#gaining time-lapse

[fatblackfleetboys]

Bro what actually happened I got THCK.🥴🫒🍑🐽🐖

[moondirti]

141 x f! READER. [3k] — AO3 dub/noncon. age gaps. pregnancy. toxic price. implied kidnapping. daddy kink. uncle kink (?). gangbang. lactation. voyeurism. oral (f! receiving). feet stuff.

The captain does not keep his spoils to himself.

He's always been that way, Kyle thinks. Even before he bound them with gossamer strings, webbing his prodigal boys together under a three digit moniker — he'd feed a little bit of his pride into every conversation. Easy to spot in hindsight, the golden broach of morning illuminating spun beginnings, dew dotted on translucent lines. He heard of Johnny before he knew him. Simon, too.

It simply isn’t like him.

But you, on the other hand—

Now he's never heard of you.

And he's sure it isn't a lapse of memory. Kyle would be hard-pressed to forget a conversation of that ilk, or the mental image of his captain with someone so fresh. Skin still downy-feather soft, the whites of your eyes bright and wet, hands unsure as the porcelain bones within them. Nescient of strife, death. The metallic aftertaste of gunpowder, or the way a scar will adopt a gnarled edge. It astounds him for a moment, to think that someone could go their whole life unburdened by these things — but then again, your neck seems accustomed to the possessive curl of Price's fingers. The bullish way he urges you forward, polished feet stumbling over each other to greet the overgrown men at the door.

Fawn-like, he resolves, as you suppress your fear with practised blinks, a grimace breaking your face when Johnny wraps a rough palm around yours, shaking too forcefully to be considered polite, jostling the cleavage barely concealed by a low-cut babydoll dress. It's a combined appraisal of your attire, the late hour, your squinted eyes — still sleep drenched — that tells him you didn't know they were coming.

Funny, seeing as they received the invite a fortnight ago.

(got something t'show you. been meaning to for a while.)

It's more than something, he'd say. Caught off guard, you cling to Price, sticky demurral ensnared by the hair of his forearm, a pace behind while he leads his men to the parlour. The light is low throughout the halls — which, if he were being honest, are cosier than anticipated. It would've been anyone's guess that the captain retreated to a house of concrete during his time off, utilitarian as he is — and Kyle feels as though he's intruding upon a dream. A surreal approximation of reality, where harsher lines blur into curves and calluses are softened like under the run of hot water.

His tongue is heavy when he swallows. Behind him, Johnny whispers something to Simon, who does not reply and has yet to speak.

No reason to. You don't ask for their poison once they're settled. Conditioned, you uncap what he recognises as Price's favourite single malt and pour three fingers worth (your closest measure to two of their own) for everyone. It gains you an appreciative pat from Simon, palm heavy on the back of your leg. A rush of noise in the unsteady silence. Too sudden, he thinks — for you jump and scamper, tucking, shaken, into an armchair's side.

Kyle feels his lungs squeeze when you pass by him, the air cradling a waft of cashmere musk and bluebell. It announces something he'd rather not voice. Something they all must be thinking. A question of pause, hesitancy, in face of the way your perfumed curves dangle blatantly before them. They're strangers to holding back. Nothing's demanded deference before — this quelling of predatory instinct. Johnny's smile gleams, his shark teeth struggling to stay clenched. Simon's eyes dry out the longer he stares, red fissures spelling out want so clearly it makes him reconsider his own.

His drink carves a path through the doubt in his throat. Flitting over to the captain, he watches for a reaction to Simon's transgression.

None comes.

So the man on trial sinks into his seat, exonerated. His mask has since been tucked beneath his chin, lips, more scar tissue than anything, contorting with amusement.

"Y'have to excuse me, lads." Price says, tugging you across the safe distance you've made and into his arms. It's even more startling a sight now, your body pinned to the canvas of his larger one. This Eleusinian contrast; Persephone, pomegranate carnage smeared over her mouth, impelled to spend her days with a force that means death to so many. Kyle wonders just which meadow he managed to pluck you from, what flowers you'd been weaving when it happened.

"Been keepin' this one from you," He walks you forward another step. "was building something... delicate, see. Had to wait until th' timing was right."

"Wuid nae blame ye, Cap." Johnny licks his lips, drying sweaty palms on denim, fingers curling in and out to work through the fervour.

"Jumpy lil thing, i'n't she?" Simon returns. "Would'a made like a rabbit in shock."

"Needed to be broken in first, naturally." Kyle breathes, stomach cramping with the enormity of his desire. His ears ring with a feverish pitch. Every time he blinks, it's a few seconds before his vision comes back to him.

Your nose turns away, lashes stitching together to keep the tears at bay. He can almost feel the mortification spilling hotly off your flesh, pooling, sappy thick, to glue itself wantonly on their boots. In his periphery, Johnny lurches forward, fondling the lace edge of your night dress as if to console you.

"Mm. Still a ways to go, but–" Price cups your wrists in one hand, tightening only to guide them well above your midriff. "now tha' I know she won't run off, she can finally meet her uncles."

And it's that resolve, the flag bearing that has led them to bloodshed countless times, that preludes this next march. All of a sudden, what was off limits is thrust into their reach — on stumbling, wary legs, heels digging grudgingly into the dirt, but still there, for the taking.

(Jowls aching, salivate blooming heavily beneath a writhing tongue. It's like he's been clipped off the dog house. Unleashed. And no matter how hard he tries to find it — desperately, his hindbrain sifting through layers of depravity for the righteous man he once was — he cannot muster much concern for your say in it all.)

"Ye sure aboot that?" Johnny's eyes are as wide as saucers. Having since slipped off his seat, kneeled as he is, he's borderline reverent in this light. Looking above for security, for assent, crux immissa a dull gold between his pecs. Your diaphanous dress grows opaque where his fist curls through it, shivering with every tremble of flesh. It is not your permission he is asking for, of course.

Price nods.

"Take a look yourself, son. Go on." He says, hooking an ankle to keep you rooted in place. The scot lifts the fabric so quick it tears, coming apart in tatters. If he'd been more deliberate with it, Kyle would have taken the time to appreciate the reveal—

The rounded brackets of your thighs. Their fattened inner lines. How your panties barely fit over your hips, folded over so that your mons peaks over the trim. Tufts of pubic hair, not as neatly defined as the rest of your appearance but laying flat, as though they were brushed. Groomed.

They all take a backseat to your stomach.

Swollen, belly button protruding, darker line down the middle. Not nearly full term, but perhaps well into your second trimester, the baby just small enough to be hidden by loose garments. Your lips screw into a pout, wet shame slipping down your cheeks as the heart of their invite comes to light. Kyle wonders, almost angrily, what there is to be ashamed of.

(Nothing. Nothing. Not when the captain beams as he does, crows feet making a brief and rare emergence. If he could, he'd pay ten times your dues to see it up just a moment longer.)

Simon squeezes the bulge in his trousers, jaw ticking with perversion. While adjusting himself, he's honed in on Johnny, who trails open-mouthed kisses up the underside of your belly. You flail a little at the hot press of his tongue, wiggling into Price for salvation that does not come. He holds you still for the ravaging, fingers clamping around your wrists, and Kyle delights in your expression. Slow acquiescence, dawning on the realisation that there is no backing away from this.

"It's been hard so far, but would you look at what's come of it." He hums, nosing your temple until you bend. Behind the coarse thicket of his moustache, his teeth briefly gleam. Then, Kyle watches with rapt fascination as Price latches onto your earlobe. "Giving me what I've always asked for. Now, I needed to reward her somehow."

Simon barks a laugh, the jagged edge of it razing up your legs. "Congratulations." He derides. Your toes curl into the carpeted floor; finding purchase, or comfort, in the plush fibres. Used to being the end of a joke.

Price joins in, too. Just for a brief moment, something warm and all-knowing crackling from his chest, before he turns to Kyle, expectant. "Garrick?"

Only as he clears the fog in his larynx does he realise how quiet he's been throughout this ordeal.

"Congrats."

The captain does not comment on the grit in his tone.

"Isn't tha' nice?" He whispers to you instead, undoing the ribbon keeping your décolletage together. It's a wonder your breasts haven't burst from it already, tender and heavy, visibly relieved once the straps slip off your shoulders. You match their intrigue with equal parts dread, damp lashes downcast, lips a small O — unable to do anything but watch as your tits spill out into the open air.

"Gettin' harder tae forgive ye fur holdin' oot on us." Johnny groans, sitting back on his haunches to admire the view himself. His mohawk skims a nipple in the motions, scouring the flushed tissue, and you squeal. It's just the unseemly match to throw you further off kilter; Johnny's intensity is scalding, an attention so zealous it forces you to regress into prey. If Kyle focuses, he can see the quick-tick pulse drumming in your neck.

"Doesn’ matter no more, does it?" Simon says, patting his lap. "Why don't you c'mere, bird, show us your thanks. Don't tell me daddy didn' train you proper."

The last dregs of scepticism drain from his pores when Price nudges you forward, tumbling over, straight seated onto his lieutenant's lap. With all the composure of a fisherman feeding bait onto a hook, casting it out to the sharks, he finds his seat again as Simon seizes you under his limbs, adding to his drink to watch you be pried apart for the evening.

His paws look huge against your torso, stationed there to haul you by the chest so your back conforms to his front. Scarred knuckles ripple, thick fingers kneading into fat, disfiguring your tits to mirror the ugly skin stretched over his fists. Beyond saving after countless burns and cuts, cursed to a lifetime of spoiling everything he touches, too.

It's intentional, though. Cruel, but subdued. Simon does not use his strength when he catches your nipples between rough forefinger and thumb. Your breasts are already sore, raw and tender with the changes your body's going through. He only exploits that, fondling the swollen masses like toys, shoving his tongue down your mouth when you pitch your complaints. Plucks them, rolling the knotted peaks so that it gets too much by ways of overstimulation.

"I know they 'urt. Yeah, fat fuckin' jugs like these need to be milked, else it gets too much. Poor pet. Daddy's a selfish man, huh? Keepin' you from the attention you need." He huffs, nipping the thin skin over your jugular. If the degradation isn't enough to keep up with — which it is, your little legs kicking to combat the humiliation churning your stomach — Johnny's hunger etches itself plainly upon his face. Pupils the size of the sun, drool slicking the cracks of his chapped lips.

Kyle spoors his interest to the space between your legs.

(A competitive flame lights in him, kindled by the knowledge of what Johnny wants. It sears him out of the voyeuristic stupor he's kept so far. All too suddenly, his teeth ache with the same violent desire, the sight of your pussy trapped behind soaked cotton the only meal he can ever imagine wanting.)

Johnny pounces.

Blinded by his holy grail, he does not dodge your foot when it aims for his head. You — trapped, dazed, in the process of being devoured by their lieutenant — only catch him from the corner of your eye, tongue sucked over your shoulder, eyes incessantly teary. Kyle knows you do not mean to hit him, only to ward him off with your flailing limbs. But your vision is impaired, and your heel makes contact with his chin, anyway.

It's about the worst thing you can do for yourself.

The scot moans, hips bucking into nothing. Like a dog, his impulses easily deflect, new sights set on the foot you so graciously offered him. His mouth unhinges, tongue extending as far as it can to lave over the sole, nipping around its pillowy edge. Your toes, perfectly manicured, attempt to flick him away, sternum caving as you hold back desperate little laughs at the sensation. It draws his attention upward, eyes flitting maniacally to and from your face, lips popping around your innermost toe and assessing the way you react. Sucking it into his mouth when you're not as enthusiastic, one hand cradled around your twisting ankle, the other palming clumsily at his crotch, growing more and more erratic the shorter your breaths get.

Kyle takes his chance. Folds his collar, and unfastens the first few buttons of his dress shirt. No one pays much heed to him — not Simon, whose hands remain fixed on your heaving tits (leakin' like a bloody cow, pet. look'it it, drenchin' my palms); Johnny, seemingly endlessly enthused by your feet; or you, your work cut out between the two of them, back arched, round stomach thrust up. Skin glossy no matter where he looks; heels covered in spit, legs in sweat, tits and stomach in breastmilk.

He faces Price.

The captain has not faded from the foreground. Though he sits, perched in an armchair across the parlour, Kyle still feels him weaving iron filigrees of influence around their every limb. Like he's standing above them, puppeteering — or, rather, making good of the years of practised obedience, their bodies whittled into vessels for his will. The cool pour of it fuels this system, lends them strength to do what they've never trusted themselves to do. It is just as good as his hands groping your chest, his mouth at your feet. His passion they lay onto your poor flesh.

And they are just as good as his, in turn.

His shoulders stretch wider when he turns back to you. His voice a little clearer. "Thanks for the opening, mate." He taunts Johnny, snickering at the defiant twitch of his brow, before sinking to his knees.

The gusset of your panties is near translucent, drenched with arousal. Kyle takes a moment to admire how your pussy twitches, clit pulsing, white cotton slipping over it in concert with every spasming muscle. He can see it all like this — the oil-spill slick webbing your inner thighs, the swollen lips slowly engulfing the fabric on either side, the gentle flutter of your vulva. Pure hunger compels him forward, lips pressing over the sloppy mess, nose crushing into your mons and taking a lung-mangling whiff.

Tangy. Underpinned by a certain earthiness, like molasses but bittersweet. Your scent darts through his cerebral cortex, bridging synapses together until everything is that much clearer. Tunnel visioned, dead set on lapping it until your taste becomes a tangible weight in his stomach. Kyle's cock, already hard and leaking, jumps suddenly against the constricting button of his trousers, balls aching, looking to release the pleasure ballooning in his pelvis.

He nips, pulls your panties away with his teeth, sucking the spoiled cotton into his mouth to make the most of the slick you wasted on it. It isn't nearly enough, not as tart as it would be undiluted by his spit, so he snaps it to the side only moments later to dive face first into your cunt.

And it's a warm welcome. Balmy heat glides over his nose, spilling into his mouth like manna out of heaven. It's a feverish kiss, akin only to the throb of a wound about to fester, heartbeat about to erupt out the surface of your skin. Kyle would be concerned if not for the folds he had to explore, the dip before your insides pulse open for him, the tributaries drawn from your centre. His tongue twists your clit, grinds it under pressure, lifts the hood and targets a point that feels like too much. Your moans grow into whines that grow into sobs, air clotting with a symphony of lewd sounds. Tacky schlicks, slobbering, panting. The clink of ice in Price's glass. Simon's ceaseless insult to injury, degradation a molten river out his mouth.

"Crying, an' we 'aven' started on ya yet. Poor baby. Isn' a slut s'posed to be good a' this? Jus' gonna sit 'ere and wail for yer daddy, all while we do the heavy lifting." From his vantage point, peeking beneath his brows, your tits seem to have grown used to the lieutenant's abuse. A little less swollen, doughy in his big, nasty hands — though what they now lack in ripeness, they make up for in a hundred little bruises, already purpling. Dark and vibrant, the milk still trickling from your puffy areolas borderline pearlescent in contrast. "Look'it them."

He grabs your cheeks, forcing you to peer down at the men stationed below. Kyle, though occupied, does his best to smile. He feels Johnny puff up behind him — when he worked his way up your leg, he doesn't know.

"Nnnghhh."

"Say it." His nose crooks where he thrusts it against your temple, lip curling cruelly over your ear. A vein splits the planes of his jaw, arm bulging to reach up for your neck. Your face turns a shade darker, mouth puckering the deeper his tongue thrusts up your pussy. The words lodge in your throat, teeth chattering uselessly around unshaped air. Johnny hovers behind him. Price burns approving holes onto his back.

He doesn't expect it to happen as it does.

Your ass tenses, suddenly firm, lifting you off of Simon's lap. Kyle's hands smooth up his erection, his fingers digging into the plush crests of your pussy. Spreads them apart to be able to drive his maw further in, searching for just the right spot inside you.

But in the end, what does it is the accidental graze of his incisors over your clit. You burst, floodgates dissolving straight into his mouth — soaking the entire lower half of his face, the buttons he undid serving no other purpose than having exposed his chest to your mess, matting the dusting of hair over his pecs.

You don't look at any of them as you come down. Instead, your eyes prune shut, crusted in tears yet still snivelling wretchedly, trying to sniff and take back all that unfolded. Something buried in his heart twinges; resonant but stifled under layers of arousal. His cock spits pre-spend over his boxers, too heavy now to stand upright.

Simon does not take pity on you, flicking an oversensitive nipple.

"Still waiting." He says.

Your voice is barely legible. Raspy and whistle-toned. It occurs to him, as you sit there and muster enough energy to voice what's expected of you, that Kyle has yet to hear you speak.

"Thank you."

"Na fair." Johnny huffs against your cunt, eyes rolled to the back of his head, scleras foggy with desire. He's since shouldered his way beside him — the two sergeants sat between your spread legs —hopelessly chasing the climax Kyle managed to syphon out of you, mouth opened just in case you squirt again.

"You won't get very far with that, mate." His ego feels imperishable, amassing like a star before death. It cramps his ribs, makes him feel like nothing will ever amount to the way it crowds his chest. A smug smile stitching his lips. They both know that the half-dazed efforts won't amount to much. "Jus' focus on what you're good at, yeah?"

Not ones’ for subtly with each other, he guides Johnny hand to wrap around his width. The scot perks up, looking at Kyle's hard-on, then you, then his hard-on, then you.

"Dinnae want tae save your energy for the lass?"

But Simon's already unleashed his own cock — ruddy, angry, monstrous — lining it up to your exhausted hole. The head alone spans the space between your thighs, and judging by the panicked look wringing your little face, he shrugs.

"Think it'll be a while before he stretches her out."

[goldfades]

★ PROTECTIVE ─── PB⁵

❪ requested -> "i love your writing sm!!! could you maybe write a paige x reader where reader is on the team and it’s an intense game and reader gets accidentally hit in the face and her nose starts bleeding. it’s not even bad but paige is all livid at whichever player that did it and she’s helping reader clean up all the blood and stuff?" ❫

─ pairing | paige bueckers x fem!reader

─ warnings | protective paige, mentions of nose-bleeds and discomfort, pretty fluffy

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THE GAME had been intense from the get-go, both teams playing aggressive and physical defense.

The stands echoed with the roar of the crowd, but everyone remained focused, their eyes locked on the ball. With each possession, the tension mounted, and the stakes grew higher. The scoreboard flickered with each point scored, but neither team could gain a significant lead.

As the game progressed, the players' determination became palpable. They dove for loose balls, contested every shot, and fought for rebounds with unwavering resolve. The crowd was on their feet, swept up in the game.

You were focused, keeping your eyes on the player you'd been been guarding this entire game. She was quick, agile, and had a deadly accurate shot. You knew that any lapse in concentration could result in her slipping past you and scoring points for her team.

