#but he’s feeling pretty self conscious about it

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Helpy draws Michael the best he can,,

[fear-is-truth]

dae-ho 강대호 / PLAYER 388 as your boyfriend

tags — fem!reader﹒ sfw headcanons﹒established relationship﹒fluff

dae-ho, who knows an embarrassing amount about “girly” stuff—despite the typical “guys don’t know shit about makeup” stereotype. he can identify your products by name—“you left your stippling brush on the sink again,” he had casually mentioned once, leaving you stunned.

dae-ho, who is good at taking care of you when you’re feeling unwell, especially during that time of the month (growing up with four sisters, he has learned everything there is to know about periods.) he’ll make sure you have heat pads, pain relief meds, chocolate, and your favorite snacks stocked up.

dae-ho, who doesn’t care if something is “emasculating” as long as it makes you happy. wearing a tiger face mask or letting you stick glittery clips in his hair? no problem. your joy is worth more to him than any outdated social expectations.

dae-ho, who lets you braid his hair and braids yours in return. he’s surprisingly good at it, thanks to his sisters. fishtail, french braid… he’s got you covered.

dae-ho, who gives you the softest, dopiest smiles when you’re braiding his hair, applying a face mask, or just rambling about your day, he’s looking at you like you hung the moon.

dae-ho, who sometimes forgot to take out your scrunchie from his own hair when he goes outside.

dae-ho, who acts like it’s just regular “good boyfriend duty” by letting you paint his nails. really, he’s just amused by how cute you look, biting your lip in concentration.

dae-ho, who picks up on your mood quickly. if you’re having a rough day, he’ll know it before you even have to say anything. he’s the kind of boyfriend who just gets it, always there to listen, or just holding you in his big arms.

dae-ho, who is incredibly patient. even when you’re snippy or plain unreasonable, he’d never take it personally. his calmness makes you feel safe, no matter what mood you’re in.

dae-ho, who has a protective streak especially when it comes to you. if anyone messes with you, he’ll step in without hesitation, but he’ll do so in a calm manner. never the type to make a scene, but you can always count on him to have your back when you need it.

dae-ho, who acts all wounded when you gang up with his sisters. if you’re laughing at an inside joke with them, he’ll gasp dramatically, hand over his heart. “betrayed by my own girlfriend,” he’ll say, pouting like a kicked puppy. but he secretly loves seeing you bond with them.

dae-ho, who is very respectful of your boundaries, whether they’re physical or emotional. he’s never pushy and always checks in with you to make sure you’re comfortable.

dae-ho, who loves hyping you up— if you ever feel self-conscious, he is always there to remind you how amazing you are. he wants to see you feel good about yourself, and he’ll always be there to support that.

dae-ho, who is adoring and affectionate—he loves physical affection and will never shy away from showing it. he’s also an excellent listener, always asking how your day went and showing genuine interest.

dae-ho, who texts you photos of random things because they remind him of you. a pretty sunset, a stray cat, or a newly opened bakery.

 fear-is-truth 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[meadowfics]

delivery

hwang jun-ho x pregnant!reader

the policeman is excited for his daughter to arrive

warnings: birth

this is a continuation and part two to this

it all starts late at night, just as you’re getting ready to climb into bed.

you’ve showered, slipped into your comfiest satin nightgown, and are looking forward to finally getting some rest.

jun-ho is already under the covers, scrolling through his phone while waiting for you.

just as you move to sit on the bed, you feel an unexpected sensation.

at first, you freeze, wondering if you’ve accidentally peed yourself.

this has happened before, due to your daughter using your bladder as a soccer ball.

the thought of it happening again makes your cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“uh… jun-ho?”

you say hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper.

your partner's head snaps up immediately, his protective instincts kicking in.

“what’s wrong? are you okay?”

he’s already moving to sit up, concern etched into his features.

you glance down at yourself and mumble,

“i think… i think my water just broke.” the words feel strange to say, and you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious.

jun-ho blinks a few times, processing what you’ve just said. then his lips curl into a small, excited smile that he’s clearly trying to suppress.

“really? are you sure?” he asks, but he’s already reaching for the hospital bag that’s been packed for weeks.

you nod, still feeling a little flustered.

“yeah, i’m pretty sure. i mean, i didn’t feel any pain, but—” you trail off, looking at the growing damp spot on your nightgown.

“okay, okay, no need to worry,”

jun-ho says, his voice calm but laced with excitement.

he places a reassuring hand on your lower back, then gently guides you to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“let’s get you changed first, and then we’ll head to the hospital. our girl’s on her way.”

as you change into clean clothes, with the help of jun-ho.. the man hurries around the room, triple-checking the hospital bag, your phone, chargers, snacks, and anything else you might need.

you can tell he’s trying to stay composed, but the way he fumbles with the zipper on the bag gives away his excitement.

once you’re ready, he helps you into the car.

during the drive, you start to feel mild contractions. they’re not too bad yet, but jun-ho keeps glancing at you every few minutes, asking,

“how are you feeling? do you need anything? want me to play some music?”

you laugh softly, despite the growing discomfort.

“i’m fine, jun-ho. just focus on driving. i’d rather not give birth in the car.”

at the hospital, jun-ho is by your side every step of the way. he holds your hand tightly as the nurses check you in, offering comforting words and even cracking a small joke to lighten the mood.

“guess i’ll finally get to see if all those birthing classes paid off.”

as your contractions intensify, jun-ho stays calm and steady, never letting go of your hand. he rubs your back during the worst of it, whispering,

“you’re doing amazing, y/n. she’s so lucky to have you as her mom.”

hours pass, and jun-ho barely leaves your side. even when you’re tired and in pain, he keeps encouraging you, telling you how strong you are and how proud he is of you.

"you're doing so well, sweetheart."

when your contractions start getting stronger, jun-ho immediately shifts into “coach mode,” even though he’s never officially done this before.

he sits beside you, holding your hand tightly, and says,

“okay, y/n, remember to breathe. in through your nose, out through your mouth..just like we practiced.”

during a particularly intense contraction, just when you're seven centimeters dilated.. you grip his hand hard enough to make him wince, but he doesn’t say a word about it.

he's faced worst while being a detective.

instead, he rubs soothing circles on your back with his other hand, murmuring,

“you’re so strong, y/n. you’ve got this. just focus on breathing, one step at a time.”

every time the nurse comes in to check on you, jun-ho listens attentively, nodding as if he’s taking mental notes.

afterward, he turns to you and explains everything in a calm, steady voice, making sure you’re not overwhelmed.

“okay, so it sounds like you’re dilating really well. that means we’re getting closer. just a little more, and we’ll meet her.”

at one point, he notices you’re getting tense and you start clenching your jaw during a contraction.

“hey, relax your shoulders,” he says gently, placing his hands on them and giving them a light squeeze.

“it’ll help with the pain. you’re doing amazing, y/n.”

when you start to doubt yourself.. you start to cry,

“i don’t think i can do this,”

jun-ho immediately shakes his head and cups your face with both hands.

“yes, you can. you’ve already come so far. you’re the strongest person i know, y/n, and you’re not doing this alone. i’m right here with you.”

between contractions, he keeps you distracted by cracking small jokes.

“if she’s as stubborn as you, it’s no wonder she’s taking her time coming out.”

when you glare at him, he grins and adds,

“but stubbornness is a good thing. she’ll be tough, like her mom.”

when it’s time to start pushing, jun-ho positions himself right by your side, holding one of your legs and encouraging you with every push.

“you’re doing it, y/n. just a little more. you’re so close. i’m so proud of you.”

at one point, you grab the collar of his shirt in frustration during a particularly difficult push.. the ring of fire as doctors put it.

instead of panicking, he stays calm and says,

“that’s it, take it out on me. you can yell at me all you want..just keep going. you’re amazing, y/n."

the moment your daughter is born, just after three hours of pushing.. jun-ho’s eyes fill with tears. he looks at her, then at you, and his voice trembles as he says,

“she’s perfect. you did it, y/n.”

when the nurse places your baby girl in your arms, jun-ho leans in close, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both look at her in awe.

“welcome to the world, little one,”

your man whispers, his voice full of love.

even as exhausted as you are, you can see the way jun-ho can’t stop smiling. he keeps glancing between you and your daughter, like he can’t believe how lucky he is to have both of you.

later, as the three of you settle in for some quiet time, jun-ho gently brushes his fingers over your daughter’s tiny hand.

“she’s got your nose,” he says softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

"thank you for being the best."

you mumble, tired from the pushing.

“thank you, y/n. for everything. i love you so much.”

"I love you too."

you watch him as he carefully cradles your daughter, talking to her in a soft, soothing voice about how much he’s been waiting to meet her.

in that moment, you know your little family is already filled with so much love.

masterlist

[zoieru]

thoughts about parts of hsr men's bodies, and how they react to your attention on them (mostly cute, not quite nsfw)

Just sum thots I wanted to get down n share, perchance with some like-minded individualss. I sort of yap when I write, not written in perfect grammar or prose. Maybe spoilers for 3.0. no gender, not nsfw, but suggestions splatted about ♡

Aventurine, Sunday, Phainon, Mydei

Aventurine

His hands, fingers, the whole lot. They're so dextrous and slender and nimble, probably from playfully flicking chips between his fingers as a taunt to those at the table. The way the chips twirl between them effortlessly has you often watching in a momentary trance. You sort of chide yourself internally when your thoughts start to drift at how they move, how *able* they are, and the implications of such...

You know he pays a lot of attention to his appearance, so his nails are always seemingly perfect, softly rounded at the edges, clean. It's to an extent that seems kind of impossible, as you find yourself captivated by them when you play with his fingers as you sit together. They're just...pretty. "You got a thing for hands, or is it just me?" He teases, a little smirk tickling the edge of his lips as his eyes glint with that familiar spark of mischief. He's always playing it off, of course, but he can't deny the little flutter he feels in his chest when you kinda admire him like that. There's something different about the way you do it, makes him feel special and wanted. Which the boy deserves in bounds.

Plus he looooves touching you with them. He's just a sort of handsy person, but in a cheeky-reverent kind of way, especially once he notices your attention on them. He'll fiddle purposefully, that frustrating smirk on his mouth, he'll run his fingers over your skin gently, pinching and squeezing here and there, and trace your bottom lip with his thumb when he's got you a bit flustered.

Sunday

For Sunday my first thought was his head-wings, of course, but that would be boring since everyone talks about the way the lil things flutter and fluff up, so we're going for his hair.

Now, Sunday obviously paid attention to his appearance as the Bronze Melodia, and all of his positions. He had to look the part, after all, and his tendency for control seeped into this aspect of his life too. But I like to think he never really saw his hair as anything but a sort of tool, something on him to be viewed and consumed by other people, just as a lot of his life was. (Thinking about Sunday makes me so sad aaa). He looked after it, liked it, but didn't see the utility or pleasure of it outside of that use much.

But when he fell with broken wings, and ended up in the strangely soft and uncomfy-comfy laps of the astral express crew, and others, like you, he, along with other things, started to realise the pleasure and softness that could come from his hair. For instance, along with his wings, if you touch his hair, he's a goner. He's just so...sensitive, and it sends little shivers down his whole body, to where he's almost made docile and incoherent. His brain short circuits a little and he becomes like when you touch a shark on that part of their body where they just become all floppy.

He doesn't even have the energy to be self conscious about it much when you're lacing your fingers through the grey strands, and if he does he'll blush a bit, cutely, and avert his eyes almost grumpily as he just shifts in your lap so his face doesn't have to meet your gaze. Plus, he finds it's one of the only time his yappy brain quiets a little, the sensations like a soothing silk wrapping around the thoughts and making them a bit less intrusive. Basically he's cute as hell, it hurts my soul.

Phainon

Okay, so, I'm gonna go with the expected here but HEAR ME OUT. His eyes are so expressive, even ignoring how intensely blue they are to the point it feels as though a droplet of the sky had just plopped into their depths one day and decided to take up residence hello Satoru ♡.

They're always moving slightly, narrowing a touch when thinking along with that slight pout of his mouth, widening with a gentle spark when he gets an idea or sees something he finds cool (imagine him like...seeing a stupid meme and showing mydei, and mydei just like -_-). When his face lights up, eyes catching that spark of excitement, it's just so sweet and beautiful. You find yourself desperate to keep seeing that light flicker in his eyes, finding things that make him light up.

Then there's when they soften. Usually when he's looking at you. Or mydei stop. He'll be talking or into something and then turn to look at you half way through, his eyes instantly softening ever so slightly. It's enough to make your heart flutter, just that. It's pathetic really, but that's what this puppy will do to you.

If you ever comment on them he'll chuckle a little, maybe bring his hand to his nape, the classic, looking around like 'really? hehe'. He takes the compliment and thinks about it a bit during the day at intervals, feeling warmer inside.

ALSO WHEN HE TILTS HIS HEAD SUBTLY WHEN CONFUSED LIKE A PUPPY OKAY BYE

Mydei

Mydei is hard because (get your mind out of the gutter) I feel like he would be so enthralled and slightly confused by all of your touch, since he hasn't felt much soft and tender affection in his whole damn life. So let's go with his skin, namely, tracing soft and idle patterns on it, anywhere really.

I'm picturing it starting with like...you just idly drawing circles or swirls on his arm or hand while you're relaxing, maybe before sleeping, just at some point. It didn't even really cross your mind that you were doing it, it was just natural. But this man had his eyes locked onto your fingers as they moved, eyeing the movements and taking note of the sensations almost with suspicion, like -what the hell is this and why do I like it-. Basically bro is shook, it's cute.

You'll catch him staring and be like ?? And he'll get a touch embarrassed, try to play it off a bit, grunt and look away a little, but after a bit he'll admit it feels kinda nice and you couldddd do it more if you wanted to. He wouldn't mind. Yknow. And he'll end up enjoying it a lot, anywhere you do it, letting you trace his skin more purposefully, the muscles rippling underneath it, his tattoos. He finds his muscles relax under your touch as if you're weaving some of Aglaea's golden thread over them, soothing them more than he's really felt before. And he'll give you a bit of a grumpy cat face when you stop, like...excuse me what? Keep going???

Anyway kinda thinking about doing more now but like, their reactions to each of these things individually, like playing with their hair or hands. Brainrot. Anyway make sure u ate something today or I'll haunt your dreams bye.

[tgmsunmontue]

A picture is worth 1000 words - 5/?

Hangster post-TGM events, Jake and Bradley becoming friends on Instagram through increasingly competitive thirst traps.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR

              He opens up Instagram again and goes back and finds Hangman’s profile. Sees if he can figure out what, if anything, he means by proof of life.

              Oh.

              Huh.

              That’s a picture that would have caught his eye in the app he uses to hook up. It wouldn’t be out of place. Jesus he wants to tug the pants down to see more. He guesses that’s kind of the point.

              How the hell does someone respond to that kind of picture and be normal about it?

              He reads through the comments. Okay. Natasha is being herself. That seems normal. Fanboy feeling lazy. Yeah, Bradley can relate. And well… it just seems like the usual shit they give each other when they’re together. Except his interactions with Hangman in the past have always tipped over into something a bit too cruel. It’s changed since the mission, but not that much. He’s definitely not sharing his fucking inner thoughts where all his friends and colleagues can read them, that’s for sure.

              Proof of life though…

              Does Hangman want him to post pictures of himself?

