#and the others always thought that was odd but hey. whatever. until some strange *thing* started showing up

[fairsweetlonging]

truth serum / system reveal au where shen qingqiu gets hit with an uncloaking spell that reveals the system in the reflection of his eyes every time it pops up.

during one of his missions, in the treasure hoard of some dragon-like creature, he finds a golden, oval shaped hand mirror, its gaudy style more victorian based than anything (airplane you hack!), that doesn't seem to do anything when he looks into it. but when he does, it reveals the system's screen in his eyes.

he doesn't notice this, of course, because he can't see it, and the system, surprisingly, stays quiet.

the peak lords think he's cursed.

maybe mu qingfang is the first to notice, during the mandatory post mission check-up, when shen qingqiu is scrolling through his most recently accumulated points and mu qingfang can see the strange vividly-blue lines reflected in his pupils. it's gone when shen qingqiu blinks, like it was nothing but a trick of the light.

it comes out when yue qingyuan is visiting and, just as he's done laying out the plans for a new mission, shen qingqiu's eyes glaze over and a bright blue box takes over the whole of his iris. shen qingqiu goes quiet; the thing in his eyes moves, shifts, pulses for a second, like static worms crawling all over his pupils. then he blinks, and it's gone, and shen qingqiu accepts the mission that yue qingyuan was almost sure he would decline.

maybe there is an intervention, when the peak lords corner shen qingqiu at qian cao peak and try to figure out what's wrong, subjecting him to all kinds of treatments and curse-finding spells that turn up empty, they can't find anything.

of course, the silencing threat is still very much up and running. at first shen qingqiu was kind of confused by the whole ordeal, but when the peak lords start describing a "strange blue box", he realizes, with sickening suddenty, that they're describing the system. and he can't say anything.

this only makes everything worse, because their fellow peak lord now keeps evading every question and acts like he doesn't understand. liu qingge points right at his face and asks, "that blue box, what is it?" and shen qingqiu laughs nervously and starts talking about how bright the weather is and surely it's the sky and nothing to worry about!

even worse, during the intervention the system thought it was a good idea to start talking to him, so now even the peak lords who hadn't seen it and who might have been persuaded by light tricks and reflections, get a first row view that no, that definitely isn't a trick of the light.

they try to do the whole thing of "are you in danger, blink twice" but shen qingqiu can't even do that because it's still a direct admittance!

maybe eventually he starts saying vague confirmations that don't actually confirm anything, like "this master hears what you're saying", or maybe he goes with a classic "this master can neither confirm nor deny that." but the system starts warning him for that too and eventually he stops saying anything, which worries the others more.

luckily mu qingfang catches on that every time they ask a direct question about the box or shen qingqiu says anything vaguely confirming, it appears. it doesn't appear when they ask about curses or demons, so it must not see that as a threat.

for a little extra angst: maybe the peak lords keep pressuring him for answers, and at some point shen qingqiu gets fed up and snaps out something like, "why don't you understand that i'm not allowed to answer that!" the system counts this as a direct admittance, threatening it's existence. so it punishes. shen qingqiu has a qi deviation so bad it lasts two weeks and takes two people every day to cleanse his meridians. the system doesn't appear in that time. it doesn't appear for a long while after that, either. the peak lords stop asking, mainly because shen qingqiu will instantly leave the room if they do. they don't stop searching for a cure, though.

shang qinghua returns from a business trip and catches on the second someone mentions a blue box and forced silencing.

[madameminor]

In More Ways Than One, Part 9 - Bad Batch x F!Reader - Wrecked

Summary: Everything seems perfect the morning after - until Wrecker starts acting strange.

Tags: 18+ smutty mcsmutterson, porn with plot, basically, all the good stuff

Warnings: Dom drop, aftercare, breeding kink, shiny's being jerks.

Notes: I'm experimenting writing more with less, since sometimes I get too caught up in the words - I may or may not like it. Regardless, please enjoy Wrecker being a sweet boy.

Word Count: 5k+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 5.5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10

The bliss of a truly rested sleep is really second to none. Waking slowly from the comforting embrace of peace, you feel the necessary rest down to your soul.

That is - until you shift to stretch - and feel the full effects of yesterdays ‘punishments’.

Your stretching squeal becomes a mournful moan as you ache in places you’ve never ached before - and are met with a soft chuckle and a gentle hand on your cheek.

“Mmhmm. The lesson continues,” Crosshair smirks, kissing your nose from where he stands by his bed. You squint open your eyes and pout at him before turning your back to him, showing your disdain for his teasing. He chuckles again and gently spanks you, making you turn to pout at him again as he scoots in behind you. 

“Don’t be like that. It’s your own fault anyway,” he murmurs into your neck, kissing gently as his hand gently rubs over your hip, your thigh. 

“Hmph,” you pout away from him, too sleepy to think of a comeback.

He lightly nips along where Hunter bit you the night before, making you gasp at the light pull of memory. 

“Nnnn Crosshair, don’t get me going this early I’m so SORE.”

He smirks in your ear. “You want to stay here then?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Hmph, alright. We’re going to the mess for whatever serves as breakfast out here. You want us to bring you back something?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod in affirmation, eyes still closed, voice sleepy. “Y’s please.”

Another chuckle by your ear. “Its a good thing you’re cute.”

“M’super cute.”

“You are. We’ll be back.”

The rest is like hazy background noise as you drift in the peaceful stream of ‘sleepy’.

“So she is staying?” Tech, quietly.

“Mmhmm.” The sound of a toothpick between teeth. 

“Hmph. Can’t say I’m surprised.” Hunter, smirking. Various armors being put on. Echo’s chuckle, the sound of blasters finding holsters, its all starting to fade as you slip back into-

“Wrecker.”

Hunter’s voice is just above a whisper.

 “Hey Wrecker,” a little louder, trying not to disturb you, but obviously working to get attention. “Come on, we’re headed to the mess. Grub time.”

You don’t hear any movement, just a voice, facing towards a wall - just above a whisper, and very, very guilty.

“U-uh you guys go ahead, I-I’m not really hungry.”

Everything stops.

You’re up and by his bed before you know you’ve thought about it, pulling his shoulder towards you to make him look up, the scanner you whisked from your pack blinking readings as you draw it down his face.

He freezes like a porg in headlights as you finish your scan. You set it down in confusion, hand to his forehead. 

Hunter is just over your shoulder.

“What’s wrong with him?”

You scan again for anything, anything. “His vitals are fine. There’s no fever.”

“None of the side effects from the inoculations mentioned lack of appetite?” Tech muses quietly.

“Even if it did, Wrecker always has an appetite. He defies the odds,” Echo says firmly.

A small spark of worry in your chest has you on your feet. “I’ll take him to the infirmary and do some more tests to see if it’s anything -”

A hand grabs your wrist as you turn to get dressed. You look to where Wrecker waits, his eyes panicked instead of surprised.

“NO, no, I’m fine, really. Just… just not hungry, ok? I don’t need to… uh, go with them to the mess.” He looks down and away from his brothers.

Oh.

You almost kick yourself.

OH.

You turn to the others, “Alright my dears, I’ll take it from here. Out.” You shoo them towards the door, ignoring the fact that you’re giving orders while completely naked.

Hunter raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure-”

“BIP bip bip bip, go. Out. Bring back food for two, please. Don’t hurry back.”

The door whisks closed so fast it almost catches Echo’s kama.

You turn back to Wrecker, sitting on the bed beside him. “They’ve gone, honey.”

He looks over at you, briefly meeting your eyes before looking off to the side- he opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. His eyes meet yours again, pleading for help with whatever he needs to say. Your heart melts a bit for him - your gentle giant, in unknown territory. You scoot closer to him, putting your head to his, your hand on his cheek.

“I’m right here, I’m listening. Take your time.”

He sighs in relief, closing his eyes and breathing with you. He wraps his arms around you and rolls onto his side, pulling you over him so you’re the closest to the bulk head. He buries his face in your neck - aw, he’s hiding. You stroke his bald head to soothe him, letting him find the words he needs.

You don’t have to wait long. “Are you….ok?” 

Something in his tone sets off your mental alarm bells.

“I’m wonderful. A little sore, but its a good sore. Why, honey?”

“I didn’t… hurt you, right? You aren’t… mad at me?”

…shit.

“Oh darling, no,” you say, fully turning to face him, your hand cupping his face. He leans into it, still avoiding your eyes. “No no no. I’m so grateful to you. I loved last night. I feel so lucky that all of you gave to me like that. I’m the happiest woman alive this morning.”

He finally looks up at you, still looking guilty. “Really?” 

“Yes yes yes, a thousand times yes,” you say quietly, smiling. “All the things we did last night were things I’d talked to Crosshair and Hunter about enjoying - I may have seemed like I was upset, but it's what I wanted.”

“So I’m… I’m not a bad person for liking it?”

“No,” you say firmly, still staying quiet so it doesn’t sound like a reprimand. “I like those things being done to me. And you can like doing those things to me because I’m saying yes. If you liked those things and I was screaming my safe word, that would not be ok, but that’s what a safe word is for - to tell you when I’m not ok.”

“I… w’ll, I know that. But I still feel like what I did was wrong. I don’t understand, I liked it at the time, but… I started thinking about it, and now…Whats wrong with me?”

“Nothing, babe, nothing at all. This happens sometimes, and it means you care about me, and you would never hurt me if I asked you to stop. This proves you’re a good person, not a bad one. This happens, a lot of people in your position can feel like this after they do some of what we did last night. It even has a name. It’s called ‘dom drop’.”

“It… it is?” Understanding and relief start to show on his face. You start to breathe again.

“Mmhmm.”

He’s relaxing, slowly, but steadily. “Did the others feel like this?”

You trace along his face scar. “I don’t know. They may have at some point, either last night or before, but if this isn’t their first time they probably have ways to care for themselves.” He nods, thinking. You stroke the side of his face, being sure to meet his eyes. “Babe, I’m sorry. There are things to watch out for, and I didn’t think of you in the moment at all. It was your first time, I should have checked in with you. I’m so sorry, and I’ll work to communicate with you so much more, starting right now.”

He looks at you, still hesitant, but nods before burying his head into your shoulder again.

You mentally kick yourself, feeling the gravity of your responsibility settle on you - this is the second time you left him in the dust. If you were going to make this work with all five of them, you needed to up your game - to make sure you took care of those who needed you at those junctures. And Wrecker needed you to pay more attention to guiding him - he was new to all of this.

No use beating yourself up. You didn’t know who would need what before, but now you do.

Time to make it right.

You kiss his head, willing his worries away. “What do you need right now, darling? Snuggles? Kisses? Closeness?” He nods, snuggling closer. You smile, settling into the security of his strength around you.

The silence is peaceful. You feel him breathing, heart slowing. You stroke his head, trailing kisses every few strokes. You feel him relax against you, tension releasing… but there’s still a sadness. Something isn’t quite right yet. You let your mind wander over what past lovers have liked, have asked for in their care.

 “Do you want to hear about what I liked last night?”

He looks up again in surprise - and nods. Good.

You smile, settling into him and the pillow while thinking back. “Hmm…I liked having you in my mouth while the other two were inside me.” He grins. 

You continue. “I liked when you spanked me - it felt so good to have you so big in me and spanking me at the same time. I want to do that again, if you do.” His eyes spark in interest, and you can feel something near your pelvis firm. 

Heeheehee.

“I like hearing you lose yourself and go hard with me - using me to cum like that. I liked how you didn’t let me cum, but you really wanted to. I always love feeling you cum inside of me, and what you said about wanting to push so far inside of me was SO hot.”

He gets bashful again. Interesting. “Yeah?”

You prop yourself up on one elbow, fingers tracing along his shoulders. “What did you like about last night?”

He swallows. “How hot you looked tied up like that. It was really… kriffing hot.”

You giggle in response. He smiles.

“When you choked on me because Echo fucked you so hard. That felt so good.”

“Oooo, I remember that. The look on your face was very attractive.”

He smiles. “I’m glad the boys made me wait, cause I really wanted to feel you cum, but then watching you cum so hard was really hot.” 

He pauses, then glances away while finding the words, rubbing the back of his neck.

“A-Also, uh… there was…uh… there was a moment where I thought something kind of weird, but it was really hot to think about?”

“OOooo, tell me,” you smile, shifting closer.

He keeps rubbing the back of his head. “It…um…”

He’s so kriffing cute. “I’m listening, darling, I want to hear about all the things that you like.”

He swallows, still not meeting your eyes. “I uh… I wanted to cum so hard in you that you… got pregnant.”

Your core tenses in excitement. Oh, say it isn’t so. “Oh really?”

“Y-yeah…” he looks back at you, words suddenly spilling out in a rush. “I’d never do that, I know you have, like, that thing that stops you from having babies, but the thought just popped into my head and it was really hot at the time and-”

Ooooh the Gods are good. “I think so, too.”

He blinks. “You do? It’s not weird?”

Your smile is coy. “No, it's something a fair amount of people like. Including me, at times.”

He gulps again - you feel the firm grow firmer. His voice sounds mildly strained. “But you can’t have babies right now.”

“That’s true,” you flirt, a finger tracing along his collar bone, “but we can pretend. You can fill me up so full and imagine what I look like when I have your baby growing in me. A cute little wrecking ball.”

Firmer still. You can feel his heart thumping in his chest. “Babe… thats…”

You smile, leaning in closer to him. “Do you want to try now? Want to try and cum in me so hard that you get me pregnant?”

He reflexively grips your hips, where his hand rests, bucking involuntarily. “Kriff yeah…"

His fingers trail down, pulling your leg up over his hip before moving behind your leg to trace over your slit, groaning as his fingers come away wet and sticky.

“Babe…”

Your breath catches at the need in his eyes. “See how much I like the idea?”

He groans again, bucking up, fingers eagerly returning to push inside your entrance.

You wince at the sudden intrusion. “Gently, love, You all worked me over really well last night.”

He lightens up immediately. He slides one finger inside your slippery slit, thick and firm, curling against your walls, stroking your g-spot delicately. You clench around him, savoring the feeling of his loving care in your pleasure. He groans as he pulls his finger out again.

“FUCK babe… I’m sliding in so easily.” He pumps again, watching your face fastidiously. “Can you… take another?”

“Yes, oh yes.” Your hips buck, begging for more of him inside of you, thoughts running through your head of what you’re about to do. You start to ride his fingers while he moves inside you, meeting each other with each thrust. You hold behind his neck for support, eyes meeting his, begging him not to stop.

That sets something off in him, moving forward to latch his mouth onto where neck meets shoulder. “Kriff, that’s right mesh’la, ride my fingers. Want you so ready to take my cock. You want it so bad, don’t you?”

You whimper out a cry, riding his fingers as he pumps them into you. “Can’t wait to feel you fill me…”

He involuntarily bucks against your leg. “Fuck I’m going to cum so far into you. Can’t wait to fill you up till you’re leaking, make sure it takes.”

Fuck it’s so hot to hear him say that. “O-One more, Wrecker, I c-can take another.”

He slides in a third finger, finally giving you the same girth as he is, sliding himself down to suck pulses into your clit. 

“WRECker…” Your eyes fall back into your head, your head falls back between your propped arms, and you fuck along him for all your worth, riding the wave of the pleasure cresting from his pulses. 

“Oh babe I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

“That’s right babe, cum for me, cum for me real good.” 

You feel yourself start to seize, riding his tongue as he pushes you through, eagerly licking up everything you’re releasing like its frickin’ candy.

You’re left panting - but still craving him. You whine a bit, bucking as he pulls his fingers away. You want so much more. You want what he said he’d give you.

Wrecker starts running your slick on his fingers over his hard length, already weeping precum. He bites back a groan, looking down at you with need, with… worry? Aww, the darling is checking in. Your heart swells.

“Babe, can I…”

You reach up to cup his cheek.“Yes, please yes. But kiss me when you push in? I’m afraid I’ll moan too loud…”

He kisses you deeply, sliding in so gently, both of you swallowing the other’s groans. HIs head falls to your chest as he breathes through the moment. 

“So kriffing tight. Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight.”

“It's cause I want your cum, babe. I want it so bad.”

He groans, hips stuttering into yours, making you gasp, eyes rolling back.

“Can’t wait to give it to you,” he says, slowly starting to fuck into you. He puts his head to yours, one hand coming up to cup the side of your face. “Fill you up so good with my cum. Want to get you so big for me, kiss your belly, talk to our strong baby while you bounce on my cock. Tell them how beautiful their mom is.”

“Oh Wrecker…”Your voice comes out a moan, unable to think around his giant cock fucking into you.

His head falls to your shoulder, hips moving faster. “NNNnn I’m gonna cum, mesh’la. You ready for me? You ready for me to fill you up?”

You can barely form a thought, but the words just flow out of you. “Yes Wrecker, please. Please. Pump your cum inside me, honey, I want it so bad.”

He grips under your shoulder, holds your thigh against his hip, driving his full length inside your throbbing hole. “KRIFF. Take it then. Take it all. Nnn... NNN.”

He growls a groan as his hips stutter, releasing his seed what seems like an unnatural amount of times deep inside you, using his leverage to push in as far as he can.

He doesn’t stop, even as you feel him start to soften.

He groans. “Fuck, babe. FUCK. I want to keep going so bad, I don’t want to stop I’m still so horny.” 

You’re so on fire with need that you don’t skip a beat.“Then come here, big boy, and let me help you with that.”

He moves up the bed, offering you his slowly softening cock. Karking hell, you’re so hungry and desperate for more, you immediately take him as far as you can with one swift move. He cries out a swear - he’s so sensitive, but he wants it so bad, SO BAD. He fucks your mouth gently, watching his cock disappear down your throat. 

“Fuck, babe. That’s it. Just like that, getting me so hard again. I wanna fill you up more. So much more. Gonna make you cum this time too, so you strangle all my cum out of my cock, fill you up so good.”

You look up at him, watching him take you in, his eyes transfixed where your lips wrap around his cock.

“NNnnn could cum down your throat, fill you up from both ends,” he murmurs, almost to himself. You moan around him at the thought, making his hips stutter with a groan. “You’d like that, huh?”

You purposefully moan a yes, smirking internally as his eyes roll back.

“B-But I wanna make you cum too, feel you cum around my cock. Kriff, fuck I need to feel you cum on my cock.” He pulls out and away, clamping around the base for a moment while he breathes. As you sit up, wiping spit from your mouth, he picks you up and places you so your head is towards the other end of the bed, hooking your legs up with his elbows. He pushes into you hungrily, ravenous to feel you around him again, moaning along with your feverish cry. He starts to slowly fuck into you.

“WRECKer! Oh honey you feel so good.” You bring your hand down to play with your clit. “Wanna cum. Wanna cum while you’re fucking a baby into me.”

His hips speed up, spurred on by your rapturous cries. “That’s right mesh’la. Kriff. Milk me dry. Gonna be so full I put TWO babies in there. Gonna see you get so big. So big cause of me…”

Stars, you can FEEL how aroused he is, he’s so hard, so needy in his thrusts. “I’m so close, Wrecker, I’m so close. Fill me up while I cum for you. Give it to me, please.”

“Whatever you want, babe, anything you want.” His voice is desperate, his eyes feverish with need and arousal. “Fuck I’m gonna cum again. Take it all. Cum for me while you take it all. Kriff, kriff, KRIFF.”

You swear he pushes in so far he’s in your cervix. You feel each spurt of his spend coat your walls, fill your womb, leaving you sated and full, wishing, on some level, that this was real.

Wrecker falls to one elbow, panting, still propping himself up so as not to crush you, still shivering every few seconds as his orgasm racks him anew.

“B…Babe… that was… that was so…”

You put your head to his, your hand to his cheek, panting from the intensity of your orgasm. You feel your breath slow, leaning in and kissing him slowly, sensually, bringing him down on top of you. Your hands rove over his bald head, feeling the smooth skin under your fingertips. You pull back after a moment, laying back to look up at him while your fingers continue along his scar.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” He sighs in relief, head dropping to your shoulder as you giggle. “I’m gonna pull out, ok?”

“Ok.” You gasp a little as he gently pulls out, leaving you emptier than you were - but not by much. He turns towards the bathroom, presumably to get a towel - you gently grab his hand before he can.

“Wait. Don’t you want to see how full I am first?” You can’t help the mischievous smile dancing across your face.

He looks back at you, confused.

“Look,” you smile, laying back along the sheets, spreading your legs, hand trailing down to your lower lips - and parting them.

His widening eyes tell you he’s watching his seed brimming at your entrance, slowly trickling out of you. You clench, partly to emphasize the flow, partly because its so hot, watching him watch you like this.

He gulps, eyes glued to your pussy. “Babe, can I… do somethin’?”

“Yes,” you lilt, pulling your fingers away from your entrance.

He slides his thumb carefully over your slit, gathering some of the slick between your thighs. Eyes alight, he leans over you - and holds his thumb up to your lips. 

You smile at him, propping yourself up on your elbows, and without taking your eyes from his, you take his thumb into your mouth, tasting your combined juices, sucking him clean.

“You’re gonna get me hard again,” he groans, almost reluctantly.

You release his thumb with a smile.

“Good,” you purr, nuzzling against his hand, “because I think you promised to cum down my throat next? ‘Fill me up from both sides’?”

You see the shiver run through him.

“Kriff, babe. You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans - right before climbing back on to his bed. 

__________________________________________________________________________

A half hour later finds Wrecker between your thighs with a damp cloth, cleaning up the substantial mess he’s made after cumming twice more. He can’t bring himself to look, he really shouldn’t look, he’ll just get going again - and hes not sure he could take another round before his brothers come back, and they’d been nice enough to leave them alone this long. There would be - he shivers - more chances another time.

Besides, he wanted to hold you after that. 

Throwing the rag toward the end of his bed, he finds you snuggling extra close into his chest, filling him with warmth as he wraps his arms around you. Yeah, this was what he wanted.

“Mmmmm… that was everything.” You look up at him. “How are you, babe? How did you like that?”

“Great,” he grins - before his face falls into uncertainty. “Though I, uh, didn’t expect that to happen, you know…”

“I know, but I just loved the idea soooo much…” you nuzzle against his nose, his grin returning. Kriff, you made him feel like a cadet again, getting his first detonator. “Did that feel like what you needed?”

“Uh…” he thinks for a moment, trying to remember where he started. “Yeah… I think I… I just wanted to know you weren’t mad, or hurt or… somethin’ else. I liked feeling… like feeling close to you.” He (very) lightly squeezes you. “I like this.”

“Then lets do this if we try something intense like we did last night. I’ll make sure to come be close to you, and tell you how happy I am. Yes?”

He kisses the top of your head, feeling a knot unclench in his chest. “Yeah. I like the sound of that.”

He���s silent for a moment, taking it all in, thinking about last night, this morning, just now… comparing it to every other moment of comfort in his life. Were there any?

He looks down to where you’re snuggled against him. “Babe?”

He can feel your answering hum through his chest. “Hm?”

“Thanks… for taking care of me.”

You look up at him with those beautiful eyes and beautiful smile, the greatest gifts of all.

“Of course, honey,” you say quietly, kissing his chin. “It’s my pleasure.”

________________________________________________________________________

“Do you ever think about it? Having kids?”

The question seemed to come out of nowhere - you had spent the time waiting for the squad cuddling and talking about what other things you wanted to try together or with the others, making sure to listen for his wants and needs. A comfortable silence followed, each of you breathing in the other, until…

“Sometimes. Not a lot, since there’s no call for it right now, but I’ve thought about it.” You look up at him. “Why? Have you?”

“W’ll. Not, uh… not til now. But I… I really liked the idea of having a kid with you.” He won’t meet your eyes, he’s so bashful. Such a sweetheart. “Never thought of anything other than hanging with my brothers, but the thought was kinda… I dunno, nice.”

You smile up at him and kiss his nose, about to answer - and are suddenly overtaken by a huge yawn, your body relaxing into the warmth surrounding you. 

He grins. “Tired, huh?”

You grimace in embarrassment as you finish your yawn. “Mmm… yes. You aren’t?”

“Naw, too hungry. You go ahead and sleep, mesh’la.” He strokes your head and kisses your crown. “I’ll take care of you.”

You can’t help but smile into his chest, enjoying the warmth blooming in yours, letting your heavy eyelids close. “Wrecker…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy.” You breathe him in and sigh out relief.

His hands pause midstroke, but his body stays relaxed.

“... me too, babe.” You can hear the beaming smile in his voice. “I’m really happy too.” He continues his stroking, gentle fingers lulling you to sleep…

-until the door slides open.

“Are you two done?”

Crosshair’s slithery voice is as sardonic as ever. You smirk, your eyes staying closed.

You feel a shift next to you as Wrecker twists to whisper over his shoulder. “Shhhh - yup. Feelin’ much better.”

“Good.” Tech’s voice is, of course, matter of fact, even while quiet. “We have brought food. There is a fair amount-”

“AlRIGHT.” Wrecker whispers in joy, jumps up out of bed, doubles back to pull the blankets over you and kiss you on the head, making you giggle, then heads to the table. “I’m STARVING!”

Hunter’s whisper is sharp. “You di’kut, put on some clothes before you eat.”

You slip off into sleep with a smile, listening to your boys doing what they do best, your heart full of gratitude for every single one.

Yours to care for, as long as you have them.

__________________________________________________________________________

Earlier - The Mess Hall

“So where’s your medic?”

The four batchers look to the end of their table - where two clones with freshly painted armor stand, sneering. 

Tech adjusts his goggles, looking them up and down. “Tending to one of our teammates. He was not feeling well this morning, potentially due to our inoculations yesterday.”

“Why does it matter?” Crosshair’s hiss is sharp, but not quite dangerous. Yet.

The two smirk at each other before looking back to them. 

“Does she happen to be doing that on her back?” asks the one on the left with a mean grin.

All of their heads whip around, Crosshair, Tech, and Hunter tensed. Hunter’s eyes flash in warning. “Care to say that again, trooper?”

The left chuckles. “I think you heard me.”

The right elbows the left, indicating the group with his head. “Probably is. Probably needs it, if she was sniffing around our boys yesterday.” He looks back to the seething squad. “What's the matter? Your squad can’t keep one woman satisfied?”

“That’s enough.”

