#and he knew that meant aqua

[channieskies]

𝓇𝑒𝓋𝓊𝑒

🔺Pairing: Chris/Bang Chan x FEM!|Reader 🔺Summary: Finding yourself as a bridesmaid once again, you're dragged along to a male review where each dancer is just as charming as the next. But what happens when you're trapped in the main events' magnetizing spell? 🔺WC: 14,600+ {40-60 min reading time} 🔺AU: Stripper AU, Bridesmaid Au 🔺Genre: Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Non-Idol AU 🔺Nets: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society 🔺Warning(s)⚠️: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost to other sites. Unprotected sex [please wrap it before you tap it. This is fiction, and I control the narrative. Real life is scary, so please be safe], dom and sub undertones, creampie, oral (male and female receiving), choking, slight exhibitionism, fingering (fem receiving), light spanking, mentions of self hate, mentions of cheating. (please let me know if I missed any) 🔺Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction. 🔺Authors note: Hi! This has been a story in the making for over a yeah now. I wrote and intended to publish this back in Oct 2023, but I never finished it. With new found inspiration, I found myself able to finally push through and publish this. I hope you enjoy this (old ass) story! Special thanks to @therhythmafterthesummer &@bunnliix for beta'ing this for me. I really appreciate it!!

Once a bridesmaid, always a bridesmaid. This was your third wedding this year. Meaning, it was soon to be your third unflattering dress. Your third time smiling uncomfortably in pictures. This would probably be your third time getting stuck dancing with the handsy uncle who always smelled like aqua velva and cheap liquor. You conclusively loathe attending weddings, but absolutely loved and adored your friends. So when asked for the third time this year to be a bridesmaid, of course, you agreed. Because, what else are friends for? 

A party bus full of late twenties and early thirty somethings, pre-gaming after pre-gaming, sounded like a setup for a god-awful lifetime movie. One where the bride gives some lucky stranger her goods after the bachelorette party and before the wedding. But you hoped that wouldn’t be the case. Imogen had been planning this wedding for four years now, and it was finally coming to fruition. She was the type to never let anything get in her way, and that included herself.

“I’m going to slide down that man and ride him till he calls me mama!” You chuckled as your friend struggled on the pole pushing her party city veil out of her face. “He won’t see it coming. He has no idea what kind of freak he's about to call his wife.” She’d been abstinent since her last relationship, so naturally, her and her fiance were celibate. That meant neither of them had dusted off the cobwebs in over four years. Couldn’t be you, but if she liked it, you loved it for her.

But you guessed forced celibacy was just as bad as actually vowing to not have sex. You were in a no-man’s-land. Pussy drier than the sonoran desert. Truthfully, if anyone did touch you, you were sure an actual cloud of dust would puff out of your cunt. It was terrible, really. Your last relationship ended with him cheating, after wholly decimating your confidence. Making your answer to ‘But He’s a photographer, he sees pretty, skinny girls all the time. What would stop him from cheating on you?’ totally irrelevant. 

You caught them in your bed, on your Egyptian cotton sheets. Three hundred thread count sheets that you let him keep, since you knew you couldn’t wash the filth out of them. To make matters worse, she was much younger -barely legal-, and half your size. It was just your luck that her billboards were posted all over town. A fucking model. Yeah, that was a never ending cycle of self-denigrating that you had to unpack with your therapist. You swore up and down you'd never let it happen again. 

But you were better now. Well, at least you hated yourself less. It took some time, a LOT of therapy, and the help of loved ones letting you know you were loved. Plus you have learned how to love and take care of yourself better. You’d given that man all of you and expected nothing of him and you know what they say about expectations right? Keep them low and you’ll never be disappointed. Bullshit. Even if you don’t have any, expect to be disappointed. 

The bus rolled to a stop. The neon lights  wrapped the building and entrance. Large posters of scantily dressed, well-oiled men stood stories tall. Big burly guards stood out front of the entrance, you guessed, to drag any woman who got too handsy with the dancers, out and off the premises. You all piled off the bus, bride and her maid of honor first. All of you, except the bride in her tight white dress, were in an array of green. 

Your dress was a dark emerald color. The satin dress hugged your body just right, hitting you mid-thigh, with ruching around the stomach to hide anything you didn’t want to show. Like your tummy. You stood back, not too excited to see sweaty men gyrating in your face. But your thoroughly plastered friends would beg to differ. “Party for Standfield.” 

One of the guards checked his tablet and nodded. He talked into his earpiece and opened the velvet rope. “Your host will meet you inside. Enjoy your stay at Taste, Male Revue.” He gave a knowing smile as your group sauntered past him and into the red glow of the front door. You were blasted by air as you entered. Rosemary and bergamot invade your senses almost immediately. 

“It smells like a man in here.” One of your friends noted as she swooned.

“Acqua Di Giò, it was what my ex used to wear to be exact.” You were perturbed. You wanted to have fun tonight, let down your hair. Not be reminded of the insufferable douche you thought was the one. 

“Great nose you have there ma’am.” You jumped as you were greeted by the host. He smiled. His features made him look like a fox, he was absolutely adorable. He looked way too young to be associated with a den of sin. What was he doing here? “We pump the fragrance into our system, it’s one of the owners favorites.” He nodded and bowed, greeting your party officially. “Welcome to Taste, male revue. I am your host for the night, Ian.”

You squinted at his name tag that clearly had the letters ‘i’ and ‘n’ written on it. You wanted to speak up about it, but when you looked around at your friends you realized it wasn’t worth the concern. “We have set up the v.i.p lounge for your party. Your bartender is starting on your first round of drinks as we speak. Your food will be served after the first hour of performances. Any booked solo time will be conducted after dinner and dessert. Please make sure to reserve your favorite dancer for any solo time before the conclusion of dessert.” He nodded, giving you all a once over, as if counting the party. 

“It seems everyone is accounted for. Please follow me so we can kick this night off.” The main club area was a huge space with white tables and chairs that contrasted with the black carpet flooring. The stage was black, but shiny, making it a smooth surface for the dancers to glide over. The main stage area was packed. An oiled up dancer was grinding on some pretty blonde girl while she giggled. 

"Must be nice.." you mumbled under your breath as you watched her get flipped upside down, her barely clothed vagina now in the dancer's face, her face in his crotch. The scene disappeared from view as you were ushered into the v.i.p area. Over the door it read "The Chapel", The tall frosted glass door looked like it had been hit with a blast chiller. I.N led the group past the doors, an odd but pleasant smile on his face. The floors were still black, but everything else was white and silver. Light lines the floor to help people navigate the darkness. 

By the looks of the room the theme had to have something to do with ice. There was a bar that was made from glass that was back-lit with blue and white lights to give the illusion of frost. The ceiling was mirrored and also lined with lights around the perimeter. "Dibs on the seat next to Imogen!" Your friends clamored as they practically raced to the front near the stage. There was a chair sitting directly in front of the stage, a sash with the silvery letter of "bride" written on it.

"You want to sit next to me, Y/n?" Imogen asked as she grabbed your hand. The two of you had been friends for so long that she could tell when something wasn't completely right with you. She squeezed your hand to get you to look at her. "If you feel even a little uncomfortable here, let me know, okay?" She smiled and you reciprocated.

"I'm fine Imogen. Plus, this night is about you. One last night of free looks before you're tied to Jerry from accounting forever." She laughed.

"That doesn't mean I don't want my girls to enjoy the night too. Honestly that's what I want the most out of it. So, sit next to me. Okay? Allana said the guys here are extremely hot" You hesitantly nodded. There was no way you would have picked a seat that close for yourself, but this was about what she wanted. So, naturally you would agree.

His days never started before noon. Anything before two pm was entirely too early for him. Days always shifted into night and then into the wee hours of the morning. So sleeping until the sun was high in the sky was a must for him. 

Chris reached out to the other side of his bed, feeling the cool sheets against his hands. It had been a while since someone occupied that side, his last relationship ended over a year ago. But they were still close friends, since it ended amicably. 

He groaned, forcing himself to roll over and swing his legs off the side of the bed. His hair was messy, curls pointing in different directions, face and lips a little swollen from activities the night before. Also known as late night ramen with his best friend, Changbin. His phone buzzed on the night table, alerting him that it was time to wake up. "I know, I know." He groaned, shutting it off.

He eventually forced himself to leave the comforts of his bed and padded to the bathroom right outside his room. After showering and grooming, he made breakfast for him and his roommates, as well as pre-workout shakes. The three of them headed off to the gym a few blocks away from their apartment, together. He loved the atmosphere there. People were kind and supportive and it was never too crowded. He put on his playlist and zoned out.

After a good shower and lunch, he and his friends headed to work. You'd think after coming home so late at night they wouldn't be ready to go back.  But they loved their job. It was fun to interact with people and dance. Getting to see the smiles on clients' faces made everything worthwhile. Plus it didn't hurt that he had some of the highest requests. Becoming so well known that he had danced at parties for some elite celebrity clientele. He couldn't tell you who though, he signed a n.d.a for that very reason.

"Alright, A team, we have a bachelorette party coming up tonight. They requested all six of team A. The maid of honor said and I quote, 'Give us all of them. We all like something different.' So, be ready for a wild night and a lot of bookings." Jeongin, the club manager and host stated. Bachelorette parties were always a mixed bag. It could either be a group of tame women who let go when they got a few drinks in the system. Or wild women who got even wilder after a few drinks. Or it could be the ones who ended up with their photos posted in the hall of shame. Those were the ones no one could let back in because they caused so much of a ruckus.

A year and a half ago, Chris had an encounter with a hall of shame inductee. She thought it would be a good idea to sneak backstage and hide in his dressing room. He was taking off his make-up when she popped out from behind his clothes rack completely naked. Telling him how she saw how he looked at her and that she knew she was just his type. He tried to talk her down, but no wasn’t in her vocabulary. It took two guards and Jeongin to pull her off him. She scratched his arm up so bad that even when it healed he had to get a tattoo to cover it.

But thankfully, hall of shamers were a rare occurrence. "Chan, they asked you to be the headliner for the night. Maid of honor says you're just the bride's type. So make sure to work your magic on the bride to be." He nodded. Once their briefing was over he headed to the dressing room to get ready for the night. 

"Did you see the pictures of the bridesmaids?" Changbin asked as he caught up with him in the hall. "I wonder how many are single. Because the bride has some gorgeous friends." He showed him the folder with their pictures in it, just a few random girls on top. Folders were usually provided for parties that might be willing to spend a little extra to get "special" treatment. Not all the dancers participated, but they had rooms past the party lounge, just for extra services. Changbin frequented the rooms, especially if he found a party goer that really caught his eye.

Chan used the rooms at first. But he felt cheap everytime he saw the extra money on his check. It felt like he lost a part of himself each time he did it. So, eventually he just stopped. The owner understood, telling him that he didn’t need to force himself. He didn’t look back and had no desire to.

The hours had quickly passed him by. It was nearly showtime. The guys could see the bridal party shuffling in, taking their seats. A few of them battling over the two open seats next to the bride. The bride was off to the side talking to another woman he couldn't see, before she dragged her along to one of the seats next to her. The house lights dimmed just as the woman was about to step into view, so he didn't see her face. "Alright guys, it's showtime." He spoke to the room. He pat Minho's back, since he was the first one up. Minho simply smirked as he headed out of their waiting room and to the curtain for countdown.

A few of Imogen's sorority sisters were giving you death glares. She chose you and her maid of honor, her sister Allana, to sit at her sides. The rest were situated in comfortable white arm chairs. Drinks had been served, not that the ladies in this party needed any more to drink. They were already inebriated. Minus you, also known as pedestrian Pattie, because of your one drink policy. The lights on the stage slowly brightened, revealing the host from earlier in the center of the stage. His outfit had changed completely. The suit he wore before was traded in for a black mesh shirt with a cassock. A matching black stole with silver and white crosses on it. Dress pants and boots. He was a priest, and this was his chapel.

"I hope you ladies are ready to get on your knees... and pray." A few of your friends screamed, exhibiting just how ready they were. "The temptations will be high tonight, let's see if you can survive it and join me on the other side. I hope our first performer can tempt you to let go of your inhibitions and pull you to the dark side." He moved from the center off to the side, "Anyone need their pipes cleaned? Welcome to the stage, Lee Know." 

Thirsty by Taemin started to flow through the speakers. You could hear the little water droplets at the beginning of the song. From the line I.N threw out about cleaning pipes and the water drops, you knew exactly what the theme would be. Plumber. As the lights focused on the performer, you noticed how handsome he looked. Worn jeans with rips in them. Working boots and tool belt. Long hair that covered his eyes added to his mysterious charm. He wore a white tank top and his arms were so well oiled you could almost see your reflection. 

Was this what male revues were like? He slid to the end of the stage, right in front of you and Imogen. Your eyes were wide, hands unconsciously moving to cover your chest. He ripped the shirt, but not completely. He left a little of it to cover some of his abs. He reached a hand down slowly as he thrusted, practiced fingers making quick work of his button and zipper. His body rolls were immaculate. You swallowed hard and he noticed, winking his eye in your direction. A girl behind you squealed thinking it was meant for her, but his eye contact told you differently. He smirked and stood, jumping down right in front of Imogen. He grabbed her hand trailing it down his torso to where his pants were undone. 

Her mouth dropped as she blushed furiously. She shook her head profusely, adamant about not even touching a man that wasn't her fiancé. He smiled, and it was one of the most dazzling things you had ever had the privilege to lay eyes on. His eyes landed on you and you stiffened. He smirked again, clearly sensing your hesitancy. He moved to the girl who screamed for him earlier and by all that was holy you were glad it wasn't you. If he fucked anything like he danced, some lucky someone was definitely walking out if here pregnant tonight.

 He had somehow removed his jeans without taking off his boots, a feat in itself. You had no idea where he pulled a water bottle from, but his ripped shirt and tight boxer briefs were soaked. The way his body moved, his thick thighs, the devilish smile he wore, all of it was heart attack inducing. No wonder they called this room the chapel, it was aptly named. You were certainly in need of prayer after witnessing him work his magic. From him picking her up to bounce her on her like he was fucking her while standing. To him putting her down and grinding into her rear. This first dance was surely an eye opening experience.

Once the song ended, I.N made his way back to the stage, sly smirk on his face. "You've been blessed by Lee Know. But are you ready for the next performer? Or do you ladies need some holy water?" He eyed the crowd. "It seems like you're in the mood for something sweet after quenching your thirst. Anyone like….. peaches?" He moved to exit the stage again. "Welcome to the stage, Lix." 

The names seemed to get stranger as time went by, first an Ian that was spelled I.N. Then Lee Know, who clearly knew a lot, judging by how his body moved. Now a Lix? Was he going to show tongue tricks? The room filled with fog, the lights fading from white to peach as Kai's Peaches started to flow through the speakers. You excused yourself, letting Imogen know you were taking a break. You headed past the bar, making eye contact with the bartender, who tipped his head at you. You returned the gesture with a smile before smacking dead into a hard chest. 

"Oh- sorry." Hands flew to your waist as an assurance that you wouldn't fall. You let your eyes travel to the man in front of you. He had on black boots, slacks, and a black tank tucked into them. A sleeve of tattoos that you glanced over, but couldn't help but immediately noticed the snarling wolf on his hand, while brushing your eyes quickly over the rest. He had a stud in his beautifully large nose, messy smokey eyeshadow. His hair was styled in an unkempt way, but it looked attractive on him. 

"It's my fault, I should have been looking where I was going." The accent threw you through a loop. He let you go, taking a step back. "Are you with the bridal party?" He nodded towards the small crowd who were cheering for Lix. It was now the hallway guy’s turn to give you the once over and truth be told you had to press your thighs together at how his eyes lingered on your lower half as he bit on his bottom lip.

"If they continue like this, yes. But if they somehow cause trouble while I'm away… I've never met those people in my life." Your little joke caused him to laugh, putting his pretty smile and dimples on display.

"Are you enjoying the show?" His brow rose as he leaned against the wall. It was almost as if he had all the time in the world to chat you up in this corridor.

"Yeah. I mean, this is my first time at a male revue, so it's a little different. Takes a little time getting used to seeing male bodies gyrating in your face." You looked back at Lix who now had one of Imogen's sorority sisters grinding on his lap. You quickly looked away and back at the confidently relaxed man in front of you.

"As opposed to a female, I'm guessing?" His voice seemed to deepen with his question.

You hummed, "I've been to a few strip clubs. My close friend invited me to his bachelor party a few months ago, and I've been back a few times since then. But Allana, the maid of honor, she's been here a couple of times, so she decided to book this for her sister." He nodded slowly, taking in your words.

"But are you enjoying it?" He tilted his head to the side.

"I mean.. it's different." You chuckled, "It has its charms. The dancers so far have been different from the last, so that's good."

"So, I take it you haven't found a dancer you like yet, is what you're saying." He had this smug look on his face as he said it.

"I liked the first guy, he was cool." 

He hummed, nodding to himself. "Cool, huh?" He smirked, "Okay. So, what can be done to make this a good experience for you?" You tilted your head as you looked at him. Why was he asking you this? This was a night for Imogen to enjoy, you were just here in support.

"For me?" You purse your lips in thought, softly humming. "As long as Imogen- well, the bride to be is happy, so am I." He shook his head, not liking how you answered for your friend and not for yourself.

"Taste is an experience for all of his patrons, brides, bridesmaids, and whoever else comes in here. So, I'll ask again.” He plastered on the most charming, panty melting smile he could manage. Dimples on full display. “What can be done to make this a good experience for you?" He leaned in towards you, your faces a mere breath away from the other as he looked you square in the eyes. “What would have you coming back for more?”

"It would be nice to see someone get flipped around, I guess." You shrugged. He asked, so you threw it out there. “I saw someone getting thrown around on the mainstage as we made our way back here. They were practically sixty-nining on stage. That was pretty cool.”

"See someone get flipped around, yeah?" he nodded as he leaned back to his original spot against the wall. "Not willing to be the one getting flipped?" You laughed unexpectedly, taking both you and him by surprise. You cleared your throat as a way to cover up the abrupt chortle.

"Do you have Hercules or Captain America back there or something?" You nodded to the door that had a small 'restricted access' sign on it.

He shook his head. "No. But I -" You cut him off again, this time with a piteous sigh and a shake of your head.

"Do you see all of me or is your vision half off like the happy hour drinks?” You clasped your hands together as you tried to find the words to explain how insane he sounded. “It's cute that you want to try, it really is. But, sweetie, you'll throw your back out trying to flip me around." You moved next to him and pointed towards your group," You have all of them to choose from. Pick one that you can handle." You pat his shoulder. "Break a leg." You left him there stunned. 

You quickly made your way to the bathroom to freshen up. That man was hot, absolutely everything about him was attractive. His accent, his eyes, lips, nose, dimples, tattoos, the way he stood there, that ass that you noticed as you passed by him, every single last thing. Too bad he had delusions of grandeur for thinking he could handle a woman like you.

Chan had a routine and for the most part he stuck to it. He'd put on the bottom part of his stage outfit, do his hair and makeup, then scope the crowd for whomever his victim would be for the night. The poor unsuspecting soul would never see it coming, until he was in their face seducing him.

He usually watched the crowd, to see how they reacted to the dancers before him. He noticed a few of the women in the party were down for anything. That could be fun, but they usually ended up wanting more than just a private dance. A few were reserved, only dancing a tiny bit in their chairs to the music. 

Then there was you. The one who looked in awe of everything that was happening, like this was a totally foreign concept to you. Like you were having your male stripper cherry popped, so to speak. As if this was an eye opening experience. He eyed your expressions before his eyes traveled down your body. Every last inch that he could see of you was stunning. As if he didn't already have you as his pick for the night, you pulled him even more with your radiating beauty. 

Plus it helped to see that you were clearly on edge. The way you kept shifting in your seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs let him know you were aroused by the show. He could make good use of this information. He was told to go for the bride, since he was her type. 

But by the way she was redirecting dancers to her friends, knowing exactly who would be the best candidate for each dancer, says she is loyal and might be the best wingwoman in town. He needed to make good on his promise to approach her first, and hopefully she would direct him right to you.

Bumping into you was purely coincidental. He usually didn't make contact with his person for the night until he locked eyes with them on stage, he liked for things to seem organic. But talking to you only made the fire inside of him grow hotter. He was desperate to prove you wrong. To show you that he just simply needed to be Chris to flip you around or do whatever else it is you fancied.

You were confident, he'd give you that. You knew what you wanted. He liked that. But what he didn't like was you dismissing him like that. Hercules? Captain America? It absolutely boggled his mind that you thought you were incapable of receiving what that girl on the main stage received just because you had a few more curves. He settled at the bar and nodded to the bartender. He always took a ceremonial shot before his stage, tonight would be no different.

"What's on your mind?" Seungmin asked as he placed the empty shot glass in front of Chan. "Because I can see you overthinking from here." He poured the top shelf tequila into his glass then slid it closer.

"The woman who passed by here not too long ago, did you get a good look at her?" He really didn't know why he was asking, it was like Seungmin had photographic memory, he could probably tell him what time you passed by and everything.

"I did. Why?" He narrowed his eyes, "Don't tell me you're going back on your rule." Chan took the shot, shaking his head as the liquid burned down his throat.

"No. I just.." He sighed as he slid the shot glass back across the bar. "Do you think I'm strong enough to you know… flip her? Because she has me second guessing myself." 

"Possibly." Seungmin shrugged. "You know Changbin hyung is the better candidate to answer that question." When he didn't say anything further, he knew he was done with the conversation.

"Thanks, Seungmin." The bartender nodded, getting back to making another round of drinks for the party goers.

Chan headed back backstage, passing you again as you exited the bathroom and headed to the bar. You didn’t even spare him a glance, sending him even further into the abyss that was self doubt. 

Chan found Changbin in his dressing room, exercising before his set. "Bin. Question." Chan flopped on the couch, not too far away from his friend. "You scoped all of the bridal party, right?" 

Changbin grunted and stopped his bicep curls. "You know I did. Gotta pick my person for the night." He grabbed a weight to do bicep curls, he had to make sure his muscles looked good under the lights. "Why? What's up? You look a little worried."

Chan was chewing on his lip nervously, not even realizing he was a bit frazzled by her comments. "There is this girl -" He stopped mid-sentence as Changbin nearly dropped his weight. 

"A girl- wait- seriously?" He carefully put his weight down so he didn't accidentally injure himself with any more news. "You plan on… you know.. Going back on your rule?" 

"No- why do people keep asking me that?" He sighed exasperatedly. "Where is the folder?" Changbin nodded towards the makeup table. Chan grabbed the folder and skimmed through the photos until he found yours. "Her." He gave his friend the photo, you didn’t have many full body pictures, so Allana provided them with the best one she possibly could. "Do you think it would be possible for me to flip her?" Changbin eyed the picture for what seemed like forever.

"Yeah. I think you can do it. Why are you asking this suddenly? This isn't like you." He slid the picture back into the folder.

"She said I couldn't."

"You felt challenged, huh?" Changbin laughed.

"I- I did and I don't normally let things like that get to me. But- I felt like she dismissed the thought before she'd even seen me work. She told me I'd throw my back out trying to flip her. Then told me to 'break a leg.'" He mocked your tone while rolling his eyes.

Changbin laughed so hard he doubled over, clutching his stomach from the pain of it.

"It's not funny!" Chan usually had unwavering confidence when it came to stage presence, for him to be shaking in his boots over one little comment was the highlight of Changbin's day.

"You're right, it's not funny. It's hilarious. I like this girl. She managed to shake the unshakable Bang Chan.” He smirked and Chris groaned. “But seriously bro, just prove her wrong. Pull her on stage, seduce her, then flip her. Simple."

"But I'm supposed to go after the bride." Chan protested, his face somewhere in between a scowl and a pout.

"Forget that. Minho already said she's denying dances for herself. So go after the friend." He picked his weight back up. "Now get out so I can get ready. I can hear Hyunjin's music playing and I'm up next."

Chan nodded and took his leave. Taking everything his friend said into account. He was going to win her over. He was going to give her exactly what she wished for and a little more.

Bored. That's exactly what you were at the moment. You didn't want anyone to take it the wrong way, these men were talented, there was no doubt in that. They were also too pretty to be real. Like somehow they were all AI generated. You flashed a smile at the unbelievably pretty man on stage as he made eye contact with you. His flowing black locks were mostly pulled into a ponytail, showing off his alarmingly beautiful face.

You figured his theme was that of a prince and honestly, he fit the bill. Regal looking from head to toe. You sipped your drink as he rolled his surprisingly toned body. You appreciated the view even if your usual type was a little bit beefier. You preferred a man that could pick you up, toss you around a little bit. And truth be told, you looked like you could break him just by looking at him. Him, the cute chubby cheeked boy before him and the small fairy-like blonde named Lix. At least the first guy, Lee Know, looked like he'd put up a fight. His thighs at least made him look sturdy. Plus he looked like he might be into a little pain, and you liked that.

You weren't even going to think about the cocky guy from the hallway. Sure, he had nice shoulders and an even nicer ass. But the mere thought that he thought he could flip you was laughable. He didn't look strong enough to flip a table to be honest. You were too caught in your own thoughts to notice that the prince had vacated the stage and I.N. was announcing the next performer. It wasn't until the lights changed from the pretty, calming, pale blue, to the fiery red that consumed the whole room. Alarm bells rung, pulling everyone's attention to the stage. Smoke snaked its way from behind the large white panel that covered the expanse of the back of the stage, giving a hazy feel to the room. “What's my name?” 

A few of the ladies must have been paying attention to I.n. seeing that they replied with a roaring “Changbin!”. That included Allana, who wasn't sitting not too far away from you. His voice was gruff, sexy. Your eyes hadn't moved from the stage since the atmosphere changed. His silhouette was the first thing you saw of him. This thick, muscular man. Everything from head to toe looked sturdy and well crafted. You sat up, gripping the armrests of your chair. A smooth r&b track flowed through the speakers as he sauntered out. A fireman. His pants sat low, suspenders keeping them in Place. His Coat was slung over his shoulders, his hat pulled down over his eyes. This man was sexy.

He tossed his coat out into the crowd. He literally fanned the flames of tension between two girls as they started fighting over it, both tugging on the yellow fireman's cloth. What was this effect he seemed to have on all the women, that included you. He held eye contact with Imogen with every step he took off stage. You could see the faint blush on her cheeks as he got closer and closer. 

Even he seemed to have a pull on her and that alone spoke volumes. He straddled her legs and grabbed her hand putting it right between his peck before making them dance. She covered her face with her free hand, giggling like some adolescent schoolgirl. You'd only seen her like this a few times in college, but this had to be a first, at least since she'd met her fiancé. He slid her hand down his oiled torso as he body rolled. She was as red as a tomato and you were just as or even more green with envy. 

She'd been adamant all night about keeping her hands to herself, what changed? You sighed, deciding to push your jealousy to the side. You took the final sip of your drink. Opting to let the cool liquid calm your nerves. He stepped back, and grabbed Imogen's hand, pulling her to the stage. Maybe she'd had one too many drinks and forgotten the strict rules she had set for herself? Either way, this was her party, something to celebrate her and her upcoming marriage, so you had no ground to stand on when it came to being upset.

But it did look fun. The smile on her face and blush on her cheeks said it all. He picked her up and carried her to stage, all while she covered her face out of sheer embarrassment. Some girls really had all the luck.

Nerves. They weren't something he was used to dealing with before a show and any he did feel would be washed away by the shot he took beforehand. Not today. Chris was beyond just nervous, he was two seconds away from having a full blown panic attack and it was all because of you. You and your words. He knew better than anyone just what he was capable of, but you had him second guessing himself at every turn. Turning to others for advice and reassurance, which was very unlike him.

He looked out at the crowd while Changbin did his thing, taking one for the team and seducing the bride to be, so Chris could have a little more of an opportunity to try and get to you. He eyed your expressions, your movements. Noticed the slight grimace on your face as you looked on at your friend and Changbin with what looked like jealousy. “Ah, so that's your type.” He couldn't help the little smirk that formed on his lips. He and Changbin were gym buddies and even though they had very different body types, they still did the same things when working out. He had this in the bag.

Chan usually fluffed his cock before a show. Though he looked pretty decent without it, fluffing before he went on stage ensured he looked just as above average as he was. He went back into his dressing room to finish getting ready. He took his usual routine, pulling up a video, locking the door so he wouldn't be interrupted. He landed on a video he liked and started to stroke himself. But his cock seemed uninterested in something that had gotten him off time and time again. To say he was frustrated, would be the understatement of his lifetime. You insinuating that he couldn't handle you kept flashing in his head in big, red, neon letters. 

What is the off chance that you were right? That he really couldn't handle you. That he'd make a fool of himself and you in the process? What if he dropped you? He'd never be able to forgive himself. He'd never be able to show his face here or anywhere for that matter. What if this followed him for the rest of his life. Like somehow everyone knew he dropped a girl who told him he couldn't handle her. He groaned loudly, so loud he almost missed the knock on his door. “Five minutes.” He sighed. There was no use, his dick was disheartened. He tucked himself back into his boxers and pants and threw on the rest of his outfit. 

He did a self check. Breath. Minty fresh. Outfit. Every detail in place. Makeup. Subtle, mostly just a tinted moisturizer and an alluring smoky eye. Hair, straightened and pushed up and back out of his face. He nodded to himself in the mirror. “You got this.” He hit his chest a few times to really pump himself up before heading out towards the stage. It was almost as if everything went mute. He couldn't hear the crowd screaming Changbin's name, practically begging for an encore. 

He couldn't hear I.N. trying his best to calm them down so he could announce Chris as the next performer. He couldn't hear the stage hand telling him to wait. He snapped out of it as the young woman touched his chest. “Are you even listening? I.N hasn't announced your name yet.”  she rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed by him at the moment.