              He doesn’t look like Hangman, especially not after Penny and Mav have been insisting he needs to eat. Plus his training regime has taken a little bit of a hit since his leave started. Plus Natasha had a point, his phone is old. Nearly six years and even Amelia has started giving him shit about it. It’s not like he doesn’t have time to go and buy a new one and figure out how to use it though.

              He just… he’s a little self-conscious. He knows he looks alright. Good even. And thanks to fucking Natasha and her stealth photography there’s plenty of evidence in his Instagram profile of how he can look. But also he’s not really used to taking pictures of himself and posting them.

              Then again… clearly Hangman is getting help from someone to take pictures. Whoever FarmboyForever is. Or maybe KCSeresin who is clearly family. He’s never asked Hangman about his family before, mainly because he didn’t want him asking about Bradley’s in return. It would have given the other man far too much ammunition. Now though… Well. He’s pretty sure the worst is behind them. He hopes.

              He wonders what Amelia is up to, whether she wants to help him pick out a new phone. Maybe help him figure out how to use it.

              He sure as hell isn’t asking Natasha.

SIX

[lexirosewrites]

Hiii I don’t usually go here, but I have had a few Disjointed Thoughts(™) for like WEEKS and I finally decided to share on this, the most holy (hole-y, hah) of days, Slick Sunday.

SO. O!Steve, A!Eddie, shocking. Steve is excruciatingly aware that, physically? He’s not really the Ideal Omega, at least by societal standards. Or his parents’ standards. Or his own, if he lets himself think about it too much, but that’s why he simply Does Not Think About It. Emotionally, he’s pretty solid. He absolutely loves his forcibly-adopted, feral, teenage pups. He’s excited to have his own one day, and to have an Alpha who loves him and their pups. He is always taking care of somebody, particularly the people he cares about, and most of the time it’s not even a conscious choice.

Physically, though?

Physically, he’s taller than an omega usually is. He spent so much time doing sports before he presented, and then after to keep up the image. Plus, let's be honest, he's absolutely keeping himself in shape and strong enough to defend/protect his little chosen pack. No matter how he or other people might feel about it, nothing is as important as keeping everyone safe, even after the UD is taken care of.

He and Eddie have been getting close, though. Eddie made enough anti-secondary-gender-roles speeches in school that Steve's pretty sure he won't mind that Steve is more invested in keeping them all safe than playing the part of “good little omega.” He was certainly impressed when Steve had to bite a bat in the Upside Down, and that's not very Omegan. The problem is, Eddie is such a perfect Alpha. Robin always makes a face when he says it, but Steve can feel it in his soul. Eddie is loud, exuberant, fiercely loyal, and protective of anyone who might need it, particularly when he cares about them. He's good with his hands, between his guitars and tinkering with his van when it has a new issue every month. He bickers with Wayne constantly over bills, trying to get his uncle to let him help more, leaving stray bills in Wayne's pockets when he loses the argument.

If Eddie can be such a good Alpha, Steve can try and be a better Omega, just a little. He does tone his more Alpha-like tendencies down a little, just to be safe- doesn't bring up playing sports/working out as much when Eddie's around, asks Eddie to help move things instead of just doing it himself, lets other people grab stuff from high shelves rather than volunteering himself. It seems to be going well, all things considered. He and A!Robin (who knows about the Omega-image issues, but not that he's been playing a bit more of the helpless Omega for Eddie, because she absolutely wouldn't approve) are sure Eddie's going to ask him to start courting any day now, really!!

To hopefully kick-start the process, Steve eagerly volunteers to help Wayne with some manual labor. Something with the siding of the trailer; it won’t be difficult, but it'll be a lot easier with two people. He'd have helped anyway, of course, but he's very aware that Eddie is devoted to his uncle and wants him taken care of. Surely, if there's anything that would outweigh any distaste from the non-Omega-like behavior, it's helping Wayne. The day of, though, he's on a ladder (Wayne is holding the ladder steady; Steve threw a hissy fit when he tried to go up himself), hammering in the last couple nails when Eddie gets home.

Normally, Eddie seems ecstatic to see Steve in any scenario- at one of their houses, after Hellfire to take the kids home, the few times they've passed each other in the grocery store- but when Steve looks over to say hi, he doesn't look… pleased. He actually looks kind of. Angry? Maybe? His eyes are blank, not filled with the warmth he's used to. His mouth is pressed together in a thin line, jaw clenched.

Steve has gotten pretty good at reading Eddie, knows his facial expressions like the back of his hand, but this is new. New and not happy. It makes him self-conscious, make him want to jump off the ladder and go beg forgiveness from his Alpha for whatever he did, but Steve pushes it down. He's got a job to finish, and if that face is directed at him for too long there's a good chance he's going to start whining- or worse, crying. Eddie gets back in his van immediately, though, driving off who knows where. Steve tells himself he was probably just having a bad day, and didn't want company. That's just a thing that happens. Nothing immediately to do with Steve, surely, and Wayne doesn't seem bothered so it's fine. Definitely.

A few days pass, and the party are all at Steve's house. The pups (who are nearly grown, now, but that doesn't stop them from being Steve's Pups, okay?) are mostly in the pool. The technically-adults are enjoying the sun and calling out warnings when the play-fighting gets a little too rough. Steve and Lucas are practicing basketball a few feet away, trying to nail a particular, super impressive move that even Steve can only do with about 40% accuracy. (I don't know basketball, I'm sure something like this has to exist though, right??? Indulge me lol) The two of them have been at it all summer, to better Lucas’ chance of getting varsity next school year.

Then Lucas nails it. Absolutely picture-perfect form, better than even Steve has ever done it. And they go NUTS. Everyone is looking over, confused but generally amused at their antics. Steve is so proud that he doesn't even think about it, just lifts Lucas up so he's sitting on one of Steve's shoulders, so Steve can hold him up with one arm and gesture wildly with the other while parading Lucas around, explaining exactly why this is so impressive to the non-athletes.

Except. Then he happens to look over at Eddie. And it's the face from the other day. Closer now, he can see that Eddie's knuckles are white where they're clenched around his beer bottle. Steve still can't get a read on it, and Eddie hasn't been in the pool yet so the scent blocker is keeping Steve from being able to tell what's the matter. Again, Steve's first instinct is to figure out what he did, how he can be better. But this is Eddie. He's probably just bitter about a sports thing interrupting whatever nerd conversation he was probably having, and he'll get over it quickly. Besides, Lucas deserves his moment.

Eddie is fine the rest of the night, and it doesn't come up, so Steve manages to mostly forget about it. But a week or two later, Steve is dropping Max off at home after physical therapy, and she's clearly too tired and exhausted for the stairs but she'll never admit it. Steve moves slowly, telegraphing his intentions as obviously as he can to give her an out, but she doesn't take it. So he picks her up, gently as possible, and carries her up the steps, grabbing her crutches as well.

He doesn't push it, even if his Omega would be thrilled to bring her in and make sure she gets settled and drinks some water, because it'd make her uncomfortable and this is already a lot. They don't talk about it, they just say their goodbyes and Steve goes to drive home. He glances over at the Munson's trailer, purely out of habit, and in the window is Eddie. With the same facial expression as before. He turns away from the window before Steve can react, and the curtain is pulled.

Steve has the whole way home to question this, and the only similarity between the two events that could have caused that face is… Steve being too Alpha-like. The manual labor, carrying the pups around. He's too strong, too big. He's not a good Omega, and his Alph- Eddie, who isn't his Alpha yet and maybe now never will be- Eddie doesn't like it. He drops. Hard. He's not sure how he makes it back to his house, or inside. The next thing he knows, he's sitting next to the phone, Robin's voice coming distant but frantic from where it's dangling by the cord next to him.

Then she's there, in front of him. Worried, clearly, but Steve can't bring himself to do anything about it. He just stares. Time passes, clearly, because at some point he finds himself in his own bed, nest haphazarly built up around him where someone presumably tried to make it bigger without disturbing anything, staring blankly at the ceiling with Robin pressed against him.

His face is wet.

His eyes hurt.

Oh. He's been crying.

He remembers why.

His breath catches, and it's enough to get Robin's attention. She scrambles up, holding his face while she takes exaggerated breaths. He matches her breathing until he's sure they're past the risk of hyperventilating. He tells her everything- not just the times Eddie has seemed upset, but every time he's tried to be better, to be less, every time he's questioned if it would ever be enough. She clearly wants to comment, but she lets him get it all out first. When it's clear he's done, she bundles him in her arms. Calls him a dingus, so he'll crack a smile. They slowly transfer back down the stairs, curling up in a mass of limbs in front of the tv to watch whatever they can find without getting up.

Steve drives her home around midnight, knowing she has work tomorrow and he's got the day off. He swears he's fine, that he'll call if something changes. He waves her off, drives away, and heads in the opposite direction of home. He's okay for now, but if he goes home, he'll think about how empty it is, how he may never have an Alpha to help him fill the space and the quiet, and he won't be okay for long.

He ends up at the quarry. Still quiet, and he's still alone, but at least it's intentional here. He's not exactly watching the clock, but he's only idly thrown a handful of rocks down into the water when he hears a noise he could pick out anywhere. Eddie's van is pulling up, faster even than the ridiculous speeds he usually does. The gravel flies up as he slams on breaks, and the headlights are still fading out when Eddie throws himself out the door.

He hurries towards Steve, and when he's close enough, he drops to his knees. Steve tries to ask, tries to pull him up because that can't be good for Eddie's knees, especially when he's clearly in his pajamas and some untied shoes but Eddie grabs his hand and holds it in both of his own. Trips over his words as he tries to explain, rambles that Robin had called him after she got home, that Eddie had immediately run out the door, went to the house first and then drove around to find Steve.

Steve can feel the shame heating his cheeks, prickling in his gut. He's already mentally cursing Robin's overprotective nature. Of course she'd immediately tried to defend him. She'd probably told Eddie off, something embarrassing about leading him on or believing too much in gender roles despite his own nonconformity or whatever else. Steve tries to pull his hand away, but Eddie's got a firm grip and pleading eyes, and Steve's Omega is too desperate for some approval after his drop earlier to try too hard.

Eddie looks like he's tearing up, and Steve is too caught off guard by this whole thing to hold back the whine it pulls out of him. Even if he's hurt, seeing Eddie upset almost hurts his Omega more than anything else. Eddie's eyes go wide, and he surges to his feet, pressing Steve's hand to his chest and letting a reassuring rumble answer. Steve hates himself a little bit for how much it does calm him down.

Eddie rushes to explain. He's in love with Steve. He thinks Steve's easily the best Omega he's ever met, loves how much he cares for the people around him and protects their pups (Steve tries valiantly to ignore how his heart skips a beat at it being THEIR pups. He fails). The face Steve has been seeing has been Eddie straining to keep his Alpha from begging to bond with Steve on sight. Eddie wanted to court him, wanted to take it slow and romance him and do things properly because Steve deserves it, not ask Steve to have his babies in front of all their friends.

He's been waiting to ask, has been making Steve his own battle jacket since he'd liked Eddie's in the Upside Down as a first courting gift. Apparently, tracking down patches for artists Steve likes is a lot harder than finding patches for Eddie's favorites, and hand-sewing them all on has taken even longer. It's everything Steve could have ever hoped to want and so much more, and Eddie's not wearing any scent blockers, so underneath the heady smell of leather and comfort and Eddie, Steve can tell he's being honest.

The misunderstandings are forgiven. They start courting immediately, and Eddie gives him his own vest to wear as an IOU until Steve's is done. Robin is very mildly scolded for spilling Steve's business, which is cancelled out by the grin on Steve's face as he does it and the hug she tackles him in immediately after says she doesn't regret a thing. It's okay, though. Neither does Steve.

-irrelevantbutembarrassing

chomping on insecure omega Steve because he’s so biteable💕

[sweetfictionalworld]

Mine

Pairing: The Front Man /Hwang In-ho x Female Reader x The Masked Officer

Requested by anon: Reader being with the frontman, and the black guard just like to tease her and get the Frontman angry. Little did he know that the frontman was watching everything and put them both in their place.

Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, Oral Sex, Fingering, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Unprotected Sex, Cumshots.

"Mask off."

You obeyed the Officer's command, holding your gaze to the floor as the handsome man approached you.

"How many times have you been here now, y/n?"

"Five, Sir."

"You know, I've always wondered why a pretty, little thing like you ended up here of all places."

"Does it really matter?" you asked and looked up at him defiantly.

The Officer chuckled and stepped closer to you, running his finger down your jawline. You could feel your heart racing at the closeness of his body and the gentle touch of his finger.

"I guess not. But I know why you keep returning. Is the Front Man really that good of a fuck that you continue killing people just to get his dick?"

Your eyes widened and your face heat up. How could he possibly know this?

"I-It's not like that," you whispered and lowered your head.

The Officer's eyes widened in realization and he smiled mockingly. "Oh, I see. You love him. I'm sorry to say it, sweetheart, but he will never love you back. That man's heart is cold as stone."

"And yours isn't?" you asked, looking up at him again. You known for a long time now, that he wanted you. He was always flirting with you, calling you to his office for no apparent reason, just to tease you. And you would be lying to say that he didn't have an affect on you, he was a handsome and attractive man for sure. And a part of you wanted to make the Front Man jealous, to find out if he really cared about you or not.

The Officer smiled at your question. "You're probably right. In a place like this, who has the time to care about someone? But, it can't stop one from having a little fun."

He palmed your face and you held your breath as he lowered his face to yours, his lips nearly touching yours...

"Officer, back away."

You gasped at the Front Man's voice, the Officer only let go off your face and looked at his captain with a wide smirk, not caring about the fact that his helmet was off in front of his superior officer.

"Sorry, Captain. We were just...having a little conversation."

The Front Man walked up to the two of you, placing himself behind you with his hand on your shoulder.

"I do not share my belongings, Officer. And this one belongs to me."

A pang of heat rushed through your belly at his words.

"Oh? Are you sure that's what she thinks too? That she belongs to you?"

"I know so. Because she does everything I demand of her," the Front Man replied. "Now, sit down, Officer."

The Officer glared at the Front Man but did what he ordered, knowing what the consequences would be if he disobeyed.

"Y/n. Take your clothes off."

A wave of heat rushed through your core at his words and you bit down on your lip as you glanced up at the Officer and saw the spark of interest in his eyes where he sat in his armchair with his legs crossed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to calm your nerves. What choice did you have but to obey? And did you really want to disobey him? Opening your eyes, you held your gaze on the floor as you took of your mask and started undressing with trembling fingers, too self-conscious to meet the Officer's eyes.

In-ho smirked where he stood behind you, his dick twitching at the sight of your naked, tempting form.

You shot a glance upwards at the Officer, arousal spiking through your at the sight of his lust-filled eyes staring at your naked body.

"On your knees, y/n."

Cheeks flushed, you obeyed his command and dropped down to the floor.

In-ho smirked and lifted your chin, his voice dark and husky as he spoke again.

"Open that pretty mouth of yours."

You obeyed again, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue as the Front Man zipped down his slacks and took out his cock.

The Front Man tapped the head of his cock against your tongue. You flicked your tongue across the slit of the head, earning a breathy growl from the Front Man. Encouraged by his noises, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Slowly, you started bobbing your head, sliding your lips up and down his length. With each bob, you took more and more of him into your mouth until you started to gag.

"See what a good girl she is?" In-ho smirked and looked up at the Officer who kept staring at the sight in front of him. "She does everything I tell her to do. Even here. In front of you."