Echo stands where he is, staring down the other two. In this moment, the others can see his power shine through - this man was an ARC trooper, decorated for his many exemplary missions, a survivor from behind enemy lines, and back out in the field for brothers and Republic. 

And he was irritated.

“I don’t know why you weren’t taught any manners back on Kamino. Maybe you were too distracted by your own insecurities that day.”

The two clones stiffen, slowly bristling- but Echo isn’t done.

“It doesn’t kriffing matter what she does in her private life,” he continues, eyes daring them to interrupt him. “What matters is she’s a trooper, like all of us. She puts her life on the line; fights the same battles we do, without enhanced abilities. She shows up, she works hard, and she cares for a bunch of clones like us, treats us like people,” He punches the table for emphasis, making the regs jump into a defensive stance, “so what else do you really need to know about her?”

The two regs stand, stunned, glancing at each other to think of a comeback- but there isn’t one.

“We all care about her as a member of our squad- so if you’re here to cause her trouble, then we have a problem. Now.” Echo leans forward, hand on the table, his voice getting very low.  “Is there something else you would like to say to us, vode?”

“Oh I think they’ve said enough.” Squad and regs turn to see Captain Case, helmet on, arms crossed. The two reg troopers jump to attention. 

“Mel. Felbourn. Not really showing our battalion in the best light, are ya? I think you owe their medic an apology.” His voice sounds dangerous through the vocoder. “After you finish scrubbing all the public freshers on the ship. Top. To. Bottom.”

“Sir yes sir!” The regs say in unison, stiff as boards.

“Dismissed,” the Captain waves, the two clones hurrying off and away with nary a mumble.

Hunter sits back at the table, turning to face Case. He looks over the Captain with a suspicious gratitude. “You didn’t need to do that.”

They can hear the Captain’s smirk. “I did, actually. They’re my men- and if no one has ‘taught them manners’, well, I’d better start now.”

He takes off his helmet and tucks it under his arm, shaking out his hair a little. “So, did I hear your medic isn’t feeling well?”

“No,” Tech corrects, of course. “Our demolition’s expert was not feeling well, so naturally our medic stayed behind to monitor any potential complications.”

Captain Case winces. “Ah, sorry to hear that. Though I’m not surprised, those inoculations are still new enough. Never know the side effects-”

“Why did you step in?” Crosshair interrupts, voice low and suspicious, glaring over at the reg Captain. “If you’re expecting to get to her through us, you’re wrong.”

Case blinks a few times, then chuckles. “Is that what you think that was?” He shakes his head, saying almost to himself. “You’ve all been hanging around the wrong vode.” 

He looks back up at them, meeting all of their eyes. “Rex and Cody speak highly of you boys, and they don’t do that lightly. Anyone who has earned their respect… well, is definitely worthy of mine.”

He turns to leave. “I’ll leave you to your breakfast. Just know…” he flashes a cheeky grin at them, making eye contact with Hunter. “A girl like that? Make sure to take good care of her.”

Hunter smirks. He supposes he likes this reg after all. 

“You can count on it.”

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

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[razorblade180-heated]

A wonderful performance

[Hey, it’s a smut]

[Disclaimer, I wrote a fair share of this before 4.3 so it’s been reconstructed quite a bit. Spare me.]

“The grass is always greener on the other side” is a well known phrase put to test in many plays, movies, and of course, life. Furina had witnessed this truth many times over the centuries but she never thought it would rear its head as she was granted her new lease on life. At last she had been granted a chance at peace, simplicity, freedom, and way off stage. These were all things that brought a sense of ease to a wary mind that she did not take for granted. However, not even she expected to breathe a sigh of relief upon being granted a Vision. Maybe it was because she felt a lack of power her entire life? Whatever the reason, excitement stirred in her chest under the pale moonlight as she stood on the shore line using her gift to have a certain sway over the low tide. Divinity was something Furina didn’t care for and she was sure gaining mastery over her abilities would open more peculiar doors rather than a path of peace; yet that didn’t terrify her. Rather, Furina felt relief in knowing if she chose to stand on stage and greet the audience with another spectacle, it just might be possible. The humor heart is indeed a fickle thing.

“I’ve truly lost my mind.” She chuckled under her breath, forming a seashell out of hydro.

“That’s pretty.” Called out a familiar voice.

Furina’s broken concentration brought her creation splashed onto the sand. She looked to her right to see none other than Aether walking over, soaked head to toe. “Night swimming are we? Will wonders never cease?”

“Sorta? I was helping someone looking for something as well as collecting a few resources.”

“For your sake I hope it wasn’t crustaceans. Only a few are allowed to the public in this area during this time of season. I doubt you have the list memorized.”

“Pfft, is that so?” He laughed, until he saw Furina stare with unblinking eyes. “Wait, that’s an actual law!?”

“I am going to pretend you found some old mechanical tools and played with the otters.”

“I mean…that also did in fact happen.” He got closer to the girl before sitting on the white sandy beach. “Anyway, what brings you out here in the dead of night? Looks like you’re training.”

“Training? Ha!” Furina snapped her fingers and her honored guests appeared, running around to play while Furina crossed her legs and sat on a bubble she made. “I’m reveling in my new found strength.” She boasted happily, summoning a wheel that held different desserts.

Aether still couldn’t believe how effortless Furina made that look. “Wow, you already found multiple ways to use hydro.”

“The power of water is the ability to take any shape after all. I can even walk across it. Wouldn’t want to go around drenched all the time now would we?” She teased.

“It’s not that bad. Though I probably should’ve brought a towel to-” before he could even finish, Furina took all of the moisture out of his clothes while eating a piece of cake. “Huh…you sure you’re not somehow still an Oceanid or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Although, his question did make her look at her hands as well as examine the beautiful deep blue gem that made this all possible. “…It’s always said Visions are a blessing, a favor from the gods. I wouldn’t really know but… maybe it only makes sense I’m naturally adept at this. It’s a strange feeling. Mirror-me didn’t really teach me a lot and at the same time it feels like it would’ve been redundant.”

“Do you somehow feel closer to her now?”

“In a sense, I suppose so. I can’t really say how that feels. It simply is what it is. Fate is odd like that. Either way, I intend to express all of me. Even if I don’t exactly understand yet what that means for me.” Furina looked at the ocean. “To think after everything I can still find peace at this sight.”

“I’m sure many others feel the exact same conflicting feeling.”

“Fontainian’s and their homeland. We’re certainly a colorful group of people.” She smiled. “Although it would be wonderful if we could be a little less observant. It took entirely too much effort to sneak over here. I even ran into Clorinde during a shift change apparently. Fortunately we remain pleasant towards one another. I do hope she takes the night off like I suggested.”

“Hold on. Sneaking? Why were you sneaking around? There’s no curfew. Though I do imagine most normal people are in bed by now.”

“I don’t think that last sentence was necessary.” She scoffed. “Need I remind you that you’re here as well?”

“Don’t try and get around the question.”

“Ugh, it’s nothing, honest. I just…would rather not bump into many people. After all…Poisson isn’t the only place resentment lingers.” Furina’s bubble popped, causing her to land on the sand as she deflated. “Not that I can blame them.”

“Things like these take time. A lot has happened. It’ll take a while to process.”

“I might know that better than most. I doubt I've truly come to terms with even half of what I feel inside. Regardless, I’m not looking or expecting forgiveness. Their animosity is completely warranted. I could only treat symptoms to what was a long and threatening illness, I. The grand scheme of things that is.”

Aether scrunched his face. He couldn’t exactly call himself the biggest optimist in general or when it came to the prophecy. Even so… “I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit. In fact, neither did I. Be it your powers or lack thereof, you’re very quick to learn and adapt. Not to mention resilient. I’m sorry if it ever came across that I underestimated you.”

Furina felt her cheeks gain a little warmth. Here she was saying she didn’t need apologies or forgiveness, yet hearing it from Aether did nicely for her guilty heart. Not to mention the genuine praise of her capabilities. “Thank you, but really, there’s no need. If I was underestimated then that only means I did my job well, right? I never wanted anyone to see me worry or anything of the sort. It would’ve only brought them closer behind the curtain meant to be shut. I won’t say it wasn’t frustrating; no, I could never say that. Also, if you ask me, not being able to do more because I lacked the power to is a poor excuse. I wish I could have saved more people if anything.”

Aether could see the deep regret in her tired expression, born not from lack of trying, but from the fact her best was all she had. Aether wished he could properly disagree, but he knows the sting of wishing to be better well.

“Furina…”

“Heh, sorry.” She shook away the negative thoughts. “I didn’t mean to make this conversation heavy. I should try following Navia’s example more. Moving on is nearly impossible if all you do is bring up the past. Fontaine is in safer hands now.”

“They’ve always been.” He said with a stern voice that caught Furina’s attention. “We might not be able to do everything we wish we could, but that doesn’t mean you were lacking or inadequate. Earlier today I heard someone thank their blessings by giving gratitude to the Hydro Archon; another person said your name fondly in regards to this nation’s safety. Some even went as far as to call you Focalor.”

“Wh-What!? The news by now has had to have circulated even to the other lands about…you know…”

“My point exactly. You’re tired and down on yourself. I get that. Still, I hope you know for many people, real or not, you were their Hydro Archon for 500 years and held your responsibilities right to the very end. When that title is invoked many will think of you, and if you were to ask them me, I’d tell you that’s earned. I hope you can find comfort in that somehow.”

Furina didn’t understand why this shocked as much as it did. If anything, she was always highly aware of the feelings her, or rather, Fontaine’s people held. If she weren’t honest with herself, though the role she played brought unimaginable grief, she held zero regret in her choice or could say there was absolutely no joy over the centuries. Even the saddest of tragedies had their glimmer of light. If they didn’t, how would the character, performer, or audience truly understand what was tragic about it all?

“You know something? I think you might actually make for a good attorney. Not only do you bring sound reasoning consistently, but somehow you always seem to sway what’s in a person’s heart.”

Aether couldn’t help but laugh off the thought awkwardly. “Thanks for the compliment, but I'm honestly a nervous wreck every time I was in those stands. Don’t think I have the stomach for it all that much. Speaking of which…” he trailed off.

“Ah… is this the part where you want to apologize for nearly getting me killed?” Furina said quickly and with the utmost bluntness.

“That…was no one’s plan. I’m the slightest I might add.”

“Mmhmm, buuuut it certainly happened. There’s a suspended death sentence in my name inside some filing cabinet. That exists now.” She teased further, poking his arm with faux aggression. “As I said earlier, there’s no need to apologize for those things. I can see that I didn’t make things easy and how everyone, including myself, did all we could with what we understood. It wouldn’t make sense to hold that against any of you. However…I won’t lie and say I didn’t feel…blindsided.”

She said it nicely, but Aether remembered the hurt that riddled her eyes in the moment she realized she was lured into a trap.

“You’re right.” He said, turning away from her gaze to look at anything across the water. “I still wanted to say I’m sorry. It’s just that…”

He grew silent. Furina could understand but was still rather annoyed how now he was the one making things heavy and looking back! “Just what? Out with it already.” She crossed her arms.

“…I never wanted to make you cry.”

The rolling waves filled the space between them as they both let his words hang in the air. Furina could see the tips of his ears become stricken with red while she felt a flutter in her chest. Of all things that happened that day, she would’ve never guessed that’s what he was going to say.

“I…” she sighed. Damnit! You would think at this point she could handle curveball situations like this as quickly and easily as breathing. Furina took a deep exhale before breathing in composure, displaying a smile he couldn’t see and summoning bravado. “What an interesting thing to say. Let’s be honest with ourselves. It’s not as if you made me cry. Saying so would be taking credit from hundreds of other reasons I often want to cry about. It just so happened that day the scales tipped! Also…” her became more earnest, “Fate said I was going to weep. So please, don’t feel bad. Okay?”

Aether turned back around to see Furina showing off a smile that said “it’s fine.” Aether smiled back. “Someone is certainly more expressive.”

“I am an actress! It’s my duty to convey my feelings with my glance and every movement!” She said proudly.

“It’s a little confusing though when you look fed up yet clearly give longing looks, Madame Focalor.” He said with a cheeky grin.

Her face flared red. Furina would’ve thought her ears had grown weary of that name; yet hearing his lips say it was….“I-I have done no such thing! You’re simply awful at reading people! And don’t call me that so casually! More importantly, are you saying your gaze is so fixed on me to the point of pondering my feelings about trivial things?”

“So those glances are trivial?” He teases. “You wound me.”

“So you do want them to be longing? Ah ha!” She pointed, watching him play off the accusation with an eye roll. “Roll your eyes all you like. It’s not like I can blame fleeting flights of fancy. I still am Fontaine’s biggest celebrity!” She stands up proudly.

Aether begins clapping in a way that could only be described as petty. Furina couldn’t believe even after all of this, admitting he might have a certain fondness for her was beyond him. Meanwhile, the young man was glad to see her look more energetic. It would seem like the chip on her shoulder wasn’t all an act. It was definitely amusing and nice, if not a little tiring at times. Furina de Fontaine in a nutshell.

The air between them began to feel more playful and rather mischievous as Furina gave a smirk, taking this man by the hands and pulling him up to his feet.

“What’s all this about?”

“I figured you’ve done nothing but grill my authenticity while you play coy. Admittedly your acting is fine but I hardly say that role suits you. All this time I’ve barely seen anything that constitutes your praise as an adventure.”

“What!? I helped save Fontaine! It’s not my fault you weren’t around for the one huge battle!”

“Excuses. That’s all I hear from you. You’re definitely cunning and quick witted, but I’m strangely unconvinced; so if you’re going to keep your eyes on me, might as well put them to the test along with a few other skills.” Furina puts her hat on Aether and tilts it down just over his eyes. “Hold it just like that and count to 70. No cheating now.”

Aether holds the hat like she says. “And when I’m done?”

“You’re a renowned traveler who’s been here for a while haven’t you? Let’s see just how well you know your way around this kingdom. Start counting.”

He could hear her sprint off swiftly. In a matter of seconds, all he could hear was the waves. Furina sure could move when she wanted to. Aether laughed as he continued to count mentally. As he hit 70, he removed the hat from his face and immediately noticed the water stole her footprints aside from the ones immediately next to him.

“Well played Furina. Well played…”

xxxxx

Skipping, giggling and sneaking about, Furina happily moved around her beloved territory. Skilled or not, Aether was in her domain. The likelihood of him even knowing the patrol of the Gardes was incredibly low.

“I do hope he makes this interesting for me.” She hummed, heading west from the main plaza.

“Psssst!” Hissed a few streets away.

Furina whipped her head around and gasped, spotting the blonde sitting at a table with a smug smile. How did he get here so quickly!? It had to be luck, right? Her answer came as he casually pointed to his shoes. Furina looked down at her own and noticed not all of the sand had abandoned the soles.

“Ah…..” Furina looked back up, gave a sheepish shrug, then immediately took off sprinting around the corner.

“Guess we’re doing tag rules then.”

Aether got up with her hat in hand before giving chase. She really was quick on her feet. He barely saw a flash of blue fabric float by as he turned the corner himself. Deeper and deeper he went into Fontaine’s alleyways; going under aquabus bridges and slipping through a side path he’s never noticed. Unlike the other places he’s visited, Fontaine’s major city somehow managed to feel dense one moment then open space the next. The chase was harder than he expected. Furina seemed to slip past every stacked box and promotional sign like a street cat. Clearly this was a path well traversed by her. It was probably how someone with her level of fame managed to slip away from unfavorable situations.

Furina casually ducked between a gap in a fence and around the back of a bakery to find herself one of the most out of the way and peaceful spots in Fontaine. It was a pretty little alleyway; hardly was there any foot traffic during the busiest days. Almost makes her wonder if her people notice it. This precious little space might as well not exist. Furina was convinced some criminal at least had to know about it, but no. This was easily her favorite little hiding hole away from prying eyes.

She put her back against the brick wall and caught her breath. Next time she’ll remember to check her shoes. She had planned to get here a little more eloquently. Oh well. She looked back the way she came, as well as down the path that would lead back to the main streets. No sign of her pursuer.

Did he double back? That was a possibility, but Furina definitely heard his steps hot on her heels for some time. “No way I actually gave him the slip.” She whispered to herself.

“Perish the thought.” He responded.

Furina’s hat fell right onto her head. Her gaze looked towards the sky to see him look down from the roof. With a single hop, he descended and landed right in front of her before she could think about slipping away. Aether put his hands on either side of her and smirked.

“That’s the game. Convinced of my skills now?”

“Quite a lot of effort you put into this. All I’m convinced of is how you can’t stand not having your eyes on me.” Furina playfully wrapped her right hand around his white scarf. It was softer than it looked. “I typically find this level of dedication from my friends a nuisance. I hope you understand that?”

“So I’m a fan now?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I might be. You are definitely talented. I’d see another show.”

“Heh, I rest my case then.” She may have been exaggerating before but now that he was this close… “I can’t be mad about eyes that are this pretty watching me.”

“Like you could be mad at all. Are we still acting like you didn’t lead me here?”

“Is that so~ An interesting accusation.”

“Well I can’t be a fan of Furina de Fontaine if I couldn’t claim to understand her even just a little bit. She’s smarter than she leads on; always thinking about her next move to get what she wants because how could she not? It’s who she is. So, Furina, go ahead. Take what you want~”

She tried remaining resolute in their face off. At this point however, Furina grew intolerant of theatrics; especially when his were so thinly veiled. Even so, she had to admit his commitment to it was something she couldn’t help but stubbornly adore. “I swear…you are so…” Furina didn’t even bother finishing her words.

She wrapped her hand further, pulling Aether down into a feverish kiss neither could resist any longer. Furina invited the boy's eager tongue to slip in between her lips while his right hand grabbed her by the waist and pressed her body up against him. Her left arm draped over his shoulder then folded in to keep his lips right where she wanted. Not that he had thoughts of leaving. Aether leaned deeply into the kiss, fully exploring her so-called, “prideful mouth.” Although right now, the only thing escaping from it were the moans he stole from her.

They savored every second of their growing passion in the secluded alleyway until Furina released him at least. Their chests heaved, desperately taking air as the two of them stared at each other’s reddened faces. She could feel his growing excitement press against her stomach and couldn’t help but smirk.

Her bewitching eyes glowed a faint blue that Aether couldn’t help but drown in. Furina’s hands began moving again, slowly trailing down his chest, then his stomach, and finally stopping at his hips as her fingers tugged on his waistband.

“Isn’t public indecency a crime?”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” Her voice hummed with a playful hunger that reached her smile. Though it seemed Aether wasn’t letting her have free reign entirely. His right hand took both of her wrists and she let out a small gasp as he put them overhead against the wall. “Scared of getting caught?” She teased, trying to sound unbothered.

“Not exactly, but am I not worthy of your chambers?”

“Ha! And you claim I’m not the honest one? How can a I grant a plea if you’re not clear~” Furina kept her eyes on his. She used her right leg to press against the outside of his left, rubbing up against it teasingly so. His face said everything, but Furina wanted his words. “Go on, speak your mind.”

Aether gladly spoke his mind, but not before keeping Furina in check. He had no problem expressing his desires, but he wasn’t about to let her ego grow so easily. Furina remained unblinking as he removed his left glove with his teeth before dropping it. Aether found his way to her soft and cool torso, dipping lower into her shorts. The actress’s blush only grew along with her sultry smile when he reached wet, warm lips that his fingers slowly massaged.

Furina let out a quiet sigh as the adventurer slipped into her and started curling two fingers to the point her hips jutted out and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

“Mmm~”

“We’ve danced around too long to get to this point.” Aether leaned into Furina’s ear. “I want to savor you, so let’s take this behind closed doors; my dear Madam Focalor.”

Such a lovely little act. “That can be arranged.” She let his face back up just a little before stealing his lips. Again, his tongue was greeted by hers; only this time her hips were way more involved in their passion. Furina didn’t even try to free her wrists from his grasp. He was getting so forceful with her body. So…possessive. It was becoming a bit of a struggle to do anything besides listen, and despite her pride, Furina was finding bliss. Aether didn’t stop stirring her insides as he started to ravish her neck. Furina would’ve been done for if it wasn’t for Aether suddenly stopping the moment her knees began buckling. His fingers left her body but she quickly grabbed the lustful hand, catching Aether by surprise. She wouldn’t be put on the back foot completely.

“Shall we get going?” Furina said, guiding his hand to her face. She looked right at him with intense eyes as wrapped her lips around the two soaked digits, licking them clean. Furina left no space between them. Even if he tried to downplay the emotions on his face, the hot throbbing that poked her lower body told all of the blonde’s secrets. “I wouldn’t blame you however, if you needed just a moment of clarity before we made the trip.” Just how long could the boy endure? Furina was eager to find out. She snaked his hand around her throat to make him even more flustered, but was caught off guard to feel his grip tighten just enough for her to realize. Another gasp left her; and Aether leaned in real close.

“Lower your shorts.”

A victory for Furina, although just like always, she had put herself in a position where backing down wasn’t an option. She pulled down her shorts to her knees, allowing the chill air to greet her body while her hands were already pulling down Aether’s pants until she felt his erection spring out and tap her inner thigh. Thank goodness it was dark. It was the only thing hiding just how comically red her cheeks have gotten. Her digits ran along its length, memorizing its shape as she made it slick with a mixture of their arousal and a bit of hydro. His free hand found her butt and made her smirk even more apparent as she felt him squeeze.

“Guess you couldn’t wait after all?”

“Hush.” He groaned.

Air filled Furina’s lungs as she felt Aether push into her. Her playful gaze left as her eyes became wide from the intrusion that commanded her body to hold it tightly. “Oooh my~” Furina grabbed his face and pulled him into another tongue war as Aether rolled his hips into hers. “Mmph!!” Every thrust stole a moan. His hold on her neck remained steady while her waist was kept firmly in place for him to gouge out her insides.

Aether’s grunts matched her feverish panting she snuck in between breaths. How’d he allow her to rile him up so easily? It was as if he was spellbound, burdened with a thirst only she could quench and a desire to shut Furina up. Neither wanted to lose this little game of theirs, but Aether could barely think straight, feeling just how tight her walls are. Not to mention how wet and warm the girl was. If it wasn’t for the smacking of their make out session, the leading noise in this alleyway would be the sound of her pussy swallowing him up. The harder he thrusts, the more Furina sucked on his tongue. She moved her hands around the back of his head in fear of the pleasure causing her to squeeze his face too hard. What was meant to be a bit of foreplay had turned into full blown fucking.

“Anghn, like that~” her voice trembled. “Just like that.” Her body yielded to his movements as his cock dug into a sweet spot repeatedly. In this moment Aether could make her throw her pride aside as long as she got to cum. Every pump felt so heavy and wanting of her body. No person could deny such ecstasy. Not even a god. Furina pried her lips away from Aether’s for her own sanity. “H-Hey…you can cum.. whenever y’know?” Praying he’d leave her with the ability to walk at least.

The strength in her voice waned but Aether found it endearing. He let go of her throat and let her head rest over his shoulder; partly for his own benefit. They both may have started off too strongly. Aether gave several more thrusts before forcing himself to pull out. It was so sudden that Furina’s legs nearly gave out.

“C-Careful!” She trembled. Furina looked down at the unruly appendage that stirred her, watching it spill its seed. “Now, now, evidence is the last thing we need to leave.” She pointed at the mess and washed it away with a stream of hydro before going a little limp on top of the boy.

Aether let out a chuckle. “That’s certainly handy. You okay?”

“Better shape than you. Though a small break is much deserved for your efforts.” She said, sinking into the wall as if it was some luxury mattress.

“Heh, why thank you.”

Both of them found their antics a little ridiculous yet oh so fun at this point. Furina had half a mind to pull the blonde in for another kiss when suddenly, a rumbling trash can startled them stiff. Aether quickly clothed himself and covered Furina from any prying eyes. Their quick maneuvering was in vain however. The trash fell over and out from behind it was a simple cat running off.

Thankful for the outcome but now on edge, Furina realized perhaps Aether had a point. She had no idea how she would’ve explained this to a Garde. “Let’s move this performance to my chambers.” She whispered.

xxxxxx

“ Anyone could say what they want about Furina, but they can’t say she isn’t entertaining.” Those words were always echoed by the people of Fontaine. Aether had to admit every day understood those words more and more. Beyond entertaining however, Furina was surprisingly cunning in unpredictable ways. It made sense for a ruler, former or otherwise, to know their kingdom, but for her to lead Aether all the way to her abode unseen through the quietest Fontainian streets was rather impressive indeed.

“You know you’re quite mischievous when you want to be.”

“It’s my personal spice of life. Everything deserves a little twist.” She took him by the scarf again and walked backwards into her room. By the time the door clicked, Furina was already feeling him up once more as they kissed against it. Frankly it was amazing they kept their hands off each other long enough to get here. It would appear Aether had recovered from their brief but wonderful moment of bliss. Good. Furina wasn’t done with him yet.

Aether felt her hands mess with her shirt and helped her out by raising his arms to quickly discard it. Furina continued to guide him by the lips further into the room then playfully pushed him onto her extravagant bed laced with the finest blue silk sheets which had to be one of coziest mattresses he’s ever felt.

“Wow. Can we just skip to the part where we sound asleep?” He looked down to see the woman already fishing his erection out from his pants. “Guess that’s a n- ngh~”

Music to Furina’s ears. She figured giving the boy a taste would silence his cute banter. Right now she was far more interested in the blush on his face spreading. As capable of a warrior Aether was, Furina was surprised to learn just how passive he could be. Once again she found her gaze fixated on his flickering eyes as she took him down to the back of her throat; she even went as far to moan, sending vibrations through his body that made his hips rise.

“Furina!” He panted, overwhelmed by her hyperactive tongue coiling around him. Aether found it difficult to look at her directly which in turn, only made her more enthusiastic. He began to feel the pleasure rise gradually, his cock twitching violently before Furina dragged her lips off of him.

“Oh no you don’t.” Furina said, wiping her mouth with a single finger. “Do try to last a little longer. We haven’t gotten to the best part.” She gave him a seductive smile as she finally removed her shorts entirely, along with pale blue panties. In truth, she found her impatience a little unbecoming, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care at the moment. Furina gladly straddled Aether, raising her hips right over his raging manhood before slowly piercing herself with it.