“I'm so sorry. You know what it's like when I'm in the zone.” He gave her an apologetic look. She sighed and nodded, deciding to let things go. Chris tried his best not to look out at the crowd, he didn't need anything knocking the confidence he'd built up. But he couldn't help himself. He peeked out, finding you and your friends fanning yourselves while giggling. Probably still giddy about Changbin's performance. He couldn't understand why, but that gave him a little confidence boost.

While Changbin was a wonderful performer, Chris was in the top stop for a reason. He couldn't wait to shock the crowd with the routine he had planned. “You ladies have been very naughty tonight. You know that? Now that the flames have been put out, I think it's time we arrest the culprit behind it all. Don't you-” Sirens filled the room again, but this time it was police Sirens. “Oh no, the cops are coming. Is that…” I.N. pretended to look off in the distance as if this was a totally believable bit. His dedication to the scene was impeccable. “It's officer Bang. Be careful ladies, I've heard he's a very bad boy with a badge. I hope you all are ready to submit or be charged.”

The stage hand nodded and Chris finally walked out on stage. With one hand on his belt, the other twirling the cuffs, he walked out to the middle of the stage and stopped. His lips curled into a smirk as he looked over the crowd. He made it to the end of the stage and pointed at a still flustered Imogen. She covered her face and shook her head. 

Changbin had clearly done some work on her, if she was back to refusing dances. She glanced from her sister to her best friend as if she was contemplating which one to pick, between the two. She grabbed your hand lifting it into the air, declaring you the winner of the lap dance from officer Bang. Much to his delight and your chagrin.

He extended a hand towards you, a slick smile on his face, while you visibly panicked. “Go, Y/n. Have fun. For me, yeah?” It was like she said magic words. You closed your eyes and sighed. It was for Imogen. That is the reason you relented. At least that's what you tried to tell yourself.  You took his hand and he held it until you made your way up the tiny staircase to the stage. 

“Before we get started, do I have your consent to do what I need for entertainment purposes?” Your eyes scanned his face before darting to Imogen who nodded profusely. 

You sighed again, shoulders falling slightly in defeat. “Yeah, yeah. Just get on with it.” You waved him off just for him to catch your wrist, slapping the cuff around it.

“Then, you're under arrest.”

“What's the charge officer?” One of the ladies yelled from the back. She was a lawyer, so this was probably very familiar for her.

“Underestimating me.” He once again invaded your space, his face dangerously close to your own. You could smell the fresh mint toothpaste on his breath. “You're guilty, until I prove you wrong.” You were so distracted by the alluring look in his eyes that you didn't feel him grab and cuff your other hand until you heard the faint click. “Play my music.” He yelled back at the dj. You felt this overwhelming sense of embarrassment. Was this man about to do what you knew he couldn't?

He bent you over, with your cuffed hands placed on the back of a chair that you hadn't realized had been put on stage. “I can't take you in until I frisk you. So spread those legs for me.” You did as told, spreading your legs a little, feeling your dress ride up the backs of your thighs and settling right in the undercuff of your booty.

 You tried not to be self conscious about slightly exposing yourself to not only your friends but a bunch of strangers in the process. You felt the warmth of his hand on the small of your back as he pushed it down ever so lightly, making you arch. The fabric covering your ass was hanging on by a thin thread.

You could have sworn you heard him curse behind you as he rubbed your sides softly. “You aren't hiding anything, are you?” You couldn't see his face, but he was trying his best to continue playing his role. The way your curves looked in this dress was already tugging at the strings to make him come undone. You, bent over like this, this was causing the frayed ends of his sanity pull as well.

“No.” You sighed heavily. You couldn't look at the crowd. To you they could only be responding in either two ways. Disgust or bewilderment. There was no in between in your mind. 

“I'm going to pat you down to make sure you don't have anything on you to hurt me.” He knew that was a lie. You'd already hurt him. You couldn't possibly do more damage than you already did to his ego. Or so he thought. With both hands situated on your hips, he ground his own hips into your backside before letting his hands slip down to your thighs. 

He dropped to his knees, his hands traveling down with him over the outside and then the over inside of your parted legs. He was immediately faced with more pain than he could possibly manage. He was face to face with the wet patch in your lace panties and it immediately threw him off guard.

 It wasn't that he didn’t know you were wet, he'd figured that out much earlier in the night. No, it was because it was much worse than you just being merely wet, you were soaked, panties clinging to your pussy for dear life he was desperately doing to his sanity.

You felt exposed. Chewing on your lip, just waiting for the moment you could finally sit down. The rest of the girls who were danced on were seemingly having the time of their lives and that included Imogen. Why couldn't you just get out of your head? Whether he could flip you or not could be pushed to the back of your mind for the time being.

You just wanted to relax and enjoy the moment. Because when was the next time you'd get a dude to touch you like this? You were more than touch starved for a reason. In a perpetual dry spell. Plus, it didn't hurt to admit that there was this overall sexiness about this man. You sighed, arching your back a little more, spreading your legs a little more. Giving him more of the view he didn't know he needed.

He had to calm himself. The view he had in front of him right now, had to be one of the best things he'd ever seen in his life. It almost felt as if he was receiving the lap dance instead of you. He shook his head lightly, bringing himself back from being too distracted by you. He ran his hands down the outsides of your legs then moved between them to rub back up. 

Standing back up, he grabbed your hips once again to grind into you, hands moving up your sides slowly, then up your back to the nap of your neck. He grabbed tight, not tight enough to hurt and pulled you back to him. Your back now flush to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, hips still moving sensually against your own. You could feel his steady breaths against your neck, as if he wasn't doing a routine. As if his heart beating quickly in his chest wasn't enough to alert you to how he was feeling. 

“Turn around for me.” You took a moment, but complied. You couldn't have him thinking you were eager enough to comply immediately. You waited a beat before turning around and facing him. He didn't let go of you, but he gave enough slack in his arms for you to move freely enough. Your chest rose and fell with each of your panicked breaths. Being this close in proximity to such a handsome man was making you nervous. 

It'd truly been that long since you've been touched? Yes. You were genuinely surprised he wasn't covered in cobwebs from the contact. He hooked his hand under your thigh, lifting it, settling it againsts hip. His other hand sat  firmly right above your ass just to keep you in place. You could feel his bulge against your heat, just the thought of his proximity made you salivate. And it turned out that he didn’t need fap material when you were in his presence. He'd recovered just fine after not being able to get it up with his usual means.

From where the audience was sitting, it looked like the two of you were caught in a passionate moment, unaware of the spectators. He ran his nose over your jaw as he pulled you in even closer. There was little to no room between the two of you. It took everything in him to pull away. There was the magnetism you held that made him not only curious about you, but made him want to stick to you. “Why don't you sit down for me, huh?” You sucked in a shaky breath and gave him a faint nod.

He let you go, even if his instincts told him to keep holding on. He took a step back as you took a seat. He tossed his hat to the side of the stage and took his sweet time unbuttoning his shirt. He threw the garment to Imogen who surprised the heck out of you as.she sniffed it. She mouthed an “Oh my gosh he's so fucking fine.” To you while fanning herself, successfully making you giggle. 

But those sweet giggles were soon replaced by A gasp as Officer Bang stood shirtless in front of you. You finally got to see the full extent of his tattoo placement. Random little red and yellow flowers, some flags, a cute portrait of a dog. None of it matched his almost sinister hand tattoo. That snarling wolf that looked as if it was staring you down, ready to rip you to shreds.

He leaned into your face once again, pulling you away from ogling his half naked, tattooed body. His finger hooked under your chin so that you'd look up at him. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?” Something about the way he looked at you as the sensual sounds of the Cuff It remix playing in the background made you press your legs together in an effort to stop your pussy from getting any wetter, as if it could. You were undoubtedly soaked, you knew that and unbeknownst to you, so did he.

“Never.” You whispered to him, a smirk spreading on your lips. “You'd have to earn that, Officer Bang.” You leaned back in the chair, his hand falling from your face and back to his side. The music playing in the background drowned out the conversation the two of you were having.

“Earn it, huh? Alright, bet.” He was putting on an air of confidence, he wanted you, if no one else, to think he was as confident as they came. Even if his feelings had been wavering all night. He took your cuffed hands and placed them on his stomach as he rolled his body. Your fingers slid until they caught onto his belt. He moved in, straddling your legs while towering over you.

“Take it off for me.” His voice was clear and commanding. He watched you carefully as you unbuckled his belt. Your brows were furrowed, lips tucked between your teeth. The amount of concentration exerted just undo his belt, let him know that your mind was working ten steps ahead of you right now. Even the look of innocence you gave him after you completed your task did not negate the fact.

“Thought you weren't going to be a good girl for me?” He whipped the belt through the loops then folded the belt in half. “What happened to me earning it? Huh?” He tapped the leather accessory under your chin. His eyes were so piercing they almost broke the barrier of your confident facade.

“How does that make me a good girl? Maybe I just want to see you with less on. Did that thought occur?” He chuckled, grabbing the back of your head while grinding towards your face. You flashed him that innocent look again, but with your adjacency to his crotch and you darting your tongue out to wet your lips, there was nothing innocent about you. 

If anything you straddled the line between playful and something deeply sensual, with little to no effort. You knew what you were doing. You were teasing him, and he loved to be teased almost as much as he loved teasing. “It did. But you're a little too eager for it to be just that.” He stepped back again, hands moving to your thighs again. He pushed them open and lifted them, letting your legs rest around his waist. He grabbed the back of the chair with one hand, the other was placed on your hip. “Just admit you want me. It'd make things easier for you.” The way he ground his hips into you had a moan slipping past your lips

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Just give in to me.” He moved in like he was going to kiss you. At least to your hazy visions that's what it looked like. He fit so perfectly between your thick thighs and the way he moved against you was dizzying. Your friends were on the edge of their seats as they watched this dance. It was flirting with being hardcore pornography on the stage. The way your wetness was now dampening the front of his trousers. How your legs wrapped around him, pulling him in with the sharp heels of your shoes.

You moaned again, nails dragging down his stomach. “I could do much more to you if you let me. Just give in to me.” He was staring into your soul. He was touching you, but just barely and yet it felt as if every nerve ending of yours was on fire. As if another part of you was reacting, you nodded. It had to be that part of your brain that was too horny to function. The touch-starved beast that was desperately seeking attention from this beautiful specimen of a man that had you pent down to a chair in front of your friends.

His lips twitched into a small smirk. “Good girl.” He unhooked your legs from around his waist and moved them to his shoulders. His smirked shifted into a cocky smile as he left open mouth kisses down your clothed frame till he was right above your heat. He stealthily placed a kiss to your exposed panties, eyes still focused on yours, but now with a playful glint in them. He placed kisses on your thighs then nipped at the skin.  

Chris had never been this drawn to a client before. He wanted to feel your skin for real. To feel your touch, maybe even to taste you, if you'd let him. With him this close to you, he could smell your sweet scent. And if he was honest, he'd tell you just how tempting you were. But, the man had a job to do. He was meant to entertain, and he had no reason not to fulfill that task. 

He switched your position, your thighs were once again around his waist. “Put your arms around me.” You didn't hesitate. You looped your arms over his head, letting your arms settle around his shoulder, fingers accidentally threading into the damp patch of hair on the back of his head. He lifted you up, almost as if you weighed nothing to him. The look of shock on your face said enough. 

He chuckled, his hands gripping your ass to keep you in place. “Hold on tight, okay? I got you.” He used the grip on your ass to swing you back and forth, your hips crashing into his crotch, like he was fucking you. Your hold on his neck tightened. A bit of fear he'd drop you was creeping back up into the back of your mind, no matter how much you tried to trample it down. 

“I won't drop you, I promise.” He smiled, “If I do, you can take it out on me however you like…. Deal?” That however you like sat with you. You almost wanted him to drop you, just so you could take it out on him. You nodded in agreement and relaxed your body, so that he could do what he wanted. “Plus, I don't plan on flipping you in front of all these people.” You looked at him confused, what was he even saying?

“That should be something done in private.” The next thing you know, your back is pressed against the cold stage and his hips are giving you a barrage of quick fire strokes just to slow it down once again. Now all he needed to do was a few finishing moves to close out the show, then things would come to a close. That would be the end of his time with you. For some reason, that just didn’t sit right with him. 

He wanted to at least know your name. He’d tell you his name in return. He didn’t want to leave off with you knowing him as Officer Bang or Bang Chan. He wanted you to meet Chris. He placed your leg on his shoulder, feeling from your ankle down to your thigh. You don't know how but he turned you quickly on your stomach and maneuvered himself back between your legs. Rolling his hips into yours. You had nowhere to run, and truthfully you liked feeling him pressed against you.

You were flustered, face slightly damp with sweat. Chest rising and falling rapidly. Body racing with adrenaline. Loving the feeling of his hips grinding in circles against yours once again, making the heat of lust crawl back up your body once again. Fogging your mind until you couldn’t think of anything else but the way he felt moving against you. The lights dimmed, music faded, your friends roared loudly as they cheered from the crowd. You’d forgotten they were there, mind too gone with the man that was still on top of you, though his routine had ended. 

“Come back stage with me?” He asked in your ear, voice hoarse from speaking over the music so you could hear. You nodded, too aroused to actually verbalize an answer. “Was.. was that a yes?” He chuckled lightly as he sat up. He grabbed your hips, helping you to get up from the floor, knowing it'd be pretty hard to do with your hands still cuffed. He stood to his feet before helping you and leading you carefully off stage, hand in hand.

That part was still dark and he didn't want you to take a tumble. You squinted as the darkness turned to light once behind the curtain. He pulled you off to the side, retrieving the key from his pocket. “You did great, by the way.” He kept your hand in his as he tried to unlock your cuffs. “It felt.. natural.” He wouldn't look in your eyes, at least not for long.

“I should be saying that to you, honestly. You're an amazing dancer.” You nodded, but noticed just how shy he got. He was still shakily trying to put the key in the hole, biting down on his bottom lip. “Take your time…” You encouraged him. “I'm sure Imogen still wants to party while a few of the girls.. you know.. partake in the other services offered here.” You didn't know why, but the thought of one of your friends asking to sleep with him bothered you immensely.

“And… What about you? What are your plans… if I ever get you uncuffed?” He was cursing himself out in his mind, how hard was it to take off a cuff? He'd done this many times before. Why was he so nervous?

“I'm down for whatever. I mean, I have to wait for my ride, right?” You chuckled. “Plus I'm sure one of the girls is booking you as we speak. Especially after that performance. I only saw a few of them from my peripherals, but they were beyond impressed. I think you got a standing ovation.” You chuckled half heartedly, the thoughts of him and one of the girls was still swimming around in your head. Leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Ah- yeah, nah. I don't offer those kinds of services. I leave that up to the rest of the guys.” He finally heard the click of the cuff and sighed out of relief. “Fucking.. finally.” He removed them and placed them in his pocket, then grabbed your wrists to message away the little indents left by them. “It doesn't hurt, does it?” His eyes were fully focused on your wrists.

“Not really. Rope burn is far worse, in my opinion.” You shrugged. “The marks will be gone within the hour.”

“Rope Burn- heh. Is it?” God, you were still doing things to his mind. His erection hadn't calmed down yet, either. “Are you.. Ya’know.. into that type of thing?” He could hear his heart in his head, beating loudly.

“I'm into all types of things, Officer Bang.” You teased.

He had to look up to the ceiling to gather himself. The image of you tied in rope, just waiting there for him almost made him cum in his trousers. He cleared his throat, focusing his attention back on you, “Chris. You can call me Chris.”

You smirked, “Chris, huh? Are you expecting me to tell you my name now…. Chris?” It was something in the way you said his name that almost made his knees give out.

“That would be nice. But it's not necessary, not if you don't want to tell me.” He was sweet, you recognized that. He finally let your wrists go, and you immediately missed the contact.

“Lucky for you, I'm feeling generous.” You gave him a soft smile, “I'm Y/n. It's nice to meet you, Chris.” You didn't ask or hesitate, you just took his hand in yours, giving it a shake. But he took you off guard when he pulled you hand to his mouth, giving you a kiss on the back of it.

“Pleasures all mine.” That mischievous glint was back in his eyes as they traveled from your face down to your chest and back up.

“It's not. But it could be.” You don't know who broke first, but you were suddenly engaged in a kiss, your back pressed against the hallway wall that you first met him at. He had you boxed in, a hand on each side of your head. Your hands started at his waist and worked their way up his abs to his pecks.

He needed to feel more of you. Just your lips touching was not even close to being enough to satisfy this growing need he had for you. He pressed his body yours, moving one hand to grip one of your thick thighs, resting it at his waist. You could feel him against your core, the contact igniting something within you.

He moved his kisses from your lips to your neck, taking his precious time with leaving his mark behind. He didn't know who needed to know, but he wanted people to know he'd been there. You moaned as his teeth grazed over the most sensitive spot on your neck. “There, yeah?” He ran his tongue over the bite, just to suck a hickey into the spot. 

“Turn around for me.” Letting your leg fall from his side, he took a step back, watching you carefully as you turned to face the wall. Face and chest pressed to the faux brick. “Fuck…” Your dress had ridden up, but not far enough in his humble opinion. He grabbed the fabric and pulled it up over your ass, watching your ass drop-out of the material. The glimpse he'd gotten earlier didn't do you justice, not in the least bit.

He landed a smack to your ass, gripping that same spot before smacking it again. You looked back at him, lust dripping off of your expression. “Don't look at me like that.” He could feel his cheeks flush, his ear burning.

“Like what?” You asked, genuinely curious as to what your expression looked like to him. There was still lust burning in your eyes.

“Like you want me to fuck you. Right here, right now.” He had taken hold of your hips again, his body pressed to yours once more.

“I wouldn't object, if you're asking.” His fingers dug into your hips lightly. He leaned his head on your shoulder and let out an exasperated sigh. He was convinced you were sent to get him to back out of everything he'd once vowed he'd never do again. Maybe Changbin sent you. An agent of chaos.

“You don't seem like the reckless type and that… would be very reckless.” He felt as if he was on the edge of desperation. “You aren't a bad girl, are you?” You whimpered. He hadn't realized you were feeling just as desperate as he was. “You don't want to be a good girl for me? Haven't I earned it?”

He was breaking you down with every word utter from his beautifully plump mouth. “Can't I be both for you?” He nodded against your shoulder.

“Yes, yes you can. Yes, you absolutely can, baby.” His fingers toyed with the lacey waistband of your thong. “As long as I'm offered the same courtesy.” He traced along it until he got to the string sitting snugly between your cheeks. “May I?” He pulled away, just to get another glimpse at your ass.

“Go right ahead.” You by all accounts, were a straight shooter. You usually told it like it was, especially when you'd had a drink or two. But being this bold? With a stranger? Never. This was far from who you usually were. He pulled your panties to the side, taking in the glorious sight before him.

“Fuck…. I've been waiting to see this all night.” He spread your cheeks to get a better view and the visual was almost too much to take in. Your pussy was already ready for him. Your puffy lips were smeared with wetness that had collected throughout the night. He ran his fingers over your lips, shuddering from the warmth of your slickness. 

You moaned feeling his skin make contact with yours. It'd been so long since you'd been touched that you'd almost forgotten what it felt like. “I want to tease you so bad…” His voice was breathy, fingers running up and down your slit, “But you're so fucking wet I can barely contain myself. Your pussy is begging me to fuck it.” He slipped a finger in. You were wet, but he could still feel resistance. He groaned. His mind filled with how wet and tight you were. 

He added a second, knowing almost immediately that he'd have to stretch your pussy out if he expected to fit. If he even made it that far. You  clenched around his two digits as he slid into your wetness. You bit down on your bottom lip, to stifle the moan that was rising in your throat. He gave you no time to adjust, his fingers pleasantly grazing against your walls, in and out. Your eyes fluttered shut, you were numb to any of your surroundings that weren't him

He twisted his fingers, palm now facing down, the eye of a snarling wolf on his hand now watching your back. He was intoxicated by the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of you. Imagination running wild with the thoughts of what it would feel like to be deep inside of you. To feel your tightness squeezing his length, wetness coating it. To see just how your fat little cunt swallowed him.

He needed to add a third, for his sanity. Just as he slipped that third finger in, people rounded the corner. He stuffed them inside of you, covering your mouth with a kiss as he shielded your lower half with his own. You couldn't even comprehend how indecent this was. Your mind is completely consumed with lust.

“Oh- didn't mean to interrupt.” Allana giggled, hands wrapped tightly around Changbin's arm. Changbin gave his friend a knowing look, a smirk dancing across his lips.

“The lounge is free. All the guys booked tonight.” He smiled, patting his shoulder before toting off his client for the night.

“We can't stay here.” Chris spoke lowly into your ear. “Come with me, yeah?” He pulled his fingers from your grip and couldn't stop himself from getting a taste. The way your wetness coated his fingers like the sweetest drips of ice cream from a melting cone, he truly couldn't resist. 

He indulged in sweetness while you adjusted your dress, pulling it down to make you look presentable once again. He was still licking his fingers even after you were done. Needing more than just a taste, he grabbed your hand and tugged you gently along to the lounge. It was a shared space, but with his dressing room being too small and him not having a designated room anymore, the lounge would have to do.

Chris made sure to lock the door. “I don't know how much time we ha-” He was stopped mid-sentence by your lips on his. You pulled him by the belt loops on his pants to the plush white sofa in the middle of the room. Pushing him down on it, you quickly straddled his lap and wrapped your arms around him, resuming the kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips, mingling with the lingering minty freshness. 

Everything was telling him to be a gentleman, to be responsible. To find out how you'd get home if your friends left. He'd gladly take you, but he knew how it would look if he knew your address. Most people wouldn't be comfortable with that, he understood. “Get out of your head.” You spoke against his lips. You could tell he was thinking? That it had nothing to do with the nasty things his other head had been thinking for hours now? “Hey.” Pulling away from the kiss, you grabbed his face, making him look at you. “Whatever it is, worry about it later. I feel like I’ve been edged all night and I really need to be fucked stupid. Okay?”

He chuckled, “Okay.” Your little not so peppy-talk seemed to do it for him. Any and all thoughts not pertaining to this moment he was sharing with you were now out of the window. He needed to see you in all your glory, and thought he appreciated the way that dress fit you, he would much rather see it on the floor. He slipped the straps off your arms, fingers gently trailing down your skin, leaving little goosebumps in its wake.  You let it fall, pulling your arms out. Next to go was your strapless bra, expert fingers quickly rid you of the garment, tossing it somewhere in the vicinity. “You’re perfect.” His thumbs traced over your collarbones, before his fingers joined in over your chest and down to your breast.

“Hardly. But I know how to take a compliment.” You joked, “Thank you.” He touched you like he was trying his best to savor the moment, not wanting it to end. He shook his head, cupping your breast, feeling the weight of them.

“You look perfect to me.” You just hummed, not wanting to argue him down about it. It wasn't worth it and you wanted to stay in the moment. He kissed your sternum, “Get up for me for a second.” You were taken off guard, but you moved off his lap and stood up. He laid down flat on the sofa and beckoned you over with his finger. “Sit on my face. I want to taste you.” It took a second for your brain to catch up with his words.

“Look, just because you might be capable of flipping me does not mean I wouldn't suffocate you-” He groaned, interrupting you.

“I didn't ask. Just come sit on my fucking face.” Your eyes went wide, not expecting him to talk to you like that. But you would be the first to admit it kind of turned you on. You moved with haste, kneeling next to his head before straddling his face. “Good girl.” You were beginning to really like the sound of him calling you that.

You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, careful not to put all your weight on him, keeping most of it on your knees. Chris grew impatient the way you were hovering over him, after pulling your panties to the side once again, he roughly grabbed your hips pulling you down on top of him. His face made the perfect seat for you, enveloped between your cheeks, nose and mouth slotted between your lower lips. His tongue immediately went to work, making you squirm on top of him.

You bit back your moans, even with the other guys being otherwise occupied, you didn’t want to risk being too loud. A hard smack landed on your ass, making you jump and squeeze your thighs around his head. Deft hands spread your cheek; that gave him a little more room to move between the thickness of your ass and pussy lips. Not wanting to be the only one to receive pleasure, you leaned forward, sliding a hand into his pants. You gripped his member with one hand and pushed his boxers under his balls with the other.

You gasped at the sight of his thick cock; mouth immediately salivating. He slid his thumb into your cunt, making your grip on him tighten. He groaned against your clit, stopping for a second just to commence his torture of your pussy. But two could play that game, right? You went to work, testing out the waters first.  Seeing just how much of his big cock you could take. You spit on it, letting it dribble down his length. “Good girl.” He spoke between your folds.

Making sure his member was completely wet, you gripped the shaft with two hands and took him back in your mouth. Your mouth and hands moving simultaneously on his dick made him sigh with pleasure. It'd been a while since he'd been touched by anyone besides himself and he needed the relief more than you knew. Your mouth was the perfect amount of wet and the way you slurped was the perfect amount of nasty. He replaced his thumb with his index and middle fingers, going slow at first before quickening his pace to match yours. 

Wet noises replaced the background club noise that filled the room earlier. Chris loved the way you tasted on his tongue but he needed to get his dick wet with more than saliva. With a hard smack to your ass, he spoke up, “Turn around for me.” He had figured out that in order to get his point across with you he needed to be assertive. He was normally polite, but politeness could wait for later. “I need to be inside of you.” 

You were so needy you didn’t even think twice about his request. You let his cock go with some resistance, a small pop resounding through the room as you pulled him from your mouth. You must have been moving a little too slow for his liking, because the next thing you knew, you were flipped over onto your back, legs spread but also close to your chest as his cock slid between your folds. “I don’t mean to be impatient…” He paused, groaning as the back of his tip brushed over your clit, sending chills through his body. You were beyond wet, more especially now that he’d added his saliva to the mix. “I need you.”

You could feel the heat travel from the center of your chest, up your neck, to your face. His words felt genuine, even under the circumstances. He leaned in, kissing your lips, distracting you from him lining himself up with your entrance. The kiss was intoxicating. Enough so that it made your hip buck up into his, the tip of his cock consequently sliding into you. Your breath hitched, eyes rolling back at the unexpected stretch. “Patience is a virtue, beautiful.” He chuckled darkly. Was this the same man who couldn’t even give you time to flip around yourself? He was now telling you that patience was indeed a virtue, but it was clearly something neither of you had. “Fuck you feel so good..” He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since he flipped you over, and honestly, he didn’t know if he would be able to. You were gorgeous to him. Every single last inch. The wet sound of his hips harshly slamming into your filled the room, tuning out the muffled club music.

The way he was filling you up, stretching your walls deliciously, was absolutely mind boggling. He felt so good inside of you that you almost didn’t know what was up or down. Your nails dug into his forearms. Your jaw was slack, eyes threatening to close. “Fuck…. Yes.. there…” He had readjusted his hips, digging his knees into the couch, pushing your legs towards your armpits. You’d never been stretched like this, and you meant that in more than one way. He focused his eyes on the mess that was accumulating between the two of you. Your wetness was accompanied by your cream, his cock was dripping with your essence. The sound, the sight, the smell, the taste, everything was getting to him. You moaned loud, eyes glossed over, unable to hide your feelings from him anymore.

Your eyes were just as dark as his, both of you caught in the torrent of ecstasy. He leaned in, pecked at your lips, then your jaw, over your neck and chest, to your breast , draggin his tongue across the flesh before haphazardly sucking the pebbled bud into his mouth. Your hands flew to his hair. Fingers tugging on the sweat slicked curls at his nape. He moaned and that sent you barreling towards orgasm. You spread your legs wider, begging to feel more of him. He picked up his speed, his wet mouth dragging across your chest to give your other tit the same treatment. His ability to multitask was truly astounding.

Normally you’d put in some type of effort, hell-bent on not being some random man's pillow princess, but the way this man was putting in work all you could do was lie there and take it. You squeezed your already tight walls around him, making his hips stutter. “Don’t play games you know you won’t win.” He spoke gruffly, lips still pressed to your feverish skin. “Quit while you're ahead, baby.” That felt like a challenge. Part of you wanted to know just what he planned to do if you didn’t ‘quit while you were ahead’. So you tested it.

Every drag out of your cunt earned a clench. The first time he let it go, but the second time caused him to groan, eyes rolling into the back of his head. “You’re fucking killing me…” He grumbled, doing a few shallow and quick thrusts just to throw you off. He pulled out completely, tapping his slick riddled cock against your clit. A tiny drizzle of cum shooting from his tip and landing on your already messy pussy. “Look at how wet you have my dick. You even have me cumming a little already… fuck… you're perfect” He bit down on his swollen bottom lip, teasing you with just the tip of his dick. He enjoyed the way your cunt looked wrapped around him. You tried to wrap your legs around him, groaning when he caught on, pushing your legs back towards your chest.

“Nuh-huh, you think after all of that I’ll let that pretty pussy of yours get what it wants?” The sinister look he gave you as his lips curled into a smile would have been terrifying if it didn’t turn you on. “Not a chance, sweetheart.” He laughed innocently as if he didn’t just stuff you full of cock moments ago. “You’ll be lucky if I let you come.” He smirked, sitting back on his legs, he grabbed at your hips, swiftly turning you around. You didn’t even get a chance to protest. It happened faster than your mind could process. A few throw pillows were stuffed up under your stomach, successfully elevating your hips. “Fuck… would you look at that?”

You didn’t even know him well, but you could tell he was pleased with himself. He smacked both your cheeks before spreading them wide. Wild thoughts were running through his mind at the sight. He spit on your pussy before using his tongue to lap up all of the cream that was spread over it, your asshole, and your thighs. A man starved. That's what he ate like. It was your turn for your eyes to roll back, you gripped at the armrest, pushing your hips further into his face. Those plush lips in combination with that thick tongue? Heavenly. You could feel the coil in the bottom of your belly twist up and just as it was about to snap, hell pulled away with a soft chuckle.

