#because there was some kind of lock on us. Once we realized what we needed to talk about

[ya-bug-boy]

I had a dream where I was in a dating simulator and had to pick between Guzma and Plumeria. I picked Guzma, we had a cute moment but towards the end of the dream, he was drowning in the river with his head trapped in a bag of frozen pasta.

i think i got the bad ending lol

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x best friend!fem!reader

Summary: You and James stumble upon an ancient book of spells rumored to enhance pleasure.

Genre: SMUT (nsfm) + hurt and comfort

Warnings: sex while under an 'aphrodisiac' of some kind, unprotected sex, penetration, cock warming, quickie, public (not seen by anyone), riding, insecurities, porn with plot ✨

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

"Someone is gonna see us," you whisper, feeling James Potter's hand in yours, his thumb occasionally soothing circles over your palm as you stumble in the dark corridors under his invisibility cloak.

"That's the point of the cloak, love," James answers, holding in a laugh as he guides you towards the entrance to the library and he mutters the spell for the lock as you hold your breath. 

"Hear us then," you counter, unconsciously squeezing his hand for reassurance. 

James doesn't hesitate to return the squeeze and he smiles when the lock opens with a click. He opens the door and you both squeeze inside.

Once the door shuts behind you, James drops the cloak and you let out a shaky exhale, adjusting your hair. The room is dark and it smells like dust. You hold in a cough as James mutters, "Lumos," and then grins like he'd gone mad.

"Told ya we'd be fine," he sing-songs and kicks your shoe in a playful manner as he walks by you to look at all the restricted books. 

You groan and take out your wand, walking along the shelves as you pick up dust with your index. "Are you looking for something in particular?" you ask, your voice low as you read the names of books, realizing just how dangerous this could become.

James nods. "Yeah, I bet Sirius I could find "Moste Potente Potions" so we could make some Polyjuice potion," he says casually. 

"And you needed me, why?!" you turn to glare at your best friend. 

James looks at you with a smile. "Didn't really. I'just like your company."  

You bite the inside of your cheek and go back to looking at the books. "Polyjuice is dangerous, James. Are you sure you want to meddle with that?"

James nods again and he hums, "I'm top of the class in Potions, I'm sure I can handle some Polyjuice." He sounds smug and you roll your eyes at his behavior.

James is reckless and impulsive and honestly, you're worried about him making that potion with his friends. You don't dare bring it up, because who are you to tell James what to do? You aren't his girlfriend or anything—

"Woah," James's voice interrupts your thoughts as he walks over to you. You turn, standing in front of him as he flips the pages of some old dusty book. "These spells are ancient—and completely forbidden—" he mutters, his eyes round with excitement. 

You tilt your head and read the title; "Antiqua Cantus." Ancient Spells.

"Bloody Hell, there's a pleasure-enhancing spell–like a sexual thing—" James exclaims and holds the book open to you so you can see. You walk over and stand next to him, looking over his shoulder at the spell. James begins to recite the spell and you read along, entranced by the words on the worn-out parchment.

By moonlight's glow and stars above, 

Ignite the flames of lustful love. 

Let passion's heat our bodies bind,

In ecstasy, our souls combined.

Whisper soft this sacred plea,

Unleash our wildest fantasy.

Once he's finished, you glance around the page and frown. "Shit." You grab the book from James and then look up at him with wide eyes, "James, this is a wandless spell!" you whisper and his eyes widen like yours did as he realizes what happened. 

He grabs the book from you and reads the instructions. His shoulders relax and he points to the small print— "It says the participants must have already existing feelings for this to work," he mumbles and looks up at you, smiling reassuringly and unsure all the same. "So—"

"Yeah—" you whisper, stepping away from him.

"I feel fine," James starts.

"I do too," you say, feeling completely normal. 

James shuts the book with a slam and his smile returns. "Thing is probably too old to work, anyways," he says confidently. You nod, less confident than he is but you push those worries down. 

He doesn't like you like that—so why would it work?

Once James finally finds the book he's looking for, you both cram under the cloak and you make your way back to the dorm. You ignore the feeling, but your head feels fuzzier than it should. Every brush on James's arm against yours sends shivers up your spine. You're extra aware of how he smells and it's intoxicating. You bite your lip, hoping the pain will distract you from the pleasure building. 

The spell. 

James looks normal. He's even humming the Hogwarts song under his breath, his eyes trained forward as you make it to the Common Room. It feels so unfair—that he's fine and your stomach twists with butterflies as your nipples harden painfully against your bra. 

It isn't fair. 

As soon as you have the chance, you pull away from James and sit on the couch, pressing your thighs together. You glance up at the stairs to the girl's dorms, wondering if you should run up and take a cold shower to quench the ache.

"Hey, you okay?" James asks, folding up the cloak as he looks you over.

Bloody fuck, his voice. 

"Mhmm," you nod, focusing your attention on anything but how turned on you are or how hot James sounds and looks. How much you want his lips on yours. 

You clench your thighs again, nervously pressing your hands in between them and your breath hitches when James sits next to you, his hand flat on your thigh. You inhale. 

"Are you sure?" he asks, looking at you behind his glasses with a look that makes you want to pounce on him. This is so humiliating. You move your thigh so his hand slips onto the couch and James's frown deepens. "Hey," he whispers again, "What's happened?"

You feel like your entire body is on fire. You need to touch yourself or throw yourself out a window—you can't make up your mind.

"The stupid spell—" you say, your voice soft as you avoid his gaze and stare at your knees, feeling your hands shake. "it's working and I- I can't handle it, James," 

He doesn't answer for a moment until you hear a familiar laugh. "Oh, darling," he says, his hand finding your chin as he turns your head around, grinning. "Look at me." 

You do so but he shakes his head, his eyes shimmering. "No. Look at me," he whispers, his voice husky and deep and your eyes widen when you understand what he means. Your gaze falls from his eyes to the painful-looking bulge tenting his trousers and you inhale sharply, the sight causing your mind to haze over. How had you missed this!?

"Look at what it's done to me, love," James finishes as his thumb strokes your cheek. "We really messed up this time, didn't we?" he hums.

"You messed up," you whisper, leaning into his touch. Thank Merlin no one is in the Common Room at this hour because your desperation is embarrassing.

"I messed up," James says with a strained smirk and he twirls some of your hair in his fingers. "Can I make it up to you, darling? Can I make the ache go away?"

James knows this is wrong. You're both under some kind of sexually enhancing spell—this is so many shades of messed up. Still, his heart and dick yearn for you. Somehow, he's managed to hide it well, most likely because he'd had experience in that department—James was constantly turned on to some level when he was around you. He can't help himself. 

"H-how?" you ask, the idea of giving in to the desires not even crossing your mind. 

James smirks, looking at you as his glasses fall down his nose. He pats his thigh. You look down, your eyes widening. You shouldn't. This is wrong. Still, your body responds to him without your brain's permission as you lift yourself to straddle his lap. Your skirt bunches up your thighs as your arms wrap around James's shoulder. You gasp for air at how sensitive you are and you can't look him in the eye.

You can feel him hard and needy against you and you swallow. 

"Look at me," James whispers once more, his voice husky and deep as his hands grip your hips and he moves you up and down his trousers. You whine and bury your face in the crook of his neck, your skin clammy and flushed from need. 

Suddenly the movements stop and your grip tightens around his shoulders. 

"Look at me," he says again, lips pressed to your ear as he sounds as desperate as you are. "O-or I'll stop," he threatens, not sounding convincing considering the spell is starting to hit him hard and he's about ready to come in his trousers. 

You pull away, looking at him as your mind buzzes and you search his eyes for some hint that you both need to stop this. You see none so you say, your voice strained, "James. Fucking need you, please."

You lift your hips, finding his zipper and fumbling with his trousers as you push aside your panties. It's rushed and sweaty and not at all romantic like you'd planned—not to mention public. You pray everyone else is asleep and won't walk in on you sitting on your best friend's cock.  

With a moan, you press down and he slides in easily. "Shit, you're so wet," James mumbles as he kisses your neck, holding you close as his cock twitches inside you. You both don't even think of the fact he's not wearing a condom or anything. You're too lost in the pleasure for any rational thoughts.

"Fuck," you groan, keeping him inside you without movement for a while. You hold him as close as possible, needing him. Needing his warmth.

James groans, his eyes shut in pleasure as he holds himself back from fucking you roughly. He's going to explode at any moment if he doesn't feel you move. "Y/n," he warns, his hands tightening even more on your poor hips. 

You take that as an invitation and you move, your movements slow and languid in the beginning, feeling every pull and stretch and you can't tell if James's cock just feels so much better than any others you've been with, or if the spell is messing with you. 

Perhaps it's a little of both. 

"Bloody hell," James grunts, losing control, as he moves you with him, his hips snapping up into you. You gasp, falling onto his shoulder as you hold him even closer, the pleasure almost unbearable.

You don't know if it's been hours or mere minutes but once James spills himself into you, his hands around your back as he continues to move your body to his liking, you can't hold it in and your mouth opens, a silent moan catching you by surprise as you finish around him. You feel weak and fuzzy almost instantly as if the string master that kept you aware suddenly cut you loose. 

James's hand soothingly runs in your hair as he pants, his eyes shut. The only sound you can hear is your and James' ragged breaths and all you can smell is the burnt-out firewood and sex. You feel much calmer now as your brain tries to catch up with the events that just transpired, and when it does your blood runs cold.

You sit up, looking down at your best friend. He's looking at you, not daring to speak. You'd just fucked him with such want and need and yet all you can think about when you look at him is how you did all that without knowing the feeling of his lips on yours.

Shame burns your skin and you scramble off him, the feeling of his cock leaving from inside you makes you wince as you hold in all the emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. 

"Hey," James whispers, his hand reaching for yours as he stops you from running away, standing up in the process so he's looking at you. He drops your hand and, clearly embarrassed, tucks himself back inside his trousers. You stare at him, feeling dirty from an experience you'd wished had been amazing. 

And it was more than amazing if you were honest with yourself. You'd never been more satisfied in your life, but it also wasn't what you'd really wanted. Was it too cliché to want roses and candles? A steamy kiss and some swoon-worthy romantic confession? 

Instead, you'd gotten love bites and finger dents.

"What's going on in your head?" James's voice interrupts your thoughts as he moves closer. 

"Hmm?"

"Darling, come on, please talk to me," he insists, wanting to know exactly what you're feeling so he can understand his own feelings. 

You cover your face with your hands, head dipping down as your body finally calms down from the surplus of hormones you've experienced.

"We shouldn't have done that, James—I–it was wrong," your voice fades as his hands find your wrists and he pulls them down. He looks hurt, sad, and guilty all in one emotion painted on his handsome face. 

"Do you regret it?" he asks, his voice wavering. 

You open your mouth to say yes but hold yourself back. It's more complicated than that. "I don't know– I just didn't think it would happen like this and—we didn't even kiss," you ramble, avoiding looking at him. You should have been looking because then you could have seen his next move coming.

James gently takes your cheeks in his hands, pulling you into him so he can kiss your lips. For something surprising, it isn't forceful at all. He doesn't kiss you longer than a few seconds and he doesn't use his tongue. He's delicate with you, making sure he isn't crossing any boundaries.

When he moves away, your eyes are open and you're silent for a moment. Then, you grab his collar and pull him in, crashing your lips onto his. You kiss him like he's your last meal on earth--like you've been starved of him. He feels so good pressed against you, his hands in your hair and then your cheeks again, and then your waist. You feel dizzy and you pull away. Your lips feel swollen and love-bitten and you're a flustered mess.

James continues to hold you close as he presses his forehead to yours, his thumb rubbing your waist. "You're amazing," he speaks so softly as a faint smile graces his lips. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I don't tell you enough, do I?" James smiles and tilts his head. He leans in and kisses your neck. "You're amazing—so wonderful," he inhales your scent but doesn't comment on it and a shiver runs up your spine. 

"I– we–" You want to bring up the fact you had sex with him but James puts his finger on your lips, his thumb rubbing under your chin and he shakes his head. 

"Stop worrying so much, lovely. It's okay. I promise it's okay. I didn't hurt you did I?"

You shake your head and James's smile turns into a grin.

"Good. So we're okay, hm?" he looks at you expectantly. "You're still my best friend."

Your heart thumps loudly in your ears. Best friends. "Y-yeah, you're still my best friend, Jamie," you say, your voice strained as you smile reluctantly. 

You want to be so much more than best friends.

James can sense your hesitation and he takes a breath. "W-would you want to try to be more than just friends, Y/n?" he pauses, and then his voice picks up, "and I'm not saying that because we just fucked. No. I'm saying this because I'm hopelessly in love with you and I think you love me too. You kissed me like you love me. I want to try to make this work."

You feel like the world is crashing around you. Your skin feels clammy and your head is dizzy. Still, an unfamiliar warmth spreads all around you. You feel blissful and you reach for James's hand, needing to hold him. He lets you hold his hand and he intertwines his fingers into yours. He looks nervous like he's expecting a rejection.  

"I do love you, James. So much. I want to try this too," you whisper, looking at him with a shy smile. 

James's grin widens and he picks you up, spinning you around as he keeps you close when your feet touch the ground again. "I'll do right by you, my love," he whispers in your ear and you hold your hands behind his neck. 

"So no more late-night trips to the restricted sections and trying old, dangerous, spells?" you tease.

James nips at your ear. "I kinda liked this one."

You laugh and swat his pec, your hand trailing down his chest as you fist his shirt and look up at him with a mockingly stern look. "Don't be a smartass, you wanker."

James returns your laugh and kisses behind your ear. "No more trips to the restricted section and trying old dangerous spells. Pink swear."

You pull away and hold out your pinky, which he takes and you grin. 

"We can still have sex though, hm. We don't need a spell to do that, right?" he teases but the question almost sounds serious. 

You roll your eyes. "James."

"I'm just making sure!" 

[darnell-la]

Can you do a follow up with the project x!wolverine x government employee!reader (it can be smut or not I just really like that story)

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗧 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗞𝗘 𝗢𝗨𝗧 (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ)

pairing: project x!logan howlett x government employee!reader

warnings: tied up, trapped, sniffing, hunting down, roughly fucked against a tree, pinned, choking, “dragged” through the woods, fucked on the patio, ass slapping, hair pulling, etc.

note: we will be making a part three where they contact Charles's school for mutants to warn them about the government, but the government hacked into their call and found out where Logan was hiding out and keeping y/n.

Logan will be more sweet in the next one as y/n grows out of the fear of him.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

when y/n woke up, she was dangling from the ceiling by her wrists. It took her a while to realize, she was in a basement full of big freezers and sinks. For a second, she thought she was going to be cut up and frozen to feed to whoever until she saw a man sitting on the stairs, leading upstairs.

“W-Where am I?” Y/n said, voice coming out lower than she expected it to. “Home,” the man spoke before getting up. He came out of the light, now shaking off the figure.

He was shirtless, yet had jeans on. Her heart skipped a beat, and she didn’t know why. Was it because Project X had her tried up in god knows where, or was it the fact she could see all of his chest?

He was sweaty, hairy, ripped, muscles flexed every once in a while, veins popping from his skin and smooth.

“It’s passed midnight, but I bet you’re hungry. Went to the store then cooked us up some food,” he spoke as her eyes traveled all over his body. She felt like she was in a trance.

“Up here, princess,” his voice was closer. She didn’t notice how close he was until his fingers lifted her chin. Even though her feet were a few inches from the ground, he was still towering over her.

“You hungry?” He asked with a head tilt. “Let me go,” she spoke, not knowing what else to say. “No,” he spoke back, voice sounding stern. She could hear the seriousness behind his tone.

“And if you try runnin’ you’ll regret it,” he said, body now touching hers. Y/n quickly went to kick him right between his legs, but he knew what was coming. He surprised her by pulling her leg to the side of his waist. She went to use the other, but he did the exact same thing.

“Relax, princess,” the man smirked down at her as she tried wiggling away, but doing so made her cunt rub up and down his clothes length. She prayed he wouldn’t notice, but he felt the wet spot soaking into his jeans.

“If you act good, I’ll fix that for you,” the man whispered in her ear, pulling her body closer to his. Y/n held bad the whine she almost let out. What was he doing to her?

Logan eventually pulled back and walked to the corner of the room to lower her rope. He then walked back over to the girl as she looked down, not knowing what to say or do to the man.

He wasn’t giving off any type of serial killer vibes. He didn’t seem like he wanted to do any kind of killing. A part of her felt saved than she’d ever had, especially because of her job, but she felt off just letting this man win what he wanted. And that was her.

After y/n’s hands dropped from the ropes, she lifted her knees and connected with his groin. The man fell to the ground in pain as she pushed past him, running up the stairs.

The slightly frightened girl ran towards the front door, thinking she was free until she noticed a device on the lock that needed a code. “Fuckin’ hell,” she shouted before running around the rest of the house to find another way.

“You ain’t gettin’ outta here, bub!” Logan yelled from downstairs, finally getting up from the ground. You would think a mutant like him wouldn’t feel that pain, but he did.

Y/n panicked, thinking she was doomed until she had an idea. A stupid one which she slightly felt bad for doing but she did it anyway.

“Son of a bitch!” Logan finally made it up the stairs to the sound of glass breaking. She was out and running for her life, knowing he’d be furious about his genitals and glass.

Y/n ran as fast as she could through the woods, a bit terrified of the dark and animal noises, but the real animal was back at that house. He is an animal, right? That’s what they said he was.

Y/n had stopped after a few minutes to catch her breath. He’s never been the kind to run.

As she rested, she looked down at her feet, swing scratches and blood, but she’d get over it. She needed to get away.

As the young woman went to take a step to continue, she heard a noise behind her. She quickly looked back but saw nothing. Maybe it was a squirrel or something, she thought.

Y/n turned back around to start walking until he saw the view of an angry Logan in her face. “Where ya goin, bub?” He asked. Y/n instantly screamed at his presence.

Before she could move, the man tangled her to the ground, pushing his hand down the middle of her back to pin her into the dirt.

“No!” Y/n fought in anger, thinking she was actually going to escape. “When I said no, you ain’t listen, now didn’t you?” The man said through his teeth as he forced her to dress up.

“Logan, please! N-Not out here, not out here!” She begged, thinking people would be able to hear this scene going on and go and check, just to see her getting drilled into the ground.

“No one’s out here, princess. Not for another mile or so — You’re all mine out here,” the evil low laugh he let out as he pulled his jeans down was insane. He hadn’t even pulled himself out of his boxers. He wanted to take his time with her out here.

Y/n tried kicking her legs, but what was the point? He could smell her leaking down her folds. He knew she wanted this, and he was going to make her understand.

“I said, no!” Y/n shouted as she swung her elbow back as hard as she could, making him fall back. Y/n crawled away, but only a few inches to look back at him. The fear that grew inside of her was unbelievable.

Logan‘s jaw was dislocated. She popped his jaw.

Y/n’s words got stuck in her throat. She wanted to apologize as the man slowly looked up. He didn’t mean to hurt him. She’s not like that.

Before she could open her mouth, Logan popped his jaw back in place with his hand before moving it around to make sure it was normal.

“You fucked up, bub,” the man said before crawling towards her. It didn’t even look like a crawl. How did he do that? Logan lifted the girl up by her neck and pinned her to the closest tree.

“Ow!” She cried out, feeling the tree bark scratched her ass through her thin and silky nightgown. God, she needed to change soon.

“Logan, ow!” She hoped he’d have sympathy for her, but the way his eyes looked, he was far from it. He wanted to teach her a lesson, and that’s what he was doing.

“N-No, no!” She pushed at the man’s hand, but that did nothing. He ripped her nightgown off like a strand of hair. “Logan!” She shouted, feeling the breeze on her body until his body rubbed against hers.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” Logan growled as he pulled himself out of his jeans. “I don’t like that,” he had as he shifted up and between y/n’s legs until they were lifted off of the ground. Her toes barely touched the dirt.

“I-I can't, Logan,” y/n remembered how he fucked her the last time, and he wasn’t even angry at her. Logan let out a chuckle that he soon cut off after he slammed up into her cunt.

Y/n cried loudly as her arms gripped his shoulders. Logan stared directly at her, his face seemed too serious to look at. He was angry. Very angry. But why? It’s not like the pop in his jaw hurt like any other thing her went through?

“P-Please,” she choked as he pushed her neck into the tree harder, just to get a reaction out of her. “Shut the fuck up,” the man said like the tree wasn’t about to break or come out of the ground from how hard he was pounding into her.

“I can’t,” she whined in pain, but too much pleasure to not tighten around him. The way she squeezed him, egged him on further.

“Oh, you can’t? Does it look like a give a fuck? Huh!? Does it!?” He spat as his pelvis roughly slapped against her clit. She couldn’t think straight. This man was fucking her like some wild animal in the woods. She’s literally being fucked by an animal in the woods.

“F-Fuuuck,” y/n dragged with a broken moan. Logan let her neck go and used both of his hands to grip and hold onto her legs, keeping her up and against the tree, not caring how much she scratched at his shoulders and chest.

The man growled in her ear, cock slipping in and out of her entrance as her asshole puckered. He was huge and slagging around like he wasn’t.

Y/n couldn’t say, but her broken cry warned him she was cumming, and when she did, it was hard. “Goddamnit — Fuck,” the man grunted, pinning his feet to the ground to keep up his hard abuse.

“So fuckin’ good — Fuck!” The man couldn’t keep himself together as his nails dug, into her thighs. Y/n was now crying, not because she was scared, but because of the overstimulation followed by a thrust that wouldn’t slow down.

“Yeah? Yeah, is that the spot, baby?” He asked, knowing it was. “Think this is over just because you came? Think ima stop because you’re drunk on my cock? How did that go last time?”

The girl shook her head, half ass answering his questions. “So cute,” the man chuckled before pulling y/n off of the treat and throwing her over his shoulder to give her a small break.

He wanted his fresh meet alive and functioning when he fucked filled her up. Last time he didn’t get that chase, but he swore to god he would this time.

Because she ran so far, he had to walk it, giving y/n some time to come to life. “Lo-“ y/n cut herself off, still having trouble speaking, but held herself well enough for him to understand.

“No more,” she begged, but he wasn’t having it. “Please, no more,” she begged again as she noticed him passing his car parked several feet from his cabin.

“Logan!” She shouted, now kicking and screaming again. The man grew angry but wanted to take her to the bedroom for what he was about to lay on her.

“Logan!” She shouted, gripping onto the side of his house which was a long wooded stand. “Y/n, stop it!” He let her down with a shout as he began pulling her, but she wouldn’t budge and he didn’t want to accidentally rip her arms off.

“No!” She screamed before he finally pulled her off, causing her to fall on the front steps in front of his house. The way she fell and landed on her hands and knees made him say, fuck it.

“You wanna be fucked like an animal? Fine,” he said as he came up behind her, pulling his cock back out before plunging into her, earning a scream that made him know he hit the right spot instantly.

Logan grew an evil smile across his face as he tugged on her hair, making her arch her back before slapping at her ass, causing her to bruise lightly.

“Little sluts get treated like slut, y/n. You could’ve be fucked nice and sweet on the bed earlier, but no — You wanna run,”

Y/n’s mouth slacked as her eyes crossed from how hard the man was pounding on her. “You see that, bub? Look right up there, right into that camera,” he forced her to look at his security.

“Gonna tie you down and make you watch how dumb you look on my dick,” the man spat, making y/n feel the burn in her eyes, but not from embarrassment. From too much pleasure.

“Yeah — Yeah,” the man repeatedly groaned as y/n squeezed him with a shake in her body. “So fuckin’ pathetic, I might have to give you back,” Logan said, knowing he’d never do such a thing. “Nah,” he added drill in her head that she ain’t goin’ nowhere.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ, sᴍᴜᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ sᴏᴏɴ...

[withleeknow]

lost cause.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, kinda angsty idk?; unedited bc we live just to suffer, erhm i don't think there's a lot of warnings here, open to interpretation if oc is depressed 🤔; basically “it's rotten work,” “not to me. not if it’s you,” + that one scene in nobody wants this (if you’ve watched the show you’ll know what i’m talking about) word count: 0.6k listen to 🎧: risk - gracie abrams

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

“i think i’m starting to hate myself again.”

your voice is casual when you say it, indifferent, nonchalant, as if you’re merely bringing up the weather or reading from a shopping list. you’re used to it by now — the fact that it comes and goes, that if there are highs then there must be lows too. that sometimes, there are no good days, just better ones.

you know minho hasn’t fallen asleep because you still feel him playing with your hair while you lay on his chest, his index finger twisting a lock around before letting it fall over your back. he doesn’t falter, not even once. no change in his calming breathing, no sign that he’s all too surprised by your sudden announcement. you suppose he’s used to it as much as you are.

he’s quiet for a while, like the night outside the comfort of your bedroom. the weather forecast warned you of thunderstorms, but everything remained still and safe. there wasn’t even a spark of lightning to be found.

when minho finally speaks, only a simple “okay,” comes out, followed by a question. “then i’ll love you more to make up for it. how much time do you need? couple weeks?”

you shake your head. “longer,” you say.

“couple months?”

a beat of silence. another shake. “longer.”

“couple years?” he asks. no hesitation. “couple decades?”

minho can’t see you from this position, but you can hear the sound of his heart. he’s steady and secure and you’re nothing more than a fickle flame that’s always on the verge of going out.

“you can’t handle it,” you tell him. “better to quit while you’re ahead.”

it would be so easy, wouldn’t it? for him to pack up before he realizes somewhere down the line that he’s wasted his time and effort on a lost cause?

“i know what you’re doing, by the way. stop that.”

you pretend to ask, “what am i doing?”

before you know it, he’s already managed to flip the both of you over. he’s hovering over you with his forearms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in, chest to chest, and his hips pressed flush against yours.

“i told you i���m not going anywhere,” minho says, brushing some hair away from your face. “stop trying to get me to leave.”

you blink. he’s so close and oh so warm, so beautiful as he stares down at you, so patient and kind when you’re telling him that you need him to love the parts that even you can’t bring yourself to love.

your hands settle on his shoulders. “don’t blame me when you regret it.”

“i won’t regret it. not if it’s you.”

then he’s kissing you, soft and slow, and that’s when you finally hear the first roar of thunder that should’ve arrived hours ago. he kisses you like he was made for you — or you for him, you’re not really sure, but it can’t possibly matter that much.

“so?” minho prompts after he’s pulled away, “how long?”

his eyes are sparkling and you’re still a little dazed. lightheaded but you know that you’ll always love him the most, know that you’re pushing it, know that you’re asking for what many would never be willing to give. “what if i say i’ll need you for the rest of my life?”

his lips curl into a tender smile, one that he presses to your mouth once again. you taste devotion in the kiss, in the way one of his hands crosses the short distance to hold your face so delicately it makes your heart hurt.

“i’ll love you more for the rest of our lives then.”

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 30.10.2024]

[kiame-sama]

Similar question to the one with Drider!Rook on kissing but with the other Monster Boys

How would they handle me giving them a kiss on the cheek (Or even their mouth) only to take something from them in victory?

But it’s mainly to prove a point that I don’t need physical strength to win, but my cunning and intelligence (Like I take their Dorm Staff or whatever’s in their hand in triumph because I proved my point)

Honestly, Malleus, Vil, Leona and Azul would be the most impressed but would probably scold me if I did that with others (But their eyes are dilated)

Warnings; Several different Yanderes, yandere behavior, suggestive themes, kissing, thievery, if you kiss any of the monster-men you need to be ready to handle the consequences, mainly Dormleaders (Minus Kalim, because all you have to do is point somewhere and you can easily steal from him. You don't even have to steal, he would willingly give you anything you wanted the moment you showed interest. You'd have a harder time stealing candy from a baby), less thievery and more escaping in Vil's ficlet, use of gamer-tags in place of names for Idia's ficlet,

~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Riddle!"

The Unicorn glanced over his shoulder when he heard your happy greeting, smiling in response to seeing you walking over to him with a slight bounce in your step. Though he would never admit it, the way his heart seized whenever he saw you was both a painful yet wonderful experience. How he longed for you to return his affections and take your rightful place as his King of Hearts.

"Good morning, (Y/N). Have you been well?"

"Of course, but there was something I wanted to talk with you about."

"Oh? What would that be?"

"Come over here, so we can talk without shouting."

The red-maned Unicorn was bemused, yet complied with your request all the same. He would always do as you asked of him, even if it meant moving the very ocean by hand. You smiled in a way that was almost mischievous and Riddle vaguely wondered what it was you were playing at. When he approached, you looked up at him with a content smile that he returned in kind.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I had some questions for you about Unicorns, actually. Unicorns are a myth where I'm from, so I wanted to see if you could clear up some of the misconceptions I might have surrounding Unicorns."