“Mmmngh~” she couldn’t deny how full she felt; how he seemed to touch…everything. Furina took a moment to try and calm her breathing as well as her body before proceeding any further. At that time, Aether sat up to meet her and began reaching for her top, but Furina grabbed his hand in reflex.

Aether was surprised by the reaction, and to see Furina’s eyes quickly dart away from his own. “I suppose divine stars can have such relatable insecurities like these.” He spoke softly.

“I may be a star, as you say, but that makes me no less of a woman.” She said, a bit more defensively than she would’ve liked.

“That’s fair. Still, for you to be insecure about this? You, who has the noblest of forms…” he reached for her again. “Bewitching and divine beyond reason and comprehension~”

Furina felt her heart skip a beat. He removed her hat then began quietly working on her top while she remained rigidly still. Those words he spoke could’ve easily been sugar coated, yet Furina let them have their sway; she raised her arms and let Aether see…everything. “It’s not much.”

“Doesn’t matter; It’s what I’m looking for.” He said just as quickly, leaning in as he wrapped his arms around her porcelain skin. “You’re perfect.”

Furina was undone by his teeth sinking into her neck, nipping away towards her collarbone and then assaulting her chest with warm lips and an even warmer tongue.

“Mmm. Truly you are…hopeless.” She swooned, her hips rocking in his laps reflexively. “Fine then, have your fill!” Furina’s arms kept him close.

Aether gladly began to devour her figure, leaving no part unmarked by his affection. Furina didn’t know what was worse. His persistence, or the feeling of his cock growing inside deeper than ever before. Furina felt her face grow hot. His words were no lie at all. The very thought made her body squeeze him in place while her hips kept moving on their own. She pressed her soft, shapely ass onto his lap, grinding his length right up against her womb while she felt Aether’s teeth ensnare a nipple and tease it relentlessly. Furina couldn’t stop her nails from running in between his shoulder blades as she lost composure. There was no hiding it from him; she wanted all she could take from him.

Aether stopped his oral assault for only a moment but it was enough time for Furina to push him back down against the mattress, her hands roaming down his chest as she let out breathless pants. He couldn’t utter even one word as watched in awe as Furina’s movements flowed like a stream; the way her hips would raise only to slam back down and how she shut her eyes to focus on the pleasure drove Aether crazy. Everything felt so wonderful and stuck to his length like warm honey. It took so much strength to not scream when she completely sat down on his lap and rolled her hips forward while her nails grazed his ribs and traced his toned chest.

Furia looked down at him, hearing the sharp, strained breaths come in and out between as kept his eyes shut tightly. The blush on his face was a beautiful red, like a vintage wine ready to devour. Furina laid her body completely on top of his body, continuing to raise, lower, and roll her hips as she began nipping his ear or kissing his neck. As she thought. It was tastier than any wine. Furina was ready to stay like this and drink him up forever until a sudden burst of heat rushed into her body, causing her to gasp. The girl sat up immediately and looked down. Her eyes widened and cheeks glowed scarlet seeing Aether’s cock twitch violently as thick, white cum began leaking out of her. Furina looked back up at Aether to see him covering his face with one hand.

He looked through spread fingers and sure enough, the woman on top of him was grinning like a mischievous cat. “I was close from your blowjob.” He defended.

“Now why don’t I believe that in its entirety?” She cooed, loving his flustered expression. “Not that I can blame you. As you said, I’m bewitching.” She took his hand and ran it up her body, earning another twitch. “Was I too much?”

Aether had no defense for that. He sat up and put his face against her chest to hide better. “You’re annoying is what you are.” He groaned, knowing his ears had to red. He could feel Furina’s fingers playing with his braid. “I got a bit overwhelmed.”

“No need to explain yourself.” She hummed, proud of her performance. He clearly didn’t notice all the little orgasms and jolts of pleasure she was experiencing. “Feel free to recover. After all, it would be natural for someone such as I to be overstimulating to a mortal. I felt lovely. I won’t hold this against-” She cut her victory lap short, feeling Aether began to grow inside of her again. “H-Huh?”

Aether pushed his waist forward, causing Furina to let out a yelp as she was put on her back with Aether perfectly looking down at her between her legs. A jolt went through her as he grabbed both her thighs and moved her legs onto his shoulders where they dangled. The fierce determination in his gaze made Furina realize she might have spoken too soon about his submissive tendencies. Perhaps she had gloated a little too much?

“We can uh…take a break if you’re tir-aah~” She felt his waist dip until it met her body. Aether leaned over her and whispered.

“I said I was going to savor you.” He pulled out to the tip, then plunged right back in.

Furina felt the air leave her lungs and brain stutter for a moment as Aether began pounding her relentlessly. Her limbs didn’t know to grip the sheets or onto him, but they settled for clawing the sheets of the rocking bed. “W-Wait! Anngh! It’s…too deep~” her moans were blatant, mouth agape as she pleaded. The reply she received was his tongue conquering hers, and yet she made no argument against it. “Mmmmm~”

There was nothing to do but take his passion. Furina was certain he was harder than before and making her hips float with every soaked plunge into her. It was a good thing they were kissing, or else someone would’ve definitely heard her wail as he turned up the intensity. It was too much for her. His weight made sure he hit the bottom of her deepest part every time to the point Furina could only…

“MMMPH!?” Her body jerked violently, the inside of her walls gripping like a vase and unleashing a turret of her arousal that dampened the sheets as Aether pulled out and let her legs fall. Furina’s head was so clouded and her breathing was uncomfortable while the pleasure gradually subsided. So much of her strength had been eaten away, but she wasn’t even mad at it. Furina was too busy trying to calm down to care about anything else, even the fact a perfectly good set of sheets were ruined.

“Y-You…brute.” She groaned in pouty satisfaction, still feeling his efforts. Furina would not know true rest however. Aether slowly flipped her over to her stomach. She felt his strong hands grab her hips and raise them until she felt his tip press against her folds. “But I just came~” she whined, despite shaking her hips to feel him rub against her.

“Don’t tell me this mere mortal has overstimulated you?” He said with a hunger in his voice.

Furina let out a long groan as he pulled her onto his cock. “Mmngh, I’m sorry…!” she moaned, reaching for one of many pillows and burying her face in it as Aether’s hips plowed into her again, mercilessly thrusting like a piston. “Aaaaannh~”

Why did she adore this so much? She had him in the palm of her hand earlier and now she was sweating as he took her like an animal. It wasn’t that he was only thrusting, but commanding her hips to push into him, creating such a terribly indecent sound that echoed like steps in a puddle. She knew she wanted everything from him, but it was so embarrassing yet hot to give him everything he craved.

Aether listened to the symphony of squeals and moans as he watched the ripples her ass crested whenever he pushed forward into her body. Her skin was wonderfully flushed like his and the pleasure didn’t seem to end. “You’re so beautiful.”

How dare he say that to her now? When all she could do is push back even harder and submit to his hunger. She knew he could feel her grip tighten. There was no hiding from his words or what was in her heart.

Furina probably thought his ego spurred his actions. While that was admittedly part of the truth, it was insignificant to the infatuation he had seeing her so wanting and pleased by him. Furina was finally being honest.

He made her go prone and put his weight on her again and he took her gripped knuckles. “Look at me.” He rasped.

Furina looked over her right shoulder to see his face an inch away. She instantly closed her eyes and went in for a kiss they both so eagerly wanted. His fingers interlocked hers while his hips made sure she felt his unruly length get buried into her body as he fucked her into the bed. Aether ended their kiss and got his revenge from earlier, licking and nipping at her ear lobe. “Nooo~” her body trembled. “I’ll…”

“Give it to me. Don’t try to fight it. I want to see you cum, Madam Focalor~” He bit her neck.

His teeth found her neck as she was left with those sultry words that would be her undoing. “F..uck.” She put her face in the pillow and screamed, her walls taking hold of Aether’s trembling cock and squeezing it until it had no choice but to erupt again while her own arousal ran down her twitching legs.

Both of them felt the exhaustion hit, laying motionless as they groaned from the pleasure and fatigue. Aether rolled off of Furina and laid on his stomach right next to her. He turned his head to see the girl staring at him with pouty puffed out cheeks. Maybe he went a little overboard.

“Hehe…umm, my ba-”

“I want a normal kiss.” She huffed.

Aether blinked silently before giving a small smile. “As you wish.” He scooted closer and gently placed his lips on her, feeling her body ease into his.

Furina placed her head under his chin and silently, yet loudly, commanded comfort by resting against him. He was very quick on the uptake, placing his arm around her torso. “You performed wonderfully.” She hummed. “Now stay just like this for now. I won’t tolerate waking up alone.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I was all for skipping to this part.”

“Ha, as if I’d let you. Although…I can see the appeal.” She shut her eyes.

xxxxxx

When the god finally arose, the day had already begun. Furina opened her eyes to muffled light through the curtains but more importantly, her head rested on Aether’s bare chest. It appeared they moved a bit in their sleep. It was only when she sat up she realized they didn’t just move, but properly under clean sheets and on the appropriate side of the bed.

“….” She poked Aether’s cheek repeatedly until he groaned. “Hey, did you move us?”

“Mmhmm.” He mumbled. “You’re a heavy sleeper and I got a little cold, so I took us to bed properly.”

“But where did you get the clean sheets?”

He pointed towards the door. Furina looked to see a giant note on it with beautiful handwriting she immediately recognized. It said, “Do be mindful of regular patrol and shift changes, my lady. Do not fear however. No traces were discovered, and as always, my silence is yours. Sleep well, Clorinde.”

Furina felt utterly mortified, covering her bright red face. “Why is she so diligent!? She doesn’t even work for me! I told her to relax!”

“My guess is she had a vague idea of possible trouble you could find yourself in and thought it would be better for her to find out instead of someone else by mistake. She may have even known about the alley.” Aether sat up briefly with his undone hair flowing freely. He hugged the paralyzed Furina and brought her back down to bed. “Worry later, or rather, thank Clorinde later. It’s still sleepy time.”

She had no clue how he could be so calm about this!? Yet she also wasn’t about to disturb him. Though that note rid her of sleep, Furina stayed in his arms for comfort. She would think about everything else later. Her eyes drank in his sleeping face, the way his slightly flushed lips curled made her own lips curl up. Under dim light through blinds. Furina couldn’t stop replaying last night’s performance. Those lips of his were so active, so…wanting. They took and gave everything faster than she could process. For the first time in a long time, being overwhelmed felt glorious. She had to admit that right now…if she had the chance to-

Aether opened his eyes, feeling the lady’s gaze on him. He sat up and she followed suit. “If you want something then feel free to say it.” Aether said, casually grinning.

Furina’s cheeks were struck with red. Was he a mind reader now!? “D-Don’t put this on me! You’d think I’d fall for such an obvious plea for-” her defense was immediately cut at the source via Aether grabbing her lower jaw and pulling her in slowly as he stared at her with calm amber eyes. Her heart nearly stopped.

“It might be noon, but don’t you think it’s too early for theatrics? If you can swallow your pride right now, I’ll make it worth everything and more. Just like last night.” He said, morning voice and all.

Furina was left speechless and now bright red. Such a bold proposition! How dare he commanded such authority, and yet…it wasn’t exactly terrible. At least that’s how she tried to convince herself about her feelings towards it. In truth, it was embarrassingly marvelous.

Furina averted his gaze again and removed his hand. Without a word, she bent down, putting her head in his lap while pushing away the covers. She guided his length back into her mouth and began coiling her tongue to invigorate Aether once again. She can’t believe she was doing this, during broad daylight no less! He really was so annoying. It didn’t help she felt a hand start to rub the top of her head while another grabbed her exposed rear, its fingers sliding along it to meet her folds and give them attention.

“Mmm~” Furina raised her hips, allowing two fingers to properly slip inside of her as she continued her efforts in earnest. She felt Aether grow to the point her jaw hung open, his thick and leaking tip greeting her throat.

Aether could barely feel his hips from the way Furina relentlessly lapped his length. “Nngh, good girl.” He teased, committing to his role. He didn’t expect her body to give him a gripping reaction around his fingers. Looks like Furina was still full of surprises for them to discover together. “Okay, I’m a man of my word. Get on my lap.”

Furina took a deep breath as she came up. His fingers left her wanting as they left, but that was fine when what’s to come would feel much better. She couldn’t even find it in herself to boast about Aether’s reactions. Instead she quickly put one leg on each side of him and angled herself above his cock like last night. Slowly, she lowered herself, shutting her eyes tightly as her body remembered last night.

“Aaaa~” she moaned, sinking down further until she was sitting completely on him. Furina felt her hips go numb and her body twitch from the rush of a hot tongue tracing her modest chest. Furina didn’t even get the chance to open her eyes again before feeling her body fall backwards onto the bed; added weight held her body in place as that same tongue slipped past her lips and took it away to his own. The fullness inside was dragged back out to the entrance before slamming back down. A guttural groan rumbled in her chest as it happened again, and again, and again….

Damn that Aether. Nobody moves like this without having their own desires. She could hear every sharp inhale he took and felt the hunger in his hips feed them both ravenous pleasure. He might’ve made her swallow her pride, but only to hide the fact his mind was in the exact same place hers was. Furina couldn’t be bothered to be upset at the ruze at this point. She put her arms around his neck, drowning in their embrace as the heat between their bodies grew hotter. It wasn’t long before either worked a little sweat. That didn’t stop Aether at all though. Furina couldn’t stop her toes from curling after each and every deep thrust that pried her open. It was impossible to tell who was trembling at this point, the both of them soaring high until a final plunge into her released hot seed that her body ringed out with pleasure. Their kisses ended with heavy breathing and strained breath that tickled each other’s ears.

When Aether said, “Just like last night” Furina didn’t expect him to skip towards the intensity he displayed near the end! Her eyes fluttered open, feasting themselves on a slim, yet defined and toned figure between her legs, and eyes that took in her glistening porcelain figure as if it were a crowned jewel. Not that it wasn't, but to see him marvel at her without having to prompt him was… embarrassing to say the least.

Aether watched her eyes grow wider as he put his hands on her knees to part her legs wider before taking her hips into his control, raising her waist up to thrust directly into her.

Furina gasped as if she didn’t just watch him reposition her! His hips didn’t go as hard as before but made up for it with speed and control. “Ngh- you have…too much energy!” Furina moaned. Forget the previous round; her body was still sensitive from last night! “Must you be so rough!?”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Aether said breathlessly.

“I…”Furina’s eyes couldn’t help but watch the thick and unrelenting cock disappear inside her, only reappear briefly; the shaft was coated in a mixture of their passion that kept it slick and entering repeatedly. The girl sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, seeing how his length only came back out messier after each thrust. She laid her back, her left arm hiding her eyes.

Aether groaned. “Mmm, you’re getting tighter.”

“Silence!” She whined, knowing it was true. “I…I…”

“Swallow your pride~”

“…..Don’t.., don’t stop, please.” She confessed, her voice wavering. Furina dug her fingers into the sheets while her toes curled again. “I don’t wanna get out of this bed! I just want to feel you!” Her face was bright red. Somehow she found the courage to remove her arm, only to not find fierce eyes dominating her, but shut ones on an equally flushed face as Aether’s hips worked overtime. A surprising sight to witness, yet it made Furina all the more needy for his touch. Her eyes shut again and the both of them bathed in the lustful, euphoric sounds of their bodies.

Aether fought so hard not to yell from the way the soaked, warm walls pleaded for him. His thighs were doused in Furina’s arousal as she slammed into them, giving her everything.

Her pussy gladly took the punishment, growing red from the persistent pounding that made her womb ache. Every inch was taken and remembered. Furina feared if this kept up, Aether might reshape her body entirely. That would be unacceptable. To perfectly accommodate her foolish consort’s body would be…

“Aangh~” she sighed. “Make me yours; for all time…” such a maddening idea.

Furina could no longer find words for her pleasure as she felt Aether’s tip rub against womb and deliver a rush of hot seed directly inside it, his hands like a vice on her hips and rigid length buried to the hilt inside her body. The ravishing feeling had a death grip on her body she wouldn’t soon forget. The word maddening didn’t do it justice. Furina let her mind wander off as the sound that finally let her throat could only be described as one thing. Operatic.

xxxxxx

Loud one moment and quiet the next. Furina’s life had been a whirlpool of emotions in what felt like a wild dream. Yet here she was now, humming in a bubble bath as diligent hands scrubbed her scalp before rinsing the soap out with soothing warm water.

“Mmm. I can’t say 500 years was worth this specific moment, but I think it’s pretty close.” She could hear Aether chuckle.

“Unbelievable. I’m glad you’re happy putting me to work.”

“I’ll wash your hair next if you want?”

“It was a little joke Furina.”

“And my offer still stands~” She leaned back against the young man, watching his arms hold her. Furina ran her fingers in between his quietly as the water settled.

“Hey?” She said sheepishly, gathering her thoughts. “Just to set the record straight, I may have lived a long life but I wouldn’t say it’s been the most fulfilling. These past several hours are acts I’ve never done, so…” why did she suddenly feel so anxious saying this to him. “All I’m saying is I didn’t do this on a whim. If that makes sense. I-”

“Furina.” He said softly, turning her head his way to put her nerves to rest with a gentle, comforting kiss. “I know.”

Perhaps she was the one who underestimated him? He could read her just fine. Furina smiled softly, resting her head on his chest. “I couldn’t ask for a person to share the stage with.”

xxxxx

“Two bags. Just as promised. I thought you would’ve picked these up earlier.” Said a vendor, handing off the groceries to Furina.

“Thank you. And I’ll try to next time. I got a little held up.” She laughed off as she began walking. As she made her way home, her feet froze in place as Clorinde and Navia nearly bumped into her as they turned the corner.

“Wow! Sorry about that.” Navia chuckled. Although it went unheard as Furina and Clorinde shared a glance.

“Did you make it home safely last night? No problems?”

“N-None.” Furina wanted to sink to the bottom of the water right now. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing. Next time though, I’d recommend taking care of all personal business in a more…private capacity.”

“I will keep that in mind. Anyways, I should get these home.Toodaloo!” Furina briskly walked off.

Navia couldn’t help but notice the girl’s awkward stride as she left. “Is Furina okay? She seemed a little…”

“Training.” Clorinde said, calmer than ever. “She was by the water training and pushed herself a little too hard. I made sure to keep an eye out is all. She’s probably still tired.”

“Ah. That’s sweet of you. For a moment I thought she still felt terribly awkward around us. Especially me. I do hope that feeling doesn’t last too long. I wouldn’t mind inviting her to tea.”

“You might have a better chance at that when I’m not around.”

“Really?” Navia squints, noticing the lack of eye contact she was receiving. “Don’t tell me you also feel awkward about it; given how you used to work for her and all?”

“…Something like that.”

“Ah ha! All the more reason to put in effort! I’ll try to get in touch sometime in the near future.”

“You really d-” it was too late. Clorinde could see the determination in Navia’s eyes. “I’ll…keep my schedule open.” The woman let out a quiet sigh of defeat. She’d be sure to grab some cake for Furina when the day comes.

[wordy-little-witch]

My brain is all over the place so I'm gonna mix n match my stuff with the only common theme being Buggy and hyperfixation.

But like. Age regression. Not the funky cool supernatural kind in fiction, the coping mechanism (I like the fiction ones too tho but for this, it's coping mechs)

Just. Buggy and Shanks both having had a frankly RIDICULOUS amount of childhood trauma and both turning to different methods to cope. Buggy got introduced to age regression both bc he already kinda sorta did t involuntarily without KNOWING and then when he brought on some people to his crew with experience in psychology and therapy for whatever reason.

He got dragged to self care hours, kicking and screaming at first and then more willingly. Turns out the "off vibes" were actually severe psychological distress, PTSD, etc. Who knew? Anyway yeah.

Cabaji, Mohji and Ritchie were the ones who were first aware of Buggy's "fuzzy episodes" as he called it. Was hard not to be in close quarters on a tiny ass ship holding three nearly grown men and a growing lion. As the crew grew, even when they got the Big Top, they were still mostly aware of things. Ritchie in particular always seemed to just... Know when Buggy was blurred out and needed a hand. Or to have smth to cuddle and pet.

Mohji actually brings it up in HIS therapy sessions without naming names. Just "hey how can I help with [x,y,z]?" There's some hums and haws before finally herspist is like "sounds like it could be anything, so I can't definitively say. Keep doing whatever has worked so far, I guess,but take care of yourself too. Maybe recommend your friend talk to a professional, like me or one of the other doctors."

Buggy is vehemently against it for a good while until he finally reaches a point that he's getting frustrated. He's scared and mad and decides he'll ACTUALLY consider it - then during one of his own sessions, he gets triggered into a panic attack, which spirals due to exhaustion into him just... clicking out. Surprise. Looks like it's happening whether he wants it or not.

Through this and subsequent meetings and experimenting, he gets told that what he's doing is a blend of regression and dissociation. They decide to try to separate thebtwo to see if maybe they can turn this from a defense to a decompression method.

Buggy still can count on one hand the number of people he trusts to know this - but it does help. He's doing... a lot better actually, with this. It doesn't fix everything, but it DOES help him stay steady enough to work on the things that need fixing. Cabaji, Mohji, Ritchie, and later Alvida are also finding themselves enjoying the time they spend together when Buggy wants or needs company. They also start picking up on some smaller things about Buggy that have turned the odd quirks and strange habits into smth more, start getting puzzle pieces to the bigger picture.

They secretly start a hit list but that's for another time.

Impel Down was an absolute hot mess, and the recovering from that and the subsequent summit war was not pretty. Just when things started coasting again on slightly smoother waters, Crocodile and Mihawk show up with the instatement of the Cross Guild.

Might just make a tag specifically for my agere stuff bc Buggy is my little blorbo and I shamelessly project on him so I may throw all my clown themed thought here

[redrawthecolorlessworld]

RE: MASTER 15 YURI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

stupid title but whatever

———

Pandora Paradox was alone on that day.

Until someone came up to her.

To have a normal human approach an almighty Goddess so casually like that...it slightly took Pandora by surprise.

"Hello!"

"...And who are you to come up to me like this?"

"Uh...well..."

"...?"

"Um...my name's Tsunagite!"

"...Why are you telling me to connect with you?"

"Wh- hey..."

That was one of the first times Pandora joked like that to a mortal. It's funny, really—she wasn't usually like this with anyone. But there was something so...captivating about Tsunagite that made her wanted to at least poke fun at her for the fun of it.

"Hah. Alright, I'll stop now. You know who I am by now, right?"

"Ah, why yes! You're The One Who Transcends All, Pandora Paradox!"

"Yeah. Exactly that."

Ever since that day, when she doesn't have any work to do back in the Realm of the Almighty, Pandora would sit on her usual spot in AngelMai Finale and wait for Tsunagite to come to her again. She would always come by, which is funny to the Goddess, honestly.

Days turn to months, and months turns to an entire year. By this point, Pandora had started to act...a little off. That was according to Tsunagite, at least.

"You've been acting off recently, y'know?"

"And why do you care so much?"

"Because...you're my friend."

Being called someone's friend in such a sincere way like that felt really odd to Pandora back then. It's strange how she felt that way when it's Tsunagite saying it, because she knew damn well that she had an entire group worth of "friends".

"...Right. I don't know. I don't wanna tell you."

"That's fine. You don't have to tell me everything. Sometimes you gotta vent a little, though. Do remember that."

Saying that, accompanied with a smile, Tsunagite could tell Pandora was in a sort of dilemma. She couldn't figure out what it was in time, though.

———

"Why are you doing this?!"

"Because this is for the best."

Pandora knew that this world she had created is imperfect.

So ending it in favor of bringing in a new era is her goal now.

But she couldn't do it right when Tsunagite was there, trying to stop her with all of her might.

Tsunagite's just some commoner—why would she even dare try to fight a literal Goddess?

...But then again, Tsunagite doesn't care about logic. Not back then, not now either.

The two girls fought, and ironically enough, the Goddess was the one to lose. Losing a battle to a human was one thing, but getting sealed away into a prison realm is another thing she deeply felt shame about.

Maybe her decision and plan wasn't the right one either.

Years turn to decades, decades turn to centuries, centuries turn to...probably more than that.

Pandora would have never thought she would see the girl who wanted to connect to other people's hearts again.

———

It's a rainy day in Rhymix—more specifically in both AngelMai Deluxe and Modelista. Both Pandora and Tsunagite are in neither of those places, however. The two are having some tea time whilst chatting about their day. For once, they finally feel at peace, knowing that the other is there for them.

"I recently got to hang out with Felys and Inverted World recently!"

"Felys? Wouldn't Mighty get jealous knowing that you of all people hung out with his husband?"

"Oh c'mon, Pandora! We both know that Felys only likes men."

"Pssh- I know that. But you know how Mighty is..."

"Haha. Maybe."

It's nice to finally be free from that prison realm, knowing that the one person who sealed you away to it was the one who let you out of that place. Pandora lets herself smile at Tsunagite as she rambled on and on about what she did in recent days.

For once, she feels less guilty of even existing.

And for once, she feels safe in the company of another person.