You whined. You needed that release. “My turn…” You don't know what exactly came over him, but it was like he snapped. He slid back into your wanton cunt, causing your pussy to queef from suddenly being filled to the brim. You squealed, not used to your body making that sound. He placed his hand over the lower part of your back, just above your butt, pressing down to make you arch for him. And that's when all hell broke loose. This man had to be the spawn of the devil with the way he was after your soul. He was desperately trying to snatch your life force right out of your body with every deep thrust he gave you. Your walls fluttered around him, he moved his hands to your hips, nails digging into your skin as a way to ground himself. He was muttering things to himself, it honestly sounded like a bunch of gibberish to you. But then again, it was hard to concentrate on anything other than how hard he felt inside of you. “Fuck… this pussy is so good.” He groaned, pressing his hips flush against yours, hitting the deepest spot inside of you.

Your toes curled, vision turning white from the sensation. You didn’t even realize you were cumming until he pulled all the way out. “Please… please put it back in.” You begged, hole begging to be filled again, even though you just came. He obliged. He wanted to get off just as you had, but this time he wasn’t out for revenge, he slowly entered you, letting you feel every inch and vein. It had been a while since you last had some, and then it wasn’t much to write home about. This? Him? You’d shout it from the rooftops if you had to, this man’s dick game was impeccable. You moaned and writhed under him. He trached a hand up your sweat slick back, grabbing ahold of your neck and pulling you up and back towards him. His other arm wrapped around your tummy as he drug his lips over your shoulder, speaking a melange of your name and several curse words. He was in heaven. His heart pounded hard against his chest, any sounds but the ones that reverberated off the walls in this room were a non factor to him. He was here, at this moment, with the beautiful woman he spotted out in the crowd.

You hoped there was a hidden camera in this room that could pinpoint your time of death, because you could have sworn you ascended. Your tongue was hanging out of your mouth, eyes slightly closed, a severely fucked out expression on your face. You were dripping wet, walls still quivering around him, and he loved every bit of it. “You’re so fucking good, baby… so tight.. Wet… fuck..” His voice progressively got whinier, his end was near.  His hand moved from the back of your neck to the front, squeezing lightly. His conclusion was right on the tip of his tongue, the words begging to fall from his lips. His hips stuttered, his arm around your middle pulling you impossibly close. He gave a few sharp thrusts, “Fuck- baby, I-I’m gonna come… I’m gonna..” He cried out, once against pushing his pelvis completely against yours as he spilled his seed inside of your begging cunt. You moaned, the feeling of his warm cum painting your walls was enough to make them quiver again, threatening to overstimulate him. “Fuck, baby.. Too tight..” He spoke, while thrusting his cum deeper into your cunt. It took a spell of labored breaths and soft whimpers before he came down enough to pull his softening cock from inside of you. If he let you go right now you were sure you would fall face first into the cushions of this couch. 

You were blissed and fucked out, a crooked smile set on your face. He laid you down gently, watching your cunt to see if any of his seed dripped out, to see if he indeed fucked it deep enough. He smirked to himself when the only proof that he came inside of you was the small snail trail he broke when he pulled out. The room was silent for a while, the sound of the muted club music was no longer drowned out by the sound of sex. You’d close your eyes, honestly ready to knock out for the next couple hours if he let you.  He on the other hand had his eyes focused right on your pussy, still wet from the night's events. “My gosh… you are a dangerous, dangerous woman.” His dick twitched when you pulled your knees together to get a little more comfortable. He sighed, this just wouldn’t do. “I don’t usually do this… but.. I honestly don’t think I’m done with you for the night.” His words caused you to quickly open your eyes and turn around. Your eyes traveled from his face to check if he was serious, down to his semi-hard dick. “Would you mind… coming back to my place for.. Round two… or three?” 

Your eyes were wide. There was no way this man was serious. “Only if you are down. If not, we can hit the showers and I can escort you back to you-” You stopped him with a sensual kiss.

“Yes.” You spoke against his lips. Maybe being a bridesmaid paid off this time.

FIN

[navybrat817]

In a Red Dress

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has to debrief after a mission, so you decide to stop in for a visit. In a red dress.

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Established relationship, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, flirting, teasing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Happy FriYAY! I started this in January for @tumblin-theworldaway and finally finished it today. Love you, Aqua! I hope you can relax soon. Could be considered a follow up to With a Bang. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Your heels clicked along the floor as you left the elevator, reminding yourself for the umpteenth time that it wasn't Bucky’s fault that his team extended their mission for another day. Unforeseen circumstances were to blame, completely out of his control. You also couldn't hold it against him that he had to debrief after he messaged you that he arrived back home safely and unharmed. It was part of the job. Still, you missed him and wanted a bit of attention.

Which was why you showed up at S.H.I.E.L.D. in a silky red dress and Bucky’s dog tags under your coat. No bra, no panties. Which he realized when you walked into the conference room, unannounced, and removed your coat.

It was fun to put the fire in his steel eyes.

“Welcome home, Bucky,” you smiled as the room went silent. “Don’t mind me. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Your burly boyfriend was out of his seat and didn't tear his gaze away from you, the tension thick as you tossed the coat away. Today was a good day for your self confidence. You wore it like a second skin, feeling as beautiful on the outside as you did inside. You knew you looked good enough to eat and you wanted him to devour you.

And as much as you loved him in his black shirt and tactical pants, it hid the wall of muscle you wanted to trace with your hands and tongue.

“Hey, baby. Fancy seeing you here,” he said, his eyes dropping to your chest. Your nipples hardened against the fabric and you wished he’d latch his mouth to them. “And speaking of home, I thought I was going to meet you there.”

Your shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I got impatient since you were late. Plus I wanted to show you my dress,” you said, doing a happy twirl. It was reminiscent of New Years. The soft fabric hugged your body tight like your black dress did, but this one left little to the imagination. “What do you think?”

Steve, ever the good friend, averted his gaze, but a scowl crossed Bucky’s handsome face when you both realized that other agents looked your way. You hadn't expected to be the center of attention for anyone else, but it didn't matter to you if others looked. Why would you want them when Bucky had you under his spell?

At least they were smart enough to look away when Bucky’s metal hand clenched.

“Well? Do you like it? I thought the dog tags were a nice touch,” you added, running a finger along them when he remained silent. “They really do go well with everything.”

“Come here,” he said, beckoning you with a metal finger. You knew he meant business when he didn't use his dominant hand. “Now.”

You maintained an aura of innocence as you walked toward him, watching him his lips as your hips swayed.

“I can see your nipples through your dress,” he said low enough for just the two of you, but poor Steve with his enhanced hearing likely picked up on it. “And I’m pretty sure I didn’t give you permission to wear a dress like that in front of other guys.”

Any other guy who said that to you would've been smacked, but hearing it from him only made your eyes fill with amusement as you tilted your head. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to wear this, Sergeant.”

“Baby,” he whispered. You knew what calling him by his rank did to him.

“I should be able to wear what I want and when I want to. We both know that,” you continued, sliding your finger down his chest instead of poking it like he expected. “But you have my permission to break someone's fingers if they try to touch what belongs to you. Because I do belong to you.”

Your declaration fueled the fire within. There was no hesitation on your part. No doubt. And after being apart for a short time, you wanted him to hear you say you were his girl.

“Yeah, you do. You’re mine,” he said with a raspy touch of confidence that would’ve soaked your panties had you been wearing any. “And I’m all yours, but I still need to debrief.”

You huffed, but the conviction in his tone was admirable. “Fine. I’ll just wait here,” you said when he frowned. Both of you knew the classified information wasn’t meant for your ears, yet no one spoke up for you to leave. Were they afraid of pissing your boyfriend off? “You know, I really do love that grumpy look of yours. It gets me so wet.”

Bucky’s cheek twitched when one of the men coughed. “You're being a fucking tease.”

“Is it teasing if I let you have me?” You asked, tapping your chin. “Teasing you would be letting you go to bed with blue balls.”

Wordlessly, he lifted a hand and clutched the dog tags. He yanked on them hard enough to move you closer, his eyes not leaving yours when you gasped and shivered from the heat-filled look. You considered it a win that you didn’t collapse. Because he was going to destroy you and you’d love every second of it.

“Be very careful what comes out of your mouth next, baby,” he warned.

You smiled, more than ready to give him one more push. “I’m more interested in what’s supposed to go inside my mouth.”

His nostrils flared when you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue and throat. He put a hand on the back of your neck and tilted your head back, lightly nipping at your skin below your jaw. “I should put you on your knees and fuck your throat in front of everyone. Or put you over my knee and spank you ‘til you squirm. Show ���em that you really are mine.”

You giggled, a soft and tempting sound. “Why fuck my throat when my pussy is nice and wet for you?”

“Gentlemen. I think the Bravo Conference Room is available. Let’s finish this up there,” Steve announced, his chair scraping against the floor and pulling you out of your spell. “Told you that you should’ve just gone home, jerk.”

“Fuck off, punk,” Bucky said, keeping a firm hand on you so you couldn’t look at any of the men filing out. The smirk he gave you was nothing short of predatory once the door clicked shut, leaving the two of you alone. “Since you need my cock so badly that you can’t wait until I get home, bend over that table and let me give it to you.”

Your giggle quickly died in your throat when you realized he was serious. “You’ve never fucked me in one of the debriefing rooms. Someone could walk in,” you reminded him.

Yeah, you showed up wearing what you did. Yeah, you teased him. But it was all in good fun. He wouldn’t actually fuck you on the table.

Right?

Your cheeks grew hot at the next words out of his mouth. “You think I give a shit about if someone walks in?”

He let go of your neck and grabbed your wrist, carefully dragging you to the table. You loved every part of him, but something about his unashamed want of you made your heart soar. Maybe it was because of how much he healed and allowed himself to have a piece of happiness. That some part of him from his past, the man he used to be, surfaced and blended in with who he was now.

Heaven sent and survived the depths of Hell.

“Now, I should spank your ass raw for this little stunt you pulled. Letting them see you in this dress,” he said without any real threat behind his words. “But I won’t do that until we’re home.”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled, expecting him to bend you over. But he brought a hand to your cheek instead. “Bucky?”

His gaze moved to your lips as he murmured, “Not fucking you until I kiss you.”

His mouth met yours not in a frenzy, but with a smile. The kind that told you how happy he was to be back with you. It wasn’t long before he shifted, the hand on your cheek slipping to your chin so he could deepen it. The soft slip of his tongue ignited your entire body, feeling his heart beat faster as you brought a hand to his chest. A reminder that he was alive, home, and loved you.

You loved him, too.

Your eyes stayed shut for a few seconds after he pulled away. “Missed you, Bucky,” you whispered.

“Missed you, too,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “Now bend over.”

The air rushed from your lungs at the switch from want to tenderness to need, your chest pressed against the table as he pushed your dress. Part of you wondered if he would’ve made good on his threat and fuck you in front of the other agents. He liked to toe the line of wanting to show others you were his and not wanting them to see intimate parts of you.

Which made you wonder what he’d do if someone walked in. He said he didn’t give a shit, but would he stop and try to cover your body with his own? Or would he keep fucking you?

You wouldn't mind either way.

“Spread ‘em,” he ordered, which you immediately obeyed. The low whistle made you shut your eyes before he dragged a finger along your exposed slit. “Didn’t even bother covering your pretty pussy with underwear. Probably best since you would’ve ruined them with how wet you are.”

“You’ve ruined all of my panties, Bucky,” you said, the distinct sound of his belt buckle and pants zipper making you moan. “And I’m ready for you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? Your pussy ready to stretch around my cock?” He asked, making you shriek when he unexpectedly brought his flesh hand down hard on your ass. He only used the metal when you were in real trouble. “You better not have fucked yourself with a toy before you got here.”

“I didn’t! I haven’t even touched myself,” you promised before he stretched over your back. “I just need you in me.”

“That’s what I like to hear. And though you interrupted my debriefing and I may need to stab a teammate or two, you’re still my good girl. And good girls deserve rewards,” he growled in your ear, nipping it for good measure as you moaned. The head of his cock teased your entrance, your core clenching in anticipation. “I’ll fuck you and you’ll come all over me, just like you want and just like I need. And you’ll take it ‘til I’m done with you.”

You reveled in being his good girl, even when you were bad. How no one else could take his cock the way you could. How he made you soak your sheets day and night with your essence because being fucked by Bucky Barnes made you gush like a geyser. It was obscene.

“I’m your good girl and I’ll take everything you give me,” you said sweetly, knowing he’d fuck you whether you said it or not. “So let my pussy welcome your cock home, please?”

The soft kiss to your neck was almost like an apology before he pushed into you, both of you moaning. He’d check later to make sure you weren’t sore since he didn’t stretch you at all, but the slight ache when he bottomed out always bordered more on pleasure than pain. The overwhelming sensations of him inside you made your eyes roll back and he hadn’t even started thrusting.

“So fucking warm. And wet,” he grunted in your ear when he finally moved, his pants rubbing against your bare thighs. “Jesus fuck, you’re soaking me.”

Bucky robbed you of your breath when he leaned up and gripped your hips, hammering into you. You tried to grip the table, but all you could do was let him pull you back and forth. He was relentless like this, powerful, dominant. Making you take it, just like he said you would. Funny how minutes ago you were the one confidently teasing him and now you were a whining, needy mess. All because his cock shut your brain off.

You didn’t need to think like this anyway. You could be his doll, just for him to play with and love. In your pretty red dress or nothing at all.

“Harder, Sergeant,” you begged, your moans spurring him on.

“Not hard enough for you? Needy little thing,” he groaned, the sound of him burying himself inside you over and over echoing in your ears. “Missed this cunt. Missed you.”

Your pussy gripped him tight, the heady bliss making your vision blur. “Missed you. M… Missed your cock,” you slurred.

He chuckled, not slowing his pace as he leaned back down to tickle your cheek with his scruff. “So fucking cute when you get drunk on my cock.”

You wondered some days where he learned to talk dirty before you remembered that you had a large hand in that. He loved telling you how greedy your pussy made him. How he loved watching his spend slide out of you so he could fuck it back in. How he’s shocked some days that he can fit inside you, so he must’ve turned you into a perfect cocksleeve.

His cock made your mind numb, but your pussy made him run his mouth.

“Gonna make you sit on it when we get home. Fuck, gonna make you ruin the sheets when I fuck you into the mattress,” he rambled, making you moan louder. You didn’t care who heard. Let them hear what he did to you. What he turned you into: his needy slut. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you moaned, his thrusts pushing your breasts harder against the table, your nipples hard and aching for him to touch them. He would later. You could wait. But you couldn’t wait to fall over the precipice. “‘M gonna come.”

“Do it. Won’t stop you,” he encouraged. He no doubt felt how close you were with how you clenched around him, your back starting to arch. “C’mon, baby. Come all over me.”

Your eyes fluttered as your body tensed, your walls pulsing around him your orgasm surged like a tidal wave. The ripples tore through you, ebbing and flowing as you moaned his name. If you could drown in pleasure, you’d want his name to be the last word that spilled from your lips.

“That’s my girl,” he praised as your limbs went lax.

You throbbed around him until he pulled out, making you whimper since he didn't come. You wanted him to finish inside you. He had you on your back with your legs spread wide before you could beg for it, keeping your dress up as he speared you once again. He thrust fast, needing his release just as badly as you needed yours.

“Need to see your face when you milk my cock,” he grunted, licking his thumb and bringing it to your clit. You whined, jerking underneath him as he rubbed the swollen nub. “Oh, stay still. You can give me one more.”

You almost denied him before you felt the coil tighten within you again. You never thought you could have back-to-back orgasms until you started sleeping with him. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. He played you like his favorite instrument and you were his good girl.

You could give him one more.

“Come with me,” you panted, staring into his darkened eyes as his face twisted in ecstasy only you could provide him. “Please.”

He couldn’t resist that last bit of begging.

The waves crashed again, adding to your first high, as his mouth opened in a groan, filling you in hot spurts. Watching him tip over the edge was a sight to behold, his cheeks tinged as his hips stilled and both of you tried to catch your breath. He laid across you after a moment, the weight of him making you sigh.

“Welcome back,” you smiled as your breathing evened out.

He stayed inside you as he brushed his lips against yours. You were going to make a mess all over the table when he pulled out, but it was worth any grief either of you got. “Good to be back,” he whispered, his hand on your cheek again in a tender display as his eyes scanned your face. “So beautiful.”

“Me fucked out or the dress?” You smiled.

“Both,” he smiled back, your face warm.

“Thank you,” you breathed, your heart still racing fast. You suddenly wished you were in bed so he could properly hold you. But he’d have you home soon enough for that. “Hope I didn't get you into any trouble,” you added. That was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Steve gets it,” he assured you, briefly closing his eyes when you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry we got back late. He’s right. I should've just gone right home.”

Your heart clenched a little at that. Missions were important and not easy on either of you, but it was his job. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you made it home safely,” you said, arching your back. The table wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were too fucked out to care.

You also didn't want to be apart from him since he was back.

He wrapped an arm underneath you to ease some of your strain. “Still teased me by showing up like this. I might fuck your throat and put you over my knee tonight,” he groaned, squeezing a breast through your dress before he straightened out the dog tags. “But then I’m going to hold you after and not let go.”

You smiled, looking forward to it. “Yes, Sergeant.”

And you'd be sure to thank Steve later for clearing out the room so you could welcome your man home.

Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business! Hehe. 😇 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[astralaffairs]

freedom of the press 09 | t. jefferson

words: 13.5k

warnings: sex

desc: the 2020 republican presidential frontrunner is an obnoxious, morally bankrupt people-pleaser, but what happens when you become the person he’s most eager to please?

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa @hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies @fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach @snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed @rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk @daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich @cryinghazelnutt @thefandomgirl03 @a-hopeless-fan @cloudynblw @tinywhim @lolidunnoaboutnow @siriusorionblackiii @fanfic-addict-98 @nyxie75 @i-know-i-can @yxseminx @yavin4andor @sugacita @sstrawberry-fanta @youtxbemusic @queenwilty @someinsanefangirl @foudre-aqua @whatevs2000 @rwr-ites @maxi-ride @moose-on-the-l00se @itshaileyn @toxicidity @malos-moving @luckyfriesss @lovecass123

THOMAS HAD WOKEN up feeling sick.

At first, he couldn't place the reason. He'd been drinking enough water and taking his multivitamins, he hadn't eaten anything bad (as far as he knew), and despite what Lafayette thought, he hadn't been drinking.

It was only when he pulled himself out of bed that the prior night’s events caught up with him, the information surfing on the fresh wave of nausea that rolled over him as he stood. When he glanced over at his mirror, the face staring back looked bedraggled and gaunt.

He powered his phone off immediately after checking the time when he was met with a screen full of texts from the last person he wanted to hear from; he dragged himself through his morning routine in a haze as his thoughts spiraled, inventing increasingly creative stories for how he’d ended up at that point. Who had given the interview? What else had she been lying about?

"I got a lot more attached to you than I meant to, alright?"

What finally broke him out of his stupor was a knock at the door at half past three P.M. He cupped a hand around his mouth to check his breath; he hadn’t had anything to eat but coffee, but he was grateful to have convinced himself to take a shower and brush his teeth.

When he opened the door, Thomas furrowed his brow. “Lafayette?”

“I ‘ave come with food and cigarettes.”

“I don’t smoke cigarettes.”

“Y/N told me what happened.” His discerning gaze made Thomas hold his tongue, wavering on his intention to tell Lafayette to kick rocks. “I did not think you would want to be alone, and I assumed zat you could use a cigarette.”

When Lafayette raised his eyebrows expectantly, Thomas sighed.

“Alright, c’mon in. Can't have you stay long, though; ‘m busy getting ready for my rally tomorrow.” He stepped aside to let Lafayette by, and he started toward the kitchen as Thomas locked the door behind him.

“I am sorry to hear what happened.”

“What exactly did she tell you?”

“Zat she hurt you,” Lafayette said simply, and Thomas’s eyebrows shot up. “She told me that her editor has ze article about your past and that she told you about it. I hear you did not take it well.”

“Oh, gimme a goddamn break,” Thomas snapped. “How the hell am I supposed to take the news that the person I’m seein’ has been planning to tell the whole world I was an alcoholic?”

“Poorly. There is no other way to take it.” He put the bag he carried on Thomas’s counter and started withdrawing styrofoam boxes. “Why do you think I am here? I am on your side. And I ordered southern American food. I did not know much about it, so I ordered one of everything.”

“One of everything?” Thomas repeated curiously, reaching for a box, and Lafayette nodded. Thomas’s eyes widened when he opened it. “That’s a lotta macaroni ‘n cheese.”

“I also have fried chicken, grilled asparagus, waffles, shrimp and grubs—”

“Shrimp ‘n grits?”

“—Collard greens, cornbread, and something called a ‘hushed puppy.’”

“You didn’t need to come here ‘n do all that, Laf.” Thomas’s demeanor had softened considerably as Lafayette had withdrawn his many containers of food, laying them out on the counter. “‘S awful sweet, but I’m doin’ fine. I’m pissed, but I’ve handled a whole lotta abuse from the press already this campaign cycle.”

“Not like this, and not from her." At Lafayette's knowing look, Thomas appeared perturbed. "You may lie to yourself all you want, but you cannot lie to me about zis. I see it. I see ze two of you together, and I cannot imagine zis being anything like what you have experienced with ze media before.”

Thomas hesitated, not meeting his eyes, but as he stared down at the boxes of greasy takeout, his gaze was unfocused.

“Yeah,” Thomas finally said, pulling open a drawer to withdraw two forks. “I didn’t expect this from her. Thought she had more integrity than that.”

“Try, just for a moment, to understand ze dilemma she faces.”

His skeptical gaze shot to Lafayette. “Thought you said you didn’t come here to defend her.”

“I did not, but I do not know zat zis is a question of her integrity,” Lafayette reasoned. “Someone is out there giving interviews with ze press about your past with alcohol addiction. If she does not write zis article, someone else will.”

“She shoulda come directly to me about it, then. I coulda got out in front of it.”

“You still can, and you still should,” he said, “but her job is to write about you. She hasn’t betrayed anything you’ve shared with her in confidence, she simply interviewed someone with much to say about your past.”

“Yeah, till the article comes out and it’s everything I told her about Martha,” Thomas said cynically.

“The article does not mention Martha. It makes no reference to any past lover or to your engagement.”

“I can’t take her at her word on that anymore,” Thomas said incredulously. “Be serious, she’s gonna do whatever she wants with what she knows.”

“I can assure you, it does not even offer an implication. I ‘ave read it, Thomas.”

“You’ve read it?” His voice was stunned, and he froze as he was opening a container of food. “How long have you known about this?”

“Not much longer than you. After she wrote it, she came to me for guidance.”

“And you didn’t tell her to shut it down?”

“I advised against her publishing it, but she is not ze editor of ze Post. I am not sure how long zat remains in her power for. So I told her to talk to you.”

“Yeah, ‘n look where that got us,” Thomas grumbled, and Lafayette sighed.

“Would you not rather know?”

“I’d rather you told me the goddamn minute you found out about it,” he snapped. “God, I’ve known you for years; where the hell’s your loyalty? A pretty girl walks into the scene and all of a sudden I take a back seat?”

"You know zat is not what zis is," Lafayette shot back. “Oui, she is my friend, but I refrained from coming to you about this because I know zat she cares about you. And you care about her, so you should understand why I wanted to give her ze chance to make things right."

"Oh, please. Don't come here telling me she cares and didn't mean to hurt me." His voice was sharp and dismissive. "She knows what this article's about. She knows what she's doing."

“She is under pressure you do not understand.”

“I think I understand just fine. She’s got priorities; she’s got a career, ‘n that comes before me. Shoulda realized how far that went, but I didn’t. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“She does not have security in the way that you do, Thomas,” Lafayette reminded him. “She works two jobs and still has problems with paying her bills. She cannot afford to lose zis job.”

“She's got plenty of people she could stay with while she found another.”

“So you think zat you should be more important zan her income?” he challenged. Thomas didn't respond, only frowned. “She should be quitting her job to delay her source finding a journalist willing to publish zis story?”

“I don't mean it like that.” His frustrated voice had grown quieter. “She shoulda never let it get this far, though. She could've lied to her editor about the interview ‘n never written the article.”

“Her manager knew she was interviewing someone. What would she have written about after?”

“I don't know, alright?” His words came as an outburst, and they were followed by a huff. He continued, voice softer, “I don't know what she shoulda done. All I know is this wasn't the right answer. Y'know what she told me? Said she cared too much about me to know how to write about me, and that she got too close. But none of that stopped her from writing this, so I dunno what to believe anymore. Nobody who cared would try ‘n air this out.”

“The way she writes about it is not flippant.” Lafayette's gentle tone matched Thomas’. “She writes about you as someone who ‘as succeeded in the face of struggle, not as someone who chose a life of vices.”

“I don't wanna hear it anymore, Laf. You oughta leave if you're just here to defend her. We both know that, no matter what you say about it, telling voters a presidential candidate was an alcoholic is a nail in the coffin.”

“For whatever it is worth, I see you as someone who ‘as overcome great animosity against all odds,” Lafayette offered. Thomas shot him a sidelong glance as he closed the container of macaroni and cheese. “Truly. You have everything to be proud of. Regardless of how people may react to zis, do not forget all zat you have done to become who you are today.”

“Thanks,” Thomas said weakly. “I can only hope the voters are gonna see it that way.”

“If you do not win this election, you will still forever be who you are.” Lafayette's words made Thomas purse his lips as he reached for the small plastic container of gravy sitting atop the tin of mashed potatoes. “Remember that your whole life has not been leading up to this moment; it will continue on after it regardless of the outcome.”

A long silence passed as Thomas stared down at the gravy, visible through the barely-opaque white plastic. A dent was forming in the styrofoam container he'd placed it onto as he held it in his tense hand. The styrofoam tore, and he snapped back to the kitchen.

“I know,” he finally said. “But I do appreciate the reminder.”

“I trust that you will keep yourself reasonable throughout this election cycle. You are a smart man.”

“And if I don't, that's what I've got you for.” The smile he gave Lafayette was weak but wholehearted. “Now, we've got a whole lotta food here. You gonna hang around and help me eat it all?”

“I thought you said you needed to prepare for your rally tomorrow,” Lafayette said hesitantly, and Thomas shrugged.

“I think I could use the distraction. ‘N they just put Jurassic Park on Netflix.”

“I am glad to hear it. I cleared my calendar before I came over; I would hate for it to ‘ave been for nothing.”

Thomas' laugh was surprisingly earnest. “Would it be too on-the-nose to break out the bourbon for the occasion?”

“As someone who has written no articles about you lately, I cannot imagine why it would be.”

—---------

GIVEN WHAT SHE had told him, Thomas couldn't break his pace campaigning. He went through with his rally the next day and appeared at a nonprofit-sponsored event the day after as the keynote speaker. He shook hands and took selfies, kissed babies and signed foreheads. He politely declined one woman's request to sign her breasts as a stencil for her next tattoo.

He was playing his role as a media darling the way he always had, blithely and jovially, and his numbers were up in the polls. (James was telling him so, at least; he'd stopped checking for fear of seeing how far they might drop.) Part of that, however, was keeping the Washington Post far from his events. Regardless of who at the Post filed for press admittance, they weren't coming, and he was making sure of that himself. Besides, he had enough coverage.

He was waiting quite patiently for the other shoe to drop as he buttressed his image, though, checking Twitter between podcast interviews and university appearances. He'd become quite sly about sneaking glances at his phone as it poked just a degree out of his pocket, but all he ever saw were texts he had no intention of answering and DMs on Twitter that conferred Y/N's assumption that he'd blocked her number. James had caught on, however, to how preoccupied Thomas was. He would trail off in the middle of a sentence when he noticed his averted gaze, and he watched his eyes glaze over when interviewers made small talk before his appearances, and Thomas caught his skeptical gaze on many occasions. Thomas averted his eyes quickly when he did so.

Nothing damning ever crossed the headlines, and Thomas, too, began to realize he was operating on borrowed time. He wasn't sure how much time he'd borrowed, and he wasn't sure how much he'd have to give back. Neither realization was a relief. It only built his anticipation for the weeks that followed, and he grew more scattered and more concerned about what was to come until—

“Thomas.”

His head snapped up at the stern sound of James’ voice. It was a tone usually reserved for Charles Lee and his father, and Thomas had a hunch as to why he was hearing it just then.

“We need to talk.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He was in his office at the space they were leasing for their campaign headquarters, a dingy old building that may have been considered glamorous in the early ‘70s, but its interior had never been renovated, so it now simply looked dated. James took a seat across from him.

“Where the hell has your head been at for the past couple weeks?”

“What do you mean?” He answered a little too quickly, and James narrowed his eyes.

“You're always on your phone. Even when you're making appearances in public, you're not entirely there, and in meetings, you definitely aren't. Something is obviously up.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes. “What're you accusing me of?”

James looked taken aback. “Nothing. I'm asking: I can tell something happened, but what? I want to know if you're okay.”

“You wanna know if I'm okay?”

“Yes. Of course I do,” he said, frowning, and Thomas’ creased brow softened a degree. “We've been friends for years. I'm worried about you, not upset.”

“Right, yeah. ‘Course.” Thomas dragged a hand through his curls as he took a deep breath, not meeting James’ gaze. “Sorry. ‘M just stressed.”

“I can tell.”

“I learned somethin’ last week that's bad for us. Bad for me, really, but it's a problem for our campaign if it pans out, y’know?” His words were agitated and scattered, and when he finally looked James in the eye, he sighed. “A friend in the press told me there's somebody out there giving interviews about my history as an alcoholic. Sounds like they claim to know more than they really do, but at any point now, that information might come out.”

“I see.” James’ lips were pursed. “Would that friend happen to be Y/N L/N?”

Thomas frowned. “Yeah. Why?”

He hesitated, looking down as he collected his thoughts. Slowly, he said, “You two seem quite close in a way that concerns me. Is there anything I should know about that?”

Thomas’ stomach had curdled. “Nah, I mean… Dunno what you mean, really. She's just a professional contact.”

“And the dynamic between you two at work events? Your choice to rent out the restaurant she works at for a rally?”