"I would be happy to teach you about Unicorns, (Y/N)! You can have the utmost faith in me to provide accurate information to your questions. What did you want to know?"

"Are you able to lay down without being injured? The closest we had to Unicorns was regular horses, and they rarely would lie down unless extremely comfortable, young, or ill."

"Of course I can! Here, allow me to demonstrate for you."

He moved his weight back to his haunches, allowing them to meet the ground as he curled one leg after the other beneath him. Once his equine half was settled on the ground, he was about to roll to one side to fully lay down when your soft hand cupped his cheek. Riddle was confused as to your interruption but his confusion quickly turned to shock when your lips locked with his.

An almost whinnying squeal left him, but he was eager to return to affection in kind. Even as he felt the crown of his dorm-uniform being lifted from his head, he pursued the kiss eagerly and chased your lips as you tried to pull back. You were only able to escape the Unicorn's desperate kisses by stepping back, as he was unable to get up as easily as he was able to lie down.

There was a clear red decorating the cheeks of the lovely Unicorn even as you grinned triumphantly and placed the golden crown atop your own head. Little did you realize how much this would actually impact the Unicorn you tricked. A certain darkness seemed to take over the bright blue eyes of the monster man as he gained an almost drunken smile.

"Prefect..." he breathed, "absolutely perfect. My wonderful King of Hearts... of course I'll marry you!"

"Wait, what-?"

The Unicorn stood now, almost invigorated as he easily caught your shoulders in his hands, pulling you back into another deep kiss. When he finally broke it, he was affectionately rubbing the side of his horn against your head with soft nickering noises.

"Didn't you know? Kissing and exchanging an article of clothing is akin to a proposal for Unicorns like me. You'll make a wonderful King, (Y/n). My marvelous King of Hearts."

~•§•~

The Nemean Lion was laying in the vast gardens of the greenhouse, resting beneath the large leaves of a fern commonly found in his homelands of Sunset Savana. He was somewhere between sleep and awareness when a certain scent on the air caught his interest. Without bothering to open his eyes, his ears angled around before pinpointing the location where the scent originated. Leona almost smiled.

It was clear to him that you were trying to be quiet and sneak up on the Lion that continued to lazily lounge as you drew close. The only true indication that he was awake and not sleeping was the almost imperceptible flick of his tail. He was almost eager for what you intended to do after your approach as he continued to flick his tail excitedly.

The moment you were within reach, the Lion proceeded to grab you and pull you into his arms. You had been under the impression that he was asleep, so when he grabbed you, you couldn't help but cry out in surprise and fear. Of course, Leona couldn't help but laugh at your response as he rolled to his side, laying next to you and propping himself up on one arm.

"You'll have to try harder than that if you want to sneak up on me, Mousey."

"I wasn't trying to sneak up on you."

"No? Then why were you trying to be as quiet as possible?"

"Because, I was going to do something else."

"Like?"

Your sudden kiss to his forehead made a loud purr erupt from the chest of the Lion. It was almost too easy to get Leona to let his guard down as your fingers began carding through his mane, scratching near his golden ears. That also gave you the opening you were looking for as you easily slid the dorm emblem off of the arm of the Lion.

However, when you tried to pull away to abscond with your winnings, the weight of Lion was too much to be able to wiggle away from him and from under his grasp.

"Nice try, Mousey. Now, you're going to lay there and be a good little pillow as payment for interrupting my nap."

"But you weren't even sleeping-!"

He was quick to place himself on top of your soft figure, grabbing both of your hands- making you drop the emblem- and putting them back in his hair. There was little else you could do but pet the Lion who began to doze while snuggling your much more fragile form. If you wish to play with Lions, you must be ready to face the consequences of your actions.

~•§•~

"Ne, Azul! The Human is here and says they want ta talk to ya!"

The Cecaelia glanced up from the contract he was working on as Floyd lazily called into the office Azul often occupied. Though he often didn't allow visitors on any schedule but his own, he would make an exception for the beautiful Human he adored.

"Send them in."

"Kay~!"

At least Floyd seemed to be in an affable mood for once, smiling and lazily walking off with the door left somewhat ajar. Azul would scold the Eel later for the blatant forgetful behavior, as it was rather important to close the door to Azul's office due to the many contracts stored within the room. Still, it was something he could bring up later.

Floyd returned to open the door fully, letting the Human into the room with a happy grin in their direction. He seemed to want to linger but instead closed the door and went back to whatever it was he did when he was not tormenting others. Perhaps he was just moving on to torment someone else or even his twin bother.

"(Y/n), welcome to my humble office. What can I help you with today?"

"Well, I was told that you were the one to go to if I ever needed anything others were unable to retrieve."

"You're... you're here for a deal? I would happily make any deal with you, dear (Y/n)! Name your desires and I will deliver as promised!"

He was thrilled to know you were seeking his assistance. He was the best bet most had, after all. Most would have to pay a rather steep price to be able to afford the aid of the Cecaelia on any given day, but he had already resolved to aid you for a much more generous and kind-hearted price than his usual rate.

What he wasn't expecting was for you to sit down on the edge of his desk with an almost coy grin, gazing affectionately into the eyes of the Octopus who now seemed nervous under your scrutiny. He would never admit it- excepting to Floyd and Jade who had already become wise to his affections- but Azul was madly in love with the soft Human of Night Raven College. The Octopus had been in love with the idea of Humans ever since he was a larvae, hardly hatched and struggling in the currents of the ocean.

The many depraved things he had written in his adoration of Humans would hopefully remain unviewed by the Human that now sat perched atop his desk. Of course, it did nothing for the suddenly dry mouth Azul now experienced as he tried to keep himself as composed as possible. Were he in his aquatic form, no doubt his tentacles would be all over the soft skin of the Human, tasting and kissing the flesh that seemed so ample and on display for his gaze.

"Wh-what- ahem- what was it you needed from me, (Y/n)-?"

A sudden warm and soft kiss to the small heart shape beneath Azul's right eye had the Octopus tensing up. He was completely flabbergasted and unable to say anything in response to the affectionate action, even as his hat was lifted from his head and placed atop the head of the grinning Human. The octopus was only able to blink one eye at a time from how scattered his brain had become as the Human hopped off of his desk and pranced to the door, hat still securely in place.

"That's all I needed. Thanks, Azul!"

~•§•~

"Would you stop moving, (Y/n)? Honestly, you are acting as if you have never modeled for us before."

You frowned somewhat at the gentle scolding of the handsome Harpy that was trying to finish stitching the hemming of the shirt you were wearing. Naturally, the Harpy would not be content with just a few outfits for your ensemble and called you back to tailor more clothing for you. Divus wasn't present at this fitting, but Rook was happily watching the Harpy circle you as he hand-sewed the clothes.

"Well, sure, but I wasn't thinking I was going to have to stand for so long. It's not exactly comfortable."

"Beauty is pain, my featherless darling. Pin feathers are annoying and sometime even painful, but they give way to the most beautiful feathers imaginable if left to grow. Patience is needed to truly appreciate the beauty of something."

"If you say so."

Vil smiled slightly at this, glad that you were somewhat compliant to his gentle attempts at giving you direction. He would certainly be far less patient and gentle were you anyone other than his beloved Human. He doubted he would even be so patient with Rook. To be fair, though, Rook hardly complained about much, even if the Drider wasn't particularly comfortable or at ease.

"What do you think of this top now it is cinched properly, Rook?"

"Travail merveilleux, roi du Poison. I was unsure about the draping of the garment, but as always you have a keen eye for such things. Mon Trickster does look divine."

You vaguely wondered, as the Harpy wrapped up his stitching, if you would be able to escape from the fashion inclined duo, and what it would take to achieve such a feat. It was while you were contemplating your daring stunt that an opportunity presented itself. Vil was holding up a new top that had yet to be fitted and was trying to see what color would look best on you when you caught the Harpy's hand and attention. He was clearly suspicious of your actions as he raised a single brow in question.

"You know, Vil, I think pink would look good on you."

"Pink? It depends on the shade of pink, but it would mostly clash with my feathers-"

A sudden gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth silenced the Harpy, a bright pink dusting across the Harpy's fair skin and highlighting the bright coloration around his eyes. Those violet orbs were wide with surprise and even Rook was taken aback at the bold action, unable to find words as you hopped down from the raised platform you had been on.

"Seems I'm right! Pink looks great on you. Thanks for the top, Vil!"

You were quick to abscond from the room as the Harpy held his cheek, still blushing a bright pink. Rook was enthused that you gifted the beautiful Vil with such a treasured sign of affection, trailing a finger down the ridge of his boon-companion's wings as he walked around the stunned Harpy.

"Rook, how do you think (Y/n) would look dressed in a wedding gown made from your silk and my feathers?"

"Absolutely divine, like you, Roi du poison."

~•§•~

"Why can't we just virtual visit class, HellKitty?"

"Because, Idia, you need to interact with the other students at some point. Push your comfort zone and be a student, for once."

Idia frowned as he hid behind his tablet, trying to avoid all of the curious looks he got from others in the halls. He was trailing behind you- more than a little unwilling on his part- to what was supposed to be his next class. If he had the choice, the both of you would be back in your dorm and just watching class through one of the cameras as you played videogames together.

Honestly, he was more than a little amused that you had adapted to the gamer-tag he gave you like your own name. Of course, it was no mistake that he chose the gamer-tag HellKitty for you. It was both a play on your ever faithful companion Grim the Hellcat, and the fact that Hellcats were ideal companions for Shinigami. As a Shinigami, why wouldn't he want you to be his Hellcat? Sure, you weren't actually a Hellcat, but you were raising one and that was good enough for him.

"-Idia? Idia!"

"What?"

"Were you even listening to me?"

"... would you believe me if I said yes?"

You sighed and stopped in the middle of the hallway, turning to face the tall student head-on. Naturally, the moment you stopped, Idia was quick to crouch and curl in on himself, wanting to seem as small as possible despite his already gargantuan stature. Only his own ancestor and the Kelpie Trey were taller than him, though not by much. This gave you the ideal opportunity to put your plan in motion.

While Idia was distractedly staring at his tablet, you reached up and cupped his cheek. The physical contact had the Shinigami looking at you with wide and confused eyes, his hair beginning to burn almost white in anxiety. Out of all the things Idia was expecting when you placed your hand upon his cheek, he was immediately error-screened when you pressed a warm kiss against his blue lips.

Could this possibly be happening? To someone like him? Was it even true, or was it a trick? If it was a trick, he never wanted to know because all he could think was how wonderful your lips felt against his somewhat chapped lips.

As you pulled away, Idia was finally able to get somewhat of a grasp on his own frantic mind only to realize he no longer has his tablet in hand. A quick glance around told him that you had his tablet held securely in your hands, grinning at him playfully.

"Alright, UnderworldBlues, if you can get through class without freaking out, I'll give you the tablet back, and maybe even another kiss if you behave. Think you can do that?"

"..."

"Idia?"

"..."

"Did you seriously just faint-?"

~~

You sat on the arm of the thorn throne of Diasomnia, the common room occupied only by yourself, Lilia, and Malleus. Silver and Sebek had classes, so they were not present despite the unusual temper Malleus had as of late. Lilia suggested the two of you should spend some of your down time with Malleus to try and lift his dour emotions from where they seemed to be stuck for the past few days. As Lilia was a trusted friend of yours and Malleus was a strong ally, you figured there was no harm in spending time with the two Fae monsters.

Malleus had calmed considerably with you and Lilia by his side, holding his dark torch-like staff in his gloved claws. He now almost seemed to be dozing somewhat, even as you glanced at the staff resting against his leg. Somewhere, you wondered how easy it would be to distract the Dragon and escape with the clearly important item, if only to break up the monotony of the moment.

Idle hands were the devil's playthings and you were certainly more than a little bored perched next to the Dragon.

"Did you need something, my (Y/n)?"

"Hm?"

"You keep glancing in my direction as if you need to say something or would like some kind of assistance from me."

"Not really. I was just wondering why you have that staff? I thought you didn't have a magestone weapon since you're a Dragon?"

"It is true, I have very little use for a magestone myself, so you have likely never seen it before. This staff is my magestone, you are correct. You are also correct in assuming I have little use for weapons. My fire and my claws are my weapons, most times."

"So, it wouldn't be a big deal if someone took it away, like it was for Leona?"

"Of course not. Strong and versed in magic as Kingscholar may be, he still does not have the same adeptness in-"

The green eyes of the Dragon widened in surprise as you leaned over, catching his lips in a tender kiss that left him breathless. Despite all of his power and his abilities, he was rendered mute and dumb from the sudden show of affection. He didn't resist the pull of his staff from his hand even as you pulled back to grin triumphantly. In fact, he didn't seem to have much of a reaction other than a vaguely humored grin.

Though it was quite a small expression on the outside, Lilia could see how Malleus prepared to pounce from the tension in the Dragon's shoulders, wings, and tail. You were far too interested in the staff that now sat in your hands- examining the green gemstone affixed in the top- to realize that the Dragon was not about to let such a small show of affection satisfy his sudden cravings. A sudden tug at the front of your shirt had you locking lips with the Dragon yet again, being pulled into the lap of the beast who seemed all too eager to take what had been offered.

"T-Tsuno-!"

"Hush now, my dear mate. You should know better than to tease a Dragon. Didn't you know that even one little kiss is considered enough invitation to mate?"

"But I-"

"You," he interrupted, "will not be going anywhere for the next few days. I intend to christen this- our first day as official mates- with many sleepless nights spent entangled in the embrace of passion. Prepare yourself, my soft little Human mate, because you may regret teasing me so callously."

[yanderefarm]

Now I need us “pretending” to forget about Emil, only to actully forget about it him.

Like, as a punishment we lock him in the basement and forget about him as a joke, send a maid down there once a day to feed him, but then we genuinely forget about with him, because we didn’t realize how much work Emil does.

He gets feed once a day from a maid, but that’s the only interaction he has. (Need some more angst before it gets fluffy🙏🙏)

part 3 of this & 2

i don't know why i love this series so much i want to break emil so bad. i have so much fun writing pathetic emil whump.

cw;; domestic abuse, drugging, unsanitary, manipulation, dehumanization

things had been relatively peaceful since starting the divorce process. a process you had paid the information guild to purposely obstruct and delay while also leaking all the information about. at this point you met the guild master more than your own husband, in spite of emil's attempts. every day you would wake up to find some kind of expensive gift and your maids would inform you that emil was there to see you, to which you would dismiss both. but emil kept trying.

he wasn't even being drugged anymore but the effects had clearly taken their toll on his mind. according to the servants of the main house he wasn't doing his work, he would spend all his time wandering or sitting like he was the living dead, and they even heard him crying. your name and even mention of the queen title had been all but banned by his advisors in an attempt to get him to pull himself together. he wasn't.

the first time you saw him in 6 months was shortly after a meeting with the guild master discussing your next steps to take over the kingdom. you had decided with everything squared away you would go out for a walk by the fountain.

the moon was the only light on the usually vibrant garden, casting it in a somber darkness. the air was cold and heavy with the chilling change of seasons on the horizon so you were wrapped in a shawl. it was the perfect night to find him. your husband was standing on the bridge overlooking the fountain, he was staring down into the water longingly. you could see from his reflection in the water his eyes were sunken and there were bags under them, his hair was messy and uncombed, and he was paler than normal. he looked sickly and the cold blank look in his eyes didn't help.

he didn't even seem to notice as you approached when usually he would be on high alert or draw his sword. or he did notice.

"if you're going to kill me please make it quick." he must have thought you were some kind of assassin but more notably his voice was so soft and weak unlike anything you'd ever heard from him.

"i have no intention of killing you." your voice made his head shoot up with all the speed his weakened state could allow.

fresh tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "(y/n)..? are you... real..?"

he stumbled towards you his feet struggling to carry him. you reached out and caught his surprisingly light body.

"you're re-"

"what's wrong with you? do you think dying will make things better?"

he flinched and his head fell to the ground.

"i thought you would break eventually and just admit you were wrong. but you'd rather die, hm?"

"i- you- i tried-"

"i don't want your excuses, emil."

he swallowed hard as tears began falling freely from his eyes. he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. you couldn't help but take some kind of pity on the poor man, your hand running under his chin and forcing him to look back at your face.

"you're so pathetic... this is what the terrible tyrant becomes?"

you ran your thumb along his bottom lip before you leaned in close enough to feel his ragged breath against your lips.

"give up your pathetic life. give everything to me. everything ends when you give it to me."

he tried to lean forward enough to catch your lips but you kept out of his reach. instead of letting him kiss you, you pulled away from him completely. you stood up straight and pulled your arms away from his body causing the pathetic man to drop onto his knees. his body hit the cobble like you'd dropped a corpse but you decided not to care, choosing to turn away instead.

you started to walk away when you heard scratching and clawing at the stone under your feet.

"-ing please. please!" his voice clearly strained to try get your attention.

you stopped in your tracks waiting for him to speak but instead you heard more clawing and shuffling. eventually you felt his head bump into your leg like a cat greeting its owner. his bloody hands grabbed your leg and he held onto you as tight as he could while rubbing his head against your leg.

"emil. let me go."

"please take it... please take everything..."

"let me go."

"you want everything its yours. please."

"emil."

you finally dared to look down at him. he was so pathetic, his tears and blood were staining your pants. you let out a heavy sigh and reached down, your hand running through his tangled mess of hair.

"if you mean that then tomorrow concede your kingdom to me."

his peachy pink eyes looked up at you.

"do you understand?"

he nodded.

"then let go. you're getting me dirty."

he hesitated but he slowly let go of your leg.

———

of course your husband came through. he did as you ordered him, meaning you ascended to the title of king ahead of your schedule. while it certainly had its benefits it did leave a few things unfinished specifically on the guild master's end. so after everything settled into place you used your new found power to help staple in the final touches.

your husband who had been so happy to have you next to him again the past few months had to resume the drugs just so your hard work wouldn't completely slip away. he was still walking around like a corpse just a better maintained one. but no one seemed to have the time to pay much mind in the chaos of making you king. no one had the time to wonder where he went near the end of the chaos as you took over. and it was only when it was too late did his advisors even notice he wasn't anywhere to be found in the castle. you had to reassure them that he was currently tucked away from the public receiving the utmost medical care for his poor condition.

you ran a hand through your hair as you descended the dungeon steps, you were currently complaining to your maid about all the tedious parts of your job. there was an undeniable smile on your face though, the pride of having the most powerful kingdom in your hands made even the tedium valuable. your smile only widened twisting into a sick smirk as your torch caught onto the dirty form of your caged husband. he was on his knees clinging to the bars of his cell with tearful dead eyes.

"how long has it been, emil...?"

you walked over and crouched in front of him, he immediately went to push his head against your hand.

"your highness it's been 6 months since your last visit." your maid hung the torch nearby.

"really...? it's been over a year since i started this..."

your maid set about preparing emil's food while you pet him gently.

"i didn't mean to forget you down here."

the poor man didn't even seem to realize as he rubbed his head against your hand.

"oh emil... to think it only took a little over a year to break the mad king. to take everything away from you. to trap you in a little cage like you did my family."

the maid returned with some fresh water and a bowl of porridge. you pulled away from emil as she gave him his food. you watched his pathetic eyes look up at you desperately and you cocked your head to the side.

"your highness he's asking permission to eat."

your eyes lit up as you looked over at your maid. "oh my goodness!! you're incredible! i remember telling you i wanted to train him but to think you really went the extra mile..."

"thank you, sir. it's an absolute honor to break the man who destroyed my home."

your smile didn't fade as you looked down at the pleading former tyrant. "go ahead. but you can't use your hands."

emil hesitated before he finally shoved his face down into the bowl, eating like a pig with slop. it was a disgusting but amusing site, you and your maid had a good laugh at his expense.

once he was done you decided to give him a reward for good behavior. you crouched down in front of him and gently cleaned the mess off his face with a warm wash cloth. it was the closest thing he'd had to a real bath in the past 6 months. he was sobbing as he leaned into your hands.

it didn't last as long as he'd liked and you pulled away again.

"continue training him. id like to parade him around eventually so we should work with that goal in mind."

"you'll have his complete obedience. he won't even think to breathe without your permission."

"wonderful." you ran a hand down through his tangled mess of hair. "... I'll give you a budget so you can properly turn this area into the perfect training facility and our private friend can help you with the details."

"i look forward to it, your highness."

"i do too. when we're done with you you'll finally tell me you love me. you'll thank me for all of this, emi."

all you got was a whimper in response. you left your precious husband down in the dungeon, a forgotten and disgraced king.

[just-null]

which of the clones would we soften up to first? because it's gonna happen eventually, right? I imagine it's Urogi > Karaku > Aizetsu > Sekido

Aizetsu then Karaku, i think.... Urogi and Sekido are spot on yeah!

Who you choose to pursue first is up to you. This is who gets all mushy for you in what order. once you have Urogi pining, youre hard locked into their route, sorries.

[rambling about losers softening up]

Urogi, he's just a needy guy who gets pretty hungry.. It's easy to set him off at first because while he's reckless, he's not about to trust a stranger! His problem is when optimism and overconfidence accidentally mix making him receptive to you. You can't do anything to him, he's upper four! but once he's in the palm of your hand, he'll refuse to leave. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and any kindness and tending make him really happy. Being with you brings a different kind of joy he never expected. It's warmer, kind of nerve wracking but exciting at the same time. Like he found his place with you. His heart flutters in a way that gets him so giddy, he can't help but want to reach out to you forever! The addictive tightness in his chest pushes him to crave you, since you're the only one who makes him feel this way!

Urogi softens up to you first because you're not a real threat to them. You're just a squishy weakling! A cute one! A reaaaally really cute one, like very cute.. too cute to eat...... DEFINITELY too cute to let anyone else eat!

The rest have their guard up to some degree and won't just throw their heart around at anybody. The world is against them after all!

Aizetsu is a tough nut because of his demotivation and overall apathetic sorrow. He makes no moves to progress or distance himself in the beginning, you're just someone, and he's stagnant. he's quicker to warm up to you than Karaku if you pamper and spoil him a little. like cleaning his spear, providing a place for him to rest, to wash up, or rescuing him from the others into a quieter room. Hell, if you get him food somehow, he stares at you with wide eyes and accepts the gift. It's not difficult to notice how Aizetsu melted after a while when he quietly follows you around like an cat that's constantly seeking affection. What shocks his clone counter parts is how he willingly volunteers to actually DO things for you. You make things so bright, he can't help that he's like a moth to a flame.

That's if you're doting to some degree, but Aizetsu comes around eventually either way, just because you provide shelter (that they technically forced their way into, but never mind that.) He does things with impressive efficiency the others were not expecting he was capable of. So what if he wants to show off a little..?

Karaku isn't easy because he really feels nothing for you aside for entertainment at first. the fact you're able to juggle all four of them amused him is all. He'd enjoy picking and teasing you, the others as well. Calling out when their faces would get red around you and cackling at them. It's difficult for him to tell the difference between pleasure and actual affection, but he never thinks on it too hard. Karaku probably even flirted with you or fought for your attention cause the others wanted it. When asked about you, like your name or interests, he deflected the question. What do you mean? how was he supposed to remember that?! He realized he fell when he's on his own and finds his mind wandering to you, thinking about the little things you do. How you eat, look when something mildly upsets you, when you're genuinely happy. then cusses under his breath cause now he fell for the same trick the others did. Oh, well, no use fighting off these feelings.

Karaku is like the play boy who falls for the first time, except he just needs time around you to actually fall. he accepts it cause this just makes things ten times more interesting. Now he's emotionally invested!! The others clown on him when he slips up and calls you by your name instead of a nickname.

Now for the toughest nut to crack since he's actively rejecting these feelings, Sekido! They rejected their humanity even as a human, why the hell is he going to allow himself to get attached to their food? Because he's as foolish as the idiots he's around, including you! He finds himself sputtering for words if you agree with him after venting, actively listening to him and trying to make his life easier. he's so... conflicted. Similar to the others, he doesn't deny his feelings once they've taken root. he might as well fight air if he were to try. And it's internally comforting to have someone capable of rangling his clones to some extent..

You'd need to have the favor of the others before Sekido fully allows himself to warm up to you. Like the ultra secret tough route of a dating sim..... but its so worth it when you get to see how he sends everyone away except for you so he can "think" on his own and insists that your presence is absolutely necessary.

[lexosaurus]

Ghost Boy? In my college class? It's More Likely Than You Think

[ao3 link]

Warnings: None Words: 6,031

****

College was crazy. 

Okay?

There was absolutely no reason why college had to be as insane as it was.

Alright, maybe there was a reason. A reason called, "We have four years to make these students professionals in their chosen field, and some even less time than that."

Danny understood. He really, truly did. He knew that to work in his dream job at NASA, he needed to learn not just how to locate the constellations in the night sky, but also about subjects like chemistry, biology, calculus, physics—a lot of physics.

But seriously, when the hell was a guy supposed to sleep?

Last night's problem set only had five questions, theoretically. But it was run by a completely sadistic site that Vlad himself must have designed—that bastard—because while submitting a correct answer seemed to mark one of the five outlined stars in gold, the site also seemed to be more than happy to remove the gold star if he got a problem incorrect. 

Which meant that the theoretical five-questioned assignment ended up taking Danny many, many more questions than that. 

Just when he had thought the hell was over, he realized he still hadn't begun his paper for his mandatory freshman writing class. So then, he got the absolute pleasure of writing an essay about a stupid, Victorian-era play he didn't read regarding the symbolism of a hat as it related to...foreshadowing, or something. 

He didn't read it. He only signed up for this dumb writing seminar because the timing worked better on his schedule. He'd much rather be taking the writing class about horror novels. But unfortunately, that one happened during his mandatory physics course.

When it was all over and he finally caught sight of his pillow, he was pretty sure he’d shed a single tear. Did he remember sinking into the mattress? Closing his eyes, and drifting off?

No. He didn't. 

He was fucking tired.

But apparently, the universe did actually hate him because instead of being roused by his alarm the next morning, he was shaken by his ghost sense.

Oh yeah, apparently Skulker found his dorm.

Joy!

No seriously, fuck that guy. 

What the hell kind of sick weirdo wants to make a rug out of someone else's skin, anyway? Not to mention that Skulker had no conception of what a good time to hunt was, considering he seriously was trying to start chaos at five in the fucking morning.

Again, fuck that guy.

He only just barely had enough time to fly home, shower, hastily read over and submit his essay (he'd long since learned from high school that he couldn't trust himself that late at night to be coherent), and make a mad dash to his favorite bagel spot on the way to class.

However, the bagel guy—he had a name, Danny was almost sure—must have been under the weather today because, for some reason, he could not stop staring at Danny.

The instinct to run his hand over his face to check for post-fight ectoplasm splatters was a learned reaction at this point. But this time, he couldn't feel anything off. His skin was dry. Cold, like usual, but dry.

"Uh..." The bagel guy continued staring at him slack-jawed.

"Do I have something on my face?" 

That seemed to shake the bagel guy out of his stupor. He blinked, his eyes darting around to catch the eye of a few other customers who, for some reason, were giving Danny a really wide berth.

Did he smell or something? Had he forgotten to put his deodorant on?

Oh god, did his parents do something to make national news again? Did the news use a family photo when reporting the story or something? Why was everyone looking at him? Seriously, what the hell was going on today?

The bagel guy locked eyes with Danny once more, briefly, before darting back down to the register and handing Danny his change. "One everything bagel with cream cheese for the, uh—for—coming right up."

"Thanks," Danny said, trying to be as friendly as possible. Jazz always said that he shouldn't judge people for acting strange. That they could be going through something personal.

So, Danny shook it off. Maybe he missed a chunk of ectoplasm on his hair when he was showering. Skulker had nailed his shoulder pretty well. The green, ecto-infused smoothie he'd sipped that morning was working its magic to mend his skin, but who knew? Maybe a little bit of blood was leaking through his shirt. It wouldn't be the first time that happened, anyway.

Or the last.

Amazingly, he did get his bagel. But when the man handed it to Danny, his eyes were almost popping out of his skull. His heavily accented, "Ah, here is one—ah, your—your bagel," sounded especially halted today. 

But no. The big, gruff bagel guy wouldn't have stuttered. He wouldn't have been nervous to pass a bagel to a tired-looking college student either.

Danny must have misheard. 

He darted down the sidewalk. He was going to be late for class. And it was because of his internal panic that he didn't notice the girl with her nose buried in her cell phone at first. Not until she almost crashed into him, looked up, and nearly jumped out of her skin.