[delirium-charlotte]

started watching she-ra and only watched eps 1 and 2. initial reactionary thoughts are below the cut:

I think overall I genuinely wasn't expecting for the story already be really strong from the start and it sets up for a lot of crazy conflict potential which I can see why it would have gone on for at least a full precure season which I believe it is?

it has a lot of conflict points from - shadow weaver in general (esp with catra and adora) - catra already having that CRAZY talk when she tries to get adora back (HOLY COW!!!!!!) - glimmer (we're in the middle of our arc but I don't think we get to realize this until the end of ep 2 when she gives adora the sword fully) - adora and the state of "what does it mean to be a hero" - adora potentially facing not a great start as a "horde" - just the concept of being outcasted in general (not one of us) - catra!!!!!!!!!! catra ohhh my god

I think the societal aspects of itself are crazy enough already and I really enjoy how it's starting off that 1. we have this deeper connection to the "enemy" and that 2. the "hero" is not from some higher moral ground (?) from the start (technically yes she's not but her origin at first is conflicted and adora seems rather steadfast on holding her moral ground but the fact that catra is the enemy and they have five whole seasons for this I assume there will be times when adora really doesn't understand where catra is coming from bc she is naive!!! (we've been hit with this from the start!!! + catra literally calls her out on it) and then adora will begin to question again for what exactly is she fighting bc I assume the enemy is also made up of "outcasts" of society if shadow weaver was collecting orphans and such. unless this was just some plot device and doesn't have any deeper societal meaning. but whatever it can still be a plot device for adora to go hey why can't we save them? are they not the same as us and then will be met with the same mindset we first saw glimmer/adora have @ each other at the start)

also I am slightly honing on the fact that "princesses" are dangerous...... they hold this greater power.......... vs when adora is she ra she pulls it out in the same way as utena and so I am thinking about utena princesses according to our hero/prince adora are dangerous bc they can't control their powers....... witch much. (a girl is always a princess and a witch.)

the thing that really made me crash for catra was when she was telling adora to go home (WCHIH. WAS ALSO FRAMED BY THE NOT-CAREFUL VIEWER. WILL BE SEEN AS ORCHESTRAED BY SHADOW WEAVER BUT. I BELIEVE YES. CATRA BELIEVED ADORA WAS GOING TO COME BACK TO THEM ANYWAY AND WANTED TO GIVE HER HER OWN SPACE. AND THEN GOT SCARED THE MOMENT SHE SAW ADORA WEAR THAT FLOWER) and how she said specifically that the two of them have each other and it doesn't really matter when adora asked how she could know that shadow weaver had been priming both to be mindless soldiers and yet stay and so it's just. AAH!!!!! SHE DOESN'T KNOW ANYWHERE ELSE TO GO. SHE TRULY WANTED TO BE WITH ADORA !?!? AND  . AND. SHE FELT SO BETRAYED WHEN SHE SAW SHE RA................ even when she has her initial conversation with adora regarding her promotion badge she had been assuming that they would be together still.... which leads to the talk of them sneaking that aircraft and catra keeps navigating it to go out and out as if she wanted to keep adora away from the main "evil" of it all for a little while longer (TT)

I really found it fun at how the writing immediately had glimmer pretty much confess to their feelings to adora as a breaking point? instead of having it be something that gets instantly forgotten until 3 eps later or something and finally they bond but the bond is strangely very too friendly despite the two very much being at odds for a while and by then the audience would have probably really hated glimmer? and also I am really curious to what glimmer's purpose is... for now I'm indifferent to glimmer, she just is very much a kid and her arc seems a little rough but I want to see how they handle it I think though a lot of fans seem like they'd mischaracterize her

although idk if I'm supposed to be approaching the show more from the perspective I have now or to just accept it all ? like some things are just not as deep as I'm thinking. but it sure would be nice if there was more commentary.

overall already ep 1 and 2 have be on board it seems rather solid and like a really good precure season... I can’t wait to think about it some more

[casspurrjoybell-25]

Cold as Ice - Chapter 11 - Part 1

*Warning - Adult Content*

Landon Reilly

My pent up rage over the last few days was what was getting me through hockey practice.

I was playing a physical game, something my coaches and Rojas liked to see but hitting guys into the boards was really the only way for me to get all my anger out without punching someone, namely Wren.

I hated the way he made me feel and the way he knew exactly how to push me, to make me uncomfortable, to make me angry but part of me also envied him and the way he was unapologetic and that made me even more angry.

As practice went on, I moved through the drills with the precision that was always expected of me throughout my entire time playing hockey.

It was like this game had all my focus even though my mind was far away.

I was running on autopilot and I wasn't brought back down to earth until Rojas stood in front of me and stopped me.

"The coaches are really liking you," he said.

"You might get to start."

"Great," I replied, skating around him.

Rojas followed me, the two of us skating in silence for a moment.

I didn't even know if I wanted to be a starter or play hockey at all but to keep the scholarship money I got from the athletic department, I had to.

Rojas and I worked on a few drills together before practice ended.

The coaches brought us to center ice for a small meeting before they would let us back to the locker rooms.

"As you all know, we have a couple scrimmage games next week that we have been preparing for," Coach Foreman started.

"These games are where some of you rookies are going to show us what you got. I'll post the lineup for the scrimmage against Brown by the end of the week. You're dismissed."

I never wanted to step foot on the Brown campus again.

I was one of the last people off the ice, following the rest of my team back to the locker room.

As I was gathering my things after a quick shower, Cooper came up behind me and bumped my shoulder.

My initial instinct was to punch him but I fought of the urge and instead looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"Hey, Reilly, I didn't expect to see you out this weekend," he said.

"I'm serious, you should come with us again. It'll be fun."

"I'm not really the 'going out' type," I muttered, grabbing onto my bag. Cooper chuckled.

"That's not what it seemed like last time. Hey, who was that guy you were with when I saw you? I didn't recognize him."

"Wren," I said automatically, without thinking about it, like it was something I felt like Cooper should already know.

"He goes to Brown University."

"Oh," Cooper said.

"He seemed a little odd. I was wondering how you knew him."

I didn't say anything to that but a strange feeling crept through my stomach that made me want to leave this conversation immediately.

I didn't want to talk about Wren or hear Cooper talk about how odd he found him.

All I wanted was to forget about Wren and that I ever knew him at all.

I especially wanted to forget the way he looked the other morning as he undressed in front of me.

I hated the way my mind and body responded to him.

He had to have found some way into my brain with whatever weird powers he had and manipulated my thoughts because there was no way I saw a bunch of hockey players undress every day and he was the one who occupied my mind, the one who made me feel things that I didn't want to feel.

"But if you're friends with him or whatever, that's cool," Cooper added.

He must have taken my silence as offense.

I decided I would let him believe that he had offended me.

Anything to stop this conversation and leave but Wren wasn't my friend and even the thought of that being true gave me inexplicable rage.

I hated him and I never wanted to see him again.

Not after what he had suggested, not after the way I had reacted to seeing his body.

I needed to steer clear of him and forget about him and the way he made me feel.

There was only one way I knew how to do that, so that was how I ended up at the bar that night with Cooper and some other guys from the team.

They said they were only going for a bite to eat and a few drinks but I was there for something else entirely.

I needed to get drunk.

I needed to get drunk and forget about how Wren made me feel things that I tried so hard to suppress.

He was my biggest problem and the worst part was that he wanted to tempt me.

He wanted me to forget about whatever boundaries I had made for myself even if doing that would make me hate myself even more.

The drinking didn't help because all I could see was his stupid face, his stupid body.

Every time I tried to think of something else, there he was.

He had ruined me and he would undoubtedly be extremely please with himself to find out that he had.

It would make him feel more superior than he already did.

And with the drinking came even more anger and emotion.

It didn't work to numb me and make me feel nothing, forget everything that troubled me.

It made everything worse and that was how I ended up walking out of the bar without any of my teammates knowing.

My body was on autopilot just as it had been during hockey practice.

I stomped down the sidewalk, crossing the street without even looking for cars.

My hands were in fists at my sides as I walked down a brick pathway and ended up at one of Brown University's dorm buildings, the only one I had ever been to.

I entered the building as someone was leaving and took the stairs two at a time up to Wren's room.

Then I pounded on the door so hard that I could barely stop myself from hitting Wren as he opened it.

"Well, isn't this a nice surprise," Wren said, leaning against the door frame.

I shoved him back with my hand on his chest and walked into his room, slamming the door behind me.

His expression was playful and unserious like it was often times around me.

It was the look he had whenever he was amused with me and making fun of me in his head.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked with a grin.

"Shut the fuck up," I snapped, my hands pulling at my hair.

"You fucking ruined me," Wren's smile dropped slightly as I continued pulling at my hair.

I was breathing heavily, could feel my face getting hot, yet I still wanted to scream at him.

Me and my drunken state wanted him to feel my anger.

"You don't get it, you just don't get it," I yelled, starting to pace his room.

"I'm not supposed to be like this! I'm not. I'm supposed to be normal."

"Is this all because I asked you to have sex with me?" Wren asked.

"It was an offer, Lance. No one said you had to do it. You don't have to get all worked up about it."

"Shut up," I screamed.

"Don't say that again. I can't be like this. I'm not like this. It's you and the stupid things you say that are messing with my head."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Wren replied.

"Why don't you sit and calm down, alright? Before you have a panic attack or something. I do not want to deal with that."

[searous]

Hey friends, it’s been a while...

hasn’t it? It’s been years since I’ve posted here. A little strange to think it’s been this long. My life has changed completely since my last post. It’s a little odd to read these old stories I posted and remember what I was like to be that other version of me that wrote them--if you could even call that ‘me’. What was going through that person’s head when they wrote these things? I had some of the answers then, but it ended up being a lot more complicated that I thought.

So, what happened? Why did I just, stop posting out of nowhere? Well, to put it simply...I transitioned--I’m trans. I didn’t have the energy to try to maintain whatever I wanted this to become amidst me figuring my life out. 

And now? Well, I really have no idea. My future is so bright. I’ve been working on this video game since I was 15 and I’m closer than I’ve ever been to finishing it. I’ve been making new, real, good friends--people I may one day consider family.  I’ve been thinking about maybe trying to be a teacher like I’ve always wanted. I have all of this very new creative energy and desire to write things I just didn’t have or couldn’t use before. I finally feel like I am me, both mentally, and in a bizarrely physical way I wasn’t aware was even possible until recently. I have no idea what my future is going to be. And, ya know what? I like that. For once in my life, I know that no matter what, I’ll always have myself--from now on, no matter what happens, I will always be me. That’s...really beautiful. Don’t you think?

I cried while writing this. It’s only in moments like this that I really realize just how far I’ve come from seven years ago. It’s crazy to me now that I thought I was happy then. I’m sure that those who read my stories could tell that something was going on with me--maybe even what. A lot of my stories ended up talking about these feelings I had. Without knowing it, I was talking about dysphoria. At least, some of the time. There were a handful for stories I never posted because they were too “weird”, as I called them at the time. Ones where I very expressly talked about my desire to be a girl. I was so scared of this...but hey, past me, got something to say to ya: you made it girl! It’s hard now to believe I was ever anything but me.

With all that said now, I feel like I should introduce myself again:

Hi! My name is Katie! I go by Searous or CloudGirl online. You can call me Katie, Searous, or Cloud. My pronouns are she/her. I’m so happy to be back!

Being yourself is such a wonderful thing that most people take for granted. Oh, and, I’ve got some stuff planned. I think I’m gonna start posting again. Stick around to find out!

Keep being beautiful.

[miraculouscontent]

After reading that, I think it's safe to say that Miraculous Ladybug is more of a horror/psychological thriller than romance/comedy. And now I want an AU where Marinette takes the earrings off and realizes that they're messing with head

Marinette felt strange, and after getting used to the feeling of being on the Startrain, she knew it wasn't the cause. She felt lighter - less restricted - somehow, and while a part of her had expected that due to handing off the ladybug miraculous, it wasn't in the way she'd expected.

Once she was done sending Alya all the Ladybug tips, Marinette had figured they'd start talking about Adrien or what their next scheme would be once she got back, but she ended up finding the idea tiring. It was odd in the way that finding something in her room just slightly out of place would be (at least before the kwami began living there).

Everything she'd thought she might feel - anxiety over what could go wrong while she was gone, concern over how the kwami were doing in her absence, and longing for who she'd pictured as the love of her life - wasn't there. It felt completely unlike her, just as it felt unlike Alya to not reply to her messages considering how much she liked to be on her phone.

Abandoning the idea of texting Alya for now, she closed their conversation and idly started browsing her phone. Even still, the weird feeling didn't cease and her hero senses were going off.

Something was wrong, or... maybe right? It wasn't as if she was feeling anything bad, but she felt entirely different than when she was in Paris. It was hard to get a gauge on exactly how she should take it.

Marinette glanced at her parents, catching herself frowning before they could glance back. She looked at her phone, acting like nothing was wrong and idly scrolling through her various apps so as to look busy. In the process, she stumbled upon her gallery, finding her mass of Adrien images inside. It took up a majority of her pictures, and she found herself blushing in embarrassment rather than fondness.

Did she really have this many normally? How much time had she taken getting them?

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, thrown off by just how different she felt. The reaction to seeing Adrien that she'd normally have where she'd lose all focus had virtually disappeared, and the only reason she'd missed it at all was because it gave her an absurd amount of mental clarity concerning how she'd be acting otherwise.

Clarity...

The word brought a particular face to her mind: pink lips, blue eyes, and black hair highlighted blue at the tips. Marinette ran her fingers through her own hair, ruffling it as she tried to piece out how she was feeling. All she knew was that - whatever it was - it was significant and she didn't have Tikki to vent to.

Though perhaps she wouldn’t had much to provide anyway.

A mix of trepidation and curiosity filling her. Switching away from her gallery, she went back to her conversations and pulled up her texts with Luka. Despite her confusion over whatever was happening to her at the moment, she managed a smile at Luka's contact image staring fondly at her.

After a moment of consideration, she typed out:

Hey. Sorry if you're busy. Thought we could talk?

That done, she navigated back to her gallery to look at all her Adrien pictures. She shifted in her seat again, as if it would change things or help her mind adjust to the unfamiliar sensation. It wasn't like looking at Adrien didn't make her feel anything at all, but that feeling could only be described as "normal," like the way she saw him before he'd given her that umbrella.

Before she officially became a ladybug holder who agreed to protect the people of Paris...

Her lips twitched in hesitant thought, her thumb brushing against her screen as she skimmed through the assortment of Adrien pictures. Her brain registered a feeling - or rather, lack thereof - and the foreign emotions encouraged her to act.

She tapped the garbage can icon experimentally, a notification popping up accordingly and asking her if she'd like to delete the picture. She brought the phone closer to her chest, like she felt she was doing something wrong, yet there was only a second of pause before she confirmed the decision.

She watched as Adrien disappeared, a message indicating that the picture had been trashed.

Marinette blinked at the message until it had timed out, bringing her back to the gallery. She was frozen in place, her fingers twitching against the side of the phone as she processed what she'd just done.

Then, she did it again. She tapped on another picture of Adrien, a weird mix of eagerness and interest urging her thumb along as she pressed the garbage can icon again, confirming the decision just as quickly.

Just before the image disappeared, a stray thought said aloud in her mind: black hair and blue eyes would've worked better for an outfit like that.

This time, her body finally moved, a shudder going up her spine as she took in a breath. Her eyes darted over to her parents, knowing how strange this must look to them, but they weren't watching her anyway, meaning the moment was kept firmly in her own personal bubble. It was so odd; normally, someone would've seen her acting off, or laughed and made muttering comments about it.

But nothing was happening, and she didn't know whether to question it or not.

Marinette glanced back at her phone, almost challenging herself as she started to run through the assorted Adrien pictures. She could've thrown them in the metaphorical bin all at once, but instead, she went one-by-one. She waited for something to break, either a sense of regret to settle in over the deletion or for her heart to start fawning over the face on screen, but neither happened.

She was in control, and it felt good. Really, really good.

Part of her felt like she was being ridiculous. The idea of getting some kind of emotional high out of deleting a few pictures sounded stupid, and yet she felt powerful. It was like a veil had been lifted and suddenly she had choices.

If her parents saw her visibly vibrating in her seat, she didn't hear them make mention of it.

The only thing that made her snap out of her rapid thumb movements was a text notification at the top of her screen, and only due to the flash of black, blue, and white. Her lips curved into a smile, originally being pressed together in focus, and she clicked to open her text messages with Luka.

Hey, Marinette. I'm not busy at all. What's up?

She felt warm, knowing that the guy who always made her feel comfortable and happy was on the other line. it was such a shame that they hadn't been able to work it out because of Adrien.

Marinette paused just as she went to reply, those thoughts catching up to her as she remembered that day with Luka underneath the bridge. She'd been so sure that she'd had to break up with him because of Adrien, but as she purposefully tried to recall the memory, something registered like a mental fog clearing in her mind.

Hadn't it actually been her responsibilities as Ladybug that had done it? In fact, that added up alongside all of the other memories of his akumatization; she hadn't been ditching him during their dates out of discomfort or her crush on Adrien, but because of akuma and sentimonsters.

How could she have forgotten? Or rather, how could she have remembered otherwise?

Marinette just barely managed to snap herself out of her trance, her phone having dimmed from inactivity and the sight of her furrowed brows and worried frown staring back at her from the blackened screen. She blinked rapidly, then shook her head to clear herself of the unnerving thoughts.

Lighting her phone back up, she hurriedly typed back as she realized she'd left Luka on read, trying to ignore the way her thumbs shook.

Nothing much.

She hesitated, already seeing him typing back. Guilt burrowed around in her stomach, knowing very well that it was not "nothing" but being unable to properly convey what was going on to him when she didn't even understand it herself.

She typed again, his own typing ceasing to let her add to her comment.

Actually, I've been thinking a bit lately. I'm going to be in London for a while and I'm on the train ride there right now. It's given me some time to myself and it's... weird.

I'm sorry, I know that doesn't make sense.

Even though he hadn't replied, she knew he was taking her seriously as he was typing back.

It makes sense. Background music doesn't work for everyone.

Marinette realized that her shoulders had been tense when they relaxed at his message. She pressed her lips together, feeling vaguely like she didn't deserve him and pushing down the thoughts just as quickly. He'd never approve of that kind of talk.

My head's just been a bit of a mess. Or... not a mess? Things were really foggy but I didn't realize that they were? It's like I'm thinking clearer but I don't know if I like everything that came with that.

What was the phrase? Ignorance is bliss? She had no idea where these changes were coming from, but something had indeed changed and she didn't know the significance of it. She was indeed happy that she felt so in control now over her thoughts on Adrien, but why now? What caused it, and what about her memories?

Would it go away?

Marinette shuddered at the idea, but tried to focus on her conversation with Luka. Having a crisis wasn't going to do her any good, and he was there with her, even if only through text.

I can't know what you're going through, but I think I get it.

-

You do?

-

Yeah. Do you remember my birthday, when everyone heard about my dad being Jagged Stone?

He already continued typing, so she just nodded even if he couldn't see it. She'd only been with Juleka when the reveal had happened, but she imagined it'd been just as much of a shock for her as it'd been for them. She couldn't even imagine when Luka could've learned about it.

Wait--no, she'd already known, actually, hadn't she? He'd been akumatized and had gone after Jagged, and she'd been there when he forced Jagged to tell him the truth about being his father.

Marinette winced at the filling of a gap in her memory that she hadn't realized had been there. Once again, she'd remembered something that she couldn't fathom having forgotten or misremembered, even with how spotty her memory could be under normal circumstances.

She turned towards the back of her seat and the window, trying to isolate herself so it felt like just her, her phone, and Luka. She desperately needed his texts as a distraction.

I'd wanted to know who my dad was for so long, but learning that it was my favorite musician all this time was a lot. I had to redo all the notes I’ve ever written about him, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it for a while.

He kept typing after that, and she merely stroked the side of the phone with her thumb as some form of support, even knowing that he couldn't know about it.

But I'm glad I knew in the end. He's doing his best to make up for all the lost time, and I don't have to go on never knowing what that song would've sounded like.

Their situations weren't exactly the same, but it was enough to reach her deep down. Whatever her situation was, if it really did mean something, she'd rather know it was there than go on never knowing. She hated the idea of being left in the dark, just as she hated being lied to.

As she took a calming breath, she found it in herself to type back.

I'm glad you know too. You deserve people who make you happy, Luka.

-

Thank you, Marinette. You do too, and I hope that whatever you're going through goes at least as well as it did for me.

-

Thanks.

She bit her lower lip at her reply, which felt clipped in tone even though she hadn't meant it that way. She just had too much on her mind and it was hard to think about what emotion was coming across when she was typing to him.

She tapped away at the on-screen keyboard, hopefully before he could think anything in particular about it.

Sorry.

Though she wanted to explain further, she wavered, her legs bending as she curled further in on herself. The conversation had already been so deep and she didn't want to make it worse.

But just as she debated on dismissing her feelings and insisting that he not worry about her, the memories that had been cleared up from before came back to her, reminding her of a warm hug on top of a bridge.

"When you're ready, I'll be here, Marinette."

She inhaled shakily, but steadied herself immediately afterwards, letting the warmth of the words calm her. Luka was there for her and she trusted him.

She was ready.

...I'm scared, Luka. I thought I had my clarity, but I don't. Something's wrong.

Then, almost on cue, the train screeched to a halt, jostling her out of her seat as the lights went off. The simultaneous sound of phones ringing followed soon after.

—————

Marinette held her breath, crouched down in the restroom while she listened closely for the sound of her parents' footsteps. Her throat let out a whine, but she managed to keep it silent enough to where she was sure that no one on the other side of the door would hear it. She'd have to leave eventually or risk being cornered, courtesy of the power being off and the restroom's lock being electronic, but she felt safe enough to pull out her phone.

She also set it on vibrate just in case.

There was a reasonable concern at first that Luka's texts would indicate that he'd fallen victim to the akuma, but what she found when she checked their conversation reassured her.

Marinette!

Is everything okay?

Did the akuma's power reach you? Did they call you too?

Marinette?

The panic in simple letters on a screen made her feel noticed and loved. Keeping enough of her focus on potential footsteps approaching outside the door, she typed out a reply:

Sorry. I had to run from my parents.

I'm okay. What about you?

-

You're alright. I'm so glad.

I'm okay too. I hid somewhere and I doubt anyone can find me.

-

That's good. Be careful.

-

You too.

She took another breath, certain she'd be captured soon if the akuma wasn't taken care of. The train was limited and there weren't many places to go, so unless she could find a blunt object to smash her parents' phones, she was at a loss.

Regardless, Luka was there, her phone vibrating as he added onto his previous text:

I know this isn't the time, and I hate that the akuma cut into the song we were writing, but I'm here for you, Marinette. Whatever's going on, I'll help you figure it out as long as you want me with you.

Her heart fluttered pleasantly, a pink blush even tinting her cheeks. She welcomed it, unlike the fear that'd come with the changed memories. Feeling the way she did for Luka was too natural to be afraid in any way.

Thank you, so much. You're the only one I could trust with something like this.

She meant it. She'd trusted Alya with her identity in a moment of weakness, and even passed the ladybug earrings to her, yet that somehow paled in comparison to the emotions she was choosing to share. Luka would take her seriously, she was sure, even if she came up with the craziest theory in the world for why her feelings and memories were the way they were. He wouldn't doubt her, or laugh, or dismiss her as "Marinette being Marinette."

And as she sat there, completely without a miraculous or any way to get back to Paris without help, she reached up with her free hand and tugged at her earlobe, processing what she could with the information she had as one such theory started to form in her head. The fear from before never quite went away, but the idea of figuring things out with Luka brought her a sense of comfort.

Though perhaps, when she got back to Paris, she would take back her miraculous with a sense of hesitance that she hadn't had before, and there would be some testing that followed after the fact, because there were two things she refused to give up from her experience on the train.

Her sense of freedom and choice, and the feelings for Luka that she can't believe she ever questioned.

Or, if her working theory was correct, that her miraculous had her question.

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Avoidance

masterlist

part two

Summary: Reader doesn’t know what she did to make Spencer hate her so much.

A/N: This fic is just a reminder that sub!Spencer lives rent free in my head at all times. Also, if anyone would like to be on a taglist for one shots like these, let me know! I’m going to work on getting one started.

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom! reader

Content Warnings: honestly way too much swearing, sexual harassment, slapping, hands free orgasm, oral sex (male and female receiving), hand job, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, femdom 

Word Count: 8.2k

           I have absolutely no idea what I’ve done to make Spencer Reid hate me.

           Usually, when someone despises a person to the point of complete and total avoidance, there’s a reason. No one just wakes up and decides to resent another person for the hell of it – right? Wrong.

           Because Spencer Reid positively loathes me – and I have no idea why.

           It all started on my first day at the BAU. I had somehow landed the highly coveted job of media liaison after the previous one had decided to complete the training to be a profiler. For reasons unbeknownst to me, they thought a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college with no prior job experience was the best fit for the position. I didn’t understand it, but I also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

           To say that I had been terrified the first time I set foot into the bullpen would be the understatement of the century. After a very formal and very intimidating orientation with the unit chief, my predecessor, a beautiful blonde named Jennifer, offered herself up to be my personal tour guide. Jennifer introduced me to the other members of the team, and with every smiling face I came in contact with, my fears of being the odd man out were assuaged. I could tell that Penelope Garcia, tech analyst extraordinaire, would most likely be my biggest ally – and it was abundantly clear that Derek Morgan and I would probably get into a fair amount of mischief together. Elle Greenaway seemed like the obvious choice for a future drinking buddy, and Jason Gideon – well, he merely grunted at me in acknowledgment before retreating back to his office. I figured three out of four wasn’t so bad.

           I didn’t meet Doctor Spencer Reid until after lunch. Jennifer mentioned something about him guest lecturing at a local university, which surprised me considering she mentioned him being a year younger than me. Apparently, the kid was an actual genius, which was more than a little bit intimidating, but Jennifer assured me that Spencer was a sweetheart.

           “He’s a little quirky, but I’m sure you’ll love him. Just don’t be surprised if he tries to talk your ear off,” Jennifer laughs. “Last week I asked him about the weather and he went off on a tangent about climate change that lasted nearly an hour.”

           By the time Spencer strolled into the bullpen at exactly one in the evening, I was sitting perched atop Jennifer’s desk, thoroughly engrossed as she told me about their latest case. When she stops talking midsentence in favor of smiling at someone behind me, I half expect that Morgan is attempting to sneak up on me, when:

           “Hey, look who’s back,” Jennifer greets, prompting me to turn around excitedly. I was eager to put a face to the man I’d heard so much about.

           And when I turn, my eyes land on the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.

           Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline are framed by shaggy brown hair, complete with beautiful brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. As if his good looks weren’t enough, he’s dressed in the most adorably nerdy sweater vest and a pair of thin framed glasses. He’s absolutely precious – a fact that Jennifer had conveniently left out.

           “How was the lecture?” Jennifer asks him as he places his satchel on the desk adjacent to hers. Spencer perks up at this, smiling excitedly from across the divider.

           “I think it went really good, actually. I incorporated this really cool joke that I heard about quantum physics. Do you want to-”

           He stops abruptly when he realizes Jennifer isn’t his only spectator, and those lovely brown eyes go almost comically wide when they settle on me.