“Hey, I've been goin’ to that restaurant for a whole lot longer than she's been workin’ there.”

“That's beside the point.”

“I dunno if it is.”

“Thomas. Be straight with me.” James eyed his stiff shoulders and the way he sat rigidly upright in his chair; his stance was unnatural. “You're communicating with her outside of professional channels, and you aren't taking the things you learn straight back to us. Frankly, it's unprofessional of you.”

Thomas eyed him with a knit brow, trying to keep his surprise peripheral. “I… Yeah, sorry. Shoulda communicated better.”

“And why didn't you? Something about Y/N L/N seems to cloud your judgment, and I'm not sure where that's coming from.”

He'd have to remind himself to thank Dolley for her discretion. “Dunno what to tell you. We haven't really been communicating, it's just this, ‘n I've been distracted cause I don't know what to do about the interview somebody's been givin’ about me. You don't have to worry, either; we're not friends, ‘n she's not gonna be around in the future.”

James furrowed his brow. “What does that mean?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but it took him a moment to collect the words, “Just haven't seen her at our events. Her assignment must've changed.”

“...Right.”

As they looked across Thomas’ desk at one another, neither had the heart to note all the media inquiries he'd declined from the Post in the preceding weeks.

—--

Y/N WASN'T HAVING the time of her life either. In the weeks that followed, every media request she submitted was painstaking, wrenched from her hands by her manager and laced with shame and anxiety. She was having increasing trouble justifying why finding a reliable source for her article was giving her so much trouble, but her countless declined media requests had been giving her an easier out.

The closest she came to him for several weeks was his open speaking events—rallies, cocktail hours, fundraisers and the like—despite her numerous texts and calls. She even managed to get James’ and Lafayette's ears on a couple different occasions, but the only person who gave her the time of day was Dolley. Even then, in contrast to James’ and Lafayette's dismissal, all she received was passive pity. She'd asked her how she'd liked the Pacific Northwest — that was where Thomas’s campaign had led them most recently.

“Oh, you know. Lots of rain.” Dolley’s words were accompanied with a sad smile. “I'm glad to be back on the east coast, I suppose.”

“Would you really consider DC to be the east coast?”

She only shrugged. “Maybe not. But all the same, it's good to be home.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Sorry campaigning hasn't been all it's cracked up to be.”

“No, no, it's been fine. Don't worry about me, dear. How… how have you been, though?”

Y/N's hopeful expression froze, and although Dolly's was unchanged, she couldn't help but feel that something had shifted. She swallowed as she regained her warm smile.

“I've been good, Doll. Working lots of hours, but nothing too terrible.”

“Good, good. I haven't seen you at too many campaign events recently, you know.”

“Right, well. Traveling that far would just be a bit of an ordeal.”

“Of course.” Dolley touched Y/N's arm as she glanced over her shoulder. “I really can't linger, but it is good to see you. I hope you've been taking care of yourself through everything.”

“Through everything?”

Again, Dolley shrugged. “All the hours you've been working. I imagine it doesn't allow much time for you to rest.”

“Right, yeah, no, for sure.” Y/N shook her head quickly, offering a light laugh. “For sure. I've been fine.”

“Right.” Her smile was tight. “I do hope I'll see you around.”

Y/N was doing her best not to read into Dolley's words, but they occasionally floated to the forefront of her mind on her commute to work and in the shower. She couldn't help but dwell on the hesitant way she asked how she'd been as she sat at her computer redrafting articles. She couldn't gauge the sincerity in her voice when she said she'd hoped to see her around.

She found Lafayette no more than a week later, and it appeared he'd already been cornered by none other than Ben Arnold. She wasn't sure when the two had been acquainted, but Lafayette was looking rather weary as Ben grew ever-closer to him with his notepad.

While she was trying to decide whether to approach the pair, Ben noticed her over Lafayette's shoulder.

“Y/N!” He flagged her down with a hand, and Lafayette turned sharply in the direction he was facing. Both she and he were tense as she approached. “You know Lafayette, don't you? I can't place it, but I'm sure I've seen you both talking together before.”

“Right. Yeah, we know each other.” Her smile was tight, but Ben didn't seem to pick up on it. “What's going on over here?”

“We're talking about Adams’ speech from the other day. I wanna root for the guy, but God, he sure fumbled that.” He shook his head in disdain. “He has me starting to think he might just be too old to be the candidate.”

“Yeah, well. No candidate is perfect.”

“You're one to talk, with the way you've been tearing into Jefferson. You're doing great work, though, don't get me wrong. And don't let me dissuade you.” When Ben nudged her playfully, she pursed her lips.

“Thanks.”

“How's your day going, though? Have you gotten any content out of this rally?” The concern in his brow was aimless, and when Y/N shrugged, he frowned. He followed her gaze as she snuck glances at Lafayette.

“It's been fine. I, um, I should get going, though. It looks like you two were in the middle of an interview, and I really don't want to take your time. I have some work to get done this afternoon.”

“Will your article finally be hitting the front pages?” Y/N inhaled sharply when Lafayette spoke, and his polite tone was in contrast with his stern, knit brow.

“Not today.” She spoke softly, and when she looked him in the eye, she was almost afraid to look away. “There have been some complications.”

“Of what sort?”

“That’s somewhat confidential, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sure it is.” He hesitated. She didn’t move. “Is everything alright?”

“Is everything alright?” she repeated incredulously, and he shrugged.

“I am only wondering.”

“I’m fine.” She answered the question he didn’t ask.

“Glad to hear it.” Ben nudged her with a lopsided smile, and the one she put on to match was stiff. “Looking forward to your article, then.”

She and Lafayette shared a look.

————

PER NOBODY’S WISHES, she thought dryly as she read her email, they’d be seeing her again soon. Thomas was holding a speaking event at the university she'd attended, and it was being moderated by a professor she'd had as an undergrad. Although Thomas’ campaign may have blacklisted her, her persistent participation in journalism seminars appeared to be paying off well into her career. There was, of course, a media junket in the hours that preceded the speech, and she was, of course, always welcome back at her alma mater. When she was younger, people would tell her time and time again that her GPA barely mattered if she wasn’t looking to attend graduate school, but there it was, pulling strings she figured had long since frayed.

She arrived early. She’d barely slept the night before, so she figured it wasn’t ultimately worth waiting the extra hours before leaving the house, and she showered before the sun was even up. She stopped by her old professor’s office to thank him along with an extra cold brew and her thoughts on his recent book. She lingered in the bookstore afterwards, eyeing the merchandise they’d updated since she attended. She walked by her old dorm building. She made uneasy eye contact with the security guards placed every five feet.

Vans with tinted windows went in and out of gated driveways, and she wondered which of them had reason to appear so incognito. Although she hadn’t the slightest clue, she didn’t allow her stare to linger on any of them for too long.

She checked in for her time slot four hours early.

—-------

THOMAS HAD MIXED feelings about university speaking engagements. Young people barely voted, and many of them had obviously come only to network regardless, trailing behind him with questions about his campaign staff and his cabinet. Nevertheless, the optics of caring about the next generation were helpful if not essential, so there he was in a van being driven through closed-off streets toward a university convention center.

He shook hands and learned names he had little intention of remembering for multiple hours before the event even started, and he was led by his security detail down a long hallway for the press junket that he should have anticipated.

He asked for a cup of coffee before they started, chatting idly with one of his bodyguards in the hallway outside, and then he asked for another. He arrived at the first interview thirty-eight minutes late.

He cut each interview short. They were with outlets he’d spoken to time and time again: CNN, Fox, the Associated Press, the Guardian. The questions they asked were routine.

Eight interviews took him less than an hour, ultimately, but he was informed that he’d be giving sixteen that day (it would’ve been fifteen, but the university newspaper snuck in a reservation).

After each, he took a breath, fixed his tie, and opened the next door to meet the interviewer he’d be speaking to next.

Nine was from NBC.

Ten was the Times — he shuddered when he saw Ben Arnold, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen his face before.

Eleven was the LA Times.

Twelve was NPR.

He walked out on autopilot toward the next room after shaking his interviewer’s hand and wishing her well. His eyes were glazed over as he opened the door to room thirteen.

He fixed his shirt cuffs as he walked in. “Mornin’, how’s your day—?” He stopped short when she lifted her head, eyes as wide as his. “Who the hell let you in?”

“Please, just give me five minutes.”

He looked over his shoulder to his security personnel. “Gimme the room.”

“Sir, we’re under instructions not to leave your side.”

“Instructions from who? You work for me.”

“I understand that, but our manager—”

“Wait outside. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure, Secretary Jefferson?”

He nodded before turning back toward Y/N. “I only need five minutes, hm?”

“Yes. Please.” He sat across from her as the security detail filed out into the hallway, and her hand was shaking atop her notebook when he met her eyes.

“What part of ‘stay away from me’ was unclear?” he spat.

“It’s my job; I couldn’t stop trying to get to your events.”

“And what did you think would happen when you did?” She was silent. “How the hell did you get in, anyway? My staff knows that you—”

“I went here. For college. I used to work for the professor interviewing you later, and he reached out to me, not the other way around.”

“Management and I are gonna be havin’ a serious talk about his role in organizing this event, then.”

“Hey, come on, it’s not his fault,” she protested. “You can’t ruin his credibility just for this, it’s not—”

“It’s not what?” he snapped. “It’s not fair? It’s not right? All of a sudden, you’re worried about protecting somebody’s reputation?”

“Come on, you know what I’m saying. He did nothing wrong.”

“And I did then?” He raised his eyebrows, folding his arms. She sighed, shoulders dropping. “‘S that what you’re saying? Is that all you meant? He doesn’t deserve that, but I do?”

“No, of course you don’t. Please stop making this something it isn’t.”

“What is it then? Hm? If it’s not you playing favorites? You’re allowed to drag my name in the streets, but I can’t do it to somebody you care about?”

“Thomas, I do care about you; just listen to me.”

“What is there left to say?” His tone was sharp, and he didn’t go on, just watching her expectantly. The only sound was the hum of the AV equipment switched on in the corner. She hadn’t set any of it up.

“I just want you to understand that this is my job.” She spoke softly. “I didn’t know this was what I was signing up for, but I did, and it’s too late for me to back out.”

“You didn’t do this by accident. I don’t care what your assignment was; you sat down and spent hours writing down the worst things you could find about me.”

“I had to. My editor—”

“You had to? There was no other way out?”

“Yeah, maybe unemployment,” she bit back. “I need my job, Thomas. I have to work.”

“You’re a big name in media now. Don’t act like you have no sway.” He looked her up and down. “You made your choice. Now live with it.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” she urged. “Someone was going to come out with this eventually. If I didn’t write it, I would’ve been scooped.”

“You always have a choice.” When he stood, he was looking down his nose at her. “Hope it was worth spending your day here just to make mine worse. I’ll be more careful about the press at my events goin’ forward.”

He started toward the door, and her hurried footsteps behind him didn’t give him pause.

“Wait, please, I—” Her fingers were soft on his forearm, and he jerked it away, turning to face her.

“Don’t you dare touch me. You hear me?” His tone was harsh, and she pulled her hand back, balling her fingers lamely in front of her. “I don’t know where you find the goddamn nerve.”

When he left, he slammed the door behind him.

——————

SHE WAS DREADING the office on Monday. The speaking event had been local, so she couldn’t skate by on travel complications for another day working remotely. She slipped into the office early so her editor wouldn’t see her come in, and when eleven AM came and went undisturbed, she found herself ticking off the minutes before she could slink away while Ashley was out on lunch.

At 11:38 AM, there was a knock at her office door.

“Coming.” Her voice was soft.

She opened the door. The usual culprit.

“Ashley,” she said, honey-sweet, “Morning. Happy Monday.”

“Good morning, Y/N.” Her smile was tight. “What do you suppose there is to be happy about today?”

“Well, the weather is beautiful, my apartment’s heating was fixed, my friends are—”

“That was rhetorical.” Ashley breezed past her into her office, and Y/N sighed. “Where the hell is my article? I know you went to the Georgetown event last weekend, and you have yet to even send me notes from it.”

“He wouldn’t speak to me.” She turned, closing the door behind her.

“And why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know, because all my writing treats him terribly?” Y/N asked. “This is your own fault. Being upset with me for not being able to get his ear when you told me to drag his name through the mud is insane.”

“I don’t need a new interview with him. I need you to finish the draft you sent me weeks ago. If you don’t, I’m giving it to another staff writer to finish.”

“You’re bluffing. It’s my intellectual property; you don’t own that article until it’s published,” Y/N said. “If you could assign it to someone else, you would’ve by now.”

“And if someone had sent me your interview tape, I could’ve had it in the paper immediately,” Ashley seethed. “Why are you holding out on me, L/N? You got this assignment because your supervisors before me believed in you. This doesn’t just reflect on you; it reflects on them now, too.”

“Yeah, and they weren’t breathing down my neck trying to push their own agendas on my writing.”

“What did you just say to me?”

Y/N paused, sucking her teeth. Ashley raised her eyebrows.

“I think Adams lied,” Y/N finally said.

“And why do you think that?”

“He has an agenda. No one will even corroborate his story.”

“He worked with Jefferson, and the facts line up.”

“How would you know if the story lines up?” Y/N asked incredulously. “You weren’t on Washington’s staff with them.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care if you don’t have a secondary source, and I don’t care if you don’t believe him,” Ashley insisted, “because you haven’t published in weeks, and this is front-page news. You never sit on a story like this.”

“Don’t you care about our integrity? This affects our reputation as a paper, too.”

“If it turns out to be false, we’ll print a retraction.”

“I don’t want my name attached to a slanderous article,” Y/N said. “We could get sued. I could get sued.”

“We have the best lawyers in the game, L/N. What you need to do is grow a pair.”

“Jesus Christ, don’t talk to me like that.” Y/N’s nose was crinkled as she eyed Ashley. “However good you think our lawyers are, you underestimate Jefferson’s.”

“I’ve been in journalism a long time. I know what we can get away with.”

“What if I don’t want to just be ‘getting away with’ things?” Y/N asked. “I came here to report the truth.”

“From what we know, this is the truth.”

“But we don’t know that.” Y/N’s firm gaze met Ashley’s narrowed eyes. “I’m not finishing the article.”

“You work for me.”

“If you press this, I’ll walk away,” Y/N warned. “You need me here this late in the game.”

“You need me a whole lot more,” Ashley said. “If you don’t get me my finished article by Friday, you’re fired.”

“Then I quit.”

Ashley’s narrowed eyes softened. “You don’t mean that.”

“I’ll pack my office. Effective immediately.” Y/N’s expression was unchanging. Ashley drew back, folding her arms.

“Fine. You have thirty minutes. After that, security will see you out.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

—————

SHE HADN’T PLANNED for that. When she went home, she was all but convinced it had been a fever dream. Was she sick? She took her temperature—98.5° F. She checked her email. It had already been disabled. Her Google Drive was gone, which meant her draft was gone, which meant her career was over.

She hadn’t given two weeks notice, and she had burned a bridge. Ashley wouldn’t be listed as a reference on her future job applications. She hadn’t published in weeks, and she had lost all her contacts on the Jefferson campaign. Who would hire her?

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot despite her nine hours of sleep. She needed to go to sleep.

Laying down didn’t help. Maybe Tums would do something, but the sinking feeling in her stomach wasn’t nausea. She figured an antacid couldn’t hurt. Maybe she was stopped up. Maybe she just needed a laxative. Maybe she needed antipsychotics. Had she gone mad?

She didn’t check her phone for three hours. She could only stare at the ceiling. She had no dental insurance, so she would need to postpone her appointment. She had no health insurance, either, so she was rather lucky that flu season was over. Her car repairs would have to wait, but the Metro reached her part of town. She didn’t have to travel for work anymore, anyway.

She had opted in on a financial nightmare. It wasn’t until later that afternoon that she even remembered why.

It was with trembling fingers that she called Lafayette. He didn’t answer, and she couldn’t blame him. She sent him a text. Quit my job. Not sure what to do. Call me back.

She couldn’t call Alex, and she couldn’t call Angelica, and she didn’t have Dolley’s number. None of her closest friends would understand the decision she’d made.

She went downstairs, and Mira was in the kitchen idly doing the dishes. The lunch rush had passed, and the dinner one hadn’t started.

“Hey, Mira,” she said softly. “Do you have a minute?”

“Dishes have to get done, mija, are you going to help me?” Her tone was all business, and it almost made Y/N smile. She had her own concerns.

“Yeah, I can. Lemme load the dishes.” And so as Mira scraped and rinsed each plate, Y/N put them one by one into the dishwasher. She fell into a rhythm so passively that it caught her off guard when Mira spoke.

“You wanted to talk about something with me?” she asked, and Y/N went still.

“Yeah,” she said, “I did.”

“I am listening.”

“I quit my other job.”

Mira turned the water off. Her brows were knit when she faced Y/N. “You quit?”

“I did.”

“You worked hard for that promotion. What happened? You were famous.”

“My editor wanted me to publish some things I didn’t quite believe in,” Y/N said quietly, and Mira nodded, turning back to the sink. She turned the water on and reached for another glass.

“Ya veo. About Thomas?”

Y/N paused. “What makes you say that?”

Mira only shot her a sidelong glance, raising one skeptical eyebrow. Y/N shrugged, and Mira turned back to the sink, shaking her head. “What did they want you to say about him?”

“I…” It occurred to her that Mira hadn’t answered her question. “Things I don’t want to repeat. I don’t want to spread rumors.”

“Are they true?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then I will not repeat what you tell me,” Mira said. “Tell me.”

“There are claims he was an alcoholic,” Y/N said, and Mira pursed her lips, nodding.

“Is that just a rumor?”

“Only one person has claimed it. They say it was years ago.”

“He does not seem to me to be an alcoholic.”

“Me neither,” Y/N said. “If it’s true, he’s clearly recovered. With how much energy he has, I’d sooner believe that he does cocaine.”

Mira laughed softly at that. “He is always moving, no?”

“You’re telling me.”

Mira turned off the water as she handed Y/N the final dish. “So when did you quit?”

“This morning.”

Her eyebrows jumped. “Today?”

Y/N nodded. “I didn’t even give any notice. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were being brave,” Mira replied. “You did what you believed.”

“And now I’m paying the price.”

“What price?” Mira asked. “You left a job that you hated. You… what is it… seguiste a tu corazón.”

“Followed my heart?” Y/N repeated, and Mira nodded.

“Thomas means something to you,” —Y/N opened her mouth to protest, and Mira only raised a hand to stop her— “He is in your life, at least. He is your friend. You did what he needed.”

“I know. God, I hope so. I was just trying to do the right thing, and now I feel like I’ve blown up my life.”

“What is blown up? You have a roof over your head. You have food on your table. Also you have this job.”

“It’s not enough for me to be able to pay you rent money,” Y/N admitted. “Not with my student loan payments. I understand if I can’t stay, but when I find a new job, I can get you all the money later, and if you want interest, it’s—”

“It is not my worry,” Mira said. “We have enough money. We do not need yours. We will not remove you from your home.”

“Thank you, but I’ll pay you when I have the money. I’m sorry.”

“Do not be sorry. Be proud that you have done what you believe.” Mira took Y/N’s damp hand in her own, dishwater running down in beads from her elbow. “I am proud of you. It is allowed to feel that for yourself, too.”

—————

SHE THEN CALLED Thomas. He didn’t pick up, and she wasn’t expecting him to. He hadn’t read any of her texts in weeks, so she didn’t bother sending them anymore, but they were still marked as delivered. Lafayette didn’t call her back, but he texted— I am happy for you.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Can you call?

He texted back immediately. Later. I am working.

Are we okay? It took her a long moment of staring to press “send.”

We will need to have a longer conversation, he sent. Her stomach turned. Then— But yes.

She called Thomas again.

That was her routine for the rest of the evening. She applied for a job at CNN, she called Thomas. She made herself dinner, she called Thomas. She took out the trash, she called Thomas. She applied for five more jobs, she called Thomas. She took a break to read through the texts she’d sent him, and she called Thomas.

She texted Lafayette again. Can you tell Thomas to call me?

I can try, was his reply. Should I tell him you quit?

I’d like to tell him myself, she sent.

Then it will be difficult.

By eight PM, he had 47 missed calls from her. It was more than she’d tried in the weeks since he had cut her off, but she supposed he would have chalked it up to the fight they’d had over the weekend. Every time the phone went to voicemail, she heard his disgusted voice ringing in her ears— I don’t know where you find the nerve.

Frankly, she wasn’t sure, either.

At 9:47, she had just finished another job application, and it was time to call Thomas again. She was sitting on her couch, and she put the phone on speaker beside her as she reached for her glass of wine. She closed tabs on her laptop as she listened to the first four rings, and she pulled up another application as the fifth went by.

The sixth ring never came, and the phone didn’t go to voicemail. There was faint static coming from her phone’s speaker. She froze.

Tentatively, she spoke. “Thomas?”

A beat passed. Finally, “I only picked up as a favor to Lafayette. You can tell him I did my piece.”

“Wait, no, don’t hang up,” she said frantically. “Please. Are you still there?”

“I’m done wastin’ time here. I’ve given you a whole lotta chances. Goodnight.”

“I quit my job.” Her words were rushed. Silence followed, but no dial tone.

“You what?”

“I quit my job,” she repeated. “The article’s scrapped.”

“Y’know, it’s not so easy to trust right now that you’re tellin’ me the whole truth.”

“I know,” Y/N said softly, putting down her wine glass. She picked up the phone and took it off of speaker. “But that's it.”

“You’re not goin’ back?”

“Never.”

“And that article’s never gonna see the light?”

“It would be illegal for them to publish without me on staff. They don’t even have the interview tape.”

There was a long pause. “Why’d you do it?”

“Are you serious?” she asked, huffing out a disbelieving laugh.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“Because I couldn’t publish that article. I’m sorry I ever even wrote it. My editor has been hounding me for weeks to get it finished so that they could publish, and I delayed it and delayed it, but it came down to publishing or leaving. So I finally left.”

“‘Cause I yelled at you in a conference room at your old college?”

“Because you were right when you did,” she said. “No one who cared about you would publish that article.”

“What about all those bills you have to pay?” The question was steeped in disdain.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted, and her voice was shaky when she explained, “I’m applying for jobs, but I’ll take on more hours at the diner, and I can delay some of my payments. And Mira and Orlando are my landlords, so they won’t evict me, so I won’t need to couch surf. I’ll take on a little bit of debt. I’ll figure it out.”

He hesitated a moment. “Sorry for askin’. You don’t owe me all that information.”

“Right now I owe you any explanation you want.”

He sighed. “Y/N.”

“I’m serious. I’m so sorry, Thomas. This whole ordeal is finally over. You never have to think about this again.”

“Well, if somebody’s giving interviews about it, I’m sure I’m gonna have to worry about it soon enough.”

“...Right.”

“But that’s not your fault. I shouldn’t put that on you. ‘M sorry.”

“You don’t owe me any apologies,” she said softly. “I’m glad you picked up.”

“Yeah.” A beat. “I am too.”

Nearly a minute passed and neither of them spoke. Neither seemed to have the words to offer, but he didn’t hang up, and she didn’t want to.

Finally, “Can I come over?”

He hesitated. “I’m at James’ right now.”

“Oh.” Her voice went quiet. “Right. Of course. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry, I’ll let you—”

“I’ll be home in an hour,” he cut her off, and her eyebrows shot up. “Think you can wait that long?”

She checked the time. It was past ten. “I suppose I don’t have anywhere to be in the morning.”

He didn’t laugh. “I’ll text you when I’m home.”

—-

IT WAS MORE than an hour later when he texted her. In fact, it had been eighty-one minutes. She'd begun to abandon her hopes when he sent— Headed home. Come by whenever.

She didn't love being on the Metro at that hour. She couldn't call an Uber. She brought nothing but her phone, wallet, and keys.

It was nearing midnight when she arrived, and ten minutes passed between when she buzzed in and when she knocked on his door. Most of them were spent standing outside working up the courage to do so.

When she finally did, he opened the door immediately.

“Hey,” he said softly, looking her up and down.

“Were you waiting by the door?”

He frowned. “It's the middle of the night, and I buzzed you in twenty minutes ago. What else would I be doing?”

She chose not to correct him on the time. “Right, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m sure.”

She didn't respond at first, shifting her weight between her feet. “Can I come in?”

He sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Lemme take your jacket.”

“Thanks.” The brush of his fingers against hers when he took it sent chills down her arm. She followed him inside.

“Would it be too on the nose to offer you a drink?” he asked. “I think we could both use one right about now.”

“It'd be more than welcome,” she agreed weakly, and he nodded, walking toward the kitchen. She didn't follow him right away, and he glanced back at her.

“Well, c'mon in, act like you've been here before. You know where the glasses are.”

“Right. Sorry.” She slipped off her shoes before continuing toward his cabinets. “What are we drinking?”

“Wine?”

“What kind?”

“Zinfandel.”

“Right.” She handed him two wine glasses as he took a bottle from his shelf and pulled the cork.

“Thanks,” he said. She nodded.

A moment passed in silence as he poured two glasses, and he turned his head to look at her as he put the cork back on the bottle. “Take your pick.”

“Right. Thanks.” She took the glass closest to her.

“Cheers?” he said as he picked up his glass, tilting it toward her. Her smile was tight as she clinked her glass against his. He sighed. “Relax a little. You wouldn't be here if I didn't wanna see you. You're not on trial.”

“I know,” she agreed softly, “but I did fuck up. You don't have to be this nice to me right now.”

“I know.” He took a sip of his wine. “That's what makes me such a good person.”

She rolled her eyes, and his small smile was self-satisfied. “My savior.”

“Hey, I don't wanna hear any snark from you in these circumstances,” he warned, and she shrugged.

“Then you shouldn't have invited me over.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The way I remember it, you invited yourself.”

“How rude of me.”

“I oughta kick you out just for that.” She cast him a sidelong glance as she took a sip, and amusement danced in his smiling eyes. “You wanna come sit down?”

“I… yeah. I'd love to.” They both migrated to the living room, and when she took a seat on one end of the couch, he sat beside her without hesitation. “I still feel like I owe you an apology.”

“You've apologized. Not much more you can say about that.” His tone was dismissive.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, sweetheart.” He took a heavy sip of his wine, and she frowned. “What I do want, though, is an explanation.”

“I… don't think I have much of an explanation to offer. No excuses I haven't already given you.”

“I don’t want an excuse. Why’d you do it?” he asked. “When did this start, who gave the interview? How long have you been sitting on it?”

“I can't tell you who.” Her response came quickly, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “I'm sorry, I know that's unsatisfying, but it's just not something I'm willing to break. Their anonymity, I mean.”

He hesitated a moment. “Y’know it's not your job anymore, right?”

“Yes, I'm aware.” Her voice had an edge. “But… this is about my reputation as a journalist. This is an integrity thing.”

“Whoever you're interviewing doesn't seem to have a whole lotta integrity.”

“That isn't my problem.”

“You know this affects me, yeah? I'm not asking this outta spite; I need to know who's claimin’ this.”

“I can't be the one to tell you.” Y/N pursed her lips. “I'm sorry for that. Honestly. But I can't.”

Thomas took a heavy breath. “You're not makin’ it real easy to forgive you, y'know.”

“I'm sorry,” she said quietly. Her ears rang in the silence that followed.

“Fine,” he finally said. “When did you write the article, then?”

She swallowed. “Shit… I… Almost three months ago? Maybe less?”

“Three months?” he repeated.

“I told you my editor was at the end of her rope with me delaying this. It wasn't for no reason.”

“So every time I've seen you for three months you've been sittin’ on this.”

“I mean… yeah.” She shrugged. He was watching her incredulously.

“That's all you've gotta say about it? Yeah?” Her nose crinkled at his pitchy impression of her voice. “Every time I've seen you you've just been pretending you weren't gonna destroy my reputation?”

She sighed. “It's not like that. I mean, it is, but c'mon. It's not like I've been putting on such a promising act as your fun hookup. All we've done for the past three months is fight.”

“What about that night at the diner?” he asked. “We did a whole lot other than fightin'.”

“Do you mean your rally?” she asked, and he nodded. “Thomas, I hadn't written it then. I didn't even have my source yet. I didn't know about any of this. I… it was the last time I woke up here that was the day I wrote it.”

“Don't sound so self-righteous about my question, then; you were still stayin’ over here when you were writing it.”

“I was not,” she defended. “I haven't even been here since I wrote it. After that morning, I barely saw you for weeks.”

“And apparently I shoulda kept it that way.”

“Do you want my side of the story or not?” Y/N asked weakly. “I know you're upset, but you asked me to explain. I'm just trying to fill in the blanks.”

His jaw ticked, and he sat back against the couch. “Yeah. ‘M sorry. Go on.”

“Well, the article was the reason I didn't try to see you in those weeks. At least not for anything more than a talk. I think some part of me knew from the jump that it was wrong.”

“Then why'd you do it?” he asked. She sighed.

“My career. My money. I really needed that job, and I worked so hard for it, and at first I thought I might be able to discard the article without it seeing the light, but my editor doubled down. It was obvious pretty early on that my job depended on it. I was hoping I would be valuable enough that they wouldn't fire me over it, but once it was drafted, there was no way to stop it and stay at the Post.”

Her voice shook, and she reached over to put her wine glass on his coffee table. She rested her forehead in her hands.

“I know I fucked up, but even now, some part of me feels like I made the wrong choice. What now? What's next for me? Who's even going to hire me after I quit the Post with no notice? What about my loans?”

She jumped at the feeling of his hand on her shoulder, and when she looked up at him, he looked as bewildered at her reaction as she felt.

“‘M sorry. Didn't mean to… scare you, it's not… Shit. Whatever. I'm sorry.” His fingers were stiff as he rubbed her upper back, and it drew a soft laugh from her.

“God, when did we get so awkward? It's okay, it's not your fault.” She took his hand from her shoulder, lacing her fingers into his.

“‘Course. Right. But y'know… if I'd never gone for you, you wouldn't be in this type of spot. I shoulda just left you alone from the jump.”