The Front Man grunted and grabbed your head, pressing you down on his cock and bucked his hips against your face. You choked and spluttered as his length pushed down your throat. The Front Man growled and released the grip on your head, allowing you to breathe. Gasping for air, you stared up at him and glanced over at the officer. A pang of heat rushed through your belly when you saw the cock in his hand, his brown eyes focused on you as he stroke himself.

The Front Man wrapped his hand around your throat and forced you to look at him. You gasped and stared up at the masked man.

"See how much he enjoys seeing your mouth wrapped around my cock? I bet he's gonna love seeing me ravage you."

"Please...," you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together to lighten the throbbing arousal.

"What's that?" The Front Man snickered and lowered his hand down between your legs, slipping his long finger through your wet folds and into your soaked pussy. You gasped and grabbed his arm, moaning with pleasure at finally having something inside your aching core. In-ho growled at the sensation of your spongy flesh gripping his finger and the sloppy noises your pussy was making as he moved his finger inside you.

"You're absolutely drenched. You want me inside you, little one?"

"Y-Yes, Sir...please...," you mewled, nearly sobbing as you desperately rode his finger.

The Front Man chuckled and removed his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and greedy for more. Your blurry mind was abruptly woken by his cock plunging into you from behind. Back arching and eyes widening, you looked at him over your shoulder, at the erotic sight of him crouching above you and pounding his cock into your gaping, soppy count. You caught something in the corner of your eyes and suddenly remembered the Officer was there. The sight he was giving you sent another wave of pleasure through your belly. He was still stroking himself, his pace faster now, matching the pace of The Front Man's hips. His mouth was half open, his chest heaving rapidly with breathy moans as he watched The Front Man fucking you from behind.

All of these impressions flooding your body and mind were too overwhelming, and you couldn’t control your body anymore as another gush of pleasure swept through your body. Throwing your head back, you pressed your ass back against The Front Man's hips, rutting against him erratically as your orgasm rolled like waves through your body.

In-ho growled and threw his head back at the feeling of your fluttering, clenching walls gripping his cock. He slammed into you one last time, his cock swelling and throbbing as spurts of his thick cum released into your cunt. Your eyes landed on the Officer just as he came, and a fountain of white semen erupted from his cock and painted the floor. You mewled softly at the sight, your pussy gently clenching around the Front Man's cock still lodged inside you as your body relaxed in post-orgasmic bliss. Then, you felt The Front Man's fingers in your hair and you gasped as he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at the Officer.

"This pussy will never be yours, Officer," The Front Man snarled. "You understand that? It belongs to me and I can fuck it whenever and wherever I want. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," the Officer swallowed nervously and quickly put himself back into his jumpsuit.

"Good. Now, come along, little one. I'm not finished with you."

Face flushed with embarrassment, you stood up and scrambled your clothes together, following the The Front Man with your head bowed, already feeling the burn of his paddle on your ass.

[irregularcollapse]

Something about your ‘limerance’ au has really stuck with me - all the little snippets you posted have me incredibly intrigued!

I think it’s the outsider POV to the Clegan relationship and how easily their dynamic can be misunderstood, because it’s truly only Gale and John who see each other clearly.

Would love another snippet if you’re still working on it, but otherwise just wanted to let you know that it is living in my head rent free (like all of your fics)!

I actually tried to work on this one the other day!! I got a bit self-conscious about it, but I still like the premise and every time I rewatch parts of MOTA with Curt in them, I’m reminded of how malleable an interpretation of his behaviour around the Buckies can be. I have particular thoughts about the bar scene (and it’s actually this scene that’s the basis for my ideas about past CurtBucky in ITIL).

But okay the limerance fic!! These are the first 500 words (under a cut), because I don’t actually know when I’m going to be finishing it:

The curveball is that this one is fucking blond.

Every other fuck-of-the-month that Bucky has brought round for as long as Curt’s known him—which is a long-ass time—has been a dark-haired slip of a thing. They’ve all without exception been brunette, sometimes curly, sometimes also with blue eyes, and it made good material for ribbing Bucky about his untold levels of narcissism. Curt would tease him, call his hookups The Other Bucky or Clone Kink instead of learning their actual name, and within a month they’d be gone anyway so it didn’t matter.

Then, a week or two later, there’d be another.

This one, though. This one is fucking blond, and though still not quite as tall as Bucky is definitely taller than Curt, and when he speaks he sounds like a cowboy and he moves with the ease of a dancer. They’re always pretty, of course they are, because Bucky has that face and that size and that powerful pull—pheromones, or something—but this one, well. It’s obscene, is what it is. People who go to book launch events aren’t supposed to look like that.

Bucky had asked if Curt wanted to go with him, that night. Curt remembers it, because it was a party at a bookstore for Bucky’s friend Alex and his first graphic novel, but Curt doesn’t know Alex and it honestly sounded like a bit of a drag, so he’d stayed in and played poker with his roommate’s buddies instead. It was only a couple days later, when Curt had asked Bucky if he wanted to grab a beer and see a movie, that Bucky had said, “Can’t. Got a date with a guy from the book party.”

And now, here he is: blond, and pouty-lipped, and golden-lashed, and angle-jawed; husky drawl and easy sprawl and legs long in his jeans. He had his arm spread over the back of a chair while Bucky got him a drink, and he leaves it there after Bucky sits down. The group has been talking around him, the way they’re used to talking around Bucky’s hookups (Curt had caught a raised eyebrow from Benny after they’d walked in together; he’s not the only one who thinks these things), and he hasn’t been making any effort to involve himself anyway. When Bucky sets the drink in front of him, his broad hand then drops to the guy’s thigh, spreading and squeezing. The smile he gives Bucky is a flicker. As Curt watches, Bucky leans in, and he can’t hear it over the noise of the bar from all the way across the table, but he swears that Bucky asks, “You okay?”

The guy smiles a bit wider then, nodding, and Curt’s tongue feels two sizes too big when Bucky smiles back and reaches up with his other hand to cup the guy’s chin. Maybe Curt only notices it because he’s looking, but it sends his ears buzzing when Bucky’s thumb rubs at that pink bottom lip, tracing the curve of it. Curt has never seen him do that before.

[qoldenskies]

FIRST DRAFT DEFEATED!!! its 54k words currently

[floralovebot]

i think i've said this before but i used to really not Understand or like timmy and helia being best friends but it really grew on me over time. obviously their main bestie is tecna and flora respectively, but specifically for just the specialists, i really like them now.

i just tend to think about timmy being this really self-conscious guy who is constantly being looked down on by his peers and even his crush, who is so committed to being a specialist but starts to doubt if he's worthy, who wants so badly to have a Special Someone who understands him,,, being put into this team where two of the members are already best friends and have an insane amount of history and loyalty to each and you can't just Get in the middle of that and the other guy is really, really stuck in his I Don't Need Friends They Disappoint Me Stage. like,,, the loneliness? the loneliness of not having a Best Friend on the team? then he finds tecna but even she starts to look down on him?

like,,, the toll that would take on someone is,,, not fun to think about. while they may not have a lot of scenes together, timelia being best friends is honestly so cute and makes so much sense. timmy had to put up with so much bullshit from the specialists (affectionate), finding someone who isn't going to look down on you, or doubt you, or always think of you as a Secondary Friend is So Important and that's such a big aspect of their friendship. timmy really trusts helia! and you can see this especially in the comics when he gets so mad that helia leaves. he's literally never acted like that with any of the other specialists! in the show or in the comics, timmy may get a little sad, but he never gets that angry and that desperate to contact whoever left. it just,,, says so much about him,,,

like timmy gets painted a lot as this nerd who only cares about tecna (and like. yes. true) but more than that, he's a very sensitive and caring guy who yearns for deep, trusting relationships. tecna is 100% his best friend and special person, but the friendship that timmy builds with the specialists and even the other winx is so important. he craved close relationships so much,,, and it's so nice that they didn't go into the loser lonely nerd trope.

i just really like that timmy was able to find friends that truly respect and love him. and specifically timmy being best friends with helia makes so much sense when you stop thinking about their interests and personalities, and instead think about how much the two of them craved people they could trust, people who would never make them feel less than, people who wouldn't treat them like backup friends, people they could actually connect to. it's just,,, they're so important to me actually <3

[gay-victorian-astronomer]

5, 8, 50!

5. How do you like your eggs?

In an omelette, with peppers, onions, ham and/or sausage, and cheese. Being able to go get an omelette at the dining hall afterwards is the only thing keeping me motivated to go to my stupidly early meeting. I also like them scrambled but I'm a bit pickier about the texture in that case.

8. Do you collect anything? If so, what?

The main thing I purposefully collect are pins, enamel and otherwise. A lot of them live on my denim jacket, but I actually have more pins than can fit on there at any given time. Here's the current state of the collection:

Most of the ones that don't live on the jacket are either too fragile, too large, tend to come off too easily, or I just don't like the design as much (the latter I keep around to swap out with the pride pins when I go visit my parents). A lot of the medium circular buttons were freebies from the library, and a lot of the others were bought from local artists— if you're curious about where I got a particular pin, let me know (in a reply/DM) and I can try to dredge up a link if it's one that I bought.

I actually want to do a lot more to this jacket— because I usually wear a backpack I can only put pins on a limited part of it, so I want to start making/collecting patches to put everywhere else. I have a few already and I've bought materials for a large back patch, but haven't had the time to actually put it together. I also want to acquire some Disco Elysium-related pins or patches, but I haven't found any that really vibe with me yet.

50. Describe your perfect sleeping conditions.

The only thing I really need to be able to sleep is a very dark room— as little ambient light as possible. Beyond that, I generally prefer a room that's on the colder side, so I can fully hunker down into the comforter, but not so cold that I need to wear socks or add an additional blanket (too many layers of fabric starts to bother me, I sleep in just my underwear for the same reason). I sleep best when I'm alone (which is how I almost always sleep, not entirely by choice), and I don't usually sleep with stuffed animals unless I'm feeling particularly lonely that night. If we're really talking ideal sleeping conditions, then I wouldn't have an alarm set, and I'd have a solid hour or two of time after I wake up to dick around on my phone until I'm ready to get out of bed.

[longagoitwastuesday]

Do you have favorite actors for the various roles in "Cyrano de Bergerac"? I would love to hear your thoughts!

I do! I actually rambled a lot about this while I was watching the different productions I could get my hands on (I tagged it "Cyrano de Bergerac" and "I talk too much").

My favorite productions are the one with José Ferrer and the one with Benoit Solès, and those actors make the best Cyranos in my opinion. Though that's probably something in part beyond the actors' choice, their dynamic with their respective Roxane and Christian are the best ones, I think, and I find how Cyrano moves around these two particular characters at the core of a good Cyrano characterisation.

José Ferrer's use of his voice, which is arguably Cyrano's true most characteristic feature, is unmatched imo (although McAvoy does a very good job with this too), and he manauvers very well several of the different aspects of the character, such as his playfulness, his shittiness and longing. By the end of the play you believe he is the most beautiful man on Earth. Cyrano, however, is a bit pathetic (not just in a "pathos" way), and I'd say Ferrer gives off an air full of dignity very fitting of many scenes, but that eats almost entirely this aspect of Cyrano; Benoit Solès manages this very well, while also playing well with some of the other ones, such as the playfulness, the longing, the pain and the despair. Both Ferrer and Solès are hilarious, tender, a bit shitty, vulnerable, playful and sad. Albeit neither of them portrays 100% what Cyrano is, I think both come pretty close in slightly different flavours, and by the end of the play one ends up being terribly fond of them.

My favourite Roxane is Clara Huet in the production with Benoit Solès, but Mala Powers in the 1950 film is a close second. I think they portray wonderfully Roxane's spunk, and her mix of honest playful cheerfulness and her haughtiness, her intelligence and wit, and how much like Cyrano she is.

I've not come to love for now any Christian as much as I've loved Ferrer, Solès, Huet and Powers, but again I think the Christians in the 1950 film and the Solès productions are very very good. I love the dynamic they have with their Cyranos, especially the one Christian and Cyrano have in the 1950 film, enhanced positively by the added scenes (they actually work so well in showing their developing as friends, their deep love and care for each other!). I don't want to expand too much on this to avoid spoilers (beyond the already known 'Christian dies' ones I mean), but some things they do with both these Christians are a thing of genius, and both feel vulnerable, kind, ready to fight and truly desperate at times; I like when they do that.

There's an Italian production which has a Cyrano I truly enjoy as well, despite how they dumbify him more than I usually like my Christians. His mix of anger and deep pain when he discovers Cyrano's feelings for Roxane were so well made, and his physical presence makes you identify who Christian is even before the play starts.

The Podalydès production has two different Christians. The one in the version on youtube isn't bad, but @ride-a-dromedary likes Éric Ruf a lot. I actually adore him based on the clips and gifs she's posted of him, but I haven't been able to find the version with him online, so I can't know. But he truly seems one of the best. Based on what little I've seen, I love his intense gazes and subtle gestures.

I'm not entirely sold on any Le Bret, De Guiche or Ragueneau yet.

I think the German musical has a decent Ragueneau in vibes, and the 1990 French film does as well. I found his poem made song for what I think is a Spanish production (I'm not sure if it's a fan creation based on the Spanish production), and while I've not been able to find that production online, the song works well in vibes too I think.

The German musical's Le Bret in vibes is very good. He encompasses well his deep love and worry for Cyrano while also being done with his shit. They truly feel like close friends. The 1950 film kind of combines Gaston de Castel-Jaloux and Le Bret into one character, which sadly changes Le Bret's dynamic with Cyrano a bit, but that's a very good Le Bret as well. The one in Solès' production is pretty good too. He has my favourite delivery of the scene in which Le Bret chastises Cyrano for risking his life sending letters.

De Guiche is complicated. I think productions often make him too pathetic and laughable or too bad, so bad it makes the last act kind of not make sense. The 1950 one, the 1990 French one, the Kevin Kline one and the Solès one are all good, but I am not passionate for any of them either.

And basically that's it!

[tonycries]

I'm Addicted, I Admit It!

Synopsis. They’re not drunk on alcohol - no, they’re drunk on you and your pretty lil’ pússy.

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

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pússydrunk boys, strength differences, bréeding, màting press, desperate boys, manhandling, marking, jealousy (Nanami’s side), praise, degradation, smacking, cúmplay, dirty talk, some HEINOUS things, lowkey fluffy Sukuna, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Was originally gonna be something else but I couldn’t get it out of my head so-

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Won’t stop, can’t stop

A pussydrunk Toji Fushiguro promises to break you - and is fully intent on fulfilling these promises. There’s no way he wasn’t with the way he had you folded into a mating press for the third time tonight. 

“Oh hngh- please.” you mewl, begging for- you don’t even know at this point. 

“Fuck.” he hisses into your mouth, and you flinch as his heavy balls smack your ass harder, throbbing cock massaging your gummy walls over and over-

You weren’t going to make it out alive. 

Vision blurry, drool dribbling down the corner of your mouth, his cum gushing out of your overfilled pussy and spreading in a lewd little pool beneath you. You’re beyond the point of cockdrunk at this point - all you can do is sit there and take it while he keeps squeezing himself into you with reckless abandon. 

That little scar on the corner of his mouth rubs against your lips so deliciously as he grimaces in both pain and pleasure. Overstimulating you both to insanity. And fuck, Toji wasn’t even sure if he could cum against but damn if he wasn’t going to try. Just wanting to fill you up one more time- “One more, doll. Not fucking enough.”

And before you know it, your pussy is clenching around nothing. 