           “Spencer, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the new media liaison. Y/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

           I give him my best smile, tacking on a small wave for good measure.

           “It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Reid. Jennifer’s told me a lot about you.”

           “Uh, y-yeah. It’s n-nice to meet you, too,” Spencer stutters. He looks positively stricken and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t blinked in over a minute. I cast a glance at Jennifer, who seems just as confused as I am.

           Well, she had mentioned that he was a tad strange.

           “I’d like to hear the joke,” I offer, only to immediately regret it when I see him tense up.

           “N-No, that’s o-okay,” he chokes out as he struggles to gather the files on his desk. “It’s n-not that good, anyways.”

           And just as quickly as he came, Spencer leaves in a flurry of crumpled papers, leaving Jennifer and I wondering what the fuck just happened.

--

           Things didn’t get better with time. In fact, they got much worse.

           In the six months that I had been working for the BAU, I could count my interactions with Spencer Reid on one hand. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part – in my desperation to figure out what I’d done to make him avoid me, I sought out the young genius every chance I got. But every time I got within ten feet of him, it’s like an alarm would sound in his head and he’d make up some excuse to leave the room.

           The others had noticed his strange behavior, too. It seemed they all had made a sort of game out of it – calling Spencer into rooms that I was in just to see him panic, or asking me to personally deliver files to his desk. At first, I played into it, hoping that their teasing would help to diffuse some of the tension.

           After a month of being on the receiving end of Spencer’s cold shoulder, I started avoiding him, too.

           I tried to act indifferent – like it didn’t hurt me as badly as it did. I no longer sought him out, and by month two, we had a sort of understanding. I didn’t go near him, and he didn’t go near me, and that’s how it went on for four miserable months.

           Until today.

           “Reid, Y/L/N, you’re in 202.”

           I damn near drop my bag on the floor. This was bound to happen at some point or another, but I hadn’t planned on that day being today, and I was not prepared. After nine hours of running around the local police department, my body was weighed down from fatigue and I was downright grumpy. Not to mention I had picked the worst possible day to try and break in a new pair of heels, and my feet were throbbing.

           Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with Spencer Reid’s bullshit.

           “Uh, Hotch? Could I maybe room with Elle?” I ask, sending a glare in Morgan’s direction when he snorts out a laugh. Hotch raises an eyebrow at me.

           “Why? Is there a problem?”

           Yes, sir, there certainly is. And your guess is as good as mine as to what that problem is.

           “No, but I just think that-”

           “Good. Then you should be fine to share a room with him.”

           Right.

           I spare a brief glance at Spencer, who, in the last thirty seconds, has turned the color of a tomato. I pray that he’ll speak up and voice his discomfort, but just like always, he stays silent.

           Hotch doles out the room keys and I begin the trek down the hallway, my poor aching feet groaning in protest with every step. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, and it’s not until I swipe the key into the key card that Spencer speaks.

           But not to me – no, never to me.

           “Derek, please, I’m begging you. Just switch with me this one time, and – and I’ll do your reports for a month!”

           After six months of dealing with Spencer’s aversion to me, his words should come as no surprise. And really, I’d expected as much - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

           “Not happening, kid. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get over whatever problem you have with Y/N. I bet you’ll even end up liking her. She’s not going to be rude to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

           “… T-That’s not what I’m worried abo-”

           I don’t wait around to hear the rest of his sentence. I push open the door to the room, not bothering to wait for Spencer before closing it. I kick off my heels as soon as the door clicks shut, letting out a half relieved, half frustrated  groan.

           After claiming the bed nearest the air conditioner as my own, I pluck my pajamas and toiletry bag out from my suitcase and shuffle over to the bathroom. The way I see it, the quicker I get a shower and can go to sleep, the faster the night will pass. Before I know it, this unfortunate situation will be a thing of the past.

           After drawing out the shower for as long as I possibly could, I exit the bathroom clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, hair dripping wet and skin freshly scrubbed clean. Spencer’s sitting on his bed, book in hand and tie loosened. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk by - not that I’d expected him to. A thick silence hangs in the air as I pull a bottle of lotion out from my suitcase, and I debate turning on the TV just to make things slightly less awkward. In the end I decide against it, because I doubt even that could make this situation better.

           I prop a leg up on the bed and begin to lather my legs in cherry scented lotion, paying special care to my aching feet before moving on. It’s not until both of my legs have been thoroughly massaged and coated in lotion that I look up.

           Spencer’s eyes are locked on me, mouth hanging open and chest heaving up and down. His knuckles are white from how hard they’re clutching the book in his hands, but despite that I can still see the way they’re trembling. When he realizes I've caught him staring, he closes his mouth and gulps hard.

           I straighten up and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, and that’s enough for Spencer to snap his book shut and scramble off of the bed. He’s clumsy as he moves to his suitcase, dropping his bottle of travel shampoo twice before he reaches the bathroom. If I wasn’t so off put by whatever the hell had just happened, I might have thought it cute.

--

           As if the universe thought my current predicament wasn’t enough to deal with, the next morning I was dealt another shitty hand. This time, my distress came in the form of a young cop who couldn’t pick up on social cues to save his life. After an entire morning of dodging sleazy advances, I finally managed to shake him when his superior sent him out to go and actually do his fucking job.

           Or so I thought.

           I’m standing in the breakroom, pouring my fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee when I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall. I don’t know if I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things, or if I’m just particularly on edge today, but I know it’s the young officer before he can even cross the threshold.

           And when he does, and he sees that he has me cornered, a saccharine smile stretches across his lips.

           “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawls in an accent that could probably be attractive if he wasn’t so damn skeevy.

           “Might wanna get your eyes checked,” I mutter, refusing to look in his direction as I stir my coffee.

           “Pretty and feisty. Just how I like my women.”

           “I am not your anything,” I seethe, and instead of backing off like any respectful human being would, he just chuckles and begins to saunter towards me.

           “C’mon baby, you don’t have to be that way. You don’t have to act all professional with me.”

           “Don’t call me that.” I look at him now, and the smug, self-righteous smile on his face makes my blood boil.

           “You don’t like baby? That’s fine – I’m sure I can think of lots of other things to call you,” he murmurs. He’s closer now, so close that I can practically feel his breath against my neck.

           “I’m going to tell you to stop one more time, and it would be in your best interest to listen,” I growl.

           “Or what?” he taunts. “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I jolt forward when a hand comes down hard on my ass, squeezing me harshly through the material of my skirt.

           Oh, fuck no.

           I’m whirling around faster than I ever thought possible, and then a harsh crack sounds throughout the room as my hand comes in contact with his face.

           My hand stings from the contact, but the pain is welcome because he flies backwards, stumbling and grasping as his already reddening cheek.

           “What the fuck?” he roars, eyes flashing with unbridled fury. I take several steps towards him, and to my utmost delight he nearly trips over himself in his hurry to put distance between us. I stop when his back hits the wall and I lean in until our faces are only inches apart.

           “Listen here, you limp dick fuck,” I snarl. “I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of pathetic pieces of shit like you thinking they can put their hands on women. What’s your problem? Are you so fucking tactless that you can’t get anyone to fuck you?” I punctuate my question by jabbing my pointer finger into his chest and cocking my head to the side. “Are you so unappealing that the only way you can get your hands on a woman is to wait until she’s alone and try to corner her?

           Or is it a power thing? You’ve got the gun and the badge so you think you’re entitled to just take what you want, don’t you? You think no one can stop you because you’re in a position of power. Well, I have some news for you – I outrank you, and you just assaulted a federal agent. I will not stop until I ruin your fucking career, and if you even think of trying to lie your way out of this, I’ll do a helluva lot fucking worse. After the week I’m having, I am just looking for an excuse to kick your fucking dick into the dirt. Do you understand?”

           By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving up and down and my eyes are narrowed into slits. The officer is so angry that he’s shaking, hands balled up to fists at his sides. For a moment, I think he’ll try to hit me, but then his hard-exterior cracks and the anger gives way to fear.

           “You – You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, trying his best to sound menacing. But his voice wavers, and I can tell he’s losing his grip. “It’ll r-ruin my career.”

           I raise my hand up to his cheek, placing my palm over the red imprint I had left on his skin. And then I flash him the sweetest goddamn smile that ever there was.

           “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I give him a pat on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door, only to stop halfway when I see that I have an audience of one.

           Spencer stands in the doorway, a coffee mug gripped tightly in one hand, mouth agape and eyes wide. He’s standing stock still, eyes darting in between the police officer and me. I let out an exasperated sigh because of-fucking-course it would be Spencer that would happen to walk in on whatever that just was.

           “Close your mouth, Reid. That’s how you catch flies,” I deadpan, prompting Spencer to snap his mouth shut.

           Without another word, I brush past him and leave the break room.

--

           I suppose the universe had decided to finally give me a break, because that afternoon we were able to apprehend the unsub. But my good fortune only went so far, because Hotch announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning – which meant another night alone with Spencer Reid.

           He didn’t mention what he walked in on when the two of us arrived back at our room, and I didn’t expect him to. The two of us went about the motions of unwinding from the day in complete and utter silence, and by the time I emerge from the shower I decide that I’ve had enough.

           “I’m gonna go stay with Elle and Derek,” I murmur as I zip up my suitcase and slip on my shoes.

           “Oh. O-Okay.”

           And that was that.

           It’s about an hour later when my phone is on four percent that I realize I hadn’t remembered to bring my charger with me. I contemplate just letting it die, but the idea of sitting through a seven-hour jet ride tomorrow without it sounds excruciating. Then again, so does the idea of having to suffer through an interaction with Spencer.

           The phone wins out in the end, and with Derek and Elle still snoring softly in their respective beds, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. With any luck, Spencer will be in a similar state and I’ll be able to sneak in and out without him waking up.

           I think thank my lucky stars when I slowly crack open the door to Spencer’s room and see that the lights are off. I take special care to close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing across the carpeted floors, feeling my way around in the dark so that I don’t trip over anything.

I make it halfway across the room when I hear it – it’s quiet, and if the air conditioner had been on, I wouldn’t have even heard it at all. It’s faint, so faint that I wonder if I’d imagined it, but then that same sound breaks through the silence and I know it’s not a product of my imagination.

I hear the covers rustle, and then a low moan followed by the distinct sound of skin on skin. My blood runs cold as the moans grow louder and more frequent, rolling off Spencer’s lips in rapid succession. There’s heavy breathing and whimpering and holy fuck I just walked in on Spencer Reid masturbating.

Spencer cries out a particularly load moan, one that sounds so pornographic that it shoots straight to my core. It’s sexy and dirty and he sounds absolutely wrecked, and the part of my brain that is still capable of logical thinking is screaming get out! Get out, now!

I begin to slowly backtrack, moving at one tenth of the speed that I had coming in because the possibility of being caught is absolutely not an option. If Spencer hates me now, he’d really hate me if he found out I snuck into his room at night and heard… that.

I’m about five feet away from the door when:

“O-Oh my God, yes! Y/N, please - fuck!”

I think then that I certainly have to be dreaming, because there’s no way I’d just heard him correctly. There’s no way that Spencer – the same Spencer that scurried out of the room when I walked in – was moaning my name while he touched himself. Absolutely not.

But then it happens again and again and again – my name falling from his lips incessantly like some kind of debauched chant.

It feels like my skin is on fire – my mind a befuddled mess – and before my brain can tell me what a terrible idea it is, my feet are carrying me back into the room and I’m coming to a stop at the foot of Spencer’s bed.

Bathed in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window, Spencer looks ethereal. There’s a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, and his usually meticulously slicked back hair is fanned out on the pillow like some sort of halo. His teeth are nestled into his bottom lip now, and all that can be heard are tiny whimpers as his hand slides up and down underneath the bed sheets. Spencer’s always beautiful, almost painfully so. But the way he looks now, shadows dancing across his face as he works himself to orgasm, is infinitely more breathtaking than words can express.

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to release his lip from beneath his teeth, and when he does my name is flying out of his mouth once more.

I take that as my invitation to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”

Spencer’s entire body stills and his eyes fly open to reveal two dark pools full of sheer panic.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, moving to clutch the comforter to his chest in an attempt to cover himself.

I let out a hum and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Please do. I’m very interested in hearing about just what you were picturing me doing.”

Spencer sucks in a harsh breath. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning -desperately trying to concoct some kind of reasonable explanation.

“I-I… I don’t… I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, and it’s so adorable how he’s squirming underneath my gaze that I decide to help him out.

“Was I sucking you off? Or were you fucking me?” I wonder aloud. He tries to hide it, thinking the covers will mask the way that his hips buck up, but I definitely see it.

“I-I…”

“Which was it, Spencer? Was I taking you down my throat or were you fucking my pussy? Or maybe I was coming undone on your face – was that it?”

Spencer lets out a low groan, and if my patience hadn’t been running so fucking thin, I probably would’ve left it at that. But after the hell he’d put me through for the last six months, I feel like he deserved to squirm a little.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Y-You were, um… r-riding me. And you s-slapped m-me.”

Oh.

This just got a lot more interesting.

I raise an eyebrow at him and I can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.

“So, you liked what you saw today, did you?”

Spencer nods so fervently that I have to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

“Words, baby. Use them.”

“I-I liked it. A lot.”

“Apparently so, seeing as you were moaning for it like a desperate little slut,” I breeze, my tone cool and indifferent. “Have you done this before, Doctor? Touched yourself to the thought of me, that is.”

“… Y-Yes. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to. It just kind of happened one night, and once I started, I couldn’t s-stop.”

I reach out a hand and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face, tucking it back behind his ear before continuing.

“Why the cold shoulder, then? And here I thought you hated me,” I muse, before pausing and cocking my head to the side. “Do you hate me, Doctor?” I ask, and just when I thought he couldn’t look more guilty, he proves me wrong.

“No! I just… couldn’t be around you. I felt so b-bad. You were so nice, and I was using you to g-get off,” Spencer explains. “I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not after picturing you… like that.”

I let out a sigh. Knowing that Spencer didn’t actually hate me for the last six months was a relief. Knowing that Spencer was secretly rubbing one out to me was something else entirely. Whatever was I to do with this information?

“So, you want to fuck me, then?” I reiterate. “Why not tell me this sooner?”

“The probability of you responding positively to me telling you that I, uh, m-masturbate to you was very l-low. And after what I saw today, I think I was wise for keeping that from you,” Spencer says, the last part coming out in a rush. I can’t help but let out a low laugh.

“Yes, but the guy that was coming on to me today wasn’t someone I find attractive. He was pompous and crass and pushy - and you, Doctor Reid, are none of those things.”

“R-Really? You think I’m attractive?”

I hum.

“Very much so, Doctor. But I’m afraid you may have waited too long, and now I don’t feel as inclined to be nice,” I murmur, allowing my hand to trail down from his shoulder to his collar bones before lightly grazing his nipple with my thumb.

“O-Oh my… God,” Spencer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers continue to dance across his skin.

“But then again, I don’t think you really want me to be nice to you. I think you want me to treat you like my little play thing.” I stop my hand just below his navel and I thumb across the light layer of hair that makes up his happy trail. “You want to be my dirty boy - don’t you, Doctor Reid?”

“P-Please,” Spencer chokes out, hips jerking up when I allow my thumb to graze a little lower.

“Please what?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan.

“Please, I-I want you to u-use me. However you want, just as l-long as you just do-don’t stop touching me,” he rambles. He’s shuddering underneath me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as my hand wanders lower and lower until I abruptly pull away. “W-Why did you stop?”

“Because I don’t think you deserve to be touched just yet. You’ve got six months to make up to me, after all. I think I want you on your knees for me first,” I say, and from the way his eyes seem to dilate even further, I don’t think he has any objections. “Are you familiar with the color system?”

Spencer nods.

“Green for good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop now.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“I… I’ve never really, uh. Done t-this.”

Oh. Oh.

I withdraw my hand from its place on his leg and Spencer lets out a distressed whine. “No, please! Don’t go. I’m not a complete virgin, I promise. I got a h-hand job once,” he argues. “And I think I’ve done enough, uh, research, and I really want to try to make you cum. I want to be good for you. Please let me try.”

Spencer looks like he’s about two seconds away from crying, and I can feel my argument dying before it even leaves my mouth.

“Oh, baby, I know you’d be so good,” I coo, and just like that Spencer’s leaning towards me, desperate to have the contact. I indulge him, placing my hand on his cheek, and he relaxes into the touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I’m not what anyone would call vanilla, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I trust you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” Spencer whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I feel my resolve crumbling.

“You’ll let me know if at any point you want to stop?”

“Yes. Absolutely!”

Enthusiastic little shit.

“Safe word?”

“Um… Tolstoy?”

I let out a snort.

“Alright, smarty pants. We’re going to start now, okay?”

“Yes, Miss,” Spencer pants out.

Fuck me running. He clearly has been doing his research.

“Get on your knees for me, baby. I wanna see just how eager to please you are,” I instruct as I stand up and shimmy out of my shorts. I discard my shirt, too, absentmindedly throwing it somewhere across the room. Spencer lets out a startled squeak when he sees that I’m now completely naked, aside from my underwear.

“Y-You’re so pretty,” Spencer breathes out. “Even better than I imagined.”

The sentiment tugs at my heart, really, it does, but I specifically requested that he get on his knees and he seems a lot more content to just sit and stare.

“On your knees,” I command, and Spencer jumps up almost comically fast.

“S-Sorry, Miss,” he apologizes as he lowers himself down. I seat myself on the edge of the bed and spread my legs for him.

“Don’t apologize, just do as I ask of you, okay baby?”

Spencer nods.

“C-Can I kiss you? Like on the lips first?” Spencer asks as he looks up at me with big doe eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, the image of Spencer Reid sitting in between my legs, cheeks flushed and chest rapidly rising and falling. I give Spencer a sweet smile and lean forward, and the excitement radiating off of him is practically palpable. He leans forward, too eager to wait for me to close the gap, and the action makes my chest swell in adoration.

Just as our lips are about to meet, I pause, and Spencer barely has the time to look confused before my palm connects with the side of his face. The moan it draws out of him is obscene and his hips jolt forward, desperate for some kind of friction. His dick rests painfully hard between his legs, flushed red with precum beading at the tip.

I waste no time in taking his chin in my hand and tilting his head upwards.

“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask him, voice sugary sweet, contrasting starkly with my actions.

“N-No, Miss. I’m sorry,” Spencer pants out. His hand twitches at his side and I can see how desperately he wants to touch himself, but his desire to please keeps him still.  

“Then the answer is no. Maybe if you can prove to me that you aren’t completely incompetent at eating pussy, I’ll consider it,” I allow a moment for my words to sink in. “Color?”

“Green. So fucking green,” Spencer whines.

“Good boy,” I praise him, and the effects of my words are instantaneous. Spencer rests his cheek against the skin of my thigh and then he’s nuzzling his face against me in a silent plea for permission. After a moment, his pleas become a lot less silent.

“Wanna be your good boy - please let me,” Spencer begs as his nose brushes against my skin. “I want to make you feel good. S’all I ever think about, since the first time I saw you.”

His words send a jolt of pleasure to my core and I reward his brazen honesty with a tender smile and a nod.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

The words barely have time to leave my mouth before Spencer is reaching out and hooking a finger underneath the waistband of my panties. I raise up off the bed just enough for him to slide them down my legs, and before I even manage to settle back down onto the bed, Spencer literally dives in. He starts with one long lick, and by the time he reaches my clit he’s crying out lewd moans against me. The feel of the vibrations mixed with the feel of his mouth on me is maddening in the best possible way, and my eyelids threaten to flutter closed under the weight of my pleasure.

“Fuck, baby – you’re doing so good,” I sigh as I lift my hand up and card my fingers through his hair. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

Spencer’s movements stutter when he feels my hand tangle itself into his hair, and I let out a light chuckle. I grab hold of the roots and give an experimental tug. My actions cause his hips to jolt forward violently.

“O-Oh my…” Spencer keens, raising his glossy, lust filled eyes to mine. “H-Harder, please.”

I oblige, and Spencer lets out a particularly filthy groan before lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. His hands come to wrap around my thighs and he pulls me closer to him, causing me to let out a gasp when his nose nudges against my clit. The sound only spurs him on further – Spencer begins assaulting my clit, alternating between short, kitten licks and light sucking. The control I had so adamantly been asserting over him began to slip from my fingertips the longer he worked his mouth against me, and quiet, breathy moans started falling from my lips.

“Such a good boy, Spence,” I moan as I scratch my fingernails against his scalp. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Love that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Spencer thrives on the praise – that much is made obvious by the way he whimpers and tightens his grip on my thighs. He’s completely submitted himself to the act of getting me off, only stopping long enough to cry out when my hands give a particularly harsh tug on his hair.

“Add a finger, baby,” I tell him, allowing my hand to drift down the side of his face, caressing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Spencer releases my thigh from his hold and tentatively raises a hand to my entrance, eyes raising to meet mine.

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” he asks, and his concern is so endearing that I tilt his chin upwards and lean forward until my lips meet his.

Spencer gasps into the kiss, shocked, but it doesn’t take him long before his lips are moving against mine fervently. His lips are slick with my arousal, and I dart my tongue out just long enough to swipe it across his bottom lip.

           “D’you like how I taste, baby?” I murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly when Spencer tries to bring his lips down against mine.

           “S-So much,” he whispers, before letting out a frustrated groan when I tease him with the slightest brush of my lips before pulling away again. “P-Please, kiss me again.”

           I bump my nose against his before I reach down and grab his hand in mine.

           “Don’t be a greedy boy, Spencer. Greedy boys don’t get to cum,” I chastise him as I raise his hand up to my mouth. I trace my bottom lip with his pointer finger as Spencer watches on in rapt fascination, before taking the digit into my mouth and sucking. Spencer chokes out a pathetic cry and his hips hopelessly buck into the air as I swirl my tongue around the pad of his finger, taking special care to coat it with spit before releasing it from my mouth.

           I guide his hand back down to my pussy, gasping when the tip of his finger brushes across my entrance.

           “Just take it slow, baby. Start with one and move up to two once you get the hang of it.”

           Spencer nods, eyes alternating between my face and my entrance as he slowly slides his finger in me.

           “You’re so warm, oh my God,” Spencer breathes out, tentatively pulling out his finger before inserting it back in. I hum appreciatively as he begins to move faster, eyelids fluttering shut when he lowers his head and begins languidly licking my clit.

           “Feels so nice, Spence. I fucking love your fingers. Knew that they’d feel like this. I can only imagine how good your cock will feel,” I ramble, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other tugging on his honey brown hair.

           I groan as he inserts a second finger, reveling in the way he’s stretching me out.

           “Curl your fingers when you – fuck! Just like that, baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep doing t-that.”

Spencer speeds up both the onslaught of his fingers and his mouth at my admission, tongue working figure eights on my clit while his fingers brush up against my g-spot. A familiar warmth starts to spread in my lower belly, and with every swipe of Spencer’s tongue against my clit, the coil in my stomach winds tighter and tighter until, finally:

“O-Oh, fuck, Spence!”

The coil snaps, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my core. I can feel the way my walls tighten around Spencer’s fingers as my orgasm rips through me, never stopping their ministrations in an attempt to help me ride out my high. Vibrations ripple across my clit when Spencer lets out a cry of his own before his movements halt completely as shudders wrack his body.

I know he didn’t just…

           I allow myself a moment to recover before I lean forward and drag my eyes down Spencer’s slender frame – and sure enough, his tummy is covered in white ropes of cum and his now softening cock is hanging limply between his legs.

           Spencer’s eyes reluctantly open when his shudders cease, and one look at my pissy expression is enough to send him into a fit.

           “I-I didn’t mean to cum! I’m so sorry, Miss. It’s j-just that you looked so pretty when you came, and you taste so good! And you were pulling my hair, and you called me a good boy and I just couldn’t do it anymo-”

           “Shut up,” I seethe, voice cold and laced with annoyance. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to come. Am I mistaken?”            “N-No, Miss.”

           “Mm, that’s what I thought,” I hum. “Stand up.”

           “B-But I want to make you cum again! Can I plea-”

           “Shut the fuck up and stand up, Spencer.”

           Spencer rushes to his feet, stumbling a bit when his legs begin to shake. He corrects himself, standing perfectly still in front of me with a shameful look on his face. I scoot back on the bed and fix him with a stony look.

           “I want you to lay on your stomach across my lap. Can you do that, Doctor Reid, or are you too stupid to follow simple directions?”

           Spencer adamantly shakes his head, scrambling to splay out across my bare thighs. Once he’s comfortable, I raise a palm to his bare ass cheek and smooth my hand across the skin.

           “Color?”

           “G-Green,” Spencer stutters out.

           “Wonderful. Since you’ve decided to be a greedy little slut and cum before I gave you permission, I’m going to punish you. Do you remember your safe word, baby?”

           “Tolstoy.”

           “Good boy. I’m going to give you ten, and I want you to count them out for me. One for every month you held out on me, and four because you’re an insolent little whore who can’t do as he’s told. Does that sound fair to you?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. P-Please.”

           A harsh smack sounds throughout the room, and Spencer lets out a whorish moan that’s bound to wake the people in the neighboring rooms. The pale skin of his ass transforms to red, and I rub my palm across it soothingly.

           “O-One,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as he rocks his hips against my legs.

           “You okay, baby?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. Please don’t stop. I deserve it. P-Punish me, please.”

           My palm comes down across his ass four more times, and with each strike I watch Spencer fall apart right before my eyes. Tears are gliding down his flushed cheeks, and his cock is now painfully hard against my legs.

           “Five more to go, baby. Keep counting for me, my pretty boy.”

           By the time my hand comes down against his flesh for the final time, Spencer has devolved into a mess of pathetic whimpers. His cock is smearing precum across my thighs as he rocks against me, and his ass is covered in a litany of bright red marks. Incomprehensible pleas are falling from his lips, and his hands are tightly fisted in the sheets.

           I lean forward and place a gentle kiss to each of his battered cheeks.

           “T-Thank you, Miss. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

           “You’re welcome, baby. Can you go lay in the center of the bed for me?”

           Spencer gives a feeble nod and crawls to the center of the bed, carefully laying himself down and letting out a low hiss when his ass came in contact with the mattress.