"HOLY SHIT!" she yelled, her hands flailing beside her. Her phone flew out from her fingers and clattered on the pavement.

"Sorry!" Danny scooped up her phone from the ground and handed it to her.

She stared at him as if he were completely insane, making no move to take the phone until Danny leaned forward a little closer and pointedly said, "Here."

Whether or not this girl was hungover or still drunk from whatever party she'd been at the night before, Danny did not have time to work around her brain. He was going to be late for class!

"Fuck," she said, eyes still glued on Danny. She did, however, finally reach out and gently take the offered cell phone.

Which was all he needed.

Mission accomplished, he whirled back around intending on continuing his fast-walk-nearly-run pace to the science building, but caught the eye of a biker who seemed to go into a similar trance as the bagel guy and ended up crashing straight into a parked car.

"Oh my god!" Danny darted over to the strewn biker. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine! Stay back!" the man yelled, struggling up and holding his hand out to block Danny from seeing his face.

Was this guy...cowering at him? Like he was some sort of ghost?

No, no. This was silly. Now Danny was just being paranoid.

"Just stay back!"

An oddly phrased demand, and a little biting at that, but the biker did just crash into a parked car because of Danny and that other girl—who was currently holding her phone up at Danny—so he guessed he could forgive this random dude for being a little snappish.

Danny didn't have time to dwell on this stranger anyway, because holy shit his class was starting in ten minutes and if Danny didn't get his ass to the room right now he was going to be screwed.

So with one more apology to the biker, and one more glance to the strange phone-obsessed girl, Danny adjusted the strap of his bag back over his shoulder and took off down the road.

Not literally took off. Though, he really wanted to jet through the air today. He'd had these urges to duck out of sight and fly to class before, but it never felt so compelling as right now. 

Unfortunately, the street was crowded as shit, and in between classes as it was, the building would likely be crowded too. Finding a discreet place to transform would probably take just as long as running to the classroom like his half-life depended on it. And so, the latter option it was.

Somehow, he managed to make it to class with five minutes to spare. Okay, maybe not somehow. Maybe he did risk using his flight to propel him forward a little bit. Could anyone blame him? 

College was crazy. And anyone who thought they saw a guy not quite touching the ground when he walked could have just as easily been sleep-deprived and were almost certainly hallucinating. Humans couldn't fly! Only ghosts could fly, and Danny Fenton was clearly a human college student just running to class.

Gaslight, gatekeep, ghostboss—or whatever the saying was.

Energy was buzzing in Danny’s veins, and he found it a little difficult to stay in his seat. An aftereffect of only barely using his flight powers, he was sure. His body got a taste of being airborne, and now it didn't want to return to the laws of gravity.

Danny could forgive his ghost core for that. Gravity could be very exhausting sometimes. Especially when he was in the middle of a ghost fight and his enemy was hurling him to the ground. But he was in a lecture, and it would look weird if this random college student was hovering over his seat, so Danny forced his butt onto the chair as he dropped his bag beside him.

Whispers fluttered around him, which wasn't too unusual. People often talked in pleading freak-out whispers to their friends after an especially grueling night of homework.

Danny was about to turn to his chemistry lecture buddy and do the same—because seriously, he was going to have nightmares over that damn assignment for weeks—when he realized that his chemistry buddy was not in his usual seat.

And then, a whisper caught the attention of his enhanced eardrum.

"...ghost..."

"...Phantom..."

Ah, that explained it. 

Oh yeah, it was all coming together now.

They must have been talking about the ghost fight from this morning, the one with Skulker. This city wasn't Amity Park, so the students here weren't exactly used to ghost attacks. Of course, the initial fight was probably very exciting for them.

And, well, his parents probably were on the news that morning, but likely only to be interviewed about the attack. Maybe they ended up rambling about ghostly habits and migration patterns or whatever other bullshit theories they’d been churning with recently.

So then, the bagel guy must have recognized Danny as a Fenton, a child of Jack and Maddie, the infamous, kooky ghost experts.

The effects of that realization were delayed, but when they finally hit, he felt like his brain was hit by a semi-truck. Because, shit. He didn't know if he could deal with his bagel guy knowing who he was. He was going to have to find a new bagel spot, wasn't he? 

Danny craned his neck over to the door. The lecture was supposed to be starting, but his chemistry buddy was nowhere to be found.

But then, to his immense relief that he wouldn't have to suffer through this lecture by himself, the door opened to reveal the tall, lanky form of Cameron, his chemistry buddy.

Danny eagerly moved his bag out of the way of Cam's seat, his woes of that fucking assignment hot on his lips, but before he could begin his trauma-dumping session, something strange happened.

Really, really strange.

As Cam began habitually walking over to his seat, he looked up, caught Danny's eye, and froze.

His mouth parted into a perfect 'o,' his eyes widened, and his eyebrows disappeared under his hairline. Then, he backed up, caught the bewildered expression of another student near him, and moved to another aisle.

Danny sat there too stunned to call out to Cam, though the intent was at the precipice of his being. Hurt stabbed his gut, and the social anxiety the A-List had trained his brain for in high school started creeping up his spine.

Did Danny do something wrong? 

Why had Cam moved away?

What did that look to the other kid mean?

He tried to think of a reason why Cam might have suddenly decided that Danny was a weirdo freak that should be avoided, but the only thing he remembered doing between yesterday and today was the two texts he'd sent at eleven last night complaining about the assignment. But surely, everyone had complained, right?

Or was the assignment genuinely effortless for everyone? And Danny was just an idiot who didn't understand some really simple concept, and now Cam had suddenly realized that he'd picked the wrong chemistry buddy to sit next to in class?

That must have been it.

Why else had he moved away?

Danny turned around, looking to the back of the lecture hall. But all he could see was a sea of faces all looking at him.

Okay, honestly, what the fuck was wrong with everyone today?

He whipped out his phone, paranoia striking through his gut like a spear. Maybe he'd accidentally revealed himself during the fight? But he checked Google, searching for Phantom's human identity, but all he got at the top of the search were old Reddit threads theorizing about which historical figure he could have been, and celebrity news sites spouting completely absurd clickbait-type theories about his past.

Is Danny Phantom Napoleon's son?

Could Danny Phantom be Related to George Washington?

New Theory Suggests Danny Phantom is Alexander the Great!

Yeah, like Danny was leading legions of ghosts around Europe anytime soon.

As Danny wracked his brain for what the hell he'd done to deserve the wrath of having his classmates stare at him like he was some sort of weird alien species and everyone was plotting on how to initiate first contact, the side door opened and the professor came darting in the hall with a stack of folders all but falling out of his hands and a muttering of breathy, "sorry, sorry," light on his lips.

The muttering broke out into jilted, uncomfortable laughter, and Danny still couldn't help the feeling that they were laughing at him. 

He tried to brush that off as just the remnants of his high school on him and keep his attention focused on his short, salt-and-pepper-haired professor who looked like he couldn't remember if he was going to a beach party or Burning Man today, and decided to dress for both. 

Yang put the manila folders down on the front table, miraculously without spilling any of the contents inside, set his bag down on the rolling chair beside him, and picked up a piece of chalk to face the board.

He held a hand up and began writing Chemistry 101 — Stoichiometry on the board.

Behind Danny, the snickers grew louder. 

Was there some inside joke that he just wasn't getting? Had his classmates prepared some sort of prank for the teacher today and Danny hadn't read the email? Was it April Fool's Day, even though logic and reasoning told Danny that it was only October?

"Sorry I was late, everyone," Yang began. "Now if you don't mind, I want to begin by going over a few problems from last night's assignment. I noticed a pattern in the problems everyone was getting wrong..."

Someone coughed rather obnoxiously behind him.

Danny felt ice begin to build in his stomach. 

"...so as you can see here, I noticed a lot of people forgot to calculate the used excess of iron to find the amount of excess reactants. Remember, guys, you can't just subtract the bigger and smaller masses in the problem..."

Another obnoxious cough. 

Yang didn't break stride. "...you have to actually convert it to moles and set up your mole ratio, and then convert back to grams. I mentioned this in class but it seemed like too many of you—"

"Professor Yang?" the impatient voice of Brittany, one of his classmates, said from behind.

The class broke out in a fit of whispers and giggles, this time not even trying to hide their restlessness.

"What is it?" Yang turned around, his chalk still hovering on the board.

And then he looked at Danny. His eyes bugged out like a cartoon, sticking out beyond the rims of his glasses. His jaw opened and closed like a fish, and he dropped the chalk on the floor.

Now, the class was roaring with noise.

Danny stared eye-to-eye with the professor for ten seconds or ten minutes. He didn't know which, and it didn't matter anyway, because then Yang's thin lips opened to exclaim a word that may as well have electrocuted him all over again:

"Phantom?" 

Confusion and panic hit Danny like a sledgehammer.

How did Yang know he was Phantom? Had he been revealed? Did everyone know he was Phantom?

And then he heard the whispers. 

"It's really him! It's Phantom!"

"Why is he here?"

"It's Phantom!"

No!

No!

How did everyone know his secret?

Danny had to stop this.

He had over four years of hiding his ghost half from his parents, the world, and most impressively, his parents. Over the years, he'd honed his ability at lying and using his silver tongue to smooth over situations with such practiced ease, he was expecting his Oscar in the mail any day now.

Which is why, like an utter pro, he jumped up from his seat and shouted, "It's a lie, I'm not a ghost!"

The room went silent, and then was launched into a frenzy.

"Phantom!"

"Is he delusional?"

"It's really him! It's Phantom!"

His panic was bordering on hysteria as it stampeded over him, beating his core so furiously that Danny thought it was going to jump through his ribcage.

He stood, his gloved hands held out in front of him as he began his best at pleading with the masses, but before he could grovel too much, Professor Yang's voice sliced through him like a knife, calling out, "Phantom! What are you doing in my class?"

Wait...

Gloved hand?

Danny looked at his hands again. They were gloved.

And glowing.

The relief was so heavy on his shoulders, his back, and every inch of his skin. It was also mortifying.

Because here he was, in his Chemistry 101 class not as Fenton, but as Phantom. 

"Holy shit," Danny muttered. 

What. The. Hell.

No, really.

What the hell?

How was this happening?

Had he really been so tired that he'd forgotten to change out of his Phantom form after Skulker's fight?

No, hang on—had he been walking around in his Phantom form all morning?

How had he not noticed?

Then all the memories came flying back to him at once. The bagel guy acting weird, staring at him like he wasn't sure if he should seriously give a ghost a bagel because "Do ghosts need to eat? Is human food poison?"

And then the girl. She hadn't screamed because she nearly crashed into a stranger, she screamed and threw her phone in the air because she'd nearly crashed into Phantom. And that's why she was recording him after, too. She was recording Phantom, a ghost that wasn't native to this college town.

Danny thought he'd die of cringe-fail right there because that meant she also recorded the biker crashing into a parked car and was probably uploading it to TikTok later. He was sure it would be trending in minutes.

That was, if she hadn't already uploaded it to Tiktok, and it wasn't already trending. His phone suddenly felt heavy in his pocket. 

He looked around at the faces of intrigue and excitement, feebly attempting to squash the anxiety that was currently tap dancing over his skin.  Okay, so his initial attempt at acting hadn't gone so well. That was okay; nobody could be perfect all the time. If he just channeled the inner cool and suave hero that he was, he could totally save the situation.

For sure.

He floated a few feet in the air. His legs felt awkward sprawled out, and he tried to form a ghost-tail, but somehow his sense of self was too strong for that today. No matter, to balance it out, he splayed his arms out wide and began doing jazz hands, saying, "It's me! Danny Phantom! Just here checking your classroom for ghosts!" 

There was a moment of collective pause before his brain caught up with what his mouth said, and then he scrambled, making a big show of ducking around the room to search for...ghosts, or something. He lowered to the floor to check under the auditorium chairs, flew to the front of the room to peek around the tables, and finally went up to the ceiling to glance around the four corners of the room.

Once he felt embarrassed enough, he stopped in the center of the room, puffed out his chest, and said, "Good news, citizens! There are no ghosts in this room!"

Whispers and mutters once again broke out from his classmates, along with a few giggles. In the front of the classroom, Yang's head was craned up to look at him, his expression showing pure bafflement. 

Okay, Danny was bombing this set. He was catching onto the vibe of the room, and had come to this very astute conclusion: there was no saving this. 

Time to abort the mission.

"Well, that will be all! Have a fun class learning about chemistry!" 

And then, without another word, he jetted through the wall and into the hallway of the building, turning invisible immediately. Fortunately, with classes having started several minutes ago, the corridors were mostly empty. Only a few stragglers remained, booking it down the halls and trying to duck inconspicuously into their classrooms. 

Danny cut around a corner of the hall where, thankfully, no one was standing. That didn't stop him from triple-checking over his shoulder (it was just the water fountain, Danny) before he let his ring wash over him.

Then, when he was sure he was human again this time, he ran down the hall and pushed open the auditorium door to his class which, by the looks of things, hadn't calmed down from their encounter yet.

The door hit the wall with a bang—oops, he thought he hadn't pushed so hard—and then every head was turned to him.

"Sorry!" Danny rubbed the back of his neck and gestured vaguely to the clock on the wall. "I lost track of time."

The room was...silent. Incredibly, confoundingly silent. 

That wasn't good.

On instinct, Danny glanced down again to make sure that he was wearing his red hoodie and blue jeans and not his Phantom black and white jumpsuit. He was, in fact, wearing the right clothes. And out of the corners of his eyes, he saw the glint of his black bangs.

So then, what the fuck?

Alright, there was no need to panic. He was human, his classmates were human, they'd just met Phantom, and now Danny was busting in the classroom late. It wouldn't be the first time he was late to class, anyway. Lots of students were late for chemistry! 

With his brain sufficiently pep-talked, he pointed as inconspicuously to his seat as he could and said, "I'll just...take my seat." 

No one responded, so he took that as his cue to begin his walk of shame up the steps of the auditorium aisles to his usual seat near the front, which was still amazingly void of students anywhere near it.

"Phantom?" a voice rang out from the spattering of students around the room.

Danny missed the next step and ate shit on the floor. His bag hit his back heavily, and he could have sworn his shoe nearly flew off his feet. He scrambled to stand, his hand missing the railing only once, before he managed to stand back proud and tall. Sort of. His backpack had slid off one shoulder, and his body was hunched forward and he tried to regain his breath because holy shit, it actually really hurt for his torso to land on the corner of the step.

He rubbed his sternum, sure it was going to bruise, and coughed out, "Uh—what?"

"Phantom!" the voice, now too familiar, repeated. "You're him. Phantom."

Danny glanced up, and dread not only slammed into him with the force of a semi, but also backed up and floored it into his soul again. And again.

Because that voice was none other than his Chem 101 buddy, Cam.

No, Danny was a magnificent actor. He surely could save this one.

What did people always say? Something about the third try being a charm?

He could really use a charm right now. Unfortunately, Murphy seemed keen on watching him suffer instead.

"No—no way! I'm not a ghost! I'm totally human, guys! See?" Danny said with quite a lot of conviction, waving his hands beside his body like some sort of circus display.

It was so conclusive of a performance, that Cam simply laughed. 

Shit. This was not how he wanted today to go at all.

"I can't believe I never put it together before! Did people really buy that in your hometown?" 

"What act? I'm not acting!" Danny insisted.

But his classmates, it seemed, were even less convinced. 

"Seriously, it's so obvious."

"How did no one notice?"

"They're literally the same person it's crazy."

"What? No! No we're not the same person!" Danny insisted, trying not to sound desperate and hopelessly failing. "He's my—uh—twin? Yeah, that. He's my twin."

"He's obviously not," a classmate said.

"He is. He died in the womb," Danny refuted.

"Okay, now you're just being ridiculous."

"Does it sound better or worse if I say that my mother drank ectoplasmic smoothies while she was pregnant and that's why he turned into a ghost?"

"Fenton!" Professor Yang called out.

Danny felt his blood turn so cold they started forming frost in his veins. 

And then, he refused to look down because he was pretty sure ice crystals were glueing his feet to the floor.

In his panic, he'd totally forgotten that this was, in fact, a classroom. With a professor. And not just any professor, his chemistry professor. As in, the guy that had the sole power of crushing all of Danny's dreams of working for NASA via the power of the curve.

Yang took a step back, colliding with the chalkboard behind him and smearing white dust all over his brightly-colored shirt. But he ignored this, instead finding it more pertinent to fold his arms and regard Danny with a look of pure incredulation. "Are you really Phantom?"

"What? No!" Danny said. However, as luck would have it, that gasping answer caused him to inhale the wrong way, and coughs shot up his throat to overtake his body.

And then like the valiant superhero he was, he began having a coughing fit. In front of his classmates.

He knew Sam and Tucker always called him a dork, but this was really unfair.

"You okay, Phantom?" one student asked.

Danny tried to argue, "I'm not Phantom," but unfortunately for him, he hadn't stopped coughing yet.

Taking his silence for a confirmation that he was in fact the elusive ghost known as Phantom, another classmate commented, "I didn't know Phantom breathed."

Not-so-quiet whispers and mutters broke out around the class at once discussing theories of his cardiovascular system.

All while Danny was doubled over, trying desperately to reclaim what little of his dignity was still left. As well as reclaim some of the oxygen that his body seemed more than willing to push away for some reason.

Seriously, was he out of karma yet? 

Okay, Universe, if this is your way getting back at me for reading the Cliffnotes of that book for the essay last night, I get it. Cheating is bad, blah blah blah. I'm very sorry in a deeply remorseful way, so can we please stop ruining my life now?

"...so he wouldn't need to breathe!" A classmate's voice had stepped above the rest.

"That's what I said!"

"Dude, he's literally fallen asleep on my floor once. I'm telling you he needs to breathe."

That voice must have been Cam's.

Danny took a deep breath, regaining control of his lungs. "Wait, guys!"

But it was too late. And, oh god, why were people now giggling over their phones? Had someone taken a video of him earlier? Was he trending online right now?

If this got back to Sam and Tucker, he was never going to live this down. 

"Okay, okay!" Yang's voice rose in volume. "Class, settle down!"

The class went silent.

"Alright, I know we are all curious to know about Fenton's secret double life—"

"I don't have a secret double life!"

"Sure you don't, Phantom," Cam said.

"—But please, we do actually have quite a bit of material to cover today, judging by the very impressive homework scores from last night. And, by the way, class, might I remind you all that my office hours are on Mondays and Wednesdays from two to four. I won't name names, but I'll just say that if you need to make it a point to come for some review, you know who you are."

Was Yang looking at him?

"Regardless, if Fenton is done screwing around with his ghost powers, we do need to get through the material sometime this year."

"But I'm not a ghost!" Danny protested.

"Dude, you're standing in a block of ice," a classmate argued. 

"Holy shit, he froze his legs to the floor!"

Danny felt frost on his cheeks. "The A/C system is broken! Everyone knows that!"

"The ice is glowing." 

"So? A lot of ice glows."

"Fenton, please." Yang had never sounded so disappointed in his life. "I'd expect anyone in this class to know that ice is made of which elements?"

Danny hated where this was going. "Hydrogen and oxygen."

"And please describe the bonds to me."

"The hydrogens have a double bond with the oxygen, and then there's two pairs of electrons leftover."

"What shape?" Yang pressed, pushing his wiry glasses up his nose.

"Bent."

"Good, thank you. So we have two hydrogen and one oxygen in an H20 molecule, yes? And so tell me, would that configuration with those two elements cause anything to glow?"

"Um, no." Danny had the sudden urge to die. "Water does not glow." 

"But, interestingly, ectoplasmic water does glow, correct? Because....?"

They'd touched over ecton science earlier in the semester. "Because ectons are larger and can sit closer to the nucleus which results in atoms fusing and due to the greater amounts of energy they emit, some this excess energy can be seen in our visible spectrum."

Yang smiled and then gestured to the seat devoid of any humans near it that Danny, previously Phantom, had been sitting in at the start of class. "Thank you, Mr. Phantom. Now, if we're all done dillydallying, we have some stoichiometry to go over."

It took Danny more than a second of the awkward silence that followed to realize that oh yeah, his feet were literally frozen in place.

"So..." He glanced around the room, meeting the expectant gazes of his classmates. "Just to be clear, none of you care that I might potentially be..."

A ghost?

Phantom?

Some sort of weird mutant hybrid thing?

"Danny, you're the only one making a big deal out of this," a classmate answered.

Danny guffawed.

"Yeah, it's whatever. You're dead, so what? We're all dead in college. You're not special."

"I have a biology lecture later right after this for my weed-out course and going to that is basically the same thing as dying, I'm pretty sure," Cam joined in.

Danny resisted the urge to smack his forehead with his open palm.

He turned back to Yang. "And if I were maybe the—uh—being that kind of has saved humanity from being invaded by ghosts give or take one or two times, would that maybe get me extra credit on the next test?"

"No."

Well, that was a brutally quick response.

Danny shrugged. "It was worth a shot." He reigned in on his core's fluttering, and the ice began to melt around his feet. 

He tried to ignore the obvious phone flipped his way as he did.

Shit, this was going to be all over social media later. How embarrassing. He could only hope that Tucker wouldn't find it. But who was he kidding? If he checked his phone, he bet he already had about sixteen messages from Tucker laughing at his misfortune.

Once he finished freeing himself from his ecto-ice like some ghost toddler, he began a very graceful and humiliating trek to his seat, complete with multiple instances of him bumping into chairs as he trudged down the row. When he finally reached his seat, it was just his luck that the rusty hinges let out an obnoxious creaking wail as he lowered himself down. He winced, hissing out apologies, but in the silent hall, the sounds of the withered metal were almost too much to bear.

It was for that reason that his entire body refused to unclench until the professor was well underway with his lecture about excess reactants and whatever else they were going to be quizzed on next week.

He tried his best to pay attention and not check his phone for the no doubt endless notifications. He'd already made his presence too obvious in this hall, anyway. Professor Yang would have been thoroughly annoyed if, after everything, Danny decided to spend the remainder of the class on his phone.

Miraculous as it was, he did manage to survive the lecture.  

After class when he finally was able to check his phone, he saw that the world was too focused on the viral posts about Phantom being spotted outside of Amity Park to give any attention to the little itty bitty post of Danny, in human form, frozen to his lecture hall floor.

As it turned out, that post only had two likes—one of them was Tucker—and one comment from a random user reading, "lol why phantom freeze that dweeby kid to the ground???"

Danny didn't resist the urge to facepalm this time, and in fact did it so hard he was surprised he didn't give himself a concussion.

Well.

At least his secret was safe.

****

"You really don't care that I'm Phantom, do you?" Danny asked, looking up from the barely clean dorm room floor that his back was currently stretched out against.

"No?" Cam glanced from his notebook. "Why?"

"Uh, I figured the whole part where I'm a part ghost would have been a little weird?"

Cam's thin brows shot up to his hairline. "You're only a part ghost?"

"Yeah? Why, what did you think?"

"Oh, I just figured you were legit dead or something."

Cam uttered those words with such nonchalance that Danny reacted immediately, shooting up from the floor so hard he accidentally switched into his Phantom form.

"You thought I was dead?" His voice echoed when he spoke, and his ghostly tail wiggled underneath him. 

Cam's pointed look and handwave were explanation enough.

"Okay, you know what? That's fair." Danny swiped his notebook off the floor and forced his adrenaline-spiked body back into human form. "That's actually super fair."

"Yeah I mean, being a ghost is sort of Phantom's whole shtick, anyway."

"Right but like...wait, you didn't even care that you thought I was a fully dead and deceased ghost taking college classes? And you still wanted to do homework with me tonight?"

Cam, once again, only gave a very lazy shrug. "Well, yeah. I just want to pass this class, dude, and we've already established that we should tag-team team this class instead of trying to rawdog it by ourselves."

"I mean...I guess?" Danny blinked at his friend, his mind reeling with astonishment. "You're weird, you know that?"

"Says the ghost-human person or whatever. Now, are we gonna finish this prelab assignment, or are you gonna keep having an existential crisis about your place in the Universe?" 

Danny slid back on the floor, propping his knees up to lay his notebook against. "No, you're right. We need to finish this prelab."

"Thank fucking god."

****

[read more of my stuff here]

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Series Synopsis: A series of (mostly) unrelated one shots, featuring Oliver Aiku somehow getting involved with the love lives of various Blue Lock characters — whether he wants to or not.

Chapter Synopsis: Oliver Aiku isn’t sure which entity he’s wronged to earn this kind of treatment, but somehow, in the days before the match against Blue Lock, he’s stuck watching over the team’s newest addition: Sae Itoshi, a rude midfielder who’d rather be in Spain (or in hell) than hanging out with him. Things get a little more complicated, though, when a cup of shitty coffee leads to a crush and Aiku is forced to intervene.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Sae x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 7.9k

Content Warnings: crack fic, sae my awkward goat, love at first sight, oliver aiku is such a bitch but he’s funny so it’s kind of okay, reader has to work in customer service 😓, this is really dumb please don’t judge my writing off of it, sae is 100% ooc don’t come at me i KNOWWW, split perspectives (it makes sense in the story), sae slander (from aiku), reader is a fan girl but she keeps it 𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙, reader’s dad has cameos but he’s just chilling tbh

A/N: the people wanted sae’s version to be posted first so uhhh here we are!! LMAO it kind of got a bit long (as usual) but it’s very silly and goofy!! anyways so this is the first entry in “oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls” i hope you all stick around for the rest 🤩‼️

Oliver Aiku likes to think he’s a fairly nice guy. He visits his grandmother every weekend, he rescues kittens from gutters (okay, it only happened once, but he still did it, so it counts), and he’s good enough at being captain of the Japanese U-20s that none of his teammates really hate him, so all in all, he can’t be doing that bad of a job. Yeah, he’s pretty sure he’s a great person, a stand-up fellow, an upstanding member of society — so why the fuck is Sae Itoshi glaring at him like that?

“What?” he says, because it was fine for the first, say, twenty minutes or so, but now it’s gone from annoying to just plain concerning. “Something going on with you?”

Sae stares at him for a moment longer, and Aiku wonders if he’s trying to communicate via telepathy. That’s a skill he’s never picked up, though, so he can only wait for Sae to speak up, which, thankfully, he eventually does.

“This coffee is shit,” he says. The way he speaks is dull and blank, his lips pinched together and his brows low over his eyes. It’s kind of a shame, in Aiku’s highly professional opinion. He’d be handsome if he smiled more; or, if not handsome, at least approachable enough to not scare away every single girl that dared to even glance at him.

“It’s not my fault,” Aiku says. “Take it up with the barista or something.”

“You’re the one who brought me here, so it is your fault,” Sae says. Aiku crosses his arms, because isn’t Sae younger than him? This feels like a level of disrespect he shouldn’t tolerate, prodigy or not.

“Nuh-uh,” he says. In hindsight, it’s not the most mature response he could’ve come up with, and Sae seems to agree, snorting derisively before using a napkin to dab at a drip of coffee running down the side of his cup.

“What a captain,” he says with a sigh. “No wonder you guys need me to play for you against those Blue Lock idiots.”

Aiku should be offended, he really should be — and he is! He is, and he’s just about to muster up some scathing retort that’ll definitely leave Sae Itoshi trembling, but then Sae’s standing up with purpose, so now he’s just intrigued instead of insulted. He follows after him as Sae holds the coffee in one hand and marches towards the counter, and when he realizes what’s about to happen, he preemptively cringes.

“Don’t yell at service workers!” Aiku says. It would’ve been heroic if he had said it loud enough for Sae to hear him, but unfortunately, it’s more of a whisper than the brave shout he had intended for it to be, so he just looks kind of stupid, as if he regularly talks to himself or something.

“Hey,” Sae says to the boy at the counter. He’s young, probably no more than fifteen or sixteen, and Aiku prays that he’s not the target of Sae’s ire. “Who made this?”

The boy squints at Sae’s cup, reading the receipt, and then he smiles innocently. “That was Y/N. Did you want to talk to her?”

“Yes,” Sae says bluntly. Aiku is about to thank whichever deity was watching over him and that boy alike, but he pauses when the rest of the kid’s statement registers. Her? Her? Is Sae seriously about to yell at a girl for making bad coffee? If she’s hot, he’ll kill Sae, no doubt about it. “And tell her to make it quick. We don’t have all day, and she’s already wasted enough of our time.”

Yeah, he’s definitely going to kill him. 

“Y/N,” a voice whispers. You’re untying your apron — your shift is just about over, and you’re ready to clock out, but for some reason your young coworker is peering into the kitchen nervously and gesturing for you to come with him. Normally, you’d tell him to handle things himself, but he’s new, so you decide to be responsible for once and follow after him, muttering curses to yourself as you retie your apron.