You mirrored her every move, anticipating her cuts and drives to the basket. Each time she attempted to break away, you were there, shadowing her with relentless tenacity. The sweat beaded on your forehead, your muscles burning with exertion, but you refused to let up.

With each possession, the intensity between you two grew. She drove to the basket with determination, but you were there, contesting every layup, refusing to give an inch. When she pulled up for a jump shot, your hand was in her face, disrupting her rhythm, forcing a miss.

But she was relentless, constantly searching for openings, probing your defense for weaknesses. You matched her step for step, refusing to let her gain the upper hand. That was your style ─ completely and utterly focused and determined.

Paige finally got subbed back in and she jogged back to the court. You felt Paige's hand pat your back enthusiastically as she passed you, but your focus was completely on the game. With each passing moment, the stakes seemed to rise, the intensity escalating with every possession.

Then, in a split second, everything changed. As you maintained your defensive stance, focused on your opponent's movements, she made a sudden pivot, her elbow catching me squarely in the nose. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain through your head, and you stumbled backward, momentarily stunned.

You stumbled back into Aaliyah, who quickly steadied you as the opponent began apologizing. Grateful for her steadying presence, you blink away the stars dancing in your vision and attempt to focus through the throbbing pain in your nose.

The opponent's voice, filled with genuine remorse, pierces through the haze of discomfort. "Oh shit, I'm sorry," she exclaims, her tone laced with concern. "I didn't mean to—"

Before you could answer, you heard another voice do it for you. "Didn't mean to, my ass," Paige's tense voice echoed as she examined your nose. "Watch where you're going next time,"

Despite the pain, a flicker of amusement danced in your mind at Paige's blunt response. It was typical of her to defend you fiercely, even in the midst of a game.

Gently pushing aside Paige's concern, you offered a reassuring smile to both her and your opponent. "It's okay," you said, your voice strained but calm.

However, before you could continue Geno subbed you out quickly. He wanted to make sure you didn't have a concussion or any other serious injury. As you made your way to the bench, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins, you could feel the concerned eyes of your teammates on you.

"Take a seat," Geno instructed, his voice worried. The team medic quickly approached, shining a light in your eyes and asking a series of questions to assess your condition. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," you replied, the throbbing in your nose subsiding slightly.

He nodded, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress. "We need to make sure you're okay. Take a moment to rest and get checked out."

You answered the medic's questions, reassuring them as best you could that you felt fine, despite the throbbing in your nose and the lingering dizziness. Your heart ached to be back on the court, contributing to your team's effort, but you knew Geno was right to be cautious.

As soon as the halftime buzzer went off, Paige was jogging toward you. She took the medic's place and began assessing you herself, her concern evident in her furrowed brow and the tightness of her jaw.

"How bad is it?" Paige asked, her voice low but filled with worry.

"It's not too bad," you replied, mustering a reassuring smile despite the throbbing in your nose. "I'm fine,"

Paige's brow furrowed with worry, but she maintained her composed demeanor. "Let me take a look," she said, gently tilting your head to get a better view of your nose.

After a thorough inspection, Paige nodded to herself, her expression softening slightly. "Doesn't look too bad," she assessed, her tone more reassuring now.

Just as she stopped speaking, your nose began to bleed slightly, a trickle of blood escaping and staining the ice pack pressed against it. Paige quickly reached for a towel, dabbing away the blood with practiced ease.

She kept the towel pressed against your nose as she watched at you, her gaze concerned. The medic approached, ready to assist, but Paige intercepted her. "I got it," she said firmly, taking the tissues from the medic's hand.

With a nod, the medic stepped back, trusting Paige to take care of you. Paige then turned her attention back to you, her focus unwavering as she continued to apply gentle pressure to your nose.

You couldn't help but smile in amusement at Paige's seriousness, a stark contrast from her usual playful demeanor off the court. As Paige continued to staunch the bleeding, her expression softened slightly, a flicker of concern in her eyes. You could tell she was worried about you, her usual lightheartedness replaced by a focused resolve to see you through this.

As the bleeding finally began to subside, Paige inspected your nose once more, her expression more relaxed now. "There we go," she said softly, offering you a reassuring smile. "All cleaned up."

You nodded, grateful for her care, and took the tissue, dabbing at your nose to ensure it was dry. "Thanks, P."

Geno called for a team huddle before halftime to an end, and you and Paige joined your teammates at center court. Despite the discomfort in your nose, you stood tall, ready to listen to Geno's pep talk.

"Alright, listen up," Geno began, his voice loud. "We've had a tough first half, but we're still in this game. We need to stay disciplined on defense and execute on offense. Remember, every possession counts."

Paige stood beside you, her presence a comforting reassurance as Geno's words washed over the team. Her hand found yours, squeezing it tightly as she listened to Geno.

"Y/N, you good to go back in?" Geno asked, his gaze focused on you.

You met Geno's gaze with determination, nodding firmly. "Yes, coach, I'm ready," you affirmed, the throbbing in your nose now a distant discomfort compared to the excitement burning in your chest.

With a nod of approval, Geno's expression softened slightly. "Alright then, let's finish this half strong," he declared, rallying the team for the game ahead.

With renewed determination, you and your teammates broke the huddle and made your way back onto the court. As the second half began, you took your position, ready to give it your all for your team.

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[lo1k-diamonds]

How to Choose a Valentine 💜

PAIRING: idol!Jungkook x You (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: Who knew the best company for Valentine's Day would be a lovely Doberman? And who knew he'd get you a Valentine? Well, sort of.

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

GENRE: fluff and light angst

RATING: Teen (for cussing and drinking)

WARNINGS: drinking, kissing and making out while drunk (consensual), hangover, lapses of memory, misunderstandings, JK handles everything well, Bam is the center of this story, the cutest baby, and maybe a cupid, should fill your 💜 with fluff but wdik

A.N. I wasn't even supposed to write this. This is what happens when I wake up at 4 AM and can't sleep. Then I think, Hmm, I read lots of lovely fics yesterday about Valentine's Day. What would I do if I wrote one? X hours later, here we are. I just roll with it at this point, it's almost a way to deal with writer's block 😅 Enjoy 💜

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You snorted at the reel playing on your phone while your hand petted gently between the black Doberman’s ears. One girl smashed the phone camera while repeating ‘Girls don’t want flowers for Valentine’s Day’, while another immediately shyly said that yes, she’d like flowers. You scrolled; another of a guy guiding his significant other over a trail of petals; you scrolled, another of a guy explaining how he asked a girl to become his Valentine. Another, with the type of girls on Valentine’s Day and you smirked. Which one were you? Definitely not the spoiled girlfriend, you were single. Not heartbroken, you hadn’t dated for a while, or a heartbreaker. You chuckled; the only guy in your life at the moment was that sweet Doberman sleeping on your lap and you weren’t about to break his darling heart. 

The next options were single and fine with it, anti-Valentine’s Day, and Galentine’s Girl. You supposed you were fine with it but had hoped not to spend it alone, hence why you were at your best friend’s apartment. What you thought could be a day of eating and having fun together turned into dog-sitting because she needed that favor. Something along the lines of the usual sitter being ill and her needing to find someone to do it, and you were available.

You could think of more depressing ways of spending your day. You put your phone down and petted the short fur between the dog’s closed eyes, knowing he was utterly relaxed under your touch. He was the cutest thing and you had a blast walking and playing with him all day. You checked his training and he was responsive, though testy of the limits, and you made sure he understood that he had to listen to you. During your second walk, he behaved so well and was rewarded so much that you thought he wouldn’t have an appetite for dinner, but he surprised you. And now he was sleeping soundly and you didn’t want to get up, but it was time for your own dinner. Maybe you could cook something up for you and—

Your phone buzzed and you checked it; speaking of the devil.

[It’s taking longer than expected so I’ll eat here. Treat yourself sorry see you soon! 💜]

You sighed. In the end, you were going to spend it with that cutie as your Valentine. You stretched your arms and shoulders, pressing your fingers to your neck before gaining the courage to slide under the Doberman. He wasn’t pleased and adjusted his head to get back on your thigh.

“No, Bamie. I gotta eat something, come on.”

You slid again and turned on the TV as background noise before getting to the kitchen and checking your best friend’s fridge. You decided to eat a bit of everything that you could find and got set to eat on the sofa in front of the TV. Not even five minutes in, you became sort of annoyed — stupid Valentine’s Day ads. You told Bam firmly not to even think about snatching your food before you focused on streaming something instead. A corny and sweet romcom should be fun.

And you had dinner as you laughed and cried with it until a scene came up where the main character cried her sorrows over a bottle of soju and you thought, Why not? You had nothing planned the next day, at least you could have a drink.

You started with a single soju bottle, but as the episodes played and the night passed, you didn’t stop. Eventually, there were empty bottles of beer and soju and you were feeling dizzy, despite being sat down on the couch. Your last reasonable thought was to turn off the TV, the only source of light in the room, before holding on to Bam as if he were a pillow and falling asleep.

It was the sound of bottles clicking that disturbed your sleep, and your instinct was to wrap your arms closer around the fluffy dog, “Bam.”

He was wiggling his tail like crazy, and in your haze, you connected that to the bottles falling over. Not to the extra dip on the other side of the chaise longue.

Perhaps it was the fact that you heard your best friend’s voice in the distance that relaxed you, not quite registering that it disappeared after the front door closed. It was only when a different scent hit your nose that you started connecting the pieces: Bam was squeezed between you and someone else, their hand touched your arm ever so slightly while they petted him, and that musky scent was from a man.

You opened your eyes, confused by your conclusions, but not at the top of your game — a quick nap was not enough to make you sober.

“Who are you?”

Bam’s tail kept wiggling as he seemed busy facing opposite from you, looking at the person who answered you, “Who are you?”

He sounded sleepy and you couldn’t see him properly. The city lights from the window were enough but you were still too hazy.

“I asked first,” you voiced, rubbing your eyes. He didn’t seem willing to respond quickly enough, but you could feel him still petting Bam, so you sulked. You wrapped your arms around the pet harder, “Bamie is mine!”

Instantly, a new set of arms did the same and tried to steal him away, “No, he’s not! I’m his dad!”

“And I’m his mom!” The man scoffed and you raised your chin proudly. “Don’t believe me? Look.”

You let go of Bam and scanned around, seeing where you could put your feet safely in between the bottles. Then you got up and walked a bit unsteadily across the living room, standing next to the window. You could see the shape of the man all in black, including his hair, looking at you from his comfortable position with the sweet Bam happily smelling around.

He could see your expression, your baggy tee shirt falling over you and covered with cartoons, but he only cared about Bam staying in his arms. Because of course, he would.

“Bam!”

He gasped when Bam jumped from his embrace to get to you, frantically wiggling his whole body before lying on his back over your feet. He gaped as his Doberman showed his belly, happily licking your face and squirming under your belly rubs.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, grinning from ear to ear.

Then you straightened up and snapped your fingers and Bam got up too, easily following you back on the couch and splaying himself belly up in between you and the man.

“There you go,” you murmured, scratching his belly and up his chest much to Bam’s delight.

It was when Bam squirmed that his snout ended up under the man’s chin and you saw him clearly for the first time. Then he spoke and you smiled.

You woke up with a groan, drool all over the pillow, and a headache to make you want to run for the hills. But then you sat up, confusion still scrambling your brain as you eyed the bedroom.

“Bam?”

You waited but the sound of paws scratching the floor didn't grace your ears, so you got up from bed and searched for him. You looked everywhere, calling for him every few seconds, but he didn’t come out and you couldn’t seem to find him. In fact, there was no one else at home but you, which made you befuddled — where was your best friend?

Your hangover was deadly, it was trying to pull you down with a headache the size of the world. And so you beelined to the bathroom and stripped hastily to get your head under the water and try to wake up gently.

But there was no gentleness to be found when suddenly you remember something — there was a man. Yes, but— You— kissed?

Suddenly, you were flooded with the memories of you kissing, his gentle hand cupping your jaw, your trembling breath when your tongues touched. The foreign thing that ended up being a lip ring that you felt with your tongue. The way the kiss deepened, and your legs got tangled even beyond sweet Bam lying in between you.

You were hyperventilating, “What?!”

You did what?!

Did you kiss a random man? On your best friend’s couch in the middle of the night? Or did you hallucinate him because of the alcohol?

Suddenly, it came to you — he tasted of beer, and you told him as much.

You felt him smile against your lips, “And you taste of strawberry soju.”

You remembered chuckling before kissing him again, burying your fingers into slightly overgrown strands of hair that curled around your hand.

You rubbed your face under the water; you kissed him. You were both drunk, and you couldn’t remember everything, but you pressed your lips to—

You stopped breathing.

You were feeling his shoulders and pulling him close when Bam started licking both your faces, which made you both break away and laugh.

“I have to pee,” you had said, getting up.

Before you could be mortified about having said that to a random guy, you recognized that after you went to the bathroom, you forgot about getting back to the couch. Instead, you went to bed on autopilot and fell asleep. Because you were that drunk.

Well, thankfully. Otherwise, what could have ended up happening? You were not in your right mind, you could barely remember his face aside from his eyes and lip ring. You were crazy, nuts, and shouldn’t drink that much again.

You got out of the shower and got dressed quickly with more lenient thoughts. Since only kissing happened, it was okay. No harm no foul.

Your stomach was adding to the problem, but you still decided to take headache medicine before your phone buzzed and you grabbed it.

[Meet me at work and have breakfast with me?]

You agreed and got your stuff to go to her. The subway trip was twenty minutes but it was alright at that hour. The HYBE building was in a very busy area, so to already have a direct line there was a blessing.

You gave your name at the reception to get a visitor pass and went to the floor she indicated, smiling when you saw it was a cafeteria with breakfast all around.

She met you at the door and walked you through it before sitting down and watching you eat your broth carefully.

“Lots of people need caring for this morning. Funny what Valentine’s Day does to some people,” she was amused, though her expression screamed exhaustion. “If they’re in couple they drink together, if they’re single they drink alone. There’s no escape, is there?”

You were looking down apologetically until you could talk, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I… raided your fridge.”

She sighed, “I know, I saw the bottles on the floor. Hence why you’re here, to have a power breakfast.”

“What happened yesterday? Why didn’t you come home?”

Your best friend heaved a deep breath, her spirit hanging on by a thread, “My artist went to a friend's dinner last night and got drunk. I got his driver to get him home but they had an accident,” she sighed. Your eyes widened in alarm, but she raised her hand swiftly, “They’re both alright. This all to say that after my meeting got lost into late hours, instead of going home, I had to go and manage that situation.”

“That sucks…” You thought back to the previous night, unsure of how to introduce the topic.

“By the way, thank you for taking care of Bam. My artist and I really appreciated it—”

She was interrupted when a spot of black dashed for you, barking the instant you took a second to acknowledge his presence. You instantly smiled despite the horrid headache the noise was making and reached to pet him.

“No, Bam! No eating!”

“It’s not the food,” your best friend pointed out jokingly, dismissing the manager nearby who tried to admonish the pet.

You were happy to give him all the cuddles that were making him go crazy and whiny; you were happy to see him again too. It instantly pulled memories from the previous night into your mind and you wondered again how to bring it up with your best friend when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Bam.”

Bam was licking your hand happily, yet instantly darted away at the call, and you knew before you looked up. It was him. You recognized the longer hair you had gripped, the lip ring, and the eyes. The sweet yet searing eyes.

He got near your table and bowed to you both before starting a light talk with your best friend about the schedule for the day.

And you blinked, wondering why his eyes set on your best friend’s face, or rather why the whole situation felt like a gut punch. He must have been the artist your best friend was referring to, the one she managed. You wouldn’t know, she was secretive about who it was. But the way he was ignoring you couldn’t be mistaken. He didn’t acknowledge you more than that bow, but why would he? You knew who he was.

The moment your lips grazed in a slow kiss while his hand gently supported your jaw came to mind and you blinked in astonishment. You couldn't believe it happened. Even as you remembered opening your eyes the moment he pulled away a few inches to breathe and looked straight into your eyes. It was impossible. Even if you were both drunk, how—

“Excuse me.” The three of you turned to the lady in uniform. “No pets are allowed in the cafeteria,” she bowed respectfully.

It was easy for you to get up, “I’ll take Bam to the rooftop garden.”

You grabbed his leash from the man’s hand without touching him and he let it go, a bit startled. Not that you noticed; you stepped away and called for Bam, who followed you swiftly.

Jungkook stayed behind, eyes still on you leaving with his dog until you were out of sight.

“She’ll take good care of him.”

He turned back to his manager and nodded, “I know.”

His manager was ready to use every argument she had to convince him, so she chuckled, “Funny how yesterday you were borderline going nuts over a stranger taking care of him and now you’re so relaxed.”

He nodded and looked back at where you disappeared with his Bam. You were not a stranger.

“What’s that look?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing ever so lightly.

He pressed his lips and nibbled a bit on his lip ring, but then looked back at her, “When you left me at your place… something happened.”

A mix of fear and ‘oh no’ crossed his manager's face and he sat across from her where you had sat before, ignoring your tray and half-eaten food.

“We were both drunk,” he started, expecting her not to believe him, but she just nodded. “And Bam loves her. We just—” He filled his lungs with air, pushing it back out anxiously as his tattooed hand ran across his hair, “We joked around that I was Bam’s dad and she was his mom. Then, that we were both alone, nowhere close to having a Valentine, and that maybe Bam was our cupid. Instead of meeting and making a baby, the baby— made us—” He became crimson and hid his eyes for a second, then he faced her again, “We were drunk!”

“You said that,” she deadpanned firmly. She was his manager, she needed to know things in black and white. He knew that.

“So we joked. Maybe we should get together, and we kissed.”

Her eyes doubled in size, “Oh no, you didn’t!”

“We just kissed!”

Her features hardened, “Tell me right now. Tell me the truth.”

“It’s the truth! I swear, we kissed— for a while—” His ears were becoming red, “And then she went to the bathroom and I fell asleep.” His manager’s expression had not changed a millimeter, and his eyes became pleading. “You have to believe me. You woke me up and I was alone with Bam.”

“That’s true,” she acknowledged, finally heaving a breath. “Shit, this is my fault. Leave two drunk people alone, and see what happens.”

He frowned, “I don’t just go around kissing people, even when I’m drunk.”

She faced him, “That is also true.” It seemed clear to her, so he relaxed. “So what happened? Why did you kiss her?”

He blinked with wide eyes, startled by the question. “I… I don’t know.”

He looked down, containing the urge to look back at where you had left with his pet. He didn’t even know your name, he knew nothing except that Bam loved you and you tasted sweet.

His manager waited for a proper response, for any additional information. But when none came, she knew what she had to do. She sighed, “Well. I’ll have to contact our lawyers and draft an NDA. She’s my best friend”, she confessed, rubbing her eyes for a second. “Shit,” was all she expressed before getting up and rushing out.