           I let him rest against the sheets before I roll over and settle in between his legs.

           Spencer’s cock, painfully hard and leaking precum, sits against his belly. Spencer watches as I trace lithe fingers up his thigh, his chest rising and falling quickly as I get closer to where he demands my attention.

           A garbled groan rips from his throat when my hand grasps his cock, and I have to place my other hand on his hip and force him back down onto the bed when he tries to buck up.

           “Stay still, baby,” I tut as I drag my fist up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

           “S-Sorry, M-Miss,” Spencer stutters. His brows are drawn together and his eyes are heavy lidded. “Need m-more, please.”

           “Mm, I don’t think you need more. You just want more. Dumb little greedy baby,” I tease as my thumb swipes across his head.

           “Oh… G-God, please!” Spencer mewls.

           “Is what I’m giving you not good enough?”

           “N-No, it’s just-”

           I raise an eyebrow at him and halt my movements.

           “No, it isn’t good enough?”

           Spencer lets out a frustrated groan and his fists clench the sheets.

           “P-Please, Miss! I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Just let me cum, please, I want it so bad!”

           Thoroughly pleased by his shameless begging, I start moving my hand again.

           “Let me know when you’re about to cum, baby.”

           That moment comes when, not thirty seconds later, the muscles in Spencer’s abdomen start to spasm – telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Spencer is so lost in the way my hand is moving against his cock that he makes no move to warn me, and just as I see his eyes start to flutter shut, I withdraw my hand.

           “W-Why did yo-”

           “You didn’t tell me you were about to cum. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy, Spencer? You sure aren’t acting like someone who wants to cum.”

           “S-Sorry, please, just… fuck!”

           Spencer’s whole-body folds in on itself when my mouth wraps around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered before I pull away.

           “You’ve got such a pretty cock, baby. Can’t believe nobody’s had you in their mouth yet,” I murmur, pausing to drag my tongue along the veiny underside of his erection. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna know how much you like when I use my mouth on you.”

           “Love it so much, oh God… Feels so warm and wet. Thank you so much, Miss. God, it feels perfect,” Spencer keens as I take him into my mouth again. Mumbled praises fall from his lips as I take him deeper, and the second my nose hits the soft skin of his belly, Spencer’s hand comes up and begins to tap incessantly on my shoulder.

           “S-Stop! I-I’m close – Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking close and I really want to cum inside you, i-if that’s okay with you,” Spencer babbles, eyes wide and pleading. I smile up at him.

           “Do you think you deserve to cum in my pussy?”

           “H-Honestly, no, but I’m hoping you’ll let me anyways,” Spencer says, shooting me an adorably shy smile that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I let out a light laugh and shake my head, moving to straddle his lap.

           “Are you sure you want to do this, Spence?” I murmur as I caress the side of his face with my hands. “This can stop right here, if you want it to.”

           “Please, Miss. I want this. I want you,” Spencer reiterates, eyes shining and filled to the brim with adoration.

           “Want you, too, baby. You can call me my name now, if you want,” I say as I place a gentle kiss on his lips. I move to pull away, but Spencer’s hand is quick to grasp the back of my neck and pull me back in.

           While our lips move together, frenzied and desperate, I sneak a hand in between our bodies and grab Spencer’s cock. He gasps into my mouth as I drag his head in between my folds.

           “I-I won’t last long,” Spencer chokes out, eyes trained on where I’m rubbing him against me. “I’ll try my b-best, but I’m sorry if I c-cum too fast.”

           I sink down just enough that his head is the only thing inside me, watching as his face contorts beautifully as a result.

           “Don’t worry about me, baby. Tonight’s all about you.”

           With one last, chaste kiss to his lips, I slowly begin to lower myself down onto his length. The sound of our moans fill the room as Spencer clings desperately to me, hands finally finding purchase on my hips.

           “Y/N, fuck, you feel so good,” Spencer whimpers as I begin to slowly rock against him. “I-I knew it would feel good, but oh my God. I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum, soon. M’so sorry.”

           His admission prompts me to move faster, raising my hips until he’s almost completely out of me before I’m slamming back down.

           “Spence, you feel so good. Such a good boy – my good boy.”

           “Yes, yes, I’m all yours! Only yours, please!” Spencer whines. I lean forward, and the change of angle is enough for both of us to cry out.

           “Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me, Spence?” I murmur into his ear, biting lightly against his earlobe. “I want you to cum in me, baby. Don’t you want to be my good boy?” I punctuate my words by lightly wrapping my hand around this throat and squeezing, and that’s all it takes for Spencer to completely fall apart underneath me. 

           “Y/N - fuck!”

           Spencer’s grip on my hips tightens as he bucks up into me, painting the inside of my pussy with his cum as he yells out strangled exclamations of my name. He presses his face into my shoulder as I ride him through his orgasm, whispering quiet thank yous and pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin as the euphoria floods through his body.

             I place a kiss to his forehead before I crawl off of him, having every intention of getting up and procuring a wet washrag. But Spencer reaches out to grip my arm, and his eyes look so sad that I stop in my tracks.

           “C-Can you stay? Please?”

           The insecurity in his voice tugs at my heart.

           “Of course, I’m staying. Was just gonna get a wet washrag for us. M’not gonna leave you, Spence,” I murmur. Spencer visibly untenses, but his grip on my arm doesn’t lessen.

           “Could you just stay here a little bit longer?”

           “Sure thing, baby,” I say, prompting Spencer’s lips to pull up into a pleased smile. I crawl back into the bed and lay on my back, and Spencer instantly plasters himself to my side. He hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around me, and I let out a light laugh when I catch him stealing glances at me.

           “What is it, baby?”

           A rosy blush spreads across his cheeks.

           “Can I kiss you?”

           After everything we just did, he still feels the need to ask permission to kiss me. What a sweet boy.

           My answer comes in the form of me pressing my lips to his, and that’s how we stay until he pulls away.

           “I have another question,” he says shyly.

           “Lay it on me, baby.”

           The blush on his cheeks gets significantly more pronounced.

           “It’s just that, uh, you didn’t get to cum again. And I really want you to, because you took such good care of me,” Spencer pauses, and his fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh. “C-Could I please eat you out again?” Another pause, and he retracts his hand. “I-It’s okay if not. I understand if you just wanted this to be… a one-time thing. I guess I was just kind of hoping that it w-wouldn’t be. But that’s silly – you were just doing me a favor. I’m sorry I asked.”

           Spencer cringes as he finishes speaking, not even giving me a chance to reply before he’s trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his arm, and Spencer gives me a weary look.

           “First of all, I don’t think I would ever say no to being eaten out – especially if you’re the one offering. Second, this is definitely not a one off. I have lots of plans for you, pretty boy,” I explain, and the relief that radiates off of Spencer is almost palpable.

           “Thank God,” he sighs, and then he’s scooting down the bed and settling in between my legs.

--

           And if the rest of the team notices the way Spencer starts following me around like a lost puppy - well, they’re all kind enough not to point it out.

[kinixuki]

Exciting times with routine medical checkup, featuring Siva and Narya being absolutely thrilled, and that’s even before they got to know each other more, which means them getting 1000% more annoyed with each other.

Also hey! Let’s test sharing a small writing snippet under the cut, happening a little bit after this scene. Pls enjoy my wonky grammar.

---

“You said you had a training right before this?” the doctor asked while examining him through the intricate looking lenses.

“Yes,” Narya, now seated on the examination table, nodded. “With master Angus.”

“Endurance management I assume,” the doctor said, writing down notes from the measurement without looking back up at Narya.

“I… think so,” Narya replied. He wasn’t actually sure how it was called, but this seemed close enough.

“The fish flow is pretty low compared to your usual numbers, but if I didn’t have those it would be hardly noticeable, going by the numbers others generally have. Seems like they were right to get you into that group.”

Narya frowned in anticipation of another monologue of how useful his powers were for whatever purpose the masters needed him. It always started with something like this.

“You don’t like being there?” the doctor asked instead, raising his eyes from the notes.

“I- it’s my first week there,” Narya stuttered, confused by the doctor’s words being something different than he expected. “I’m just not used to those being more difficult than the trainings we had until now…”

The doctor’s question surprised him. The masters, save for Cornelius, barely asked him if he liked anything. And if he said that he didn’t, it hardly mattered to the masters anyway. Cornelius would start explaining why none of it actually mattered, but it didn’t make much sense. Still, as a result of that Narya now barely thought about if he did or didn’t like anything. It seemed to be what the masters expected from him.

“You will need what you learn there to be able to keep up out in the city,” the doctor said. “The places you will be sent to are decided according to your abilities, so you will be expected to handle a harder load than some other soldiers.”

“I know,” Narya replied, though he was aware that he frowned even more, with his fingers digging deeper into the leather of the examination table. He didn’t want to have things more difficult than others. He wasn’t sure if he could manage that.

The doctor observed his reaction with a blank expression. With how cold and distant the doctor’s behavior otherwise seemed it took Narya a while to realize that he actually did respond, by making a pause for him to recover.

“I’m sorry,” Narya mumbled, turning his eyes towards the ground.

“I’m not the one you should apologize to,” the doctor objected. “You’re going get yourself hurt or worse if you don’t follow what the masters are trying to teach you.”

Narya gulped as he quickly caught on what was the doctor suggesting.

What a strange doctor. There was something about the odd combination of the casual, almost indifferent tone, and the stern look he was giving him, that left Narya confused. Then again, at least it didn’t make him angry like any time with Cornelius lately.

[genshin-impact-fics]

Streamer!Genshin Reacting to Character!(Y/N) Dying in Game

!Warning!: Major character deaths & angst

Characters: Diluc, Venti, Childe, & Zhongli

Diluc:

It was a race to get inside one of the bases of the Abyss Order to put a stop to whatever plans they were in the process of executing that could potentially put many lives in danger. Diluc was rather calm while playing though it would be a lie to say that it wasn’t a bit annoying that the route to the domain was timed

It was once inside the domain did things pick up fast as it seemed to be a fighting wave system which after beating the first two rooms there was a short scene where in the end Lisa and Amber stayed behind to hold off the incoming enemies so the rest of the group could go further. It seemed like forever doing some of the puzzles to unlock the doors to reach the next fight

In that fourth room after the defeat of hilichurls and abyss mages did suddenly a short cut scene appear to show the appearance of an Abyss Lector. As remembering how much he hated fighting this guy in the spiral abyss he already knew what he was in for; however that was until your character stepped forward with your weapon ready. Diluc was actually sad to have to leave you behind as he was hoping that you’d be one of the characters that went with him to the very end

“I think I’ve watched enough shows and movies to know what this could be leading up to.” He’d comment to his viewers as he finally reached the destination where the Abyss Herald was. Finishing the fight triggered another cutscene as the traveler’s sibling appeared and was making their small speech, asking if the lives of the “friends” the traveler made were worth losing

Diluc is watching with a straight face as he kinda expected this but the who was what he wasn’t sure about and truthfully the only one he’d be truly heartbroken about is your death, but they wouldn’t kill you now of all times right? Wrong; soon the cutscene finally came across where they had left you and you were leaning against the wall extremely injured with your weapon laying beside you. Diluc is frowning cuz he has to watch you die now

Listening to your final words as you spoke to no one Diluc would sulk in his chair a little. In the last moment before your eyes closed, if you mentioned something about not getting to tell his character your true feelings it is visible that Diluc looks like he wants to cry(but he doesn't). Once the screen showed the mission complete he’d grab the plush he had of your character and hold it looking at his camera. “Of all the characters I thought were going to die, I wasn’t ready for it to be (y/n).” At that point he’d probably call it a day from there but he’d still talk to his viewers as he probably would watch the tribute videos that fans had already made

Venti:

Everything was in chaos as it looked like archon war 2 was going to be taking place, but this time it was a war between the Abyss Order and the Archons. He was heading to Mondstadt to help and to check on you. Dvalin was flying around sending attacks at the abyss members. “Ah traveler there you are!” The sound of your voice as you landed before him; as weird as it was to see you in your archon robes was odd but you looked so good! After a short conversation you had gone flying off and it was time to get back to fighting

Things were looking good as it seemed like they were winning against the abyss order though it wasn’t over yet. It was until up in the air did a cutscene starting showing you and the traveler’s sibling fighting going at it. Venti is so captivated by how serious and cool you look fighting, but it all changed when the sibling landed a blow that caused you to fall from the sky ending up falling into the Whispering Woods

Venti couldn’t run fast enough to get to the woods to check up on you but when he did the first thing he saw was the sibling standing before you. He’s already sad and yelling at the sibling for hurting you though it seemed that now he was there the sibling went and disappeared revealing the real condition you were in. “No, no, no! This better not mean (y/n)’s dying.” He’d say in denial as he’s already starting to cry a little

“A-Ah Windblume h-haha… Sorry you have to see me like this.” Even in a moment like this you gave him such a cheesy grin until you seemed to grimace in pain. “Unfortunately it seems like… This is it for me. As long as the winds blow I will always be with you, so please watch over Mondstadt for me.” Your words were making Venti cry as it was like back in your story quest but only ten times worse. And to think it was already painful as it was your next words that did him in. “Maybe in another life we will find each other again and maybe then we can be together.”

Watching you start to glow until you turned into partials of light till nothing of you was left, Venti is devastated. The chat is crying with him as he’s saying how awful it was that his sibling had killed the love of his life! His viewers are going to send him fanart and fics to look at that was an alternative that you lived in the game

Childe:

It was a big fight with the confrontation of the Fatui Harbingers, facing off against one of the other stronger members that blocked the path to proceed to seeing the Tsaritsa. The boss’ first stage was fine; however during the second stage it seemed after losing a certain amount of health the damage that Childe was dealing significantly decreased.

It was when the cutscene started that Childe was already dreading the foul legacy form he’d be facing this time. You suddenly came out of nowhere and already in your foul legacy form yourself Childe is going crazy over how cool you look; he’s also swooning at the fact that you’ve come to his rescue. The fighting progressed until you landed a successful hit that weakened the other harbinger; however, at that same time the other harbinger managed to hit you with a powerful attack

Childe is screaming at the sight of your mask breaking while you fell to the ground. He’s so glad that his character is running over to check on you instead of the fight picking right up, but he’s already feeling the feels hit him hard cuz he hates seeing you hurt. Seeing you back to normal, the damage you sustained was really bad; then the worst thought came to his mind. “This-This better not be what I think it is,” he’s saying not looking away from the screen listening to you weakly talk

“Haha don’t give me that look sweetie, I couldn’t just let this be where your journey ends.” Hearing those words and the nickname you used for his character was sad. “To think we’d be able to travel together more, but hey… Promise you won’t stop fighting and could you look after my siblings for me.” Childe is literally crying now that the reality of the situation is clear. If he gets a choice of dialog to choose from he is going to pick the choice that says that he pinky promises

If your character smiled at the choice he wanted to smile but he’s also just sad, you were dying in his character's arms. If you had given a small love confession in the little bit of life that was in you, he’s going to ugly sob and once the fight was starting again he needs to pause by going into his bag

Immediately he goes getting his big plush of you and coming back to hug it and cleaning his tears with his sleeve before looking at the camera. “I wasn’t ready for this, my baby!” He was not expecting to be losing you; he figured that some characters would possibly die but you were the last character he thought would be killed off in the game. There’s Fs in the chat all around and the crying emote; it’s sad boi hours in this chili’s. He doesn't wanna do the fight but also he gotta avenge you so this last stage fight was for you. Afterwards he’s gonna go look at fanart and video edits

Zhongli:

After helping some of the other nations and their archon’s fend off the abyss order it was time he headed to Liyue to find you. Of course as usual it wasn’t going to be as easy as running around the harbor until he got word from Xiao that you were in Cuijue Slope. So he headed over to help you before anything seriously bad could happen to you

Getting to the open area there you were fighting against the sibling as you were even in your archon robes. Going in and interrupting the fight his sibling clearly looked annoyed and proceeded to try to get him to side with them which of course he didn’t. A Herald appeared to allow the sibling to get away which the fight with the Herald commenced

Just when Zhongli finished up the fight thinking he had won it strangely went to a cutscene as his character and you started to talk; however it was when the fallen Herald came out of nowhere about to attack his character but must to his surprise you shielded him not only taking the hit, but also using your elemental burst to finish off the enemy. Zhongli is frowning at how badly you were hurt as he already has a bad feeling this wasn’t going to end good; the traveler was helping you sit up after having fallen over

“I’m glad to see that you aren’t hurt my friend.” You said as you certainly have seen better days. “Sadly I believe my time has come… Do not be sad dear friend, I have lived many many years… As knowing you has been life changing. Though rocks change from erosion, know that no time will change how I felt about you.” Your words broke his heart as you had such a soft expression on your face as your body began to glow and before he knew it you turned into particles of light and disappeared. He probably wouldn’t cry at most maybe a tear but he is clearly upset about your passing in game and would take a break to talk to his viewers and maybe look at the fanart that surprisingly had been put out already

[sacredsorceress]

Say Yes || Bucky Barnes

pairing: 40s!bucky barnes x rogers!reader

summary: after receiving your brother’s blessing, bucky barnes finally finds the courage to ask you a very important question 

a/n: another addition to the bucky barnes x rogers!reader collection- reblogs and replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 2.3k

warnings: none, fluff

masterlist || request || taglist

1941

Feeling the cool breeze of the spring day surrounding you, you began to grow annoyed as Bucky stopped short, slipping his hand out of yours to wipe them on his pants for the fifth time that afternoon.

Wrapping your cardigan, tighter around you, you sighed.

“Is everything alright, Buck?” You asked.

“What?” He asked, squinting up at you, brushing his hands on his bottoms. “Yeah, yeah, doll. Everything’s fine. It’s just hot today.”

Watching as another cool gust of wind swept through his hair, you eyed him warily.

Bucky has been acting strange in the past two weeks since the night your brother, Steve, had discovered your relationship leading to a punch being thrown and shouting that you were sure woke the neighbors. However, your brother had assured you after coming back inside from speaking to his best friend alone that everything was fine and that they had worked out their differences. 

He promised you that you had nothing to worry about.

If that was the case, you couldn't understand why Bucky was acting so... odd. You had known Bucky since before you could even remember and although he was your brother’s best friend, you had always been able to read him like a book. You couldn’t place a single reason why he had been behaving so anxiously the past few weeks or why he had suddenly become so nervous spending time alone with you.

“Did... did Steve say something to you?” You found the courage to ask your partner.

“Huh?” He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I told you, doll. Steve and I talked it all out.”

When you said nothing else, keeping your arms crossed and only turning your head to the side to instead watch the couple having a picnic on the grass nearby, Bucky began to grow nervous that he messed up.

“Why?”

Facing your partner once again, you threw your hands in the air with a groan.

“I don’t know, Buck!” You exclaimed. “You’ve just been acting so weird. Just talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong!”

Bucky swore he could feel the color drain from his face.

He didn’t think you had noticed his newfound behavior- or at least hoped you hadn’t.

Ever since he had asked Steve for your hand in marriage two weeks ago and he said yes, Bucky had been nervously searching for the perfect moment. He had known he wanted to marry you since one month into your relationship (and knew you were it for him even earlier than that), so he had expected to be overjoyed and relieved upon finally receiving your brother’s permission, but instead it had only made the reality that you could say no to him even more real. 

He hadn’t even thought of that possibility until the opportunity to ask you was finally in his hands.

He wanted more than anything to finally be married to you- he knew he couldn’t wait much longer- but he wanted the proposal to be perfect for you nonetheless.

“Nothing’s wrong, Y/n.” He said. “You’re just seein’ things.”

As soon as the last comment had slipped from his mouth, he knew he messed up. When you raised your eyebrows at him, your tongue in your cheek, he took his hands out of his pockets and reached them out for you.

“Okay, I didn’t mean that.” Bucky said, trying to ease you.

“Yeah?” You asked. “Then what’s in your pocket, Buck?”

“Nothing’s in my pocket, doll.” He chuckled nervously. “Why don’t we keep walk-”

Before he could even finish what he was saying, you strode over to him, moving to shove your hand into his left pocket. Catching your wrist, he attempted to lightly shove you away.

“If there’s nothing in there,” You said. “then you wouldn’t mind me checking.”

Still holding your wrist with a tight grip in his hand, he scoffed.

“And what? Give everyone the wrong idea?” He said, tilting his head towards the couple on the picnic blanket on the grass. “Those people are right there.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Don’t give me that excuse, Barnes.” You lowered your voice. “Don’t act like you didn't just make out with me behind that tree ten minutes ago. Who do you think you're foolin’?”

Just when he was about to open his mouth again, you took advantage of him being distracted and shoved your hand into his pocket. As quick as he scrambled to swat you away, your hand had already wrapped around the cool metal and pulled it out of his pocket.

Opening your hand, your eyes met the familiar ring sitting in your palms. The smirk that had been on your face dropped.

Looking up at your boyfriend, your eyes went wide.

“Is this...” You began at a loss of words. “Is this your mom’s ring?”

You had noticed months ago that his mother's ring finger was bare when the two of you had went and visited her for lunch one day. While setting the table for her- Bucky in the other room fixing the lock on her door- you caught sight of the lack of her engagement ring when she set the forks beside you.

“You missing your ring, Mrs. Barnes?” You asked, nodding your head towards her hand.

As soon as you had asked, her hand shot away from the table as she laughed nervously.

“Oh that old thing?” She asked, moving around the table. “It um... my fingers were all swollen the other day so I slipped it off. I must’ve forgotten to put it back on.”

About to open your mouth to say more, finding her behavior strange, you stopped short when you felt Bucky’s hand rest on your back.

“You know, Ma,” He said, gently rubbing circles on your back. “Next time your lock breaks- tell me first thing. Last thing you need is some burglar coming in here. What were you two chit-chatting about in here anyway?”

Glancing up at Bucky, you watched as he stole a piece of bread from the table, taking a bite out of it.

“I was just saying that I didn’t see your mom’s ring on her finger.”

Choking on the food in his mouth, Bucky began coughing.

Unbeknownst to you, your partner had asked his mother for her engagement ring only a month after officially going steady with you. He honestly didn’t even have to ask. As soon as he had showed up at her apartment and confessed to his mother that he was finally dating the Rogers girl, she had practically shoved the ring in his hand herself.

She had always thought fondly of you (along with every other member of the Barnes family) and had been waiting eagerly for this day to come, knowing some day her son would come to his senses and settle down his best friend’s sister.

When Bucky received the heirloom, he had made his mother promise that she wouldn’t say a thing, keeping it a surprise until the fateful day where he made you his.

He should have known, however, that at the end of the day a part of you was always gonna be Steve’s punk little sister who didn't know when to keep her nose out of his business.

Shaking his head wildly, Bucky glared at his mother.

“You should really keep that thing on your finger.” He said, finally clearing his throat and turning towards his mother. “Don’t wanna lose that, Ma.”

Swatting her son and taking the slice of bread from his hands, she smiled knowingly.

“Don’t worry, James. It’s right where it belongs.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Bucky nodded.

“Yeah, I uh...” He said. “I asked her for it a few months ago.”

At his confession, you began to feel your heart beat faster in your chest.

He had asked his mother for her engagement ring.

He had asker her months ago and it was sitting in his pocket now.

Before you could say anything else, Bucky gently took the ring from your hand and held it between his index and thumb, moving down onto his knee in front of you. Stepping back to take in the sight of him, you opened your mouth in awe, trying to find something to say, but he shook his head.

“I know you love to talk, but just let me say what I gotta say, okay?”

“Hey!” You exclaimed at his playful insult.

“I’m just messin’ with you, doll.” He chuckled before clearing his throat. “So, uh... God this is hard. I practiced this hundreds of times too, I swear, but I’ve known you for so long I don’t know what to say, ya know? You’re just a part of me. I’ve known you for almost my entire life and I remember you just being Steve’s little sister and getting so annoyed because you would just come in there and want to do whatever we were doing, but if that little punk of a ten year-old Bucky saw me now he’d kick my ass because I hate it when you’re not there. I can’t remember a day when I didn’t know who you were and I don’t want to ever go a day without you by my side ever again.”

Not being able to help the beaming smile on your face, you were so overwhelmed with pure joy listening to Bucky rambling on. Squeezing his hand tightly, you laughed along with what he was saying, completely and utterly in bliss knowing what was coming next.

“I would say more, but you know I’m gonna smother you every day you’re with me anyway.” Bucky laughed thinking of the future, looking up at you. “So, will you-”

“Yes.”

“Jeez, can you let a guy finish?” He groaned teasingly, throwing you a bright smile. “What I was asking was... will you marry me?”

Staring down at the man that was about to become your fiancé, you memorized the way the sun shone down on him, highlighting his features and how his blue eyes seemed brighter than ever. Gazing at the smile on his face you knew it was rooted in the pure love and happiness you both shared.

You couldn’t help but think of the Bucky you knew ten, five and even one year ago and how every moment between the two of you was leading up to the rest of your lives. You didn’t know if you had ever believed in soulmates before your relationship grew into something more, but it felt silly to think now that you two were anything but destined to be together. 

You had a feeling you’d find him even if there was a world between you.

How lucky were you to have him right next to you this whole time?

Bending down to your own knees, tucking your skirt underneath them, you cupped your lover’s face in your hands and met his lips with yours. You laughed into the kiss as you felt his arms wrap tightly around you, nearly making you fall over as he pulled you closer into his embrace.

When you finally separated from his lips, the smile rose on his face once again as he brought the ring between the two of you.

“I don’t know if I can take this, Buck.” You whispered, glancing from the ring to his face. “It’s your mom’s.”

“Listen doll,” He said, taking your left hand in his, slowly slipping the ring onto your finger. “I’m the oldest. This ring was bound to be mine when I was born and when I met you... it was bound to be yours too.”

Smiling up at your fiancé, you showed off your hand, newly adorned with his family’s engagement ring. Sometimes Bucky questioned if he was a sentimental man, but seeing you there with that ring around your finger he knew without a doubt that he was.

“You like it?” He asked.

“It fits like a charm.” You smiled.

“Well,” Bucky said taking your hand in his and kissing it softly. “My mom always said it was meant for you. I guess she was right.”

Smiling at the mention of his mother who you had no doubt would be overjoyed at the mention of your engagement, you pressed one last kiss to Bucky’s cheek before standing to your feet, pulling him up with you.