“That would've made both of our lives a hell of a lot easier,” Y/N agreed, and his smile was reluctant. “Too late, though. If I didn't care about you being in my life, I wouldn't have just thrown away my career for you.”

“Y’know, the campaign could always use more speech writers.”

“Not helpful.”

“I know. Sorry, sugar.” He squeezed her hand. “But your career's not down the drain. You're real smart, and you're real talented. Somebody else is gonna wanna hire you.”

“Maybe, but the industry is so tight. If word travels that I left the Post with no notice, I'll seem unreliable. Nobody wants that.”

“Somebody’ll hire you. I promise, alright?” His words held great conviction, and she could only sigh.

“Thanks, Thomas.”

He offered an encouraging smile. “‘Course.” He paused for a moment— “Now, I don't wanna reopen old wounds or anything, but I gotta ask.” She creased her brow. “Was the article the only reason you were avoidin’ me? Changin’ all your shifts at the diner, boltin’ for the door when I saw you at Lafayette's… was that all this?”

“I… I don't know.”

“Right. ‘Course, ‘m sorry for askin’. I shouldn't have brought that back up; it isn't even—”

“No, no, listen to me.” Her voice held traces of frustration. “I like you, you know I do, as if me quitting my job isn't evidence enough, but I just couldn't,” —her words were defeated— “let myself get attached to you. There's no good ending to this. The good ending was sex until the election and then neatly going our separate ways. And I fucked that up a couple different times.”

“So you didn't?” he asked. She frowned.

“Are you serious? Of course I got attached. You're all swagger and confidence, and suddenly the Republican presidential frontrunner wanted me, of all people. It all felt like a dream. It felt like too much of a dream. There's no room for dreaming in my future, only planning.”

“So you just saw it as temporary.”

She nodded. “I did. I fucked up by getting to know you, though, and you fucked up by being so much kinder and more complex than I took you to be. I didn't account for there being anything under the surface.”

He smiled softly. “Sorry, sweetheart. I'll try not to let it happen again.”

“You're too considerate.” She pulled her legs up onto the couch, sitting with them slanted at her side. “All of that to say, no, it wasn't just the article, but you did nothing wrong.”

“This is night ‘n day from you accusin’ me of trying to control you a couple weeks ago,” he pointed out, and she huffed.

“Hey, I was trying to keep us from having to figure all this out. It would've been easier if you'd given me a good reason to lose your number.”

“I'm glad I didn't.”

“I am too,” she agreed. She picked up her glass of wine, and she took a slow sip, choosing her words. “So, are we, like, good?”

He laughed. “Mhm, we're, like, good.” Y/N rolled her eyes at his impression of her voice, but when he squeezed her knee, her stomach turned. “C'mon, lighten up.”

“I don't think this is all that funny,” she protested, and he sighed.

“All is forgiven, alright? Relax. We'll laugh about this soon enough.”

“I'm not ready to laugh at it yet.”

“You'll get there.” His hand was creeping up her thigh, rubbing circles into her skin, and she frowned before covering it with hers.

“What exactly do you think you're doing here?”

He smiled as his hand tightened around her leg, fingertips pressing into the skin, and she gasped when he pulled her toward him. “Clearin’ the air.”

“You're so corny.”

“‘N I missed you. Gimme this.” He took her glass of wine out of her hand, placing both his and hers on his coffee table.

“I was drinking that.”

“‘N now you aren't. Y'know, alcohol really isn't good for you. Take it from somebody who knows.” Her eyes were wide as he pulled her legs over his lap, his hand settling on her lower back when her thighs were draped over his.

“You're invading my space, Jefferson.”

“You gonna write an article about it?” He held her face by the chin, then only inches from his. The mocking pout he offered made her roll her eyes. “Sick of seein’ that frown.”

He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, and when she smiled at the gentle action, he turned her head to kiss her on the mouth. “There's that smile,” he said softly before kissing her again. “All I've been getting these days was your little furrowed brow,” —he swiped his thumb over the bridge of her nose— “always so angry with me. Always pouting.”

“It was for good reason.”

He snorted. “Uh huh. ‘Cause I've just been such a nuisance.”

“You've been the cause of all my stress for months now.”

“Then lemme relieve some of it.” His hand drew back to the nape of her neck, pulling her closer as he kissed across her chin and down her jaw. He hooked his other hand under her thigh. “Come here.”

She squealed when he pulled her all the way onto his lap, and she shifted to face him, tilting her head back as his lips traveled down her neck. She wrapped her arms around his neck, unable to stop the little whimpers that escaped her lips as he sucked on her skin, and she squealed when he suddenly bit down hard on the skin above her collarbone.

“Thomas,” she whined as a hand flew to his hair, and she whimpered as he sucked the soft skin into his mouth, pulling her in close by the waist. The skin smarted as he pulled away, his breath heavy. “That hurt.”

“D'you mind?” He raised his eyebrows, expression flat, and she swallowed.

“No.” Her voice was small.

“Good.” His mouth returned to the skin of her chest, kissing and biting her upper breasts. He released her waist to undo the top buttons of her blouse, brow furrowed as he did so, and after a moment, he huffed and grabbed the bottom hem of her shirt. “Pick your arms up.”

“What?”

“Come on,” he said, hands slipping under the fabric around her waist, riding it up to the band of her bra. She put her arms above her head, and he immediately pulled her shirt off, discarding it absently onto the floor. He grabbed her by the waist and tossed her on her back onto the couch beside him, and she yelped when her bare back hit the cool leather, arching away from it.

When he climbed on top of her, he slipped a hand under her back to undo her bra clasp, sliding it down her obliging arms. She inhaled sharply when the cool air hit her sensitive nipples, watching him in anticipation.

“Touch yourself,” he said softly, and she raised her eyebrows.

“What?”

“C'mon, play with your tits for me. Wanna see you make yourself feel good.”

“I…” Any protest in her voice died when his lips returned to her skin, kissing down her stomach, shifting down the couch. He settled between her legs, nipping the skin above her hip lightly. He met her eyes with an expectant gaze.

She tilted her head back, arching up against her hand as she reached for her breast, pinching her nipple. Her breathing was heavy; she reached for the couch cushion behind her head with her other hand, gripping it tightly.

“Fuck.” The sound escaped her lips as a whisper as she rolled her nipple between her fingers, and her hips twitched involuntarily. Thomas’ hands ran up her bare thighs under her skirt.

“Look at me,” he demanded, and she did so with a deep breath, squeezing her breast in her hand. His heavy gaze made her squirm. “Good girl.”

The words made her groan as she took her other breast in her hand, circling the nipple with her fingertips as it hardened. Although she was watching Thomas, his eyes were fixed on her chest, and she pushed her tits together, rolling her hips toward him.

“Please touch me,” she breathed, and he smiled, pushing her skirt up to her waist.

“Do you deserve it?” He ran a finger lightly over the outside of her panties, and it brushed over her clothed clit, making her whine. She pinched both nipples, pulling her tits up her chest.

“Please. I'll behave. I'll be good for you.” She arched harder toward him. He watched with hungry eyes as she squeezed her breasts.

“Finally got tired of making trouble?” He didn't wait for an answer before pulling her panties down her legs, leaving them dangling off one of her ankles as he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her toward him. She inhaled sharply.

“So pretty,” he commented, running a finger up her slit. He smiled at the wetness that collected on his fingertip. “And so well behaved. This all for me, sweetheart?”

She moaned when he circled her clit with his thumb, and she nodded, desperately grabbing at the couch. He landed a sharp slap to her thigh, and she yelped.

“Did I say you could move your hands?” he asked, and she frowned, bringing them back to her hard nipples. “Keep ‘em there.”

She swallowed hard when he returned to her sensitive clit, rubbing it in light strokes. Her breathing was heavy, and any movement from her hands was absentminded as her chest heaved. His fingers dipped down, teasing her entrance, and when his tongue flicked her clit, she stiffened, arching involuntarily as she rolled her hips toward him. When his lips wrapped gently around her clit, his teeth scraped it, and her legs jerked. She whined.

“Fuck, please, Thomas.”

“Be patient.” His hands moved to her hips, arms hooked under her thighs to hold her legs open, and he sucked hard on her throbbing clit. She moaned, and he didn’t stop her when one of her hands flew down to the back of his head, knotting her fingers in his hair.

“Oh, god,” she groaned, and she could feel his smile grow against her skin as his tongue traced patterns on her clit. “Fuck, you’re good at that.”

“Mhm.” Her legs shook under the vibrations of his voice on his tongue.

Her eyes fell shut as her body tensed and twitched, and he didn’t let up, pushing her hips down into the couch as he worked her up. She whimpered when he released her thigh to slip a finger into her ignored pussy, curling it gently inside her.

“I need more.” Her voice was needy when she eventually spoke, her orgasm starting to build inside her. Everything was just shy of enough—his lips were too gentle, his fingers too slow, and all it did was frustrate her. Thomas didn’t respond. She huffed, but she could only stay quiet another moment. “Please?”

He pursed his lips as he lifted his head to look up at her. “You think you need more?”

“Yes, I do,” she whined. “I can’t cum like this.”

“What d’you need?”

“Just… more, please,” she said desperately. “Harder, or faster, or… something. Just… more.”

“Oh yeah?” He added another finger to her dripping pussy, and she gasped. His fingers pumped quickly in and out of her. “You need more?”

“Yeah, yeah, just like that. Oh, god.” She moaned, dropping her head back onto the couch, and his lips returned to her clit. She squealed. “That’s so good. Just like that.”

He sucked her clit hard into his mouth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue, and her hips jerked uncontrollably against him, chasing her orgasm. Her eyes rolled back when he curled his fingers inside her. “Fuck, Thomas, I’m close.”

“Yeah?” he murmured against her, and he lifted his head. “You gonna cum for me? You almost there?”

“Yeah,” she moaned, and his tongue returned to her clit. Her legs were shaking in his grasp, and one of her hands gripped his hair while the other sank into the couch cushions, scrambling to ground her. “I’m so close, fuck, don’t stop, I’m gonna—”

She was cut off abruptly by her own loud whine as he pulled back from her entirely, and she could feel her building orgasm dissipate. “No, no, no, please, I need—”

“Who said any of this was about you, hm?” He raised an eyebrow as he lifted his head between her legs, and her hold on his hair loosened. Her deep-seated pout didn’t stop him. “Do you think you deserve to cum right now? After everything you did?”

“You said we were all good,” she protested, and he hummed in agreement.

“‘N I feel great right now. Don’t think I see the issue.” She groaned when he sat up, running his hands up her thighs. “Should be real grateful I’m not still upset with you. I could be doin’ a whole lot worse than this right now.”

“What, you want me to thank you?” she said dryly, propping herself on her hands as she sat up. Thomas pulled her closer by the thighs as he raised his eyebrows. “...Do you?”

“I mean, some manners would go a long way. I’ve been awful generous toward you, sweetheart.”

“I’ve said please.”

“‘N I don’t owe you anything for that,” he said, looking her in the eye as his thumb circled her clit. “You don’t have any kinda control over me. You don’t own me.”

If it weren’t for the punch in his tone, she wouldn’t have realized he was throwing her own words back at her, and she exhaled heavily. “C’mon, play nice.”

“I’ve been plenty nice to you.” His hands ghosted down her legs to her calves, and she sighed. “If anybody has reason to be upset, I’m pretty damn sure it’s me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. He looked her over for a moment, and he swung his legs over the side of the couch to stand, making her furrow her brow. When he reached his feet, she followed suit, “Hey, wait don’t—” She squealed when he leaned down suddenly to throw her over his shoulder, holding her by her legs.

“It’s alright sugar, I know you’re sorry. Think it’s my job to make you sorry, though.”

She groaned. “Put me down, let’s just talk about this first.”

“Don’t think so.” She squeaked when he pinched the back of her bare thigh, reaching around to swat his hand away. Her eyes widened as she recognized the door to his room retreating behind them as he walked through his apartment, and she yelped when he threw her down onto his mattress. “We’ve talked plenty, haven’t we?”

He didn’t waste any time before loosening his tie, and when she scrambled backwards on the mattress, he grabbed her by the ankle to pull her toward him. “Where the hell d’you think you’re going?”

“I don’t want this to be how we resolve this; we should—”

“D’you know your safeword?”

“...Red.”

“Then shut the hell up.”

Her chest heaved as she watched him undo the buttons on his shirt, but her gaze fell to the growing bulge in his crotch all the while. He seemed to pay her little mind, barely sparing her a glance as he pushed his shirt down his shoulders. His undershirt was tight, and when he joined her on the mattress, climbing atop her, her hands drifted to its lower hem, pulling it out of the waist of his pants.

“You should take this off,” she said softly, and he kissed her bare shoulder.

“Don't think I will.”

She huffed, and he reached for the waistband of her skirt. When he tried to pull it down, it caught on her hips, and he furrowed his brow. “Where the hell's the zipper on this thing?”

It was without warning when he grabbed her hips to flip her onto her stomach, and she yelped when he immediately pulled her hips back toward him to pull down the zipper of her skirt. He pushed her flat on her stomach to pull it down her legs, and when he did, she pushed her torso up to turn and look at him.

“Why am I the only one naked?” she asked, and he pushed her chest back down onto the bed with a firm hand between her shoulder blades. He slapped her ass absentmindedly.

“Relax. I'll take care of you.”

Although she huffed, her heart was racing as he ran a hand down her bare back. She twitched when his fingers dipped between her bare legs, and she parted them reflexively. The pads of his fingers were warm as they ran up her slit.

“So wet.” His tone was condescending. “So pretty.”

It was abrupt when he grabbed her by the thighs, pushing her to her knees, and he parted her legs by the calves. She braced herself on her forearms, arching her back, and he hummed agreeably. It was nervously that she glanced back at him, and she found him settling on his knees between her legs.

“You okay?” he asked softly. He kissed her bare lower back, and her tense shoulders softened. He leaned over her to kiss the back of her shoulder, and she felt his hard, clothed dick against her ass. She whined.

“Thomas, please, just fuck me.” She pushed herself back against him, shaking her hips. She dragged her ass down against his boner. “Don’t you want to?”

He hummed absently. “I’ll think about it.”

“Come on,” she pleaded, voice breaking. “Don’t make me wait any longer; I need you, I need you now.”

He laughed. “Aw, sugar, that badly?”

“Please?” she said softly.

“Yeah, alright.” The clang of him undoing his belt made her heart rate jump. The smooth sound of leather against fabric, and then the muted thud of the buckle hitting the floor. When she felt his dick tap her clit, sliding against her center, her hips twitched, and when his tip gently nudged her entrance, she pushed her hips desperately back against his, and he let her.

She could only take half of him on her own, and with a hand on the small of her back, he pushed himself the rest of the way in. She groaned.

“Fuck, that’s deep,” she said. He hummed in amusement, rolling his hips against hers, and she whimpered. “God, please move. Please?”

“Mhm.” When he began to thrust into her, it was shallow at first, and his pace was slow. Impatient, she snapped her hips back against his, fucking herself on his dick, and he moaned. “Yeah, just like that, sweetheart. Keep going.”

Although she did so vigorously, fists twisting in the sheets to brace herself to feel him deeper, he grabbed her by the hips, pulling them back at his own pace. As it quickened, she went limp in his grasp, doing her best to keep matching his movements, but her actions grew increasingly pathetic as he took control. He slapped her ass, gripping the meat of it.

It was a moment later when he grew impatient, grabbing her by the waist to push her down into the mattress. She squeaked as she lost her hold on the sheets she had been gripping for leverage, her cheek squished into the mattress beside her hands.

“Jesus, you feel good,” he grunted, leaning over her. His pace quickened, and she gasped. “You like that? You like it when I hold you down and fuck you?”

“Yeah,” she whined. “‘S good.”

“Yeah? You missed me blowing your back out? Huh?” He slapped her ass, and she squealed. “Say it.”

“Missed it. Fuck, please, I missed you,” she said. “So good. You’re so good.”

“Yeah, good girl,” he cooed, leaning over her back. He kissed her shoulder as he weaved a hand into her hair, and she whimpered when he pulled it back with a tight grip at the roots. Her head lifted off the mattress, mouth agape. “Taking it so good for me. So well behaved.”

His lips latched onto her shoulder, sucking her skin into his mouth, and she sagged against the mattress, eyes rolling back when his teeth sank lightly into it. When he pulled away, the skin was red and smarting. He kissed the resultant mark.

“Thomas, I need more,” she pleaded. “I can’t cum like this. Please, touch me.”

“Beg for it,” he said, releasing her hair, and she groaned.

“Please, please, I’ve been so good. I’ll be good for you, Thomas, anything you want,” she pleaded, and he hummed, his thrusts growing increasingly aggressive. His grip returned to her waist, pushing her down. “Need you, need you, need you.”

Her words were muffled as her face was against the sheets, and the movement of his hips against hers was becoming frantic.

“Keep going,” he panted, accelerating his thrusts, and she could feel that he was growing sloppy, beginning to lose his rhythm.

“Fuck, I’m desperate, touch me, make me come. You’re the only one I need; you’re the only one I want, but please, I need you.”

“Yeah? You need me? How bad?”

“So badly.” Her words were nearly a cry. “Please?”

“Fuck, I’m close,” he groaned, and she let out a broken whine.

“Please, let me cum, touch me,” she begged, and he leaned forward, pushing her down by her upper back. For only a moment, she could barely breathe as his hips hammered against hers.

“Oh, god, sweetheart.” His hips stilled against hers as he came, and after a moment, he released his hold on her back, leaning over her to kiss down her spine. She let out a shaky breath as he ran a gentle hand across her hip. “That was so good.”

“Mhm.” Her response was bitter and short, and he chuckled.

“What’s wrong, sugar?” He kissed her shoulder as he pulled out, and she didn’t respond, only going limp as she lay on the mattress. “Cat got your tongue?”

“‘M fine,” she said roughly. He hummed skeptically.

“Yeah?” His hands ran up her lower back, and he grabbed her by the hips to turn her over on the bed. She met his eyes with an impatient gaze. “C’mon, what’s the problem?”

As he settled between her legs on the mattress, she tensed, and his grip on her thighs was gentle.

“Thomas.” Her voice was warning.

“Mhm?” He blinked up at her innocently as he grabbed her hips, pushing them back.

“Please don’t tease,” she breathed, and he kissed her stomach softly, moving toward her center.

“When have I ever?” he asked, and when she rolled her eyes, he grinned. “Relax. I didn’t forget about you.”

“Thank god,��� she murmured, and she jerked when his thumb brushed over her already-sensitive clit. She whimpered when he rolled it under the pad of his finger.

“This what you meant when you said you wanted me to touch you?” His fingers dipped down to her soaked entrance, gathering both their cum before returning to her slick clit. Her hips twitched away from his hand, and he frowned mockingly. “Aw, sweetheart, are you sure you're not too sensitive? Maybe I should stop, I don't wanna push your limits.”

“No,” she groaned. “No more teasing. I need to cum.”

“You're making demands now?” His thumb was flicking her clit back and forth as he raised an eyebrow at her, and she pouted. Her hips rolled against the pattern of his movement.

“Please. I've been good.”

“Yeah, you have.” He kissed her thigh, and when his tongue took the place of his fingers on her clit, she let out a heavy sigh.

“Oh, fuck.” Her voice shook. He pushed one tentative finger inside her, but she was sore enough that she barely felt it. “Keep going.”

It was easy to lose herself in the feeling as he picked and sucked at her clit, curling his fingers inside her, and with how sensitive she already was, her orgasm built quickly. She could feel her pulse in her center, and her cunt tightened sporadically around his long fingers.

“So tight,” he commented, moving a finger back to her clit, and she groaned at the loss of feeling. “Such a perfect cunt. And you've been so good, so obedient.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, hands twisting into his sheets as he worked her over.

“You gonna keep being good for me if I let you cum, sweetheart?” he asked, flicking the tip of her clit lightly, and her breathing was short. She nodded frantically.

“I'm close, I'm close, I'm close.” The words were a whine, and when he returned to rubbing circles into her clit, she let out a squeak.

“That feel good?”

“So good,” she whimpered.

“Cum for me, then.” His grip on her hip tightened; the pace of his finger accelerated, and that was all she needed to send her over the edge. Her whole body tensed, back arching and legs stiffening as she came, and she was panting as she came down from it.

He didn't stop the movement of his hand against her. As she squirmed under his touch, she had to reach down and take him by the wrist.

“No more,” she pleaded breathlessly. “I can't take any more.”

He chuckled as he moved away, kissing down her leg. “Alright. No more. You were good for me.”

She hummed softly in response, and his hands came to rest on her calves just below her knees as her eyelids drooped.

“You okay?” he asked, and she sighed.

“I'm okay.” She rolled her head to one side to look down at him. “Does this mean we're good?”

He chuckled and kissed her knee. “I'll get over it.”

“Yeah?” She reached for his hand when he came to sit beside her on the mattress, and he turned his head to look at her when she gave it a squeeze. His smile was halfhearted.

“Yeah.” He turned back to look at the ceiling. “I did miss you. It's worth having you back.”

“I feel the same,” she said softly.

“‘M gonna find some pajamas and a rag real quick; you want me to grab you something to wear?”

She sighed, pushing herself off of the bed to sit up. “Yeah. Thanks. Don't bother with a rag, though, I should pee anyway.”

“Alright. Be back in a minute.” He sat up to kiss her forehead, taking her face in his hands as he did so, but when he pulled back, he didn't move for a moment, just watching her. His thumb swept over her cheek. “Alright.”

She swallowed when he stood to go to his closet, and she followed suit, heading to the bathroom. After she used it, she eyed her mussed hair in the mirror while she washed her hands, and her gaze settled on the hickies on her neck. She sighed and turned the water off.

Thomas wasn't back yet when she went to bed, but she was cold and so burrowed into one side of the sheets regardless. He would return minutes later with clothes for them both, but she was already beginning to drift off, the fatigue of the day weighing her down.

It was at the corner of her consciousness that she heard him come in and chuckle when he saw her. The sheets were pulled up to her cheekbone. She didn't stir when he dipped down to kiss the side of her head, taking his spot in the bed beside her.

“G’night, sweetheart,” he whispered. She didn't move. Her breathing was slow. “Love you.”

The words didn't break her rest, but she heard them. She also heard him hesitate and inhale harshly, and she heard the way his voice slowed when he, again, said, “I love you.”

She would wake up and write it off as a dream.

[takusan-no-ai]

The Good StepFather

PAIRING: Aqua/Ruby x Male Reader (Familia) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: (Y/N) is the boyfriend of Ai, and stepfather to Aqua and Ruby.

As an infant Aqua knew how much you meant to Ai. You encouraged her to follow her dreams of being a mother and an idol. And to make that possible you helped take care of them. You treated them delicately despite not even being related. It brought him back to his relationship with his relatives, and for a short period, Aqua treated you coldly; it was a measure taken to protect himself.

Aqua knew you were curious as to how knowledgeable he was for his age. But he appreciated that you still treated him like a kid. The true embodiment of a father, you didn’t want to see a kid grow up too fast. Even though Aqua wasn’t particularly moved by your efforts, it was still a kind gesture nonetheless.

He was fairly pleased at the interest you took in his hobbies. You encouraged him to do whatever he wanted, whether that was acting, behind the scenes work, or even being a surgeon. And you always tried to convince Aqua into doing father-son activities; sports, gaming, fishing, ect. After a while even Aqua had to admit it: he really liked you and that you would be there for Ai.

Aqua knew he could trust you from the day when you protected Ai from that stalker. It was thanks to that event that he even bothered opening up to you. Aqua and Ruby both trusted you to protect her whenever they weren’t there. And so, they confessed their origins of reincarnation.

Ruby was fairly on guard around you as an infant. Ai was HER idol and now her mother; not just anybody should have the honor to be her boyfriend. She wasn’t afraid to unabashedly simp for her mother though. Even with those walls she built up, they immediately crumbled when Ruby realized you were also a big Ai Hoshino fan.

Growing up was tough for Ruby. Being stuck in a hospital bed without her parents, even as she was dying, left her traumatized. She couldn’t handle falling down, fearing the worst. Ai was there to support her, but you were also there; her number one fan. “I’m so lucky to be the dad of an adorable idol”, glow sticks already made, coming to every single one of her practice sessions. Your commitment meant a lot to her.

Ruby had a whole bunch of hobbies, many of which were Ai’s. You made the effort of entertaining her past times: singing contest, dancing to Just Dance, dress up, and allowing her try out new makeup on you. Her favorite secret hobby however was shipping you and Ai; she’s still pestering you two to get married already!

Ruby already had an affection for you. In both of her lives you’ve been even better than her actual father. And she knew there was no going back on her trust in you on that day you protected Ai from her stalker. Since then Ruby made a promise to herself: if anything ever happened to you or Ai, she’d seek revenge on the person responsible. No matter what.

- Fin

[oshinohoshi]

Regarding Hikaru's culpability in Ai's death

The question of whether Hikaru meant to hurt Ai is still up in the air but in this post I'm going to make an extremely messy argument that Hikaru loved Ai and didn't mean to kill her!

Above: Hikaru said Ai had selfish and cruel sides (more like extremely avoidant tendencies but I digress) but there's no menace to his tone. He believed it was only natural for her to leave him.

I will say that Hikaru's below statement from ch 160 is pretty weird, especially after just learning that Ai loved him. Is that how he saw Ai? As a woman who deceived him and tried to make him obey her?

It does kind of align with the below Fatal lyrics which I can't see as anything other than a Hikaru song:

You have given me a fatal flaw Selfish giant star, ruined lives

I think both things can be true. He didn't hate Ai. He loved her more than anything. But he was bitter because he thought she didn't care about him.

He created a warped view of their relationship in which he was never loved or needed. But that bitterness, even anger at times, never appears to have devolved into murderous intent. Not when he was still so soft on her despite some of his more accusatory statements.

OK you're saying he didn't mean to kill her. But what about this?

I don't know, man. I just don't know. It's so antithetical to everything we know about him. It's one thing to lash out in a moment of pain but a slow burn manipulation like this requires intention. There's two explanations I can come up with.

He was twisting the screws for another reason. Maybe he wanted to exert control because he felt so powerless over the situation with Ai. Or perhaps he wanted a fellow Ai fanatic. Someone who would understand her significance.

Aqua is wrong.

But why did he change his story from stating he wanted Ryosuke to scare Ai (you fucking idiot, Hikaru) to just giving her a bouquet?

I'm a bit stumped here too. This guy is supposedly a master manipulator yet he couldn't keep his story straight?

Perhaps both of these were his motives but I don't know why he didn't say that from the start. I just don't think this is proof that he lied because it's not hard to keep such a basic story straight.

The best explanation I can come up with is that he told Ryosuke the address in a fit of anger and despair. He thought Ryosuke would scare her. He then gave him the bouquet. It was an "I love you/I want you to feel my pain" message for Ai.

OK, but if Aqua was right about Hikaru manipulating Ryosuke, then he knew Ryosuke was an Ai fanatic who could go off the rails in an instant. Especially if he learned that Ryosuke killed Gorou. And anyway, what the hell did he think he was going to do to scare her?

Augh. I'm just going to hope that Nino filled Hikaru in on Gorou's murder after Ryosuke died and therefore he didn't realize that Ryosuke was dangerous. As for what he thought Rysouke would do... I dunno. Give her the bouquet and glower at her? Tell her he knew about her kids?

My man was an idiot but I don't think that makes him a killer in this case. I mean, it would be scary enough for a fan to show up at your door with flowers from your ex.

My last piece of evidence that Hikaru didn't want to hurt Ai is that he was desperate to ensure nobody would surpass her, he wanted to feel her presence, and imo he was trying to preserve her memory.

Offing Ai is the opposite of all those things. He said that he killed Ai out of spite but I don't think that we're meant to take that literally.

Those panels at the top of my post and his obsessive adoration of Ai make it hard for me to believe he would try to harm her. Instead, he blamed himself - rightfully so - for sending Ryosuke to Ai's apartment and that's what he meant by killing her out of spite.

But this goddamn back and forth is why I'm so frustrated with Hikaru's characterization.

Is he a man who loved Ai, inadvertently caused her to die, and then spiraled into madness fueled by grief and guilt? Or is he a man who loved Ai, used Ryosuke to kill her, and then spiraled into madness because he regretted his actions?

Well, aside from all the reasons presented above, the story never explicitly tells us that he tried to kill Ai. Given that Crow Girl walks around spouting monologues about who is doing what and why, and Hikaru never thought about how he tried to murder Ai in his final moments, I've settled on: Hikaru is by no means an innocent man but he never wanted Ai dead.

I rest my case. It was shaky but I did my best.

[reilliane]

Septem (iii) ⊱⊰ Genshin!Various

✤ she/her - ✤ words: 3.8k

[ PART ONE ] [ PART TWO ]

✤ An Academy built to hone and prepare gods-to-be and blessed mortals for the world beyond — isn't it a dream come true, when a blank Vision greets you in invitation? ✤ News of your enrollment in Septem Academy reaches students who were dispatched for on-field training and expeditions. They are more than eager to return.

✤ neuvilette, wriothesley, freminet, lyney, gaming

a/n: for this part, mc is a part of hearth 'null'

It wasn't unheard of that there were students on official leave from the Academy, a handful of them coming from on-field training and expeditions [according to news/gossip central Kaveh and Childe].

It was the women that returned first, their new faces expressing surprise at the arrival of another 'Null' in their academy. They were all well acquainted compared to most, which relieved you. The rivalry in the Academy was no joke, so having more 'I-don't-have-time-for-competitions' ladies was a breath of fresh air.

You also wondered just how many students there were at Septem, it appeared like there were more than fifty or so—but then again, there really only was Septem that catered to people with elemental affinities.

You're still learning the ropes of being attuned to all seven elements by the time your first official semester met its curtain fall, right when the later group of men arrived. They were friendly, the whole lot of them, and compared to most of the men you've come to know who thrive in Hearth rivalries and competitions, everything was just a passing source of amusement to them.