Jungkook pressed his lips and let her leave. He was confused about the situation, about his actions. He knew so little… Why did he think it was enough?

He put away the trays you and his manager had used while he pondered this. In a way, Bam’s heart meant everything to him. The way Jungkook loved him was unexplainable, he was the only soul in the world he could ever love in such a way. His innocence and instinct were enough, and he listened to you like he only ever listened to Jungkook himself. That shouldn’t have been enough, but it was.

And he was drunk, he sighed, leaving the room. It was his fault, he knew that. He shouldn’t kiss people irresponsibly like that, and now his manager was in a tough spot.

He decided to head for the rooftop and sort this out with you. He didn’t know what to say, but he thought maybe it didn’t have to be a big deal. You two just did it and it was… freeing. There were no inhibitions or second thoughts. It was playful and innocent, and then your lips touched. He didn’t know it would feel like that, he hadn’t thought it through. But it felt so good. It created shivers, made him hot, curious, awake, alive. He had no questions, no doubts, it was like jumping out of an airplane and freefalling. It was like the wind was guiding him to fit together with you, there was nothing in him telling him to fight it.

He got to the rooftop and immediately saw you across the garden sitting on a bench with his manager, and your best friend, next to you. Bam saw him too and raised his head and ears, but he was busy grabbing a stick that had just fallen on the floor and bringing it back to you. Jungkook could have expected him to drop everything to greet him, but Bam didn’t.

His manager was explaining something to you and your eyes were glued to the floor, expression closed except for the line between your eyebrows. Only when Bam brought you back the stick and you threw it again, did you look up. Jungkook was walking closer yet slowly, not meaning to intrude, and you had thrown the stick almost right into his path. That was why Bam happily gave it to him instead, and he crouched to pet his baby while his eyes stayed on you.

Your eyes turned away when you said something. He couldn’t hear it from there, but he knew the words out of your mouth were cold. He recognized his manager trying to have you reconsider or change your mind, but your eyebrows drew closer as you bit something back and just got up and away.

You didn’t look at him as you walked in his direction towards the exit. You planned to pass by him without a word, a mix of emotions inside you that you preferred not to address. And yet Bam was what forced you to change your mind when he lit up at your presence. He looked for a pet from your hand and you immediately halted, unable to punish that sweet pup because of his dad.

Still, the words slipped the seam of your lips somewhat bitterly, “Are you a baby?”

“What?” He blinked, eyes wide as he straightened up.

“You kiss someone and your first instinct is to threaten them with NDAs?” You were frowning with a hint of contempt, but your eyes were glistening. You continued before he could say anything, “I won’t sign it. I don’t care what any of you think, this isn’t normal. You regret it? Fine, but then act like a fucking adult.”

He was at a loss for words and movement behind you had him glancing, and so you turned. Your best friend had a serious expression on her, something you imagined was her work persona. Well, too bad you had no sympathy for it.

“No,” you raised a hand before she could say something. “You’re doing your job, and I’m standing up for my principles. I’ll go to your place and get my stuff.”

You passed by him at a hastened pace and the second he turned to say, “Wait!”, the heavy glass door was already closing behind you, muffling every trace of a sound.

He turned to his manager then, seeing the tiredness, sadness, and frustration all over her face as she heaved a deep sigh and hid the tears in her eyes.

His lips twitched with a question, but she spoke instead, “She thinks I’m choosing my job over her.”

“But you’re not,” he instantly said, confused. “This isn’t necessary.”

She sighed, “I’ll deal with this, ok? Get to your shoot.”

She also passed by him quickly inside and Jungkook looked at Bam, who was lying on the floor chewing on the stick with a hard focus. Why were they so eager to get anything done without a proper conversation?

He took Bam with him across HYBE and got inside the car with other managers and assistants. They were waiting for him to continue his schedule, chatting about Bam. It would be difficult to have him on the set, but they’d contact a sitter on the way—

“Take me to Manager Kim’s place.”

“What?” His manager frowned, “Now?”

“Yes, now. To drop off Bam,” he offered, though he knew it was a lie. His manager agreed though because he knew Bam had stayed there the previous day, and being late to the shoot was fixed with a simple call giving them a warning and an apology.

Jungkook left the car first, saying that he’d go and come back quickly, and the team agreed, to his relief. He was upstairs in a beat in front of the right door, yet before he could ring the doorbell, the door opened in front of him and something crashed into his chest. His heart jumped and his hands darted to support your arms as you recoiled back, and then you looked up at him. Such beautiful big and expressive eyes, and he knew then he would have wanted to kiss you anyway.

You broke away from his arms and moved to go around him. He didn’t miss your frown, but he didn’t hesitate, “Can we talk?”

“I’m not going to sign it,” you insisted as you turned to him, adjusting your backpack over your shoulder. “But you don’t need to worry, that doesn’t mean I’ll talk about it. I’m not like that.”

He nodded once, “Okay. But that’s not what I want to talk about.”

You paused, “Oh.”

Your features smoothed in confusion and he was happy he caught your attention, “Can we go inside?”

You shrugged but walked back inside. You petted Bam gently between his ears then put your backpack down on the floor. By then, Jungkook had released Bam’s leash and closed the door. The sweet baby darted to the water bowl and your lips curved before his dad drew your attention away.

“I don’t regret it,” he said, and your eyebrows jumped. “You keep saying that, but I don’t. And I didn’t ask Manager Kim to do this either, I suppose it’s standard procedure or something. I wouldn’t know. But she’s just doing her best because she feels responsible.”

You were skeptical, “You wouldn’t know?”

“No.”

You found that hard to believe, but you didn’t insist. It had nothing to do with you. “Why would she feel responsible?”

“Because she’s in charge of me, I guess. Managers tend to feel like that even when we are, in fact, not babies.”

Your lips twitched at his choice of words.

“So don’t get mad at her. After this, I’m going to tell her to stop it. I don’t want this NDA thing, and neither do you. It’s not necessary,” he sighed. He had told his manager that before, but maybe if he insisted, she’d get it.

You nodded.

“And thank you for looking after Bam,” he finished with a smile. The Doberman had jumped on the couch a bit carelessly, but he was calm. “He’s usually nervous around strangers, but he loves you. You might really be his Mom for all he cares,” he smirked, watching as you stepped to the side to pet Bam. “And I wouldn’t… separate him from a person he loves. If you’d like to see him again.”

Your cheeks instantly caught fire as you looked at him. He held your gaze calmly, the only hint of nervousness in his fingers fidgeting. You didn’t think you were misunderstanding him, then.

“I can make time.”

He smiled, “Good.”

[merbear25]

requested by @1dkneo

Hello again! I’m happy that those fics made you crave more of your man. Law is quite the catch, isn't he? 🤭 I decided to put both of these into one fic! I hope I fed your obsession well, lovely.💜💜

Lost in the heat of the moment (Law)

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader in mind but nothing specific mentioned, creampie

You and Law had an interesting relationship to say the least. There were times you would bicker with each other over little things, yet there was still a sense of care through it all. The way you’d poke fun at the other only encouraged the playful teasing.

When you added the light touches which made him blush, you couldn’t suppress the wave of satisfaction washing over you. The soft hue on his cheeks sparked desire deep within you—the want to see his flushed face above you as he plowed into you.

As the tension between you built, so did the fire in you. When his last teasing remark was delivered in a little bit of a harsher tone, the need to release your pent-up lust became too much. Excusing yourself, you hurriedly made your way to the restroom, promptly closing the door behind you.

You sat yourself on the edge of the bathtub after unbuttoning your pants. Without wasting any more time, you let your desperation flow through the motion of your fingers. With each choked sob and suppressed shudder, you didn’t want to hold back anymore.

The abrupt exit you made was curious, but the fact that you’d already been gone a while was leading Law to believe he’d taken it too far and upset you. In search of you, he heard your muffled cries trailing from the bathroom.

You were so lost in the moment of your own ecstasy that you didn’t hear his faint knock. When your eyes fluttered open to see a flustered yet stern Law standing before you, your first reaction was to snap your hand away from your throbbing arousal.

With a darkness looming behind his eyes, he smirked at you. “And here I thought that I’d gone and hurt your feelings. You naughty little thing—making me worry like that.” 

As he stepped towards you, the shock on your face was replaced with pinning. He tugged your pants off, taking a moment to admire how beautiful you looked in your lingerie—each curve being hugged immaculately. 

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state only heightened his hunger for you. Trailing kisses along where you needed him most sent shivers down your spine. He chuckled as you tried to grip at the sides of the tub to stabilize yourself.

Hoisting you up in his arms, he placed you on the counter before planting a starved kiss on your lips, allowing your tongues to tangle in the heat of the moment. With your moans seeping into his mouth, he shoved your delicates aside to focus on your aching lust.

His fingers alone were enough to have you panting and trembling. Nipping at your lower lip, his lips were now ghosting yours. He murmured, “You’re good and ready for me, aren’t you?”

Your eager nod earned you a low growl. Roughly pulling you closer to the edge of the counter, he aligned his hips with yours. With a swift and hard thrust, it was impossible to hold back your yelps and gasps. The sudden sting of pain was quickly replaced with electrifying jolts of pleasure.

With his fingers digging into your hips, you held onto him tightly, raking your fingernails down his back. His urgent grunts and your soft mewls brushed past each other’s ears and mingled with the rising heat of fervor.

Feeling you wrapped around him, each quiver of your orgasm sent him into a frenzy. Bucking into you, his own release was gaining speed, leaving his timing to pull out in a delicate balance.

“I love this so much.”

Your euphoric, soaked words snuck up on him, coaxing him to lose all sense of self. His eyes rolled back as he held you close and with a gravelly groan, he bucked a final thrust into you.

The soft gasps and heavy panting from you coming down from your erotic high nearly replaced the realization of his lapse in judgment.

He grumbled a ‘sorry’ before pulling out, allowing the hot pent-up lust you had for each other to trickle down your ass.

Leaning up to place a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, you told him not to worry about it. Looking down at the mess you two had made, you gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse, “Would you like to join me in the shower? After all, we did just make a mess of ourselves.”

[metranart]

My one and only wants you, so he’ll have you (Part 7)

ft. Sensei! Gojo Satoru, sensei! Suguru Geto, reader insert, slight! Megumi x reader.

Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto happily married, you, their lovely student and the cause of their ragging temptation. The problem: their son, Megumi, your best friend.

⭕️ NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS CHAPTER

𖦹 Warning tags: Gojo x Reader x Geto, threesome, married couple, Suguru and Gojo happy married couple, polyamory, Teacher-Student Relationship.

-

“Fuck-…. Do your very best not to scream, baby.” The heated boy requested and a trail of kisses down your breast followed, you squeaked, and he chuckled against your belly as he kept his way down, until his wet lips kissed your sweet folds.

“Megumi-i….” you pleaded, and he smashed your heated core against his face, “where’s-where’s the timid Fushiguro?” you end up teasing.

“You make him this feral, pretty one.” You heard his husky voice muffled your folds as he ate you just as his father did hours ago. Your body squirmed, tensed and relaxed in the lapse of ten minutes straight, Megumi was as insatiable as he was agile with fingers and tongue.

“I need to-…. I need to-”

He didn't even have to finish his sentence when you spread your legs wider, presenting yourself to him and his hungry gaze.

"I said: Don't hold back, ain't I?" You reminded him, and before Megumi lost it completely to become his father’s son. Your mouth wrapped that big, awfully thick piece of meat shinning on precum inside, tasting him, licking from head to balls. Making his skin spark in thousands of goosebumps and his bones to tremble inside his body.

This was pure glory, his dream come true, this was heaven to him. Thrusting a few times inside your wet cave just to shoot a small spurt of cum right into your throat, panting and heaving himself away from you before he came completely.

“Inside you,” he ordered, and you grinned so sensually he almost came on the spot, desire shinning in your orbs made him feel more welcome than his parents the first time he met them. Fuck! You were his everything and moving your body to his liking he positioned himself between your spreads thighs to easily slip inside you, of course, after being eaten so thoughtfully the entire day, your walls almost welcome him and shaped around his girth as if he belonged inside you.

“Fuck!” Megumi growled, blissed out. “OHGOD! I’m home-”

He tasted the smile on your face as you claimed his lips to kiss him, and Megumi’s hips started slow yet quickly gain inch by inch, heroically claiming you as he thrusted -wild and feral- inside your wetness, you feel like the nicest pocket of flesh, your gummy walls pulsating around him felt devastatingly good.

Wet noises mixed with high pitched mewls from your parted quivering lips and deep grunts pour out of him from time to time as he reached deeper inside your welcoming core. 

It was lewd the barbaric way Megumi had chosen to breed you.

He doesn’t remember burying his palm in your mane to spin you around and practically shove you on top of his mattress to change positions over and over again, twisting you to his liking. 

Cannot recall wrapping your legs around him to force you to ride him, or his mouth rejoicing in your delicious pair of round breasts to have his full, squeezing and pinching the perked flesh with teeth while defiling you.

When did he started to slam full force into you, rattling the mattress as he sheath himself in your slick warmth to the hilt, still eluded him. The raven-haired devil was carelessly reordering your womb as he devotedly fed your tight lips his cock. Openly dismissing your pleas for him to go slower, to be gentler…instead, kept rocking mercilessly deep making sure to hit, brazenly and repeatedly, that special spot inside you just to see the fireworks.  

A pleased sound rumbled in his chest with contained mirth and a disturbingly stretched grin betrayed his natural compose self. 

“My sweet–sweet (Y/N)” he growled in a strained voice. Gruff fingers keeping you effectively anchored to his groin, gushing away into your resistless, subdued pussy. 

Both hands dutifully keeping you trembling hips up and ready, even after all strength had been drained and hanged limp, only secured by his greedy grasp.

“Sweet, defenseless (Y/N)…” He snarled into your neck leaning over you and clamping a hand down over your shoulder to adjust his angle just the slightest bit. “P-Precious girl...so eager to take her best friend’s cock…–” 

Dragging you with him, lifted your leg, anchoring his foot against the edge of the mattress and found his leverage to pound deeper, groaning throatily, Megumi continued to slap his loaded heavy balls against your over-used pussy, covered and dripping in their combined fluids, plump and ready with a fresh load cooked especially for his little darling.

“–Foolish (Y/N) … foolish enough to accept to have a sleepover with me… just to get railed against my bed” he licked his lips. “Do you think they are listening?” Megumi wondered and glance down at you to find you numb from the blast of pleasure. 

Your moans were those of a subjugated and defeated animal. You had been conquered by the implacable Zenin heir who stubbornly refused to give up an inch of his new territory. Thrust after thrust continued his crusade. Each one more deliciously accurate, pulling him closer to the blinding sensation of release. 

“I know they are listening…” he sounded amused and soon a quiet long, raspy moan filled the room. “I hope they are listening… paying special attention at how I fill you up so good. Fuck! I’m even putting a couple of my pups inside you tonight, baby.”

Megumi began to feel his frame grow tense; this angle was insanely perfect to him. You at his mercy, unable to deny him, incapable of dodge or hide from his grasp. Gave free rein to his corrupt essence to defile you. Megumi was taking what was rightfully his. That thought bloated his arousal, clouding what little self-restrain he had left and pistoned his narrow hips like a feral rabbit.

You, being merciless nailed to his mattress could barely breath, much less emit any coherent noise apart from low mewls of despair and the attempt of his name in your angelical, overused vocal cords. But it was more than enough to guide the man on top of you straight into his blissful reward. 

“If you fucking respect me” he warned feeling himself close, eyes rolled to the back of his head and balls tighten almost painfully. “Don’t you ever look at them again! You are MINE!”

Head pulled back, feverish cheeks and mouth hanging slightly open before a deep, long grunt echoed through the walls whilst white thick ribbons of cum washed the inside of your convulsing walls while milking every last drop out of him. 

“F-FUUUUCK!~”

A mind-blowing orgasm kidnapped all his senses, melting away what strength he had left, and the intensity of the act shook him awake with a startled gasp. 

Megumi opened his heavy lids to find himself alone in the futon right next to his bed where you still were soundly sleeping. He was a sweaty mess, soiled and dripping from his awfully vast load now painting the inside of his pants, and shame abruptly and frustratingly began to creep into his injured pride. 

“Shit! Shit!...Shit!“ he blasted quietly in anger. Another fucking dream–…he reprimanded internally while massaging the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm his erratic heartbeat. 

Am I fucking fifteen again!? 

Slowly straightening he verified that you were effectively deep sleep before sigh in relieve. 

His shirt was drenched in sweat and his cheeks were red and foggy, pants awkwardly sticking to his hot skin reminding him his cold stain of disgrace. Megumi passed a hand through his disheveled hair unsticking wet strands from his forehead and sat up in his futon getting rid of the asphyxiating covers. 

This dream was way more intense and vivid than the last ones…is this my life now? To fantasize about you like a lame pathetic loser. 

Angrily huffing, lazily hauled his shirt off and drop the heavy fabric producing a wet thud while hitting the floor, immediately feeling better when the cold air hit his warm skin. He needed to take a bath and wash his pants, personally. It was mortifying enough to cum like a teenager in private, for someone else to find out too… and he needed to do all of this before you wake up.

A knock on the door, startle him out of his obsessing mind which busy itself in repeating the dream in an insistent loop and in a compose voice replied. 

“Who is it?” 

Megumi waited and the stain in his pants grew more noticeable by the minute making him feel more anxious.

“It’s Dad, open up.”

Dammit! Dammit!... Not him, not right now.

COMING SOON PART 8....