“Ya know,” You said lacing fingers with your fiancé’s. “I’m glad you asked. I was starting to get scared you were getting sick of me.”

“The only sick I am for you, doll, is lovesick.”

You didn’t know what the future had in store for you, but in that moment you allowed yourself to bask in the pure bliss of being joined with the man at your side. No matter what the future held, you felt confident that you would be able to face it with your partner- the man you were sure you were destined to go through it all with.

“Y/n Barnes does have a nice ring to it.” You told him giddily, strolling on the path by his side. “Don’t you think?”

He would be lying if he said that he hadn’t had to rewrite letters because he accidentally wrote his last name after your first or that he didn’t turn red when his mother called you her daughter-in-law when you weren't there. Hearing the name fall from your lips for the first time undeniably made his heart skip a beat in his chest as he squeezed your hand tighter, playing with the ring on your finger.

“You know it, doll.”

[windblooms]

Hi!! Could you do headcanons of Diluc, Kayea, Childe and Zhongli with a s/o who is touch starved but is too shy to intimate physical affection please? Thank you!💙

decided to answer the two of these in the same ask since they have similar personalities for the reader, and they evolved into scenarios.  hopefully what i’ve written is all right!

edit: to the second anon, i’m sorry, i don’t know how people write more than 500 characters in asks. ㅠㅠ  is it maybe a submission . . . ?

childe:

as a very perceptive individual, childe would pick up on your hesitations relatively soon, however won’t say anything about them outright.  

while he may ask you if something’s wrong whenever you reach out, but self-consciously pull away, or when you’re on the verge of words but can’t bring yourself to speak, he won’t pry into your meekness. 

he knows that some people prefer to keep things to themselves or away from others – he’s a prime example of this himself.  so he doesn’t want to push you, but will continue to keep mental tabs on when you shrink away, or backtrack after you sound as if you’re going to ask him something.

if the trend continues for a while, he’ll eventually sit down to talk with you about it.  he’ll discuss with you patiently, not wanting to invade past things you might not want to share just yet, but he still tries to find the cause of your hesitancies so he can better understand you.

“there’s something bothering you, isn’t there?” he leans forward across the table, and rests his chin on his hand.  “you can tell me, you know.  i’ll try and help you with it.”

as you take your time to answer, he grows increasingly concerned, but still wears a poker face to not influence you as well.  across the table, he’ll slowly reach out his hand as a means of comfort, and clasp yours when you don’t pull away.

you begin to speak about your uncertainties, and childe listens intently.  ah, so that was it – now that you mention it, the two of you don’t hold hands much, or really touch each other.  he had assumed that’s how you preferred it, little to no physical touch.  but now that you’ve explained why you’ve concealed those wishes . . . 

“i’d be more than willing to hold you.”  childe’s words are soft, and he manages a small smile to encourage you.  as soon as your face flushes, though, he can tell that there’s something else you want to say.  so he pauses, expectant, but you still seem nervous.

he takes a gander and speaks.  “we can start off slow, if you want . . .  actually, anything you want, you can tell me.  you don’t have to worry about being embarrassed.”

from there, the two of you work out what you want.  you both agree to take it slow, since this will be a first for you; small touches against each other’s fingers as reassurance, and taps against his shoulder when you’re too nervous to outright ask for his attention.  he also has something of his own to suggest:

“there’s some custom that mondstadtians have,” childe ponders aloud suddenly.  “hm – something about tapping three times, meaning ‘i love you’?”

at his notion, you become bashful, and look down towards your lap.  you know where he’s going with this, and at your reaction, the snezhnayan chuckles, unfolding his hands from atop each other to squeeze yours in demonstration.

“one, two, three.  it’s just gonna be between us, all right?”

diluc:

diluc is arguably one of the most emotionally reserved characters in all of mondstadt.  sure, he’s got a sense of dry humor and wit whenever he feels snarky enough, but when it comes to personal sentiments?  he keeps them behind lock and key, with the exception of passive aggression.

if you’re self-conscious about asking for affection, such as when you’re about to reach out to tap at his hand yet pull back at the last instant, you find him looking at you expectatntly, his notorious half-lidded gaze fixated on you.  if there’s something you want, you’ll ask for it is his mentality, since he assumes that the two of you are both comfortable enough in your relationship to do so.  and relationships are built around trust.  so why are you hesitating?

that is to say, he doesn’t stare at you until you crack.  after a few seconds, he’ll look away, and resume whatever he was doing beforehand.  if it were anyone else, he’d most likely ask them verbally what they want, since there’s no use in prolonging the time, and he’s an impatient man. 

he makes a conscious effort to be more gentle with you.  he can’t quite tell if you appreciate it though especially in these scenarios, since you always chew at your lip and refrain from looking at him afterwards.

diluc will only allude to these instances.  he’ll ask “is there something you need?” or “is something the matter?”  he has no experience with physical affection of any sort, at least since his father all those years ago.  so he’d be quite lost with your circumstance; he doesn’t know at all what you want unless you make a verbal indication as to what it is. 

one day, in the privacy of his office, he senses your fingers just near his forearm.  diluc looks over in time to see you clasp his coat rather shakily, but your hold is there nonetheless.  much like usual, he’ll peer at you with a half-lidded gaze, although this time he addresses how skittish you appear. 

“something the matter?” he’ll say as per usual, but this time he isn’t vague; he’s referring to your sudden committance to reaching out as opposed to pulling away.

“ . . . just wanted to hold you.”  your confession is a mere whisper, but your boyfriend still hears it.  the two of you sit in silence for a bit, before he turns his body and puts his hand on the side of your head, pressing gently so that you lean flush against his arm. 

you’re speechless, however the circumstance doesn’t need words anymore.  content with you hugging his arm, and now understanding your wants, diluc continues to work as you drift asleep against him.  while there’s still a ways to go, as he’s sure that this isn’t the only desire you have, it’s surely a start.

kaeya:

the astute captain that he is, kaeya can hone into your desires with relative ease.

before you can retract your hand after reaching out, he’s already grasped it in his own.  you’re caught off-guard, not expecting his agility, but his grip isn’t firm or unpleasant; it’s gentle, as if he’s caring for glass.

he lowers his face so that the two of you are eye-level.  “no need to be shy.  it’s just us.”  kaeya’s reassurance is playful at first, until your contemplative silence queues him in on the severity of your timidness.

he’s concerned: is there something serious that’s bothering you?  he’d just assumed that you wanted to hold hands, or lean on each other.  for how long it takes you to speak, he’s thinking the worst: is a coworker bothering you?  are you ill with a fever?  kaeya’s eyebrows furrow, and he immediately speaks again.  “what’s wrong, precious?  tell me, please.”

looking up at him, you realize that he has the wrong impression.  tenderly enveloping your cheek with his hands, rubbing your skin with his thumbs, you sink into the affection – but he’s got the wrong idea.  

“i-it’s fine,” you begin, and he blinks rapidly.  “just . . . wanted to, uh,” you nudge further into his hands, and squeeze his arms gently, “ . . . touch you.”

ah.  your meekness makes sense now, although considering your personality, his initial guesses probably wouldn’t have been far off.  nevertheless, kaeya indulges you, even if you both continue the circumstance in silence.  it’s evident that you’ve been holding back this request for a while, and as much as he loves to tease and would like to in this moment, he doesn’t believe now is an appropriate time.

so, kaeya continues to stroke your face, soothing away your nerves.  his other hand clasps yours in your lap, giving you the time and affection you crave.  

he finds your vulnerability endearing, but there’s guilt on his conscience: why have you been nervous to approach him about this, and why did he not pick up on it sooner?  not that he expects you to come for him for everything – kaeya just theorizes that there must be some reason as to why you appear so touch-starved, and he’s thinking the worst about such a reason.

“feeling better?”  he inquires, still cradling your face, and he pulls you into a hug.  his warmth is reassuring to you – the security that you’ve longed for.  if this is what affection feels like, you’re not sure that you’d ever want to pull away.

“yeah.”  hesitantly, you lift your face from his chest, but your arms remain around his waist.  your boyfriend grins slightly, and ruffles your hair, pushing your bangs aside so he can kiss your forehead.

“tell me about it.  we can figure this out together.” 

zhongli:

about three weeks into your relationship is when zhongli receives questions from hu tao: “hey, you and y/n don’t touch each other at all.  i know you’re ‘professional’ and stuff, but jeez – not even hand-holding?  thought it’d get more exciting at this point.”

and while he initially thought of her remarks as rude – your relationship isn’t any of her business – it did prompt him to consider her words.

specifically, she’s right: while he’s generally busy at wangsheng, he strives to make time for you whenever possible.  and in that time, never once have either of you touched each other.  he’s never minded, since he’s admittedly gone without it for so long and is used to life without it – but it’s the modern age, and isn’t it customary for liyuens to . . . ?

so he takes it upon himself to ask you over dinner.  he’s made bamboo shoot soup for you tonight, and as you sit across the table from him, finishing the dish, he speaks so candidly it nearly makes you choke on your last bite.

“would you like to hold hands in the market tomorrow?”

“what?”

zhongli makes a strange face.  he knows you heard him, so why do you also look startled, and are averting your eyes?

he repeats himself nonetheless, and while you do answer him this time, it’s by mumbling under your breath.

“ – odd question,” is how you start, and your boyfriend folds his hands underneath his face, yet doesn’t rest his chin.  “um, sure.  yeah, sure . . . ”

you most definitely do not sound sure, but it’s in a way that further perplexes him.  you look . . . thrilled now?  he can see that you’re refraining from smiling – the corners of your mouth flutter – but why?  zhongli doesn’t recall saying anything that would be good news . . .

“is something the matter?” the archon supplies instead, to which you shake your head.  your hands are in your lap.

“ah, no.  what you said just came out of no where.”  an unconcealed smile from you now, and zhongli finds himself relaxing.  if you’re certain, that’s all he cares about.

he stands up, and prepares to take your dish to the kitchen.  before though, he makes sure to bring you up to your feet, and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“may i kiss you?”  he asks, suddenly, unexpectedly.  he sees you nod, the slight pressing of your lips together, and gives them a quick peck before retreating; zhongli can still taste the slight bamboo left over.

when the two of you draw away, there’s a noticeable flush on your cheeks.  once more, you seem giddy, however this time he doesn’t have to ask why.

“i’ve never done this before.”  there’s trepidation in your voice that causes his brows to furrow slightly.  “so . . . it’s all right if we start out slow, right?”

“of course,” zhongli doesn’t hesitate to respond.  you could mean so many things, and he isn’t sure which you’re referring to: initiating physicality with him, or maybe that you’ve never had a partner before . . . ?  but he doesn't dwell on that.  “your comfort is what matters.”

in the market the next day, zhongli finds comfort in the slight tugs on his coat sleeve from your fingers, and the smile that beams on your visage.

[deluluass]

Attention

Since requests are open again, can i request a yan!bokuto developing a crush with one of the other teams' managers during their training camp? 👀             

for: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa​. hi bestie 😔 this is late (again), but i hope u like it 😍

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; underage drinking; (slight) sub!Bokuto👀; mild footplay

Three minutes. 

Three minutes and forty-five seconds, to be exact, before the truth came for you like a ball careening towards your blindside: 

  You’re not supposed to be here .

  Granted, the thought had already slinked its way into your brain ever since you’d overheard the coach crying on his phone, his wife on the other side of the line, that if he hadn't groveled and appealed to his college friend’s sense of honor, as he’d sniffled, they wouldn’t have even considered the team ( your team) to be worthy of receiving an invitation to this training camp. 

  Ignoring the worries that came after that was supposed to be easy. It shouldn’t have come at all . It’s irrational and it doesn’t help anyone. What was the point in fretting? Your boys are more than deserving— more than capable in fact —of going toe to toe with some of Tokyo’s best. 

  It’s also a given that those people don’t know anything about your team. You do live in a town half a day’s ride away from the capital. And how could you expect city folk to recognize a team that hails from a place where the cows outnumber the people three to one?

  They’re bound to not know.

  But the needless unease stayed and soon took a life of its own, the weight of it becoming heavier and heavier over the course of the weeks that you waited for that dreaded day, like a hungry beast that you diligently fed with your little what-if’s. 

  What if that place eats us alive?

  What if they make fun of us? 

  What if, despite trying our hardest, all we do is lose? 

  What if these people take a single look at us and think that we’re not good enough?

  What if they’re right?

  The deep chasm on the scoreboard tells you exactly that, plain and without a hint of artifice.

  Shinzen High has already scored five points. 

  Your team is still stuck at zero.

  And the clock continues to tick.

  “Chance ball!” 

  Your captain's voice was feeble against the noise of the ball being passed from one hand to another. 

  Odd, that. 

  Itsuki's not the type to pull his punches. Especially in the middle of a game; always one to use his entire chest when launching back at his enemies with a guttural roar.

  You looked at the players standing on your side of the court— really looked at them, in a way that you should have instead of wasting your time entertaining those doubts— and found nary a trace of your teammates among those too-stiff, too-quiet boys that bore an uncanny resemblance to a bunch of rabbits caught in the headlights.  

  A chuckle erupted from your chest, surprising even you.

  "Something funny?" the coach asked, his glance turning wary when you convulsed in a fit of shrill giggles. 

  "Yeah," you told him, shaking your head. “There is, Coach.”

  From the bored expressions on your opponents’ faces to Shigeru’s (failed) attempt to set for Koyama, all the way to an audience that wasn’t even looking, who were, frankly, much more interested in what's on their phones than what’s in front of them. 

  How can you not find this funny?

  You were worried about... this ? 

  You sighed, your head the clearest that it’s ever been in a long while, and stood from your seat on the bench. 

  The coach called out your name in a harsh whisper. You ignored him, not even bothering to explain yourself. After all, you’ve already spent too much of your energy on the wrong things. 

  And so, in the most polite way that you could, you shouted:

  “Hey! What the fuck is this!”

  Everyone might've gawked; the coach may have pulled you back to the bench with a strength that you didn’t know he possessed. There’s something much more important than being respectable, though. 

  “None of us ever cared about what these assholes think!” you pressed on, staring down at Takami, whose dad never fails to remind him that he’ll waste away his life fooling around with that useless club . “So, why,” you ask with a clear voice, “Why are we starting now?!”

  Of course, just like any of your spur of the moment ideas, that hadn’t ended the way you hoped it would.

  They still lost (they also did in the following game). All of the coaches (including yours and excluding the one from Nekoma High; that one just patted your back) had expressed their disapproval over what you did. You couldn’t regret it, however, no matter how humiliating their rebukes made you feel.

  Because you don’t think you’ve seen any of your teammates look the least bit happy since you set foot into this place. But, now— even with the fact that all they've achieved so far is keep the floors clean with their diving laps— now, they do.

  With that, it seems to you then that this place isn’t so bad, after all.

A day.

  A day and ten hours, approximately, had already passed when Bokuto felt your presence acutely like the stinging red imprint a hurtled ball leaves on his skin. And just like the circumstances that lead to that bloodied, angry marking, you made your existence known with just as much force as a player spiking for the kill. 

  Some of them guffawed, out of disbelief and sheer delight both, because in all the years that they’ve trained together in preparation for the interhigh, they don’t think anyone has ever called them a bunch of “assholes” before.

  They didn’t think much about that new team that arrived too late. So, yeah, Bokuto wanted to laugh, too, just like others. ‘ What a way to make an impression, huh?’ he wanted to say.

  That wasn’t what he said, though. 

  Bokuto wasn’t even able to say anything. 

  He was too busy staring at your mouth, the resoluteness in your lips as if you knew exactly what to say; the way you looked at your teammates, like there was nobody else more astounding, more unbeatable at this game than the boys before you (though, surely, even you can see that they’re far from being any of those things). 

  And yet, there you were, your eyes incandescent; they might as well have been on fire, blazing with so much awe and unshakable faith and it was so clear for everyone to witness and— and Bokuto did not know what to do with it. 

  It was so embarrassing, truth be told. Bokuto may not be the most secretive guy around, but when the others eventually pointed out that he looked scared at the thought of facing them ( you ), he just couldn’t help but sulk.

  “We’re not half the cheerleader she is, Bokuto-san,” Yukie teased him, patting his shoulder as she did, “but rest easy, we’ll try our best to boost morale.”

  He just groaned, immediately locking his legs at a stand still when the others hooted, ‘Look at him! He looks like he’s about to piss himself bouncing his legs like that . ’ Really, what was he supposed to say?

  Because, when he finally faced your team with that net in between and as he felt the ball against his palms when he aimed for a clean hit towards the floor, it’s not even fear that rushes through him. 

  Not even close.

  Beyond the defeated faces, of the exhaustion slathered all over your team’s barks after each point he snatched under their noses, Bokuto saw you looking at him. 

  Just a flicker; a passing peek before that determined gaze settled back on the others. But it was there all the same: the pause in your breath as the ball detonated against your teammate’s frail arms, clutching the edge of the bench with your fingers as if it took everything in you to keep yourself from running towards the court.

  To rush towards him. 

  To— to what ? Exactly? To scream at his face the same way you did earlier? That he's going too rough and hurting your precious friends?

  There’s a part of him that wishes to stop. A strange, alien feeling that he supposes comes from the discomfort at the sight of you so troubled and wound up.

  Oh, but you're just starting to understand! 

  That if there's someone who's truly astounding, unbeatable, and staggeringly brilliant at this game, it's him . And Bokuto wanted to drive that point home like he's never wanted anything else in his entire life. 

  His body stopped feeling like his own by the second set. 

  His legs were too light to be his, like there were coil springs underneath his feet that carried him higher and higher he swore he could brush the roof with his fingertips. 

  There’s a thrumming in his flesh that propelled Bokuto to move faster, to push that ache over the edge until there’s nothing left but the breathless exhilaration of seeing his opponents kiss the ground.

  The air is getting thinner, like he’s scaling towards a mountain top as he sprints towards the other side of the court, long strides eating up the floor, uncaring for the sweat pouring down his cheeks.

  Bokuto was willing to let this thing go on forever and ever and ever , for as long as he feels the searing heat of your eyes on him.

  Until he turned his head in your direction. 

  You were smiling at something a spectator said. 

  He couldn’t hear it, but whatever it was it had pushed you to make a teasing remark to your team.

  A banter ensued.

  The referee blew his whistle as a warning.

  You giggled.

  Why?

  “The ball, Bokuto!”

  Why aren’t you looking? 

  His hands were two weights keeping him down, made heavier by that sinking sensation in his chest.

  When did you stop looking? 

  It was too much, too unbearable that he could cry. The indifferent way you'd removed him from your line of sight was a sucker punch that's not as painful as the shame it leaves him with.

  Were you even looking at all? 

  And he wonders with a shuddering exhale as he finally gathered the strength to raise an arm, Bokuto wonders what would happen if, just this once, he shot the ball towards y— 

  “Bokuto-san.”

  Akaashi was calling out to him.

  “Bokuto-san, we already won."

  The ball within his grasp dropped. 

  Bokuto watched it bounce on the floor until it rolled over to somebody else's waiting palm.

  He took a deep breath— in and then out, repeated it until everything came into sharp focus —and raised his head to squint at the scoreboard.

  22-3

  So they did.

  The other side of the court was already empty, your team assembled to one corner; you were out of sight.

  Everyone started to gather around him.

  They took Bokuto along with their cheers and reprimands and accusations, like a strong current that carried him from the bench to the shower room, laughing as they handed him a towel, having noticed that he’d been too out of it to do anything else but stay half-naked in front of the sink. 

  “Are you alright, Bokuto-san?” he heard Akaashi ask over the teeming excitement surrounding them. 

  Blinking, Bokuto paused from wiping his bare torso as he replied, “Me?”

  Their setter only nodded.

  “Yeah!” Bokuto exclaimed, a tad louder than he ought to. “Yeah, dude! Of course! Never been better!”

  “You were a man possessed," Masaki, still fresh from the shower, suddenly drawled from behind him. 

  “You were... quiet,” Ubugawa’s captain continued, reaching for the toothpaste laid next to Akaashi. “It was unlike you.”

  Bokuto was about to say something, somewhere along the lines of “Really? I didn’t notice” when Daiki made his decision to wring the wet shirt in his hand, brandish it like a belt, and strike Bokuto’s back with it, the impact cutting across the room. 

  “You little..!” Bokuto turned with a snarl, poised and ready to throw the boy over his shoulder.

  “Let it go, let it go,” Daiki chortled, grabbing Bokuto by his damp hair. “That’s for not giving us a warning, alright? Crazy bastard.”

  Daiki shook his head as he walked away. “Never seen the idiot go hard like that,” he mumbled.

  “That’s our ace for ‘ya!” Haruki echoed from his cubicle, to which the others responded with wolfish howls and sharp whistles, completely transforming the shower room into a tiled rainforest. 

  And Bokuto wanted to join along, because although the game still felt like an abrupt, fever dream, he’s well aware that he did something that he’s going to be proud of in the days to come. But somehow— for some unknown, beguiling reason, all he could do was stand there and make himself vulnerable to Kuroo’s antics.

  The Nekoma captain looked at Bokuto through the mirror, clicking his tongue before lamenting about “ those poor country boys ” and their “ ill luck ”.

  “Go easy on us small fries sometimes,” he added. “You were pretty scary back there.”

  Kuroo gave his nape a quick pat before he went for the lockers, leaving Bokuto to stare at his reflection, features obscured by the fog.

  Scary , he said.

  Scary, huh.

  A man possessed.

  Bokuto wonders about its meaning, what coach had meant earlier when he’d jokingly called him a beast. He contemplated what about him had led them to think that way, tried his best to be perceptible of any changes.

  His eyes were the same, although the pupils in the middle were large pools of tar, widened and leaving only the slightest space for the honeyed rim. 

  His hair was the same platinum color and still streaked with the same black lines, although untamed and in a disarray this time, with the strands sticking to his forehead. 

  Although flushed, his face was the same, over all.

  Everything seems to be right where they’re supposed to be.

  Although he’s huffing and puffing, creating more mist to cloud the mirror with. And when he tried to reach for the glass, he realized that his fingers were still trembling. His blood still surging as if his body had never left the court. 

  Then, it struck him.

  Bokuto holds his breath in anticipation, the truth of it right in front of him.

  There’s no monster here. 

  No man possessed either.

  Only a guy who’s helplessly, foolishly in love.

Announcing to an entire room of strangers that one is of the opinion that they're assholes, as it happened, was an effective way of making new friends.

  Of course, there was that awkward day-long explanation that you had to do for Yuki and Kaori and the others. An affair that wasn’t too different from a one-woman press conference that involved you expressing your regrets, revealing that, sometimes, when backed against a wall, you can be an impulsive clown with a glaring lack of filter (like: "No, no..! I didn't think you guys were actually- you know- ass- it just spilled-" and "Ah, geez, this is embarrassing.The heat was getting to me. I didn't mean it, really!" )

  But the girls had been kind enough to let bygones be bygones, assuring you that all they ever felt was a joyous combination of relief and wonder. Ubugawa's manager, Eri, (who'd shook your hand while holding back tears) even told you that seeing another girl in a veritable sausage fest that is the training camp was a miracle in itself. 

  "It was fun, actually," Mako once said when the two of you were assigned to carrot chopping duty. "You gave us something to talk about for a while."

  And even when the novelty of being a bumpkin with the mouth of a sailor soon faded, the bond that quickly bloomed between you and the other managers hadn't.

  It was unexpected, although not unwelcome.

  You couldn't help but laugh at yourself. How silly you'd been: coming into the city expecting a den of wolves and hunters armed to the teeth.

  In the span of two days thoughts of survival were replaced by the confidence that your boys would pull through; by a sense of ease that you didn't need to win all the time and that this place is not a battlefield, but a fertile ground for growth and learning. You didn't need to constantly be on your guard— knuckles up and gearing for a fight, you realized.

  Well — 

  For the most part, at least.

  Serving spoon in one hand and potholder in another, you reluctantly paused from preparing your team’s meal to whisper under your breath. "He's doing it again," you hissed.

  Kaori only gave you a preoccupied “hm?” as she plucked the ladle to fill the plain white ceramic bowls before her. “Who is?” she continued. 

  “Your captain,” you replied, taking care not to let him know that you're on the verge of melting under his not so subtle scrutiny.

  The lovely Fukurodani manager didn’t even miss a beat; without lifting her eyes away from the food, she raised her voice, just loud enough, to address the creature (spying) standing idly by the door. 

  “Say, Bo-kun,” Kaori called out and you watched, amazed, as he coughed out the water that he’s been making a great show of drinking. “Your mama must not have taught you that it's bad to ogle.”

  Bokuto Kotaro, Fukurodani’s ace and captain— a volleyball player that sits atop everybody else in this training camp, whose name is almost always followed by “one of the very best in the country”— quailed as his manager, the Great Kaori Suzumeda, blessed him with a smile veering on beatific. 

  “Oh-who-me?” he prattled, hands pointing at everything and nothing as he choked on his own words. “Didn’t see you there! What’s up! I was just passing by!”

  “In the middle of practice?” Kaori snickered. “ You ?” 

  The boy released a laughter that resonated in the empty cafeteria. 

  She sighed, dropping the ladle, and told him to “Just go, Bokuto.” He obediently complied, thank the gods, but not without an overzealous goodbye to Kaori, as if he’d never see her again when lunch was just half an hour away.

  He didn’t say anything to you. He didn’t need to, anyway. The lingering gaze that he directed towards you was enough.

  “Thank you,” you exhaled once you made sure you’re no longer within his earshot, plopping your head against Kaori’s soft arm.

  Her chuckle fluttered towards you, causing you to smile as she asked, “Is it that bad?”

  You could only nod, both as an affirmation and an effort to shake those golden, hawk-eyes out of your system.

  “I’ll talk to him,” she said after a few seconds of comfortable silence, the firmness in her voice making you stand upright and level with her.

  Common decency tells you that you should say no, to stop her and tell her that she didn’t really have to; that you shouldn’t make a big deal out of this. But, you’d never really been one to listen to what that part of your brain dictates.

  Taking her hand in yours, you gave it a light squeeze, incapable of doing anything else to convey your gratitude with a sob lodged in your throat.