It was rather disconcerting—but hey, so long as they were friendly, right?

— Neuvilette

Lo and behold, Hydro's Hearthleader in the very flesh.

A long, long time ago, according to accounts of the Hearthleaders, Hydro's authority had complications that led to the title being passed on to one after the other. Rumors even mentioned fraudulence and 'false' titles, who knew it had such a controversy?

Nevertheless, the past was the past, and all had been settled now. Kokomi mentioned that the issue was resolved a term before you arrived at the Academy, what are the odds!

Now, being the newest face around Septem meant being polite, so after your Potioneering class and after scrubbing away the residue of Lampgrass dew from your vest, you made a beeline to welcome the returning students along with Lumine and Aether.

Hydro's Hearthleader wasn't there, however, having reported to the Headmaster as soon as he arrived. Far from being chagrined, you make formal introductions with everyone else after an embarrassing trip down the stairs.

Your first official meeting with the one and only was during the Hearthleader's Assembly, a time of discussion over the next events, competitions, charity programs, festivals, and the whole shebang that takes place at the start of each semester.

Since there's no Hearthleader for the Nulls, Aether and Lumine take turns in attending; and since your enrollment, this happened to be your first Assembly.

Familiar faces you've gotten to know calmed your nerves, being in good standing with everyone else but that man who stared you down with inquisitive eyes.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss [Name]. I am Neuvilette, Hearthleader of Hydro, I've heard wonders about you, and I look forward to your presence in the Academy. Should you be in need of any assistance, or have been wronged by anyone, I implore you to seek me.”

Long silver hair with streaks of aqua, a passive expression on his features, a walking cane that screamed luxury, and a cloak that billowed like the current—if you thought Ayato had an imposing aura as Hearthmaster, then you were terribly wrong.

Hearthleader Neuvilette appeared to be a man of a few words, his gaze oft inexplicable as he firmly shook your hand after giving it a thoughtful look. You thought you were a moment away from interrogation, but he only turned your hand over and kissed its back. Wha-?

You could manifest a question/exclamation mark out of your head at the gesture, Hearth Hydro's chivalry flying off the charts and rendering you speechless. Ayato, he did it with some sort of 'gentleman cunning' if that was even a word pair, Xingqiu did it out of sincerity, Childe was more playful with it, and Dottore—well, that man was peculiar. [He was misplaced and transferred to a different Hearth.]

You didn't expect this tall, handsome, intimidating Hearthleader to do the same. But then again, with a position like his, he was meant to embody what his Hearth represented, right? You shouldn't have been so shocked.

Throughout the Assembly, however, the awe remained. He even his tea, saying it was only right to extend good tidings to the newest student in Septem. He barely smiled, but his eyes were—well, they were softer than you realized.

He even apologized on behalf of his Hearthmates 'in case they did anything to offend you', which got you shaking your head wildly and responding that they were most courteous. Childe was more of a playful menace, but you omitted that part. And ooooh boy, with the subtly proud look he wore on his face brought about by your answer, you didn't dare say anything about Childe's flirtations.

Huh! Perhaps the man wasn't so bad after all. In fact, he was mellow. You realized that the air around him and Zhongli was a little tense though, and not in the good sense. Thankfully, they were composed and tolerant of one another—but you couldn't shake off the feeling that they had issues running deeply that they didn't want to address. At least not of late. Oh well.

The long-standing tradition of Hearth Hydro's invitation for tea parties ensued. With their Hearthleader back in their ranks alongside other returning students, the long winding table in their great hall was finally complete. Insert a couple of chairs for you—and Aether and Lumine whenever they join in—and everything was solid.

Hearthleader Neuvilette's return also had a significant impact on the rest of the Hearths, mainly Hearth Dendro's residents... and particularly Kaveh, who showed a bit more restraint when contending with Childe. Their rivalries didn't disperse into thin air, no, but it became a tad 'quieter'. That alone was quite alarming, but the ladies in Hearth Hydro said that it was frankly normal; with Neuvilette back in the picture, the Student Council's Iudex was basically in his seat again.

No wonder everyone's rowdiness suddenly got tamer.

Being a Hearthleader and the Iudex—practically accounting for as the Head of the Student Council—commanded authority. You heard that it was previously Zhongli, but he has long since stepped down. While Zhongli managed with more order along with lax but well-managed funding for events and programs, Neuvilette was more of an adjudicator, valuing justice and equality.

Reading the records of his just governance made you gulp. Really? That same guy who personally pulled your chair for you to sit? Who permits you to have the first sip of tea during his tea party even when his Hearthmades say that he's never done that before?

It was common courtesy! Common courtesy, yes!

“Since Hearthleader came back, those Dendro know-it-alls can barely do anything during our debates during Incantations class, hah!” “Are you implying that you've both gone overboard with your Incantations when I was absent, Childe?” “Wha- hey now, I didn't mean it like that... Hearthmaster was with me the whole time.” “You don't want to tempt our Hearthleader, Ajax. Do you recall the last time you provoked them? We had to disturb Sigewinne from her shift in the infirmary.” “You speak as if you weren't a part of it, Hearthmaster.” “Now, where'd you get that idea, lady Mona?” “Well, the past is the past. Whatever happened, I'm certain you were all responsible enough to handle the consequences. Let us begin the tea party—.. where is lady Furina?” “I believe lady Barbara was last with her.” “Oh! I, um- I have slipped up; I accidentally told her that since she wasn't here for the Theater Program that was being planned for the public, Hearth Pyro had to take the spot. I think she's contending for the main role...” Ding! “Was that yours, lady Kokomi?” “Yes, I just received a message from Furina.. she says to come and help her because the casting director put her on a list, and the temporary manager for the Theater is Madame Arlecchino...” “... This tea party is paused.”

— Wriothesley, Freminet

You did not want to admit it nor did you want to condemn the sweet guy, but perhaps lounging about Hearth Pyro's dorm had Bennett's catastrophic bad luck rubbing off on you.

Recently, you had a bout of stumbling into unfavorable circumstances that inevitably led to tons of false accusations. Of course, your innocence was easily proven given you had alibis and witnesses. But this time- ohoho, no.

It had been a relatively nice afterlunch and you were just about to head into the library for an arranged study group with Candace and the rest of Hearth Hydro's ladies when you chanced upon a waddling mechanical.. penguin? It had cute tiny gears for eyes and a winding key attached to its back.

You would coo—but that was if it didn't have a sword and buckler on and was terrorizing a frantic Itto and Gorou out of Ingenuity class. Thinking quickly on your feet, you cast a minor Cryo spell that froze the penguin's mechanical feet so it couldn't continue chasing after its victims. Then, you moved to pry the sword and buckler—but it was at this exact time that a cough came from the back.

Heizou and another student who looked far gruffer than expected looked on with equal parts amusement and disbelief. You only saw the latter in passing since he was a part of the last returning batch of students, but he had sped away to some office before you could get to him that day.

You did not think this would be how you'd officially meet him!

“Um.. good afternoon.” great, what a way to imply that you were not the perpetrator of chaos nor the inventor of a killing machine.

“Good afternoon, indeed.” Heizou mused, and the man beside him clicked his tongue with a shake of his head.

“I know you, miss [Name]. I need you to come with me though,”

There was a sound of metallic clinking and—hold on, were those handcuffs?!

“We can discuss this situation in a civilized manner in my office, yeah?”

Although Heizou promised that he'd do his best to investigate the situation with Cyno since you weren't the kind of person to have an incentive to end someone's life, you were far too restless sitting in what you could only assume was some kind of interrogation room.

What on Teyvat—the fact that such a place even existed was beyond you! What were the odds that this location was underneath the Academy? It felt like descending into a completely different environment; what with all the machines and metal that gave off a steampunk feel.

The man in front of you was fixing his cufflinks, unbothered by your presence. Wriothesley was his name, part of Hearth Cryo, and the Warden of the Student Council. Specifically the head of SC's Discipline Committee.

Septem's higher-ups loved designating lots of managerial roles to their students, huh? But well, you understood why; Vision-holders were preconceived to take on a majority of roles in their nations' government once they graduate, so this was some kind of field training for them!

.. Why did he have to go the extra mile and carry some handcuffs, though? And can a man look so stern and give off such a relaxed vibe? Somehow, he reminded you of a Hearthleader you met just recently.

Surprisingly, when the talk began, Wriothesley reassured that he wouldn't harm you—the handcuffs were just there to make sure you wouldn't be doing the harming. It was funny, you don't think you could even make a dent in his muscular—yeah...

He was also very accommodating?? Serving you tea and biscuits as if you weren't bound and were the primary suspect of a potential campus homicide. It wasn't true, of course, but still; if there were actual bad people that found themselves underneath the Academy, was he always this cordial?

Ah, well, he did say he liked things civilized. When Heizou and Cyno—who joined in on the investigation—entered the room and clarified that you were, in fact, innocent, Wriothesley was quick to offer his apologies... even sliding a few coupons he whispered gave a huge discount in Fontaine's restaurants.

“I certainly do apologize. I had to take precautionary measures. It eases me that Neuvilette's insight was true, though; you do come off as a good woman that likes to behave.”

ASDFGHJKL?? Boy, why was he smiling?

“I'm so sorry I dragged you into my mess... I shouldn't have left Thelxie alone when he was already malfunctioning. I ran off to get the tools I needed, but.. huh? You forgive me?”

A shy and downcasted student distracted you from Wriothesley's statement, and your attention was thrown off. The creator of the dangerous penguin machine was a guy who didn't even look to have any malicious intent. It was a misunderstanding with a dash of improper management and impairment.

He was carrying the recently tinkered penguin in his arms, which was free from its weapon and shield, and now that it was harmless, it looked cute.

The student shyly introduced himself as Freminet, and you recognized him as one of the boys that stood at the far back of the group when they returned a few weeks ago, willing himself to be invisible. He was Lyney's younger brother if you weren't mistaken. It was so amazing how siblings could be so vastly different in personalities.

Freminet was kind enough—or perhaps he did it because he was kicking himself over his blunder—to escort you out of the 'Fortress', leading the way back to the upper levels and to the ground floor of the Academy. He didn't say a word the entire while.

When all was over, he bowed his head and sped off. Feeling sorry for him, you didn't give chase. The guy felt so bad, you couldn't even be mad for today's fortune.

But since that day, little trinkets would appear on your desk during Ingenuity class. You never got to see who left them there, but judging by the waddling mechanical penguin you spotted trying to escape the door one day... you had a feeling you knew who it came from.

Wriothesley had a knack for 'apprehending' misfits, and you only later learned that there was an apparent reason for his calculated 'hunts'. Hearth Cryo, in their weekly gatherings bundled around the fireplace, liked to chat about a lot of things going on in the Academy.

They didn't mean anything bad, really, but the Hearthmembers were keen on observing, opting out of any outward actions unless the situation required their intervention. So of course, the only outlet for such a bundle of news—read: 'innocent' gossip—was during their get-togethers.

It was a den of information—and daresay, you wouldn't forget the time you were invited for a sleep-over and got a firsthand experience of Hearth Cryo's scary number of observations.

You reminded yourself not to look stupid whenever any of them were nearby.

“The windows are broken in Elementals Class again, and it had just been repaired last week... it gets tiresome to look out for the perpetrator... I often fall asleep..” “Elementals... supernatural entities can harm physical entities, so perhaps-?” “I don't think ghosts are the issue, Chongyun. But I do have an idea... hm, do you recall that bottle we saw underneath the table, Charlotte?” “Yes, yes, sir Kaeya! I took a photo of the room for documentation to send to the Student Council. It was a wine bottle!” “Oh.. I also saw a wine bottle tucked in one of the drawers in Ingenuity Class.” “Ingenuity Class? Duly noted, Freminet.” “Alcohol consumption is forbidden on school grounds so that clearly violates one of the terms in the student handbook.” “Such irresponsibility.. not to mention the lack of accountability. Vengeance will come upon them, surely. Tsk. Are rules not being reinforced enough?” “Precisely, miss Ganyu, Eula. That is why it is only right to search for said students and have them come in for a little questioning, perhaps also give them a due punishment. It's only right that we stand by the given order.” “.. That wouldn't be easy, right? There are so many s-students in Septem, and this has already been going on for so long..” “Yes, but it isn't impossible, Mika, after all..” “Wait, hold on, has anyone seen Rosaria?” “Oh, miss Ayaka, worry not. She's scoping out the potential rulebreakers as we speak.”

— Lyney, Gaming

You remembered the day you rushed out of Potioneering class to greet the returning students—and now that you're actually going down memory lane, your attempt at decorum was met half-heartedly midway. By the time you arrive at the front gates, most of them have already gone off to their own agendas.

The only ones there were a pair of boys that goofed around with one another, and another shy-looking one with a quiet girl. It was such an embarrassing introduction, really. In your delight, you may have hurried down the steps a little too fast... and ended up tripping and stumbling on your way down.

Your shriek took their attention, and the guy nearest to the stairs was quick enough to catch you.

Safe to say, you went back to your dorm that day unable to talk to Aether and Lumine, opting to flop onto your bed, red face first.

Since then, meeting those boys would always trigger that moment in your head and you'd scramble or shy away against your better judgment. It took a long while before you were able to talk to them without feeling like you wanted to throw yourself out the window.

Before that instance, they took it upon themselves to approach—sometimes corner—you for a stroll outside the Academy. They expended such a ridiculous amount of energy that you thought you spent a decade's worth of magic reserve.

Students in Hearth Pyro were no joke.

“Woah there! Glad I caught ya, you're fine, right? Better in my arms than the ground. Trust me... it sucks.”

Gaming was the one that caught you that day, a relieved laugh escaping his lips as he held you in such a way that looked as if he dipped you in a dance, it was humiliating. He didn't tease you or anything, though, bless his good heart.

Very extroverted much like his hearthmates, he blatantly called you over to sit with him in the cafeteria one afternoon. It wouldn't be a problem if he hadn't called from across the place and every head had turned to look at the two of you. Quick steps led you to the table he shared with Xiangling, Hu Tao, Xingiu, and Chongyun, with the Cryo student looking empathetic.

Now, being with Gaming didn't spell tons of embarrassing moments, of course. If there was a student popularity ranking in the Academy—you heard there was one a long time ago, but that got scrapped because certain people got competitive..—Gaming probably would've gotten the lead, or he would've tied with either Lumine or Aether.

Everyone knew the guy! Apparently, it was because he acted as the bridge to the Academy and Teyvat, escorting civilians in and out of Septem for respective visits. Sometimes, he worked alongside Kirara from Hearth Dendro, who handled the delivery of tiny parcels and souvenirs to and fro.

Boy, the energy he had was endless! Students coming from Hearth Pyro had this uncanny ability to mingle with other Hearths and not get tired; Gaming was the same, but he was taking it up a notch when even the professors adored him.

One time, he was showing you the ropes of Wushu Dancing when he tripped over a prop and ended up stumbling over you to the floor with his huge dragon head prop and all. Needless to say, Charlotte and Childe chanced upon you at the wrong time, and.. well, it was a hassle to dispel whatever rumor and gossip sprung then.

“What a stroke of luck that was, wasn't it, miss [Name]? Oh dear, you must've been frightened, here you are, a little magic to distract you~ Tada! A rose!”

This Academy wasn't so strict with its uniform policy, you realized. So long as they wore the standard fit with either the vest or the blazer, they could add whatever flair they wanted. And Lyney, well, he wore a top hat, selling the point of a charming magician quite well with his twin sister Lynette.

You never forgot the way he mischievously leaned over when Gaming had caught you in your first meeting, rubbing his chin and musing about 'a maiden having fallen from the steps of heaven'. It was flustering because he wasn't entirely off; the corridor you went from previously led to the Mirror Court, where the entire environment was the very sky.

Some days, you wondered if Lyney was misplaced like Dottore was. With how he was acting, it felt like he belonged in Hearth Hydro. He wasn't a student who actively exhibited an interest in rivalries, but you learned that his smile served well in magic shows as it did with passive-aggressive goading. He liked playing innocent.

This guy also loved leaving roses on your desk. The first time it happened, you mistook it as something that came from Ayato or anyone from Hearth Hydro [the men there had a tradition of giving flowers to women]. They didn't really give red roses, but still.

Long story short, Lyney bounded up to you after class with Lynette and Freminet in tow looking so excited, only to have his eye twitch when you spoke about your due thanks to someone from Hearth Hydro.

He got so melodramatic over it that he reasoned the only way to make up for punching his heart was to—surprise surprise! Go see a movie with him on the weekend. You didn't have any problems with it—but you didn't know he meant it as going outside the Academy, to a mall. When certain people heard of it, well... suddenly there were other invites to the movies, too.

There was never a lonely day in Hearth Pyro, and the arrival of the rest of its members seemed as though everyone got twice as exuberant in their day-to-day activities. Alternatively, it also meant a lot more managing from Dehya and Diluc.

Lyney and Gaming offered another layer of elation and intensity in the Hearth's hosted events for Septem, and both had audiences even outside Septem Academy. They have tons of followers on their social media that they could almost pose as celebrity students, especially Lyney, Yoimiya, Xinyan, and Diluc. Hu Tao was also famous but.. for a completely different reason.

Anyway, Hearth Pyro was hosting a Theater Program that keyed on Romeo and Juliet, with musical scores and scenes held in collaboration with Yunjin from Hearth Geo. Anything theatrical was often hosted by Hearth Hydro, but given that Furina wasn't present in the making, the duty fell upon the hyperactive, exuberant group in the Academy. Amber invited you to sit in on their casting discussion, but never thought you'd actually get roped in the production process...

“Where's Amber? Oh, and Yanfei?” “Amber's fetching [Name]. Yanfei is passing on the documents for estimated expenses and all the jazz for this Program we're hosting.. say, lemme help ya with that, Diluc.” “No need, Dehya. It's fine—where's Bennett?” CRASH! “I'm here!” “Oooh, [Name]'s coming, is she? Are Aether and Lumine coming with?” “I don't think they're going to come knowing how you pulled them into one of your advertisements for your funeral service business, Hu Tao...” “Teehee!” “Chevruse, do you have prospects for our lead roles? Miss Arlecchino waits for the list. She appears quite fond of this play.” “Ah, Thoma. Lyney here was very vocal about wanting to try something new outside his magical shows, but he'll still have to audition for the role along with Venti, Xingqiu, Kaeya, and Ayato.” “Sir Kaeya and the Hearthmaster Ayato? How- well, the compensation for the lead roles is pretty big.” “I'm just as confused and weirdly excited, Xiangling.” “Hey.. sir Kaeya's trying out. Diluc, don't cha want to try and audition for Romeo, too-” “M'afraid not, Xinyan.” “Lyney's only choosing to audition because he made a bet with Lynette and lost. It wouldn't hurt if [Name] gets to be Juliet, though, right?” “Gaming, my friend, what's got you assuming? Ahaha...” “Hold on, why are there so many prospects, anyway? The last time a Theater Program was held, no one was this interested in acting. What gives?” “Huh? I thought Yoimiya and Hu Tao said that they got [Name]'s consent to be Juliet. Wasn't that why Amber was getting her?” “WHAT?” “Thoma, you ratted us out! D:” “I- I didn't know that they didn't know!”

a/n

LMAO yes, welcome to the harem, men. haaaah, this is finally out. it's been long! i ought to write septem scenarios just so i can write about every single character there is lmao! feels nice to write again. i have another idea in mind for this au and it excites me hehehehhe-

[aihoshiino]

chapter 154 thoughts

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 11

Aqua Hoshigan Status: (Still) white

man

This is one of those chapters where, technically speaking, I should probably be tearing it to bits (AND I DEFINITELY WILL) - it represents a pretty substantial break in or retcon to the series continuity as it's been presented to us thus far and the actions of certain characters in the lead up to this event don't quite make sense if they've had access to some of the information that's seemingly been in their hands for a while but… would you guys forgive me if I said I didn't really care LOL. As I've said before, I'm the sort of reader who can excuse a lot of raw Plot Bullshit so long as I feel like the hearts of the characters are intact and for all its fumbles, this is a chapter I think is unerringly dedicated to the hearts of its characters. I've made no secret of the fact that Ai is and always has been my main avenue of investment in Oshi no Ko as a series and in this chapter, we uncover the final secret in her heart in particular after having the entire series thus far dedicated to laying it bare to us.

We pick up exactly where we left off last chapter with the reveal that the HKAI breakup was indeed founded on Ai's pregnancy, as a lot of us had predicted.

This, uh, does not quite line up with previous events!

From what we'd previously been told, in terms of placement in the timeline, the death of Airi and her husband happened after the twins were born and sometime in the leadup to the Dome concert, which would put it in the ballpark of Ai's 18th to 20th birthday depending on how long it was in the works for. But based on how this flashback section is structured, it seems to place their deaths before Ai even knew she was pregnant, let alone giving birth. If it was just clashing with 15YL's retelling then I could dismiss that as an element of the movie's fictionalization that we've seen and Kamiki alludes to but this also clashes with where this event was placed temporally by Ichigo, when remembering a real life event. So… What gives!!!!

Like, at the end of the day, the exact placement of Uehara's death only matters inasmuch as it needs to be before Ai gets her new apartment, since the point Ichigo is really making is that Aqua is pinning his hopes on a dead man who was dead before he could have ever contributed to Ai's murder. But placing it that far back in the timeline - before the twins were even born! - just makes Aqua's willful ignorance in relation to it come off as a lot sillier and more difficult to swallow than if it happened closer to Ai's actual date of death.

I'm also a little disappointed that we really quickly breeze past Ai revealing she's pregnant - it's not the point of the scene overall and it would be weird to go really deep into her POV in the middle of a Kamiki flashback but one of my big issues with the Movie Arc was that it ripped past anything and everything to do with Ai's pregnancy, including how she herself felt about being pregnant. Like I said in my 145 review, skipping over the parts of it we've seen makes sense but I think there's still a bunch of really fascinating potential in exploring how Ai felt when she realized she was pregnant - how did she hide it for long enough that she was almost halfway through her pregnancy and getting fucking enormous before her first checkup? How did Ichigo and Miyako react when they first got the news? There's so much juicy character and relationship work you could mine out of that but the story fails to do so. We sort of get a crumb of this in the DVD but her feelings there are all centered on the pregnancy in relation to Hikaru and even then she breezes past it so fast it's clearly not meant to be the focus of any of what she's saying and idk. For a character whose entire hook is her struggles with motherhood, familial love and all the rest of it, that's a little disappointing.

THAT SAID!!! All that makes me sound like I didn't like what went on with Ai this chapter but I actually loved it. It's so painfully in line with everything we've been told and shown about her thus far in the manga and in this chapter, we see all her strengths, weaknesses and human contradictions laid bare in a way I find incredibly rewarding and compelling.

The HKAI breakup especially is just soooooo deliciously cringe inducing. It's an echo of the argument with Nino that 15YL portrays, where Ai's good intentions, avoidant tendencies and absolute absence of tact all snowball and end up ruining one of her most important relationships. Like… I can't believe I'm about to say this about a conversation in which Ai is one of the people talking, but she really is the reasonable one here! She's right to identify that their relationship is not working, that adding babies and marriage to the mix will only make things worse - her intentions, as they always are, are good and she's making her decisions with Kamiki in mind… her delivery is just absolutely dogshit!!! GIRL, PLEASE, YOUR WORDS!!!! USE YOUR WORDS!!!!!

For all my issues with Akasaka's writing lately, I think he portrays these kinds of two sided failures of communication so well, where you can see exactly where both characters are coming from and why they are failing to get their feelings across to each other. From an outsider's POV it's clear as day that Ai views herself and her children as the burden, one she doesn't want to put on Kamiki for the sake of a girl who doesn't even know if she can love him… but is it any wonder why Kamiki took it the way he did and why his guts were so utterly wrenched out as a result?

Kamiki's attempted proposal and Ai's immediate rejection of it are really interesting with the context of 45510 in particular. Extrapolating from her talk of marriage there, she brushed him off so quickly because she simply didn't believe he was serious… and yeah, he's pretty clearly not fully cognizant of the weight of what he's trying to propose, never mind that he's meeting "let's break up" with "LET'S GET MARRIED" lol.

Also interesting to extrapolate from both 45510 and other material surrounding Ai is that, at that point in her life, she simply didn't understand what the point of marriage was. On top of her being Literally Sixteen And A Child right now, Ai is said to have come from a deeply dysfunctional home where her mother engaged in a number of equally dysfunctional relationships, at least one of whom was with a man who was creeping on Ai even as he was working up to marry her mom. It's no wonder she doesn't really take the idea of marriage seriously, but it still hurts so see her reject Kamiki so bluntly - even more bluntly in the Japanese text somehow, simply chirping 無理! (Muri!) in response, i.e, not just "no way" but telling Kamiki to his face it's impossible.

Honestly this whole breakup scene is so darkly hilarious just in terms of how bad Ai is completely beefing it. Congrats babygirl that's the worst anyone's ever done it!!!

And we finally get the "I can't love you" drop after just shy of 25 chapters of buildup…….. And honestly, it feels a little hollow.

I talked about this a little before so forgive me for repeating myself but that line - or rather, Aqua and Ruby's implied misunderstanding of it - from Ai to Hikaru was given a huge amount of weight in the story when it was first introduced. It was implied to be the lynchpin in which everything else about the HKAI romance rested only for the story to go UH WELL ACTUALLY IT'S ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT AI FORGIVES HER KILLER which is like… fine, it just feels very jarring on a reread or when trying to sew together a plot thread like this. It especially feels strange because the emphasis is placed on them not getting it right or at least that Gotanda disagrees with their interpretation, only for the manga to whip back around and not only return this line to its previous heightened importantance but also to largely not line up with what was established about this line and its place in the narrative when it was first introduced. It's just more evidence that Akasaka's plans for the Movie Arc and its resolution changed in some way during serialisation because these inconsistencies are pretty glaring.

Not just that, but like… it's hard to feel impacted by this line when we didn't even see it in the Movie Arc. In general, it's so fucking weird that so much about the main emotional resolutions going on right now revolve around Ruby's performance in the movie when most of the big emotional moments people are reacting to are happening entirely offscreen. This would already be bad even if it wasn't taking place in a manga like OnK with its increasingly frustrating habit of offscreening more and more bits of the story that are extremely important for the characters. Before this chapter I would've said that maybe we'd see some of it after the movie released but given that Kamiki's arc and the revenge play as a whole is pretty clearly wrapping here, what would even be the point of it?

Idk. It's just increasingly obvious (and just as frustrating) to me just how much of the Movie Arc was wasted time and how much of the setup that needed to happen to make what follows really land just… didn't. This chapter's resolution for Ai and Hikaru, both separately and as a couple, is still excellent, but it could have been a lot better if its foundations weren't so meager.

We also finally get concrete proof from the horse's mouth that Kamiki was the one who deliberately leaked Ai's address and……. honestly this is kind of a wet fart too lol. OnK has previously very strongly implied that "Kamiki is Ai's killer" was a red herring or that we should at least be slightly skeptical of Aqua's assertions and conclusions but… nope, he was right all along, I guess?? Alright………………………… I certainly don't believe his insistence that gosh he totes didn't think Ryosuke would go THAT far and I'm still wondering wtf the two of them were doing at the hospital the night the twins were born but like. Honestly at this point, I don't really think it matters and I care much more about emotional resolutions than I do granular plot details - and boy do we get one hell of an emotional resolution.

I haven't shouted her out yet because I was saving it for this section but fuck, man, Mengo's expression work told chapter is killer as usual but this final stretch of pages is just gutwrenching. Ai's gentle, rueful smile on the DVD contrasted with the look of shocked, dawning understanding on Kamiki's….. Jesus Christ.

And at last, we uncover the final secret hidden at the bottom of Ai's heart. The entire manga thus far has been a process of stripping away the viewer's willful ignorance with regards to Ai's humanity but the DVDs had been an oddly ominous mystery box floating around, containing some implied dark secret that would change the entire trajectory of Ai's character as we knew it… but of course, the person who tells us that is Ai herself, a girl who hates herself, thinks of herself as dirty and impure, irresponsible and incapable of love.

So is it really any surprise that her darkest secret, the thing she can only confess with her eyes shining with black stars is simply that she's a fallible human? That she was a lonely young girl, confused and hurt in her own ways and that she hurt someone she dearly cared for and wanted to take it back?

Is it a little convenient that she put all this in the DVD? Yes, absolutely, and I'll be the first to say that the DVDs existing at all are a pretty clear retcon in service of getting info onto Aqua's hands. But it's also perfectly in line with Ai's timid, avoidant methods of reaching out. It parallels both Viewpoint B and 45510 (moreso the latter) where she pours her heart out in words, waiting for others to read and understand her. In 45510 in particular, her leaving the blog post is an extremely clear and strong parallel to the DVD - love letters put into bottles and thrown to the ocean in desperate hope the person they're addressed to might find and understand them.

As Akane says, Ai is torn between secrecy and a desire to have her true self exposed, so she attempts to craft scenarios in which this must happen, even if her avoidance can only allow her to do so with indirect methods. With the blog and moreso the DVDs & their method of delivery, Ai attempts to create situations where the initiation confrontation and disclosure is out of her hands and she has no choice but to tell the truth.

Ai's entire speech here is just heartbreaking. If the start of the chapter didn't make it explicit enough, we see her here put her good intentions into words to better understand how they were misinterpreted.

This adds SUCH a fascinating additional layer to her death that has me gnashing my fucking teeth. One of the things I've talked about a lot in my Ai meta is that Ryosuke is essentially an agent or even an embodiment of the entertainment industry and the way it has exploited her - the misogyny, entitlement, purity culture and abuse that ruled her life went on to end it. With this additional detail, though, Ryosuke becomes an agent not just of the things that plagued Ai of B-Komachi, but Ai as a human, too. All her life, Ai is willfully misunderstood and mischaracterized by the people around her, assigned narratives and roles without her consent and punished for both living up to and failing to live up to them. Ai's death is the end result of a lifelong cascade of failure on the part of every system and individual that has had the opportunity and responsibility to care for her - and, as Aqua throws in his father's face, that includes Hikaru.