“What’s the matter? Did you spill something?” you say. He shakes his head, raising his hand and pointing at the counter, where two customers are waiting. You frown, because you’re pretty sure you already gave them their drinks, so there’s no reason for them to be standing there, unless maybe they want to reorder. “Wait. Did you call me to take their order? No way! My shift is over in thirty seconds!”

“No, no, I didn’t,” your coworker says. “They want to talk to you.”

“Me? Like me, specifically?” you say. He nods.

“Yeah, they asked for you by name and everything,” he says earnestly. “I think they’re mad, though.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, because the last thing you want to do is deal with a couple of prissy customers, especially not when you’re supposed to be heading home already. However, your coworker seems to be on the verge of tears, and some kind of sisterly affection tugs at your heartstrings, so you pat him on the shoulder and take his spot at the counter.

“Hi, this is Y/N. My coworker told me you needed to see me. How can I help you?” you say. Your voice is chipper and your smile is false, but they don’t need to know that. You’ve been working at the coffee shop for long enough that you’re practiced at pretending, and you know for a fact that your coworker is standing shyly at your side, probably astonished by the quality of your performance.

For a moment, neither man speaks, so you get to stare at them and make your own assumptions about who they are and what their backstories might be. It’s kind of like a hobby, a pastime for when things are slow or you’re generally annoyed about your job. You’ve developed it over the years, and luckily, these two are prime candidates for the game.

The one on the left is tall and broad, with dark hair and mysterious eyes. Curiously, one is a bright green, while the other is a softer violet, and there’s a few-days-old stubble growing on his square face, like a shadow running along his jaw. It gives him a rough appearance, like he owns a motorcycle and frequently wears leather jackets, but you want to believe that he’s gentle at heart. Maybe he has a fondness for baby animals or he likes to bake cookies or something along those lines.

The one on the right is shorter than his counterpart, and his hair is red like a sunset, pushed carelessly out of his haughty face. He’s wearing a sweater that matches his eyes, though the teal of the knitted fabric is much more muted, and you’re about to come up with some kind of fantastical explanation for who he might be when you realize that you know him.

He clears his throat, and you scramble to stand up straighter, internally screaming, because what are the odds that you’ve somehow managed to piss off the star player of your favorite soccer club’s youth team? You wonder what your father will think of you now. You wonder what you think of yourself now. What should you do? Should you tell him you recognize him? Ask for an autograph? Or should you play it cool and pretend like you don’t know him? What if he yells at you?

Actually, you wouldn’t mind it as much as normally do. When everyday customers start screaming at you for some perceived wrong that you’ve supposedly committed, you typically tune them out, and then you make fun of them with your coworkers in the back, but if it’s Sae Itoshi…well. you’ll certainly listen to every word he says, and when you return to the kitchen, you’ll write them down somewhere so you can remember the moment forever.

“He didn’t like his drink,” he says, pointing at the dark haired man.

“What?” the man shrieks. The pitch is higher than you would’ve expected from someone of his size, but it appears he realizes that, too, because then he’s coughing. “I mean, what? What are you talking about?”

“You were just complaining, Aiku,” Sae says. “You even made me come up here and get mad at this girl for you.”

The other man, who you guess is named Aiku, is turning a strange shade between magenta and beet-red, and you’re surprised there isn’t steam coming out of his ears. Given that you don’t really care about him that much, you’re instantly irritated again, because why would it matter if he didn’t like his drink? Still, you have to keep up appearances.

“My apologies, sir. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” you say. 

“No!” Aiku says. “No, it’s — hey, Sae, you were the one who was all upset, so why are you putting it on me?”

“Hm?” Sae says, obviously uninterested in the conversation already. “I dunno. Maybe it happened like that, or maybe not.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, more than a little bewildered. “Ah, I’m new here, so I’m still learning.”

Aiku, who has returned to a more normal and human color, smiles at you kindly, and he’s about to respond, ostensibly to reassure you, but then your damned coworker pipes up: “No, she’s not.”

“Ah, sorry?” Aiku says.

“She’s not new,” your coworker says again.

“‘New’ is a subjective term,” you say mechanically, wishing that it was acceptable for you to turn around and hit him in public whenever you wanted.

“I don’t think anyone would consider you to be new when you’ve been working here for three years,” your coworker says. You can imagine the innocent, guileless expression on his face right now. You want to do something violent to it.

“Ha, ha,” you say. You think your eye might twitch, too, but if Aiku or Sae notice, then neither of them point it out. “What a knowledgeable fellow we have back here.”

“It’s alright,” Aiku says. “I didn’t mind the drink. Sae’s the one who threw a fit about it.”

“I liked it,” Sae says stubbornly. “It was fine.”

You step in before Aiku can turn magenta again, because that’s probably unhealthy for him, and you don’t want to be held liable for a customer dying on your watch when you’re not even being paid for it.

“Anyways, is that all? I’m actually done with my shift, so if you guys don’t need anything else…” you trail off, though inside you’re screaming something along the lines of Sae Itoshi, please notice me and give me your autograph and oh, if you could fall in love with me, too, that would be amazing!

Of course, you can’t verbalize anything like that, so you just smile and wave until the door slams shut behind them. Then you’re yanking your apron off and balling it up before chucking it at your coworker’s face. It hits him in the nose and slides to the ground; he gives you an offended look before picking it up.

“You’re lucky it was only an apron,” you say. “You owe me big time, you little shit.”

“Huh?” he says.

“I won’t forget this!” you warn him, stomping towards the small locker room, where your precious phone is waiting for you. “You’re a major-league jerk, okay? Don’t ever ask me to cover another shift for you again!”

“Huh?” 

“What the hell was that?” Aiku snaps as soon as they’ve left the cafe, because this is totally not what he was expecting when his coach told him that he had to treat Sae nicely and make him feel welcome. 

“What was what?” Sae says. He’s sipping on his coffee sedately now, even though he was complaining about it only minutes earlier.

“Since when was I the one who was upset about my coffee?” Aiku says.

“I have a bad memory,” Sae deadpans. “I guess it could’ve been either of us.”

“That was not believable in the slightest,” Aiku feels the need to inform him. Judging by Sae’s expression, it wasn’t meant to be believable, though, and Aiku sighs. “Seriously, what’s your deal? You were just going crazy and glaring at me because you thought the coffee sucked, and now you think it’s good?”

“I should’ve waited for it to cool,” Sae says. “It’s better now. I was being hasty.”

“Uh-huh,” Aiku says. “Sure. Let’s do something else tomorrow. I don’t ever want to go back there. I don’t think I can face that girl again. She was so hot, too, and now she probably thinks I’m some ungrateful asshole…”

“I want to go back,” Sae says immediately, throwing the now-empty cup into the nearest trash can. Aiku furrows his brow at him, trying to puzzle out this latest contradiction and finding himself utterly unable to. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Aiku repeats dubiously. Tomorrow he has practice, and technically so does Sae. However, they both know that Sae doesn’t need anything as ridiculous as practice in order to win against a team of eleven high-school forwards, and he’s fairly confident that his coach will tell him to accompany the bratty Itoshi instead of showing up, since the JFU is pulling out all of the stops if it means getting Sae to stay in Japan for good.

“Tomorrow,” Sae reaffirms.

I’m a nice guy, Aiku tries to remind himself. This is what nice guys do. I’m boosting team morale. Yeah. That’s all. Captain’s duties.

Still, as he chases after Sae, who apparently doesn’t know what the word ‘stroll’ means and prefers to do everything at a brisk pace more akin to a jog, he thinks that this entire ridiculous assignment feels more like a babysitter’s duties than anything. 

“Are you serious?” your father says. In the background, the TV is playing a game between Re Al and Barcha, which is rather fitting.

“Deadly,” you say, untying the laces of your sneakers and putting them with the rest of your shoes. “It was actually him.”

“Sae Itoshi,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s back from Spain?”

“Seems like it,” you say, though now that he mentions it, you’re as confused as he is. Why is Sae Itoshi here instead of Madrid? You glance at the TV — Barcha has just scored, and the cameras are sweeping through the crowds, showing the excited fans cheering — and wonder if maybe he was fired or something. You doubt that that’s what happened; after all, he’s a consistent player, and the last time he was in a match, he even managed to outmaneuver that freaky striker who plays for Bastard München, so it would make zero sense for Re Al to let him go. Besides, even if they did, you’re sure there’s dozens of clubs that would be willing to take him, so there must be another reason for his presence in Japan.

“Huh,” your father says. “Well. Good for him.” 

“I guess so,” you say. “If I ever see him again, I’ll ask him what he’s doing in town.”

Your father chuckles, taking a sip of his beer and giving you a thumbs up. “Yeah, you do that. Let me know what he says.”

You laugh, too, sitting down at the counter and eating a plate of reheated leftovers, because you know as well as your father that the idea of you ever seeing Sae Itoshi again is more than a little far-fetched. But it’s a nice thought, and anyways the chances are never zero, so for the moment, you allow yourself to imagine. 

Aiku is seriously questioning if Sae Itoshi was sent to this earth — or at least to this country — as some kind of punishment for him. He’s not really sure what’s done that would invite such cosmic retribution, but maybe it’s one of those…what did that girl call them? Karmic debts? She had said something about the sins of his past life and all, though he can’t recall the specifics.

Wait. That’s wrong. He just never learnt them in the first place, so how could he remember them in the first place? He had broken up with her before she could explain her theories to him. This prompts a wince from him, which is further fueled by the way his t-shirt sticks to his back with sweat. It’s a distinctively uncomfortable feeling, and he’s contemplating complaining, even though it probably won’t do much.

“Shut up,” Sae says.

“I didn’t say anything!” Aiku protests, more than a little spooked, since he actually had been about to say something before Sae had cut him off.

“I can see you making faces at me,” Sae says. Considering Sae is walking ahead of him and to the side, Aiku’s not quite sure how he could tell anything about what sorts of faces Aiku is making, but unfortunately, he’s uncannily correct as always, so Aiku schools his expression into a smooth, neutral one that won’t beget reprimand from his companion.

“I can’t believe you insisted on going here straight after practice,” he says.

“This is the same time we went yesterday,” Sae says. He’s kind of an insufferable smart-ass, Aiku thinks to himself, though he’d never say as much to Sae’s face. After all, unlike his counterpart, he’s considerate like that, and he always has been.

“So? We didn’t have practice yesterday,” Aiku says. “You couldn’t even let me shower?”

“You take forever in the showers,” Sae says. This is rich, for Sae is notoriously obsessive with his skincare, and of the entire team, he takes far and away the longest to get ready. But, then again, Aiku supposes that idiocy is one of those illnesses which spreads further and further until all of one’s perspectives are tainted with the virus.

“I could’ve been quick,” he says. “It would’ve been better if I could’ve at least rinsed off so I didn’t look so gross. I want to impress that Y/N girl if she’s there again today.”

“You’re not her type,” Sae says dismissively. “So why bother?”

“How do you know? Are the two of you childhood buddies or something?” Aiku says. Sae glances at him, and of course he’s way too holier-than-thou to properly sneer, but the corners of his lips turn downwards to the same effect.

“Not too hard to figure out,” he says. 

“Well, hold on just a moment! I got the vibe that she was totally into me yesterday!” Aiku says. He actually did not get any such vibes from the barista; the only thing she seemed into was clocking out, but he’s Oliver Aiku. If he can’t get a girl, he can’t do anything. Besides, it’s not like Sae would be able to tell one way or another — Aiku and his teammate Sendou have a theory that Sae was created in a lab as some kind of experiment to make the world’s best midfielder, because the guy really doesn’t have any knowledge or concern for anything that’s unrelated to soccer.

True to form, Sae blinks unsurely. “Really?”

“Yeah, one hundred percent,” Aiku boasts, although then he’s narrowing his eyes, because such a question is so out of Sae’s character that for a moment, he wonders if there’s been a mistake and he’s actually taken some other team member of his along for this ridiculous errand.

Messy red hair. Teal eyes. Forehead creased with a frown. No, it’s definitely Sae Itoshi, that’s for sure. Just Sae Itoshi in a mood that he’s never seen before. If they were a little closer, he’d ask him what’s the big deal now, but as it is, the question would probably go unappreciated.

“Hm,” Sae says. “Whatever. We’ll see.”

“Sure,” Aiku says slowly, reaching out to hold open the door of the cafe so he can enter behind Sae, since his lovely, amazing, wonderful, kindhearted teammate so generously left it to slam shut in his face. 

What a total dick. He makes a mental note to ask the JFU for a raise, because whatever they’re giving him at the moment is definitely not enough. 

“They’re back again!” your coworker says. You’re still mad at him for yesterday, so you’ve been giving him the silent treatment the entire shift. It hasn’t gone unnoticed, but his pitiful attempts at reconciliation never include an apology, so you haven’t budged yet.

He waits for you to respond, but you’re pretty sure he’s making stuff up to get you to pay attention to him, and anyways they could be in reference to anyone, so you continue to pour milk into a cup, acting like it’s an all-consuming task which you cannot possibly complete without the utmost of concentration.

“I’m being serious! Y/N, it’s Sae Itoshi and, uh, that other dude!” he says. Your hand wobbles for the briefest moment, but you conclude that he’s most likely lying, so you steady yourself and continue pouring the milk. “Fine, be that way! I’ll serve them myself!”

You can’t even say something snarky in response, because that’ll still be a win on his part, so you huff particularly loudly to no one in particular and leave it at that.

A few minutes later, he’s back, looking so contrite that if you weren’t upset with him, you’d actually be worried. Unfortunately, you very much are upset with him, so you find it on the whole to be rather hilarious and have to suppress a laugh. 

He must take your amusement as a signal to talk, because he speaks eagerly and quickly, stumbling over his words and clasping his hands together in front of him.

“Y/N, Y/N, they’re insisting on seeing you, I told them you’re working right now — I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to do that, right? But I did, and now they really want to see you!” he says.

You’re still not entirely convinced, but if this is an act, then it’s a dedicated one, and you don’t think that he possesses that much dedication in all of his body, so maybe he’s actually telling the truth.

“Fine,” you say. “But if you’re lying, I swear I’m telling our manager to fire you.”

“I’m not!” he squeaks, darting back to the counter, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for you to catch up to him.

When you reach the front, you’re surprised to see that it is in fact Sae Itoshi and…whoever that other guy is. Aiku? Yes, that sounds right. It’s Sae and Aiku, and one looks supremely inconvenienced — this would be Sae, of course — while his friend is running a hand through his sweaty hair, flashing you a grin.

You smile back at him, because that’s what you’re trained to do, and you don’t want your coworker to tattle to your manager that you’re not abiding by the cafe’s standards of customer service. Then you stare at them until one of them starts speaking, because that’s what your entire job is, and no matter how badly you want to start gushing to Sae Itoshi about how big of a fan you are, you have to remain professional.

“Is there anything I can do for you two?” you finally say. This prompts Aiku to nod, nudging Sae in the side, which earns him a dark glare.

“I want the number two, and he’ll take the number five,” Aiku says when Sae does not speak up. You want to tell him that nobody orders like that, but you’re not supposed to and it’s really not that big of a deal either way, so you just ring up the order.

“Sounds good. Would you like to pay with cash or credit?” you say.

“Credit,” Sae says, pulling out a card that probably has a monthly spending limit higher than what you make in a year. “And we’re splitting the bill, just so you know.”

What you want to say is Wow, Sae, you’re somehow even cooler in real-life! Who’s your favorite soccer player? What’s your favorite food? Do you like Spain better, or here? What you actually say is: “No problem. I’ll have those right out for you.”

“Thanks,” Aiku says. He’s kind of charming, in a sense; you can think of several friends you have that would probably swoon at the way his smile stretches across his face, but you don’t really see the appeal. Or, maybe you would normally, but at the moment, he’s standing next to Sae Itoshi, so it’s a little hard to focus on him at all.

“Yeah,” Sae says. “Thank you. Y/N.”

He’s probably just reading off of your name tag in an effort to seem more friendly and relatable and humble and all. It’s a classic PR move that he was probably taught as soon as he joined Re Al. You know about it, though, so it shouldn’t work on you. It won’t work on you. He’s just doing what he’s trained to, the same as you are.

It works on you. You run to the back and hide your face in your hands and squeal, because Sae fucking Itoshi just said your name. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Aiku says.

“Are we just listing curse words now?” Sae says dryly. “Bitch, cunt, hell. There’s three more for you.”

“You like the barista!” Aiku accuses. If Sae was drinking something, he would’ve spit it out just then, but he’s not, so he just chokes on his saliva. 

“No way,” he says.

“Yes, you do! How else can you explain this?” Aiku says, pitching his voice up in an imitation of Sae’s. “Yeah. Thank you. Y/N. Since when do you say thank you to people?”

“Since always? I have manners,” Sae says.

“I’ve never heard you say it,” Aiku says.

“Maybe that’s more telling about you than me,” Sae suggests. Aiku scowls at him.

“You definitely like her,” he says. “No judgment here, man. She’s pretty.”

“Whatever,” Sae says. “Even if I did like her — mind you, I don’t — she’s clearly into you.”

“Me?” Aiku says. “I was just messing with you earlier, you know. Anyways, yeah, I think she’s hot, but, like, you’ve never liked a girl before, right? So I wouldn’t get in the way of that. This is a big step.”

“You’re not getting in the way of anything. Do what you want,” Sae says. 

Aiku’s already pulling out his phone and texting Sendou: big news. Lab experiment just evolved. Feels attraction and jealousy now.

“Uh-huh,” he responds absentmindedly. Sendou texts back with about fifty mind-blown emojis, and he snickers to himself, liking the message.

“Anyways, who told you I’ve never liked anyone before?” Sae says defensively. Aiku just about drops his phone, leaning forwards in interest. Could it be? Are he and Sae actually bonding? Is Sae about to tell him about his first love — who apparently is not this barista?

“I just guessed. Was I wrong?” Aiku says. He’s already trying to come up with who Sae might’ve liked — a childhood neighbor or friend? A women’s soccer player he admired? A girl he saw once in Spain but never again? Oh, that last one is particularly romantic…he’s just about accepted it as fact when Sae glares at him.

“No,” he says. Aiku’s dreams are shattered in an instant, but he can only shake his head while chuckling, both because Sae has inadvertently admitted that he actually does like that Y/N girl, and because he was an idiot for believing that ‘Sae Itoshi’ and ‘romantic’ could ever belong together in one sentence.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

“What do I do?” you say. You and your coworker are back on speaking terms, mostly because you have no one else to talk to and are so desperate that you’re willing to temporarily forgive him. 

“Make their drinks?” he says. You give him a dirty look as you begin mixing up their orders. 

“Not about that. I’m such a huge fan of Sae’s, and this is the second time I’m making a drink for him. It’s kind of like fate, don’t you think? Should I try to talk to him or something?” you say.

“Do you want to?” your coworker says. It’s a slower time of day, so he has nothing to do but sit and watch you — at least, nothing immediate. There’s certainly things he could be doing, but you’re not about to chide him when you’re the reason he’s slacking off.

“Obviously! But what am I supposed to even say? I’ll sound like a creep if I just start acting like a fan-girl!” you say.

“That’s true,” your coworker says. “You kind of sound like one even now…”

“Ugh, if you’re not going to be helpful, then go organize the storeroom or something!”

“What about her makes you like her?” Aiku presses.

“Are we still on this?” Sae says, as if they’ve been talking about it for hours. “I don’t like her.”

“It’s not like you talked to her for a while…was it really just her looks?” Aiku says. “Damn. Didn’t think you were the shallow type.”

“I am not the shallow type!” Sae says.

“That sounds like something that a shallow person would say,” Aiku teases.

“Shut up,” Sae says. Aiku doesn’t have enough fingers or toes to count how many times Sae’s said that particular phrase to him. Maybe if he counted all of the fingers and all of the toes of every single person in the world, he would get kind of close to what that number might be. “I’m not shallow, I don’t like her, and she’s obviously way more interested in talking to you than me, so get off my back.”

Aiku whistles. “Someone’s jealous.”

“I’m telling the JFU that you were the one who sent me back to Spain,” Sae informs him bluntly. Aiku isn’t sure if that’s a joke or a legitimate threat. It’s hard to tell with Sae sometimes.

“Are you serious?” Aiku says.

“Deadly,” Sae says.

Yep, Aiku decides. He’s serious. 

“If only that Aiku dude wasn’t there,” you lament, setting the first drink in the pick-up area and calling out Aiku’s name before returning to finish Sae’s drink. “It’d be way easier to talk to Sae without someone there to judge everything I’m saying.”

“Do you think he’d even care?” your coworker says. You shrug.

“No idea. It’s intimidating to talk to guys around their friends, though. You’re a guy yourself, so you wouldn’t get it,” you say.

“Are they even friends?” your coworker says. “Doesn’t seem like they get along that well.”

In unison, the two of you turn so you can look at the duo, who are sitting at a table right within your line of sight. As your coworker said, they don’t look like they’re friends in the slightest. Aiku is sipping on his drink with a smirk, and Sae looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than be sitting there with his not-friend.

“The point still stands,” you say. 

“Guess so,” your coworker says. Just then, Sae Itoshi happens to glance over, making direct eye contact with you. Your eyebrows raise, and your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught. Aiku turns to follow Sae’s line of sight as you weigh your options. Should you pretend like you weren’t doing anything? Should you wave?

You decide to just smile again before returning to the drink you were supposed to be working on. Your coworker, who saw the entire exchange, cannot stop laughing.

“It’s over for you,” he says. “He definitely thinks you’re a creepy fan-girl now. You can kiss that autograph goodbye.”

“You’re lucky I’m too lazy to remake this drink,” you say. “Because otherwise, I’d spill it on you.”

“That’s against company policy,” he says.

“By accident, of course,” you say with a malicious grin.

“That’s against company policy, too!” 

“Look, she just smiled at you. I bet she was looking at you the entire time,” Sae says coolly. “You should ask for her number. You already said you think she’s beautiful.”

“I said she’s hot. I’m not all poetic and shit like that,” Aiku says. “And I wouldn’t do that. It’s against the bro code.”

“We’re not ‘bros’, so you can put that out of your head,” Sae says.

“What if I help you get her number?” Aiku says. Sae tries very hard to maintain his nonchalant look, but Aiku can tell that his curiosity has been piqued. “Will you consider me a bro then? At the minimum, will you tell the JFU that I’ve done a great job at showing you around and making you feel welcome?”

Please please please please please I really need a fucking raise Sae I’m broke please please please — 

“Sure,” Sae says.

“Sure?” Aiku says. “Yes! Okay, this will be easy.”

Sae scoffs. “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you think.”

“Believe me,” Aiku says. “You’re in the presence of a master.”

Sae doesn’t even dignify that with a response beyond the most disgusted look Aiku has ever seen on anyone, Sae or not. He’d say something, but he’s pretty sure he deserves it at least a little, and anyways a possible raise is way more important to him than being right, so he keeps his mouth shut, simply giving Sae a double-thumbs-up. He’s going to ace this new assignment, and then maybe he’ll actually be paid what he’s worth instead of pennies on the dime.

You’re about to call out Sae’s name when you realize that for some reason, both Aiku and Sae are standing there and waiting for you. You furrow your brow, because it’s both a menacing and a comical sight — the hulking Aiku, who looks like he’s about to go punch a criminal on television before flipping his hair and telling the ladies that there’s enough of him to go around, and the slender Sae Itoshi, who you can’t imagine doing anything but slamming a winning pass to one of his teammates, invariably leading to a soccer ball in his opponent’s net.

“Uh, hello,” you say.

“Hello,” Aiku says.

“Hi,” Sae says.

“I have your drink,” you say to Sae.

“I know,” he says, taking it from your hand. Of course — why else would they be here? They must’ve seen you finishing up the drink and rightly assumed that it was theirs.

“Right,” you say. Neither of them go to leave, and now you wonder if they just don’t understand social cues or something like that. “Did you guys want to order something else? My coworker would be happy to take you at the counter.”

“No,” Sae says.

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Well, I hope you enjoy your drinks.”

“We will,” Sae says with the utmost of confidence. Aiku groans and then thumps him on the back. You have a feeling you probably don’t want to know what the significance of the gesture is, but then you realize that this is probably the only chance you’ll get to have a proper conversation with Sae Itoshi, so you shove your concerns aside.

“Wait! If it doesn’t bother you too much, can I ask you a question?” you say. It’s an incredibly awkward way of going about it, but given how awkward this entire interaction has been, you don’t think it’s a huge deal. 

“Go ahead,” Aiku says. You weren’t asking him, but you guess the permission covers them both, so you square your shoulders and face Sae Itoshi, who seems entirely confused that you’re looking at him instead of Aiku. You’re not sure why he would be, since between the two of them he’s the celebrity, but maybe there’s some weird dynamic going on that you’re unaware of.

It doesn’t matter to you, though. You only have one thing to ask. You’ll never cross paths with Sae again, will you? So it’s fine. You can act a little embarrassing, and anyways, you barely make above minimum wage, so if your manager gets too upset and fires you for ‘unprofessional conduct’ or something, it won’t be a huge loss. It’ll be worth it, even, considering this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance and your coworker is busy reorganizing the storeroom like you told him to, so he’s not around to spy on you and report back to your stodgy old manager.

Taking a deep breath, you open your mouth and begin to speak. 

Aiku hadn’t dared to even dream of the possibility that the barista might already like Sae, too. Why would she? Sae had just been all weird and rude to her in the couple of times that they had spoken, so all in all she’d have to be somewhat of a masochist, or a Re Al fan (which was essentially the same thing, given the losing streak that Re Al had been on for the last month or so), to be into him. But sometimes miracles did happen and baristas were masochists, because the girl was turning to Sae with shimmering eyes and a hopeful expression and it was all going to go so well—

“What are you even doing in Japan in the first place?”

Did he hear her right? Sae is bewildered as well, but Y/N isn’t acting like she’s just asked the most ridiculous question she could’ve possibly asked. What is Sae doing in Japan? Well, he happens to be a citizen of the nation, so there’s one explanation…Aiku wants to facepalm, because now his plans have been ruined and Sae’s confidence has probably been crushed.

“Pardon?” Sae says. Aiku had told him not to act so cranky and old-man-ish when he approaches the girl, but honestly, at this point, there’s no helping him, so he doesn’t even bother with a correction.

“Why are you in Japan?” she says again, all bright and innocent and cheery. It somehow feels like she’s been faking things so far, and that this is the real her, which she’s been holding back up until this point. Aiku isn’t so sure if that’s a good thing; privately, he believes it would’ve been better if she kept holding back just a little bit longer. Long enough for her to reject Sae — who still claims he’s not into her and is just trying to ‘be friendly’, as if friendliness is something he’s well known for — and then move on with her day.

“My passport expired?” Sae says, phrasing it more like a question. “So I had to come back and get it renewed?”

His voice ticks up at the end of every sentence unsurely. It’s almost cute, like he’s a little baby chick. Aiku’s fond of chicks, so he decides he’ll step in. Just this once.

“He’s visiting from Spain to play for the Japanese U-20 team in an upcoming exhibition match,” he explains.

“Oh, wow,” she says. “But I thought you said you would rather give up on soccer or play with German college kids than ever play soccer for Japan?”

Aiku raises an eyebrow. He wasn’t aware of such sentiments, and though he’s not exactly shocked, he can’t help feeling a bit miffed. When he glances over at Sae, there’s not a trace of remorse on his face, and so he wrinkles his nose.

Forget the raise and the baby-chick-esque mannerisms alike. He’s done helping this ungrateful, no-good, lame-as-hell, girl-repelling loser for free. If Sae wants any further assistance, he’ll have to beg for it. 

“How did you know I said that?” Sae says. You clap your hand over your mouth when you realize you’ve exposed yourself.

“I, um, I was just guessing!” you say.

“Guessing?” he repeats. You swear, because that’s actually a worse explanation than the original one, and then you hang your head, because if the cat’s out of the bag, then there’s no way you can put it back in.

“It’s a quote from one of your interviews,” you mumble.

“What?” It’s Aiku, who immediately frowns when he realizes he’s butted in. Sae gives him an odd look out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m a big fan of yours,” you say. “The last game you played in, when you stole the ball from that Bastard München striker, was amazing! To tell you the truth, I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re in the area instead of back in Madrid. It’s a little unbelievable, you see.”

“Ah,” Sae says, and for some reason he looks uncomfortable. “Well. Yeah. It was just the issues with my passport and all. I decided to play for the U-20s because I was offered a good deal, but it’s right back to Madrid for me after that.”