⭕️ NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS STORY

[wileys-russo]

going the distance II unc!a.russo x reader

as always unc!era remains god tier, based on this request

going the distance II unc!a.russo x reader

"-and you're sure she doesn't know?" you asked lotte for the tenth time who rolled her eyes. "yes i'm sure! have i ever lied to you?" the brunette chuckled, keeping a careful eye out as she ushered you through the campus.

you'd met your girlfriend when you were sixteen at a house party, she'd gone along with a few of her under nineteen national team after a big win and the cheers the small group had gained as the entered captured your attention.

you'd known lotte for years having grown up a few houses down from her your families had become quite close, though once things with football became more serious you'd seen less of her still at school yourself.

so quickly making your way over for a hug and hello was when she'd introduced you to a few of her friends, alessia a little tongue tied around you much to her friends amusement as she seemed to follow you around all night not unlike a lost puppy.

you'd exchanged numbers and hung out a few times. her crush on you was anything but subtle as you finally grew inpatient of waiting for her to make a move after weeks of pining and made one of your own, catching her off guard.

from then on her confidence grew as did your feelings for one another and the rest was a story she loved to tell people at any chance she was given, especially now that you both lived in separate countries and were doing long distance.

which lead to right now as lotte let herself into her dorm room, ushering you inside with a worried look around, knowing alessia was due over anytime now. it was the final game of the season, the championship, and you'd lead alessia to believe you'd not be able to be there for it.

your own university had broken up last week despite you lying to your girlfriend of almost two and a half years now that you had another fortnight of exams and wouldn't be able to come and support her, which she was gutted by but made sure not to show this to you knowing your own education wasn't any less important than hers.

you'd come and seen her in north carolina a few times now though rarely while she was mid season given your university semester dates seldom allowed you to, and you relished in the few weeks every term break where she was back home and the two of you fell into your old routine together.

distance does make the heart grow fonder but the small lapses in it where you were back together again just meant leaving one another and going back to having that distance was so much harder, and it hurt a lot for the first few days adjusting back into it.

the blonde was by nature incredibly hard to surprise, always working out your plans before you had a chance to even try much to your growing frustrations and her insistence that it was an 'accident'.

so spurred on by her family you'd concocted this plan and roped lotte in to help, alessia's own family were due to touch down in a few days time and you'd stay with them for the most part but lotte had pulled some strings with the coaches that would mean you could stay with alessia at the uni for a few days beforehand.

but first, came the seemingly simple task of surprising her with your presence. however you knew nothing was that easy with the stubborn striker and the lack of contact from you for a couple of days as you'd flown over was sure to have raised her suspicions.

you'd even gone as far as to memorise the time differences, making sure you weren't texting her as you normally would once you touched down, since you were supposed to be sleeping.

you'd excused your lack of contact and drawn it down to your need to study for the exams which didn't really exist, alessia being understanding as usual though you knew from chatting with lotte on the way back from the airport that your girlfriend had been miserable.

"get in the closet."

"what?" you gave the taller brunette a bewildered look as she opened the door, dropped your bags down and gestured inside. "lotte!" you huffed, this not a part of the original plan.

"you want to surprise her right? you can jump out and scare the living daylights of her, very romantic." lotte grinned gesturing again for you to get inside.

"i came out of the closet three years ago wubben-moy, this feels slightly homophobic." you huffed as she shoved you playfully and you stepped inside, hurriedly closing the door as knocks sounded on the other one.

your heart rate accelerated hearing your girlfriends voice as she entered the room, knowing she was only a few metres away after not seeing her in person for months now.

"lotte why do i have to help you catch up? you're normally so on top of your assignments this is very unlike you." you heard alessia groan and the squeak of a mattress meaning she'd likely collapsed onto the bed, and you could very near imagine the bored look which would be etched in her features.

"oh its not me who needs help with their studies." lotte stated and you heard her knock twice on the cupboard door signally you were good to go. "what the hell do you mean its not-"

"surprise!" you shouted as you barelled out of the closet, both you and lotte grinning as alessia jolted up and very near went flying off the edge of the bed as she just caught herself.

"can you help me study for my exams please babe?" you smiled, a flash of blonde flying toward you and you laughed as her hands hooked under your thighs hoisting you up into a bone crushing hug, your legs wrapping around the taller girls waist.

"surprise, finally got ya russo." you chirped with a grin, softening as you wiped a few stray tears from the corner of her eyes. "baby don't cry." you laughed, hugging her tightly and running a hand through her hair, winking at lotte who was filming a few feet away.

"but you were-and then you said-but you had to-don't you have-" the striker rambled out among her sniffles, hopelessly lost and most definitely shocked as she struggled to even get out a sentence.

"i know, might have told a few white lies love but in my defence you are incredibly hard to surprise. so nosy!" you teased, your girlfriend placing you back down on your feet and pulling you in for another hug, your face pressed into her shoulder as she clung onto you as if worried it was all some sort of dream.

"are you really here right now?" "i'm really here right now, and you've got me all to yourself till we fly home for spring break."

"seriously!" alessia's eyes widened even further as her lips finally curled into a shit eating grin. "if thats okay?" you clarified, not entirely sure of her schedule as her head nodded about a million miles per hour, grin somehow widening even further.

"alright lovebirds it was a pleasure to help meddle in this little plan but i don't fancy a live show of you 'catching up' so please, exit stage left!" lotte smiled, opening her door and waving for the two of you to leave.

you tried to grab your bags but your girlfriend had them all in her hands before you could even try. "shut up." the blonde smiled shutting down your protests, sweetly kissing your cheek a few times as lotte jokingly gagged and your stomach fluttered at even just the brief sensation of her lips against your skin.

"less let me just take one!" you laughed as she struggled, shifting your duffle on her shoulder so she could free up a hand to grab yours, the two of you mostly you, hugging lotte goodbye as you departed for alessia's own room which was only luckily just down the hall.

you'd been here before so there wasn't any need for a tour, just time to make up for as your girlfriend jutted out her hip and nodded for you to grab her room keys from her pocket. unlocking the door the two of you hurried inside, alessia dropping your bags the moment it clicked closed again.

"god i missed you." she exhaled shakily and within seconds her hands were on your hips and your body was being pulled flush into hers, her head dipping to connect her mouth to yours as your knees nearly buckled from the breathless passionate kiss you were rewarded with.

"missed you more." you mumbled against her lips, hands resting on her cheeks as she pulled the two of you to sit down on the edge of her bed, never breaking the kiss for even a second.

"hi." you finally pulled away, pressing your forehead against hers. "hello gorgeous." the blonde beamed, unable to keep the smile off her face as you wrapped your arms around her neck and the two of you collapsed with a laugh back into the mattress.

"you really had no idea at all?" you questioned, slotting your legs between hers as she firmly shook her head. "not a single bit. i was moping alot because we weren't talking much, lotte told me i was becoming insufferable to be around." the striker pouted which you made quick work of kissing away, grinning at the slight blush which coated her cheeks afterwards.

"now thats hardly a championship winning attitude baby." you smiled in amusement as again she perked up, pushing herself up to rest on one elbow. "you'll be here for the game!" alessia realized excitedly, flopping down on top of you and peppering your face with kisses as you laughed and pushed her off.

"you can wear one of my jerseys, i'll braid your hair, you can sit with my family and- wait do they know you're here too?" your girlfriend rambled on as you nodded. "sure do. honestly shocked neither one of your brothers let it slip, they're just as bad as you are with surprises." you teased with a grin.

"its a russo family curse i'm afraid my love." "what to be hopelessly nosy?" "hey!"

~

"less!" you laughed, trying to take a seat as your girlfriend slid her body left and right, blocking you at every opportunity as she patted her thighs expectantly.

"only one seat left i'm afraid, sorry babe." the striker grinned, wrapping her arms around your torso and pulling you down to sit on her lap as you rolled your eyes. "are they always like this?" one of her teammates katie asked lotte who hummed as alessia smacked her shoulder.

"don't be jealous now girls." the blonde winked as you sighed dramatically causing her to playfully pinch your side. "hey we're hardly jealous, its your little love bubble which caused you to be late which means you're running the beep test solo this afternoon at training." katie smirked as your girlfriend groaned loudly, forehead thumping into your back.

"i would like the jury to know that it was not my fault and i tried for a half an hour to encourage her to get up and out of bed but she refused." you spoke loudly as lotte smacked her fist on her textbook like a judges gavel proclaiming your innocence.

"i'm not a morning person and i don't understand why we have to go for a team run at 6am in summer!" alessia huffed as you twisted around and played with the rings on her fingers absentmindedly.

"that doesn't sound very team orientated of you captain russo." you smirked, katie cheering and giving you a high five as you felt your girlfriends glare burn into the back of your head, stretching around to smile and peck at her lips.

"you should come watch, see your girlfriend all sweaty and hot." madeline another one of her teammates grinned from beside lotte. "more like puffing, panting and on the ground half dead. its boiling out there and again need i remind less; beep test." katie added on as alessia groaned even louder, squeezing you tightly.

"i'll be sure to bring a video camera." you nodded eagerly, her teammates roaring with laughter as your girlfriend continued her whining, disappointed when no one took her side or agreed to her plan to try and get out of the beep test, all of them having been up and ready in the morning and lacking in sympathy.

luckily for alessia given that it was so close to the championship training was a closed afair so she'd left you to occupy yourself in her dorm room, almost making herself late again as she'd insisted on about a hundred kisses goodbye.

"alessia you'll be done in a few hours and i'll be right here, you're not off to fight a war love get out!" you laughed pushing at her chest as she puckered her lips for another kiss, sighing dramatically and blowing you one final kiss as she raced out the door.

arriving luckily with just a few seconds to spare she saved herself any further punishment, the solo beep test enough of a grueling humiliation as the rest of her team sat with ice vests and water bottles on the sideline cheering her on.

finally making it to the last level alessia could run no more, collapsing onto her back and covering her eyes with her arm, nodding along to her coaches words and heeding the warning if she blew off a single training she'd be benched and stripped of the captains armband.

though it seemed harsh she knew it was fair and that as captain she needed to step up and set a good example, her team mates helping her up and strapping an ice vest on, helping her to sit down and chug a powerade as everyone stretched and chattered about the weekends match.

finally dismissed the girls dragged themselves off the pitch, alessia practically peeling herself off the bench, grabbing their bags and all reminded firmly that there was to be another 6am run tomorrow and everyone was expected to show at 5:45am sharp.

now she could breath and somewhat walk again the teasing began, alessia taking it all on the chin as slowly the girls branched off in small groups heading for their respective dorm buildings and agreeing to meet up later to do dinner together and some team bonding, a subtle request from the coaching staff.

hearing alessia's key turn in the door she'd opened it before you could even stand, sat with your feet propped up on her desk reading a book. "hey baby." you greeted her happily, a grin curling onto your lips at the disheveled sight of her.

"how was the beep test?" you teased as she dropped her bag and kicked her slides off by the door, collapsing to lay down on the floor with a deep sigh. "that fun huh?" you laughed spinning around in her chair, still adjusting from the english cold you were certainly feeling the heat yourself. so you couldn't even begin to imagine running around in it for a few hours like alessia had been.

"go shower lessi, you'll feel much better." you encouraged, poking her limp form with your foot as she whined and pushed it away. "too hot to move." alessia mumbled, patting the floor beside her clearly expecting you to lay down with her.

"not till you shower, i can smell you from here." you smirked, an u impressed glare sent your way as your girlfriend slowly got up to her feet with a groan of pain. "thanks for your sympathy babe." she grumbled as she did.

"alessia!" it was now your turn to groan as she wrapped herself around you, her skin sticking uncomfortably to your own. "get off you're disgustingly sweaty." you moaned trying to wrench her hands off to no avail.

"didn't you miss me baby? honestly you're so rude." she mumbled into your neck making you roll your eyes. "are you studying?" she frowned at the book in your hands. "no! some of us like to just read...for fun." you smacked her forehead with the book.

"mmm my smart pretty girl, soon to be a lawyer!" alessia grinned wolfishly, pecking your lips and gratefully peeling herself off of you. "more like in three more years baby but thank you for your support." you chuckled.

"i still tell everyone my girlfriends studying law, very very very proudly." alessia beamed, hovering over you as she held herself up, hands gripping the arms of the desk chair you were sat in.

"as i tell everyone my girlfriend is going to win gold for england in the next olympics, very very very proudly." you smiled up at her, both your eyes shining with adoration. "that medal will be going right around your neck baby, my good luck charm." alessia mumbled as she pressed her lips to yours, you pushing her away before she could go any further.

"go shower! then we can makeout." "or we could shower together and makeout." "well women are supposed to be good at multi tasking right?" "mm exactly love. so lets go prove their point then."

~

"that was pathetic! you can do so much better than that." alessia laughed, effortlessly stopping the ball with her foot and shaking her head. "you're supposed to be coaching me here not insulting me!" you huffed crossing your arms with a pointed stare.

"i have told you over and over how to kick it, i can't kick it for you baby." alessia grinned, rolling the ball back to you as you sighed, smiling sarcastically as she commended your trapping it.

the two of you were messing around kicking a ball on a spare pitch she'd been given access to as captain, having accompanied your girlfriend for her afternoon workout, even joining in much to her utter delight.

though you knew really alessia only encouraged it so that she could have her hands all over you in nothing but a pair of bike shorts and a sports bra as she 'helped you' use all the equipment as if you'd never stepped foot in a gym before, but hardly disliking her hands all over you you played into it.

for a cool down she'd suggested the two of you kick a ball around, the sun setting the perfect backdrop for you to agree as you'd spent more time taking photos than playing any form of football as your girlfriend has confiscated your phone.

"football is your thing not mine!" you huffed as again your shots were all easily blocked by your girlfriend in goal. "okay now i'm going to defend and you have to get past me and shoot, no one to stop you scoring once you do. easy!" alessia stepped forward as you grabbed the ball and placed it by your feet.

"give me your worst babe."

of course, even your very worst was no match for the footballer between you, alessia taking the ball off you with ease every single time.

"ref! where's the ref! contact!" you yelled as your girlfriends arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off the ground, carrying you easily in one arm as she expertly flicked the ball into the back of the net.

"referee! obstruction!" you laughed, alessia throwing you over her shoulder as she pumped her arms up in victory, spinning the two of you around before collapsing to the ground and taking you with her.

"dirty cheat, you've been in america too long!" you laughed, moving so your head was resting on her bare stomach, both of you just in shorts and sports bra's as the thick summer heat was pelting down even as the evening ascended.

"russo! clear off please the juniors have to train!"

~

"-and then my mum said they're already headed over with some of the other families so to meet them at the field." your girlfriend informed as you hummed, her head laid in your lap as you sat against the headboard of her bed.

"we should really get going love, you're starting to cut it fine." you reminded with a smile, chuckling as she sighed and buried her face in your stomach. "i'm nervous."

"what?" you frowned, not quite hearing her with her face smushed into your top. "i'm nervous." she sighed, sitting up and moving so she was beside you, your hand quickly grabbing hers.

"thats to be expected baby this is a big game. but you've played big games and all you can do is give it your best and no one can ask anything more of you!" you stated firmly, moving so you were straddling her lap and grabbing her face in your hands.

"you are a phenomenal brilliant passionate talented footballer lessi, you've already played for your senior national team three times and you're only twenty. thats huge!" you traced her jaw with your thumbs as she nodded.

"you're the captain of this team for a reason and i have not a shadow of doubt one day you're gonna be captain of england. this is that first step you have to take toward it, next up is the euros and the olympics and the world cup, onwards and upwards. but for now you need to go out give 100% and inspire your girls to do the same! you're going to win this and lift that championship trophy, i know you are." you promised.

"can you repeat that? i'm going to need to write it down and give it as my captains speech." the blonde joked though you were relieved to see the tension in her shoulders ease a little at your words. "i love you. i am so fucking happy you're here and you have no idea how much it means to me." alessias hands caressed your thighs with a gentle squeeze.

"i love you more, my star girl."

~

"i have to say the pink tape wrap headband she's rocking is something new, is that an american thing?" gio tutted as you rolled your eyes and pushed him, luca mumbling to focus on the game as the match ticked down to its final minutes, unc ahead by just a singular goal they'd well and truly parked the bus.

"this is it, this is the last play." you exhaled shakily as the injury time ran out and the opposition gained a corner. "i can't watch." you shook your head, covering your face with your hands as alessias mum carol rubbed your back with a chuckle on your other side.

you peeked through a crack in your fingers as there was a thump and the baill sailed through the air, a sea of players decked out in both baby blue and red pushed and shoved one another desperate to make first contact.

it was the opposition who got the first touch, smacking the ball at goal as it just grazed the keepers fingers and there was a sharp inhale from the home support, no one uttering a word.

but as the body of players parted it revealed the unc goalkeeper did make the save, curled up around the ball as the whistle blew for full time and there was a thunderous roar as everyone around you all leapt to their feet with whistles, screams, claps and cheers.

you jumped about and hugged alessia's family and friends, watching on with a heart swelled up with pride as your girlfriend raced around the field with her team.

"thats your cue!" gio nudged you as she appeared at the barrier grinning up at you, ignoring her brothers making kissy faces as mario told them off and you made your way down toward her.

"told you you could do it." you beamed as you hung over the barrier, your girlfriend pulling you into a hug as you whispered her praises into her ear, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"proper one for the winner?" the blonde grabbed your jersey in her fists with a grin, tugging your lips to meet her own as you kissed her, cheeks flushing red at the wolf whistles from her team mates who alessia flipped off without even needing to break the kiss.

"my winner."

[myfictionaldreams]

Family // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sirius Black, the usually happy prankster within Hogwarts, had a special skill for hiding his emotions. Until one day, he's forced to face the realities of the troubles with his family.

Requested by: @bullets-from-another-dimension Thank you so much for the request and for showing me that Sirius needs a little more love! I hope you like this fic, and thanks for your support with the poly!marauders ♥

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst (lots!), fluff (also lots!), emotional hurt, discussion of Sirius' abusive family, disowned, crying, hugs/kissing, polyamory relationship, nipple play, body worship, making out, oral sex (m receiving), happy ending

A/N: This is just a little PSA that I'll be going through my other Poly!Marauders fics sometime soon to change some bits to make sure that each of the boys is getting enough love! It won't be anything major for the overall story, just spreading the love equally as it appears Sirius may have been skipped a few times (and I don't want that!), so check for an 'edited' note on the story. Thank you for pointing this out to me!

Words: 4.8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The last 24 hours had been an emotional rollercoaster, with both positives and negatives coming to light. It had started with the ultimate showdown game of Quidditch between Slytherin and Gryffindor; with both Sirius and James on the team. You and Remus had been nervous wrecks just for the game, let alone all the tension drowning within the two enemy houses. This escalated outside of the pitch, with wands having to remain in hands between lessons to prepare for sabotage attacks from either team.

It was endlessly tiring the days leading up to the events, and it was some kind of a miracle to be standing in the Gryffindors' stands without a single injury. Now, however, you and Remus had to live through the fear of watching your boyfriends fly around with their roles as Seeker and Beater.

You were sure you’d accidentally bitten your nail down to the cuticle by the end of the match, and your throat felt as if you’d swallowed sandpaper with how sore it was with the screaming and shouting you’d been doing in support. There was instant relief as James finally caught the snitch, and everyone cheered.

“Do you think he’ll be ok?” you shout up to Remus, who, with his height difference, could see over the crowd to where the commotion was occurring on the pitch. As James had dived for the snitch, so had the Slytherin’s seeker, who just happened to be Sirius’ brother, Regulus. However, in mid-dive, Regulus accidentally knocked into one of the goalposts, hitting his head and falling from his broom. Thankfully to the Slytherins, Sirius had been close by and caught his falling brother from gaining any further injuries.

