried? A big strong man like you couldn’t stop me?”

This time Price is the one rolling his eyes. He makes an irritated groan. Price pushes up from his chair, one hand waving out in front of him as he speaks. “You said you’d been thinking about me.”

It’s not entirely untrue. While you attend the clerical side of things, you do make excuses to come see Price. He’s older. Handsome. Assertive. His reports aren’t always shit but it’s the only reason you have to bother him.

“I didn’t mean it,” you reply but even you don’t believe it.

Price comes around the desk and steps into your space. “Really?”

You square your shoulders, staring into Price’s face. “Really.”

He shakes his head, clearly not believing you at all. “As I recall, you were in my lap. Practically begging.”

“And you allowed that? In front of everyone?” Even Price couldn’t be that careless.

This time, Price smiles like he knows something you don’t. “You don’t remember.”

“What?” you ask, flustered.

Price starts laughing, but it’s not mocking, more like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“John,” you snap.

Price sinks down into his chair, legs spread wide. “I think I liked it better when you said my name while seated in my lap.”

Your fingers dig into the top of Price’s desk. Pieces begin to return. Fragments of you squirming in his lap. Lips pressed against his.

“How did you say it?” he ponders, almost aloud rather than to you. Then, he smiles, not even answering his own question.

Price rests his palm on his thigh and your gaze drops to its subtle movement before returning to his face.

“Think I’d like a matching one,” he says. He runs his hand down his thigh and then back up. “Or I could give you one just like it.”

“John,” you murmur, not knowing what it is you want to say.

“Doesn’t have to be on your neck,” and his voice is nearly a growl. Price lightly squeezes his thigh and you know exactly where he’s referring to. “Be easier if you sit on the desk.”

You snatch up the folder on Price’s desk, clutching it like a shield against your chest. Price doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t appear fazed at all. Stomping over you shove it against his chest, intending to walk right out the door.

But Price is quick.

With one hand he’s clutching the file and with the other he grabs your wrist before you manage to move away.

“Remove your hand,” you say but there is no venom in it.

Price’s gaze lingers on your lips before shifting up to meet your eyes. “Come back when you know what you want.”

Price releases you, and you nearly stumble forward into his lap. Catching yourself on the edge of his desk, you spin on your heel, exiting Price’s office as the final fragments of memory fall into place.

You don’t want to admit it.

Not out loud. Not yet.

But you will be back.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

It’s unbelievable. Unfathomable.

You’re not angry with Kyle. You’re upset with yourself. You’re upset that you were so careless about how many drinks you had, and how you couldn’t control yourself in the moment. Kyle is not a liar, and he doesn’t take advantage, so whatever you did, is on you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, swallowing down some of the rising irritation. “It’s my fault.”

Kyle shrugs, a sheepish smile on his face. “Not like I pushed you away.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you insist, flinging your arms out in exasperation, nearly knocking over bottles of cleaner.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, catching one of them before it hits the floor.

This little storage room isn’t big enough for this. You need space. You need to run far away from here and pretend like last night didn’t happen. Not that you can remember all of it. You don’t recall giving Kyle that mark on his neck.

“It does matter. We both had too much but I still had more of my head than you did.” Kyle places the bottle of cleaner back on the shelf. “I should’ve done better.”

“We’re coworkers, Kyle. And I had no right. We aren’t together.”

Kyle smirks and you want to smack it right off his face. “We could be,” he murmurs, taking a step forward.

“Absolutely not,” you retort but you don’t retreat.

Kyle’s smirk faulters a bit but he doesn’t shrink away. If anything, he looks more determined, like the rejection is a farce.

“You remember anything you said to me last night?”

You lick your lips and cross your arms defensively over your chest. “Even if I did, does it change anything?”

Kyle sighs and runs his hand over the top of his head. “It does for me.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you consider your options. Kyle is a sweet man, at least to you. Everyone always comments on it to you when he isn’t around, and you’ve always dismissed their observations.

Maybe he does care, and you doing this tipped him over the edge into a place neither of you might be able to come back from.

“I need some fucking air,” you mutter, wanting to escape this situation, even for a bit.

Kyle shoves forward, blocking the door. Your lips move, forming the shapes of words, but Kyle shakes his head, all seriousness.

“We need to talk about this.”

“We don’t need to talk about anything,” you snap.

Kyle’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline and his head tips slightly to the side, revealing more of the mark. “Everyone knows what happened.”

“What?” you breathe.

“We weren’t alone when you straddled me.” You’re too stunned to speak. All the words you want to say are gone. Lost to the void that is your mind.

Kyle sighs and leans against the door. “Soap got a great view.”

“Stop talking. Just—stop.” Your throw up your hands and Kyle does as you ask. “You are going to move out of my way. I am going to leave. And we won’t talk about this again.”

Kyle only stares, the silence stretching.

When you think he won’t give in, Kyle shifts to his left, leaving the door completely clear. Without taking a second to reconsider, you push open the the door, nearly running over Soap in the process.