“That makes sense,” you say. It’s awkward again, but in a different way. You don’t know what to say. You don’t think he does either. His drink is probably cold now, and you’re surprised that Aiku’s eyes aren’t stuck in the back of his head, given how frequently he’s been rolling them. “Can I have your autograph?”

“No,” Sae says immediately. You’re a little taken aback, and to be honest, he looks kind of horrified himself, but you know better than to nag, so you only nod at him.

“No worries—” you begin before you’re cut off by a grumbling Aiku.

“He’ll give you his number instead. Here,” Aiku says, listing off a series of digits too rapidly for you to remember. “He’ll write it down, for you, right, Sae?”

And then, to your utter disbelief, Sae Itoshi is pulling out a pen and a piece of paper from who knows where, and he’s humming in agreement.

“Right,” he says, and then he’s handing you a note with his phone number written on it in neat print and his signature in flowing cursive. “You can call me later. If you want. Y/N.”

The way he speaks is stilted and low, but you don’t mind it. Tucking the piece of paper into your apron pocket, you beam at him.

“Alright,” you say. “I’ll call you. I still have more things to ask you, so it’s good that you gave me this.”

“Yes,” Sae says. “Yes, you can do that if you’d like.”

Then he and Aiku are leaving the coffee shop, their drinks in hand, and you’re standing there in awe, wondering if that actually just happened or if it was nothing but a particularly vivid flight of fancy. 

If it’s the latter, then you almost hope it’s one you don’t ever escape from. 

“You’re welcome,” Aiku says as they leave the cafe. 

“I didn’t say thank you, you lukewarm oaf,” Sae says. Aiku shrugs. He’s hard to ruffle, after all. It’s the reason why he stepped in and rescued Sae from that little mistake of his. He just couldn’t bear the thought of his dear junior losing the girl of his dreams because of a slip of his tongue, even if aforementioned junior is the insufferable smart-ass type.

Well, the thought of the money he’ll make if Sae speaks of him highly to the JFU doesn’t hurt, either, but that’s less altruistic, so he prefers to stick to the first explanation.

“I bet you feel it, though,” Aiku says.

“Shut up,” Sae says. 

It’s a good thing babies are born every minute. Otherwise, given how frequently Sae says that particular phrase, Aiku really might run out of things to count on. 

You’ve typed the number on the piece of paper into your phone, and now you’re staring at it blankly, wondering if you should press the green call button. What if it was a prank? What if it wasn’t? Because then you’ll have to actually talk to Sae Itoshi, and you’re not so sure you can do that.

In a fit of inspiration, you slam your index finger against your screen and hold your phone up to your ear. It rings a couple of times, each subsequent one worsening the pit in your stomach, but then it stops ringing entirely, which can only mean one thing: Sae, if this really is his number, has answered.

“Hello?” you say.

“Hello?” he responds. “Y/N?”

“Yes!” you say. “It’s me. Y/N. Like you said.”

“Cool,” he says. “It’s Sae. Which I guess you knew, since you called me.”

“The confirmation was nice,” you say, internally sighing in relief. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. It’s mannerly but also a little sarcastic, albeit not in a mean way. You don’t mind it much. “You said you had to ask me some things?”

The two of you spend the next few minutes in a setting kind of like an interview, in that you drill him with questions and he answers them all patiently. He’s kind about it, humoring you even though he doesn’t have to, and he never threatens to hang up, which you do appreciate.

“Would you mind if I ask a question, too?” he says when you’ve taken a break to drink some water.

“Go ahead! Although I’m not as interesting as you are,” you say.

“I think you’re probably way more interesting,” he admits. “Anyways. Are you free next weekend?”

“Uh, I think I have a shift on Saturday, but to be honest, my coworker owes me, so he can cover it. Why?” you say.

“The exhibition game that I’m playing with the U-20s for. You should come watch,” he says.

“Oh! Sure, where should I get tickets? I’d have gotten them already if I knew you were playing,” you say.

“I’m allowed to invite someone,” he says. “Friends or family. So I’m inviting you.”

“Don’t you have actual friends that you can invite?” you say before gasping. “Sorry! Sorry, that was super insensitive and rude of me. Of course I’m honored to come, I’m just confused about why I’m the one you’re inviting. Me. I’ve literally made coffee for you twice, and that’s about it.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” he says before pausing. “Um, look, Aiku told me to say this, so if it’s uncomfortable, then blame him…but I think you’re, er, beautiful?”

Your mind short-circuits. “Huh?”

“I don’t know! He’s the one who has experience, I’m just taking his advice!” Sae says, his tone souring immediately afterwards. “Trust me, it’s not like I want to. There’s many things I’d rather do than follow Oliver Aiku’s advice, but at the moment, it’s the best I can do.”

“Beautiful,” you repeat. It’s such an elegant adjective. You’ve been called pretty before, and there’s been a fair share of guys who have considered you to be hot, but beautiful…it’s nice. It’s really nice.

“Yeah,” Sae finally says. “Basically.”

“I’ll be there,” you say. There’s something like a scream bubbling in your throat, but you fight it back, knowing that it’s of the utmost importance that you maintain a relaxed demeanor.

“Great,” Sae says. “See you.”

“See you,” you say, and then you hang up before he can say anything further, because you’re already on the verge of combustion and you don’t think you can handle anything more.

Throwing your phone across the room, you give in and scream. There’s thundering footsteps, and then your father is throwing the door to your bedroom open, whipping his head around wildly.

“Is everything alright? Why are you screaming?” he says, heaving for breath, probably because he just sprinted from his spot on the couch to your bedroom in record time.

“Sae Itoshi!” you say.

“Yes?” he says, the rate of his inhales and exhales lowering as he realizes there’s no active threat to your life or property. “What about him?”

“He told me I’m beautiful and invited me to watch his game next weekend,” you say, knowing that this is going to make your father — a fellow Re Al fan — freak out.

You wait, counting down as he processes the news, unable to contain your exuberant grin, knowing exactly what’s coming. Three, two, one—

“What?”

[stxrr-strxckk]

Shakedown, 1979 1997!

(General South Park Headcannons)

A/N: Just some silly little headcannons of our favorite main 3 boys! These are non romantic but I can make romantic ones too if y'all want! Cartman isn't included in this except for little cameos he makes in the other hcs.

Any warnings?: Cartman being Cartman, a lot of swearing (obviously), Cartman is just really antisemitic.

What's on the record player?: 1979; The Smashing Pumpkins

Stan Marsh...

✭Stan and Kyle are super close in height. Like, down to the millimeter. You know how some people get measured against wood beams and there's little marks for each age? Stan and Kyle have one they share in Stan's house. Blue marks are Stan, Green marks are Kyle. He made Kyle keep his hat on when they measured since his hair gave him extra height.

"See? I'm taller!" Kyle grinned triumphantly.

"No way, dumbass. It's just that stupid fucking hair, right Cartman?" Stan looked over at his friends for approval.

Cartman nodded. "Yeah, it's that jewey ass hair, Kyle. It makes you seem taller and your nose seem smaller." Kenny's muffled snickers could be heard through his jacket.

"That isn't true, fatass!"

"Yeah stop making fun of his big nose Cartman, he can't help the fact he looks like his bitchass mom." Stan laughed, and Kyle shoved him.

"Hey! Not cool dude, that's my mom you're talking about!"

"Okay, okay, just push your hair down so we can prove I'm taller."

"No way man."

✭Once he gets older, Stan grows facial hair crazy fast. He has to shave every 2 days, at least. One time his razor broke and he had to wait until he got paid to get a new one. He grew the ugliest mustache known to man and Cartman started calling him Chewbacca. His mom said he looked just like a younger version of his father, and that's when he knew he had to get rid of it soon as possible. He wound up finding a waxing kit and tried to get rid of it that way. Long story short, he wound up with half a mustache and burns all over his upper lip. His mom had to let him use her razor to get rid of the rest of the hair. He refuses to touch any kind of wax now.

✭Listens to bands like Weezer and Blink 182, convinced their songs are made for him. "It's just like my life-" no it isn't. You're just a loser.

✭Not a very athletic guy. He's tried every sport under the sun(his parents made him), they're just not for him. He tried drama club too; hated the acting but liked the tech aspect. He ran spotlight for a few productions but ended up quitting because of how much the other guys made fun of him.

✭He had to play cello when he was younger, and quit the moment he started high school. He still knows a few songs and was pretty good.

✭He's insecure about his thick eyebrows and nose. He has a greek nose and thinks it's a lot larger than it is. Kyle judges him every time he starts talking about it.

"No, it sticks out so much! See?"

"You're joking, right?"

"No, it's so noticeable!"

"Dude. At least yours is straight. Mine is hooked. Hooked. You think I like this fuckin' thing in the middle of my face? Hell no!"

✭Whenever he's pissed at Kyle he ends up complaining to Kenny since he can keep secrets better than Cartman (and because people can never tell what Kenny's saying)

"And then he said 'grow up Stan, it's not too big a deal!' Like he wasn't just hung up about some girl rejecting him- At least me and Wendy actually dated! You know who wants to date him? No one! He's never even had a girlfriend. Yeah, you know that girl from Canada who he talked to online for a whole year before she ghosted him? That was a fake account me and the guys made to troll him. He never realized. And what's funnier is that-"

"Dude, you've been talking for like, ten hours. I need to get to sleep, it's a school night.

"Right. Sorry. But can I just say-"

"Out."

"Alright, I'm leaving. But Kyle's such a dick, he won't even stand up to his mom for me-."

Kenny has to push him out the door and lock it so he can't get back in. Then Stan and Kyle make up a week later and everything goes back to normal.

✭Was actually convinced he had superpowers when he was younger, around 5 or 6. He predicted it would rain once and all of a sudden he thinks he controls the weather. He told the guys and when they called his bluff he got super pissed and made everyone on the playground watch as he used his weather powers to try and make lightning strike. He ended up falling off the monkey bars and he now refuses to go anywhere near them.

Kyle Broflovski...

✭Puberty hit him like a truck. And not in a good way. All of a sudden he's 8 inches taller, growing a ratty mustache, with some of the worst acne and and a voice that cracks like no other. (Cartman makes fun of his voice until his starts cracking too. The hypocrisy is wild.) He was also the first in the group to start puberty. He thought he'd feel so mature and cool but ended up hating it.

✭Thankfully, now that he's taller he can actually play basketball without getting blocked by everyone. He's the tallest in the group, around 6'2 or so.

✭He has prescription glasses but never wears them because he thinks they make him look dorky. They do, but that's only because his mom picked out the thickest frames so they wouldn't break easily. When he's wearing glasses, he looks like Bart Simpson in the episode The Last Temptation of Homer, when he gets all nerdy and shit. Kyle even has the orthopedic shoes to boot.

✭He runs a dnd campaign for him, Stan, Kenny, Tweek, Craig, and Token. He used to invite Cartman but after his millionth tantrum they decided it was better without him. Kyle usually dms and sometimes writes a few of his own oneshots for the gang to do.

"Okay, as you trudge through the jungles of Chult, an animalistic cry pierces the air. Everyone roll an intelligence check!"

"This better not be another one of those dinosaurs," Stan groaned. "I just got mauled by one back there."

"Roll perception and you'll find out!" Kyle replied with a grin. "The tomb isn't far, guys. This should be one of your last encounters."

"Wait, we're not even at the tomb yet?!" Tweek's eyes widened. "We've been in this jungle for days!"

"I told you guys Tomb of Annihilation wasn't going to be an easy adventure." Kyle shrugged, before going back to business. "Okay; Craig and Token: while the rest of your party shrugs it off as just another monster you'd rather not deal with right now, you two recognize the call as a Hydra's- and it sounds hungry."

"A hydra? Dude, we are so fucked!" Stan yelled.

"Those things have like, 20 heads! Oh fuck!" Tweek added. A residual groan was heard around the table as the boys realized the danger they were in.

"This sucks ass, Kyle. How'd you talk us into this adventure? We shoulda done Curse of Strahd..." Token complained.

"Mm hmm!" Kenny agreed, crossing his arms.

"Come on guys, I believe in you! It doesn't even have that many hit points!"

"I hate to admit it, but we could really use Cartman's fireball right now." Craig sighed.

"Hey, we all agreed. He's never invited back. Not after the massacre..." Kyle shuddered.

"You're right. We'll just have to hope Princess Kenny can charm this thing." Stan nodded.

(Little bonus: Stan is a fighter, Token is a warlock, Craig is a ranger, Tweek is a paladin, Kenny doesn't have a main class he likes but mostly plays rogues or bards. Kyle usually plays as a sorcerer when he's not dming and when he's invited Cartman plays a wizard.)

✭Kyle doesn't seem like it but he actually is kind of strong. Yeah he's lanky and uncoordinated, but he can throw a pretty good right hook. He's done boxing for years. Started because he wanted to get Cartman to quit making fun of him. He's pretty fast too- he tried track out in middle and high school. He's good at jumping hurdles because of his long legs.

✭He has braces and the amount of food that gets stuck in them is criminal. He starts carrying around a little compact (the ones with two mirrors) just to make sure his teeth are clean after lunch and Cartman calls him gay for it.

"Wow Kyle, I didn't think you could get any gayer but here we are." Cartman said at lunch as Kyle whipped out a little compact.

"Shut up fatass, I'm just making sure I don't have food in my teeth like you always do."

"Ey! I do NOT have food in my teeth, thankyouverymuch." Cartman crossed his arms in a huff.

"Yeah, cus you're too busy eating everything that gets stuck in your mouth, fatboy." Stan said, Kenny laughing in agreement.

"I already told you, I'm just big boned! You're just jealous that my mom cooks me good food, not that jewey stuff Kyle always has."

"Fuck off Cartman, you'd probably eat that too."

"Yeah, no way dude. I like my food American, thank you very much."

"Dude. That's so racist."

"Oh, I'm sorry, is it racist to want to eat normal, all-American food?

✭Hear me out on this one: He's fluent in brainrot. Says skibidi on the regular, refers to himself as a sigma rizzler, all that shit. Since he has to babysit Ike all the time he's pretty caught up on gen alpha slang (Ike watches skibidi toilet unironically. He makes Kyle watch it with him). He started using it around Cartman who was convinced he made it all up. Him, Stan, and Kenny had a field day with it.

"Dude, that's so skibidi!"

"Kyle. What the fuck are you saying."

"You know, skibdi. Like, the thing on tiktok?"

"Don't tell me you don't speak brainrot, Cartman."

"I- I do too! I just... Didn't understand Kyle with his gay ass voice.

"My voice isn't gay, you gooner!"

"Hey! I'm not the gooner, you are, you... gooner!"

✭He barely ever gets haircuts. When he does, his mom just puts a bowl on his head and cuts it herself. It's part of the reason he started constantly wearing his hat. If you've seen that scene from pen15 where Maya gets her hair cut, it's just like that.

"Mom, you promise you won't go too short this time?"

"Of course bubby! It'll look the same as always, I promise."

"Mom- the clippers-"

"Shh, I know Kyle, just trust mommy."

"But the guard-"

"Trust mommy, Kyle."

"It's not the right one- it's too short-"

"No, it's okay! Trust me, I've done this more times than I can- oh."

"What? Is it bad?"

"Uh- bubby, just remember, you have a very handsome face, and if any of the boys say anything about your hair-"

"Oh, no. It's bad."

"No! No, it's just- it'll take some getting used to."

"Let me see. Where's the mirror?"

"Uh- maybe it's best if you just... Put your hat back on..."

✭He can't talk to girls for shit. Resorts to online chatrooms to try and flirt. Has gotten catfished 13 times. At least 3 of them were Cartman.

"No, Stan, I swear! She's real! Her name's Daisy, and she lives in Florida. She says she really wants to meet me, too! So I saved up for months and sent her 1500 for a first class plane ticket here. Check it out, she's pretty cute, right?"

"...Dude. That's Taylor Swift."

"Again?!"

Kenny McCormick...

✭He's a biter. And I don't even mean in a "ooh so freaky and kinky" way, I mean in a "he once bit Cartman so hard he peed his pants and refused to be within 5 feet of Kenny for a week."

✭When he gets older he ends up growing his hair out into a kind of mullet-wolf cut thing, he looks like Kurt Cobain.

✭He's actually pretty smart. He just doesn't think school is that important for him and doesn't wanna try too hard and get unwanted attention for being smart. Purposely gets Bs and Cs so his friends won't beg him for answers.

✭starts giving himself piercings once he's older. He's too poor to get them from a professional so he just uses old needles and snow to numb the pain. They almost always get infected.

✭Draws penises on his friends homework so they get in trouble when they turn it in.

"Yeah, and then she was all like- Dude!"

"What?"

"Again? Mr. Garrison is gonna collect this any second! You really had to draw a dick on it?"

"Heh, you gotta admit stan, it's pretty funny."

"Shut up fatboy, he drew it on your paper too."

"Wha- hey!"

✭He's a scrappy fighter. If a kid tries to fight him, he's biting, scratching, hair pulling, everything. 9 times out of 10 he wins and the other kid winds up absolutely wrecked. Once head-butted someone so hard he knocked out the kid's teeth. Now nobody fucks with him.

✭He was the only member of Moop who actually stuck with making music after the whole strike. He's the most musically inclined of the main 4. Wrote a few of his own songs but most of the lyrics were about loving boobs and pussy so record companies didn't end up signing him.

✭We all know he plays drums, but he also started learning electric guitar when he started his solo career. Can't sing for shit though (unless it's opera), so he tries using autotune. It just makes him sound worse.

✭He's the only member of the main 4 who's nice to Butters. Not just because he feels guilty he's a loser, but because he actually enjoys hanging out with him and how genuinely nice Butters is. The two are actually pretty good friends, Butters gets his mom to pack him extra food he gives to Kenny so he and Karen don't end up going hungry.

✭Was 100% the kid who taught everyone what sex was. Also brought his dad's nudie mags to school and showed all the guys.

"Gross, dude! What is that?"

"I dunno, I found it in my dad's room. All the girls inside are showing their boobs! Check it out!"

"Eww, why are they so pointy?"

"Because, Kyle, girls boobs start out pointy and then, once they turn 30, they get all saggy, like your mom's."

"Gross, dude! Don't talk about my mom's boobs."

"Yeah, don't talk about Kyle's mom's saggy boobs Cartman."

"Stan!"

"What? I'm defending you!"

"Hey guys, you wanna know how babies are made?"

✭As he gets older he starts to see through all of Eric's bullshit like the other guys, but still supports his ideas more than Stan and Kyle. He doesn't wanna just abandon him.

✭Amazing with kids. Shockingly so. He basically raises Karen on his own, so he knows how how to deal with kids better than the other guys. He tried to start a babysitting business after he realized how much money he could make, but if fell apart after Cartman joined and started to get the kids he babysitted involved in a ponzi scheme.

"Cartman, you did WHAT?"

"Nothing! I just had an idea..."

"Oh god, we're screwed."

"Cartman, WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"I just thought, if people invested in our business we could get them to keep hiring us, and we can get them to invest by making them give us money in exchange for more money back, and instead of actually giving them our money, we'd just give them other people's money who also invested, and then we'd have infinite money!"

"Cartman you dumbass! You ruined my business! We're bankrupt now!"

"Ohhh, I'm sorry Kenny! I just wanted to get us infinite money! But I guess if you don't need my genius ideas, I'll just start my own babysitting business and steal all your clients. Is that what you want?"

"If it means you'll leave us the fuck alone, then yeah."

A/N: Hope y'all like these hcs! I'll probably make romantic ones soon. I'm already working on some more South Park stuff, I got a few requests I'm really excited to write! Please like, follow, and repost! XX, Starr!

Wordcount:2747

[vermilionsun]

The covered in blood HCS for ais n Mhin changed my life for the better so could i ask for hcs for the rest of the LIs with the same prompt? 👀

Yes yes yes~ I hope these are just as good! :)

Disclaimer! They/Them for s/o because we love inclusivity!

Vere

Once again, Vere stood out among the patrons of The Wick. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he observed the usual crowd—a mix of the mundane and the magical. There was a tension in the air tonight, an undercurrent of unease that only served to heighten his senses.

Vere's smirk instantly vanished, replaced by a look of shock and concern as his s/o stumbled inside, covered in blood. 

Superficial

✦ "What the..." He rushed over, his heart pounding in his chest, disregarding any attention their presence might've garnered from the other patrons. "What happened?!"

"A bastard tried to stab me," they groaned. "Don't worry, I’m fine."

✦ "You're fine? You're covered in blood, you idiot!" He gently took them by the shoulders, leading them over to a secluded corner of the bar.

"It's not mine!"

✦ Vere arched an eyebrow, a mix of relief and suspicion crossing his expression. He guided them to sit down on a stool, his eyes roaming over their form, searching for any signs of injury. "Whose blood, then?" His grip on them tightened just a fraction, the protective instinct within him flaring to life.

"Can’t you guess?"

✦ "What, you expect me to guess whose blood you're wearing like a damn fashion statement—" Vere's gaze slightly widened as realization dawned upon him. "Oh…"

✦ He grabbed some napkins from the countertop and began gently wiping the blood from their face and hands, his touch uncharacteristically gentle.

✦ "You better explain exactly what happened..."

Serious

✦ His heart stopped for a moment as a wave of concern washed over him. "Darling, what have you gotten yourself into?" he exclaimed, quickly making his way over to them.

✦ Vere caught them in his arms just as they fainted, his heart pounding in his chest. He lowered them to the ground carefully, his eyes scanning their body for injuries.  "No, no, no..." he murmured, gently pulling them closer.

✦ He found a large gash on their side, the wound still fresh and bleeding profusely. Cursing under his breath, Vere immediately tore a piece of his translucent robe and used it to apply pressure to the wound.

✦ With one hand, he gently stroked their hair, his touch soft and reassuring. His other hand remained on the makeshift bandage, his slender fingers stained with their blood.

✦  "Stay with me, love," he whispered. "You can't give up now."

#1

✦ His mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do. The Wick was not the place for this kind of emergency. He glanced around the room, eyes suddenly locking with—

✦ "Leander!" 

✦ The name left his lips in an urgent shout, his attention focused on a man across the room.

✦ Leander quickly made his way over, kneeling beside Vere, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. "What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know," Vere replied, his voice tight. "They just stumbled in like this."

Leander nodded, his eyes examining the wound. He began to mutter a spell under his breath, his hands moving swiftly and with practiced precision. A pale glow enveloped his fingertips, the spell taking effect and slowing the flow of blood from the wound.

"It won’t last for long. You need to get them to a doctor."

#2

✦ He looked around for help, but the patrons of the Wick seemed more interested in their own conversations. Of course they did. Cursing under his breath, Vere picked his s/o up and ran out.

✦ "Just hang on," he repeated, his voice filled with desperation. "Please, just hang on."

✦ The minutes felt like hours as he held them close, the blood from their wound staining his clothing. Finally, he reached Kuras’ clinic.

✦ Better to be at his debt than risk his s/o’s life. 

✦ He’d give everything, all of his being, he would walk through the fires of hell and back if it meant saving them.

✦ He'll hunt the ones responsible down. Track them to the ends of the earth if he has to. And when he finds them… He'll use every skill, every trick, every ounce of his power. He'll make them wish they'd never cross him. He'll make them feel the same terror and anguish they inflicted on his beloved. Every. Last. Bit.

Kuras

Kuras was at the clinic, tidying his desk. His thoughts kept wandering back to his s/o. Something felt wrong. Suddenly his s/o stumbles into the clinic, clothes drenched in blood.

Superficial

✞ "What the-?!" He's up in an instant, moving to steady them. His heart beats faster as his brain registers the implications. He leads them to one of the beds. "Take a seat. Now."

✞ "I’m fine," they gasp. "The blood's not mine."

"I don't care. Sit down." He grabs a chair and sits beside them. His eyes meet theirs. He reaches for the blood stained fabric of their shirt. "Let me take a look. Raise your arms." The command is calm and steady. He reaches for the edge of their blood-soaked shirt, pulling it up and off their body in a single, smooth motion.

✞ His expression is neutral, but alarm bells are ringing in his head as he surveys the exposed skin for injuries. He checks for any signs of pain or discomfort as he brushes his cold fingertips over their body. His eyes linger on their chest, searching for any scratches or cuts. His gaze fixates on their stomach, where one of the largest blood stains had discolored their skin.

✞ He takes a deep breath, struggling to keep a calm facade, then turns to the small medicine cabinet beside him. He retrieves a roll of gauze and some ointment. He dips the gauze in disinfectant and positions it over their stomach, gently wiping away the blood. As the stain is gradually washed away, he is left shocked: there is no wound. No cut, no scratch, no trace of injury. His gaze flits to their face, his eyes narrowing in confusion. He doesn't know what to make of this.

✞ He sets the bloodied gauze aside, then grabs the ointment. With a steady hand, he massages it into their skin, rubbing it gently to soothe any invisible pain. He works with a slow, almost meticulous precision, his calloused fingers tracing over every inch of their skin. The ointment leaves a faint glow in its wake, highlighting the absence of any wounds or scars.

✞ "You're not injured."

"I told you so."

✞ He lets out a soft scoff, his gaze hardening. Rage and frustration seethe behind his expression, barely suppressed. "You tell it like it is a trivial matter. You arrive at my doorstep doused in blood, yet you brush aside my concern with nonchalance."

"I’m sorry, love."

✞ He freezes at the sound of their voice. He hadn't been expecting that. For a moment he remains motionless then the tension in his shoulders eases. A small flicker of hurt crosses his eyes before it is replaced by a steely glare. "Apologies won't erase the way you made me worry."

✞ A moment later, he wraps his arms around them tightly, his fingers curled possessively into their skin. His chin rests on their shoulder, breath warm against their neck. He takes a shuddering breath, feeling the erratic thrum of their heart against his chest, the solid reassurance of their presence.

✞ He suddenly freezes. His hands are pressed against their back, and his eyes dart to theirs. Something like incredulity flicker through his expression. His eyes narrow, and a dangerous edge slips into his voice. "Whose blood was this?"

Serious

✞ A sharp gasp escapes him. For a moment, Kuras simply stares, taking in their injured form. "What in the gods happened to you?"

✞ "Im... sorry..." He catches them before they can fall to the floor, supporting their limp form in his arms.

✞ He lays them on the exam table as gently as possible, ignoring how their blood seeps into the sleeves of his coat. Faint tremors wrack his hands as he starts to examine them for injuries.

✞ His fingers brush lightly all over their body. He tries desperately not to linger on the large gashes and cuts he can see through the rips in their clothing. Kuras takes a steadying breath, focusing entirely on the task at hand. Every injury has a cure. They’ll be fine, they’ll be fine, they’ll be fine….

✞ He grabs a cloth and a bottle of antiseptic, cleaning the surrounding area before setting to work stitching the cuts shut. His movements are quick, efficient, and familiar—born of centuries of practice. He continues on like this, moving from injury to injury, methodically dressing each wound with practiced precision.

✞ By the time he finishes bandaging them, his hands are smeared with drying blood. Kuras finally allows himself to slump in a chair, the adrenaline of the situation giving way to exhaustion. 

✞ He reaches forward, gently taking their hand in his, letting his thumb rest on their pulse point.

✞ His thoughts race as he looks over their bandaged form: Who did this to them? Why? How long ago? Where...

✞ He takes a calming breath, forcing himself to stay grounded. He needs answers. But that can wait. For now, all he can do is wait.

✞ His gaze stays fixed on their unconscious form, watching carefully for any signs of distress or pain. His heart still pounds in his chest. He silently pleads for them to wake up, to stir, to do something.

✞ The waiting is agony. He tries to distract himself, pacing around the room, tidying the already tidy desk, flicking through medical journals and novels. But his eyes always drift back to their unconscious form, breathing evenly beneath the layers of bandages. He checks their pulse again and again, counting the beats like a mantra.

✞ When he's on the verge of pacing a hole in the floor, he gives up and collapses back into the chair, burying his face in his hands. He has run through every possible scenario in his mind. He has no idea when they’ll wake up, if they’ll wake up, if he’ll ever…. What if this was the last time he saw them?

✞ If they do wake up, he'll be by their side immediately. He'll take stock of their condition, assure them they're safe, most likely ask what happened, try to find out who hurt them... But most of all, he'll just be glad they're awake. Glad they're alive.

✞ If they don’t… He would go to the gods-damned ends of the earth to find a way. He would move heaven and earth, he would burn this whole gods-forsaken world to the ground if it meant sparing them a single tear. They will wake up, one way or another.

Leander

Leander steps out of the tavern and inhales a deep breath of the cool evening air. The wind tousles his hair as he looks around, his gaze scanning the surroundings idly. Leander's gaze snaps towards the blood-covered figure moving towards him… his s/o.