  “He’s not a bad guy, our Bokuto,” Kaori soothed. “And for what it’s worth, he’s never been like this with someone he likes.”

  A grin lit up her face as you snorted, remembering the time someone had finally caught on to Bokuto’s newfound fixation. The uproar that it’d cause in the field when everyone was out enjoying slices of ripe watermelon. The unnecessary and, frankly, embarrassing anger that it’d pulled out of your boys after it's been revealed to the whole world. The infamous blush on Bokuto Kotaro’s face as he desperately tried to deny the accusation. 

  And the cold, spent feeling it left you.

  “Normally, he’d be all over them,” she continued, mimicking his owl-like way of moving, bobbing her head to and fro as she circled around you.

  “Kaori!” you squealed, pushing her playfully by the shoulder. 

  “Bokuto would be like—” Kaori pumped her fists in the air, “ Hey, hey, hey! Talk to me! Talk to me! Compliment me! Love me! ”

  You simply hummed, folding your arms against your chest as you commended her spot-on performance. 

  She didn’t need to tell you all that, though. The guy had a personality so big it’s a miracle how this city contains him. And you’d known from the very beginning that Bokuto Kotaro doesn’t seem like the type to do the whole “pining from a distance” thing. 

  But, they even said that he’s half in love with you already, with the way he follows you with his eyes and flails and stutters and acts like he’s never had a mouth and a pair of hands before whenever he’s around you. And that, somehow, he plays even better than he already does when you’re in the audience ( especially when it’s against your team). 

  You don’t bother to correct them and say that no, this might not be a silly little crush.

  Because you don’t think that anyone but you would understand that there can never be any love nor infatuation in a stare that traps you with its expectations. Even if you did tell them that, you’re the only one who knows what Bokuto’s gaze really makes you feel like: A plaything that he’s been gifted to and was told would sing and dance for him just so he’d stop crying. 

  And you know what temperamental children do with toys that don’t work the way they want it to, don’t you?

  “Trust me.”

  Kaori’s gentle voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

  “He’s just an idiot,” she told you. “You’ve seen him— especially last week!” Kaori’s eyes bulged out, leaning closer to you, both of you gasping at the memory.

  Tears sprung out of your eyes as you laughed harder, your stomach aching when Kaori began to recount the events that had turned the entire training camp on its head, forever planting itself in its history as the worst ordeal it’s ever faced:

  A piece of the wall in the girls’ sleeping room broke off, revealing a large, Lovecraftian nest of cockroaches. 

  “If you’d only seen his face!” Kaori cackled, struggling to finish as she clutched onto you for support. “He burs- bursted into the room only for him to- to-”

  “Pass out when a roach flew to his nose! I know !” you screeched and slapped the table with her, ignoring that you’re almost knocking over the food and chortling until you were close to having a heart attack.

  “Oh- oh , I can’t breathe,” she groaned. Your laughter tapered off into heaving as you fixed her mussed bangs. 

  You smiled. 

  “See,” Kaori finally said, pinching your chin a little. “Bokuto’s a meathead. Just a meathead. Guy can’t get a clue. But he’ll come around once he realizes that he’s being weird.”

  “Yeah,” you murmured, giving her a weak nod. "I'm sure he will."

  You didn't know if you meant to say that with a hint of irony; if that scared farm girl is rearing her ugly head again and pointing a pitchfork at a monster of her own making.

  A monster that, you're convinced, would do something more than just look once you're within its reach.

It wasn't supposed to be this way.

  Bokuto even had it all figured out in his head. C’mon, he's got the looks, doesn't he? And he's not lacking in charm. In fact, he's oozing with it! That's why Bokuto had expected that he had this one in the bag. His game plan was foolproof: 

  Talk to the girl. Get the girl.

  After that, you’d be together for the rest of your lives and your fiery, unrelenting support for that lousy team of yours would never go in vain ever again. Because it’d all be directed to him. All that “ Good job! ” and “ You were amazing back there! ” and “ Don’t be scared! I’ll be right here rooting for you! ” would finally be given to someone who actually deserves it.

  All you had to do was see what he had to offer and baby— oh baby , how you'd love him. No force on Earth could have prevented Bokuto from making you his.

  So it's all the more sobering now that Bokuto’s witnessed that the said force turned out to be him of all people. And what he could actually give you was a few stumbling lines and compliments that didn't even make any sense (“ Y-your face smells nice ” for example)— all (preferably) uttered a few feet away from you. 

  The others teased him for looking like a jilted witch casting a spell on an indifferent lover. “What are you? Speaking in tongues or something? Is the Great Horned Owl that desperate?” they poked at him. He didn’t mind them before, but now he’s not so sure.

  " Tone it down, okay? " Kaori had reminded him again earlier this afternoon. That stern talking-to from their manager was an ice-cold bucket of water that doused what’s left of his optimism. 

  But, tone what down? What , exactly, is left to tone down?

  He couldn’t even talk to you without losing his ability to string coherent words together, let alone get close to you. Eye contact, too, he’d deliberately restrained himself from doing (if only you knew how much this is hurting him!) and not just because he’d been deemed a complete and utter creep. 

  Bokuto couldn’t look you in the eye ever since that incident.

  “ She’s helping the other girls carry their stuff to the other room, I saw them just now ,” Yamamoto had discreetly passed on as soon as he woke up from a terrible concussion. “And if you want to redeem yourself, my friend, after that humiliating performance, you��d better go out there and lend a hand. ”

  Because Yamamoto, being the love expert that he proclaimed he was, told him, “ Look, I feel for you. But it’s simple. You just gotta show her what you’re made of. That you’re a man she can depend upon, ” Bokuto then persevered to follow through.

  Only for him to be met by an empty room with bits of crumbled plaster scattered across the floor. And your bag in the furthest corner just...lying there.

  Maybe you’d forgotten about it. Maybe you were too busy catering to your friends' needs that you'd forgotten about yourself.

  Either way, Bokuto promises that it wasn’t on purpose. 

  Bokuto had good intentions, really! He just wanted to take the bag with him so he could give it to you, is all! It wasn’t his fault that some of your stuff was peeking through the half-opened zipper. It’d already been in that state when he saw it. 

  And- and it’s not his fault that he adores you too much. 

  Bokuto reminds himself as much as he propped his forehead against the bathroom wall, water from the shower pouring against the taut muscles on his back as he wrapped your underwear around his cock. 

  The baby pink fabric, every inch of it soiled now over the days that he's used it, rubbed  against his balls when he began fondling them, his other hand caressing his nipples, rubbing and pinching at the peaks until they stiffened between his calloused fingers.

  His cock grew hard and heavy in his hand as he started pumping into his fist, fucking your soaked panties until precum dripped from slit.

  And with nobody else in the shower room, Bokuto allowed himself to grunt and curse and call out your name, digging his nails into his skin until it stung and made him want to cry.

  "Make me cum, princess," he whined, shutting his eyes to watch you on your knees, fingers between your legs as you looked up at him, never taking your eyes off of him even as you took his cock down your throat.

  "Please, please ," Bokuto groaned,"Please let me cum."

  Here, you don't turn away nor brush him off without even saying anything. Here, you call him your baby and you chuckle as you ask him, " Good boys deserve to cum, don't they? "

  He bit his lip, pressing his cheek against the freezing tile. "Mmhmm, I-I've been-" Bokuto moaned, feeling himself creep closer and closer, the pleasure at the pit of his stomach building, "I've been so fucking good for you."

  The contrast of your pretty little underwear around the thick veins of his cock made his head spin. And as he squeezed his shaft tighter, Bokuto knew that he did, in fact, deserve so much more.

  Because he's endured so much just for you. Now, it's time to get what he's due. 

Scouring high and low for a pair of cotton panties that have seen better days wasn’t how you wished you’d celebrate the last night with your newfound friends. 

  Yuki had advised that you abandon the ratty, old thing (though you did say it wasn't; ratty, that is) and leave it here as a parting gift— a mark of your impact on their lives, if you will— but you’d quickly laughed her off and set out to find it. She was drunk, anyway.

  Although, so were you. If not, then just a tiny, itsy, bitsy, bit tipsy.

  You hiccuped, giggling as the sound echoed through the poorly-lit hallway. The world was spinning beneath you and you prayed that it wasn’t worse for poor Yuki, having chugged half of that horrid concoction. 

  Kaori almost threw her out of the window after that stunt. Mako scoffed at her for being an arrogant ass. The girls who weren’t drinking sat back and chose to enjoy the unfolding chaos (while also being kind enough to be on the lookout).

  And you...well...right now you’re on the verge of breaking down as you make your way to the shower room. 

  Mostly because you’re just realizing that you might never see them again if your team doesn’t survive the Inter High. Partly because you’ve been dumb enough to not notice that you’ve been missing an underwear for a couple of days now. 

  God, it's so ridiculous. You're ridiculous. You're glad that you went on your own and rejected their offer to accompany you. Imagine if they saw you like this:

  Oscillating between sobs and strained laughter while swaying on your feeble legs; the very picture of a lunatic out in the streets in the middle of the night.

  You only hoped that you're not scaring the living daylights out of that guy who probably just went out of the boys' room to pee. Maybe you have already spooked him, with how still he's gotten.

  Cupping your palms around your mouth, you saw fit to save his sanity and cried, "Heyyyy! I'm not- hic - a ghost!" 

  "Oh!" you gasped, raising a pointing finger to shush yourself, "Oh, yeah, sorry, shhh-" 

  He didn't run the other way screaming and crying, which was good, instead he approached you hurriedly, making you squint to get a better look at him.

  "Koyama?" you whispered, struggling to recognize the tall boy with a sturdy build, his navy blue hoodie casting a shadow on his face. It didn't help that your eyes were doing something funny, as if they were busted camera lenses that went uncontrollably in and out of focus.

  "Good evening, my dear! I daresay you're looking quite bur- burl- blurry tonight."

  You cackled, immediately following your greeting with a slurred apology.

  "Why- Why are you still- um- up?" he asked. And before you could volley him with a question pointing to his weirdly different voice, he brought his head down to sniff at you. "Wait- have you b- are you drunk ?"

  "What! No! Of course not!" You pouted and airily slapped his cheek, drawing a lopsided grin out of you when his skin glowed pink, bright enough to light up the entire place. It was so remarkably adorable that it made you squeal and pinch both cheeks, rocking his face as you did.

  "Look at our big boy!" A sheepish, almost disbelieving chuckle shook his large chest as you resumed your baby talk, your grabby hands bringing his face towards you.  "Who would've thought that our stwong, wowdy ace could bwush wike so? And what's with this siwwy hoodie, huh? Where did you get this, bunnycakes? I've never seen you wear this before!"

  You wondered, also, why and how his jet black hair turned pallidly gray over the few hours you hadn't seen him. You even brushed the mildly damp locks out of his forehead, unsure if they're even real as you tried to right your smudged vision.

  And you wanted to blame it all on the alcohol.

  It's the reason for that dramatic change in his tone and manner of speaking and hair color and...those eyes .

  The very same pair that followed you everywhere, sometimes even in your sleep.

  "You love me, after all," he breathed, the statement a thin sheet of glass that could blow into smithereens at just the wrong response.

  That had been enough to drain the inebriation out of your body. Like being branded, you pulled away from Bokuto with a harsh curse.

  "I- I have to go," you said. "Sorry, I thought you were Ko- my teammate."

  But Bokuto had already laid hold of your arm with no intent of letting go.

  "Stay!" Bokuto called out, repeating it with please and listen despite your outcries, shouting for Kaori and Yuki and Mako and Shigeru and Takami and Coach and Koyoma and anyone, help me, anyone.

  Until he tugged you to his chest, wrapping himself around you and turning his entire body into a concrete prison as he fervently told you, "I love you. I love you so much ever since the first time I saw you and I know, I know you feel the same so if it's the distance that's keeping you from me I can come to you I'll follo-"

  "Nothing's keeping me from jackshit!" you gritted out. "I don't love you! I don't even care about you!"

  He didn't say anything to that. 

  Bokuto had gone quiet. It wasn't only until he nuzzled your neck, pressing his face snugly down the crook, that you decided to kick him with all your strength, breaking yourself free as your heart thundered out of your chest.

  You didn't look back.

  You dashed through the long, endless hallway with the air in your lungs dangerously running low and keeping you from screaming.

  But the remnants of the alcohol were lead that weighed your feet to the ground, betraying you further by morphing your surroundings into a hazy, dizzying scape. You teetered and wobbled, desperate to reach that staircase that will lead you out of this floor, but each step that you took was not fast enough, not nimble enough, as if you’re wading through knee-deep water. 

  And before you know it the monster has caught up and is ready to pounce from right behind you.

  “Get your hands off me!” you wailed as Bokuto heaved you by the waist and carried you over his shoulder. 

  The sudden upending of your world was so nauseating, you didn’t even notice that he’d already taken you to an almost pitch black classroom, its heavy curtains drawn together and the empty chairs and tables pushed to the side. 

  His large, sprawling hand was gripping your ass, your stomach lurching when you felt him caress it. Yet that didn’t deter you from hitting whichever part of him that your knuckles and feet could touch, ignoring the trail of your own spit that dripped on your face as you howled and thrashed and fought to keep yourself together because no one was hearing you.

  What’s left for you, now? Your captor was so strong, much stronger than you, that even when he tripped on his toes, Bokuto was able to catch himself and drop you on the nearest table in just a single breath. 

  “Stop fighting me..!” he panted, holding you down as he knelt before you. “I’m not gonna hurt you! I- ow! Don’t-”

  Bokuto’s grip on your wrists was unbudgeable. So, you didn’t miss the chance to bite him when he covered your mouth with his palm. Teeth chattering, you broke the tough flesh, sunk them sharply until the taste of salt and iron flooded your tongue.

  You expected that it would push him away. Give you the leverage to escape.

  That turned out to be a mistake.

  His honey-gold eyes glinted as he stared deep into yours. Every hair on your body stood on end when the corners of his lips slowly lifted, eyes still fixed on you as he released a bubbly, childlike laughter.

  “I've always wanted to do this to you," he sighed giddily. 

  The helplessness chipped at your insides bit by torturous bit when all you could do was rock the table with your flailing, while Bokuto had already crouched lower— low enough to pull the hem of your thin shorts with his teeth.   

  He watched you weep with a sickening display of dejection, like he's some dog that's been shoved around by his master.

  "Please don't cry," Bokuto whined, peppering soft kisses all over the insides of your thighs then licking off the beads of sweat that covered the goosebumps. 

  You’re not giving up. 

  You couldn’t give up.

  You pushed and gnawed and tore skin that you’re sure every inch of his palm is littered with fresh bruises, but this only seemed to encourage Bokuto, drawing out his drugged out moans as he spat on your clothed cunt, drool leaking down to your folds before he lapped at the wet spot. The moistened fabric scratched and rubbed against your clit to the point of quivering and writhing in his clutch. 

  “Oh, I know , baby,” Bokuto murmured, using the tip of his tongue to flick at the swollen nub. “I’ll make you feel real good soon.”

  Shaking your head, the unwiped tears gathering around your eyelids dropped to his long, calloused fingers. And you wanted to screech, to tell him to go to hell as he swirled his tongue all over your embarrassingly slick hole.

  No, you wanted more than that. 

  You wanted to drive your bare hands into his chest.

  But that’s not what you did, is it?

  When Bokuto finally removed his hand from your mouth, what slipped past your lips wasn’t the sound of a woman ready to kill. Instead, you sounded like a little girl begging to be carried home. And that hadn’t been the part that scared you, really.

  It was the fact that no matter how much you tried to scream, nothing was coming out.

  “L-let me go,” you wheezed, your voice cracking. “Or- or else.”

  “Or else?” Bokuto replied, eliciting a gasp from you as he sniffed your throbbing, wet cunt. “Look at me, princess.”

  “ Look at me ,” he repeated pleadingly, frustration giving his tone a rough edge, as he brought the hand that once suppressed your attempts to call for help to skim past your thigh and stroke the sole of your feet. “Just this once. See me.”

  You kept your eyes closed, even as he kissed your toes and brought it down to his crotch, forcing you to dig your heel into the bulge jutting out. He rocked his hips, gyrating slowly, his cock hardening under your feet, as he whimpered into your leg.

  “Please, please fuck me, please ,” Bokuto mewled. “I’ll do any- anything for you.”

  Profanities rushed out of you, but no one could hear them. Not even you. Perhaps that's why he didn’t flinch when he lugged you down to straddle on his lap.

  “Use me, baby,” he whispered, grinning wide as he snaked his other hand to your back and dug his nails around your nape, laying on his back and taking you with him as he did, your tits crushed to his chest. 

  With your arms dying in his grip, Bokuto easily stripped his pants along with his boxers. Violent trembles wracked your body as he dragged your pussy along his thick shaft, back and forth, your damp panties riding up every time he thrusted upwards.

  His hot breath against your ear sent shivers down your spine as he giggled lowly, “Wanna cum inside you so fucking bad . Will you let me, hm? Please let me.”

  Of course you didn’t want to. It’s not like you’d stop struggling, either. It’s just that Bokuto would never listen to you. Even when he whimpered and babbled, “You don’t want to- fuck, your pussy’s all nice and wet - oh, you don’t want to? That's okay, that’s okay, baby,” Bokuto still slipped his cock inside your underwear.

  It slid past your lips up to your clit. And you’d never hated yourself more in your entire life when all you could do was stay limp and cry as the fat tip finally nudged your twitching hole.

  “No, no, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he whispered, scattering kisses on your neck, “It’s just the head- just the head.”

  As Bokuto groaned and rutted against you, all you wished for, in that moment, was for dawn to peek through the curtains and signal the end of this torment. But, still it went on with Bokuto stretching you open.

  And as he split you in half, you detachedly realized that you were right.

  This place did eat you alive.

[gobblewanker]

Well. Guess who had some late night Emotions™ and wrote another drabble on that "Sherman adopts Stan and Ford when they're eight because Filbrick is the worst" story?

The room at Sherman's apartment was smaller than the one at their parents place had been. It was cramped, the singular window was poorly insulated, and the wallpaper was flaking. Almost everything in it was second hand - deeply cherished childhood toys picked up from garage sales piled in a corner, a banged up desk Sherman's college was going to throw out anyways nestled under the drafty window, an old space heater Ford had to repair nearly every winter puttering away snugly next to the drawer with it's missing handle. Everything was old and worn, but in a good, reassuring, way. Like a pair of well used shoes, slowly adjusted to it's wearer's feet and fitting far more comfortably than a new pair ever could. As far as Ford was concerned, it was infinitely more a home than the pawnshop had ever been.

Maybe that made sense though. He'd soon spent half his life there. The latter part. The better one. The one spent living in a shoddy apartment which's walls nonetheless practically oozed with love and family. The one without dad looming large like some invisible but always precent danger. The one with memories permeated by safety and stability.

Ford knew much of that stability was a carefully crafted façade, propped up on his big brother's shoulders. He'd caught on to it long before Stan, but in retrospect it was obvious. The way Sherman would skip meals so they never had to, the way he always seemed to be working overtime, all of it. It wasn't a stable situation at all. But he'd made it feel that was. Always made it seem like there was nothing to worry about. Ford and Stan had tried to help out wherever they could, doing chores when there were any and otherwise just being good and staying out of the way. It had taken a long time for the permanence of the situation to sink in. For the realization to hit that they wouldn't get sent back. That no matter what they did, Shermie wouldn't get fed up with them and cart them back to Pa.

But what if it wouldn't be up to him?

"Hey, Stan?" Ford whispered into the quiet of the dark. From the bunk under him, he heard a low grunt of affirmation.

"Yeah?" There was no trace of drowsiness in Stan's voice.

"I can't sleep."

"Tell me about it."

Ford dropped his arm over the side of the bed, letting it dangle. It didn't take more than a few seconds for Stan's hand to find it. Five fingers intertwining with six. An old gesture of reassurance. Quiet and secret, Pa wasn't big on sentimentality. That stuff was for women and crybabies. The secrecy wasn't a necessity anymore, Sherman didn't mind, but the gesture had carried them through long enough to become ingrained.

"I'm scared." Ford said. The confession came with ease. Just one of the millions that had been dispersed into the darkened bedroom over the years. Half a childhood spent.

"Me too." Stan's voice answered, drifting up from below. "Ya thinking about the war?"

Ford nodded into his pillow, before remembering Stan couldn't see him. "Yeah."

Silence descended on the room like a blanket again. Soft, but very palpable and almost suffocating.

It had been a perfectly normal day at first. When they woke up that morning, everything had been just fine. Perfectly average. You never really appreciate 'avrage' until it's threatened.

There'd been recruiters at their school, talking to the older students about war and enlistment and other things Ford wanted nothing to do with. It was something he was going to ignore. It didn't concern him. He and Stan were both too young. He'd felt a strange sense of almost invulnerability at that. So he'd just kept walking. He'd gotten caught up in an interesting discussion with his physics teacher at the end of the lesson, and was far more concerned with the fact that he was running late to meet up with Stan for lunch. But then it'd hit him with the same speed and ferocity as an oncoming freight train that while he and Stan might be in the clear, that same certainty was in no way extended to Sherman.

The closest thing to a parent they had, and an uncaring universe had just added his name to some nebulous lottery where being picked would spell tragedy.

Sherman was security, and now he might be ripped away.

Suffice to say, they hadn't gone to get food after that. Instead, the entire lunch period had been spent locked up in a bathroom stall, Stan trying his best to talk Ford down from the ensuing panic attack without becoming overwrought himself.

"What do we do, Stan?" Ford's voice was low and miserable. He'd managed to pull himself together for the entire evening, not wanting to worry Sherman. But problems always seemed much bigger in the dark, and this one was insurmountable enough in daylight.

"I donno." Stan said. "Do ya wanna go talk with 'im?"

"I don't know."

Ford went quiet again, just listening to the rumbling heater and the odd car passing by outside. If there was one thing he missed about their old room, it was the sound of the ocean. A busy road was no substitute for calming waves.

Did he want to go talk to Sherman? Yes. The sense of comfort he usually got - both of them usually got - from doing that was so deep rooted it was only surpassed by the comfort they could find in eachother. But this was about Sherman, so venting their fears with him might help. He never got upset at them for doing so, not for being 'sissies' or for keeping him up when he had work in the morning or for bothering him. The fact that they could go wake him up if they needed it was another one of those truths that had taken a long time to sink in. But after a bad bout of the flu had almost escalated to hospitalisation for both of them because they wouldn't tell Sherman they weren't feeling well they'd sat down and had a very long chat about the importance of communication. It still felt like night and day compared to Pa.

"I guess I want to go talk to him. But it feels stupid."

"You know he wouldn't see it like that." Stan's hand squeezed Ford's comfortingly.

"I know. But..."

But what? Ford wasn't sure how to articulate the issue. Not even to himself really. He wanted to go and ask for reassurance, he wanted that familiar comfort. The one that made him think of sitting up late at night being hugged and reassured through childhood stomach aches and emotional breakdowns over bullies. That strange paradoxical feeling of a miserable situation made almost... Cozy? None of those situations were ever good. The things that facilitated them hurt. But that hurt facilitated closeness and safety, and those emotions were always the ones that remained. They were good memories tinged with something bad. Or maybe bad memories overwhelmed by something good?

So yes. He wanted that. He wanted to make a good memory out of this hurt.

But that felt selfish.

The situation was horrible. Horrible to the point where trying to make something good, however miniscule, come out of it almost felt like it'd be disrespectful. Making light of something that should stay dark. That should hurt, and only hurt.

"Ford? Ya still awake?"

Ford breathed shakily through his nose. Trying to stop his voice from wavering the way he just knew it would.

"I want to go talk to him. But it feels wrong."

"Why?"

"I don't know how to- I don't-" Ford paused, focusing on breathing again. Intellectually, he knew he didn't have the keep the emotions tapped down. Another lesson Sherman had worked hard to drill into them. It was okay to cry and dad was an asshole for demanding they don't. But he still didn't want to. It still felt somehow weak. Shameful. "I want to go, I want to make it feel better, but I also don't want to make it feel better because it hurts and it should. It should hurt. It's awful."

Stan remained quiet for another few seconds. Usually he had no qualms about blurting out whatever came to his mind, but maybe this situation required more thought.

"Let me get this straight... The reason you don't want to go and talk to Shermie is because ya want to be upset?"

Ford didn't know if that was it or not. He couldn't make heads or tails of his own emotions. They felt huge and overwhelming, too big to fit inside him but also too big to unravel and understand. Like a nest of gigantic snakes all tangled up in eachother, chaotic and confused, hissing and biting itself.

"It's bad. It's so bad that trying to make it good feels wrong." He didn't know if that was it either.

Stan let go of his hand, and Ford instantly mourned the loss of contact. Comfort? Wasn't comfort what he didn't want? He was so confused, he just wanted everything to make sense. He lifted the corner of his t-shirt to wipe at his stinging eyes as Stan's face appeared over the side of the bed.

"Ford... Look, it's okay to let things hurt, but it's also okay to make them hurt less." Stan looked at him intensely. Ford felt himself becoming even more choked up at the scrutiny. "No, seriously. It's like... Like breaking a leg, right? Remember that time in fourth grade when you did that?"

Ford nodded, slightly unsure what this had to do with anything.

"It hurt, and it's okay that it hurt. It made sense that it hurt, and you don't pretend like it doesn't. But just because it makes sense that it hurts doesn't mean it was bad that you got painkillers and a cast. Without that junk it wouldn't have healed right."

That... He supposed that might be a valid analogy. Maybe Stan had a point.

"So... You think we should go?"

"Are you going to feel any better if we don't?"

Ford considered for a moment, still warring with the conflicting emotions twisting his stomach all up in knots. But he thought maybe it was slightly less. Shaking his head, he excavated himself from the nest of blankets and clambered down the ladder. Moving through the darkened apartment and arriving to knock at their brother's door as they'd done so many times before.

In the end, it did help. Sitting huddled together on the bed in the dark until the sun began to rise and the fear crept away with the shadows. Until it felt safe enough to fall asleep, secure in the knowledge that everyone would still be there come morning. The situation was large and looming and firmly out of their control. That much didn't change. They couldn't decide how things would end, but they could decide how they would cope. And they would cope.

Together.