“Ngh- T-Toji.” Face sinking into the plush pillow as Toji flips you like a ragdoll. Not even giving you the time to register what’s happening before he’s bullying his thick cock into your dripping cunt from behind. Relishing in that delirious little squeal of surprise that leaves you as he stuffs you full again.

“Shit, fucking squeezing around me so fucking deliciously, sweetheart. Look at ya.” he slurs hoarsely, voice shot. Drinking in your sobbed little, “Ah- jus’ like that. Fuck hngh- keep going-”

Both of you are barely lucid at this point, but it’s all that tiny rational part of himself can do to not fuck into your sloppy pussy like an animal while you clench and flutter around him. Kissing hotly down your spine as you desperately adjust to his massive cock.

But ah you should’ve known - should’ve gotten an inkling of realization at the way his achingly hard cock was throbbing inside your walls at a maddening little bump! bump! bump!

With an impatient little grunt, Toji wraps an arm around your waist to give your quivering cunt a soft little swat! He drinks in your cute lil’ gasp of surprise, reeling back all the way till his angry, red tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance, pushing in quick, short jabs of his hips - more to fit himself deeper inside your snug cunt than anything. 

With each harsh thrust, Toji’s pulling you back onto himself with bruising strength. Forcing you to feel every ridge and vein against all the right places as he stretches you on his cock. “Fuck, you’re incredible.” he murmurs. “Arch more f’me- yeah, that’s it. Tha’s my girl.” 

And oh how you love being thrown around by him this way. Because no more was Toji self-conscious about hurting you like he usually was. 

No, he’s pushing your back down to arch into his dick, still using and bending you however he pleases. And as he flattens his feet on the mattress, putting his body weight onto yours, it’s only a matter of time before you wonder when bones will start breaking.

But it still wasn’t enough. And he’s restless. 

Because Toji’s looping two strong arms around your legs, letting himself fall backwards onto the mattress, hips burning as he keeps fucking you like an animal. Not pausing even as you clench around him in shock. 

“Feels s’fucking heavenly.” he groans, voice raw. “Wan’ one more, sweetheart. Give me one more.” Lacing his fingers above your head to push. Down down down. So fucking filthily. 

And it burns the way he had you so shamefully spread open. At this point you can hardly believe you’re conscious let alone being able to sob out a strangled little, “Yes! Yes yes yes make me cum, Toji. Make me cum all over your cock again.” 

And he does - thumb pressing down on your poor, ravaged clit. Hard. unmoving even as you whine and buck into his touch. Torn between running away and pushing back for more more more- you cum with nothing more than pathetic little tingles that make you milk Toji’s cock desperately. Batting your lashes tearily up at him with a low, “Wan’ you to hah- c-cum insi-.”

You don’t even have to finish the sentence, before Toji’s pumping his seed into you with a strangled groan of what sounds like your name. Nothing more than hot, sticky wisps of cum that trickle down the side, too much for your poor overfilled pussy. Shooting delicate rope after rope until his cock is angry and twitching inside with nothing but blanks.

But in the haze of your high, you hear the way your boyfriend still finds it in himself to chuckle.  A dark little, “One more, sweetheart.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - His, his, his

When Nanami Kento is pussydrunk, everyone will know the day after. 

And by everyone, it’s everyone - from the apartment security guard that blushes and looks away, to your coworkers who titter when you walk in. 

Because Nanami can’t stop himself from claiming each and every inch of your pretty self. Lips searing on your skin, leaking tip dragging along your swollen folds. His precum smearing so filthily across your cunt.

“K-Kento-” you mewl, grinding your hips into his so that he would just fucking ruin you like you wanted him to. 

“Mhm?” he murmurs, nipping along the delicate skin of your neck. Tongue flattening, licking long, languid stripes down like a sort of reverence. “Tell me what you want, my love.”

And if he put an emphasis on the pet name, well, then let it be known that Nanami Kento was a composed man - but that wouldn’t mean he won’t let everyone know you’re his. Even those scrubs that can’t take a hint. 

Which is why his neat fingernails were digging deep into your hips, leaving pretty crescents in their wake. Dragging down ever-so-slightly to leave you all marked up and his. His grip on you only tightens at the pretty lil’ whines that spill from your kiss-bitten lips, “Wan’ you- hah- inside me s’bad.”

“Oh? And who does my girl want inside her pretty lil’ cunt?”

“You! You Kento- ngh-”

Well, whatever his girl wants - she will get. Because Nanami’s immediately pressing his angry, leaking tip into your sloppy pussy, groaning at the way you’re already clamping down on him so deliciously. Not stopping till you were flush against the neat tufts of blond at his base. Barely even giving you time to adjust because you’ve wanted this for so long and you’re sucking him up so well. 

“Ah! Hngh- Fuck. Yeah fuck me just like that- Kento.” you’re tightening your legs around him, letting Nanami all but use you as he thrusts in small, mindless little motions of his hips. Mouth still marking and biting your skin relentlessly. 

His lips leave your neck to whisper against yours, eyes half-lidded and boring into yours. “Love when y’say my name.”

Gasping breathlessly at the bruising grip all on your hips - your sensitive clit - your throat - just everywhere because Nanami can’t get enough of you. And you can do nothing but buck up deliriously as he speeds up his pace. Ramming his thick cock into your sloppy pussy deeper and deeper. “You’re mine, y’know that? All mine. And anyone with eyes can see that.”

Several things happen at once, you let out a strangled moan as Nanami changes his angle to hit that one spot he knew so well. Flushed tip hitting it over and over until you were sure it was bruising. As bruising at the hand kneading your ass, swiftly coming down. Hard. 

Smack!

Nanami’s large handprint sears into your skin. And through the haze, he soothes his hand over the sting. Starting to draw slow, languid circles on your swollen clit like a little apology - but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be any nicer. Not at all - in fact, before you can react, he’s touching any and every inch of skin once more, making sure to leave pretty lil’ marks for days.

And he has to fight that loud, carnal part of himself that just wants to ruin you under his hands here forever, but no - Nanami needs everyone else to see as well. See how you’re so beautifully his.

Smack! 

“So pretty f’me, my girl. All f’me.”

“Yes! Ah- yes yes yes. S’all for you, Kento oh-” you moan brokenly like a mantra. A raw little ah! ah! ah! Leaving your swollen lips each time his twitching balls smack your ass, so wet and sloppy with your slick. You’re sure they leave a mark every time his achingly hard cock bullies into your snug cunt, dipping in and out in and out in and-

“Yeah? Then you’re gonna cum f’me, too, pretty girl?”

“Yes- ah-” Hand on your clit frenzied now, hips out of control. Breath hot against your ear while he holds you down in a bruising grip. So very filthy and all his-

And then you’re cumming. Jolts of electricity sparking down your spine as you cum so hard that you grab at Nanami’s sculpted back for some - any - semblance of sanity. 

The only things on your mind being how hot and heavy he was fucking you through your high, and the sharp sting on the crook of your neck, his canines digging into your delicate skin.

“F-fuck.” he whispers, muffled in your neck. “Squeezin’ me so tight. Ngh-” hips stuttering and so sloppily still meeting yours. Still fucking rock-hard.

And through your glassy vision you manage to make out the pure pride shining in his eyes as he reads the silent question on your face. 

“Not yet, my girl. I still see some blank spots.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Quiet bully

“Mm, not hngh- stopping until you cum again f’me, pretty girl.”

When Geto is pussydrunk you barely even notice at first.

Because he’s the ever-graceful and suave Geto Suguru, even when he’s ramming into your pretty pussy with reckless abandon. Head thrown back, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead, hands bruising on your hips and pulling you to deeper into his hips as he fucks you from behind. 

The only way you do get an inkling of the fact is because he’s so mean. Geto always is in bed - but right now he’s just bullying you. Long index toying with your swollen clit, quick, maddening little motions to get you off for the nth time tonight. 

“But, Suguru!” you mewl, clawing at the sheets, “C-can’t cum again-”

“You will.” he leans down, breath hot against your ear as he whispers, low and gravelly. His abs are rubbing against your back as he keeps his unforgiving pace, “I’ll make sure of it.”

Because Geto doesn’t get drunk on just your pussy - no, he gets drunk off of all of you and how pretty you are when you’re cumming all for him. 

“C’mon, you do it f’me.” he hums, so mockingly innocent that would’ve almost believed him - if it wasn’t for the way he speeds up on your clit. Throbbing cock twitching inside you at the delicate tears streaking down your face. 

Fingers merciless on your clit, balls smacking against your skin, holding you still as he rams into you over and over-

“S-Suguru!” you let out a strangled gasp, white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes as you cum. And oh he loves that cute lil’ expression on your face, the tears clinging on to your lashes and the way your slutty cunt flutters so filthily around him.

You’re lucky you’re turned away from him, because you don’t see the cruel little smile that curls his lips or the excitement flashing in his darkened eyes. Though, maybe it would’ve better prepared you for when he huffs out a fucked-out, “Tha’s my girl. One more- Hngh- one more.”

Your eyes snap open, a broken little sob leaving you because fuck you weren’t going to make it out alive, Geto was going to absolutely ravage you till you’re ruined-

“O-one more.” Geto groans like a mantra. Flattening his feet on the bed to ram into you at a different angle - one he knew would hit you at that one spot that had you gasping and grinding deeper into his throbbing cock. “One more f-fuck, give me one more-”

If you were in a better state of mind maybe you’d have noticed how fucking sloppy and mean Geto was slamming his cock into your snug pussy. And how his sadistic little hums were becoming more and more strained, turning into broken grunts like he was begging you. Begging himself. Still fucking you like an animal, bodyweight pushing yours down, you crushed underneath him. Trying to milk that last, sweet little orgasm out of you.

“Cum f’me once more, my girl.”

And nothing more has to be said before you’re cumming. Again. Eyes scrunching shut in pain and pleasure as you grab at the headboard for some semblance of stability. 

Honestly, you don’t even have to, because Geto’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against his heated body. Grunting as your cunt desperately tries to milk him for all he’s worth. Brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten in concentration as he holds off cumming. But Geto can’t - won’t right now. Not yet. 

Instead he’s reeling his hips back again, until his angry, red tip was just kissing your sloppy hole. Running on just your cute lil’ whines and the way you were clamping down so deliciously around him. Thrusting in frantic, shallow grinds for now because he was feeling so generous as to ease you into it.

“Suguru! Ah- not again-” you squeal, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks. But whatever plea that comes next gets stuck in your throat as your loving boyfriend utters words that have your cunt clenching exhaustively in anticipation. 

“Now the real fun starts.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Please, baby. Please.”

For Choso, it’s hard to not get drunk off of your pretty lil’ cunt. And he gets so whiny and needy when he does. Barely even squeezing his throbbing cock through the first ring of muscle before he thinks he might just see the pearly gates of heaven - and you were an angel. 

You’re just so warm and sloppy on top of him, slick dripping down to his twitching balls, swallowing him up so deliciously. 

“Ah! Ngh- s-slow down-” you whine, head spinning at the pure stretch of him stuffing you full. His twitching balls were pressed against your ass, veins grazing against your plushy walls, pulsing in a maddening thump! thump! thump! that you can feel in your throat. “S’too big, Cho. I don’t think I can-” 

“No!” he gasps into your skin, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed so deceivingly innocently. “Need it s’bad. Need you so bad- Fuck, I can’t stop-” 

Hips moving mindlessly, fucking up in tiny, shallow little thrusts to bully himself inside you. Not even fully inside you, but he was already so out of control. 

The mattress is creaking deafeningly, a lewd little staccato with the squelches from down below. “Choso-” you whimper, torn between clamping down on his swollen cock to suck him up more desperately and running away. 

“Oh- oh baby, f-fuck. Squeezing m’so tight.” he’s groaning into the crook of your neck, strong arms wrapped so tight around your waist that it almost hurt. “Hngh- Don’t think you can run away from me.” And Choso couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to - barely even giving you time to adjust before he’s milking himself on your dripping cunt. 

Cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips each time he rams himself inside deeper and deeper, you were just gushing around him. Pretty pussy taking him so readily despite your protests. “Need this so hngh- fucking badly. Need this need this need this-”

“F-fuck, Cho- Yes, give it t’me.”

Ah, his head was spinning. The only thoughts running through his mind being how sloppy you were, so wet and squeezing him so perfectly - his pretty girl was taking him so well. 

Blindly, Choso shifts onto his forearms, head craning to graze his lips along the seam of your mouth . Mind too hazy to kiss you properly like he wanted to - but it’s fine, he’ll kiss you silly after this. Fuck, he muses, balls squeezing painfully, just as soon as he cums. 

And you can do nothing more than take it as he chokes out low little moans of your name. Head spinning because his cock was so big and he wasn’t stopping - just wanting to fuck your tight pussy until he-

“Ngh- c-can’t fucking take it anymore, baby. Need to fucking cum.” he grunts, tearing springing to his eyes, sounding like he’s losing a bit of his sanity every time his heavy balls smack your ass. And he needed you to, too - ringed fingers snaking down to draw harsh, frenzied little patterns on your swollen clit. Not even circles because shit Choso doesn’t have the time for that - just wanting to have you gasping and seeing stars as soon as possible. 

“Cho, m’c-close. Ah! Ngh, m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum-” you keen, hips bucking up wildly for more more more- And oh it’s like Choso’s favorite song, because his throbbing cock is twitching inside you so deliciously, thrusts sloppy and unfocused, thumb aching with how fast it was on your clit. 

“Me too, baby. Hngh- m-me too.” he gasps into your open mouth, movements only getting faster and faster and-

And then you’re cumming. Stars behind your eyes, and Choso’s hips stuttering - so desperate, so filthy as he shoots thick, hot spurts of cum into your snug cunt. Fucking his seed deeper and deeper into you mindlessly. 

And he can’t stop - he won’t. But you absolutely love it. Because you’ve barely blinked the haze from your eyes before he’s pulling away ever-so-slightly, a hand pushing away the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Breaths ragged, voice hoarse. 

“Not enough, baby.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Sober thoughts

They say drunk minds speak sober thoughts, and oh how Sukuna wishes that wasn’t the case when he’s fucking you dumb. How he wishes he could stop the strained little grunts that escape him each time his heavy balls smack your ass. 

“Kuna- Ngh- s’too much, c-can’t anymore-”

How he wishes he wasn’t drunk off your cute lil’ whines, and that fucked-out expression on your face as he rams his cock into your pretty pussy. Plunging into your heavenly cunt again and again and- It was too fucking much for him. 

Because it makes him wish he didn’t lean down, whispering softly in your ear, “You can do it, angel. Hah- I I know you will. Hngh- That pretty cunt is made f’me, always taking me so good-”

Ah, you clench so obscenely around his thick cock, shivers running down your spine. Milking him so obscenely as his weeping tip hits your poor cervix over and over. 

“W-wha-?” you blink tearily at him, voice shot. Trying to grasp reality because usually, Sukuna would usually tell you to shut up and fucking take it like the good lil’ slut you are. And if you were in a better state of mind you’d almost be embarrassed at the way he holds such power over you, just a few words of praise and you’re already turning into his personal plaything. 

He huffs out in frustration, leaning down to lick a long, lazy stripe up your cheek, gathering the big fat tears rolling down it on his tongue. And you can’t even think of bringing yourself to be disgusted, because this is Sukuna and he’s always so filthy and mean. 