Superficial

🗡 "What happened to you?! Are you hurt?!" He stepped forward, his hands reaching out to steady them.

"I'm okay," they breathe. "It's not my blood."

🗡 "Then whose is it?" Leander's concerned expression didn't waver.

The only response he received was a sly smile.

🗡 Leander let out a small huff colored with a hint of amusement. He looked them over once more, before running a hand through his hair, messing it up further. "You're such a troublemaker, aren't you?"

🗡 He paused for a moment, his expression becoming a bit more serious as he looked them up and down. "Seriously, though, is everything else okay? You're not hurt, right?" His eyes searched their body for any visible injuries, looking for any signs that they might be hiding something from him.

"Just a bit screwed up."

🗡 "A 'bit' screwed up?" He echoed. "You're covered in blood, and you're telling me you're just 'a bit' screwed up?"

🗡 He took a step closer, gently lifting their chin to inspect their face more closely. "Let me see." He took a moment to study their face closely, his eyes tracing over their features, taking note of any scrapes, cuts, or any other signs of injury. Despite his irritation, his touch was tender.

🗡 Finding nothing obvious, he moved his attention to their body, his hands carefully checking for any injuries that might be hidden underneath their clothes. "You can't just shrug off being covered in blood, you know. I'm worried about you." He said, his voice a bit scolding but also filled with genuine concern.

🗡 "You're impossible, you know that?" He said, shaking his head. Despite the irritated tone, there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips."Promise me you're really alright?"

"I promise"

🗡 "Anything else I should know about?"

"The dead body in the back alley?"

🗡 "There's a what in a what?" He repeated, his voice slightly higher pitched than usual, hand paused mid-motion.

Serious

🗡 Concern and worry immediately fill his features as he rushes towards them. "Oh my gods, what happened? Are you alright?"

🗡 "Hey..hey..!" Leander catches them before they hit the ground, gently lowering them down. He carefully looks them over, his eyes searching for any serious injuries or where the blood is coming from.

🗡 He gently shakes their shoulder. "Wake up, come on..." Leander's heart sinks as he sees the large gash in their stomach.

🗡 He carefully lifts their head onto his lap, his free hand rummaging in his pocket for something. He finds a small, folded cloth and quickly presses it against the source of the bleeding, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. "Stay with me, please. Please be alright..."

🗡 He quickly scoops them up in his arms, their head resting against his chest. "Hang in there, everything will be alright." With a firm grip, he hurries back inside the tavern.

🗡 He makes his way through the crowd, people stepping out of the way. "Hey, get me a first aid kit! Quickly!" He shouts. The bartender immediately grabs the kit kept behind the bar and hands it to him.

🗡 Leander gently sets his partner down on a nearby table, quickly opening the kit and rummaging through it for gauze and bandages. "Someone fetch Kuras!" He orders as he begins to clean the wound, hands steady. As he works, he speaks to his partner in a soft, soothing voice. "You're going to be alright, just hold on a little longer. I've got you."

🗡 Once the wound is cleaned, Leander carefully covers it, making sure it's secure. He glances up at his partner's face, gently brushing back some hair stuck to their forehead.

🗡 He takes a moment to catch his breath, before lifting his significant other back into his arms. He walks towards the back of the tavern, making his way to a small, secluded room. He gently sets them down on a makeshift bed, tucking a blanket around them. He sits beside them, gently grasping their hand as he waits for either Kuras or any sign of them waking up.

🗡 If they don’t wake up… he'll stop at nothing. He’ll tear down empires, lay waste to entire nations, bring down the very foundations of the fucking world.

[nomie-11]

Chapter 8 - So What?

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“So what?” Rhiannon asked, as Violet, Genevieve, and her sat in a circle on Genevieve’s bunk. “Xaden’s training you now. Wasn’t he already before?”

“No he wasn’t!” She exclaimed. “And this is different from our morning talks on the roof. He normally just gave me vague advice or changed my whole world view. Now he’s sparring with me, or at least he’s supposed to be. He says we start tomorrow.”

Violet cast a sparing glance at Rhiannon, before turning back to Genevieve. 

“So what did you do in his room at 3 am the other night?” She teased, her eyebrows wiggling. “Anything fun?”

“We just kissed,” she grumbled, “and it was definitely a mistake.”

“Oh, come on, don’t say that!” Violet said, slapping her softly on the arm. “Tell us what really happened, you’re not telling us anything.”

“Fine, fine,” Genevieve groaned, leaning back, rubbing her shoulder. “He kissed me, and he totally was in the heat of the moment, grabbing my hair, pulling me close, the whole nine yards. And then when I pulled away, I felt like I needed to kiss him again, so I did. Gods,” she paused, looking down. “He smelled like leather conditioner and mint and Churum,” 

Violet nodded her head intently, and Rhiannon looked at her with so much intensity that there was almost a flame of curiosity under her eyes. 

“And then we talked some more, and he was doubting stuff and getting into his own head, and he gave me my dead sister’s old dagger. I don’t even know why or how he got it, but I didn’t ask, I just pulled down his shirt and kissed him again before leaving. I don’t even know why I left!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands down onto the bed. 

Rhiannon and Violet just sat there, silent, eyes wide. 

“So you kissed him,” Violet started. 

“Twice.” Rhiannon finished. 

“And he kissed me first!” Genevieve emphasized. “And I wish he would have just pinned me down onto the bed and fucked me instead of messing with my head. But yes, I kissed him twice and he kissed me once.”

Genevieve swallowed hard, leaning her head back onto the wall. There was a heavy silence after Genevieve’s admission. The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, none of them seemed to know what to say. Violet was the first to break the silence, her voice soft yet laced with amusement. 

“I mean… you realize that’s not just some casual kiss, right?” She glanced at Rhiannon, who nodded eagerly, still wide-eyed. “Xaden Riorson doesn’t just kiss people for now reason.” 

Genevieve grumbled, tugging at the hem of her shirt, feeling the weight of the conversation settle over her. “I know that,” she muttered, her gaze locked onto a crack in the stone wall across from her. “But it’s like… I don’t know how to handle him. One minute he’s this wall of steel, completely untouchable, and the next… he’s pulling me close like I’m the only thing grounding him.” 

“Yeah, I assume that’s kinda his thing,” Violet mused, her expression softening as she looked at Genevieve. “He looks like the kind of guy who pushed people away because he’s afraid of what happens when they get too close. But the fact that he’s kissed you? Given you something as personal as a dagger that belonged to her sister? That’s… that’s not nothing, Genevieve.” 

Rhiannon, still processing everything, finally spoke, her voice steady but laced with curiosity. “Okay, but let’s not overlook something here. You’re talking like this kiss was some huge mistake, but it sounds like Xaden is just as caught up in you as you are in him. I mean, come one, Genevieve, if he gave you Quinn’s dagger—your dead sister’s dagger—that’s more than just attraction. He’s giving you pieces of himself. You can’t pretend like that doesn’t mean something.”

Genevieve felt her chest tighten at Rhiannon’s words. She knew they were right, and that was what terrified her. Xaden wasn’t the kind of man to give pieces of himself lightly, and she was far from the kind of person to trust anyone. Especially not with something as personal as her heart. 

“I don’t want it to mean anything,” she muttered, her voice low. “I can’t afford for it to mean anything.” 

Violet leaned forward, her eyes sharp as she studied Genevieve. “But it already does. You can’t ignore it. Whatever it is between you two, it’s not just going to disappear because you want it to. He’s pulling you into his world, and you’re letting him.” 

Genevieve let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair before roughly yanking it out and slamming her hand down. That was a Xaden mannerism, not a her mannerism. They aren’t close enough for her to be picking up his mannerisms.  

She could feel the weight of their words sinking in, but she wasn’t ready to accept it. She’d spent too long hardening herself, building walls to survive. Letting Xaden in—even letting Rhiannon and Violet it—was dangerous. It made her vulnerable and vulnerability was something she couldn’t afford. Not here. Not now. 

Rhiannon broke the silence again, softer this time. “What are you so afraid of, Genevieve?”

The question hit her harder than she expected, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. What was she afraid of? Losing control? Losing herself? Or maybe it was the idea that Xaden, someone who had seen some of the same horrors she had, could tear down the defenses she had so carefully constructed. 

“I’m afraid of what happens when he decides that I’m not worth his time anymore,” Genevieve whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m afraid of letting him in, and then watching him leave, like everyone else. I can’t handle that again.”

The room went quiet again, but this time it was comfortable. Violet and Rhiannon seemed to understand without needing to say anything. They knew what it felt like to guard your heart, to be terrified of the loss that always seemed inevitable. 

Finally, Violet spoke, her voice gentle but firm. “You can’t control what happens, Genevieve. You can’t control him, and you can’t control how he feels. But if you keep shutting him out, you’re not just protecting yourself. You’re keeping yourself from something that could be real. Maybe even good.”

Genevieve closed her eyes, her mind swirling with thoughts she didn’t want to face. It was easier when it was just survival. When everything was black and white, and when the only thing that mattered was staying alive. She hated this. This was different, it was messy and it was complicated and she wanted to stand on the edge of the roof and take a swan dive off of it instead of unpacking why it scared her so much. 

“I don’t know if I can do it,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I don’t even want to let him in. I can’t let him in.” 

“Genevieve,” Rhiannon said, her gaze softening. “We’ve all been through a lot here, and we’ve all got our own baggage. And yet, you know all about my relationship with Tara. It’s not about flinging your gates open and hoping for the best. You’ve been through too much for that, we get it. But maybe you let the door open a crack, just enough to see what’s on the other side, and let Xaden in from the storm.” 

Genevieve stared at Rhiannon, blinking blankly as the weight of her words settled like a stone in her chest. Letting Xaden in, even a little, felt like risking everything. She didn’t want to be vulnerable, not when it had cost her a year and 42 days of her life. But Rhiannon’s metaphor of a storm, of Xaden being caught outside while she sat sheltered and safe—it struck a chord deep inside her. Maybe there was truth in what she was saying. 

But she couldn’t flip a switch. Genevieve wasn’t the kind of person to ‘crack open a door’ and let someone in. The walls weren’t built to keep people out—they were there to keep her safe. She didn’t want someone to see the scars that were laid deep into the stones that were cemented around her heart. The scars, the hurt, the parts of her that were still bleeding, still raw. 

“I don’t think I can do it,” she repeated, her voice stronger. “I don’t even know how to let someone in anymore.” 

Violet leaned back, resting on her elbows. “You let us in, didn’t you? We’re having this conversation with you right now because you let us past whatever you hold onto. And you hate me, so you definitely can. It’s not like there’s a manual for this kind of thing, so maybe you just talk to him the way you talked to us. Figure it out in the long run.”

Genevieve scoffed, shaking her head. “I’ve been figuring things out as I go my whole life, and look where it’s gotten me, I’m still… this.” She gestured vaguely to herself, as if it explained everything. “I’m still this broken mess of a person who’s spent more time running from her past than attempting to live in the present. And, Violet, I don’t hate you, I hate your mom, there’s a difference. And I’m not even sure anymore that my idea of revenge being focused on you is the right answer. Everything in my head is like all jumbled up and shifted.” 

Violet raised an eyebrow at Genevieve’s last admission, her lips quirking up into a half-smile. “Aw! That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me! And that’s a start! revenge doesn’t have to be as clear cut as you thought.”

Rhiannon, sitting cross-legged, leaned in, her voice thoughtful. “Yeah, and maybe it’s not about being a ‘broken mess’ either. You survived things most people couldn’t imagine, Genevieve. You’re allowed to be a little jumbled up.” She paused, her gaze shifting as she studied Genevieve. “But you shouldn’t punish yourself for it.”

Genevieve groaned, running her hands down her face, feeling the exhaustion in her bones. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Rhiannon shrugged, her posture relaxing as she looked at Genevieve and then at Violet with an easy kind of warmth. “Maybe you don’t need to. You’ve already kissed the guy, for gods’ sake. Just… see where it goes. Stop overthinking it.”

Violet laughed, nudging Genevieve playfully. “Yeah, stop trying to plan everything five moves ahead. This isn’t a battlefield, it’s love. Sometimes you just have to throw yourself into the chaos and see what happens.” 

Genevieve shook her head, though there was a small, begrudging smile tugging at her lips. “I can’t believe you two are giving me relationship advice. Like I’m supposed to just, what, go to him tomorrow during our training and say, ‘Hey, I know we’re sparring, but could we also talk about our feelings?’” She rolled her eyes, though the sarcasm didn’t fully cover the nervous energy bubbling beneath the surface. 

Rhiannon grinned. “Exactly. Maybe mid-punch, throw in a ‘How about that kiss?’” She mimed a jab, her fist lightly hitting Violet’s arm. 

Violet dodged the playful punch with a laugh, shaking her head. “No, no, it has to be more subtle. Maybe when you’re pinning him to the ground, you can ask, ‘So, you ever think about what we’re doing here? You know, other than me kicking your ass.’”

Genevieve let out a snort of laughter despite herself, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Gods, you two are impossible.” 

But their lightheartedness, as ridiculous as it was, managed to be a rope that she was able to climb out of the heavy spiral of thoughts that had been dragging her down. Now, she had allies, people who knew her more than she liked to admit. And even if things with Xaden were complicated and messy, maybe it didn’t have to be a war. 

“Well,” Genevieve said with a sigh, standing up and stretching her arms above her head. “I’ll figure it out. Somehow. Maybe I’ll just focus on beating him in a spar tomorrow and leave the emotional stuff for later. Or never. I’m good with never.”

“Good luck with that,” Violet said with a knowing smirk. “You can try, but I have a feeling Xaden won’t let you avoid it forever.”

Rhiannon nodded, still grinning. “Yeah, especially if he’s giving you daggers and pulling you into heated kisses. I’d say he’s already in deeper than you want to admit.” 

Genevieve made a face, but she didn’t deny it. She couldn’t. Her mind was already swirling with thoughts of tomorrow—of seeing him again, of the sparring that would inevitably lead to something more, something unspoken between them. 

“Thanks, I guess.” Genevieve muttered, her voice soft, almost reluctant. “For the advice, or whatever that was.”

Rhiannon winked at her. “Anytime. We’ve got your back, Genevieve. Even when you’re being stubborn.” 

Violet added with a mischievous grin, “Yeah, and when you’re ready to admit that you love me and that I’m your best friend, you let me know.”

Genevieve smirked. “Don’t hold your breath, Sorrengail.”

With that, she shoved both of them off of her bed, a mix of strange dread and anticipation settling in her chest. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges—both on the sparring mat and in her tangled mess of emotions she was trying so hard to push aside. 

But for now, she allowed herself a small, fleeting sense of peace. Whatever happened next, she wasn’t facing it alone. She had Violet, and she had Rhiannon, and, whether she liked it or not, she had Xaden, too.

——————————

It was too early to be pulling training clothes on, too cold to be wearing anything but her warm leathers, but there she was, trudging down the cold and empty hallways of Basgiath to the training room before the sun had even risen over the horizon. It was day 1 of training with Xaden, and she wasn’t sure if she was completely ready. 

Soft mage lights from the training gym cast a warm glow down the hallway, as the deep and familiar voice of Xaden and two others drifted out of the open door and down to her. 

“So what?” The unfamiliar voice said, and Genevieve paused. “You’re training that Genevieve girl now. Weren’t you already training her before?” Her breath caught in her throat. She just had this exact conversation. She willed her feet to move forward, to interrupt the conversation before she heard something that would hurt her, but instead she pressed herself up against the walls and listened. Xaden and his friends were talking about her. 

“It’s not so what,” He snapped, and Genevieve braced herself to hear that he regretted it. “I kissed her for gods’ sake. I totally scared her off and all she wanted was a training partner not a… boyfriend.” 

The last word seemed to be choked out of his throat, as if it was physically painful for him to see himself in a situation so domestic. 

“It sounds like she kissed you back, though,” The other unfamiliar voice responded, his tone a little younger, a little more playful. “Maybe you should just wait to see what she says.”

“This is Genevieve we’re talking about,” Xaden groaned. “She’s never going to say anything unless I force it out of her or another of her friends die.”

“Listen man, neither Bodhi nor I know anything about this girl,” 

So one of their names is Bodhi. That’s a second year. I know that name. 

“You clearly seem to know her well, so just talk. Gods, love is always so complicated and brooding with you. Just let yourself have a crush on her, it’s not that deep.” Genevieve’s interest peaked. If love was always complicated with him, who else was in this equation? Her feet moved once more, taking her closer and closer to the training gym. 

“You are no help, she’s never going to-” Xaden paused as Genevieve entered the gym, his face of surprise instantly morphing into that mask he was always wearing. 

“Good morning,” She said, tossing her water bottle down onto one of the benches. “What’re you talking about?” She questioned, clearly catching him in the middle of a sentence about her. 

“Nothing, Gen,” He said, waving her off. “Let’s get started. This is Garrick Tavis and Bodhi Durran, they’ll be training with us.” 

A nickname???

“Gen?” She quickly questioned, before she could stop herself. 

Xaden’s mask crumbled for a second, panic flashing on his face as he spared a glance at Garrick, pleading for help. Garrick chuckled softly, his gaze flicking between Xaden and Genevieve with a knowing smirk. “Well, looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” he teased, leaning casually against the wall as if this was all great entertainment for him. “Xaden here’s got a soft spot, who would’ve thought?”

Bodhi, the youngest of the trio, snorted. “More like a death wish. She looks like she’s going to kill him by the end of this.”

Geneviev raised a brow, looking pointedly at Xaden, whose usual cool demeanor was unraveling faster than she’d ever seen. The mask of indifference he so often wore had fractured, leaving a man scrambling to regain control, but failing spectacularly. She could see it in the tightness of his jaw, the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as If beating between brushing off the comment or addressing it head-on. 

“Gen,” she repeated, more slowly this time, as if tasting the unfamiliar nickname on her tongue. “That’s new.” 

Xaden finally met her gaze, the weight of it landing hard, though there was something vulnerable there—an opening, a slip of the armor never let anyone close enough to see. “If you don’t like it, I can stop.”

Her eyes narrowed as she searched his face, the lingering awkwardness in the room thickening the air between them. Was this the same man who had kissed her, or was this the wingleader? The way his lips hovered over hers in her memory now seemed at odds with the uncertainty radiating from him in this moment. It was almost endearing—almost.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she instantly regretted how soft her voice sounded, how much of her own vulnerability she had let show. She was here to train, to fight, not to get caught up in Xaden’s emotional turmoil. 

Garrick straightened, looking between them with an amused tilt of his head. “Well, this is going to be interesting. I’ll give you two a minute,” he said, grabbing Bodhi by the shoulder and steering him toward the door. “C’mon, Bodhi. Let’s go pretend like we didn’t just witness the most awkward conversation of the century.”

Bodhi resisted for a second, wanting to watch the scene unfold, but eventually let Garrick drag him away. They left, leaving Genevieve and Xaden standing in the dim glow of the gym, the tension crackling between them like a box of sparks waiting to be opened. 

Xaden cleared his throat, stepping forward, his familiar stoicism slipping back into place with each step. “We should focus on training. That’s why you’re here, right?” He sidestepped the previous conversation with an ease that might have fooled someone else, but not her. Not now.

Genevieve folded her arms, her stance firm. “You kissed me, Xaden. And Violet told me I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

His dark eyes narrowed slightly, the tension in his posture rippling through his broad, muscled shoulders. “And you kissed me back.”

Silence. She opened her mouth to argue, but the truth hung between them, undeniable. She had kissed him back, and in that moment, it had been more than just a reaction—it had been something she didn't expect to feel. Desire. Affection. The very things she had told herself she didn’t need. 

Xaden took a step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, though the weight of it made her breath catch. “But I need you to understand, I’m not good at this. I can’t just… let people in. Not when I have so much at stake. I can’t risk… you.”

His words struck a chord deep within her. She knew that feeling all too well—the burden of always being on guard, of not letting anyone close for fear of losing them or herself in the process. But a part of her, the part of her that had kissed him back, didn’t want to hear it.

”And yet here we are,” she replied quietly, her heart pounding in her chest. “You kissed me, you made the choice, you let me in, whether you meant to or not.” 

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in the way his fingers tensed as they caught a knot in his hair. “That’s the problem, Genevieve. I don’t know how to stop.”

The rawness in his voice was like a dagger to her chest, cutting through the defenses she had built so carefully. She didn’t know what to say—what could she say? She wasn’t here for this, wasn’t here to get landed in whatever this was between them. She was here to get stronger, to train, to survive. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw the same struggle mirrored there—the same push and pull between duty and desire, between survival and the dangerous allure of something more. 

“Then maybe we stop pretending we can,” she whispered, the words barely audible, but the impact between them was demeaning. 

Xaden froze, his gaze locking onto hers, as if searching for any trace of hesitation. When he found none, he moved closer, the heat of his presence overwhelming as he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as he rested his other hand on the small of her back. His fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary, the simple touch sending a wave of warmth through her. 

“Garrick and Bodhi are just behind that door, Xaden,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat. “They’ve been listening the whole time.”

“I know,” he whispered back, his voice so low it reverberated through her thoughts. “But I’ll regret it if I don’t do this right now. If I don’t… let you in.”

The air between them seemed to shift, thickening with a tension that hadn’t been there a moment before. The room felt too small, the silence too heavy, and as his hand lingered on her back, Genevieve couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down her spine. Her heart pounded in her chest, the steady rhythm echoing in her ears as Xaden’s hand traced the line of her jaw, his fingers grazing her skin with a tenderness she hadn't expected. The shift from tension to something deeper was palpable, every nerve in her body humming with anticipation. 

“You’re sure this is what you want?” His voice was low, barely more than a whisper, as if the question pained him. His gaze bored into hers, intense and unyielding, giving her one last out, one last chance to retreat behind the walls she had spent so long constructing. But the gates were locked from the inside and she was beyond the walls with the door shut behind her.

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” she admitted, her voice cracking ever so slightly. It was the truth as much as she hated it. Being here, standing so close to him, the carefully drawn lines she had etched into her mind–the lines of survival, vengeance, and isolation–blurred into something she couldn’t quite understand. She couldn’t figure out how she had gone from thinking about Xaden as an obstacle to… this. 

“But I know what I feel right now,” she whispered, her voice steadying as the words hung between them. 

Xaden didn’t need to hear any more. In one swift movement, his lips were on hers, capturing her breath in a kiss that was anything but careful. It was raw, intense, and demanding. There was no hesitation now, no pretense of holding back. His hands were on her waist, pulling her closer as if he couldn’t bear the distance between them any longer. Every inch of space vanished, their bodies pressed together as the kiss deepened, fueled by the emotions they had both been too afraid to admit. 

Genevieve’s hand slipped up his chest, feeling the hard lines of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. His skin was warm, the heat radiating off of him was consuming her. The desire to have him next to her, close to her, overtook every logical thought in her mind. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as she kissed him harder, her body molding to his as if they were met to fit together. 

Xaden responded in kind, his grip tightening around her waist, his hands trailing down to her hips with a possessiveness that sent a surge of heat through her. His lips left hers only for a moment, traveling down her jawline to the sensitive skin of her neck, where he pressed a searing kiss that made her knees weaken. She gasped, the sound barely escaping her lips as her body arched into him, her fingers clutching the back of his neck as she fought to keep control of herself. 

But there was no control in this–no restraint. The emotions swirling between them, the unspoken desires, the pain, and the longing–it all came pouring out in every touch, every kiss, as if the dam they had both built had given way to the flood. Xaden’s mouth returned to hers, more urgent this time, his hands gripping her hips with a ferocity that mirrored the intensity in his kiss. He backed her up against the nearest wall, the cool stone pressing against her back as he held her there, pinned beneath his weight. 

Her breath came in ragged gasps as he kissed her again, deeper, more demanding, and she found herself kissing him back with just as much fervor. It was overwhelming, this feeling of being consumed by him, by the weight of his desire, but she didn’t want it to stop. She needed it–needed him–in a way that both terrified and excited her. 

Xaden pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. His breathing was heavy, his dark eyes smoldering with a fire that mirrored her own. His thumb brushed over her cheek, his touch gentle in contrast to the heat between them. 

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, though it was clear that stopping was the last thing he wanted to do. “Say the word and I back off and we train the way you wanted.”

Genevieve swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she fought to catch her breath. But the words never came. She just pulled him back down to her, her lips crashing into his with a fervor that left no room for doubt. This was what she wanted–what they both wanted, consequences be damned. 

For a minute, she was just 20 and he was just 23, and they were just normal students in a normal school, kissing each other. They weren’t soldiers, weren’t leaders, weren’t scarred by loss and burdened by the weight of survival. At that moment, it was just them. Just two young adults, raw and unguarded, stripped down to nothing but their desire for each other. 

And his response was immediate, his hands gripped her even tighter as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing into hers with a need that sent a thrill coursing through her. Her mind swirled, thoughts of training, vengeance, and survival slipping away as the only thing that mattered in that moment was him–his lips, his touch, the way he made her feel like she was on fire from the inside out.

The door to the training room creaked, a soft noise that barely registered in the haze of their kiss. But it was enough to remind her of where they are, of who they are. She broke the kiss, her head resting on the chest as they both struggled to catch their breath. 

“They’ll be back soon,” she whispered, her voice rough with desire. 

“I don’t care,” he replied, his voice low and full of promise as he lifted her head to his once more. His lips found hers again, in a softer, lingering kiss. 

And she didn’t care either.  For now, there was only this–only him.

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

Hey guys~ I'm a few days early with this chapter because I have been on a roll with writing, but I'm so unsure if anyone is actually reading this I got no traction on the last chapter.

I'll probably be back on Sunday with another chapter, but I don't know, if I get no traction on this chapter as well I may wait a little bit.

Thanks for reading! If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment or like the chapter and let me know you're here and reading this. I'm so unsure if anyone is actually here ;-;

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 27/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE TWENTYSIX

CHAPTER TWENTYSEVEN

                “I fatti contano più delle parole,” Leandro says, patting his face and Bradley sighs. It’s not the first time he’s had the sentiment thrown his way, and even when he’s been able to throw them back he hasn’t taken any consolation in them.

                Actions speak louder than words indeed.

…            …            …

                “Lieutenant.”

                “Admiral Kerner sir.”

                “Another care package for you.”

                Jake bites back the quip about him making an excellent delivery man. There’s friendly respectfulness, and then there is over-familiarity.

                “Thank you sir. Much appreciated.”

                “No need to thank me Lieutenant, it is definitely worth it to me to do this for Bradley. Uh. Leo.”

                “You can call him Bradley sir, I do know it’s what his name is. I just know him better as Leo.”

                “Alright then. Thank you, I know him as baby goose as well, but calling him that is likely a sure fire way to either make him angry or sad, so maybe best not to test it.”

                “Baby goose sir?”

                “Hmm. He tell you about his father?”

                “Yeah. Right. His father’s callsign was Goose. I get it.”

                “Mmm. Thought for a long time he’d follow in his father’s footsteps, join the Navy.”

                “Until his godfather pulled his papers from USNA,” Jake supplies, because Leo has told him that Admiral Kerner knows all about it, and he’s not beyond going digging and using the resources available to him. He just never thought he’d be having this kind of conversation about a boyfriend with an Admiral. Beyond bizarre on so many levels.

                “Yes. Idiotic move if you ask me. Would have been nice if Tom had been able to talk some sense into either of them…”

                “Leo’s Uncle Tom,” Jake says, hazarding a wild stab in the dark.

                “Yeah. He told you about him huh?”

                “Uh huh…” Jake says, because yes, Leo has talked about his Uncle Tom. Once. Vaguely. He guesses it makes sense that Admiral Kerner knows whoever this Tom is, if he also knows who Bradley’s godfather is. He wonders if he could just ask.

                “Of course, bunch of stubborn idiots the lot of them. Ice has the patience of a saint to put up with the pair of them. I’d have locked them in a room together years ago until one came out victorious or they actually talked… I’d have given Bradley weapons. Stacked the odds in his favor. Although Ice would have likely done the same for Maverick…”

                Ice.

                Ice is Tom?

                Iceman?

                Tom Kazansky?

                Oh shit.

                Wait.

                Maverick? Maverick Mitchell? Where does he fit into the picture?

                He doesn’t let anything show on his face, years of practice at maintaining a benign poker face, calm and unruffled. Inwardly though he’s wondering just how many fucking admirals Leo calls uncle and has them running errands for him.

                Jesus.

                But Mitchell just jumped to the top of his list of suspects of being Leo’s godfather.