Hikaru's supposed understanding of Ai is not one based in empathy or love but projection and possessiveness - understanding in this context is ownership, exclusivity and frankly, arrogance. A claim to a piece of Ai that no one else knows. But as Aqua forces him to realize… Hikaru never understood Ai, even as she did her best to make herself understood. For all his arrogance of understanding Ai and the nature of their relationship, Kamiki is ultimately just the same as every other person who idolized and objectified her then discarded her when the image they'd created in their mind didn't match reality. Ai wasn't his pure and perfect soulbonded saviour - she was a lonely, broken kid like him, still struggling to understand love after a lifetime spent starved of it.

Once, Kamiki begged Ai to save him. And here, the bitter truth is laid out for all of us: the salvation Kamiki had wished for was waiting for him, reaching out with open arms and he not only desecrated it but irrevocably destroyed any path back towards it. In killing Ai, Hikaru Kamiki killed himself.

The imagery of this moment is so fucking gorgeous. The visual of Kamiki and Ai reaching out to each other, in mutual understanding at last but separated by time and death… the "what if" happy Hoshino family… Ai's words being framed as a 'love letter' that transcended time to reach Kamiki and Aqua's eyes blazing with white as tears pour down his face… Jesus fucking Christ Mengo I'm already dead!!!!!

Like I said up top, I make zero secret of the fact that I am primarily invested in Ai above everything else in the manga and the way her importance has been seemingly downplayed since the late 130s mark chapter wise has really bugged me. As such, this chapter was INSANELY cathartic for me. Not only do we get a really beautiful cap to Ai's post death arc (hopefully finally killing those dumbfuck Secretly Evil Ai theories for good) but it's done in a way that once again recenters her love and her wishes as the heart of everything. Even Aqua's revenge play is completely redefined in this context - no longer the childish, selfish and self destructive lashing out we've seen before but as a quest to both honor Ai and to punish the person arrogantly assuming ownership of her heart even as he so catastrophically misunderstands her.

This is a really fantastic end to Aqua's arc too… on paper, that is. I know for a fact that a certain genre of OnK readers are going to bitch and moan that Aqua didn't run his dad over with a 2003 Honda Civic but I really can't imagine Aqua's revenge quest going any other way unless OnK was intended to be a pure tragedy. Over and over, we have seen that Aqua's revenge is at odds with not just his happiness but with Ai's wish for him to live a full life with a bright future. It is self destructive, hurtful to the people around him and antithetical to any of them moving on and reclaiming what their futures. With the emphasis the story places on moving towards a happy future, in selfishly reclaiming your happiness even in the face of systems that seek to crush you and on honouring Ai's wishes and legacy, it would be flatly thematically incoherent for Aqua to choose killing.

The issue is not with this as Aqua's end point but with the path we've taken to get here. As was the issue with Ruby during the Movie Arc, we don't actually see any of the internal work that happened in service of this arc, just the big emotional end points of offscreen development. But it stings especially bad with Aqua when such a huge chunk of the last few arcs locked us out of his head, sharply contrasting the start of the story that lived and breathed his interiority - AND when this is more or less the capstone to his series long struggle to choose love or revenge. It's not that I dislike this as an emotional payoff for Aqua's revenge - this is more or less beat for beat what I'd expected - but that it lacks proper support from the rest of the story. In general, this chapter falls flatter than it should because all this heightened, dramatic emotion rests on arcs and setup that simply have not been shown to the reader, save for Ai.

Speaking of Ai, the info in the DVD here potentially represents a pretty major break in the continuity of Aqua's behaviour based on when we're told he had access to it but I'm willing to bite my tongue and see if that gets filled in, if only because this chapter review is already so fucking long. Let's just say that I Noticed and I sure hope Aka or his editors did too.

And finally… Oh, hey there, Ruby! Aren't you an interesting little snarl to this chapter. Or maybe "snarl" isn't quite right, but her presence here is potentially interesting either way. I'm not quite sure how to read both her expression and her presence - the expression on her face looks VERY displeased and it looks to me like she's outside the room, so is she maybe eavesdropping and not happy with what she hears? Or is she in on Aqua's talk with Kamiki here and just struggling with her emotions with regards to it all? I'm quiety hoping it's the latter, because it would confirm that Ruby DID recognize her dad in 147 and Akasaka wasn't expecting me to believe he was hitting her with the stupid stick quite that hard lol.

In either case, I'm actually excited to see what Ruby takes away from this. In the ways that AQRB has echoed the HKAI dynamic, Ruby has always been in Kamiki's shoes - the one desperate to be saved, clinging to her oshi and relying on him as her sole bastion of light in the world. So what will she think now after being faced with the logical endpoint of this wished-for codependence? When she sees how destructive and self destructive it can potentially be? Just as she saw Ai reflected in herself, will Ruby see her father in her own reflection - and if so, what will she do about it?

Break next week! So we'll be sitting pretty for two weeks to find out. Not that I actually mind this time because with a chapter like this on top of season 2 of the anime coming back today, a week without a break might have actually killed me… please, akamengo, i'm just a little guy!!!!

[officialdaydreamer00]

House fire

ROLLO FLAMME — in which one can predict a student exchange program might go south real quick

COLLAB WORK with @unfictinalnightmare for [The chimes of comfort]

CONTENT — takes place after glorious masquerade, our yuusonas (hillary and irene) are yuu, silly shenanigans with hillary and irene, rollo will show up soon :)

TAGGINGS — @cloudcountry @identity-theft-101 @xen-blank @esmerulia-chantelle @dove-da-birb @cookiesandbiscuits @vioisgoinginsane @siren-serenity @loser-jpg @axvwriter @aqua-beam @edith-is-a-cat @minimallyminnie @thehollowwriter @taruruchi @cyanide-latte @ferris-thewheel + others :3

Do reblog or comment if you enjoy my work! ^-^

Chapter 1: An undeniable request || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5

"WHAT?!"

"As I have just said, I want the two of you to act as our representatives when Mr. Flamme arrive to Night Raven College in the next student exchange."

The headmage offered the two girls in front of them a smile. Black and white, blood red and sea green, both were staring at their 'beloved' headmage with a look of utter disdain.

"Wait, pause- Who the hell is Flamme?" Hillary gave the girl next to her a confused glance before averting her eyes back to the headmage. Irene only sighed, taking off her round glasses as she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Rollo Flamme, Noble Bell's rep and School Council President, he was our guide in Fleur City."

Irene was still haunted by that incident in Fleur City. She thought it was a rare occasion to relax after weeks and months of doing errands for the damn crow, but no. Seven knew he was plotting such a devious scheme.

"Indeed, ahem... Since the student body were rather, well, hesitant when speaking about him, so I believe you two are the best option as his guide in the upcoming exchange program." Crowley said joyfully. "Oh, and by the way, Mr Flamme shall stay at Ramshackle Dorm in the short duration of the program, I truly hope the two of you can do your best to accommodate him."

The headmage went on and on with his monologue, ignoring every signs of refusals from Hillary and Irene.

With Irene and her unforgettable experience in Noble Bell College, she was rather afraid of Rollo still. Who knows what could happen during the entire program when he faced NRC's students, especially her upperclassman Malleus. It would be one hell of a meeting, and like hell she wanted to be the one cleaning it up for the nth time.

With Hillary, who wasn't on the list of students on that trip to Fleur City, her impression about Rollo was practically zero. And it wasn't like she could ask Irene or the others since they wouldn't peep a single word. Though perhaps that was enough signs to guess this Flamme guy was anything but a saint.

———————————————————

"I refuse."

Hillary immediately shook her head, cutting off Crowley's ramblings as he squawked in surprise. Not like he could force her to do his biddings anyways.

"I also refuse."

Irene followed her lead and answered as well, seeing how Hillary gave both of them a way out. It wouldn't hurt to work with that troublesome girl if it meant one less baggage on her shoulders.

"Oh no... Why must you two treat me, the kindest and most beloved headmage, that way? What a hurtful thing to hear from the Prefects themselves..."

Hillary and Irene could only watched in exasperation as the headmage blabbed on about his so-called kindness and hard work. However, the headmage was never an easy person to deal with, he gave them an unreadable smile.

"Nevertheless, as a careful teacher I am, I have come prepared! So I am counting on you two, Trein-sensei, Crewel-sensei."

———————————————————

Only after one long session of persuation from two most respected professors on campus, using various tricks and techniques, did Hillary and Irene agree to it, albeit reluctantly. Though it was a golden opportunity for them to upgrade Ramshackle dorm even more. They couldn't let that infuriating headmage win that easily.

"Fine. I promise to lend you some ingredients for your magic research." Crewel shook his head and sighed, looking at Irene with a tired stare.

The little dark pup excelled at everything and destroy every challenges thrown her way, which he was proud of as a Professor. Only that she was so damn stubborn and had a penchant for dark magic.

"Thank you, sir!" Irene smiled as she happily accepted the deal, thinking about all the things she could get from the Potions professor's laboratory.

However, if Irene was already headstrong, Hillary was completely, utterly a hardhead. Trein and Crowley even had to use the library key and give her free reign to it for her to agree.

And so the preparation the student exchange program began...

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2024: Day 18 - Water

Duke Was Never the Same:

The lake was blue. It was very blue, as if someone had plucked the purest sapphire from the deepest mine in Australia and carefully placed it into the place where the Skarloey lake was meant to be. It shimmered in the sun, barely a single ripple in the surface to betray the mirror that the lake seemed to pretend to be. It was gorgeous, and yet Duke couldn’t help but avert his eyes.

Rheneas liked gazing out towards the lake. He claimed it healed something within himself, that it made him feel at harmony with the world. It was one of his favourite topics, when he got the chance to get a word in edgeways in between Duncan’s complaining and Peter Sam’s chirpiness. Rheneas seemed to think it was the water, as if it had bubbled up from the earth’s core purely to soothe his soul and bring peace and serenity to the world around it. And sure, it had done just that – Skarloey Lake was surrounded by the lushest greenery on Sodor, thick oaks and vibrant flowers blanketed the banks of the lake where humans hadn’t cut them away to dot their resorts and villages along its coastline. The lake was their lifeblood, it’s waters a siren luring tourists and locals alike up to gaze upon it.

And yet, Duke could barely look upon the lake without feeling like spitting out all his coals. He knew there was something wrong with that – something truly wrong with a steam engine disliking water. It singled him out in a way that just… wasn’t normal. At least the lake was crystal blue or aqua green, depending on the season. Such colours were bold, natural.

It was the inky blackness of the lake at night that made Duke feel truly ill. The darkness of the water, the way that it rippled just enough to remind him of that day. Duke would do whatever job was asked of him, of course, but he tried his absolute best to avoid being out past dusk. This worked out well for him – he got the morning train, when the rising sun would blind him and made it impossible to see the lake for the glare reflecting off it – and in return he was back before the sun had dipped beyond the horizon.

It wasn’t the lake itself that was the problem, no. It was the water. Duke was fine with winding rivers and rushing rapids – the Rheneas Waterfall was really quite beautiful when Duke saw it – but when water was still, it was wrong. It was uncomfortable, it drew memories up from deep under the surface, ripping them out from where they’d been shoved deep down between his boiler tubes and taking everything with them. Duke knew he needed water to run – he was not like Henry, with such an intense phobia that it blinded him from his duties like the rain blinded engines when they were forced to run in it. He was merely… uncomfortable with it.

A new boat was unveiled on the lake. It was a bright, eye-catching red. Duke instantly hated it – red and water did not mix well within his mind. Nothing good came of the two mixing. Red-painted metal was not meant to touch water, not meant to come into contact with the very substance that would corrode it into nothingness. Water was a powerful force, after all. It rusted and it eroded. It pulled entire embankments down when it so desired; it flooded the valleys and left people with nothing left but broken dreams and sodden houses.

It left Duke with nothing.

The boat was shiny – it was not quite the same colour as James, or even any of the other Skarloey Railway engines. It’s red was entirely different, in a way none of the others recognised. Of course Duke was the only one to make the connection, he was the only one who could have ever known. No one else was alive who could say the same thing, they’d all been buried deep under the earth or torn to pieces by scrappers long, long ago. Duke was the only one left, the only one cursed to bear the burden of knowing, of caring.

Peter Sam and Sir Handel liked the boat way too much. Said it was oddly familiar, in a way they just couldn’t quite place their buffers on. Duke hoped they would never remember – not that they would be able to, he had only really been a story and a small hole in a brick wall to them. They’d not been witness to any of the truth, not been around for what really happened. At one point, Peter Sam almost found out, but Duke had been able to redirect him, protect his young puffling from the ugliness of reality. Sure, Peter Sam had suffered in his life – but at least the images that haunted Duke’s nightmares were confined to him alone. Peter Sam could be free, could live his life without ever knowing.

They all could.

Only Duke remembered.

Only Duke knew.

The red boat was not as waterproof as its owners had intended. When the autumn storms rolled through the mountains, thunderclouds beating their chests and hurling rain and lightning down upon the railway and all it served, the rain got into the red boat. It hadn’t been roped to its jetty properly, and one evening it got loose, floating out into the lake as rain pounded it from all sides, tearing at it and trying to find a weak point.

Duke had been the one to find it, on his early morning train. It had capsized, revealing its hull as it smashed against the craggy rocks and sunk until only a small chunk remained visible. Duke had gone as white as a sheet, his eyes far away from the scene of destruction.

They’d had to hoist the red boat out with a crane. By then, the water had begun its natural process, ripping into the boat and rusting anything not waterproofed properly. It happened so fast, aided by the unnatural number of contaminants in the water from the harsh rains. Or maybe they were only seen by Duke, who wasn’t really seeing the red boat at all, but rather something else far, far away and a good fifty years ago. It was placed in the back of the yards, awaiting some unknown order to repair or dispose of it. Duke could only spare sympathy for the poor pleasure craft – the water had done it in.

Water was all too cruel.

The rains left great muddy puddles everywhere; Duke begged off mine duty, desperate to avoid the murky, dirty waters of the mine.

Desperate to avoid the memories.

Duke managed to get his way, taking trains anywhere but the mine. He did the army-camp trains, leaving loaded vans at the entrance to the formerly abandoned slate quarry and picking up empty ones in their place. One time, he was even directed into the slate quarry when the little WD ‘Beetle’ broke down, steaming into a military camp and being oh so thankful for the huge tarps that were strategically hung to keep as much of the camp as possible dry, directing the rain to distant, out of sight drains.

Duke had never been allowed back inside that camp though, not that he wanted to after he spotted an old steam boiler in the corner of his eye and been punched out of his own mind and into memories he was trying to avoid.

Still, the rains continued. The red boat was taken away, and never returned. Scrapped, or so Skarloey said. Peter Sam held out hope for its return, the optimist he was. Duke couldn’t find it in himself to do the same. Not when the red boat had been in such a sorry state, great gashes torn in it by the rocks and creeping rust beginning to form on its interior, now open to the world due to the way it had been tossed around and ripped apart.

Not when it was too similar to before.

The trains ground to a halt, tourists not wanting to venture far from their hotels and the mine not wanting to attempt any major work in the dangerously wet conditions. The entire railway slowed to only its most essential services, and only the fewest engines possible were called upon to handle the work. Duke was one of them, a fact he privately was thankful for – he couldn’t stand being inside the shed for too long, not when it would only ever remind him of those years spent underground, unable to see the outside world, confined to the darkness without even a hope or a prayer of rescue.

Instead, Duke handled the bulk of traffic along the Skarloey Railway’s ‘main line’ while Rusty handled trackwork and Ivo Hugh the few trains needed at the mine – mostly made of equipment runs and hauling away what amount of the rock had been dug out. It was not much, and Ivo Hugh got enough time in between his runs to help Duke out. Sandbags were supplied to the villages in danger of flooding – not that Duke thought they would. Duke knew flooding, and these were not the right conditions.

And Duke was right. The weather cleared up right before the river could burst its banks, leaving the valley to breathe a collective sigh of relief even as Duke kept his eyes determinedly on the way forwards.

The intervention of the rain had distracted Duke from the time of year, and by the time he remembered, it was already too late.

Duke started seeing him everywhere, in flashes of red that ensnared Duke’s attention and drew him in like a moth to the flame. Duke hated it. Duke hated the rain. Duke hated water. Duke hated knowing the truth and never being able to repeat it. Duke felt his boiler tighten with stress, the steel contracting even as his fire tried vainly to warm him through.

It was a losing battle.

And then finally, Duke simmered over. It was that day, after all. It was fifty years exactly. Duke said nothing as the day progressed, leaving the other engines worried for his health. And then he volunteered to pull the last freight of the day; a line of empty trucks for the mine. The others all were stunned. They couldn’t even find a way to voice their shock – or perhaps that was Duke being unable to hear them. He couldn’t hear anything over the scream that had rattled in his smokebox for fifty years, anything over the words that had haunted him since they’d been uttered.

The trip up was quiet. The afternoon was cooling into night, and the trees had only just finished having all their leaves turn brown and red. Within the week, they’d be barren – but for now it was a festival of colour that broke up the traditionally green landscape. The river babbled along by the line on one side while a few cars rumbled by on the other, racing to get home for the end of the day. Only Duke seemed to know what day it was. Only Duke seemed to care what day it was.

Then again, only Duke knew what happened. Only Duke every truly saw it.

Duke slowed to a stop at the mine, shunting away the trucks. Dirty pools of water littered the lineside, him reflected in each. Of course he was – dirty water was what took him in the end. Duke waited until his driver had gone inside to log their arrival before creeping forwards to the beginning of the mine itself.

There were two entrances to this mine: one was a large vertical shaft with elevator that hurtled down deep into the earth, while the other was a long, twisting tunnel dating back centuries. The tunnel was just slightly too small to fit Duke, but the perfect size to push long lines of trucks in. Once upon a time, horses would have hauled the trucks from deep in the mines, but now a conveyer belt ferried everything up to the surface elsewhere.

Duke gazed down the tunnel, and sighed. Fifty years truly did go by fast, and it was everything he could do not to cry.

“I’m… sorry. Stanley.”

***

Once upon a time, there was a little engine named after His Grace, the Duke of Sodor. The little engine worked hard, and kept his little railway in order – but it was clear to all he needed help.

The engine they brought was named Stanley, not that many used his name. To the manager and his crew, he was simply “Number Two”, a rough-riding scoundrel of an engine who never really did anything but derail. Stanley and Duke knew better – they knew something had gone wrong when Stanley had been regauged to work on the little line.

Despite their worries and pleas, nothing was done and Stanley’s condition deteriorated. Crashes and derailments became more common, and Stanley lashed out at Duke in frustration. He hadn’t meant to – goodness, even Duke knew that! But the manager didn’t, and he didn’t care. To him, Stanley had simply been a nuisance who needed to be dealt with. And when Duke tried to keep them from selling Stanley off, they got creative.

Stanley was locked away behind the shed as a pumping engine, Duke spent a year without a new coat of paint – and then the old engine had a pair of new younglings dumped on him. They were so young, and so eager, and so good, but Duke feared for them. He feared what would happen if they too acted like Stanley or even showed a hint of being incapable.

So he went to Stanley, and the pair made up their story.

It worked – Stuart and Falcon behaved impeccably, and all was peaceful on the little railway. Duke and Stanley breathed a sigh of relief, and life settled into place. Sometimes, when the young engines slept, Duke would creep around the back to spend time chatting with his less fortunate friend. He did his best to hide these visits, both Duke and Stanley afraid of what wrath the manager would bring on them if he discovered that they were fraternising.

And for a time, all seemed well. But fate is not that kind.

The pair were discovered one evening during the war, when the manager came out late one evening to warn them of the increasing workload. His punishment was swift and harsh – he made Duke unearth Stanley in the middle of the night and cart him down the line to the biggest mine on the little railway, where they needed a new pumping engine to look after the water in the deepest parts of the mine.

Duke was forced to watch as Stanley was lowered down, down, deep into the mine where he would be run forever more.

Time continued on. The new pumping engine helped the mine reach a new vein deep underground – however to do so they had to constantly pump away a ruptured spring which gushed water constantly. The river the railway ran alongside grew weaker above where the mine’s outflow pipe dumped gallons of water into its rapids; Duke feared that the spring the miners had hit was really the source of the river, though he was unable to voice his concerns.

Duke would never forget his friend, buried alive in the deepest depths of the mine and unable to call for help. The manager made sure of it too – he put Duke on all the trains heading up to the mine, no matter how busy his schedule was. Duke took it all on without complaint – he could see the direction the wind was blowing. When His Grace returned from the war, Duke would plead his case, try and rescue Stanley and the two young engines he’d come to see as his own and make a run for it – maybe get His Grace to transfer them as far from the little railway and its sadistic manager as possible.

Life was not fair though.

It was a cold morning when Duke arrived to chaos.

“There’s something wrong with the pumping engine!” bellowed a miner, sprinting across the yard. “It’s gonna blow!” Then came the scream. It was guttural, full of agony and completely unlike anything Duke had ever been forced to hear before. It echoed through the mine, stunning the men into silence. A thick cloud of smoke belched out of the tunnels all at once, followed by miners running for their lives while hacking and coughing.

The smoke was blown away by the wind, and Duke peered into the mine. He wanted to venture in, to try and find his friend and save him from what he knew to be coming next.

The water that Stanley had been dutifully pumping flooded the mine in a great gushing wave. It’s force caused the entire yard to tremble, and Duke was forced away from the entrance to the mine in fear of it all collapsing. Duke watched on in horror as the mine flooded right the way to the top, the second pumping machine breaking under the strain. Dirty, sludge-filled water began to trickle out of the mine’s entrances, revealing tools, equipment… and one dirty, grime-ridden nameplate.

Stanley’s nameplate.

Duke felt a sob break free. He couldn’t let his youngsters see this. He couldn’t let them see the damage, see what had become of Stanley.

But worse was to come.

Two weeks later, the water level dropped, the spring flushing back out into the river and draining out of the mine. Duke brought a flatbed up, confused.

“Sir? What’s this for?” he asked the manager carefully. The manager didn’t answer. Instead, he simply nodded to several miners. A large crane winch was lowered into the mine, and attached to something.

The crane heaved with all its might, and the something was lifted up into the dusk light. It was what remained of Stanley. His dusty red paint had been washed clean by the surging water – but that same water had also rusted poor Stanley right through. And then Duke saw it. Stanley’s firebox had been blown clean off when he’d broken down, pipes mangled and sticking up at jarring angles. Poor Stanley’s boiler had exploded from the pressure, the dome flying off and his firebox blowing out. He’d been in agony, and then the water had come rushing in.

The water had drowned him slowly, then rusted away at what had been left.

Duke was forced to drag Stanley’s remains to a scrap merchant’s barge at the harbour; thankfully neither Stuart nor Falcon saw him. He wouldn’t have been able to survive them seeing his face twisted in pure sorrow, sobbing as he brought Stanley’s remains to the harbour and watched as they were taken away.

Duke was never quite the same since. He’d been even more protective of those he had left, running himself into the ground for Stuart and Falcon. He’d watched them get sold off, then watched as the world was reduced to a small shed and nothing more.

Stanley never got the recognition he deserved, the manager saw to that. He embellished the story Duke had told Stuart and Falcon and ensured the Reverend heard it. Stanley’s name was forever tarnished, and Duke was left with the guilt.

Duke wasn’t sure if he would ever stop seeing Stanley’s twisted remains and haunted expression gazing up at him from in the water.

Back to the Master Post

[xuchiya]

this song is one of my favorites and this was played while my team and i were having fun showcasing our prototype on our university week and yeah .. it is meant for my crush so too bad he didn't hear my message bc he wasn't there .. jk

fluff (based on a real life experience)

   as i walked around, smiling and handing students flyers of our work, who were walking around looking at the computer science and engineering inventions or prototypes created by groups of amazing individuals with intellectual minds.

"hey girly!" almost dropping the flyers, carla—one of my good friends tackled me in a hug. i chuckle, wrapping my arms around her small figure, "hey how's the booth? how many signatures did you guys have?"

she puffs an air out, rolling her eyes, "gosh as much as I want to pass, this is hard. we're still at 50 signatures. what 'bout you guys?"

i look over my shoulders to see 2 of my group mates missing while the other 2 explain our work to wandering and curious students. i turn back to her, "not sure to be honest, ron and james are missing so we could still be around 30? not much."

"oh ron and james? they're holding the guest book paper before they leave." my head clicked immediately and laughed quietly, "smart bastards."

"martin saw what they did and is going around the campus too. anyways ..." her voice trailed off. i look at her confused, leaning on to my other hip, holding the flyer close to my chest "what?"

her lips curled up, bumping her hips to mine with a teasing manner, "wooyoung is walking around ... he's checking out all of our prototype." my eyes suddenly widen at the mention of wooyoung.

wooyoung is 4 years ahead of all of us hence the level year he is, which he is now graduating soon. because of the pandemic and short incomes, wooyoung stopped his studies until both of his parents got back up and let him continue his studies, even though he is already a few years behind though his other friends have work or have their own business, they didn't let wooyoung felt that he is out of place just because he is still studying. they knew his story and they understood him well. good friends indeed.

"oi! you're smiling like crazy, you're in love again ah!" she teases, slapping my bicep playfully. i scoff, turning around to walk back to my booth, "stop and I am not—it's just a happy crush."

as soon as i place the flyers down and face her, my two members plus her look at me with 'oh really?'. i pick up some discarded candy wrappers and threw it at them. they laughed at my reddened face, "geez girly if it wasn't for the heat index here in Manila, we would assume it's for wooyoung."

 i turn away from them, grabbing my aqua flask and drinking the ice cold water defending the scorching heat of Manila’s summer. turning the mini fan brought by james, using the back of my hand– i wipe off the sweat trickling down the underside of my chin and jaw. as the days go on, so does the excessive heat, working outside is difficult to do without breaking TOO MUCH sweat.

  “here.” a voice called out, i look up and to my surprise, wooyoung crouched on the same level as i was. i stared at him then to his extended hand where a handkerchief was reaching for me, my brows furrowed, “huh? no no i don’t want to. i mean thank you but it’s like .. i mean personal hygiene?” 

 i rambled without realising it until he chuckled softly, he moved forward– patting the sweat gently. the small distance we had, had my heart flying off the cage of my chest and the heat that was burning people’s skin was now all over my cheeks as wooyoung’s hand, surprisingly soft and gentle, held my sweaty face. his touch sent a jolt through me, and i could’ve sworn his thumb brushed against my cheekbone. a blush crept up my neck, and i stammered, unsure of what to say with our faces so close.

  his touched lingered as he pulled away, his eyes searching mine with intensity that made my breath catch, “do you have an extra hanky?” i cleared my throat, pointing at the handkerchief wrapped around my hair, “no, i was in a hurry because i had to set up our prototype that i forgot to bring my clamp or my hair tie.”

he hums, “have you eaten lunch?” once again i spoke, “no …” he clicks his tongue, standing back up, i followed his figure to which i saw him approach my group mates and spoke to them. my head was all over the place, his touch, his voice and the way he cares for someone. so much luck for that person he will be with, breaking my heart in the process that this is all just a stupid “happy” crush, nothing more and nothing less—nothing to take serious. i sigh, shaking my head and scolding my hopeful heart.

“you’re so blind girly…” my head snapped towards carla, she smacked my head gently–playful way. i pout, “what? I’m not trying to hurt myself by giving myself false hope that he feels the same way.” carla sighs, “he wouldn’t go beyond those boundaries if he doesn’t feel the same way or he wouldn’t do those if “friends” act so much beyond that.”

“carla is right.” carla and i turned to wooyoung with a smile, perfect timing, my stomach growled loudly, shattering the silence. my cheeks burned with shame as carla claps as she cackles beside me. wooyoung raised his eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes, “look’s like it is telling me you did not eat breakfast to.”

i scoff, looking away,”told you i’m in a hurry…” i heard him chuckle before i saw his hand reaching out for my wrist, pulling me up, “huh?”

“i ask for your groups permission to let you eat first then after that they can eat.” i turn to my group mates to see them giving me a thumbs up, then looking back at wooyoung, “are you not busy?” he shakes his head, “i can make space for our first date.”

   And that my folks, is how he had taken me breathless by being effortlessly romantic and being a sweet gentleman.

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑀𝑦 𝑇𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝑚𝑒

A/N: Okay, I got inspired again and this piece is just me, pouring my absolute and eternal love to the favourite place of mine: Mondstadt! This could be read in sagau or just any other normal piece of work but I wrote it with Creator!Reader AU in mind.

Because let's be honest, they welcomed the Traveller albeit a bit hesitantly, with open arms even when they were really busy with Dvalin situation... And I might be sick of writing/reading Mondstadt as one of the nations who tortured Creator!Reader 👉👈

"Mondstadt."

One might be wondering why the Creator was telling the nation of freedom's name right in front of the said nation but the answer was pretty clear to you as you stood before the entrance of the city with Venti next to you, looking pretty surprised himself with his aqua eyes wide open.

And no, it wasn't to punish someone.

Why was it that everyone thought you enjoyed torturing people when all they ever did was... to make you drunk?

"I'm choosing Mondstadt."

Because, ever since your arrival to the Teyvat, though most didn't trust you and rather tried funny things on you... The people of Mondstadt welcomed you with open arms, even if they were facing a crisis at the time which was "magically" solved very soon.

That was also a test on them and their Archon Barbatos, who went by the name Venti to honor a friend he once did and was unaware how badly things could have turned out had they been...

Well, you got the idea.

Now, Barbatos often prided himself to be your favourite which often got on the nerves of other gods and Archons. But he didn't give much thought to it as he floated around you as a little spirit at the time. Besides you wouldn't have specifically asked him to accompany you to everywhere you went if you didn't feel safe and secure, if you didn't like him, right?