He stumbles backward, cheeks bright red. Ghost is next to him, arms crossed, staring at the wall like he isn’t there at all.

Soap’s brief fluster turns into a wide, knowing grin. “Gaz give you a matching one?” he teases.

Ghost makes a noise that sounds like a snort.

“Both of you can fuck off.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Ghost.”

“What?” he grunts, side-eyeing you before returning his attention back to the tablet in his hand. He absently rubs at his neck for the third time in the last few minutes.

You frown. “Are you injured?”

“Why would you think that?” he asks, tapping at something on the screen.

“You keep rubbing your neck.”

Ghost pauses, his finger hovering just above the screen as he turns slightly in your direction.

You’re not trying to be pushy or nosy. Ghosts hates that. But there’s something wrong, and you care enough to ask him about it.

“You know what’s on my neck,” he replies cooly.

“No. I don’t.” A swirling fracture of unease blooms in your belly. It curls outward to claw up your throat. “What are you talking about?”

Ghost’s hand holding the tablet drops to his side. With one gloved hand, he reaches up, tugging the neckline of his jacket down enough to reveal a portion of his throat. The mask he always wears is in the way, but you reach out with a tentative hand, brushing the fabric upward to reveal a mouth-shaped bruise.

You drop your hand and take a step back. “Why would I know anything about that?”

“You gave it to me,” he says, matter of fact.

Sure, you had a few drinks last night, but did you really have that many? Enough that you can’t recall giving Ghost a goddamn hickey.

“You’re mistaken.”

“Never wrong, love.” Ghost locks the tablet and places it on the table next to him. “Especially about a woman sitting in my lap.”

“Don’t,” you say sharply. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, hips adjusting slightly as he pivots to glare down at you. “Try again.”

A deep rush of embarrassment floods your system, curling up your neck to heat your cheeks. “I wouldn’t.”

“You did,” insists Ghost. You glance down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. Perhaps you had one too many. Sometimes you can hold your alcohol but clearly not. At least not last night.

You clear your throat. “I’m sorry.” An apology is best. You have no idea how Ghost feels about you, but you are irritated that he didn’t try to stop the whole thing in the first place.

Ghost is silent a long moment. “I’m not.” Your head snaps up, but Ghost isn’t done. “I liked it. And you enjoyed giving it to me.”

You need the pieces to fall back into place. You need to remember. Because right now, you’re just confused, and Ghost’s behavior is entirely different from his usual demeanor.

“You don’t know that.”

Ghost shrugs. “I do.”

His certainty is confusing. Ghost is not a liar. He is always truthful, always to the point, even if his bluntness comes across as rude. And that’s what so frustrating about it all because you know that Ghost is right. You probably did like it, probably begged and writhed in his lap. Ghost wouldn’t lie about something like that, but he would tease you. Might even hold it over your head.

“This conversation is over.” You step around him to grab the tablet, but Ghost is quick like a viper, his large hand encasing your wrist.

“Do you remember?”

No. I don’t.

“It doesn’t matter.” You try to tug your wrist out of his grasp, but Ghost holds firm.

“When you’re ready. Find me.” He leans forward, masked face nearly touching the side of your cheek. “We’ll recreate it.”

Then his hand is gone, and Ghost is pulling away, presenting the tablet to you like he didn’t say anything at all.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“What the fuck is that?”

Soap’s brilliant smile turns in your direction. He sits on the seat of a bench press, elbows resting on knees, sweat dripping from his brow. Soap is shirtless and a white towel is draped over the back of his neck.

Reaching up with the edge of the towel, Soap wipes away some of the sweat on his face. “What are you on about?” He adjusts his stance, his large palm pressing into his knee as he leans on an elbow.

The small gym isn’t crowded but there are people here. Some of them turn and glance in your direction but otherwise keep to their business. Ghost and Gaz are over by the boxing ring observing a few new recruits who slug it out for bragging rights.

Is Soap so aloof? Does he not see the massive mark on the side of his neck? And who gave it to him? A group of you went out for drinks but you don’t recall who might have given it to him or when.

You step closer, lowering your voice. “Your neck, Johnny.”

That gorgeous smile of his widens and he chuckles. “Did you forget?”

Did you forget? Forget what? Are you part of this?

You swallow, the salvia nearly sticking in your throat as you try to calm your thudding heart. “What do you mean?”

Soap leans back a bit, observing you. “You gave this to me.” His voice is too loud, and you glance over your shoulder to make sure no one’s heard. Everyone appears to be preoccupied with the recruits in the ring.

“I didn’t,” you insist, turning back to him. “I’d remember.”

Soap guffaws and removes the towel from around his neck. “Took a seat right here.” He indicates the spot by tapping his left thigh.

“Did we…” you begin, and then trail off.

“Did we what?” he prompts, clearly enjoying this.

You bend forward, lowering your voice until it’s a hiss. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Soap smirks, and then rises to his full height. “Promise I was a perfect gentleman.” He matches your movement, leaning in so that your faces are close. “But you? You were no lady.”

You inhale sharply, and Soap pushes right past you, heading for the showers.

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