Except right now, being mean is the last thing on his mind. Murmuring out a strained little “Don’t act so surprised. You know you always milk my cock so well.” drinking in your cute little whimpers. “Shit- like yer trynna suck the s-soul out of me. Never met someone so fucking perfect f’me-”

He thinks he could almost cum right here right now when he sees you snaking down a hand to play with your swollen clit. “But Kuna~” Such an adorable pout appearing on your face when he gently smacks that hand away. Sukuna just wants to kiss it off your swollen lips.

And he does - licking hotly at the seam of your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip while you keen into his. It’s messy - all teeth and spit and adoration. 

Because you might not see it with your eyes half-lidded from the ecstasy, but Sukuna is looking at you with such nauseating heart-eyes. Ones he’d vehemently deny later, of course. But for now he settles for groping a hand down your pretty body, one, long finger rubbing unhurried little circles on your throbbing, achy clit. 

“Don’t worry your pretty lil’ head.”

So different from his unforgiving cock. All push and pull as he fucks you like his sextoy, but kisses you like his God. 

“Ah! Jus’ like that, feels so f-fucking good-” you’re a teary, whimpering mess underneath him. 

“Mhm? Feels s’good, huh?” he groans gutturally. Letting you buck wildly underneath him because shit you look so pretty being all desperate and needy for him. “Squeezin’ me s’tight. Fucking heavenly you are, you’re gonna pay for it if I cum early, angel.”

Your eyes snap open at his delirious confession and the way he seems well and fully intent on breaking you - and talking you nicely through it. It was making your head spin, especially at the way Sukuna get more and more out of control, all sloppy movements and even sloppier words. Slurring out little praises while he stuffed your ravaged cunt faster. Deeper. Pure, carnal need where he usually toyed with you so cruelly. Closer and-

“Cum for me, angel.”

You think you cum at the first word out of his mouth, because you’re seeing stars behind your eyes before Sukuna even finishes the sentence. And he’s not far behind - giving you one, final harsh thrust before filling you up in thick ropes of cum. It gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy as he keeps fucking into you like some animal. Letting out little mutters of how fucking beautiful you were and how heavenly your cunt is and-

And, well, by the time he’s collapsing into your ready arms, Sukuna might not be so pussydrunk anymore. But by God it doesn’t stop the way he nuzzles your hair softly. 

Pulling your sweaty body close to his, so fucked-out and exhausted. So fucking debauched with the way his cum gushes out of you. Hot and sticky, seeping into the sheets and pooling in the nonexistent space between you two. 

So very, very his. 

♡ GOJO SATORU - Shut up!

Gojo Satoru doesn’t shut up - not even when he’s stuffing his cock into your pretty pussy, and especially not when he’s drunk off of the heavenly feeling. Off the sight of you - all swollen lips fallen into a soft oh!, eyes glassy and miles away, so debauched and pretty underneath him - he just has to let you know.

“Look at you. Fucking perfect. Gonna fuck you till I can’t anymore.” he murmurs wetly. “Gonna make it feel so good f’you. Gonna have y’milk my cock until there’s nothing to milk.”

And Gojo swears he isn’t pussydrunk - but the way he’s babbling into your tits says otherwise. Looking up at you through his long lashes with dazed, hooded eyes, words muffled around your tit but still he keeps running his mouth. 

“Hngh- S’fucking tight and hot around me.” he murmurs, hips snapping to meet yours, milking himself mindlessly on your snug cunt. So hard that it almost hurt at the sting of skin-on-skin. “God, could stay like this f-forever.”

He was getting so loud now. Mixing with the sloppy squelches from below.

“You could, too, huh? Drunk on my cock enough to? Y’look like it-”

That makes your cheeks heat up. “Satoru-” You scramble to hastily cover Gojo’s mouth, stopping that sweet sweet voice from saying the most filthy things. You can feel his smug little grin underneath your fingertips, and you almost know what’s coming- before he licks a long, amused stripe up your palm.

Snatching your hand back, you sigh - as best you could when your boyfriend was ramming his thick cock inside you - “Satoru! What did I say about-”

“But you make it so easy, sweetheart.” he whines, hands roaming all over your body. Gripping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach before resting at your swollen clit. Pooling your sweet juices on his fingertips, drawing featherlight circles around the nub like he was trying to convince you. “Don’t lie. Y’like this big mouth. Love it even.”

Unlike Gojo - it’s hard to get your words out when he’s bullying his cock into your dripping cunt. Ramming into you over and over-

“Admit it. Don’t you love it? Love hearing me talk fucking filthy to you like this?” His words were coming out fast now, mixing with your cute whines and the heady air of the room. Each one punctuated by a brutal, harsh into your dripping cunt. 

Fingers working magic on your sensitive clit while his cock ravages you below. And the great Gojo Satoru does not give a fuck about your hushed whispers about how your neighbours are home or how “this is the fifth time they’ve complained.”

Because his girl’s pretty lil’ cunt is fucking perfect and he needs you to know.

Gojo presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. Thrusts growing more and more careless. Losing his sanity with each stroke - with each word that comes out of his mouth. “I know you like it.” he groans, “I can see it in your eyes, n’ the way this slutty lil’ pussy squeezes me so fucking tight.”

Dragging - not pushing - you both closer to the edge. Frantic now, syllables slurring together and Gojo’s hips stuttering into yours. Drunk off of you and your cunt and the way he can’t stop talking and talking and-

“Yes,” your words were a barely audible whisper - but Gojo hears. Of course, he does. “I love it. Fucking love it, Toru.”

And then he’s cumming - and cumming so hard that Gojo thinks he’ll never be able to stop. Not, that he’d ever want to.

Because Gojo keeps pumping the thick, hot spurts of cum oozing out of him into your sloppy pussy. And shit you look so pretty underneath him, his seed dribbling down your thighs, eyes fluttering shut as you cream around his cock. And, of course, he has to let you know - babbling about how cute you were milking his cock and how warm and wet.

And Gojo’s still running his mouth as he pulls out, over your disappointed little mewl. All the way down till he’s swiftly centered between your open legs. Breath fanning your cunt, a devilish grin curling his lips.

“Time to help you remember exactly how much you love this big mouth.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[sir-reinhardt]

he is shipping out from my dealer this week 🎉 soon.

[darkspace7]

Overture

"A plucked note, a half familiar tune, it's okay if you don't remember the words- you will soon."

(Or in which Ichigo has a bad day, meets a guy with personal space issues and who looks way too much like his zanpakuto to be comfortable, and finds out reincarnation is also apparently a thing?) Words: 10572 Rated: Fiction T A/N: This is actually very old wip that I found in one of my old journals and simply decided one day to finish on a whim. I've always been rather fond of reincarnation stories and figured it would work out rather well here. Also honestly I just wanted to have an excuse for Ichigo being a salty little shit to someone. Anyway, I do not hold the rights for either DGM or Bleach because -let's be honest here- would I really be writing fanfiction if I did?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Overture"-noun: an orchestral piece that serves as the precursor to a larger musical composition; the start of something much bigger. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Sixteen…"

With a flash of steel viscera flew away, shattering into nothingness before it even had a chance to hit the ground.

"Seventeen…"

The thick blade of the khyber knife slid through flesh and bone with little effort, carving a path of destruction in its wake.

"Eighteen!"

The teen hefted the massive blade onto his shoulder and cast a glance back at one of the (un)fortunate few hollows that had managed to escape from the carnage. ' Though not for long… ' "Oi Ishida!" He called out suddenly, "That's eighteen now, how many have you managed so far?"

A bolt of blue soared past him, just narrowly missing by a small margin as it went on to pierce the mask of one of the more opportunistic hollows who thought they might be able to get a cheap shot or two in while he was distracted. "Perhaps you should focus on the task at hand instead of asking inane questions like who can kill the most hollows in one go Kurosaki." The bespectacled Quincy replied in a droll tone as he leapt back, ducking quickly in an effort to avoid the clawed swipe a low-level adjuchas before launching off a volley of arrows in retaliation. "And it's twenty-three if you must know."

"Damn." Ichigo turned away with a grumble but still felt the need to retort,"Yeah, well, you know we wouldn't even be out here in the first place with if a certain somebody hadn't shoved me back into that crate of hollow bait!"

"I already told you that was an accident! My arms were so full of stuff that I couldn't even see over them! How on earth was I supposed to know you were right behind the door? I may have talents that span across many fields, but you will be hard pressed to find being psychic among them." "Uh-huh, yeah, sure." Ichigo nodded entirely unconvinced, "Tell that to the hand you messed up!" He flicked said appendage toward the other teen. An action of which merely caused the other to roll his eyes. "It was just a small cut Kurosaki, stop being so melodramatic." "Melodramatic?!" The teen cried, "You're not the one who ended up taking an entire shelf down with him! I got dirt and god-knows-what in this damn thing. Do you know how much bacteria is in that shit? I'm lucky if it doesn't get infected!" A shout quickly cut both of them off and not a moment later it was followed with a large hollow being sent sailing past the taller teen. He blinked and turned to the source. "Hey how you holding up Chad?

"Fine." Yasutora Sado -or as he was known to his friends- Chad replied. "I managed to get thirty so far." His armored fist crashed through the skull of a still-twitching creature. "Though I think that was the last one."

The deafening sound of a garganta tearing through the night sky drew their attention upwards. Twin sets of bleached bone hands accompanied by the massive visages of their owners peered out of the void-like spacial tear. They stared up at the newly-arrived gillians for a second before Chad spoke up once more. "I might've been wrong." Uryu pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

"You know…" Ichigo eyed the gillians with a discerning look, "This feels suspiciously familiar for some reason." He turned to face his Quincy companion speculatively, "Didn't we have to do something similar to this the last time you decided to be an idiot?"

"Ugh, don't remind me." He grumbled, shooting the teen a gimlet stare. "Don't tell me you're thinking of rushing up and trying to knock them down from the bottom-up again are you?"

'Er well maybe not from the bottom-up anyway.' The substitute shinigami thought with a flush. "That was one time! And from what I remember, its not like your plan was any better!"

"Excuse me?" Came the indignant response. Ichigo's look was as dry as his words, "It involved tying my sword to your head and trying to shoot the damn thing down Ishida. I think that counts."

"Ichigo."

"What?" The teen turned to his tall friend who in turn made a silent gesture towards the general vicinity of the massive hollows, the other's gaze locked on something in the distance. Curious, he traced the path only to spot the telltale glow of a cero beginning to form on the leftmost gillian's lips. "Oh…shit." With that he moved.

Shifting into a shunpo, he flickered up and over to meet the threat. Zangetsu out and at the ready, he sent forth a nameless arc of energy directly into the large beast's face. The light of the cero dissipated as the gillian was knocked back from the sheer force of the attack. Incensed, the being let out an ear-drum shattering screech.

However, not giving it a chance to recover, Ichigo launched himself forward and swung. A fearsome cry ripped loose as the blade cleaved though the hollow's mask and eventually the being itself. "That's nineteen." He slid back, allowing the dissipating reishi of the newly purified beast to filter around him as he made to survey his newest target. "Now let's see if we can make it twenty."

A faint shimmering glow began to encapsulate the zanpakuto as wisps of power rose up to meet their king's demand. Slipping one foot back, he settled into a firm stance, braced the charged blade with a strong grip, and then uttered the two damning words, "Getsuga Tensh-?!"

It was then, at that very moment, he felt his power surge. Taken off guard by the unexpected ferocity he jerked and involuntarily released the charged attack. However he only had a split second to process this before it all went to hell. It was… odd, he thought with a detached air. There was the vague sense of his half-called attack coming forth to strike the unfortunate hollow with enough force that if the blast itself hadn't destroyed it then the resounding shockwave would have managed that thrice over. A searing throb pulsed through his arm as ringing echoed with an omnipresent chime in his ears. He thought if he strained hard enough that he could maybe make out the disant voices of his friends and the rush of wind flowing past him as he flew. And then suddenly the world shifted and he was falling and everything was beginning to lose focus and then- Darkness.

-------------------------------[ - XIV - ]------------------------------------ … … …? **…? It.. me, ****. Ca. ..u …r m. ..t? ***** y.u …d .. get up! ***..?!

"Damn it Ichigo wake up!" -------------------------------[ - XV - ]---------------------------------- Warm brown eyes flickered a bit as the lids hiding them cracked open- only to clamp shut seconds later with a pained hiss. He opted to remain like that as he took stock of his situation. He was obviously still alive if the general ache that seemed to run through every part of his body were any indication (and shit if it didn't hurt) and from what he could tell, he was sprawled out on on something hard and cold - the ground- presumably. His hand twitched and brushed up against something at his side. Curiosity taking precedence for the moment, he hazarded a glance around until his slit-eyed gaze happened upon the thing. It was his sword, somehow he had managed to keep his grip on the blade despite being tossed about like a ragdoll. Good to know.

"Ichigo!"

His head tilted towards the shout and the tension bled from his frame when he caught sight of who it was. "Hey…you okay?" The teen managed to grit out. 'Because I sure as hell am not.'

"Kurosaki." There was a flicker of relief behind metal-rimmed frames that was quickly asked by annoyance. "I think that question would better be directed at yourself." Reaffixing the sliding pair of lenses he continued on, "Seeing as I'm not the one in the crater right now."

"Ishida!" It was at that moment that Chad had finally managed to make it to the scene. As his attention flickered from the Quincy to a vaguely irritated-looking Ichigo then to the surrounding destruction he came to a conclusion of some sort and finally let his gaze come to rest on the fallen substitute shinigami. He took a step forward and asked, "What happened?"

With some difficulty Ichigo managed to push himself into a semiseated position. He looked up at the two perched upon the lip of the impact site with a pensive scowl. "I'm… not entirely sure." He admitted honestly, a hand raked through disheveled locks as he thought.

"It looked like you exploded."

"Yeah? That's a bit what it felt like too." The whole peculiarity pf the incident had left him with a bitter taste in his mouth (although that might've just been blood.) "It was weird. I was just doing as I normally do when out of nowhere my power just sort of… skyrocketed. Next thing I know that hollow is on death's door and my ass is being sent flying halfway across the city."

They were all silent for a pause, each lost to their own thoughts until Ishida decided to break it. "We should head on back, perhaps that shopkeeper can shed some light on things."

The black-clad teen snorted, "If you somehow think you can get him to drop that cryptic bullshit for two seconds then by all means go for it." He slowly began to pull himself up, grunting quietly from the effort.

"Do you need some help?" Chad -ever the reliable friend- offered.

"No, no. I got it." He waved him off and slowly managed to heave himself upright with Zangetsu acting as a sort of makeshift crutch. He successfully made it a step-and-a-half forward before his legs decided to give out on him and he crumpled. "Um maybe I don't have it…"

Ishida's brow hiked up slightly, "Oh really? I honestly couldn't tell." He drawled, earning a glower from the other teen. The bespectacled youth chuckled slightly as he bent down and carefully perched himself on the rim of the crater, his hand extended out towards his sometime friend/rival. Grumbling under his breath, the boy clasped onto the proffered limb with a firm embrace. And then it happened…

One moment everything was fine and the next second, right as Ichigo's made contact, the other's sleeve seemed to just disintegrate. A startled yelp escaped the Quincy as he jerked the limb from the other's grasp, the sudden loss of support sending the teen back down flat on his ass. He stared in a sort of horrified bewilderment as the other clutched at the pained limb and from where he was sitting Ichigo thought he could spot a welt of red stand stark out against pale skin. Appearing almost as if it had been seared there. His gaze flickered down to his bandaged hand, watching as the appendage trembled slightly when he made a fist.