"I see..." Zhongli said somberly while standing right outside the Gates of the city, his amber eyes filled with jealousy and anger directed themselves onto the shorter Archon next to you looking both surprised and proud as he held your hand. He had to pull himself together, however much it affected him, as he thightened his hand into a fist and looked at you with unconditional love and undetering loyalty, no matter whose nation you chose to stay.

"May I ask why, Your Grace?" He softly asked you, with no hint of anger or malice directed to you as you shuffled on your feet anxiously but held your head high. You were obviously the Creator, come on!

Venti looked at you with a turn of his head, his usually pouty lips forming a thight line as his hand naturally found yours. He remembered the first time you arrived, all the Winds and waters were singing and there was a feast of falling star in the sky. He remembered how he rushed to where you landed, the Tree of Vennessa, and were trying to get your balance back on your wobbly legs. His heart thumped inside his ribcage violently at your etheral body, the fact that you chose his land, the three that meant the world to him to ascend down...

He could have fallen on his knees in gratitude eit tears flowing down his soft cheeks and round eyes right then and there.

But what stood out the most was... The fact that you were scared.

And that damned fact made him almost collapse beneath your feet and beg for forgiveness, for something he didn't even know he did.

Please don't hurt me, one simple sentence that he never knew that could cause so much pain to him even after all the battles he fought. How could someone dare to hurt you enough to think that your Archons would do the same, as if they couldn't sense and feel you and your warmth they all once basked in?

Mind you Venti, you awkwardly thought after he explained everything, standing there like a shy kid, that you were the Creator and you had golden blood and he felt you, and cried on his knees for you to believe him as you patted his back and let him hug you thightly. The amount of fanfics I read about this situation made me a little paranoid.

But... Was he grinning and nuzzling closer to your neck?

After that, you were more relaxed. By now, everyone in Teyvat knew of who you were and already started to plan for your arrival in their nations. So far, Liyue and Inazuma were the most eager ones to have you while Sumeru and Fontaine just let you decide when and how you wished to come to their nation and you were glad for them giving you this choice.

But... Well, you didn't really want to leave here.

Mondstadt always stood out to you the most, even after seeing every other nation. Of course they were all special, but Mondstadt was... Home.

Every time you would get hurt in the game, you would immediately seek out to go to one of the Statues of Seven in Mondstadt. Every time you just wanted to stroll around, you would go to Starsnitch Cliff or Windrise and just listen to the nature, absolutely beaming and glowing with you there. It was cozy and warm here...

Then you would always pay a quick visit to the Dawn Winery and Wolvendom to see Diluc, his staff and then Razor and his family. Every time you suddenly appeared in the Winery, or insisted on helping Adelinde out even though the woman begged you not to do that since she knew Diluc would have a heart attack, yet you still did it.

After all, you were the one who cleaned your own home in your world.

Which, by the way, he did just as Adelinde thought every time as you pampered him with a sweet ringing laughter and swiped his soft hair away from his flaming hot face, all the while fawning over how soft and amazing it was and wanted to learn his secret at keeping it so tame.

And may You forbid it if you tease him about the color of his face and even kiss his forehead affectionately?

Now, you would have a very shy and flustered young man clinging onto your touches and love, something he was mostly deprived off, and warmth that couldn't even compare the one his body had because of his vision.

And sweet Razor? The clueless boy would always tug on your sleeves and run around with you, showing every hidden place and then stop and make a makeshift camp for you, eating whatever you found or hunted together. Other Archons would have had a stroke at seeing you sitting down on mud, eating and cooking simple food as you exchanged stories with him from your world as he listened intensely with wide eyes and animated voices.

He was especially into the Supernatural creature stories for some reasons.

Scolding Jean because she never takes a day off, telling Lisa that she was exceptionally bright, assuring Kaeya that he was enough... And then getting yourself into trouble with them by pranking, some adventures and even more... These were all the reasons why you loved here.

Because often, a place feels like home because of the people you met there and those who had an Impact on your life.

With a soft sigh and looking back to the lively city that welcomed you, you spoke with a voice that held many memories. Both from your world, days spent with farming and wishing for them and from this time when you were... Their God.

"Because all of you always saw me as something I have never been for the entirity of my time... A God, the Creator, The Divine, Godslayer, The First Who Came... Which is fine, really, having a lot of cool titles are amazing but..." You rambled off without realizing, worried that your words might piss the Archon off. But why would it?

You were his Creator anyways, and even if you weren't, you didn't deserve to feel bad for thinking the way you did, right?

But they both were just looking at you with soft eyes, clear devotion and understanding crystal clear in them as they only basked in your etheral voice that could bring them to their knees just by itself. Though Zhongli was bitter that you didn't choose to stay in his nation, it didn't mean that you would never visit and have some tea with him, right?

But Venti? Oh the shorter Archon was grinning like a cheshire cat as pride, joy and love filled his entire being.

All for you and because of you.

But a part of him was also smug and all knowing. Because who else would you go to? He was the first one to get to you, help you and protect you. You arrived to his city first, you asked help from them first and you blessed his city, his people, he himself first.

If Zhongli, or other Archons didn't get it then, it was their problem.

Not his.

Besides, he needed to have someone to dedicate his love songs to, after all! And what a coincidence it was that all those songs were about you and you had to listen to them as... The muse itself.

Zhongli was able to read all of these, at least most of it, since he once spent a lot of time with the childish yet strong archon. Unaware of the silent battle between these two that was ready to tear mountains apart for you...You remembered all the times you got to spend with Venti under the tree he usually sat down whenever he needed to pick his thoughts and spend some time with himself.

Alone, as only his winds companied him.

But, after you showed up with bright smiles and a promise to take his mind off of things with your stories or your flower crowns you made just for him because it would compliment him and his pretty face well to which he only accepted with a bashful smile and flushed cheeks, these lonely moments when he would think back to the past and all the mistakes he did turned out to be... A session where you both learnt to accept yourselves as the way you were.

Mistakes and all.

And that was why you were so sure of your reasoning as to why you chose them.

"They have seen me as Y/N..."

They stared at you shocked with wide eyes, perhaps even the other Archons who weren't present heard you and you were sure you heard some people falling behind you...

Must be your imagination.

You shrugged your shoulders and stared ahead of yourself with a small smile and slightly squeezed eyes, both a result of the bright sun that seemed like it felt your own happiness.

Though Zhongli seemed like he didn't understand what that sentence meant... Venti did, and his face visibly softened as a small oh left his lips. His hand silently sought yours to squeeze in assurance, to tell you that he knew what you meant and felt, your own eyes turned to look at him with your own shy smile as you accepted his slightly calloused hands.

Which made the Geo Archon seethe at him even more since... He wished to be the one in Venti's shoes, the one who had your love and affection, the one who you held dear to your heart and close to yourself, much like now.

"They know me as the one who always tripped on their own feet, the one who got so flustered because Kaeya was flirting with them but was being genuine and always made sure I was comfortable. And never once did he hold any malicious feeling as he showed the city to me, I really didn't have the heart to tell him that I already knew every nook and crevice..."

You mumbled shyly with a flush, remembering how it was the first time Kaeya had genuinely laughed and smiled wide as you both came to a stop under one of the trees near Springvale to catch your breath and then eat whatever you wished to do in the village, which was ecstatic to have the Creator in their humble village and served you the best they could.

You didn't have to know, but as Kaeya watched you play with children and then look around yourself as if you were searching for something-no, someone- his heart beated faster as his tan skin darkened in embarrasment when he understood that you were looking for him.

He was the one you wanted to have close to you, he was the one who brought that wide smile to your face... He was worthy enough to spend the whole day with you and you never for once judged him, his past or whatever weight that had been forced on his shoulders since he was a young boy.

But rather chose to drag him towards an opening to watch the night sky and point every star to him, telling him giddily that it all reminded you of him and his one visible eye sparkling at what you said

He made you swear to never tell a soul about the way he cried onto your shoulder and landed a kiss on your forehead affectionately while you patted his back, his almost whole body on top of yours as he resembled a cute koala to you. Because one, Venti would kill him. Two, Diluc would kill him. And three... He couldn't hug you anymore :(

The third one was obviously the biggest reason why, as he pouted at you when you laughed hard at his reasoning, all the while assuring him that you would protect him...

Which gave him yet another thing to think about before he went to sleep, a lovesick smile being glued on his face as he chuckled and giggled like a teenager girl all the while hugging his pillow thightly, hoping that perhaps one day... There would be someone, you, for example, to take over that empty spot.

"They saw me as the one who always made sure that those around them were comfortable, happy and well-taken care of even though they were struggling with their inner demons and in exchange, was equally taken care of and pampered by delicous food."

Because you knew all those young men, women and teens had one hell of a traumatic life and since you weren't able to erase that part or rewrite it... You wanted to at least let them know that you were there for them.

As a shoulder to cry on, a friend to listen, an ear for them to vent... Whatever they needed at that moment. And though they might have been skeptical about your true intentions at the beginning, they quickly found solace within your presence, hugs and love, slithering to your light like moths did to a flame.

Even Diluc, who usually wasn't one for " idle chit-chat" often found himself before you, drinking grape juice together as he told you about his frustrations... More specifically about Kaeya, his brother with whom he re-connected thanks to you.

"The one who was befriended the fastest by the little kids, because they obviously had immaculate sense in new games and story telling from other worlds an enjoyed making an adult suffer for their entertainment."

Indeed, you learnt it in the hard way while playing with Klee. Though you had an amused face as you said this out loud, you underestimated her energy and love to... bomb things, at that time. It was your fault really, Albedo and Jean warned you about it and how she got excited whenever she went fish-blastimg with someone she loved, but even when you met her... You just thought they were exaggerating it.

You were wrong.

They could only slap their foreheads in affectionate anger as you ran away from Klee who was holding yet another Dodoco bomb that was about to explode because she changed her mind from catching the fish to showing you how amazing it was.

And for a second, you indulged with her... That is, until you realized the bomb was about to set off.

"Klee, dear, I think we should really let go of that bomb!"

"But... Mr. Dodoco only wants to meet you! (⁠✷⁠‿⁠✷⁠)" you nervously sweated, thinking how to dodge her without hurting her feelings when the bright eyes of the bomb caught your attention.

"Maybe in better circumstan-WATCH OUT!"

*cue you and her covered in ashes, Klee holding onto your hand as she rambled about how amazing it was throughout the whole time back to Mondstadt while you were shaking from the adrenaline*

"Yeah... It was amazing, dear."

"The one who was always there to pick up the broken pieces of those who acted noncholant and cold, but held the warmest hearts ever." You pointedly looked at Diluc at this part, who came over as soon as he heard that the ex-Geo Archon was here to have a talk with you, watching as his pale cheeks were blossomed with an adorable pink. To be seen as such in your eyes, as a warm hearted man rather than the cold and uncaring one he showed himself to be...

It was an honor.

To hear such lovely words leave your lips was an honor.

Because you were all he had left, after he lost his father and cut all ties with his brother who came clean to him... The only constant thing he had was you.

You who came to him after days of being in Mondstadt, knowing that it was the same night of the same day when he had that fight with Kaeya and comforted him with soft words and your presence right before the fireplace as you both sat together, knees touching. Even though his breaths were laboured, chest contrasting painfully...

"I know it was hard for both of you... But you only have each other, is there really no way for you both to talk it out?"

He listened to you and his heart caved in. How couldn't he, when you were quite literally begging him with desperation and tears in your eyes for him to accept Kaeya back?

Besides, thanks to you... He had his family back now, and both Diluc and Kaeya couldn't be any more grateful for it.

"The one who knew what loosing a loved one meant, but never pushed too far into their comforting and instead let them come to you."

Diluc couldn't help but nod aimlessly as tears slightly dampened first his eyes and then cheek. It was true that you only left there with one question only, knowing how sensitive the topic around Kaeya and his father was for Diluc.

But you just... wanted to pay them back for all the good they did for you, every time they gifted you something heartfelt, made you your favourite food, indulged in your hobbies even though they might not be as interested as you were to them.

And all the time they spent to help you, with quite literally everything since everything was new to you.

You smiled at the fond memory of Albedo and Sucrose, who were trying to explain to you one of their experiments excitedly. Well... As excited as Albedo could be, of course.

But even as a scientist and an artist, there was one thing Albedo didn't realize at that time but much later when he thought back to it: Though you seemed like you understood what they were talking about... You were actually pretty clueless at whatever the hell they were telling you about.

You never were good at chemistry, okay? Not your fault that Albedo was so damn smart!

"The one who didn't always understand what was spoken to them, whether it was way to smart for them or the language barrier but had people to patiently teach them... And later forced to eat all together in the city with others."

Albedo smiled as the same memory replayed in his mind too. The way you often were distracted by the fresh snow in his lab or a colorful show of his newest experiments which made you grin widely with amazed eyes, always brought a smile to the usually stoic blonde man. He might not exactly understand the human nature, and even saw you as some kind of experiment to work on so that he could better understand you, he really liked... The idea of having you around.

He didn't even know when he started to seek for your praises, of your presence whenever you would touch his shoulder softly and urge him to take a break and come with you to either play with Klee or have some warm "sahlep", a warm winter drink from your world that you specifically made for him.

To which he would always agree, no matter what, under the shocked, jealous and impressed eyes of... Well, everyone in Mondstadt.

Because the Creator was offering him something They have done, specifically for him and was looking at him expectantly for his reaction as they swayed a sleepy Klee from side to side on their lap after she drunk the hot liquid.

Did he use Klee to have more of your attention? Maybe... Did he make even more experiments just to have you in Dragonspine? Yes... Yes, he did and he had absoultely zero shame for it.

You clasped your hands together after talking so much, your throat starting to hurt from using it so much since that irritating raspy feeling had made itself visible slowly.

The disappointed face Zhongli had broke you, he looked like a kid being rejected of something sweet. Just because you chose Mondstadt, it didn't mean you hated other nations.

They all had other reasons to love about!

Liyue had more of an enigmatic aura with all the rituals, temples and over all Divine Vibe in them but they also had a lot of rules, though you didn't have to apply them to yourself.

You already dealt with enough rules and strictness in your world, really, so though you liked the over all traditional vibe... It wasn't your first choice.

Inazuma was much like Liyue, though once the strictest one with rules and eternity in all over the Teyvat. Fontaine, though you liked hanging out with many people there, seemed... Cold, though Tsaritsa's land was the one considered to be cold because of the constant snow.

Maybe Sumeru could have been your next choice, but you were still pissy about those mages and scribes who treated your precious baby Nahida like that-

But Mondstadt... It had been the first your created, the first one you saw and stepped foot onto. The first to welcome you and teach you everything, the first to give you a family and a whole lot of friends, the first ones to allow you to be yourself...

They were the apple of your eyes.

"The one who is just... Y/N. That's why I'm choosing them... I'm choosing my home, but that doesn't mean I love any of you less." You patted Zhongli's back with a sorry look that said please understand my point as he did and smiled back. Your comfort and happiness was the most important one after all and if you were the happiest here, though he still sent daggers to a certain half-drunk-of-you bard who was looking at your back with literal heart eyes, he thought he could be... Fine with it.

At least, for you.

"I understand, Your Grace... I just hope that you will come to Liyue soon, which will be waiting for your arrival quite eagerly."

And as you reassured again and again that yes, of course you would... You were yet to know that Venti already carried your words to the certain people you talked about and the whole people of Mondstadt with his winds as the city cried out in joy from having your blessing and love.

And who knows... Maybe, they could have your blessings and love through one another way.

In a more... Romantic and free way.

Bonus Part!

"Oh, but I'll visit Liyue soon! Can you prepare Osmanthus-"

"Nooo~ Your Grace, Dandelion Wine is much much better!"

Zhongli: ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ 😒

You: (⁠ʘ⁠ᴗ⁠ʘ⁠✿⁠) 🤭

Venti: ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ 😭🥹

Also Zhongli: "As you wish, Your Grace..." 😎

[skania]

OnK Chapter 152

Soooo as someone who reads this for Akane and for Akane only, I have to say that I'm feeling cautiously optimistic about her role in the upcoming arc.

We're entering the final arc and she has yet to get her second volume cover. If she doesn't get Volume 15 (and I'm praying she doesn't), then that should mean that whatever happens in the upcoming volumes (the final volumes!) will involve her enough to warrant saving her second cover to this late in the game.

We're entering the final arc and she just narrated the lead-up to it.

We're entering the final arc and it's happening right alongside the Second Season, which is the season that will cover most of Akane's important chapters. So if Aka wants to deliver parallels, then there's a lot of potential for Akane to be involved.

...Watch Mengo and Aka stick her on the cover of Volume 15 and call it a day 🤡 But for now, I'll keep praying that we get a Goro/Aqua cover so that Akane is free to be used in better volumes.

I don't have much to say about the chapter this time around. I think we all knew that Aka was getting ready to end the manga, so I for one was happy to see that we're entering the final arc. The sooner we're freed, the better!

It's hard to gauge how long this arc will be, but I'd bet on ~30 chapters plus an Epilogue Arc. Coincidentally, there are exactly 28 weeks left until Christmas. In the manga, they are in November right now and Kana's Graduation (the most important moment in the manga, apparently) will take place on Christmas. So I can totally see Aka wanting his fictional Christmas to happen during, well, Christmas.

If he does it, then we could be getting 3 more volumes worth of content plus 1 volume for the Epilogue. Maybe.

Or maybe he will try to rush it and end it even sooner so that whoever gets hurt gets hurt when the anime adapts Chapters 64 - 65. That would be so rushed even for his standards that it would be wild, but anything is possible when it comes to bad writing lmao

Leaving that aside, look at my girl.

I love her. I love her so much. She has got quite a few reasons to be making this face, IMO.

Ruby was able to find a peaceful way to have her revenge and is thus ready to start healing, and the answer she found is healing those around her, too. Like Gotanda and Kaburagi.

Ai's heart was presumably portrayed in an accurate fashion, which is sure to pull at her hearstrings.

And considering that Aqua was the one who edited the movie, I think it says something about his current disposition that he respected Ruby's take and left the movie as it is, so that may be giving Akane another reason to smile.

Speaking about Gotanda and Kaburagi, I feel like their conversation foreshadows a lot of what this final arc will be dealing with.

Making amends, overcoming regrets and moving towards the future...

... people lying to themselves and "bottling themselves up"...

yet still holding out onto hope, deep down, of being able to fulfill the dreams that they have been denying themselves of all along.

This comment in particularly reminded me so much of Aqua lol

Which takes me to: Aka's writing is so clumsy that his star changing colors every other chapter comes across as flip-flopping 😂

Back when his stars briefly became white only to turn black again, it served a purpose. It showed that while Ruby's words pacified the "Goro" side of him, he hadn't fully healed yet. If Aqua having his white star again is meant to signify that Kana's words managed to pacify the "Aqua" side of him, then... why in the world didn't we see his eyes go white last chapter? 🤡 If Kana is the reason why Aqua seems to have hopes for the future now, why not show it?

For my own sanity, I have to believe something happened in the time-skip. Maybe editing the movie was actually cathartic or something, who knows. I'm not even going to theorize anything about this, because the writing is giving me whiplash lmao so I'm just going to take a moment to point out that while Mengo took the time to give Aqua the haircut he is supposed to have here as per the prologue, she left out the piercing.

And I find that kind of funny, honestly, that this is where Aka seemingly draws the line. With all the stuff that Aka off-panels, Aqua getting a random piercing off-panel wouldn't have been shocking at all 😂

Another thing I found funny:

How many times does Aka need to repeat the same thing? Does he think our attention span is that short? 😭 Not to mention these words feel empty right now because he just went on a data with Kana with zero issue. Apparently, for Aka keeping his distance is only a thing if it involves making sure Aqua interacts with Akane as little as possible lmao

Oh, right!

How could I forget the big twist!

Wake me up when Kamiki interviews Akane 😂

[bumblesimagines]

Imagine:

Becoming a tribute alongside Glimmer

Request: Yes or No

First work of 2024!

~~~

When Scoria Spring's name had been plucked from the bowl of names, Glimmer's hand had been first to shoot up into the air, her lips breaking out into a wide, satisfied grin when District 1's escort, Brioche Wellbreeze, pointed her out amongst the other many female volunteers. Her blonde waves bounced against her shoulders as she headed up the steps and onto the stage, spinning on her heel to greet her classmates and friends with that familiar Glimmer smile. She'd been training all her life for this very moment, for the opportunity to win the Hunger Games and bring more glory to District 1. 

Her eyes scanned the crowd of teenagers and children below, sending a smug yet fleeting smirk in Scoria's direction. Scoria wasn't meant for the spotlight anyway, not with her thin-as-paper lips, her awkwardly lanky figure or the thick mane-like hair she forced into a ponytail each day. No, the spotlight had been created for people like Glimmer. For people who'd grown up being called beautiful, for people who knew how to have others eating out of their hands with just a smile and wink, for those who could actually hit their targets during practice. Someone like Scoria would only make District 1 the laughingstock of this year. 

Brioche reached into the bowl again, rummaging her hand around the slips until she pinched one with her fingers and tugged it out from the bottom. Her bright aqua-colored lips pulled into a smile and she stepped up to the mic, clearing her throat and finally looking down at the name on the paper. "Marvel Thorneworth." She announced. Glimmer recognized the name immediately. How could she not when his brother-

"I volunteer!" The familiar voice startled her enough for the smile on her glossy pink lips to falter, just for a split second before she noticed her expression on the screen and forced another smile on her face. Shit. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this. She was supposed to go to the Capitol and win the Hunger Games so that he would realize how much better than everyone else she was. He wasn't supposed to be her competition, no, he was supposed to be her future. 

Glimmer's stomach withered when Brioche lifted her finger in his direction despite the number of other arms raised and voices shouting, begging to be picked. (Y/N) forced his way through the crowd and Glimmer squeezed her hands together, eyes following him when he made his way up the stage and stood beside Brioche. Where had the boy who'd always mumbled and grumbled about his distaste for the games gone? She craned her neck slightly to peek around Brioche and searched his face until he finally lifted his head, the grimace on his face speaking volumes. Shit.

"May the odds be ever in your favor!" 

[melonminnie]

Hello! I really love your Oshi No Ko x Reader fics! Especially ones with Aqua! Honestly I love the guy, but I can't deny that the man is a major red flag- And that got me thinking, what if:

Yandere!Aquamarine x Reader (who eerily looks like Ai Hoshino)? Plus, she doesn't act anything similar to Ai because all her life she was just compared to the late idol-?

Anywho, keep it up!<333

GET UP 🦢 ‧ ₊ ✧ Aqua x fem! Reader

-TYSM FOR REQUESTING sorry for the late request and I’m sorry if this is bad I didn’t know how to end this on a happy note 😓

Aqua thought it was strange, or a coincidence to be exact, maybe even a gift sent from above, gracing him with a second chance with his favorite idol.

But to say he was disappointed was an understatement. Your personality did not, in fact, match that of his late mother, but your looks did, so that was all he cared about.

If he couldn't have her, he would just make do. That was what he told himself over and over again countless times whenever he saw your face.

Sure, your star-like eyes and purple hair matched hers greatly, and he did try really hard to separate the both of you from each other.

He knew how much you hated it when he asked AI Hoshino-related questions that would unleash your short temper on him, causing him to groan in annoyance every time you yelled curses at his face.

Although Aqua hated your short temper and how your eyes dulled with the mention of the late idol, how they looked exactly like hers before she died, and how he despised that you were the exact opposite of the cheery, always happy, and pretty idol – the idol who knew how to act around people, but you didn't – he couldn't fathom why you were so upset. He had no idea.

All he knew was that he hated it so much, to the point where he wanted you. He wanted you, the AI Hoshino that he imagined would be you.

And even if he had to go through all that trouble, he'd try. He'd try his hardest to make you the closest thing he had to the idol.

"Ai wouldn't act like that," he blurted, staring at you blankly. It had been mere minutes before he said that that you two had been arguing.

Without even thinking, you raised your hand, slapping him across the face, leaving a red mark on his cheek.

"Just… just how many times do I have to explain to you that I'm not her? Whatever she meant to you, I'm not her. I'm my own person. Can't you comprehend that?" She questioned, staring at him, her hands forming into fists, waiting for a response from her boyfriend. But he just sighed as if this wasn't worth his time.

"Aqua, you know I thought you were different, that you wouldn't compare me to a dead woman! But that's all you do, and I hate it. Sometimes I wish I never met you," she broke the silence, tears in her eyes, frowning at his silence.

"Look, Ai—" he didn't get to continue his sentence when he realized his screw up.

"Ai? Ai? Are you being serious with me, Aqua?" she screamed at him through tears before walking away, upset and hurt.

Perhaps Aqua wasn't the perfect person for her.

Hope u enjoyed sorry if this is bad I can’t write a good thing abt aqua

[yuseirra]

I was drawing something about Ruby and how she'd be feeling but while I was jotting things down, it made me think: is it really worth it?

I mean even the writers just brushed it off.

She lost a family member and the story handles it with a bystander going she cried a lot but she overcame it with friends, and started shining, became everyone's idol! She's truly someone sent by a god to bring light to darkness! In a few panels

That's it.

They could have had this same idea going but illustrated it with some depth into it. She lost her TWIN. Someone who she lived with all her life right beside her! And he was someone who she had a very unique and special type of bond with over the span of not just one life but two. But Aqua's presence and significance is just nonexistent in the final chapter. What he meant to Ruby was huge and it's not illustrated very well because Ruby doesn't get to speak for herself in the last chapter.

If that's what the authors deem is for the best, then what is the point of me trying to make it out? They clearly don't want to share it so much in depth even when they have the skills to, so this is what they want to do with their work and handle Ruby. I think this is coined this way to portray the nature of how idols "appear" as. Ruby isn't... Handled like a human being in the last chapter or the past several chapters actually. I'm not even sure if Aqua understood her well because he viewed her very idealistically the way he described her. Yeah.. Ruby did turn out the way Aqua described her as but that's how she appears outwardly. It's her shell. So sending out love is a role of hers now huh? But where is her personality as a person? She gives out love to people but... That can be achieved through anyone who has those "eyes" or "talent" isn't it? It actually doesn't have to be Ruby or herself as a person if it's about the eyes, it's more about the ability? You can put out a pretty doll out there and if it's charming enough, wouldn't it achieve the same effect?

I liked the movie arc a lot because it showed Ai was a human being but people wished her to be a cute, perfect and a convenient doll that could love anyone. Isn't THAT exactly what Ruby's become in the end? I didn't really take Ruby to be that way but the ending makes it seems like she's worshipped for a shell she's developed. It doesn't feel genuine. And I think that's intentional so why... What point does the author want to make about this industry~~~ Ai sends out a way better message in terms of what an idol goes through!!! This is so unfair to Ruby!!!

Everything Kamiki said was so right I just. Everything played out the way he said it would. People don't see Ruby as a person, the same way it was like for Ai. Ai wanted her truth to be out there though!! Ruby isn't following her mom's legacy~~~ I went oh he had insight!! He knew what was going to happen to his daughter!! He saw the same thing happen to Ai of course he would have. Aqua should have stayed beside Ruby and cheered her on. There is no point. On everything. Kamiki SAID he should go watch Ruby's journey as an idol? Doesn't that mean!!! He'd have let her live through it!! Dunk him later then!! Or is it that Aqua wouldn't be able to find him later? Honestly I really think!! The guy tried to bring back Ai, that was what he was gonna do- considering mephisto and fatal's lyric I feel the guy was going to die anyway even without Aqua having taken those measures??? He doesn't seem like he had a will to live ANYWAY but sure, Aqua sure. take your dear life along with him. This isn't explained.

It does make me think: why should I care about a work the author has dropped...how can this writing be something that isn't ditched. Let's face it, it is. That's the sad part. If I could feel the author did their best within the abilities they have, I'd still feel it's loved. But I'm not sure if they care for their own work?;; what's the point on trying to work with something the writers themselves don't care for?; I want to be convinced they do. But it's pretty hard to believe so. You have to love what you create or have some sort of passion in it to get it across to people. I couldn't really feel it in the end. So despite the art being very good.. I can't feel so much about it and it doesn't really give out a better message than it already did in the beginning of the series either. That's quite saddening. I hope they don't do something like this ever again in the pieces they write in the future, I'm not going to follow them because it's too risky to follow an artist who does this about their piece, regardless of how talented they are.

[oshinohoshi]

So I'm thinking about my rather silly better end to Oshi no Ko and how I made Hikaru kill himself. I went this route for a few reasons:

- I was working off what Aka gave us about him trying to hurt Ruby

- Just taking him to jail at that point felt pretty anticlimactic

- I wanted to give Hikaru a proper sendoff where he was able to feel Ai's presence before death

- I was thinking of what he meant about doing something for Ai, like he said, and the way he didn't seem to care much for his own life

But what I really wanted for my sad boy serial killer was a relatively good end. If we scrap everything about him being a manipulative killer and go with the hypothesis that he was only involved in Yura's death, then his 154 characterization stays intact.

I was hoping that on the cliff with Aqua he was simply posturing and taking the blame for Aqua's accusations about Ruby. If he already knew he was responsible for one death, felt guilty for how he accidentally got Ai killed, as well as if he felt that Aqua was not going to listen to reason, then he could have decided to play into being the villain. Or there could have been some truth to not protecting Ruby. For instance, if he suspected Nino's intentions but didn't make enough of an effort to stop her.

Perhaps at that point, he may have tried to jump and Aqua would stop him.

Whatever the case plotwise, I was truly hoping for him to be forgiven in the end. Not for Yura's death, which he would need to go to jail for, but as a person who is not irredeemable. I think there's a difference between forgiveness and redemption. Hikaru didn't need to be redeemed in order for the violence to stop with him.

And in putting down his revenge, Aqua may have realized that he, himself, was never at fault for not being able to save Ai.

With an end like this, Ai's wish would have been fulfilled, Hikaru would have been brought to justice, and nobody needed to die.

Is that too cheesy? I dunno, maybe. But I really wanted Ai to get her wish for Hikaru and for her kids to grow up happy and healthy. Unfortunately, it was an impossible dream.