Remus was nodding to your question, “Yes, he’s walking away, well - he’s pushing Sirius away, so I’m sure he’s just fine”, he explained, watching Regulus shove Sirius, so the man stumbled away. A pang of guilt settled heavily in your stomach at the thought of the brothers arguing. You knew that the relationship between Sirius and his brother was non-existent these days, and it only made you feel more awful for your boyfriend, understanding how difficult it must have been to lose his family in the way he has.

You couldn’t ponder on these thoughts as the entirety of Gryffindor and the vast majority of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff began celebrating the win. This included Sirius, who scooped you into an exaggerated hug, spun you high into the air, and carefully placed your feet back onto the floor.

“Was your brother alright?” You shout to Sirius over the noisy crowd forming around the winning team. For a split second, you witness sadness filling his grey eyes before he snaps out of it and a beaming smile replacing the momentary lapse in his emotions.

“Oh, he’s fine; I’m sure a quick knock to the head will bring some sense to him. Anyway, come on, let’s all go back to the common room; I have a special surprise for everyone”. Sirius was great at many things, and covering his emotions was one of them. Any attempts to open up about the situation regarding his family would change the subject within the blink of an eye. You respected that he didn’t want to talk about any of his family members, but you still kept a close eye on him, making sure that he didn’t pent up his emotions until he was at breaking point, which you feared would occur one day as there was only so much one person could go through.

The interaction with Regulus seemed to have been forgotten in the madness of celebrating, which ran into the early morning hours in the Gryffindor common room. It would have continued later, but Professor McGonagall arrived in her dressing gown and demanded everyone go to bed. Sirius needed the most help to bed, having drunk the ‘surprise’ fire whiskey he regretted deeply in the morning.

“I’m never drinking again. Who’s idea was it anyway to bring Firewhiskey?!” came the deep groan of the man lying face first beside you, his face thoroughly buried into the pillow. Your temples were pounding slightly; you’d felt worse hangovers, but it was still uncomfortable as you rolled over towards Sirius.

Your arm wrapped over his naked back, face pressed over his shoulder blade as you could feel the toned muscles adjusting to your presence as you melted into his warmth. “It was your idea. I’m never falling for your charms ever again, Sirius”, you mumbled against his skin, reminiscing on his sweet talking skills from last night that convinced you to have a drinking competition with him.

This pulled him out of the half-unconscious state as his mop of hair turned in your direction. The movement caused you to roll off him and witness the beautiful sight of his morning glow; even in his hangover, he was handsome with one eye squished closed as the room was too bright.

Sirius turned his body entirely towards you, huffing as he moved, and you refrained from trying to reach out and control the usually silky locks of hair that were now all knotted and tangled on the top of his head. “Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure my charms made you cum three times before the fire whiskey joined the party,” he commented confidently and admired the warmth that filled your face. You attempted to hide your smile at the memories but were soon fully scream-laughing as Sirius tried to break your facade by tickling your sides.

Pushing him away, you turned and nuzzled into the naked chest of James, who remained asleep even through your loud laughter, but his arms still wrapped around your shoulders protectively. Besides James, you could see Remus was awake, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Remusssss, Sirius is being mean to me”, you drawl childishly.

The man sighed, dropping his hands to give you and Sirius a pointed look, “Please, children, it’s too early, and my head is too painful for you to make this much noise”.

Sirius smirked as he spooned in close behind you, wrapping his arm around you and James as everyone tried to have a few more moments of beautiful sleep before breakfast, and class pulled the four of you from the safety of the bed.

The food helped to settle the hangovers that the majority of Gryffindor seemed to be nursing this morning, much to the displeasure of McGonagall, who was glaring at her house from the Professor’s table. Sitting beside James, you leaned across him for another slice of toast as Sirius sat opposite you with Remus next to him.

As everyone started to be rejuvenated with energy from the breakfast, the owls began to swoop in and deliver the mail for the day. An emerald-coloured envelope landed on Sirius's lap, which caught the attention of you and the fellow Marauders. You already had your suspicions about who the letter was from. Sirius mostly confirmed it, as he had hardly read the letter before shoving it into his bag and brushing off any attempts at discussing who it was from.

“It’s nothing, just some spam letter. So, who do we have first today? Is it transfiguration? I can’t imagine that will be fun with how angry McGonagall looks right now.” Sirius changed the subject, but it didn’t convince any of you as you eyed him sadly. He didn’t wait for a response as he stood, gripping his bag so tight that his knuckles turned white. “Come on, otherwise we’ll be late”.

You knew something was off just by the quipped tone of his voice, and the humour and light that always seemed to dance in his eyes had been significantly dimmed. Even as James tried to humour him with his usual party tricks and jokes, it only earned him a half-assed chuckle from Sirius. Remus even attempted to pull him aside before entering the classroom to see if he needed a moment alone to talk, but Sirius just distracted him with a quick kiss and said he was fine.

You were quick to sit next to Sirius near the back of the classroom, smiling brightly with the hopes that he would return it, but it seemed he was lost in his thoughts as he idly arranged his parchment paper and quills. Thankfully, as the class began, his hand rested on your thigh so you could link both fingers together, lifting it and kissing the back of his hand.

As McGonagall began to teach the class, you leaned closer to Sirius, savouring the warmth that radiated off him and smelling the citrusy scent from his aftershave. “Is everyone ok, Sirius?” Your voice was barely audible so as not to disrupt the class, but you knew he heard as his posture stiffened, and he nodded his head, fake smiling for a second before returning his attention to the teacher. “I know there’s something wrong. Talking might help; I mean - I want to help-”

“Excuse me at the back. Is there something more important than my lesson?” McGonagall demanded with a passive-aggressive raised eyebrow as all other eyes turned to look at you and Sirius.

As your mouth opened to take the blame, your boyfriend beat you to it, “Sorry, Professor. That was my fault I was distracting her”.

“You’re already on thin ice after last night's antics, Mr Black. See me after class to arrange a detention”.

Your mouth drops open to retort to her and tell him it wasn’t Sirius, but the hand holding yours squeezes, stopping you from saying anything. As McGonagall turns back to write on the chalkboard, you lean close to harshly whisper, “You didn’t have to do that, Sirius! That should have been my detention!”

“It’s only one detention, I don’t care”, he shrugs nonchalantly, releasing your hand to begin writing his notes. You frown so deeply that a line forms between your eyebrows as you glance towards Remus and James, who have similar expressions of worry, especially as Sirius hasn’t even attempted to have any sort of friendly banter with McGonagall like he usually did.

At lunch, Sirius had somehow managed to slip away from the group, and your head seemed to be fixated towards the entrance to the Great Hall, neck straining to see over the other students as you waited for him to walk in.

“I mean, it’s not just me, right? There’s definitely something wrong with him”, you say before nervously nibbling on your lower lip.

Remus’ hand cups your shoulder, gripping gently as he agrees, “It’s not just you. I tried to talk to him before the lesson, but he just pushed me away. He just wants to be by himself; I’m sure he’ll be just fine”.

You nod to yourself but don’t believe his words. Yes, Sirius was strong and had been putting on a strong appearance for years, but he never pushed himself away from the three of you. It was like an invisible angel on your shoulder, trying to nudge you towards him, knowing something wasn’t right.

“Have either of you got the Marauder's map?” you ask Remus and James, who then check their pockets and school bags but cannot find the map.

“Sorry, Love, he’s probably got it with him”, James reports, appearing as deflated as you felt.

Standing from the table, the anxious causing your stomach to clench with unease and unable to eat, you inform the two of them, “I’ll be back later; I just need to make sure he’s ok and safe”.

Remus and James nod in understanding and watch you go. As you stand in the entrance to the Great Hall, you’re unsure where to start and what's worse is that he could be in his Padfoot form, which means he’d be able to hear you coming and run away. There were the grounds to search, Hogsmeade, the entirety of the enormous castle; there were plenty of places for him to be.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you decided to search the dormitory first, hoping the map had been left in a draw up there.

Opening the door to the dormitory room that you shared with your boyfriends, you were welcomed to the sight of Sirius, lying face first on the shared bed, his head turned away from the doors but from the noticeable sniffling noises and his shoulders shaking, you knew he was crying. Your heart felt like someone had reached inside your chest and squeezed as the sight rocked you. Silently as you could, you slipped your shoes off and placed your school bag onto the floor.

You knew he was aware someone else was in the room as his cries softened, and he subtly tried to wipe his face into the pillow. As you began to crawl onto the bed, you could see he was spooning the pillow you usually used to sleep on, clutching it desperately close to his chest. You had to remember to breathe through your nose, remain strong, and not descend into your emotions.

Kneeling next to him, your hand gently met the centre of his back, rubbing slow, comforting circles into his white shirt, hoping the action would comfort him. “Sirius, what’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing's wrong” he tried to brush it off, but you could hear the thickness of his voice as he tried to hide his face further in the pillow beneath his head.

“Is it about the letter from earlier? Who sent it to you?” Even though you knew he didn’t really want to talk about it, you knew he’d also built a wall around his emotions and wanted him to feel like he was in a safe enough space to talk, like the many times he’d done the same for you. Reaching over with your other hand, you ran your fingers through the long strands of dark hair, brushing them out of his face that was still turned away from you. “Talk to me, my love, please. I want to help you”.

Reluctantly, Sirius turned over and began to pull you down to lie in the centre of the bed. You did so and spread your arms wide as he moved to lie on your chest, the top of his head resting beneath your chin as you hugged him closely.

“No one important sent me the letter, it’s fine. I just want to cuddle”, he admits with a sigh, relaxing into the hold, the pillow he’d been spooning now forgotten about as he had the real thing instead, finding comfort instantly. In this position, you could hold him close and do the same actions as before, stroking gently up and down his back whilst also playing with his hair.

You want to tell him that you knew who the letter was from, but he seemed content with being held instead for a couple of minutes until you felt dampness seeping across the column of your neck and down your chest as his shoulders began to shake once more.

“Sirius-?”

“It was from my parents. The letter, I mean. Fuck! I don’t know, it's so stupid.” he sits up abruptly, aggressively wiping away the leaked tears he’d been desperately trying to stop.

Sitting beside him, you rubbed his shoulders while trying to calm him down from his overwhelming emotions. “It’s not stupid, my love.” As you talk, you grip his twists to pull them away so he can look into your face and hopefully see the love there. “Your parents, they’re awful people, Sirius, and anyway, you’re perfectly within your right to show emotions every once in a while; I just need you to know that I’m here for you, we’re all here for you, no matter how you are feeling. It’ll be ok”.

Even though it was comforting for him to hear the words, it still seemed to break something within him. Like a crack had formed in the dam as he relented with his cries, openly sobbing into his hands. Whilst trying to swallow the lump that had developed in your throat, you pulled him close, kissing every part of him that you could reach whilst wiping away the cascading tears.

“You don’t have to tell me what was said in the letter, but I just need you to know that they’re not your real family; you know we’re all your family”. Sirius pulls back from the hug, and your bottom lip trembles at seeing how heartbroken he looks. The area around his eyes is swollen and red to match the shade at the tip of his nose as wetness covers the length of his cheeks.

His mouth opens to say something, but he’s interrupted by the door opening and James and Remus stepping into the bedroom. The two men pause, not expecting to find either you or Sirius here, but as they see the sadness and pain on Sirius’s face, they immediately drop their school bags.

“You missed it”, Sirius chuckled, trying to hide his upset behind humour, “She called me an emotional prick, and the waterworks started”. James and Remus gave him sad smiles, but neither fell for the attempt to change the subject as both sat either side of him on the bed. Remus reached for him first, stroking his scarred fingers through the strands of dark hair that had fallen over Sirius’ face, but only so he could kiss the area beneath. Sirius closed his eyes at the touch and leaned into it, releasing a deep sigh through his open mouth.

James grabbed each of his hands, lifting them to his lips to kiss the palms lovingly and rest them on either side of his cheeks, nuzzling into his hands. “Whatever is going on, you know we’re always here for you, Sirius”, James mutters against the palms on his face.

Sirius sighs even heavier as if trying to will the anxiety away through the breaths. “It’s my parents. I mean, should I even call them parents when they’ve already disowned me? But they’ve just sent me more threats today after what happened with Regulus yesterday. They say things like I should have let him win and wish that I had been hurt.”

He takes a moment to compose himself as you grab one of his hands from James, needing to link your fingers together and squeeze to know that it is a safe place for him to continue and talk. Sirius looked into his lap as he spoke, “They’ve burnt my face off the Black family tree. Not that I care; I expected it, but it just all feels so real now, you know? I feel like I shouldn’t even be using the surname Black with how much they detest me. I also kind of expected Regulus to have my back a little bit, but he’s young; I can’t expect that from him, especially as I know what my parents are like, but he doesn’t even say hi to me in the corridors anymore. I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little all over the place, and with the positivity yesterday, just to have my family metaphorically kick me to the curb again, I should have expected the joy wouldn’t last long”.

Sirius sounded empty and emotionless as he expressed how he was genuinely feeling, struggling to come to terms with the repercussions of the events that occurred with his family that continue to affect him.

“Fuck them”, James says with all the venom and confidence that he could muster. Sirius grunts half-heartedly at the declaration, not seemingly convinced, so James turns his face towards him so that he is looking into the stormy hazel eyes. “I’m being serious, fuck them. You’ve been my family for years now; you know my parents consider you their son as much as I am. Nothing has changed. You live with me and my parents because that is your home. Wherever any of us go is your home because we love you. We wouldn’t make you feel half as rotten as those scumbags, do you understand?”

Sirius nods, swallowing thickly, causing his Adam’s apple to bob. Before he can respond, Remus once again holds onto his face, turning him in the other direction to look at the calmest Marauder. “Sirius, next time you receive a letter from them, don’t open it. They are cruel humans who have no love for anyone but themselves and the prejudices that they live by. You had so much joy and love in your heart; don’t let them destroy you and ruin everything you cherish. And that is exactly what James has said. You’re our family. We’re each other's family. You’re ours, just like you’re mine. Get it?”

Sirius’ eyes have dried as he looks up at Remus, and briefly, a genuine smile welcomes across his face as he leans in to kiss him deeply but then pulls back.

Squeezing his hand, you draw his attention towards you. “You deserve the surname Black more than anyone because it’s what makes you, you—breaking the stereotypes of those evil people and making it mean something that doesn't symbolise hatred. However, if you want to have another surname, you can! Sirius, you’re your own person, and your surname doesn’t define you. You could even make up a whole new name! Maybe you could have one of our surnames”, Sirius laughs at the possibility of a name change. “I love you so much. Your family's opinions of you aren’t how anyone else in the castle sees you. You’re perfect the way you are, Mr Black”.

You couldn’t wait any more time to kiss him, needing to feel his lips against yours and reassure him further with these intimate touches.  Thankfully, to your pounding heart, he smiles into the kiss.

“Maybe we could put all of our surnames together”, he jokes as you move to kiss each of his cheeks. 

“If that’s what you want, I’d do it”, you reassure him with a kiss on his temple.

“Almost sounds like a proposal”, he casually mentions, causing your heartbeat to increase rapidly. Sirius smirks at your face but reassures, “Maybe we’ll sort out surnames once we’ve finished our exams”. You press your lips against his once more for reassurance until he looks between the three of you. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do if it weren’t for you three. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed before coming to Hogwarts, let alone feel love like this”.

Remus could see the tears pooling along Sirius’ lashline, so he gently cupped the side of his head, wiping away any that fell. “No more tears for them”. The gap between their lips was closed as Remus kissed him passionately, holding the back of his head carefully as they breathed each other in.

Sirius’ head dips slightly, but only to whisper against the man’s lips, “Can you make me forget? Please?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do, Sirius”. Remus kisses him again but with more urgency, pushing his body back until Sirius is lying in the centre of the bed with the taller Marauder hovering above him. Their mouths moved together as one, tongues twirling together, heads tilting one way and then the other.

As Remus distracts and devours him with his mouth, Sirius’ hands move around the back of his head, holding him close, which gives James the freedom to move his hands to Sirius’ shirt. With a simple flick of his fingers, James could undo the buttons down the centre of his chest, releasing the toned chest and abdomen of the man whose legs you were sitting between.

You watched with the sadness seeping away and becoming replaced with arousal as James leaned over and licked the nipples of the man who moaned into Remus’ mouth. James was calculated with his movements, making sure to leave teasing licks and bites over the areas that Sirius was most sensitive whilst then worshipping the perked nipples on his chest, his hands caressing the areas where fine dark hair was beginning to grow back from being previous shaved, mainly the snail trail leading beneath his trousers.

Smiling whilst watching them all move together, you were gifted the view of watching the tightness forming in his trousers as his cock grew hard and thick. Without any rush and admiring the desperate moans coming from the man on his back, you began to stroke up his thighs, over his crotch and pausing over his zipper.

Undoing it slowly, you waited to see if Sirius was even aware of what you were doing as he was so distracted with James and  Remus. However, with the sudden lift of his hips to help you pull the material down his hips, you knew he was very much aware of your intentions.

Freeing his cock from the restraint of his trousers and boxers, you watched as Sirius lowered his hips back onto the bed, and his member now throbbed on his abdomen, thick and hard. A pearly drip of precum had already formed at the tip, and you were quick to hold the base, lifting the cock until your lips were wrapped around him.

Your movements continue to be gentle and soft. Licking and sucking without any rush to build the tension and hopefully show how much you worship the ground he walks on by paying particular attention to him when he needs it most. James continues to tweak his nipples, and Remus devours his mouth, absorbing every little moan until Sirius needs to pull back to suck in air.

“Fuck, you’re all- Fuck!” Remus distracts him with his mouth once more, dominating him entirely and causing more whimpers to burst from his chest. The veiny length that was being leisurely sucked in your mouth began to harden further, throbbing as you knew he was approaching closer to his orgasm as your hands fondled his balls.

“So good for us, aren’t you, Sirius? Say it, tell us you’re ours”, James demands, pulling on the back of Remus’ hair so that Sirius can tell the group how he is feeling.

“Yes! I’m yours, I’m all of yours! I’m cumming, holy shit!” he shouts out desperately, face scrunching up like he is in pain but is actually experiencing the opposite as overwhelming pleasure pooled in his abdomen.

You moan around his cock, causing it to vibrate slightly against your tongue as his hot seed begins to coat your throat. You swallow every salty, thick liquid drop until you’re popping off and looking up at his half-lidded, satisfied grin.

James and Remus give you room to crawl up his body to kiss him sweetly. The three of you watch and admire as he comes down from the high, carefully tucking his half-hard cock back into his trousers and doing up the zipper once more.

“Thank Merlin that we have no classes this afternoon”, Sirius jokes as he rests back on the pillows with his arm behind his head. You laugh and collapse onto his chest, hugging him closely as the four of you sit in comfortable silence. You listened to the thump of his heart beneath your ear, but after a while, it increased in speed as he became restless.