What in the actual fuck?

Pain momentarily shunted to the back of his mind, he scrambled up the pile of rubble, taking care to maneuver around the duo as he hefted himself up and over the ledge. Wordlessly he met their troubled flickers with an uneasy gleam of his own. The same unspoken question passed between them: just what the hell was going on? Thankfully they were spared the issue of dwelling on it for too long when a distinctly familiar presence decided to make itself known. "Oh my, you boys sure know how to make a mess." The clack-clack of wooden sandals slapping against concrete came to as stop as their owner cast an impassive eye at the trio, namely a certain swordsman. "Well I suppose it's a good thing that my ability to conveniently appear at just the right moment is as impeccable as always. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Urahara-san, as much as we would love to stand around and discuss your frankly stalker-like tendencies don't you think there are slightly more pressing matters to attend to?"

The man's attention flickered briefly to the injured Quincy before shifting back to Ichigo. "Yes, I suppose so. Exposition time it is then." He affected an almost put upon sigh before sobering so fast it could've given a person whiplash. Leaning forward with his cane as a support he began, "I'm certain you can recall the actions of young Kurosaki-san of a few months prior. How in a desperate last ditch effort he employed the use of his final single most powerful technique in order to stop Aizen and ultimately save out collective asses, in spite of the supposed cost brought about by doing such a thing."

"Except that didn't happen." Ichigo said slowly, "The cost that is."

"Precisely. Which is in where lies the problem." The man's steel eyes glinted slightly, "With the use of that technique you should have immediately undergone the process of losing your spiritual pressure -and with it your powers- the moment you released the attack. But you didn't. Somehow the process was… circumvented -for lack of a better term- allowing for you to pursuit a third option and keep both your abilities and your spiritual energies, albeit in a slightly diminished state. Naturally, phenomena such as this bore further examination and I have to say," He pushed his hat back allowing for a better view, "The results were rather interesting and, sadly to say, inconclusive."

"These results wouldn't happen to involve things like, say, random power spikes and straight up disintegrating shit would they?" The brown-eyed teen asked lowly.

The blond nodded, "From what I have been able to gather I'd say its a bit something like this: imagine if you will, a system of pipes and valves. Normally you'd twist on the tap and water would flow through them with no trouble right? Now picture that those valves, for whatever reason, up and decided that they simply don't want to work properly anymore. What happens when suddenly there's all this extra water and nowhere for it to go? It begins to back up and flood the system, naturally."

He almost didn't want to ask but he needed to know, "And… what happens when the system is completely flooded?"

"Over time the pressure produced would escalate to a level far beyond that which is in any way safe and eventually the backlash would destroy the system entirely-" The blond's gaze traveled significantly to Ishida who continued to clutch at his wounded arm, "- along with everything else within a fourteen kilometer radius." The teen felt his blood become ice. "Oh." A bead of sweat dripped from his brow, "That's…not good." Was all that he managed to get out.

It was a bit before anyone could figure out just how exactly they were supposed to respond to that little proclamation when Ishida -ever the pragmatist- asked, "Is there any way to fix it and make it so that doesn't happen?"

For a brief second he dared hope but when the man simply shook his head his heart sunk, "While I do have some theories that could potentially bear merit, I'm rather reluctant to implement them, at least not until I can manage to extrapolate the underlying cause of all this."

As the incredulous disbelief, which had been progressively mounting throughout the duration of the the conversation, finally deigned itself to drag the teen into its murky depths a thought occurred to him and much like a lifeline he clutched onto it. "What about my body?" Could he even return to it in this state?

The man hummed thoughtfully, "You probably could try to go back to it, but unless you want first-hand knowledge on what its like to inhabit a body that's in the process of slowly being torn apart from the inside by its own spiritual pressure, then I'd advise against it."

'Well that answers that.' The teen grimaced, it was not a pretty picture and in all honesty he kind of felt like he was going to be sick. Having your own abilities suddenly decide you would look better slammed into the concrete and then being told that you were essentially a ticking time bomb that could potentially level half the damn city simply by existing would do that to a person he supposed. "Ichigo." He twitched. Raising up to meet the gentle giant's silent concern, they locked eyes for a moment before he looked away, unable to answer the question held within. Was he okay? Good question.

"I-" He swallowed thickly, noticing how his hands tightened around Zangetsu's grip. Only then he realized he had neglected to sheath the blade and immediately set about rectifying this. He hoped the others were unable to see the way his hands shook as he did.

(They probably could.)

He… He needed some space. To be alone so he could just think and attempt to process whatever the fuck was happening right now with his body, with him. And this is pretty much what he told the others. (And if he was alone then at least he wouldn't take anyone with him.)

Urahara met this with a nod of understanding, hands drifting to his pockets. "I have something for you," He dug through them, pulling out a stick of gum and a rubber duck to which he quickly dismissed and tossed away. "It's only a prototype at the moment-" An innocuous looking green stone of indeterminate construction (it almost seemed to contain an unearthly glow) quickly joined the pile, "-but-" followed by a traffic cone and a stop sign (How did that even fit…?), "-if it works…" then a ball of multicoloured rubber bands and a roll of bandages (which were spared a moment's glance then lobbed over to a thankful Chad), "-it should be able to open up a portal to Hueco Mundo for you to go through," And, finally, out slipped the palm-sized device. "You know, if you, well…"

He trailed off, finger hovering above the sole button on the device for a second before he pressed down. "The portal will only be able to stay open for about a minute on this end but that should be long enough for you to make it through if you hurry."

Ichigo nodded and shifted so now that his friends were the ones in sight instead. He opened his mouth to say something but got cut off before the words had ever reached his tongue. "Go." The tallest of the trio said, "We'll take care of things here." He made certain that they could see the thanks in his eyes before he turned away. Taking a fortifying breath the substitute shinigami stared straight ahead. Only a minute huh? He could handle that.

"Ah well I suppose I should be getting back to the shop. Come along now Sado-kun, Ishida-san."

A beat, then two, and then suddenly he was standing before the static-filled void between worlds.

"Urahara-san aren't you forgetting something?"

He took a step. "Huh? Oh right! Wouldn't want to litter would we? Now let's see, there's this and oh wow! Forgot I had that and… huh? Could've sworn there were two…"

The last vestiges of conversation drifted from awareness with a crack as the mouth of the portal came down behind him and he let out the breath he hadn't known he had been holding. Mechanically, he started forward, legs automatically propelling him towards that land of eternal night. Maybe on the way there he could think of some way that he might just be able to pull his sorry ass out of the proverbial fire this time, and maybe, just maybe there would be no one around to hear his frustrated scream.

------------------------------------[ - XIV - ]--------------------------------

The rhythmic patter of footfalls and unsteady breaths trailed along as he ran. The solitary sounds in stark juxtaposition with the oppressive nothingness was what had finally allowed for the shock to break and everything else settle in. How long had it been now? It was as if he had been on a treadmill, running endlessly yet never getting anywhere. But surely that couldn't be so, he must've made some progress right?

… Right?

He wondered if they managed to make it back to the shop yet. (He tried not to remember deep red in the shape of a hand -his hand- to not picture white-and-silver-and-blue wracked in pain -that he had caused- or recall warm brown, kind yet tinted with a solemn silence and it was his own fault goddamn it-) He hoped they had. In his distraction the walkway he stood upon began to slip back into the ether and caused the teen to pitch forward a bit until he managed to right himself and continue on. It was just a bit before thoughts once more began to drift.

His family…

A niggling feeling of guilt wormed its way up his chest and settled heavily in his throat. He had promised to watch his sisters since their father was out of town for the weekend but now how was he supposed to do that if he couldn't even get near them (or anyone else for that matter?) What if they weren't able to fix things and he'd never be able to see any of them again? Something cold slithered down and joined its fellow in the depths of his heart. He wondered if anyone had went ahead and even bothered to tell them anything. 'Oh god they haven't had they?'

(With a dawning horror he imagined the two girls waiting for him to come home as they always did only to come to learn that their older brother just simply wouldn't be coming back this time and probably never would again. Yuzu would be devastated which would set Karin off because nobody gets away with upsetting her twin like that and then she would try to hunt him down so she could kick his ass and he'd completely deserve it too because what kind of brother does that to his sisters? But it'd all be in vain because he'd be dead and-) He tripped and caught himself once again.

"…" This was taking a very long time. Surely he should've made it somewhere by now shouldn't he? Did he manage to get himself lost on top of everything else? Had Urahara's sketchy invention been a dud? He did say it was a prototype. (Or maybe it was never meant to take him anywhere in the first place and the bastard had left him to die like-)

He shook his head. Well wouldn't that be just perfect, being forced to spend the rest of eternity trapped in the void until either his power tipped past critical and took him with it or he went irrevocably insane from the the fact that he just couldn't seem to find the damned exit- oh.

As if summoned, a bright light slipped onto his visual radar and seemed to grow nearer with every passing second. He quickly stomped on the breaks and screeched to a stop just before it, having came this close to missing the mark completely. Taking a step back, the teen carefully peered out into the distance at the sea of sand below. Very distant. Man he was high up. "Hn a fall like that would've- oof!"

Something slammed into his back, knocking him off-kilter and sending him flailing through the open portal. Suddenly he was falling and those 'distant sands' didn't look quite so distant anymore.

Ichigo screamed. -------------------------------------[ - XV - ]------------------------------- … A****. … Wh. .re … ..ing? …? Yo. ..n't .. ..mfor…le ..ke .h.. .. .et up. (…Nngh.) Co.. .. .ow ..u .ren't ..ving up on m. .r. y..? (W-Who?) Do… yo. re…ber? (I don't…?) Sta.. .n .our ow. ..o .eet Al***, kee. m…ng for..rd wit..ut hesi..ti.n. Eve. .f .ts jus. one st.. at a t..e, walk. .ow enoug. lyi.. aro..d. Get up. (What?) Get up All- --------------------------------[ - XIV - ]------------------------------------ He inhaled sharply and was instantly rewarded with a mouth full of sand. Sputtering, he noted how this was starting to become a pattern. One that seriously needed to stop. He shifted around to lay sprawled out on his back, eyes clamped shut as his breathing evened out. Ichigo took a moment to just stay like that. God, everything hurt. With head turned a bit to the side he finally decided to open his eyes…only to find a face a breath away from his own. He swore.

"Well that's one way to wake up." The figure remarked dryly. Ichigo's mouth opened slightly before he paused then slowly let it fall shut. Brown eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he took in the figure that stood before him only to widen again when he drew back in confusion. '…Tensa?' He blinked. No, that… didn't make any sense. For a number of reasons, actually.

The first of which being the fact that -if his surroundings were any indication- he was not currently within his inner world at the moment.

(That is to say, if the place hadn't up and decided one day that it wanted to look exactly like the Hueco Mundo for no other reason than to simply make him confused.) Sure, there was the possibility that the spirit had decided to manifest into the physical realm for whatever reason but that just gave rise to even more questions. Like why was he even in that form to begin with? The last time he checked he hadn't entered bankai or anything like that so there was really no reason for him to be that way. Unless… whatever was going on was affecting his zanpakuto too? Hn actually… now that he looked closer there was a slight difference or two between the being before him and the spirit of memory. (But still the resemblance was uncanny.)

… And the guy was staring at him. Had he zoned out?

"You okay? You didn't hit your head there did you?" An eyebrow hiked up slightly but the expression was otherwise impassive. Yep, he had. But that was besides the point. The awkward silence stretched between them for a bit longer until the other finally asked, "You just going to keep sitting there?"

"Um…" He replied smartly.

Not-Tensa rolled his eyes and huffed. Hand extended, he proffered it for the other to grasp. When he made no move to do so he leaned forward"

"Ah don't-" -and firmly clasped it in his own. …What?

He hefted the balking teen up with ease, lips curved into a bland smirk as if he hadn't done something that which by all rights should've been impossible. Ichigo was certain he was gaping at the moment but seriously what the actual hell man? The way the other's eyebrow raised, as if to say 'what of it?' certainly wasn't helping matters any. Just who was this guy?!

Apparently either completely oblivious or someone who simply did not give a fuck to any kind of social convention if the way he now dragged him along was anything to go by. "H-Hold on a second! What the hell?! Let go!" Ichigo finally had the good sense to start struggling against the other's grasp but alas was unable to break free. Damn, the guy's grip was like iron. "Where are you dragging me?" That was definitely not a note of panic in his voice, nosiree. But the other merely ignored him as he hummed under his breath. The fingers of his free hand tapping rhythmically against his pants leg, as if they were sketching out a melody that only he were privy to. (He wondered briefly what that strange melody would sound like if it were played across the set of a fine ivory keyboard before he shook his head. Now wasn't the time for such things.) Abruptly the humming cut off. Then-

"What the hell is that?!" A doorway of ethereal white had flickered into view amongst the desert sands. The man's grip tightened as if sensing his suddenly renewed desire to abscond the fuck out of there and slowly began to drag him toward the light. It was at this point the teen began to struggle in earnest. Because okay, yeah, no. There was no way in hell he was going to let himself be placidly dragged along into whatever-the-fuck that was, weird zanpakuto doppelganger notwithstanding!

"Hey! I'm not-" A sharp tug had him nearly biting his tongue as he stumbled forward. Just barely able to catch himself in time and avoid a nasty spill he shot the man's back a dirty glare that sadly served to do little to help his predicament. He wasn't quite sure how but he thought he could feel the faint amusement bleeding from the man's frame. Asshole. And it was with that the struggling youth disappeared into the doorway of light. -------------------------------[ -XV- ]--------------------------------------- White.

That's all that he could see.

A empty town with white cobbled roads, white stone doors, white window frames, white wooden floors. Down a white hallway that lead to a white room with a white piano across from a white couch next to where he now stood. No matter where he turned there it was, that damned colour -or rather- lack of it. It sent a shiver up his spine. (A flicker of memory crossed his mind of a white moon in a dark sky across endless white sands; of long -short- red -black- hair and brown -black- eyes, crying, crying; of black cloth and white stone and white hands stained red red red- "Ichigo!" "*****!") He blinked. How had he even wound up in this situation again? Oh right, that asshole. He strained against the vice-like grip with a huff. Suddenly the death hold was dropped as his kidnapper made to brush past him. The man padded across to where the instrument lay and promptly claimed its bench as his own. Upon having been seated he turned and gave a gesture for him to do the same. He did, keeping his eyes trained firmly on the other as he slowly shifted Zangetsu from his holster to rest conspicuously upon his lap. The action and its clear intent seemed to evoke a small smile from the other.

"Way you were thrashing I would've expected to be held at knifepoint sooner rather than later."

An utterly flat stare. "It's kind of hard to hold someone at knifepoint when the one with the knife is the one being dragged along through god-knows-where by a weirdo with no concept of personal space boundaries. But something tells me you already knew that." He drawled.

A conceding nod. "But not impossible if one was truly inclined." Not- Tensa added, looking over at the blade with an almost appreciative eye. "Not that it would have done much with your current state being what it is at the moment." Bright eyes gave the teen's hastily bandaged hand a significant look. Ichigo -refusing to rise to the bait snorted. He shifted forward, letting the damaged limb splay against the flat of the blade and met the other's gaze.

"And just who are you to care about a thing like that?" The man smirked.

"Well, truthfully I've held many a title over the years, some being more…creative than others. But I suppose something to best suit the current situation would be…hm yes. You can call me, ****!"

… What?