…            …            …

                “Holy shit, you’re here,” Jake says, and Bradley knows in that instant that Slider didn’t spoil the surprise.

                “I sure am. And I have a hotel room. Happy for us to not see anything but the four walls, or we can do some sightseeing,” Bradley offers with a wide grin, cap pulled over his face in an attempt to hide it at least a little as people stream around them. He tugs Jake away from the main press of people and can’t stop grinning. It’s been over four months and while they’ve communicated in some way nearly every day the fact he has Jake in front of him in the flesh makes the time apart just melt away.

                “Hotel. Then maybe sightseeing. You came all this way to see me, I need to make it worth your while…”

                “Just seeing you in person makes it worth my while.”

                “God you’re a sap.”

                “Yeah well, I’ve missed you.”

                Then Jake’s kissing him, his hands on either side of Bradley’s face before they’re sliding around his neck and pulling him close and Bradley lets himself be tugged closer. Jake might get a warning about doing this in uniform, but nothing like he would get if it wasn’t Slider who has approved his extended shore leave. Bradley’s isn’t usually one to use and abuse his connections but for this? Yeah, he’ll do it in a heartbeat every single time.

…            …            …

                Jake doesn’t know where to start when faced with Leo, naked and happy in a bed with him, his whole body seems to be fizzing with sheer joy and Jake has to admit it’s contagious. Even though they’ve not seen each other for months he doesn’t feel any sense of awkwardness between them, or that there has been that much time spent apart. It’s nothing like he feared it might be, some of the horror stories he’s heard from others about deployments ruining relationships. He guesses they’re probably still in the honeymoon phase or something. He kisses up one of Leo’s thighs, lets his fingers trail up the other one, knows he might be making the other man ticklish but he likes nothing more than hearing Leo laugh freely, it’s a beautiful sound and it makes him smug when he knows he’s the cause.

                “Was going to stretch myself open, be ready and waiting for you…”

                Jake groans at the images his brain provides, drops little soft kisses up the length of Leo’s cock, doesn’t bother keeping the grin off his face. “Decided you might want the privilege this time.”

                “Yeah, you’re right… want to get my fingers in you. Jesus Leo.”

                It’d both brand new and familiar when he pushes into the tight hot clench of Leo’s body, mouth falling open to suck in more air before he leans up to kiss him. Leo’s riding him, body rocking and flexing above him, allowing Jake to get his hands everywhere. This position is definitely turning into one of Jake’s favorites. Who is he kidding, they’re all his favorite, they just have different pros and cons. He brushes a hand teasingly over Leo’s cock, smirks at the sharp intake of breath and lets his fingers dig into the flesh of Leo’s hips, hard, holds him still while Jake grinds up and he hopes he leaves the bruises that Leo likes.

…            …            …

                They don’t seem to stop touching one another for more than a few minutes. Ordering room service, curling up and watching movies, talking about a whole range of different things, pressed against each other the whole time. They sleep entwined, the large bed completely superfluous, at least when it comes to sleeping. Clothes don’t even make it out of his bag, the robes in the room and Jake’s body heat more than sufficient depending on what they’re doing. He takes a few pictures of him and Jake grinning at the camera, sends them to Vi and Jake’s sisters, ignores the teasing comments he gets back. He knows they’re all happy for them.

                He’s taking a very firm denial approach that they only have two days, but nothing in his power stops the seconds ticking away and as he watches Jake get dressed back into his uniform he feels an irrational grumpiness about life being unfair that he and Jake both have to return to the real world. Jake has insisted that he wants to say goodbye to Bradley here, in the privacy of the hotel room. Jake’s fastening his belt, his eyes haven’t left Bradley though, taking in the litter of marks left over his skin by Jake’s fingers and mouth and he lets himself run his fingers over them, presses into the ones on his hip and smirks when Jake’s eyes go darker. Then Jake’s stalking toward him, pushing him back and straddling him, hands pressing down on Bradley’s chest.

                “Can I get you to do something for me?”

                “Yeah. Of course. What do you want?” Bradley asks.

                “Next time you know we’re going to see each other, and you know in advance… I want you to not jerk off for a coupe of days. Want you to stretch yourself open until your loose and use lots of lube and then put a plug in…”

                “Fuck Jake…”

                “Yeah, want you ready for me and desperate for it… you like the sound of that darling?”

                “You know I do.”

                “Mmm. Think I’m going to let you know exactly what I’ve been thinking about doing with you when I have more time on my hands.”

                Bradley doesn’t think he whimpers, but he wouldn’t put money on it either.

…            …            …

                Two days isn’t long enough but it is still better than nothing and he’s never had anyone go to this much effort other than his family. He knows Leo is talking to his family like he’s part of it, that they have a group chat which Jake isn’t part of, and he’s fine with it. In fact he likes it, that Leo is so well liked by his family, already so involved and entwined.

                “Wow, you look… well rested,” Phoenix says and Jake smirks, because rested is not the word he’d use, but he’s in too good a mood to say something snarky back. “Thought you had a boyfriend Hangman.”

                Jake raises an eyebrow at the insinuation.

                “I do. And he’s doing very well.”

                “Wait… he was here?”

                “Yep,” Jake says, smirking because now she’s annoyed. At least he thinks so, now she simply looks speculative and Jake frowns. “What?”

                “You really like him, huh?”

                “Trace, I’m pretty sure I more than like him. He’s something special.”

                “Well, he must be if he’s putting up with you!”

                He does pull a face at that, but he feels a little icy tendril of worry that maybe what he’s feeling is too much, too fast. That maybe Leo doesn’t feel the same way. He wishes he could just pick up the phone and call his sisters, but he’s going to have to wait. He sends a message and figures out the time difference to organize a time he can talk.

…            …            …

                “So, not that I don’t like talking to you, but why me?” Sandy asks.

                “I need your advice.”

                “Uh. Okay.”

                Jake knows he’s surprised her, because they’re not the closest, however she is the one who had the longest time with their mom before she started declining. He really wishes he could talk to his mom right now, but Sandy is the next best thing, all his other sisters, especially the ones closer to his age, will potentially just tease him.

                “I think I’m in love. Not just in love… I think I love him. Like… forever kind of love him.”

                “Okay.”

                “What do you mean okay?”

                “Uh… what?”

                “Isn’t it, like, too soon?”

                “You think emotions like love have nice tidy timelines? That it’s just this thing which will happen after a set time? Really?”

                “Uh.”

                “Jake… our parents eyes met across a dance floor and mom said she knew he was the one before they’d even exchanged words. I hated Daniel the first time we met, thought he was a brainless jock. And every single time I held each of my kids for the first time I knew I would die for them. So yeah, okay. If you love him, you love him.”

                “But…”

                “But what?”

                “What if he doesn’t…”

                She’s laughing then, long, loud and gasping breaths of laughter and it sounds like she’s struggling to catch her breath, unable to say anything and it continues for far longer than he thinks warrants. What he said wasn’t even funny. This is worse than being teased. He wonders if he should hang up.

                “Oh my god, I needed that. Thank you.”

                “What?”

                “I needed the laugh. Jake. You don’t need to worry about him not feeling the same. He flew to Japan to spend two days with you.”

                “He said he had work here!”

                “Yeah, work that he more than likely organized to align with your shore leave. Your boy is as stupid for you as you are stupid for him. It’s… it’s really sweet actually.”

                “Uh… thanks?”

                “You’re welcome. We like seeing you happy. Let yourself be happy.”

                “Yeah. Okay.”

                “Okay.”

TWENTYEIGHT

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 44

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 7k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Thursday, February 4; 6:30 AM - Lucy's Room.

I bury myself in a mass of hair that tickles the tip of my nose as Lucy’s alarm goes off in the room. I groan when she moves to reach her phone where the sound is coming from. An unbearable pain shoots through my body. That bitch really didn’t hold back. I sincerely hope she’ll pay for this. I’ll have to ask Lucy for another pill. I smile as she returns to embrace me, letting out a long, low moan.

"Good morning, mi novia."

"Good morning..." I mumble.

I bury my face in her neck, losing all motivation to get up. Lucy doesn’t seem in a hurry either, so I take advantage of it for once. She kisses the top of my head.

"I must look like a real zombie..."

"No, you don’t."

"Yes, I do."

"Don’t start," she laughs. "It’s only half past six."

"Did you change the alarm?" I grumble, lifting my face from her neck.

"Yeah. I figured you wouldn’t go to class right away because of Wiegman’s meeting. We needed to catch up anyway."

Her response makes me realize I didn’t wake up once during the night. It was indeed a very restful night. I sigh deeply before resting my head against her shoulder.

"You’re right."

I let out a gasp of surprise, arching my back when Lucy’s cold hand slips under my T-shirt. She smiles sheepishly, proud of her prank.

"What are you doing! Get it out!"

"It was outside the blanket. I need to warm it up!"

"Stop it!" I cry out as she slides her hand up my back.

I wiggle to free myself from her grasp amid her laughter. In the end, I end up lying on my back to trap her hand, with Lucy half-lying on top of me. I literally melt, forgetting the reasons for my anger, when she takes advantage of the moment to kiss me tenderly.

"I’m going to take a shower," she whispers. "Stay in bed if you want."

She kisses my cheek and then gets up. The coldness of her absence envelops me the second she leaves. I watch her gather her clothes, which neither of us prepared last night. When she turns around, she notices me watching and gives me a smile accompanied by a wink before locking herself in the bathroom. I groan, burying my head in her pillow, inhaling her scent that I had missed so much. I might quickly get used to this kind of wake-up, along with her teasing. I hope everything will go well for us from now on. I couldn’t bear to lose her again. She’s always brought out the best in me, but also the worst when she’s not there. I snap out of my thoughts and reopen my eyes when the door opens twenty minutes later.

"Is my pillow working for you?" she teases.

"Perfectly," I reply as she sits down beside me and runs her hand through my hair.

"I’d love to let you lie here as long as you want, but if you want to eat, you’ll have to get up and take a shower too."

"I know, I’ll get up..."

"I’ll take care of the rest in the meantime, but first..."

I look at her curiously as she shows me something between her fingers. I’m surprised to see my ring, which I had put away in the bedside table. I didn’t even notice her taking it. She holds out her open hand, and without her having to say anything, I place my right hand on it. I watch her closely as she slides it onto my ring finger, where it always was before I took it off. Once it’s on, she brings my hand to her lips to kiss the ring, making me blush.

"Please don’t take it off again."

"I-I’ll try..."

"Come on, get up now," she smiles.

I nod and get up, trying to hide the pain from Lucy. I go to grab a uniform and some underwear before heading to the bathroom. I hurry up when I realize it’s already almost seven o’clock. She pushed our alarm back by thirty minutes, so I can’t complain since it was necessary. I shower and get ready as quickly as possible. Then I slow down when it’s time to examine my face. I’ve regained some color thanks to this restorative night, but it does little to improve the state of my injuries. My black eye has darkened, as have the bruises on my stomach. As for the cut on my lip, it has dried into a scab. I hope it won’t leave a scar.

"Horrible," I mutter.

"It’ll fade."

I jump when I realize Lucy has joined me, leaning against the doorframe with a small smile and her arms crossed. I didn’t expect to see her here. She’s been pretty quiet because, unlike with Alexia in our room, I always close the door here.

"No, it’s really horrible," I insist. "It’s going to take at least a week to heal."

I lean against the sink, not worrying about the bruises on my stomach pressing against it, and examine my eye more closely, which seems to have swollen slightly.

"It could have been worse. Let me put some cream on it."

She doesn’t wait for my response before grabbing the tube and applying it to the black eye. I look at myself in the mirror to examine the rest. At least my lip hasn’t swollen either. She repeats the process on my stomach and finishes by changing the bandage on my eyebrow. I realize how useful it’s been when I see the large bloodstain on the old one.

"There you go," she smiles as she puts everything away. "Shall we eat together?" she offers.

"Am I allowed?"

"Of course, if I say so. Besides, the rush hour is over."

"Okay. I’d like to see my friends though..."

"Knowing them, they’ll wait for you as long as they can."

I smile and nod. That’s definitely their style. Plus, I haven’t seen them since yesterday; they must be worried sick. My God, especially Alexia ! Luckily, I’ll see them in a few minutes.

"I’m afraid of what Wiegman will say," I confess to her.

"You don’t have to worry. You’re not in trouble since you didn’t do anything, and if Korbin has said anything, I’ll defend you."

"As long as she believes us..."

"She will," she says with conviction. "By the way," she begins delicately, "I need to know if she touched you at any other time besides last night. It would be a good way to incriminate her further if things take a turn for the worse."

I look at her for a moment before sighing. She already knows the answer; otherwise, she wouldn’t have asked. It’s not hard for her to understand, given the state I was in.

"She assaulted me in the dorm hallway the night before. That’s why I asked to sleep with you," I murmur.

She nods gently in understanding before placing her hand on my cheek. Surprisingly, she doesn’t press further and simply responds:

"Thank you for being honest. I’ll try to get you the day off. You’re not in any condition to go to class after all this."

"Really?" I say, surprised.

- Really.

- Thank you...

Timidly, I hug her to show my sincerity.

- It’s the least I can do. Now let's go. I’m starving.

I smile and nod. To be honest, so am I. I couldn’t finish my meal because of Korbin, and I’m starting to feel it. We grab our jackets and shoes before heading out.

- Will Ingrid be in the cafeteria?

- No. She’s handling Korbin’s case. They’re probably in a meeting right now.

- Oh...

- Don’t worry. Everything will be fine, I promise.

I don’t understand why Lucy seems so confident. I don’t have time to dwell on it as we arrive at the cafeteria. I regret that everything happened here. Now I have to face the place and all the students who saw me get thoroughly beaten. Lucy must have sensed my discomfort because she supports me by placing her hand on my back. I walk in before I can think too much. Otherwise, I’d be tempted to run the other way.

- Are you okay? she asks me.

- Yeah...

- Let me know if that changes.

I smile softly and nod. I should know by now that nothing can happen to me with her by my side. I take a deep breath before entering the dining hall. Surprisingly, the place is calm. Only a few students are still here, and there’s no sign of last night’s incident. My first instinct is to look toward my table. I smile when I see Alexia already running across the cafeteria to meet me. I catch her in my arms, not without some pain from the impact she probably didn’t gauge. A small cry escapes me, making her immediately step back.

- Oh my God, I’m so sorry! she panics. Are you okay?

I smile as she starts examining me from head to toe, lifting my arms.

- I’m fine, Ale, I chuckle. Just a few bruises, but they’re manageable.

She relaxes and hugs me again, more gently this time. Her reaction doesn’t surprise me. She always seems very worried about me. We’ve grown very close, much to my delight.

- You look like a real zombie, she finally jokes.

- What did I tell you? I say to Lucy. At least she admits it!

- Well, let’s be honest here, Ale adds. And what about you two? Are things better now? she asks hesitantly.

- Yeah... I reply with a small smile, glancing at Lucy. Much better.

Alexia doesn’t have time to ask more as the rest of our friends join us, bombarding me with questions I can’t even make out because they’re all talking at once.

- You can stay with them if you want, Lucy tells me. We’ll meet up later.

- No, I’m eating with you. It’s not like I won’t see them again before tonight. Does that bother you? I ask my friends.

- Nah, of course not, Alba responds.

- Are you coming to class? Alessia asks me.

I shrug and glance at Lucy to help me answer. I guess after the meeting, I’ll go back to class if she doesn’t manage to get Wiegman to give me the day off.

- We’ll see, Lucy replies. By the way, it looks like it’s almost time for you to go.

Now that I see the time, I realize she’s right. My friends don’t argue and say goodbye, telling me we’ll catch up later. It’s funny to see how much influence Lucy has on them. Alexia is the last to stay and hugs me again, whispering that I owe her an explanation. I smile as I watch her leave, then we go get our food. I give Lucy a little nudge.

- What is it?

- Nothing, I reply. I’m just happy to be with you.

- Hmm, she smiles.

We walk through the dining hall to her table. I take Ingrid’s spot since she isn’t here.

- So Ingrid’s defending Korbin?

- She doesn’t have much to defend her with, Lucy admits. But yes, that’s her role. Ingrid talked to Wiegman, and she already told me there’s little chance Korbin will avoid expulsion.

- Oh...

- Now relax. For the thousandth time, you have nothing to worry about.

Lucy doesn’t understand that I’m not worried about Korbin’s punishment, but my own. I might be the victim, but who’s to say Wiegman won’t believe her? It would be just my luck if she punished me and Lucy too.

- Here. I saved some painkillers for you last night.

- Why are you so perfect? I mumble. Everything seems so easy for you.

- I told you yesterday that I’m far from perfect, she smiles, taking a bite of her toast.

- No matter what you think. There’s nothing you can’t do. Not only are you athletic and beautiful, but you can cook, take care of people, and you have such confidence that you scare everyone. Not to mention th—

- I think that’s enough, Ona, she teases.

- What? I could go on for hours listing all your qualities, I pout.

- You become who you want to be, she shrugs.

- If you were so different before, what were you like? I ask, curious.

- Far from who I am today, she teases.

I puff out my cheeks, knowing I won’t learn more today. It’s hard to imagine Lucy being any different from who she is now.

- I thought I was allowed to know more now, I pout.

She looks up from her breakfast and smiles tenderly at me. It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve just spent time together doing something as simple as this. It’s a breath of fresh air. I missed her. A lot. I’m really glad to have her back, even more than before.

- You’ll know more. I just love teasing you.

- You could at least give me a hint.

- Hmm... she pretends to think. No. I might lose my credibility... and my intimidation. Isn’t that what you said yesterday?

I blush, remembering. That’s exactly what I told her. Intimidating and scary. Those were the words that kept coming to my mind when we first met. She was tough on me, even though I understand the reasons now.

- This isn’t funny!

- Yes, it is, she laughs. It’s so easy to tease you.

I stick out my tongue, which seems to amuse her even more.

- Although, I still wonder why you are... I’ve never mistreated you as far as I know.

I shrug and take a bite of my barely-touched pastry. She seems to understand that I’m avoiding the conversation because she entwines her fingers with mine in my free hand. I watch as she starts making small circles on the back of my hand with her thumb.

- I don’t know. Everyone here finds you intimidating after all, you know.

It’s because of my reputation, she chuckles. Although I was tough on you at first, I’m much less so now. I hope you realize that.

- Of course, I laughed. I guess you still intimidate me because deep down, there will always be a part of me that remembers you were once my supervisor... After all, you were the first person who could stand up to me and tell me the hard truths when I needed them.

- I’m far from just that now. You realize that, right? she teased.

- Yeah, sure... But I know you'll still turn into my supervisor whenever I mess up.

- Definitely not, she said, rolling her eyes.

- It's not a complaint. It might be weird, but I actually like it when you put me in my place, I chuckled.

- I see, she laughed. Well, you're lucky I'll still be your supervisor here.

- You were serious?

- Of course. No matter what we are outside of here, you'll still be my student until we finish the year. We're both intelligent adults, after all. At least, I know I am, and I hope you can understand my intentions.

She laughed as I playfully slapped the hand still holding mine captive. I found myself shyly playing with her fingers, surprised at how much I wanted to be more physically affectionate with her. I had forgotten how dating a teacher could have its drawbacks. I couldn't even argue against her point. We needed these boundaries here, not just to fully heal but also to keep our relationship safe.

- Why me? I asked, lifting my head. I mean... I'm just a problem kid after all... You could easily find someone better.

- Please. You’re not going to make me list all the reasons you’re important to me again, are you? she raised an eyebrow.

- Why not...? I don't even know what you see in me.

- Alright, let's talk about it then.

- Really?

- Our relationship has to be based on communication. Neither of us knows what we’re getting into, but if we want this to work, the first thing we need to do is keep being honest with each other.

I nodded, completely agreeing with her. Communication is key, especially for two people like us who have our doubts. We made the mistake once, and I doubt it will happen again.

- Alright, she sighed. To be honest, it was really hard for me to bounce back after Kiera. The first thing I told myself was that I’d avoid getting involved with addicts, she laughed.

- Seems like that plan didn’t work out... I replied with a small smile. But you’ve been with other people since her, right...?

- Yes, of course, I’ve tried. But as I told you, it was never serious. I didn’t invest in those relationships, so they only lasted two or three months.

That’s exactly what she told me yesterday. It must be something she’s afraid of too. She started stroking my hand again, her eyes locking onto mine. I squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her. She doesn’t seem to realize how much she means to me. She’s changed my life.

- If I want you, rather than someone else, it’s because I feel good when I’m with you. That’s all that matters to me. It was the same with Kiera, who completely transformed me, but with you, it’s different again. It’s better, and I’ll do everything I can to make it work between us.

Her sincerity touched me. She likes me. Why is it so hard for me to accept that? My self-confidence, of course. I really need to work on that.

- With others, I’d bury myself in my work, but with you, that won’t be possible, she joked.

- True, I chuckled. I believe you, Luce, but it doesn’t change the fact that you could have any woman at your feet.

- You’re exaggerating, she laughed.

- No, I’m serious. You probably don’t even realize it.

- Good thing I only want you then.

I bit my lip at her words, spoken so naturally. I’ve never been lucky in life, and yet here she is. It’s overwhelming. I feel like I don’t deserve her after everything I’ve been through. I’m not used to feeling happy. She gently lifted my face with her hands.

- Don’t doubt it, she whispered. You have no idea how hard it was for me to hide my attraction to you. You might be a defiant kid, but I love that about you just as much as you love my responsible side. I never saw you as incapable. You’re a person with strengths and weaknesses, just like everyone else.

I absorbed her words like a breath of fresh air. Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes, but she quickly wiped them away.

- Thank you...

- I’m sorry again for how I reacted.

- It’s okay, Luce...

- No, she shook her head. You have no idea how much I regret it. It’s always been us against the world from the start.

- I’m the one who’s always run away, Lucy. So I’m not going to hold it against you for doing it once. Now, stop with the sweet talk, or I might have to kiss you.

- Alright, I get it, she laughed. But stop doubting my feelings. They’re real and mutual.

- I’ll try, I teased.

- I would never mess with you. We both have our pasts, but I believe we can overcome them together.

I nodded, fully agreeing with her. We help each other get better. Everything between us has always been spontaneous. We’ve built trust, and it’s like I’m invincible with her by my side. She smiled softly at me.

- Let’s take things as they come. Everything will fall into place naturally, like it always has. Don’t you think?

- Yes, you’re right.

- Good. Now, finish your breakfast so we can go. I don’t want to be late for my boss.

- Whatever you want, Commander.

- Stop with that nickname, she muttered.

- I’ll try, she laughed.

We finished our breakfast after that conversation. I took my time, as if it would delay the inevitable meeting. Once we were done, we cleared our trays and headed toward the administration office. That anxious knot in my stomach was coming back, but I tried to push it down as best I could.

- I can feel your stress from a mile away, she said.

- I’m scared.

Lucy sighed and stopped, prompting me to do the same. She opened her arms.

- Come here.

I looked around to make sure no one was around before I stepped into her embrace. She held me tightly and kissed my forehead.

- I won’t let anything happen to you.

I wish I could believe her, but anything can happen. I’ve always lived in fear, after all. She pulled back and offered me a reassuring smile.

- I’d love to stay like this, but we have to go. Trust me, okay?

I took a deep breath and nodded. She hugged me one last time before guiding me toward the administration office. I noticed by the hallway clock that we still had some time, but Lucy is a stickler for punctuality. I’ve gotten enough punishments from her to know that. We walked through the administration hallway like it was a death row corridor. I hate that feeling. I distracted myself by looking into the offices around us, but some of the doors were closed.

- I’m just going to say hi to the colleagues. Go sit by Wiegman’s office.

I would have preferred if she stayed with me, but I didn’t say anything. I just kept walking without her. I slowed down, though, when I recognized the person already waiting in front of the door. It felt like my vision was playing tricks on me, but I quickly realized it wasn’t when she stood up from her chair as soon as she saw me.

- "Oh my God, Ona!"

- "M-mom?"

I step back in shock. What is she doing here?! Her eyes show concern, and for once, it really feels like she’s worried about me. Since our last argument, the tension had eased slightly. The distance from school must have made her think. The last time we spoke was to change my phone plan, and the conversation went surprisingly well. Lucy's chuckle snaps me out of my trance just before she bumps into me.

- "Sorry," she says, grabbing onto my shoulders. "I thought you were sitting down."

She frowns when she sees the look on my face, then glances up to see what's causing my reaction. Her hands tighten on my shoulders, as if she already knows who we're dealing with.

- "Hello," she says uncertainly.

- "Hello," my mother replies in the same tone.

Lucy steps forward to shake her hand. If someone had told me I’d see this scene one day, I wouldn’t have believed it. I don’t even know what to think.

- "What are you doing here?" I ask. "I thought this was just a routine meeting!" I then turn to Lucy.

- "They called to tell me that you were involved in a fight and that I should come as soon as possible if I could," my mother explains.

- "Did you know about this?" I ask Lucy.

- "No! It must be part of the protocol... Excuse me, Mrs. Batlle, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Lucy Bronze, Ona’s supervisor."

- "So, we finally meet. Sarina has mentioned you quite a bit. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. I’m Abby. »

- "Oh, I see," Lucy says, a bit awkwardly. "It’s a pleasure to meet you."

Watching Lucy getting along with my mother is something I never expected. Well, not entirely unexpected. Lucy was the first to tell me that I should make peace with her if it was still possible. I sigh as my mother starts chatting away with Lucy. She looks super uncomfortable, probably unsure how to navigate between us. It’s kind of cute.

- "Mom, stop bothering her."

- "Oh, you’re not bothering me at all," Lucy quickly replies.

- "No, Ona’s right," my mother laughs. "Once I start, I can’t stop. Let me take a look at you, Ona. You’re in quite a state."

- "I’m fine," I say, stepping back as she approaches. "Bronze took care of me."

It feels weird calling her by her last name, but I don’t really have a choice here.

- "I’d still like to check, even though I don’t doubt she did a good job."

I sigh and let her grab my cheeks.

- "Gently, please," I groan.

Her eyes scan my face while mine are fixed on Lucy, who’s teasing me. She’s watching the scene unfold with amusement. There’s nothing funny about this, and I’ll make sure she knows it later.

- "Did you take a painkiller?"

- "Yes, Mom," I roll my eyes.

- "Thank you for taking such good care of her," my mom says.

- "I was happy to do it, though we’d have preferred to avoid all this," Lucy replies.

- "Of course... Was there a reason behind all this?"

- "In a way. We’ll discuss it in the office if you’d like."

My mom nods and finally lets me go. We then sit down, with me in the middle again. It’s a strange situation. I glance at Lucy, who smiles at me in an odd way before looking away. No one dares to speak. It’ll be our turn soon. I’m not sure how the meeting will go, but if my mom is here, it’s probably not a good sign. And even if it goes well, we’ll probably end up arguing.

- "Who were you talking to earlier?" I ask Lucy to distract myself.

- "I just made the rounds to say hello."

- "Hmm..."

- "What?" she smiles.

- "Nothing... I just wish you’d stayed with me."

- "Oh," she smiles. "Sorry, but they’re still my colleagues, I had to greet them. You can come with me next time."

The idea of communication appeals to me. I shouldn’t be afraid to tell her things. Well, it depends on the topic, of course. I glance at my mom, who’s watching us curiously before smiling at me. She’s also acting strange today. She’s never been this kind to me before. I awkwardly return the smile before lowering my head. It’s hard to believe she flew six hours to see me. She must have flown overnight to be here this early. I wonder how she managed to get time off. She usually barely has any free days with her job. I sigh and shake my head. Maybe things are finally changing.

- "Do you think we’ll have to wait much longer?"

Just as I ask Lucy this question, the office door we’ve been waiting at finally opens. All three of us look up at the door.

- "Apparently not," Lucy murmurs.

A small group files out, led by Ingrid. She steps aside to let Korbin and what I assume are her parents exit. Ingrid takes the opportunity to shake my mother’s hand before her eyes land on me. A smirk spreads across her face.

- "Ouch, you look rough, Batlle," she mocks.

- "Ha ha," I grumble, pulling my scarf up over my nose.

- "Leave her alone," Lucy intervenes with a hint of amusement. "She already feels ugly enough as it is," she adds, making Ingrid laugh.

They exchange a quick handshake while I look at Korbin, who seems to have been staring at me since she walked out. She’s glaring at me. This girl is really insane to keep looking at me like that after beating me up. Lucy was right when she said I didn’t touch her. She doesn’t have a single scratch. My view is interrupted by a hand waving in front of me. I look up at Lucy and realize I’m the only one still sitting. I quickly stand up and watch as Wiegman says goodbye to Korbin’s parents. She asks Ingrid to escort them out and handle the rest of the process. Then she turns to us.