“Can I tell you all a secret? I’ve um… I’ve kept all of the threatening letters they’ve sent to me, " Sirius admits as he carefully pulls out of the hug to climb out of bed and dig his way through the suitcase with his name on the side. From within, he pulls out a large stack of letters that are all opened and in the same shade of emerald as the one earlier this morning.

“You kept them all? Oh, Sirius”, you say in shock, only guessing what horrible, hateful words are written on those pieces of paper.

Sirius awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed, “Yeah. I don’t know why. Some weird part of me thought that if I burned them all, they would know and come to the school or something. But, I want to get rid of them if you’ll all help me?”

Neither of you have to answer as you climb out of the bed. After dressing appropriately, the four of you walked down to the lake, where Remus carved a hole into the soil. Sirius chucks the letters within as you all form a semi-circle.

Holding onto his left hand, Sirius raised his wand to the right, pointing it towards the letters and shouting ‘Incendio’. The four of you stand together as the letters burn. Sirius sighs shakily as he holds back tears. “It’s weird. I know people say it’s like a weight off your shoulders, but it genuinely does feel like that”.

“That’s because you’re free, Padfoot!” James shouts enthusiastically, grabbing the boy around the waist and lifting him into the air, hollering and whooping until Sirius laughs. The two crash to the ground as Remus throws his arm around your shoulders, watching the pair finally have some fun today as the smoke billows into the air surrounding you, the ash from those horrible words written on the paper disappearing across the Scottish mountains.

[monikatouhou]

Ran Yakumo Simulator 2023

[CORE_SOUL: On]

You are nowhere. There is nothing.

In truth, you are likely in your body, hopefully where you last left it, but you cannot tell at this time.

[DIVINATION_MODULE_v3.5: On] - It will take eight minutes to gain visual input in the right eye. It will take an hour and five minutes for [AUX_AUDIT_PROC_v9] to come online. Heat a tortoise shell and observe the cracks for more information.

You are glad Lady Yukari made it so that this is what typically comes online first. It usually gives you something to look forward to. Though it would perhaps be nicer to be able to see or move first. However, you know from experience that these are some of the more difficult parts of a shikigami to make work.

[CHEN_CONNECTION_v12: On] - She is fast asleep. No further information.

This is the only part of yourself that you made largely on your own. Naturally, it is the least functional. It was worse in the past though.

[...]

[ROCK_GAP_SIMULACRUM: On]

In place of this there used to be a gap connection to the outside world. Lady Yukari called it a "Load Bearing Coconut", even though it was clearly connected to a rock. However, it apparently shattered last year, which of course caused practically everything to either malfunction or break completely. This is a replacement she made. This increased loading time, as did all the previous band-aid fixes over the last several centuries.

[...]

[OLD_REPURPOSED_MODULE_(REPLACE_THIS): On]

[SENSE_INPUT_BUS: On]

[SMELL: On]

[VISION_R: On]

The left eye for some reason always takes at least a few more minutes to come online. Lady Yukari has not been able to explain why that is to you.

You know that you are in fact in your room, and you know that eight minutes have passed. Little you can do with this information for now, since you still cannot move.

You should change your duvet cover later today. This one needs to be washed.

[PROPRIOCEPTION: On]

[TASTE: On]

[SOMATOSENSORY: On]

Your eyes are very dry, much like every morning. They open automatically when you first awake, but you can only blink voluntarily. Not an urgent fix, since this cannot cause you any damage, it's just unpleasant.

[FIXUPS_v3: On]

For the time being, you are stuck staring at the ceiling. Yukari told you once that body motion and eye motion are controlled largely separately in humans, but this is not the case in your body. You cannot move your eyes until the bodily output bus comes online.

[...]

[FIXUPS_B_v5.5: On]

[MOTOR_CONTROL_CORE_v4: On]

This part will help you coordinate your movements once you are able to move.

[FIXUPS_C_v4: On]

[MOTORICS_STABILISER_v2: On]

[...]

[BODILY_OUTPUT_BUS: On]

[GAP: On]

At long last. You blink and rub your eyes in an attempt to get rid of the dryness. You finally sit up. You get up from your bed.

What is this gap for, in any case?

You should probably start going about your day.

You look around your room for what might be your hairbrush. None of your visual processing modules are on yet, and so identifying objects is difficult. Also, your left eye is taking a while to start working. Nevertheless you find what you figure is a brush - it is about the correct lenght, has one thinner part that may be a handle, and a wider part bearing what might be the hairs. Using the same memorized motions you've used for centuries, you brush your hair.

Maybe you should leave your room. Might be good to try to cook something, or if your object identification processing module isn't on yet by then, maybe get a drink.

You walk towards what seems like a door. You look over it to make sure it is not your closet door. The shape of the handle seems right for the one you are looking for, so you start walking towards it.

[FIXUP_OVERHAUL_v0.99: On]

Suffering a momentary lapse of consciousness, you crash right into the door, and fall onto the floor.

This was an attempt of Lady Yukari's to eventually replace all the overly big "fixup" modules with some more streamlined implementation. This giant module, currently attached somewhere around the other fixup and motorics modules, is the result. Frankly, you would be better off without it.

You get back up and open the door.

[VISION_L: On]

[SPEECH_MOTORICS_v2: On]

Took a while. You walk out of your room and head to the kitchen, using your mental map of the house, walking carefully, since your ability to notice obstacles by sight is still impaired.

You enter what you're fairly sure is the kitchen. Probably best you do not cook just yet. You remember Yukari recently purchased some outside world drink. You could try that, to pass the time.

It is bottled, so you look for a bottle, and a glass to pour the drink into. You find objects identifiable as such.

You pour yourself a glass. Isn't this smell strange? You take a sip..

You spit it out. This is vinegar. This was not the right bottle.

[AUX_VISUAL_PROC_OBJECTS_IDENT_v4: On]

This would have been very useful a few seconds ago.

[STAR_MAP_HD: On]

[CLOCK: On] - It is 7:21:30.2912 am

You are unsure what the star chart is for, and every time you asked Yukari, she just chuckled and refused to answer.

You hear a sound behind you in the kitchen. Laughter?

You look in the direction of the sound. The source of it is some sort of person. You cannot tell apart faces yet, but they are wearing one of Yukari's dresses and have blond hair, and so you easily conclude this is probably Lady Yukari.

YAKUMO YUKARI - [Unintelligible]

You cannot yet process speech, so you don't know what she is saying.

YOU - "I'm sorry, Lady Yukari. My auditory processor is not on yet, and so I cannot understand you."

The person you presumed is Lady Yukari laughs again.

You sigh.

You used to be able to do a lot of this processing with the core soul alone, didn't you? Has your core just lost its functions, as it could rely on all the auxiliary processors?

Not that it matters.

You come back to the stove to cook breakfast for yourself, Lady Yukari and Chen. By the time you are done, most modules should be on.

[messiahzzz]

as much as i dislike the dialogue option that leads to this scene, i genuinely appreciate gale's response. it is easy to overlook what he is actually trying to convey here and is instead commonly dismissed as him being "overdramatic" or as a display of his bruised ego.

player: it was fine. gale: i see. gale: well, fine is... fine. nobody weeps because the weather is fine. no monarchs were overthrown because their ruling was fine. no artworks were burned because they were not masterpieces, but merely fine. player: would you have rather i lied? gale: the dignified thing for me to say is 'no. of course not. forthrightness before all.' but honestly? yes... i would have rather you lied. gale: i'm just a man. an imperfect one, with needs, wants, and flaws by the bushel. a fragile vessel in which to place potentially world-ending power. gale: perhaps it would be better to not shake such a vessel. gale: forgive me. these were already trying times before elminster delivered his missive. now, for me at least, they are potentially end times.

gale is no stranger to introspection. despite having his natural blindspots, he is fully aware of his flaws and imperfections. he lacks an inherent sense of self-preservation, displays impatience on occasion, can be hypocritical, has trouble handling pointed criticism well, and has a tendency to respond in passive aggression if he feels his competence is brought into question. he seeks admiration and is known to not honor his limitations and own safety for the sake of receiving praise.

gale: [...] people have always commented on my confidence, sometimes my over-confidence, and in one particularly cut throat assessment at university - my 'abject and incorrigible self-delusion.'

gale is not blind to how he is perceived by others, nor does he dismiss their conclusions without careful consideration. instead of deflecting he simply takes what they dish out and files it away for later contemplation and inspection.

player: because you acted the idiot. and paid the price for it too. gale: as always, i endeavor to be invigorated by your candour, rather than eviscerated by it. gale: blunt as your summation is - it's correct. i dared to call myself an archmage while acting the apprentice. the hallmarks of a most excellent idiot, unfortunately.

player: i can't say i share the same high opinion of you, gale. gale: always bringing such candour to our conversations. some would think twice about mocking gale of waterdeep, but you just go straight for the gut. nodecontext: playing along, making fun of himself gale: i like that about you. it's one of your rarer qualities, though i fear my ego can take no more of it tonight. nodecontext: cheerfully accepting the brush off, not taking it personally

needs, wants, and flaws by the bushel.

gale craves as mortals do. for relevance, safety, consideration, loyalty, care, acceptance, and love. he's desperate, he's angry, he's petty and hurt and lonely. he's contradictory, and at times inconsistent. he's afraid, he stumbles, he yearns. if he loves, he does so with all his heart but forgets to extend the same love to himself. he gains understanding only to disregard it later. he is absorbed yet devoted. he expects kindness but is bewildered when it is extended to him in turn. he's neither a perfect colleague, a perfect companion, a perfect lover, nor a perfect husband. he's just another human who's trying to navigate and make sense of the world. who is silently hoping for his soul to be handled with tenderness and care, to finally be seen for who he is —no need for performance or pretense — and to be unconditionally cherished nonetheless.

a fragile vessel in which to place potentially world-ending power.

he knows the burden he carries. understanding that even a momentary lapse in judgment could spell catastrophe if he doesn't exert tight control over his emotions at all times. he knows what is at stake should he lose the composure he painstakingly had to master. a mere moment is all it takes. this self-assessment isn't an "indirect threat" intended to subject pressure on tav or solicit pity, it's a stark acknowledgment of the truth. he is a fragile human, housing powers that should've never been his in the first place.

player: unbelievable. did you ever think what would happen if the tadpole got the better of you? gale: every waking moment. every dreaming moment too. but there was no way out.

he is also keenly aware of how his (former) colleagues perceive him, following his fall from grace.

player: bold. few would dare to reduce a goddess to their 'muse.' gale: i am, after all, the villain of the tale.

this line in particular is one i often think about. it makes me wonder about the extent of information gale received from the outside world after locking himself in his tower for an entire year, setting magical wards so no one but tara would be able to enter. did he hear the whispers? ("shunned by the goddess of magic herself, of course, it was only a matter of time before he flew too close to the sun.") were his colleagues ridiculing him, applauding mystra for cutting off the rot at the source? how did he arrive at the assumption that he is perceived as "the villain" and not the victim?

player: you must have been lonely, with only tara for company.. gale: sometimes. but i imposed it upon myself, after all. i set up enough wards to keep an army at bay, never mind the few colleagues who sought to inquire about my welfare.

or is this solely his own harsh judgment of his folly? that there is no chance anyone would meet him with sympathy, kindness and understanding after what he had wrought. he was too greedy, too impatient — selfish in arrogance, ravenous in ambition. letting delusions of grandeur guide him. he brought it all upon himself with his lack of patience. entirely convinced of his success and skill, blind to the possibility of failure. now doomed to drag innocents into the abyss with him. the hallmarks of a villain, right? after all, who would truly believe him that his ambition hid no ill will?

players: by rights. i should kill you. gale: perhaps that is what i deserve, but you deserve no such thing. [...]

[ineffableaddiction]

A Theory?

I had a strange thought as I was watching Good Omens for the 1,462nd time.

In A Companion to Owls, there are a lot of crossover references. For instance….

When God is speaking to Job, Crowley indicates to Aziraphale that just being able to ask a question of God, even if they don’t answer, is something he’d want.

In S1, we see Crowley asking questions to God directly. In S2, he and Job are the only ones shown speaking directly to God.

Also in the same minisode, the pattern of Crowley “tempting” or rewarding Aziraphale with food (and eventually drink) begins.

I wonder if Aziraphale’s love of food is because food reminds him of that day.

Phase 2 of Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship began that day. Both of them recognized that they were the same - the only ones from both sides that only went along with their respective side as far as they could. This brought them even closer. They both risked so much to save a few children.

It was the first time post-fall that Crowley and Aziraphale worked together. This would continue, with some push and pull, until… well, forever.

This is also where trust begins to build in earnest, at least post-fall.

There’s also this:

God: Can you send lightening bolts and get them to report back to you?

Has this been something Crowley’s always been able to do, or is he gaining skills to possibly get answers from God one day? (Why was I discarded?)

Which leads me to a weird question….

What if God had a bet with Satan about Crowley and Aziraphale?

Hear me out. Crowley has pre-fall memory lapses. He has been on Earth since the beginning, even though both God and Satan must know that he’s not doing the evil that one would expect from a demon. He rarely gets in trouble for any of his good deeds.

Aziraphale, likewise, has been on Earth since the beginning of. As with Crowley, Aziraphale rarely gets reprimanded by heaven, even though he’s “thwarting the will of God.”

I’m thinking, because Crowley and Aziraphale had established some form of attachment (even if minor) that perhaps Crowley was sent to hell with the fallen angels, even if he didn’t necessarily “deserve “ it per God and Satan’s bet.

Would Crowley corrupt Aziraphale and make him fall? Would Aziraphale bring Crowley back to heaven?

And what if, because Aziraphale and Crowley are THEM, and they love each other for who they are, this game, or bet, failed.

Our ineffable duo instead created something no one anticipated. They became an US.

[transform4u]

My friend and I growing up used to be super close. Gradually, we grew apart- he became our college's star hockey player and I got really into my academics. We'd still hang out at times and catch up. But of course, when I came out as gay, he grew even more distant. He's definitely more conservative and all for traditional values. I'm wondering if there's anything that can be done to help us get closer or make him more accepting?

The ping of your cellphone slices through the comfort of your lazy afternoon, snapping you out of your couch-induced trance. You glance at the screen and see your friend’s text: “You bro, come and join us at the bar. It’ll be fun!” You roll your eyes, half annoyed by the thought of hanging out with his hockey buddies, but you’re about to decline when another message pops up: “Bro! Come be a part of the team for once.”

A sharp, almost electric snnnaaaaaapppp echoes in your head. It feels like a burst of static electricity that jolts your brain. The noise reverberates through your skull, amplifying until it’s a persistent hum, gradually morphing into a dull, throbbing headache. And yet, despite the growing discomfort, an involuntary thrill courses through you. Without thinking, your fingers tap out an eager, “Sure dude!” in response.

You leap off the couch with a surprising surge of energy. It’s as if the weight of your weariness has been replaced by a sudden, almost manic vigor. As you stand, the noise in your head escalates—crowds roaring, cheers echoing, and the grunts of men clashing on the ice. It feels as if your entire mind is vibrating with the chaotic excitement of a hockey game, and you’re caught in the thrall of it.

As you head out toward the bar, you don’t notice the subtle transformation occurring in your stride. There’s a noticeable swagger to your step now, a confident bounce that wasn’t there before. Your body starts to change almost imperceptibly at first. Your muscles swell, gaining size and definition with every step. Your biceps grow fuller and more defined, bulging with newfound strength. Your chest expands, the pecs pushing out like armor. Your abs harden into a chiseled six-pack, each muscle segment sharply defined. Your quads expand and become more solid, each muscle twitching and flexing with power. The sensation is intense—painful yet exhilarating—as your old, less impressive physique burns away, replaced by this powerful new form.

The noise in your head morphs again. Your face gradually hardens into a more brutish, battle-scarred visage, a look that suggests you’ve seen and survived many fights. A cocky, self-assured sneer spreads across your face, reflecting a confidence that borders on arrogance. Your thoughts shift from academic pursuits to the roar of sports and the adrenaline of the game.

The intellectual details that once occupied your mind fade into the background. Instead, your brain is awash with the sounds of hockey games, strategies, and workout techniques. You can vividly picture the muscles working and straining. Your biceps curl with power, your quads flex with a thrilling strength, each movement of your body is a testament to raw physicality. Your mind is filled with knowledge of how to perfect each muscle group—details that were once part of a distant realm of fitness now dominate your thoughts.

As you step into the bar, dark thoughts of asserting dominance, of being the loudest and most impressive presence in the room, draw you closer. The old self fades away, replaced by a new identity. Your body and mind are now perfectly aligned with the persona of the ultimate bro—loud, confident, and entirely absorbed in the thrill of the moment. You feel a surge of energy as you stride into the bar, your friend's voice cutting through the din. "Sidney! Sids, over here bro!" The name feels foreign for a moment, but then you chuckle. Of course that's your name, you think, shaking your head at your own momentary lapse. You make your way over to your buddies, who are already hooting and hollering at the hockey game playing on the big screen TVs. As you plop down on the barstool next to them, you feel it shift under your weight. These muscles are no joke, you think to yourself with a smirk, flexing your bicep subtly.

Your friend leans over to you, his eyes glued to the scantily clad waitress making her way through the crowd. "Dude, check out the tits on that waitress," he says with a wolfish grin. You shake your head, rolling your eyes. He knows you're gay, but the moment you lock eyes with the waitress's ample cleavage, it's like a switch flips in your brain. Suddenly, your faggy lifestyle feels like a distant memory, a bad dream you've finally woken up from. "Broooooo!" you shout back at him, slapping him on the back. "I need to motorboat those puppies!"

You and your friend fall into easy conversation, your thoughts twisting and turning to match the conservative, traditional values of your hockey team. You feel a surge of pride as you think about them dominating on the ice, hollering and cheering with your buddies. When the waitress comes back around, you demand a round of shots for you and your bros, your voice booming over the din of the bar. The waitress looks at you with a mix of fear and awe, her eyes widening at the sight of your bulging muscles. You smirk, feeling powerful and in control.

As the night goes on, you find yourself getting more and more into the game, your blood pumping with adrenaline and alcohol. You're on your feet, shouting and cheering with your friends, the rest of the bar fading away until it's just you and your team on the ice. You feel a sense of belonging, of camaraderie, that you've never felt before. This is where you're meant to be, you think, surrounded by your bros, supporting your team, living life to the fullest. You raise your shot glass in a toast, your voice ringing out over the crowd. "To the boys!" you shout, downing the shot in one gulp. "Let's fucking dominate!"

[beefrobeefcal]

an Ezra & Cricket One Shot: Brass Knuckled Debauchee Summary: Ezra, after abusing your healing talents, returns to make good on his debt... for a price.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 4,752

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, fingering (f receiving), weight gain, eating, edging, soft!dom Ezra being an overall ass, teasing, begging, crying, malfunctioning prosthetic limb, the occasional swear

Author's Notes: requested by two (count'em - 2!) lovely babes for the 900 Friendo Celebration - thank you to @xdaddysprincessxx and @morallyinept for bringing Ezra some love.