A bead of sweat dribbled down the young teen's spine as the heavy feeling of something utterly foreign and cold settled down upon him. The man had clearly said something so why couldn't he…? Quickly schooling his features, the teen then asked in as nonchalant of a way as he could manage: "Could you repeat that? I didn't quite catch it the first time."

The other's brow furrowed, a faint glimmer of something flickered through his eyes before it was gone. Ichigo watched as he did as he was asked, observing how the man's lips went slowly through the motions again to say his name and…nothing.

Complete and utter silence.

Even though he should've been able to, even though he could almost taste the sting of syllables on his tongue, he just couldn't make out a sound. The other's expression was inscrutable, a carefully bland mask as he observed but the teen paid it little mind because that thing right there? That's what did it for him. More than the other's inexplicable resistance to whatever weirdness that was going on with him, more than the strange portals to stranger bleached ghost towns and their unnerving (familiar) emptiness, it was that: the silence where it should not have been. That was what scared him.

"Well, this is a problem." The man sighed, "Although not much of a surprising one." And then in an undertone, "You always did like to make things unnecessarily difficult."

That last little bit drew the teen up short, successfully dragging him out of the beginnings of a downward spiral that he nearly found himself in. At least for the moment anyway. "You make it sound like we're already well acquainted." 'And I know I've never seen you before in my life.' He thought to himself. 'So there's no way.' Right?

"In a way, yes." Before Ichigo could ask what the hell that meant the man suddenly sat back and slapped his hands together, startling the boy. "I have an idea! Why don't we play a round of twenty questions?"

Okay, what?

The confusion must've been apparent because he went on to explain, "Understandable that you would have questions about any number of things. Things that I may or may not hold the answers to, so what better way to solve this little dilemma than with a bit of back and forth hm?"

"Okay first off: I'm…pretty sure that's not how 'twenty questions' works-"

"Semantics."

"-and second, something tells me that you'd be getting a lot more out of this deal than I would." And I'm not quite sure how I feel about that to be honest.

It was brief but he caught the faint flicker of something in the man's eyes before it was gone with an apathetic shrug, "Fair enough. But honestly, what have you really got to lose at this point? I mean with your condition…" The other trailed off with a significant look and that made his hackles rise.

'Oh I can think of a few things.' He thought, having to bite back the retort. His hand twitched faintly at his side. While it was true that he could perhaps get some of his many questions answered such as: 'How was it that you were able to grab me without a thought while my friends couldn't so much as touch me without getting hurt?' or 'What exactly are you because I know for a damn fact that there's no way you could be a normal human being or even a spirit for that matter with that creepy vibe you're giving off right now,' and his personal favourite: 'Why the hell can't I hear your name?' but was it worth it?

Some nagging feeling in the back of his mind whispered no; that giving this zanpakuto lookalike could potentially do more harm than good. This was further exasperated by the sensation that he felt emanating off of the man, something not too dissimilar from the one that he received from that damned shopkeeper. And if there was one thing that he had learned for certain it was to always be on your guard whenever that mad scientist was involved. But, that being said…

"Alright." He shifted forward with an acquiescing tick of the head, "Let's see what you got."

The man visibly brightened, "Knew you'd come around eventually. So why don't I start us off with something nice and easy like… oh, how about your name?"

('My name? Oh, why it's-')

…? The teen shifted slightly, settling back into the stiff fabric of the cushions. An orange brow hiked up just a bit. "Shouldn't you know already?"

"Of course, but it'd be rather rude not to allow you the chance to introduce yourself don't you think? After all it is usually the first introduction upon which one usually draws their opinion of another is it not?"

"I guess?"

"…" A blank smile. Slender digits traveled along the flat of the knife, an arrhythmic beat tapped along in their wake. "…" "… Well?" "Well what?" "Aren't you?" "Aren't I what ?" "Going to introduce yourself?" The other stated plainly, as if pointing out the obvious.

'Seeing as there isn't much of a damn point why would I?' He thought with a sort of blank incredulity because surely the man had to have been fucking with him, but no, from the expectant gaze trained upon him he realized that the guy was dead serious. Weird. He vented out a huff and proceeded to -in the single most sarcastic and utterly done voice that he could muster- say, "Hello I'm-"

('-A***n ***k*r-') "-Kurosaki Ichigo and I'm-" ('-an Exorcist-') "-a Substitute Shinigami. I think its been a real pleasure to have been able to hang out in this creepy colourless ghost town with only my zanpakuto's weird doppelganger for company, how about you?" "…Somehow I doubt all that." Said doppelganger deadpanned. "And what do you mean weird?" He added as an afterthought. Blatantly ignoring this the teen plowed on, "My turn, so where are we anyway?"

The man ceased his muttering and turned to look at the boy, "Just for the sake of clarification: do you mean in general or-" a gloved hand waved vaguely at the space around them, "-the room we're currently in, or perhaps even-"

"Just answer the damn question!" Ichigo barked, his patience finally having snapped.

The man seemed to blink and give him another one of those curious stares before finally something shifted and his eyes lost that playful glow. It was a subtle change but a definitive one, having the teen subconsciously sitting up a touch with a slight frown as the sobered air settled upon them. A brief irrational thought had him wonder if, just perhaps, he might have said the wrong thing but he pressed on. After all, he deserved at least that didn't he? Besides, he had seen all kinds of weirdness so whatever the man threw at him couldn't be that bad compared to some of the other things he'd witnessed. Probably.

The other leaned forward, carefully pressing the fingertips of his gloved hands together, "Tell me boy, are you familiar with the story of Noah?" "'Noah?'" He questioned, tasting the syllables as they rolled across his tongue. "Vaguely." Was the orange-headed teen's answer, tone contemplative as he flicked through old conversations in his mind's eye. "It's a story from the bible, isn't it?" Upon the other's look he elaborated, "My friend, Chad, his grandfather was born in Mexico and raised to be Catholic so when Chad was younger the two of them spent a lot of time together at the local church where they would pray and sometimes read from the scripture. Apparently that story used to be one of his favourites. I remember him telling me about it."

Chocolate eyes lifted to meet tarnished gold and he had to blink, had they always been that color? There was something haunting about those eyes that held him. A soul-searing pair with an intense otherworldly quality, not quite unlike another pair that he knew of, albeit, without the inverted scelera and the wild madness he knew that lie underneath. Hopefully anyway.

Shaking off the mental image he continued, "It was about this guy, Noah, right? God was apparently pissed at the world because humans -unsurprisingly- turned out to be a bunch of jerks all except for this one dude. So god then tells the dude to build this giant ship thing and to load up his family and a zoo on it because basically god told him he was gonna go to town on everyone else and didn't want them caught in the crossfire. And so everyone but them died and the world reset or something like that." His brow furrowed a bit as he thought back to remember just what had been said, "Sorry, it's kind of been a while since I heard it." Plus there had been a bit of paraphrasing too but he had gotten the gist of it more or less. And what if I were to say that story, or at the very least an unbastardized version of it, was but all too real?"

He was silent for a moment, "I'd say: all stories have to start somewhere. More often than not it's the craziest ones that have a basis in fact." A pause, "And would it be wrong to assume you had something to do with it?" The following silence was confirmation enough.

"Would you be willing to share then?" As if sensing the stirring of uneasiness he quickly added, "If not everything, then what you can?" He knew first hand what it was like to have things that you wanted to keep to yourself, painful insidious things forcefully locked away so that you never had to see-think-hear of them ever again in the light of day. He understood. But conversely, he also knew the danger of silence.

"In time, perhaps. The past is… complicated. For more reasons than you know." He murmured quietly, appearing for a moment as if weighted down with some great unfathomable burden. And then it was gone, replaced with what was beginning to become a familiar mask. "Back to your previous question, this place-" a gesture to the space around them, "-was once our home, among other things. 'The Ark' we deemed it, home to the clan of Noah. And this very room in which we now sit?" A faint smile flickered into being as he turned back to face the piano, hand running gently over the ivory keys. Shadowed eyes stared into the mid-distance, attention snagged by something that only he could see. "Its center-" Golden irises side-eyed him from where he sat, "-or Heart, if you will."

Ichigo felt his bandaged hand twitch faintly as his own heart decided to stop and skip a beat. This gave him a moment's pause as there was no rhyme nor reason for the action. "Yeah?" He said with a mental shake of the head and attempted to distract himself from the peculiar behaviour, "And what did you do in here?"

"A bit of this and that. Play piano." The man shrugged, "Other stuff."

"This 'other stuff' wouldn't just so happen to deal with anything that might bring about the apocalypse now would it?" He had honestly been half-kidding but when the other didn't respond he felt a minor spike of alarm. Seriously? The teen cleared his -suddenly dry- throat and, as if without any input from himself, the following escaped his lisp, "Just what is the Ark?"

The Noah froze, hand poised above the keys before slowly it retracted and fell limply back to his lap. "It's… The best way to describe it would be 'a world between worlds'; a sort of in-between place with many 'doors' that could lead to anywhere and anything that your mind could think of, and even some it can't." His lips curved into a little half-smirk, "I suppose you could compare it a bit to something like the Dangai with a couple of senkaimon thrown in but better looking and with marginally less things that would try to kill you at the moment."

'Like a doorway…' Chocolate eyes widened, "That white gate thing in the desert." "Mhm." He nodded. "Then…that thing you were humming…the way your fingers kept twitching…" A keen gaze trailed along to the only other thing with them in the everpresent white. 'As if you were playing a song…' "The Key."

Ichigo looked at him, "Key?" "An audi-visual system directory entered into a specific frequency only accessible via the correct pattern being paired with a certain physical device i.e.: a musical instrument for example." "So play the piano open the door." He summarized.

"Basically." The Noah shot him a vaguely amused look, "What? You didn't think this thing here was just for show did you?" "Ah, no." He coloured faintly. Not gonna lie though, he had been kind of wondering what its deal was though. "So, like, can anyone control it if they had the passcode or is there something extra that makes it user-specific or something?"

He quirked a brow, "Why, curious?"

"No." Yes. "I was just wondering if you had to be a pianist or if anything else would do." A small shrug.

"And just what's wrong with the piano?" Was it him or did the guy almost seem…affronted? He returned this with a blank stare and a vague gesture to said instrument, "I can't play for shit. Any instrument really." He thought for a second, "No wait, I can play guitar. Sort of. Chad's been giving me lessons."

The musician matched this with a blank look of his own. "…Right. You know? It's not that hard. C'mere I'll show you." Ichigo almost got up to follow until he remembered his current predicament. "Actually, it'd probably be a better idea for me to just stay over here ya'know?" He absently toyed with the frayed fabric that wrapped around his left wrist. There had been no time to find a proper bandage so he had used a strip of Zangetsu's cloth and he hoped the sword hadn't minded too much, it had been kind of an emergency after all so probably not.

The Noah stared him blankly for a second before a light seemed to click on. "Ah right, I suppose some other time then." Yeah, if he could ever get that random disintegration under wraps then sure. But until then he was better off staying away from important looking things, or anything alive for that matter. He'd probably wind up accidentally burning some poor bastard's skin off when they tried to touch him like what happened to Ishida and…wait.

"Hey, how did you grab me?" Seeing the look of confusion he clarified, "Back in the desert, you dragged me here. How?" Because by all rights he shouldn't have been able to do so. Not-Tensa tilted his head to the side, "You mean how did I escape injury via that ridiculous and unstable mess that you call your spiritual presence? Oh don't look so surprised, it'd literally be impossible not to notice." Gold eyes watched the teen keenly. "I assume you have some clue as to what is going on?" "I know what its doing-"

(a surge of power, the sharp crack of a body hitting pavement, burning flesh and a scream-) "But not why." The Noah finished. "I might have a theory." He pointed to the wrapped fist, "But I'm going to have to see that first." Dark brown eyes turned wary as their owner gave a hard stare, finally -lips taught- he followed with a slow nod. The cloth came off with little trouble, its purpose having been fulfilled and thus reabsorbed back into the spiritual fabric from where it came. This continued on until the very last little bit peeled off to reveal- "What the actual fuck?"

Bizarre. That was the only way to describe it. That long messy cut he had received what felt like a lifetime ago back at the shop had sealed over with this strange thing. He could see small flecks of it scattered around the back of his hand, sinking into the tan flesh, corrupting it . Hesitantly he felt along the edge, taking in the smooth almost glasslike quality and ethereal sheen. It felt warm, almost- (Innocent) A set of gloves gently took his hand. He started. "Its just as I thought."

Ichigo tore his eyes away to gape at the Noah. "What?" "That-" A nod to the hand, "-right there is the reason for all your problems." He shot the hand a look as though it had personally offended him somehow. "The sporadic power swells and blockages, mood swings, hell even the fact that you've still been able to galavant about as a patron of souls in the first place. Its all because of this." He gave the stone a tap, eliciting a shiver. The teen was torn between asking how he knew this and telling the man to back the hell off because he was too close but was cut off when he began to speak again, "You've probably been subconsciously syncing with it for weeks and all it needed was a single opening and bam you're an Accommodator."

"Okay." He carefully pulled his hand out of the other's grip, "So what am I supposed to do about that?" He sat back on his haunches and appeared to think it over for a bit before pulling a face, "Well there's nothing for it." He sighed, scratching the back of his head with a gloved hand. "Unless you want to spend the rest of your short existance in isolation -haunted by the weight of your failures as you begin your slow but assured descent into madness and subsequent self-destruction- you have to synchronize with it." The resigned way he said it, as if he were being put upon by something truly bothersome, made the teen twitch just a bit.

"So saying I do this thing, what happens?" "Well, it should allow for things to reach a stable equilibrium…" "But?" He prompted. "I'm not going to lie to you, once you choose to do something like this there isn't any going back. Because if you successfully manage to come out of this there's a strong possibility that things are going to be…different. You're going to be different. Different in ways that not even I could foresee."

"I see." He shut his eyes for a moment. The faces of his family and friends flashed though his mind in an instant. Silently he clenched his fist. 'No going back huh?' His focus shifted to the blade sitting on his lap and he remembered the spirit's words. To hesitate and he would be stuck here, trapped at a crossroads until time claimed him. To go back was a death sentence for certain. So that only left one thing, to move on and keep walking forward. He opened his eyes and met the golden gaze head on with a level stare. "What do I have to do?"

"Just try to focus on your left hand. Now, do you feel the swirling energies there in the center trying to mix and incorporate with your own?" "…Yeah?" "Let it. Don't try to fight it. Accept it." It hurt. A gloved hand reached up to cup the pained teen's cheek and he opened his eyes (when had they closed?) His hand burned with something fierce wrenching soul-deep and he felt his breath get caught on molten gold and warm skin bleeding into inhuman grey. The Noah shot him a rueful smile. "Then you say the magic words."

Lips moved unbidden with a memory long forgotten, "Innocence: Activate." And the world flashed a dizzying whirl of grey-blue-green-white and then went dark. --------------------------------[ - XIV - ]------------------------------------ "It's time to get up now my little nephew, you've been asleep long enough. Get up Allen. Wake up." --------------------------------[ - XV - ]------------------------------------Waking up somewhere with a head full of memories that one had not had prior to falling unconscious was a hell in of itself and suffice to say he currently had the mother of all headaches. If it were not for the fact that he had sworn off alcohol both in this life and the last (and boy wasn't that a thought) he could've sworn this was what a hangover felt like. He bit back a groan. Where was he anyway? The last thing he remembered was the moonlit sands of Hueco Mundo before being dragged upon the Ark by his insufferable arse of an uncle. Who also knew that the Ark's reach appearantly extended into the afterlife and neglected to tell him. He'd have to talk to him about it when he was less annoyed at him of course because the Noah was kind of on his shit list at the moment. Afterall, not only had he somehow managed to disguise himself and convince him that he had been a sword spirit of all things, he had done so all the while binding up the true essence of his powers. Thus allowing for things to escalate so out of hand that he couldn't successfully hold back the flood anymore resulting in their impromptu powwow in the Ark. A perfectly reasonable excuse to be mad at somebody, right? And, okay so he might not've actually remembered him or his penchant for pulling shit like that at the time but now he did and it was the principle of the matter and seriously who the hell does stuff like that?!