- "Abby! It’s been so long."

If I wasn’t sure these two knew each other, I am now. My principal is hugging my mother. I think this scene is even more unsettling than her meeting Lucy. I still don’t understand why I hadn’t heard of het before. She steps back from her to shake our hands respectfully, one by one. She invites us into her office, which we enter. I find myself sitting in the middle chair again. It feels like I’m on trial with the way I’m surrounded.

- "Alright," Wiegman begins. "I don’t think I need to explain why we’re here..."

- "No, indeed. You just have to look at me... Ouch!"

I frown at Lucy, who just kicked me. She gives me a stern look, clearly sending a message. I quickly get it and stay quiet, sinking into my chair with my arms crossed. Wiegman clears her throat before continuing.

- "Miss Bronze had already informed me that you’ve been getting bullied for a while. So it’s partly our fault for not taking action sooner."

- "I didn’t expect it would lead to a fight," I shrug.

- "Korbin crossed the line in several ways. The fact that she made homophobic remarks should have been a warning sign for us."

- "Homophobic remarks?" my mother repeats, raising an eyebrow.

Damn. I didn’t expect her to say that in front of my mom. I look over at Lucy for support. My mom doesn’t know about that part of my life yet, and I definitely didn’t want her to find out like this.

- "Mr. Thomson, Ona's teacher came to inform me about these matters," Lucy intervenes. "These remarks were based on rumors that had been circulating. Korbin just used them to morally attack your daughter."

I let out a small sigh. My girlfriend is perfect, there’s no other word to describe her. She just saved the situation with a single sentence.

- "These are things you should have talked about, Ona," says Wiegman.

- "I’ve never been the type of person to openly discuss my problems," I retorted.

- "That’s not a solution," my mother says. "You can see where it’s gotten you."

- "Oh, don’t start. I’m willing to let things improve between us, but until recently, you didn’t even believe what I was telling you. It’s no wonder I didn’t confide in you!"

- "Ona..." Lucy warns me.

- "I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. You’re the only one I feel I can confide in because you earned my trust," I say to Lucy. "It’s going to take time for things to improve with you, Mom. It won’t happen overnight."

- "You know I want to make up for things, but for that to happen, you need to give me a chance to do so," she replies.

- "How do you expect me to do that after everything you’ve done to me? You’re closer to Mapi than you are to me!" I accuse her.

- "You’re the one who always put up barriers between us! I accept my mistakes, but it’s your turn to accept yours! It’s too easy to blame everything on me!"

- "Yeah, well, start by apologizing then! My whole life is your fault! It’s because of you that I started acting like a rebellious child and kept making mistakes! It’s also your fault that our relationship consists only of confrontations! You never understood me, let alone listened to me! How can a mother be like that with her child?! It seems like you still don’t realize how much your actions have affected me!"

- "Ona-"

- "Don’t touch me!"

I violently pull away from her grip. I calm down when I realize it wasn’t my mother, but Lucy who had tried to touch me. I hadn’t recognized her voice because I was so consumed by anger.

- "I-I need to go out. Excuse me."

I don’t wait for their permission before pushing my chair away and leaving. I need to get some air to clear my head. My vision is blurred by the tears that have formed. I hear Lucy calling after me, but I don’t stop. It was certain that something would go wrong with my mother being here. We’ll never get along. I lock myself in the restroom, but I don’t even make it to a stall before Lucy catches up with me.

- "Don’t lock yourself away," she sighs.

She pulls me into her arms again. I struggle at first, but then I realize it’s pointless and give in, letting myself lean against her as my tears flow freely. It’s hard to catch my breath because of my anger, but she calms me down by holding me tighter.

- "Shh. It’s okay, it’s over."

- "I-I’m sorry."

- "Don’t apologize. You have every right to be angry."

I try to regain my breath. She brushes a few strands of hair away from my face before kissing my forehead. Her fingers gently wipe away my tears.

- "You’d better not say that-"

- "I won’t say anything," she interrupts me. "You handle the situation with your mother in your own way, and I’ll support whatever decisions you make. Just know that she’s trying to make things right... awkwardly, sure... but she’s trying."

She gently rocks me until I’ve fully calmed down. I expected her to lecture me, but it seems I was wrong.

- "We should go back... I told them I’d bring you back."

- "Two minutes," I mutter.

She doesn’t say anything and gives me the time I need. I slowly pull away to grab a tissue and blow my nose.

- "If you’re feeling overwhelmed, just look at me, and I’ll step in. Okay? There’s no need to get this worked up."

- "Okay... Thanks for earlier, by the way. You really saved me."

- "I told you I’d protect you."

We share a smile before heading back. We sit back in our places, and I make sure to keep my eyes on the floor. The tension in the room is palpable.

- "Alright, let’s continue," Wiegman says. "Korbin mentioned a relationship between the two of you."

I freeze at her words. I knew she would bring it up. Does she believe her? I hope not. I glance at Lucy, who doesn’t seem stressed at all, or she’s hiding it very well.

- "That’s not the case," I reply. "We have a special bond, but not in that way."

- "I know. I don’t believe it at all, but I wanted to let you know. Korbin found out that you two are sharing the same room. She thought I wasn’t aware of it and that it could be used as grounds to get you both expelled."

- "We were discreet though," I murmured.

- "I know, but it just shows she must have been following you everywhere. As I said, I didn’t take her argument into consideration because I’m the one who approved the room change, and in any case, I know that you’re far too professional to break that rule, Miss Bronze."

A wave of relief washes over me that I try my best to hide. I would have felt terrible if Lucy had been punished because of me. I hope this remark doesn’t make Lucy doubt our relationship going forward. I don’t really want to end things just as we’re starting.

- "I also wanted to inform you that Miss Bronze will remain your supervisor until the end of the year since trouble seems to follow you. We think it’s the best course of action, along with your mother."

If only she knew that I’m actually glad about that. It means Lucy will be the only one to take care of me. I play along and just nod in understanding.

- "Are we done?" I ask bluntly.

- "Yes," she chuckles. "You’ll be able to leave soon. Just know that you’ll be under constant supervision from now on. You may not be responsible for what happened to you, but the next incident involving you could be severely punished if you don’t speak up beforehand."

- "Fine," I mumbled. "I’ll discuss it. Am I allowed to go out this weekend?"

- "I don’t see why not, for now."

I thank her with a sigh of relief. I’m getting tired of seeing the walls of this camp for the past two weeks. I wouldn’t have been able to stand staying another week. She stands up to indicate that the meeting is over.

- "Can she have the rest of the day off?" Lucy asks finally. "She needs to rest."

I had forgotten about that detail. Wiegman looks at me for a moment, as if judging whether I deserve it or not.

- "I’ll give her the day off, and you as well for taking care of her last night. I’ll also grant you tomorrow off so you can recover. You’ll spend that time in Bronze and Engen’s office. Make good use of it... like catching up on your studies, for example, since it seems your new course isn’t your strong suit."

I’m surprised by her decision. This means I won’t have classes for the rest of the week. It’s surprising coming from het, considering she hates when her students skip classes.

- "Thank you..."

- "I hope I won’t see you back here anytime soon."

I smile and shake the hand she offers. I wait for Lucy to do the same before leaving that dreadful office. I was ready to go, but Lucy stops me. We watch as my mother and Wiegman chat like old friends.

- "At least say goodbye before you disappear for good," Lucy tells me.

I sigh but nod. After all, she did come all this way for me, so the least I can do is say goodbye. She eventually joins us, closing the office door behind her.

- "I’d like to invite both of you to lunch if you’d like. Sarina has given her approval, of course. I’d really like to get to know the person who has transformed my daughter."

I didn’t expect this offer. I look to Lucy to indirectly gauge her response. She smiles at me before nodding.

- "I’d be happy to, Mrs. Batlle," she replies.

- "How about we drop the formalities? And call me Abby, I’ve told you that already."

- "Alright... I’ll try. But we should probably change before we go. I doubt a uniform will make a good impression outside," she chuckles.

- "Oh yes, of course."

- "Wait for us in the parking lot, we’ll be right there," I tell her.

- "Oh... It’s just that I don’t have a car, I came by taxi."

- "I’ll be driving," Lucy chuckles. "My car is over there. It’s better if you wait for us at the entrance. It’ll be easier for you."

- "You don’t mind driving?"

- "Not at all. I know the city, so it’ll be more convenient."

- "That’s true. Well, I’ll wait for you at the entrance then."

- "We’ll be there in a moment."

She agrees, saying we can take our time. We go our separate ways. I wait until we’re far enough away before talking to Lucy.

- "I can’t believe she suggested such a thing."

- "See? She just wants to make an effort."

- "I hope it goes well..."

- "There’s no reason for it to go badly if you stay calm."

- "Hmm... But it’s only nine o’clock..." I sigh. "We’ll have to keep ourselves busy until lunch."

- "That’s not so bad. It’ll be a chance to reconnect."

- "Great..."

- "You’re not the one who should be complaining. I’m going to spend the day with my mother-in-law, who doesn’t know I exist. I wouldn’t want to see her face the day she finds out I’m your girlfriend."

I chuckle, imagining the shocked expression my mother will probably have when she eventually finds out. I really should tell her that I’m bi someday. It’s about time. I’m an adult now, so she won’t have much to say about it. Besides, there’s a good chance I’ll move out after school if my relationship with Lucy continues. My life and my loved ones are here now.

- "We’ll see... In the meantime, let’s face this day. It’s going to be very... amusing," I say sarcastically.

Lucy chuckles, ruffling my hair. She doesn’t realize how much I’m dreading this day. To think I was supposed to be resting... I have a feeling it’ll be quite the opposite. Only time will tell in what way.

[detectivestucks]

Akatsuki Concubine V

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Itachi x F!Reader x Sasuke

Summary: You rinse off after passing out from your breakfast adventures with Tobi. On your way back from the bathroom the Uchiha brothers spot you, anxious to finish what they started last night.

Warnings: NSFW, Bondage, DubCon, slight degradation, unprotected penetration, facial, choking, biting, oral female receiving

Word Count: 2.5k

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4

You wake up in Tobi’s room confused and alone. You notice that your body has been wiped off and your hair tied up. You pull off the covers to walk towards the bathroom, still sporting Tobi’s baggy tee and use the toilet. You feel excess deposit slip out of your slit as you do so and take a mental note to ask for some cranberry juice given how active you new role is. After washing up you walk back down the hall to your room where you bump into Itachi. 

“Hello little one” he says in a caging stance. 

You suddenly realize the way he stands blocks you off from the rest of the hallway. 

“Good morning sir” you greet with downcast eyes, trying to avoid conversation. 

“It’s afternoon, sweet girl. Did you just wake up?”

“Well I- um”

“I guess we did keep you up late last night, didn’t we?” He says as he grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles. A twisting sensation in your stomach tells you that this conversation needs to end immediately and you need to return to your master’s side. 

“It’s okay. It’s my job, sir. Now if you’ll excuse-“

“Yes, true. But you didn’t finish your job because there was some - interference. So technically we will need to remedy that.” 

Itachi steps closer to you. So close that you shared the same breath as he informed you of your debt to him. His eyes, similar to Tobi’s, blinked and reopened to reveal blood-red orbs. Terror winds through you. He was perfectly kind but something about how he presented the situation spooked you. 

“I see” you say hesitantly. 

“Itachi, let’s go!” You hear an impatient voice shout from down the hall. You twist your head, turning to see the source, when the younger Uchiha perked up upon seeing your face. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t our little Uchiha slut.”

A dry swallow signals your discomfort and he doesn’t miss it. 

“What? Not interested in serving us?”

“No, sir. Tobi has already told you that I am for his personal use. I don’t want to defy the master.”

“You can’t honestly say that you don’t want more. Or are you more afraid of him than us?”

You step backwards in retreat, but bump into itachi’s chest. Whirling around you see there is no escape past the two brothers. They close in on you, backing you against the wall. 

“Please gentlemen, I don’t want to get caught defying the master.” you plead

“We won’t get caught then” the younger one says as his mouth lunges for your’s. His lips lock you in a sealed kiss where his tongue explores the cavern of your mouth. His hands pull up the hem of Tobi’s shirt in search of your nipples only to pinch them and roll them between his fingers. A small moan of satisfaction slipped out in response and that was all the validation the brothers needed to keep going. 

You tried to pull back, to unlock your lips, to tell him no, but you are already shoved against the wall and your head had nowhere to go. 

“My turn, little brother”

Sasuke released your lips with a gaze drunk on desire before you felt Itachi’s strong fingers grip your jaw and turn your head to the side so he could get a taste. 

“Please, no-” but your plea was lost as he bit your lip and ravaged your mouth. 

Once Sasuke gave away your lips, his hands release your tender nubs and run down your stomach. He sinks to his knees and slides two fingers into your exposed center.

You clench around the digits, lifting your foot in protest but Sasuke sees it all as a reason to wrap his lips around your clit and suck on it till the pressure pulls the nub from your body. 

You squeal as Itachi kisses you, keeping you pinned against the wall. One hand gripping your face firmly, the other clenching around your tit. You try to close your legs and cut off Sasuke’s access but he firmly swats at your center just as Itachi slaps your breast. 

“Open up, whore.”

You nod and allow them to keep using you, hoping that Tobi would never know of this. That after this time it would be over and you would belong to him and only him. 

Sasuke continues to stroke two fingers inside you, enjoying the steady increase in arousal that forms around them. His mouth mimics your entrance and begins to drool. 

“Can’t wait anymore. Need a taste.” He mutters to himself as he leans in with an outstretched tongue.  It snakes in the hole his fingers occupy so he can lick the arousal puddling there. He then hooks his muscle on the top of your entrance before swiping up to your clit. His lips close around the nub and his pointed tongue lifts the hood of your clit to reveal the sensitive ball of nerves exposed and ready to be toyed with. 

You twist and moan but between sasuke’s grip on your legs and itachi’s grip on your face, you were helpless to escape. 

The men were beautiful. More gorgeous than any man who entered the pleasure house but they weren’t your Tobi. 

Itachi’s hand plays with the fat of your breast, enjoying how it squishes in his palm. “So beautiful and well behaved. Come to my room.”

You shake your head in resistance. Not wanting to put yourself in an even more compromising situation by heading off into a secluded room but one look into his eyes and you suddenly realize you’re already there. When did that happen? 

“I’ll let my brother have you first. He seems more excited.”

“Wait!”

But it was for not. You are shoved down on your stomach and you feel spit drop between your cheeks before a swollen head prods at your heat before slipping in. 

He wasn’t gentle. Not a bit. He thrust into you as if you were a toy, knocking the wind out of you. You try to crawl away but he grabs you by the hips and pistons in. 

He takes you from behind, pushing your waist down with his body weight with both hands as you slowly submit. You melt into the mattress with each pump. He reaches so deep and strokes along a spot that only Tobi had found, making you moan against your will. You couldn’t believe yourself and immediately shoved your face into the mattress out of sheer embarrassment. 

This isn’t right. You know your job is to pleasure men. That’s been the only occupation you’ve ever known. Your body has not belonged to you for years but you hate that these two think they’re above Tobi’s orders and you hate that your body is turned on , even a little, at this moment.

Your legs slowly spread apart as he pushes down into you. Your stomach kissing the bed with how arched he forced your back to be. Your face buries into the blanket, your hands clawing at the cloth, trying to brace yourself from how he pumps into you. He grunts in approval, your walls squeezing around him, pulling him into you while he smashes you down. 

After you’ve been fully flattened into a pancake, he spanks your cheeks, turning them red like his eyes. Once they reach the right shade, he grabs two fistfuls and slows his pace, mesmerized by how he disappears inside of you.

“Flip” he orders plainly.

You scramble back up to your knees and roll over to your back, facing him and finding it hard to look him in the eye. He grabs your legs, manhandling them and pinning them above your shoulders. You felt your flexibility tested as he shifts his weight to his hands, further pressing your knees into the skin just above your chest. 

His hips roll in and out of you fluidly, the fine tuned movements of a skilled ninja stroking exactly where you like it most. You watch where your bodies connect, imagining it was the oldest of the Uchiha men. You bite your lip, almost letting his name slip off your tongue. 

Sasuke’s hand releases the back of your leg and grasps your jaw. “Look at me.”

You let your lip slip through your teeth as your eyes gaze into his. He, like his clan, had eyes that turned red from the excitement, with a black pupil and three tomoe. You focus on his eyes, they are like Tobi’s. His skin is far too smooth and young to be him, but if you focus on his eyes, just focus… Suddenly you flutter around his member.

“That’s a good little slut. Cum around my dick.” 

He thrusts with mounting enthusiasm, banging into your hips for what feels like an eternity when suddenly he pulls out, pumping his fist till hot ropes spring out and coat your face. He collapses forward, panting above you. You look down, blinking away the drying cum and then gaze back up at him. His lips part into a smug smile as he lifts his right hand, dips his finger in his seed and spreads it over your lips, glossing them before standing up and closing his pants. 

Relieved it’s over you begin to sit up. However, a gentle hand pushes your shoulder back down. “Now me.”

The older brother rounds the bed and pushes your knees apart. “This time I want something more than just that cute mouth of yours.”

He stands before you, grasps the bottom of his shaft and slaps his head against your clit. You flinch from overstimulation, juices seeping out of your center. Itachi rubs his length along your lips, spreading fluid over the entirety of your sex. 

You moan, the action reminding you of who your body actually belongs to but when you look up, instead of your scar-faced dom, you see the flowing locks of his talented clan member. 

Itachi lines himself up and sinks his mushroom head into your entrance. The sexiest of groans reverberating from his throat as he pushes in further. 

He bottoms out and holds still, letting you feel the stretch. His hand traces up your stomach to your peaks and his fingers lightly trap one of your nipples between his finger pads, pulling it up. You squeeze, eyes shut, teeth grit, and walls clench around him. Yet, the pleased growl coming from this hunky man had your eyes reopen. There is a kindness behind the hunger and it sucks you in, allowing you to fall into his trap. 

His grip adjusted from your perky nubs to grabbing the entirety of each of your tits. He held them in his hands, squeezing them, feeling how they gave way to his grip. His hips mindlessly begin stroking as his focus lingers on your chest. 

His thumb brushes your peak, stiffening it more before he leans forward to trap it between his lips. You felt suction pull your skin further into his mouth at the same time that the power of his hips begin to rock you up and down on the mattress. 

You quietly moaned, the perfect amount of pressure making you tingle until Itachi switched things up and began to use his teeth, biting down on your tit and causing you to cry out. His pace between your legs picks up as the same time. It is almost as if some type of switch has been flipped. Your sounds become louder, volume increasing when a hand slaps down over your mouth and a deep voice scolds you. 

“Quiet whore, or else we’ll gag you.”

With teary eyes you look up to see Sasuke standing over you, his brother’s teeth still biting down on your flesh. He was going to leave a mark and Tobi would know that you were used by someone else; not by him. You struggle, trying to make it stop but Sasuke was quick with restraints. 

Your wrists are tied together over your head and your ankles are tied to your thighs, keeping your knees bent and leaving you unable to crawl away. You continue to struggle but Itachi is completely oblivious to it all. He’s consumed with lust, his entire focus still on your chest, nibbling and marking your breasts as if they belonged to him. 

Tired of listening to your yelping, Sasuke brings another piece of rope to your neck and connects it to the ties holding your wrists together. Your elbows are above your head, arms bent backwards and wrist tied behind your head, with each struggle to escape you choke yourself. 

“Make any more noise and this is going in your mouth.” he said, palming the bulge in his pants. Your eyes widen in understanding, your entire body shifting up and down from the pounding against your core. Restrained and vulnerable, you are completely at their mercy. The two brothers seemed to love being in control. Their eyes bright with lust, their gaze burning into you. Once more you try to focus on the eyes, so similar to Tobi’s. Forgive me Tobi.

Itachi’s teeth explore the expanse of your skin, nipping up to your collarbone but unable to sink into your neck from the rope blocking his access. You are certain that bruises and marks will be left on your skin as souvenirs once this is all over and the Akatsuki’s fearsome leader would be livid. Your mind races, thinking about the other girls and what they must be experiencing. Was this their reality too? Tied down and taken like nothing more than the whore the bandits purchased. 

The pressure of the rope choking your neck grew itchy and uncomfortable. Your face grew crimson from the blood caught by the fibers that dig into your skin. 

However, Itachi’s grunts and sounds of pleasure increase, his pace becoming more punctuated. His beating deep, thrusting all the way to the hilt with every entry. Your toes curl and your hips tilt, angling yourself to increase your pleasure. “Yes” he breathes, finally lifting his face, “right-there.” 

Just as you begin to shake from the way his tip pets your insides, he too pulls out to shove his seed all over your tits. Opulent liquid slides down the slope of your curves and onto the bed, leaving behind a sticky trail that matches the drying liquid on your face. 

Just like his brother, Itachi tucks himself away, closing his pants. “Your debt is paid.” he says softly before turning to walk out the door. Sasuke follows him, but not without first slapping your sex. You squirm from the impact but are stuck on your back. The assholes leave without untying you, perhaps because they find the idea kinky but not you; you are panic-stricken. For starters you can barely breathe, secondly, the door is open and anyone could find you, third, what if Tobi is the someone who finds you like this? 

Your fingers frantically feel for a knot or some kind of weakness in your bindings. You can’t see what you’re doing and you let out a squeal of frustration when you come up short. There is no way to free yourself. You have no idea how to get out of this mess. 

Just as you wiggle and pout at your own poor luck, a tall, hulking, blue man with small shark-like eyes comes walking by with one of your concubine sisters on a leash. He spots you struggling on the bed and stops in the doorway of Itachi’s bedroom, “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

Fuck.

Masterlist

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4

[withered--s0uls]

OKAY, I think I'm done for now.

@electrozeistyking and I a little while ago talked about how GD!N would react to DAS!Cyn. They went on about in a reblog but basically he would be extremely happy bc DAS!Cyn is a separate entity to the Absolute Solver, therefore meaning she's not the one behind everything.

So at first they probably both would be extremely happy. DAS!Cyn in her own AU upon meeting N first is absolutely terrified that he might hate her after everything the AS made her do. So the fact GD!N would react very positively to her presence would be a huge a relief to her.

Now, the issue is that the "Dormant" in "Dormant" Absolute Solver is in quotations for a reason. It simply lost interest in her as a main host / had no need for her anymore. It still has admin rights over DAS!Cyn and she still has a Solver Form. Though she doesn't use it by choice bc of PTSD triggers (until possibly a specific point in Ep7 but I'm waiting for ep8 to decide).

So yeah I think that would make both GD!N and DAS!Cyn kinda anxious to put it lightly.

(More Art and stuff under cut because this crossover has been living RENT FREE IN MY HEAD)

Also fun fact

@electrozeistyking has mentioned and shown Beanie finding comfort in the sound of her fathers core.

Well funny story.

DAS!Cyn always was comforted by her brothers core back at the manor, when they first reuite at the start of Ep6 and she sees DAS!Uzi summon her Solver wings and tail, her instinct is pressing closer to DAS!Ns chest for comfort. Her memories of the Solver features are very very blurry, but she is triggered by seeing them regardless.

I thought It was cute the girls have that in common, so I decided to draw them and GD!N sleeping with the girls having their heads close to his core :3

OKAY FINALLY WE GET TO THE DOODLE PAGE

I didn't feel like fully making these so they're sketchy doodles :"

The first two are based on Zeisty saying GD!N would probably pick DAS!Cyn up and spin her around. Also you probably noticed between this doodle, the first drawing & the Tiny!N & DAS crossover post, but DAS!Cyn displays flowers on her visor to emote happiness!

The 3rd and 4th are just random interactions between the kiddos lol. I feel like Beanie probably would be happy to have another Auntie, not to mention one closer to her age so they can do silly kid stuff together. DAS!Cyn... oh boy

She would feel a whole range of emotions; grief about missing so much of her brothers life (like he has a kid ffs), guilt and self blame after finding out what happened to Uzi (she blames herself for everything the AS caused, even tho she never agreed to it) which might end up in a "slight" breakdown, anger at the AS for causing GD!N that kind of pain and eventually once she processed all those emotions she probably would be excited to get to know Beanie. Like!! Imagine finding out you have a little Niece!!

She probably would struggle to easily keep up with Beanie bc she still has motor issues like in canonverse so she's a little slower, so it'd be mostly her trying not to fall over her own feet whilst being dragged around by an excited toddler who probably even with child lock is stronger than her lmao.

Also I drew DAS!Cyn in an alternate outfit bc I wanted to actually kinda show the oil reserve canister,,,

Ok wanting to respond to the hashtags specifically bc :)) yay

Also ig this is some DAS lore fact drops lol

Yeah, DAS!Cyn kinda didn't take it well either when she first realized the AS technically can still take over if it really wanted to after she transferred bodies in an attempt to escape. Imagine getting your core nearly crushed in an attempt to flee from robo satan just to find out entity STILL can use you for their bidding. Like!!! Damn that's not fair the kid nearly fucking died trying to break free!!!

DAS!Cyn definitely would want to spare Beanie the horrors too. DAS!Cyn herself is mentally like 7-10/11 at best 6-9 at worst -- despite kids usually just saying whatever comes to mind, she repressed most AS related stuff for a reason, she definitely wouldn't share what she knows with her newfound niece

I feel things would be either super great and happy or super traumatizing depending on when in the timeline we throw DAS!Cyn at them. If she's there during ep 6-7? Oh boy. Oh no. DAS!Cyn & DAS!N have an exchange during Ep7 that would not go over so well if it was GD!N in DAS!Ns place, because it would be awfully similar to GD!Uzis death -- she doesn't die, because DAS!N can't get himself to shoot with her being so close to the AS, despite her literally shouting at him to do it and that she won't be angry, that'll be fine. -- yeah I don't think GD!N would handle that well 😭 Zeisty feel free to get the angst train rolling if you wanna add your two cents on how that'd go over -- any point before that? Probably fine. Post S1? I'd imagine also fine depending on what Ep8 throws at us (except like... look at ideas list for more info*)

I'll assume that'd be Beanie reacting to seeing DAS!Cyn having the Solver tail and possibly the glitching Solver symbol in her visor. Yeah she definitely would try to play it off and go try and hide somewhere until she can get it under control again. High stress or negative emotions causes her Solver to act up (unrelated to the AS, just her own Solver form without the entity controlling anything!!) So what I said above to her reaction to the news of GD!Uzi being dead? And possibly finding out the reason why? Yeah that might trigger her tail and wings to pop out and her to basically be reduced to a hyperventilating ball on the floor because of proceeding to blame herself for all of GD!Ns suffering due to thinking the AS actions & it being a danger are her fault

Other things I kinda wanted to doodle but didn't for now, might do at a later point;

Cyn still has a Solver Core, which is the same as a DD core (except smaller lol). So I was playing with the idea of Beanie noticing that her core sounds different from GD!Ns due to hers being severely damaged and actively leaking after the AS attempted to crush it during the body transfer. DAS!Cyn then trying to play it off

Some kind of acknowledgement of the Oil reserve canister on DAS!Cyns back, it was made by Tessa before the AS did the medurder and stuff. It's supposed to help keep the Solver in check by preventing overheating, hence why its directly connected to her chest where her core is

There was something else but it slipped my mind

Smth I'm not gonna say publicly for now until Zeisty posts something about it and/or eventually posts the chapters bc I don't want to spoil esp not bc it isn't my place to :" (if you're curious, Zeisty, lmk I can tell you in VC or DMs lol) but it partly would possibly be related to the 1st idea listed

* I have an idea for what happens to Cyns original body (the one the AS uses & that wears Tessa) post Ep8 IF Ep8 let's me do it that is. I think it could be fun to crossover that idea bc of GD!Ns ghost sight.... tho it definitely also would be fucking stressful and trauma inducing bc Solver stuff sooo yeah rip (again, if you want I could elaborate in vc or DMs on this bc I want to first wait and see what the season finale brings before I do anything "official" with this)

GD!N reacting to the information that DAS!Cyn canonly shot "Tessas" gun at the AS (well technically at its tentacles. Point being that kid fired a gun/knows how to use one) -- which again could be very interesting if we were to toss them into the same Ep7 bc that's when she does it

Possibly GD!N finding out ab the scars/cracks surrounding DAS!Cyns core bc,,, yeah

Anyways uuuhh heightbsheet bc I'm 99% sure I drew stuff inaccurate

These were actually so fun to draw and think & talk about. I'll post the GD x IC crossover once I'm done with that (yes, yes there is more than what you already saw Zeisty. Not much more but more nonetheless)