Huge thank you to @strang3lov3 , @noxturnalpascal & @bitchesuntitled for their beta badass skills and to my ever lovely beta fish, @neverwheremoonchild. None of you will understand the depths of gratitude I hold you all in.

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

You’d cared for him when his appendage was newly parted from his person, after a young woman dumped him off at your meagre midwife’s centre.  

You hadn’t delivered a baby in at least eight cycles, but you were busy tending to broken bones and crushed limbs from the mine nearby, so the idea of caring for a wound caused by a missing arm wasn’t far from your everyday.  

What was far from the standard men in your care was that this one wouldn’t shut up. Truly. You’d never met someone so close to death spew such a narrative. You almost wished to have him out of his misery just to stop his linguistic vomit.  

Thank Kevva for sedatives.  

You didn’t even want to know his name, worried that if you had his, he’d need yours and there was no way someone this sick and wounded that could carry on like he’s memorized a thesaurus wasn’t capable of performing a hex or a curse on you. 

After three blessedly quiet and devoid-of-narration days, the open wound where his arm once hung from was no longer festering and the fever that wracked his body broke. Despite your own desire to keep him silent, you stopped administering such a high dose of the sedative, and you allowed him to regain consciousness.  

For the first little while, all you heard was his steady, deep breathing, so you left the room to grab some water and liquified sustenance for him, figuring that when he would finally come to, he’d be hungry. 

“To what do… do I owe the pleasure?”, you heard croaked as you walked softly back into the room.  

“Oh good…”, you replied flatly. “You’re awake and talking.” 

The remainder of his stay that time had revolved around you doing what you could to keep his mouth occupied enough to keep it quiet; you fed him. By the time he’d left, he’d made you aware of his name – Ezra – and bestowed a nickname on you for lack of giving your own. Cricket. He then made the terrible promise to return to see you and left with a wink and a smile.  

Your whole body bristled at the thought of having to deal with him again. 

***** 

The first return visit he made, his confidence and vocabulary were still obnoxiously inflated. Whining of a bruised rib, you resumed your frustrated feeding to keep him down to two to three sentences and responses between mouthfuls.  

The second time he returned, he stated that he had been ‘brutalized by a deviant, one who you should not even be told of his true form else your fragile and virtuous mind be stained’. There wasn’t a single mark on him, save for a bite on his only arm that looked to be self-inflicted. He enjoyed himself, smiling between bites of food. 

By the third visit – complaining of a sprained toe - you knew that he knew that you knew what you were doing - and vice versa. Despite this, you fed him, and he ate very well. After several days of ‘healing’, he hauled himself up and it was then that you noted his flight suit looking like it was getting tighter around his middle.  

Those visits happened in a fairly rapid succession, but a longer period – more than six cycles at least - lapsed before he darkened your doorway and approached your desk once again. Without even looking up, you knew it was him, having heard his cavalier long-form salutations being crooned out at anyone he passed approaching your unit. 

“What now?”, you sighed in irritation, dropping your head into your hand, not bothering to look up at him – something you would come to regret to save yourself future embarrassment. You didn’t see him close your door and lock it behind him.  

He approached your desk, and his hand came into view along with a mechanical one; the smooth-as-silk tongued devil was now outfitted with a prosthetic arm that looked like it had been stolen from a brass skeleton and had gears added. Your eyes followed the mechanical limb up to the hem of his shortened sleeve, hiding the joint between it and what remained of his actual arm. The new colour of his clothing caught your attention, too, pulling your eyes to his torso. Yes, it was definitely a different colour. He was no longer in the moss greens and soil browns you’d associated with him. Now, he was in a dark blue flight suit with a gold zipper that looked to just be barely holding together.  

Your brain paused to take in what was in front of you.  

“No more chirps for me, sweet Cricket?” 

His raspy, southern drawl sounded sweeter than you’d noticed before as your eyes took in the added weight on his middle. Before looking up to his face, you noted the way the zipper rippled from the strain and the clear indent his belly button made as the fabric pulled taut across his expanse.  

His face. As soon as you took it in, you regretted not doing it first. He’s held you in his big brown eyes’ gaze before, but you’d been able to avoid being trapped. But this time you couldn’t help but let them absorb you. His smile widened as he slightly leaned forward, arms putting further weight on your desk.  

“You seem at a loss for word, Crick-“ 

“You’ve been eating well.”, you managed to croak out in a somewhat aloof-sounding voice, nodding towards his middle.  

He didn’t shrink back at your comment; instead, it seemed to embolden him.  “You started me on a path of decadence that a mere man such as myself isn’t able to easily shake.” 

He stood to his full height, eyes never leaving yours. “Is that all you noticed?”, he grinned, lifting his brass appendage, bringing the crude and simple brass hand to his face, smoothing over his moustache.  

Your lips parted then closed and parted again before you were able to spit out, “I saw y-… I see you got a new… limb.” 

His eyes gleamed at you, seeing his every move had you further in his grasp. You inwardly scowled, chiding yourself on how quickly you were falling under his spell. Narrowing your eyes, you shrugged at him. 

“Looks old.” 

If it stung him, he didn’t show it; he simply kept that smile on his face and continued to look down at you from across the desk. “I’m not its first owner.” 

The pleasantries had only lasted a few more moments before Ezra moved around your desk and hovered over you. 

“I’m here to return the favour, Cricket.” 

“...Favour?” 

“For all the hard work you put into bringing me back to my full health.”, he cooed lowly as his brass hand cooled your cheek with its feather-light touch.  

“It’s nothing... I was just doing my j - “ 

He leaned over you further, cheshire grin pulled menacingly across his face. His voice slipped into a lower pitch and his eyes darted from your eyes to your mouth.  

“Doing your job would have been to send me away when I appeared with erroneous and fabricated injuries and illnesses. You, my sweet Cricket, stepped over and above the threshold of your employment and I intend to repay you for your sweetness in full.” 

You sucked in a few shallow breaths and nervously swallowed. This was a side of him you hadn't seen, assuming that he was a submissive and pliant brat who’d chosen you to dote on him. But no. There was no favour he intended to pay back. He was just sizing you up and wrangling you into his web, and now he was out loud declaring that you were his prey. His eyes were dark and fixed on you, in contrast with the gentle smile on his face.  

“Don’t be nervous, sweet Cricket. You can tend to your own wounds afterwards. Now, let me hear you chirp.” 

His brass arm shot out and gripped your wrist tightly and he pulled you from your seat. Dragging you to the maternity room, he tossed you onto the low soft bed.  

“Ezra!”, you squeaked as your body hit the push mattress below you.  

He dropped to his knees and crawled up, forcing your legs apart, and his belly barely grazed your middle as his face lined up with yours. You let out an involuntary whimper. 

“Oh, sweet Cricket. How badly I wanted you on your back, making those sweet vocalizations your namesake promised me.” 

His flesh and bone hand gently grazed your face and moved to the back of your head, softly fisting your hair, forcing your head to stay still as he traced his nose along the contours of your face. His eyes remained half lidded and he watched as your own rolled back when he pushed his knee into the crux of your thighs, knowing he had all but your verbal consent.  

“This is all you need, sweet Cricket? Someone to light the way?” 

All you can muster as his hold on your hair tightened and his knee applied more pressure was a light whine through your parted lips.  

You wanted to respond, but the moment you opened your mouth, Ezra’s brass arm made a clunk sound and began to shudder.  

“Oh, for Kevva’s sake.”, he muttered, sitting up on his knees as he examined the arm. It made a mechanical sound before it shuddered again, then a higher pitched noise droned as the arm vibrated.  

You watched him sitting between your parted legs as the realization of what he had at his disposal dawned on him. Your eyes widened as he turned and looked at you like a starved man with a wild grin.  

“Sweet Cricket, I think I could go for a bite to eat.” 

***** 

Once you’d gotten some finger foods together and brought them back into the room, you found Ezra laid back in a mountain of pillows on the bed. He nodded his head towards you and raised his hand, beckoning you to him.  

“Come on, Cricket. Tend to your weary traveller.” 

His eyes were glued to you, cascading up and down your form, as you hand fed him. He’d had a few pieces of the savoury pastries when you felt the cool touch of his brass hand slide between your thighs.  

“Curious...”, he mused as he chewed. “… that when I make a certain motion with my appendage, it malfunctions in such an amusing manner that I know you will find benefit in, pet.” 

Your brows furrow in question and before you can ask how that could benefit you in any way, the arm made that clunk sound again. You felt the vibration between your thighs and your eyes widened.  

“Ez – oh fuck!”, you gasped as he pushed his knuckle up against your mound and held it there firmly. 

Your mouth was open, allowing shallow panting breaths to puff out and your eyes were closed with your brows pinched as the shuddering vibrations pulsed against you. You’d never felt anything like this before in your life and you thanked Kevva.  

The low amber tones of his voice cut through to you and pulled you out of your silent prayer. “Now, sweet Cricket. We are both here to derive enjoyment from one another given we both now have the intel on each other’s vices. You can’t go holding out on me to seek your fruition – that is not fair.” 

He pulled his hand from contacting your core, and your eyes snapped to his, a pleading whimper bubbling out from your pouting lips.  

“Uh-uh, Cricket. We will play fair.”, he growled in warning. His smile dropped as his features darkened, and he nodded towards your suspended hand holding a small meat-filled pastry. “Don’t you dare hold out on me.” 

Shakily, you brought the morsel to his mouth and as he took it in and let his tongue touch your finger, his hand once again pressed against your core. 

***** 

Ezra had continued to eat and finished over half of platter. But every time you started to get close to your peak, he would pull his hand away, leaving you a shaking mess. 

“P-please… Ezra, please!”, you begged mere seconds away from ecstasy.  

“I am not finished, sweet Cricket.”, he said with a mouthful. “You will be sated when I have found my fill, and we are not yet there.” 

You could have screamed at him, strangled him in a rage. “Ezra please! I - ”. 

The warning look he gave you stopped any further pleading. Your mind reeled, trying to find some way to get relief. You could kick him out and try to finish yourself off with your fingers, but you knew it would be fruitless; you’d never gotten this worked up on your own before and you doubt that you had anything in this clinic that vibrated at that frequency.  

As you trembled and panted, Ezra watched, amused at how clearly you were seeking a solution to the problem he’d created for you.  

“Cricket…”, he cooed, soothing his biological hand up your arm and to your face. He gently guided your chin towards him. “Sweet Cricket, come back to me.” 

When your frantic gaze met his, his eyes softened and creased as he smiled. “I will not leave you unfinished. I repay my debts, darling nurse.” 

You sighed in defeat, nodded, and took a deep breath. Your eyes trailed down to his noticeably rounder middle that made the already strained zipper pull at the seams of the fabric. He shifted in what looked like discomfort.  

You put down the current half-filled plate of food and reached for the zipper tag, tugging it down. It only got to the beginning of the swell of his belly before you met resistance. You tugged a little harder, but it wouldn’t budge. 

“Suck it in.” 

“Now, Cricket, let’s not be hast-“ 

“I said suck it in.”, you snapped back far more forcefully than intended.  

Ezra froze then nodded. “Sweet girl, I will try, but…”  You saw his middle pull in slightly. “… the profound conundrum I experienced in getting it on…” 

The zipper finally moved, and he groaned as his stomach expanded. “Sweet Kevva… such relief.” 

You were desperate for him to touch you again, but seeing him fat and swollen before you, knowing it was your work that was filling him out. Ezra watched your gaze turn hungry and almost feral. Granted, he felt that way as he watched you teeter on the edge of falling apart over and over. He wasn’t ready to let the power he held over you go, giving him the drive to get through, bite by bite. But that power began to slip the moment his vulnerable and considerably rounder middle exposed, and it left him feeling uneasy and unsure. 

“A change of flavour… is needed, my sweet Cricket.”, Ezra crooned, trying to exude as much confidence he could muster, despite his self-consciousness lingering in the back of his mind. He swallowed down a moan as your blown-pupiled eyes met his. He pushed a faux-confident smile and spoke softer. “Something sweeter, perhaps?” 

Letting a small huff escape, you nodded and got up from the bed, cursing him under your breath for having this much power over you. 

As you stood in the small kitchen area, waiting for the food rehydrator to loudly prepare the freeze-dried baked goods, you didn’t hear Ezra huff and grunt as he got off the bed and saunter into the kitchen. You weren’t alerted to his presence until his belly hit your back and his brass hand went to your hip.  

His nose and mouth pressed against the back of your neck, whispering filth as his hand cupped your breast and squeezed. 

“You leave yourself so vulnerable, sweet Cricket... back to the door, not an ounce of concern…. any rapscallion of low morals could take advantage… of your sweet, supple figure…” 

You let out a light, breathy whine gripping his hand as he kneaded your breast. As much as you wanted his hands on you, you wanted his mouth on your own more, so you pushed your body back against his, making enough room between him and the counter for you to turn around. His brass hand stayed on the curve of your waist, not offering any resistance, and his other hand cupped your cheek, holding it in place while he kissed you softly. His lips moved against yours like he was able to read your mind, or maybe even needed this point of contact as badly as you did. His mouth parted and his tongue pushed for entrance into your mouth, and once it was granted, the kiss fevered and boiled over. You felt your core throb with need and want, soaking your pants and already ruined underwear, and he crowded you against the counter. So wrapped up were you in his mouth and teeth and tongue, that you didn’t feel his brass hand move from your waist. 

In one swift move, Ezra shoved your pants down in the front enough for his brass hand to slip with no barrier into your folds. The cool touch you would have expected from it was long forgotten as the metal now met your body temperature. Still engulfed in the kiss that was beginning to rob your breath, the telltale clunk barely registered in your mind until the vibrations started. Sending a jolt through your body, you pulled your face away from his and let out a shrill gasp.  

The timer on the rehydrator went off, and Ezra chuckled darkly, watching your brows draw together and your eyes flutter.  

“The rules stay the same, Cricket. Sweet or savoury, I will have my fill and you will have your petite mort. But one will meet the other at the same time.”, he said in a wickedly soft tenor. “Now, you can begin holding up your end, sweet girl.” 

Once again, Ezra ripped away any power you might have had or believed you had, edging you with each bite, withholding his metal hand’s vibrations from the moment his mouth was empty to the moment your hand shakily pushed another bite past his lips. Overstimulation mixed with the pent-up fury of being denied an orgasm had you panting rapidly, tears threatening to spill over. High pitched whines and shuddering whimpers were all you could produce, and it was music to Ezra’s ears.  

“You… create the most… glorious cricket song…”, he mused softly as he chewed the mouthful. “Keep chirping, sweet girl…” 

You were coming to a point where you weren’t sure you would make it. Your brain felt like it was filled with the static from a communicator’s blank channel and your hearing and sight felt fuzzy. The coil tightening in your cunt was hitting a painful level, causing you to drop the next pastry you’d picked up with your shaking hands. 

As soon as it hit the floor, Ezra tsk’d you, and pulled his hand right out of your pants. The pained sob that burst from you from the loss of contact was loud and harsh, and the tears finally spilled over, staining your cheeks.  

“P-please… I… I can’t!”, you cried out, jutting your hand out clumsily to grab his wrist as he pulled back. His dark eyes scanned your desperate ones, pausing momentarily, before his gaze shifted to one of pity and amusement. 

“You can’t what?”, he mocked with a cruel grin. “Can’t what, sweet Cricket?” 

A rasped and pained whine peeled out of your throat as your head fell to his shoulder, and his hand gripped your hair and pulled back, forcing you to look at him. You looked ruined. Your cheeks flushed and eyes wet and lidded, your lips parted, turned down and chin quivering. He shoved up back and up onto the counter. 

“Oh, come now, sweet Cricket. Don’t look at me like I won’t give you your due.”, he whispered, ghosting his mouth over yours. His brass fingers traced lurid shapes along your inner thighs, causing your body to shiver and that coil painfully wind up in your core once more.  

“I asked you for something sweeter, pet,”, Ezra mockingly cooed as he pulled back, your face involuntarily following his to try and capture his lips against yours. He shook his head, smile tugging at one side of his mouth. “Something sweeter and you dropped it on the floor. It’s precious currency, Cricket, and you mishandled it.” 

Your eyes followed his, stuck in the trance he’d put you under. He could have told you to do anything, given any order and you would have obeyed to your detriment. His brass hand moved to your throat, long, metal fingers grasping just tight enough to keep you precariously seated on the edge of the counter. His thicker middle forced you legs open wide, and his other hand took its place between your legs and without warning, he shoved two fingers into your core.  

Your mouth and eyes widened as a wrecked gasp escaped you and your hands went to grab onto what ever meaty part of him you could grab for stability. Ezra hummed in response as the pads of his fingers felt the walls of your cannel twitch and flutter at his intrusion. 

“Good Kevva, sweet girl…”, he groaned, watching your face contort. “As much as this contraption of a limb can bring me such sadistic joy at your expense, my own digits needed to feel the silken walls of your inner sanctum.” 

As he pumped his fingers in and out of you, he dropped his forehead against yours and hummed again, answering your repeated whining pants and moans.  

“Keep chirping, Cricket… sing me your evening song… that’s it….”  

As you felt your peak come careening in, he felt your walls convulse and slicken up. The soft tenor he’s just lulled you into a steady rhythm with fell away and the low chuckle followed by his fingers being removed made you scream out and dig your nails into the fattened flesh of his upper arm and shoulder. 

“EZ-EZRA! PLEASE! FUCK-PLEASE!”, you sobbed out in a shriek.  

His brass hand’s hold tightened around your throat, and he shoved your shoulders flush with the wall behind counter roughly.  

Your desperate eyes looked him over as best as you could, given the position he had you in. His bloated and full stomach moved with each laboured breath he took and the strain he put himself under to wreck you was fully apparent. You could feel the outline of his clothed hard cock seated against your thigh and the sweat beading on his forehead. He wiped his face and parted his lips to take in deeper breaths; his irises were indiscernible from his pupils as he looked down at you. 

You had never known need like this, and you felt as though you were going to succumb due to your lack of orgasm as a final line in the life that Kevva had written for you. 

“P…please…” 

“Is it my cock you want to be impaled on, pet? You want to whine and mewl while I rut my quiver bone into your sopping celestial cavern?”, he coolly growled, but there was a slight waiver in his voice. You saw the same desperation in the dark abyss of his eyes. 

You nodded dumbly and he scowled, baring his teeth, and tore his brass hand off you, trying to make quick work of getting his flight suit off his shoulders. The arms were tight around his fleshy arms, and you shakily sat up and tried to help. Once his arms were free, you tugged the material over his waist, taking note of the roll of flesh sitting just above his waistband, showing just how much he had been indulging. You gave it a squeeze, revelling in the sound he made, sucking his breath thru his teeth at your fingers.  