"Someone who actually has a sense of self-preservation, unlike yourself."

The youth started. Well 'started' is a bit of an understatement, more like: jerked up and awake with a yelp before getting immediately slammed with a vicious wave of vertigo sending one careening head-over-heels to the floor. He cracked an eye open and stared blearily up at the ceiling. Allen (or was it Ichigo now? Urgh, this was gonna get confusing…) stared blankly at the familiar walls painted black in the pre-dawn hour. His room, he was in his room and that was his bed that he had just fell off of like an idiot. Vaguely he felt the Noah's amusement filter through the back of his mind. The bastard was laughing at him right now.

Muttering a few choice words under his breath, he leveraged himself up and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair with a sigh. Had he woke anyone else with that little spill just now? He froze, taking a second to listen and see if he could hear if either of the girls had stirred. (Sisters! He had sisters!) Hm, seems like they were still asleep. Good, it was still kind of early after all. Satisfied with his assessment he allowed himself a moment to simply not think and just take everything in and confirm that, yes, this was indeed his room that his mortal body was now currently in. How did he even get back here anyway? He had the sneaking suspicion that his uncle had something to do with it. Well there was no sense beating around the bush. "Neah?" He asked catching the other's attention, "Did you do something to me?"

"Now what makes you think that?" He made sure the other could feel the flatness of his look. "You honestly think I would take advantage of your indisposed state to 'borrow' your body for my own personal use? Why Allen I'm almost insulted-" Yes, because you've done it before. Multiple times. "-really, have you no faith my nephew? For shame."

"Neah what did you do ?" The youth asked with a growing sense of alarm.

"Oh, nothing." A nonchalant shrug, "By the way did you know Kisuke's shop has a rather impressive stock of sweets? Some of them I haven't even seen in centuries! Apparently Tessai likes to custom make them in his free time, not something people really take the time to do anymore these days you know?" Whatever alarm he had felt had multiplied tenfold as the other blithely went on. "Oh he left you a note by the way."

"What?" "On the back of your hand -no not that one the other one- yes your right." He flipped the limb over and blinked at the messy scrawl in what looked to be (and knowing the blond probably was) permanent marker pen. From there he began to read: "'Ichigo (or whatever relevant name you may now go by), after you left for your understandable and completely justifiable alone time it was brought to a general concensus that I, being the bright and incredibly humble shopkeep that I am-" He had to snort at this, "- would be the one to help find a solution for your little problem. (It should also be said that your friends can put up quite the convincing argument expessially when aided by Inoue-san's intriguing and -dare I say it- somewhat terrifying imagination.) And I was all set up to do so until -imagine my surprise- I found that the problem had up and resolved itself! Naturally my curiosity was piqued and it was only with the apperance of a certain somebody that the questions I had were oh so graciously answered. He was even willing to indulge the curious scientist in me for a bit!-'"

"What?!" The teen hissed, stopping himself for a second as narrowed eyes stared down at the scribbled text. The Noah of course offered no explanation and he sighed. Resigning himself to a month's worth of paranoia and check-overs in order to see if the two madmen had done anything else to him.

A mental nudge drew his attention back to the note, "'-So it was upon further examination that we found with the assistance of the substance (of what I'm now informed is to be known as Innocence - fascinating stuff really-) now present in both your physical and spiritual bodies there was created a sort of stabilized equilibrium so that you are no longer in danger of a catastrophic meltdown, congrats! Oh and I'm not mad at you for what happened to my shop and the Innocence samples, the data you provided was more than enough to cover what you owed for the damages.'" He twitched ever so faintly.

"Don't forget the post-script!" 'There's more?' He flipped it over to his palm, "P.S. Tell your uncle I said hi! He's given me such great ideas and that Tessai's always willing to talk over tea again. Oh and enjoy the new hair, it looks quite good on you! Bye-bye~ Kisuke'" He let the hand fall. So he wasn't a ticking time bomb anymore, that was good. But the thought of his uncle and the dubious shopkeep being anywhere remotely near one another caused him to shudder.

"Oh come on, he's not that bad." His uncle chided.

"Yes he is and so are you. You're both horrible, horrible monsters who thrive on chaos and destruction and proceed to drag anyone unlucky enough to be within blast-radius down with you via your own personalized brands of insanity." He intoned flatly, "And what did he mean hair?!"

"Now before I say anything I don't want you to freak out. It was a bit of an unexpected side effect from the transition but don't worry you look fine. And, hey, it's not like you're a stranger to having weird hair." "Neah you are terrible at reassuring people now what happened to my hair?" He attempted to tug at the short strands to no avail. "You might've gone a bit prematurely grey but like I said its not that much of a big deal. It isn't completely white, just… most of it." He was quick to offer.

"My hair's white?" Again? Damn it all, of all the things to carry over. He'd already been through this once with certain people (who shall remain nameless) calling him 'strawberry' he didn't need to be 'beansprout' as well. He groaned softly and flopped back, arm shielding his eyes. At least he hadn't been cursed with a lack of height this go around like a certain snow-headed captain that he knew.

He lifted the arm and stared at it. Tired eyes traced the contours of the reddened flesh as he slowly flexed, watching as the embedded stone glimmered with its own quiet light. A small frown graced his lips. This was quite the fine mess that he had gotten himself in wasn't it?

What was he supposed to now? Sure he could always dye his hair but what of his arm? Long-sleeved shirts and gloves would only work for so long and what of his personality? You can't exactly hide a whole lifetime's worth of memories and experiences forever, not without having those close to you start to worry. And it'd be an icy day in hell before he let something like that happen. So they'd have to come up with something to keep them from freaking out…and then what? Once everything was said and done where did they go from there? What was there for a once-exorcist turned-substitute-shinigami and the Noah that he housed who just so happened to be his past incarnation's adopted uncle? "Well whatever there is we'll just have to persevere through it for better or worse. Besides it isn't as though you haven't had your own fair share of problems before, now have you?"

He had a point. He just had to keep walking huh? The youth's lips curved into a bittersweet smile. Yeah, he could do that.

[bi-writes]

Could you do one of Simon forgetting to bring his lunch and so his wife brings it except she turns up in a cute sundress??

mail-order bride (18+)

"simon...simon riley?" you ask.

the officer raises a brow, looking down at your ID and then back at your face. he frowns a little, scratching the back of his neck.

"he's a lieutenant," you add, biting your lip. "uhm...and he works with...with john."

"john?"

you suck in a shaky breath, biting your lip nervously.

"captain john price?"

the officer just glares at you a little before picking up his radio.

"yes, ma'am. wait here."

he turns his back to you, walking a little ways away, and you hear him speak into the radio lowly.

"...got a civilian here asking for lieutenant riley..."

"...negative, sir..."

"...oh. affirmative, sir. right away."

the officer comes back, giving you your ID back. he looks sheepish now all of the sudden, and he smiles at you, which unnerves you almost.

"u-uh, so sorry ma'am. you can park near the main office, right that way," he points to a building far to the left, "i'll have someone come meet you there to take you inside. again, apologies...we're going to put you on a list, mrs. riley."

you frown a little, shrugging. you're not upset. it's a miltiary base, for christ's sake, and you've never been here; of course they would be apprehensive about letting you in. but the private looks terrified out of his mind, so you just smile a little and make your way towards the parking spot he pointed out.

when you get out of the car, you push the door closed with your hip, picking up the bag in the passenger seat. there's a woman standing by the door, smiling and waving at you. she looks very smart, in a nice pantsuit. you smooth your dress down, smiling back at her, and you swing your purse over your shoulder before making your way to her.

"hello, mrs. riley. the lieutenant's wife, i hear?" she asks. you nod and shake her hand.

"y-yes...he...he said he was just doing administrative stuff today, but he forgot some things so...i just wanted to do something nice--"

"right!" she nods her head towards the door. "i can escort you to his office. uhm...i believe he's debriefing with captain price this afternoon, but i'm sure he can make some time." she winks at you when she says that, and you bite back a shy smile.

she takes a seat at her desk, picking up the phone. she yaps for a few minutes, and you take a seat in an empty chair, smoothing your skirt out. your wearing one of simon's favorites, the cherry-printed mini dress he loves so much, but you realize maybe he might not be the only one. there's a myriad of privates and soldiers that walk past you, and you hear some whistles by some of the bolder ones. you suddenly feel very self conscious, tucking your legs underneath yourself. you're wearing white strapped wedges, your hair styled nicely with a bow to match the dress, but now you feel silly, stupid.

why would you go to a military base dressed like a fucking pin-up girl?

"wot are you doin' 'ere?" a rough voice demands.

mmm. that's why.

you look up from your chair, smiling wide when you see him. simon stands with his arms crossed over his tact vest, tilting his head to the side as he glares at you from under his skull mask. you've never seen him strapped before, though. he's got a gun tucked into his thigh holster.

"h-hi," you pick up the basket next to you, standing up, and when you come close, simon is rough, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you near him with a short growl.

"oi," he snaps, but you just flutter your lashes at his harsh voice, smiling bigger. "can't fuckin' come 'ere lookin' so pretty."

you giggle, and even though you're wearing heels, you still find yourself standing on your toes as you try to get close to him.

"you forgot what i packed for you, simon. how could you forget?" you pout a little. he sighs deeply, smoothing his gloved hand down your back before nodding his head.

"c'mon. can't 'ave ya out here. fuckin' muppets starin' at my wife."

he turns and immediately starts walking. he's entirely too fast, and you skip in your wedges practically to try and keep up with him. when he notices, he slows his pace, and you grip the basket better in your hand before reaching for his with the other.

your hands intertwine, and you look around as you walk, reading the plaques on the wall, the shiny medals, waving at johnny when you see him holding a bag of crisps upside over his open mouth.

when simon shuts the door behind you in a dark office, you set the basket down on the desk, pushing back the kitchen towel fabric.

"okay, so i brought those muffins you like from that little shop. they had blueberry this morning, oh my gosh, simon, they also started putting out these little scones that--oh!" you gasp as he grabs you from the fat of your hips, a big flat palm over the base of your spine as he pushes you flat onto your stomach onto the desk. "simon!"

simon sucks on his teeth as he flips up your skirt, letting out a low whistle as he palms your ass, spreading the fat of it so he peek at the seam of the white lace you're wearing. you lay your palms against the desk and whimper, not used to simon being so rough, so upfront, so bold.

"can't just come here all dressed up, baby," simon grunts, shaking his head. "and not expect me to take wot i need...been surrounded by nothing but wankers all fuckin' day..."

you relax a little, giggling.

"simon," you sigh, your eyes closing as you push your hips back into his hands. "i missed you so much..."

"tha' why y'came down 'ere, luvvie?" he asks, smirking under the mask. "ya missed me? missed y'r husband? what'd ya miss, baby? tell me."

you arch your back a little, bowing it, and you laugh when he gives your ass a firm grab before picking you up and spinning you around, caging you against the desk. you smile up at him, dazed, a little dizzy, and he winks at you, eye-black dark and deadly around those killer brown eyes. he's so big, so hot, and you're suddenly very aware of how big simon looks in all his gear.

"i don't know," you say softly. "it's so cold in bed at night..."

simon snorts, "tha' right? 's cold? the lil' shits don't keep ya warm?"

"our girls like to sleep on your pillow, i think they miss you, too."

"fuckin' lil' bastards," simon chuckles, and you sigh, sliding your hands up his vest and tugging him just a little closer. your spread your knees to let him between them, and he reaches down and grips your thighs, hiking them up around his hips as he sits you onto the edge of the desk. "fuck, you're so fucking pretty..."

you tilt your head back for him.

"i miss eating with you. it's so quiet when you're not around."

"mmm. i bet, luv."

"and i miss you when i'm alone," you whisper. "i miss you when it's just me..."

simon narrow his eyes, "tell me, swee'eart."

you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down towards you. you kiss him over the mask, tasting sand and ash, licking over his lips through the cotton. it's lewd, disgusting, but he groans under the fabric.

"when, simon? when?" you ask, and he hums lowly.

"when? 'ow about right now?"

"no way, you're so gross, simon," you giggle. "our first time is not going to be on a desk in some dingy office where you work--"

you seize when he cups you between the thighs, big gloved hand palming your cunt through your lace panties. you arch your back and gasp, gripping his biceps tight as you lean into his touch.

"don't need t'make it our first time," simon tilts his head to the side. "can still make it real fuckin' nice, baby."

"oh, now you wanna touch me?" you suck in a shaky breath. "just because some of your men wanna look up my skirt?"

"oh, for tha', i'll make ya scream my bloody name, for oll of them ta hear," he growls, and you smile wide up at him.

"guess they need to learn i'm a lieutenant's wife," you giggle, and simon whistles low, tugging your panties to the side, and you whimper when you he prods at your entrance with two big gloved fingers.

"ahhhh..." simon hisses. "ya like tha' title, tha' it, baby? yeah...yeah you like tha'..."

"i like it," you whine, and when he meets your watery eyes, he plunges those big fingers deep, thumbing at your clit. your mouth falls open, your nails digging into his sleeves, and you suddenly wish you had asked him to take you to get your nails done so you could really claw it. "i like it..."

"could make these boys lick the fuckin' ground ya walk on," he mutters, and you whine when a particular rough thrust of his hand squelches between your thighs. "they'd do anythin' to please me, baby...even johnny would chew your bloody food for ya if i asked him to--"

you reach down and grip his wrist, your thighs shaking as you jolt. it feels so good, your entire body is on fire. his fingers are petting a nice little spot inside of you, stroking it as he pumps his hand nice and steady inside of you. his thumb is working you in gooey circles, flicking at your clit and putting taut the little string in your lower belly. your whole brain feels like it's fizzling, your blood rushing, and you stick out your tongue, licking over his masked jaw as you start to feel like you're gonna pass out from the wet slick, slick, slick sounding from your wet cunt.

"simon--simon--" you pant, and he groans, nodding his head.

"so pretty, baby," simon breathes. "so fuckin' tight, gonna 'ave to work ya open before i give ya my cock, lovey..."

"it's so big," you mumble, and simon coos, nodding his head.

"i know, baby, i know, 's big, real big...but you can take it, remember?" he laughs. "you can take it woteva i give you..."

you nod.

"i can take it--i can take it--!"

your vision blurs. there's tears coming down your face, sweat lining your forehead, your back, but you can't wipe the giggly, lazy smile off your face. simon cups the back of your head with his free hand, sitting you up, and when he pulls his fingers out from between your legs, his gloves are stuck to his hand practically, completely soaked through.

"y'r so pretty when y'cum," he murmurs, and you stick out your tongue for him. he gets the message, shoving his mask up just enough, and he bends to kiss you warm and wet.

"well then," you meet his eyes, all languid, all relaxed, a devious little grin on your sweet face. "why don't you give me another then?"

simon grins, all teeth.

"woteva ya want."