“Marvel the fruits of your labour, Cricket… The destination you set me on course to has made me beyond redemption and unfit for galactic adventuring…”, he grunted breathily, shoving his flight suit off his legs before kicking it off entirely. “You have effectively rendered me useless beyond what effect I am able to wield on you.” 

He shoved his mouth against yours before you could respond or ask what he meant, sucking you into a bruising kiss. His hands gripped your hips, pulling your twitching cunt flush with his weeping, hard cock, knocking the plastic plate that held the desserts onto the floor at his feet. Fumbling slightly, he pulled back and gripped his member, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing it in all at once. The sting of his intrusion melded perfectly with the relief of finally connecting, and the sound you made caused Ezra to almost break. His eyes softened and his brows tented, body tense at the gentle yet firm, warm hold you had on him.   

“I’m af-afraid I’ve pushed too far to allow for… for niceties and gentle welcomes, sweet Cricket…”, he panted against your face, teeth clenched as he tried to focus and draw this out as long as possible.  

“Please move...”, you begged in a strained whine.  

“If I move to fast, sweet Cricket, I will... end this fortuitous connection with an... an early release, and that would render me- fuck!... render me less than a gentleman...” 

“You’re no gentleman... now shut up an-and fuck me!” 

It seemed that your tight walls and frantic begging were too much for Ezra, and he pulled out with a grunt, followed by a whine as he came onto the plate on the floor. The vulgar sounds of his panting breaths mixed with the sploot of his spend had you seeing red. 

“You asshole!”, you screeched, shoving him off you.  

He panted and held his hands up in surrender as you charged at him. 

“Cricket... forgive me! You’re too sweet... your sacred cavern was too - “ 

The slap you landed across his face stopped his fancy wordplay. “You fucking bastard!” 

Ezra’s eyes flashed in anger, and he stood to his full height, towering over you.  

“That was uncalled for, Cricket.”, he snarled. “I will take the wrath of meeting an end without you by my side, but I will not allow you to besmirch my good mother with a question of my paternal lineage.” 

You stared at him, eyes wide with anger at his audacity, and before you could say another word, he tackled you to the floor. You tried to fight him off but the moment you heard the clunk of his brass arm and felt two metal fingers punch up into your slick heat, you ceased your struggle.  

“See, sweet Cricket? I may be a wayward traveler, but even I know the dangers of leaving a woman on the precipice of completion... “ 

“Don’t stop... please... don’t stop...”  

The vibrations of his arm and the smooth curves of the worn metal fingers found a rhythm that had you seeing stars.  

“I plan to keep demanding your company each time I move through this sector, and-” 

“Oh Kevva... Ez-Ezra!” 

He leaned forward and ghosted his mouth over yours, speaking in a low, husky growl, “... if I were to fail you now, what kind of welcome would I receive the next time I darken your doorway?” 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull and your body arched off the floor. Pent up energy burst from your burning cunt, sending wave after wave of precious release through your body. The scream that peeled out of you was dampened by Ezra kissing you forcefully. 

His movement slowed and he slowly pulled his brass hand from your core. You were greeted with his grin as he looked over his brass hand. 

“You’ve polished only two fingers for me... there are three more.”, he cooed, placing a delicate kiss on the end of your nose. “Next time.” 

“N-next time?” 

He nodded and stood up with a grunt. You sat up carefully, and it seemed you both took note of the plate on the floor, covered in his cum. The chastisement was on your tongue, but never became words out loud as you were struck speechless as you watched him pick up the plate and fling it out the window.  

He turned back to you, standing naked in the kitchen, fat and sweaty, with a grin on his face.  

“There is always a next time, Cricket.” 

[darkesttiimelines]

Throughout history, women have left an undeniable impact on society with their hard work, creativity, and dedication to progress. Unfortunately, their accomplishments have often gone unnoticed, been undervalued, or even stolen. Despite these challenges, brave women of today continue to push boundaries, break barriers, and pave the way for a more fair and equal world. It's our duty to keep going, so that future generations of women can inherit a kinder, more just, and supportive world. By following in the footsteps of the incredible women who came before us, we can create a world where every woman can flourish and succeed, and where their contributions are recognized and celebrated.

Joan of Arc is a patron saint of France, honored as a defender of the French nation for her role in the siege of Orléans and her insistence on the coronation of Charles VII of France during the Hundred Years' War. Claiming to be acting under divine guidance, she became a military leader who transcended gender roles and gained recognition as a savior of France. She was put on trial by Bishop Pierre Cauchon on accusations of heresy, which included blaspheming by wearing men's clothes, acting upon visions that were demonic, and refusing to submit her words and deeds to the judgment of the church. She was declared guilty and burned at the stake on 30 May 1431, aged about nineteen.

Rani Lakshmibai was the Maharani consort of the princely state of Jhansi from 1843 to 1853. She was one of the leading figures in the Indian Rebellion of 1857 became a symbol of resistance to the British rule in India for Indian nationalists. When the Maharaja died in 1853, the British East India Company under Governor-General Lord Dalhousie refused to recognize the claim of his adpoted heir and annexed Jhansi under the Doctrine of Lapse. She rode into battle with her infant son strapped to her back, and died in June 1858 after being mortally wounded during the British counterattack at Gwalior.

Rosalind Franklin was a British chemist and X-ray crystallographer whose work was instrumental in the discovery of the structure of DNA. Her contributions were largely overlooked by her male colleagues, James Watson and Francis Crick, who used her data without her permission or acknowledgement. This theft of her intellectual property and erasure of her contributions is a prime example of the systemic sexism that has historically plagued the scientific community.

Hedy Lamarr was an Austrian-American actress and inventor who co-invented a frequency-hopping spread spectrum technology during World War II that was used to guide torpedoes. However, her contributions were largely ignored and dismissed by male engineers and the military at the time. It was only later in life that she received recognition for her scientific achievements.

Emma Weyant is an American competitive swimmer. She was the US national champion at the individual medley. She qualified for the 2020 Olympic Games in the 400m individual medley and won the silver medal in this event. Weyant finished second in the 500-yard freestyle at the 2022 NCAA Division I Women's Swimming and Diving Championships. She was beaten by William (Lia) Thomas, a fetishist, who when competing as a member of the Penn men's team, which was 2018-19, ranked 554th in the 200 freestyle, 65th in the 500 freestyle and 32nd in the 1650 freestyle. Weyant is the fastest swimmer in the 500-yard freestyle and had her position stolen by a man.

Maryna Viazovska is a Ukrainian mathematician who made a breakthrough in sphere packing, solving the centuries-old mathematical problem known as the densest packing of spheres in dimensions 8 and 24. She was awarded the Fields Medal in July 2022, making her the second woman (after Maryam Mirzakhani), the second person born in the Ukrainian SSR and the first with a degree from a Ukrainian university to ever receive it.

Hannie Schaft was a Dutch resistance fighter during World War II who played a crucial role in the resistance movement against Nazi occupation. Schaft was a former university student who dropped out because she refused to sign a pledge of loyalty to Germany. Nazis arrested and killed her in 1945, just three weeks before the war ended in Europe. According to lore, Schaft’s last words were, “I’m a better shot,” after initially only being wounded by her executioner.

Shakuntala Devi was an Indian mathematician and mental calculator who was known as the "Human Computer" for her exceptional ability to perform complex mathematical calculations in her head. Her extraordinary abilities earned her a place in the 1982 Guinness Book of Records. Her lesser known achievement is that in 1977 she wrote what is considered to be the first book in India on homosexuality titled “The World of Homosexuals.”  

J. K. Rowling is a British author and philanthropist. She wrote Harry Potter, a seven-volume children's fantasy series published from 1997 to 2007. Known for her philanthropy, she was doxxed and harassed after coming out with support for women's and gay rights in 2020. Rowling secretly donated hundreds of thousands of pounds to save 100 female lawyers and their families facing murder in Afghanistan. In 2022, she funded a women's only rape shelter in Edinburgh.

[sungvrhs]

Not A Monster ; Park Sunghoon

Genre; fluff | Vampire!male x human!female

word count ; 3.9K

"You remind me of old time fairy tale boyfriends to be honest." You spoke as you flipped the page of the book, addressing your boyfriend, who had his fingers caressing through your locks as you laid back on his chest whilst he rested on the head rest of the couch, reading between the lines of the book you held. "Really? How so?" His hand supporting the back of his head as your statement let alone the curiosity in his mind pour out. "You seem so mythical when I capture your pictures. It just seems so unreal at times."He chuckled at your reply as it perked his curiosity even more. You thought for a while, putting down your book as you locked gaze with him. Examining his features that you had always adored, finding them oddly attractive and unique; that whitewashed pale skin, those chocolatey orbs, and especially those teeth of his shaped into fine fangs. "Everything about you. But if we are specific, your facial features resemble those of a vampire." Your statement had him shocked as his fingers stopped grazing through your locks as his smile dropped. "Especially when you did the vampire cosplay on Halloween night. I almost fell for the red contact lenses of yours." His actions caused you to look up to him, only to find him dwelled in deep thoughts. 

'What if she freaks out?' 'What if the things between us grew awkward?' The thoughts made him wander off the conversation mentally as he felt a tug on his wrist, pulling him out of his trance as he looked back at you. "Huh?" You chuckled at his expressions. "You zoned out." He let out a short chuckle as he nodded sideways, "You know me..." and just with that the conversation drowned back into the lurking silence, with only the flipping of creamy pages and the soft breaths filling up the cosy environment.

On the contrary, his heart ignited on fire as it ran long lapses of a never ending marathon. He never thought of exposing this little secret to you; what if you detested to even get a glimpse of him? Or what if panic aroused in either of you and then he never got the chance to explain it well? Numerous thoughts crept up to his mind, keeping him occupied for the rest of the afternoon as it was pretty evident to you when you noticed him making a bite of the ramen ready to be devoured but never allowed it to reach the tip of his tongue as it remained on the plate in front of him. You shifted uncomfortably on your seat, noticing the change in his behavior as you knew something was up.  After a few good moments of silence whilst all that could be heard was the clicking from your plate, you broke the ice. "Hoon?" You kept your hand on his, softly pulling him back from his drowned thoughts as he locked contact with you, acknowledging your call with a hum. "What's wrong?" You were quick enough to pick up on how he was contemplating over something; you had to know. “Oh, it's…nothing much really. Just a few calls from Heeseung hyung asking for help in his work so I was making mental notes.” He let a smooth justification roll out of his tongue, which was a little convincing as you slightly nodded at his words. He blinked his eyes a few times before letting out his breath slowly, so as to not gain your attention, which he didn’t realize he had held back. 

Sprinting back to his room, he didn’t realise that all of this had caused his inner vampire skills to emerge as he dashed through his room with the speed of light. It was only when he halted himself right before he collided with the bedpost. “What the heck is wrong with me?” He sighed in frustration, brushing his hair strands back from his forehead as he held his head in his hands, closing his eyes to take a moment to dissolve all the panic in him. After a minute or two he was able to recollect himself as he took a deep sigh. “Heeseung hyung…yes, Heeseung hyung.” He fished out his phone as he dialled up to the only person he could rely on. 

“Sunghoon if it’s any of your other requests for more time I’ll-” “Hyung I…I got a slight problem.” The elder got cut off by the younger’s words as the phone call went silent for a few seconds. “What is it? Did something happen?” The sense of worry and fear was visible in the elder’s voice as the younger sighed. “Today, in the afternoon, Y/n made mention of some fictional characteristics that quite resemble me…according to her. But when she pointed out the exact details of mine matching that of a vampire, I panicked.” The younger one seemed terrified as Heeseung questioned him, “You didn’t do anything stupid did you?” The younger disagreed, “No no, but I’m actually worried about her finding it all out.” Another silence followed the phone call as the elder sighed, “It’s good that she hasn't till now, but Sunghoon, you need to let her know this. It’s for the better good of the two of you.” Sunghoon could feel a lump forming in his throat. Letting you know about how he was a monster hidden behind a fragile facade? “B-But hyung, I can’t. What if she gets disgusted at the sight of-” “She is your second half right?” He sighed at the elder’s words, a few tears threatening to make their brush escape from his brimming orbs. “Yes.” “Then I can assure you that she will understand you.” He needed a moment to think about all of this. “It was hard for Evelyn to get the hang of all of it too, but when I showed her our matching birth signs, she decided to give it a thought before she accepted it…” Heeseung spoke, letting Sunghoon know that this was the right time to let you know. “Fine..I-I’ll try my best to do so.” he sighed knowing this was a tough nut to crack, but it was either now or never. “If anything goes wrong, I’ll just be a call away okay?” Sunghoon hummed at the elder’s support, thanking him before he hung up, making up the whole game plan to make you decipher this new piece of information with not much of…disappointment?

It was already evening before he made a step out of his workspace room before mustering up the will and courage to make way to your room. As the door creaked open, his eyes made a scan in your room, finding you peacefully working on your novel as a smile crept up on his space. If it were anything that was oddly attractive about you in the eyes of his, it was how perfectly you were able to draw or blend the lines between reality and fantasy. “You can come in, you know.” As if you felt the presence of his behind you, you spoke up, while still pushing the buttons of your keypad. He let a small flustered chuckle as he made way to your bed, letting his body sink in the soft mattress. “Sometimes I really want to swap rooms with you. Your bed seems so comfortable.” You laughed at his words. “Nah I love my precious bed.” You said playfully whilst your fingers continued to hit the keys. Sunghoon tilted his head a little as he got up, leaning from behind your right shoulder to get a view of what you were typing. “What are you writing this time?” Putting his chin on your shoulder as he has his arms wrapped around your shoulders, he reads in the words that you were typing. Hearing him question you scrolled to the top of the page to show him the title. “About that fictional reality that I told you about; the vampire-human love story.” The small smile that lingered on his lips faded as his grip loosened a bit around your shoulders. Each and every single thing for the day was just adding onto the pile of secrets that he had treasured for so long. He slightly gulped to hide his nervousness as he questioned. “Oh that…yes I remember you telling me about its rough draft.” he paused for a while, as you continued to scrap a few more details on your brainstorming page. “What is the baseline?” That very word had your eyes sparkled. You tilted your head sideways to meet his soft gaze as you held his hand excitedly as you guided him on the bed whilst you seated yourself next to him with your phone. “OK now that you asked for it; it's about the two worlds colliding when a vampire finds that a human is his second half…” His eyes slightly widen at your words… ‘How in the universe was this exactly the same as his situation?’ He thought for a while as your words continued to ring through his ears, not allowing him much time to digest each and every detail. “And so they both meet each other and once they get close to knowing each other, they realise that they are meant for each other by the signs of destiny and fate.” He broke eye contact, looking away, as he slightly nodded. “It seems great…I’m so proud of my girl bringing in the mythical ideas back to top book genres.” He slightly cleared his throat as you leaned in to look at him. “You liked the idea? Thank you Hoon! I thought you won’t like it since these sorts of things are just appreciated by a small part of the community…well…those who precisely love fantasy.” You held his hand, feeling the coldness radiating from his body; he was always like that, but the warmth from your body was always quick enough to compensate. “Why did you think that I won’t like it?” His eyebrows furrowed at your statement as he locked gaze with you, his thumb softly rubbing the back of your hand. 

His question made you wonder upon what you said. “Ah, like…I don’t usually find you intrigued in all of these kinds of books when I read them you know…” You slightly scratched your nape, pondering over what if your words made him disappointed. “But I don’t need to when I get to read it from your end…and be the protagonist in real life.” The last statement came out as a murmur which you couldn’t pick up as you spoke, “What do you mean?” you chuckled slightly as you questioned him as to which he took a deep sigh. “What if you were to experience every single thing that you wrote in this book? Would you love it?” You were taken aback and surprised at his question. “Hoon that ain’t possible.” You spoke as he nudged you a little. “No but, what if it did. Would you do the same as you wrote on your pov or would you do something else.” It was hard to answer his question; like linking something that wasn’t real to real life? It was as if trying to bring the earth and the sky together. You hesitated a bit as he had his eyes fixed on yours, curious to find an answer. You couldn’t comprehend what perked this curiosity in him, but you were willing to answer. “Well, if it were for this current book, I would have done what I wrote, because that is how I exactly imagined it.” Sunghoon felt a sense of relief at your answer, with his nervousness dripping to a lower level as he spoke up. “So what did the female lead in the story do that you would follow?” His questions were making you even more dazed. “Hoon why are you-” “Please Y/n. I’m just really curious about it. It’s the first time something sparked my interest.” He cuts you off as his pleading orbs make contact with your hazel ones. You sigh as you continue. “In my story, the female lead was shocked to know that her date was a vampire. He had kept it hidden from her. But upon getting this new piece of information, she panics a little, but takes time to recollect herself before she accepts it.” Upon hearing your end of story, Sunghoon feels as if everything was falling into place. And it was time when he finally mustered up the courage to let you know. He takes hold of your hands as he looks down, with your gaze following his actions. A moment of silence follows as you gave him time to speak, after which he spoke, “What if this all was real? Would you believe me?” his voice sounds shaky as you look up to his face, noticing how he wasn’t making eye contact with you. You could sense the sadness in his voice. “Hoon, what’s wrong?” Panic arose in you as you could feel the sadness in his heart…it was always like that…the reflection of emotions that either of you shared was felt by the other. You wasted no time as you softly cupped his cheeks, making him face you. “H-Hoon please tell me what is wrong, I am there to help you right?” He locked gaze with you as your breaths became short and paced. He kept his hands on yours as he spoke. “The book that you are writing is exactly what we are.” The panic in your eyes turn into shock as you spoke, “What do you mean by ‘what we are?’” You had confusion lingering on your face but you heard him speak. “That I’m a vampire bonded to you, a human, as soulmates.” You loosened your grip around his face as you turned your head to the other side, nodding sideways as you couldn't bring yourself to believe it. 

“You must be kidding Hoon. It’s not possible.” You turned to look back at him, only to find his eyes glowing amber as his little fangs were visible from his pursed lips. Your eyes widened as your body jolted back a little. Sunghoon was unfazed as he expected this reaction from you but he maintained his composure as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “I’m sorry that I kept you in the dark but it was hard for me to let you know this…” He felt slightly disappointed when you slipped your hand away from his grip but he didn’t let the situation get the best of him. All of this just seemed unreal to you. You couldn’t bring yourself to believe all of this and were hoping to wake up from this dream but hearing his voice made you realize that it was just a piece of fantasy engraved in this realm of reality. “Sunghoon, all of this-” “I wanted to let you know that even if I’m a monster to you, we still are soulmates and I apologize that you have to go through all of this because of me.” While he was drawing deep into the depths of guilt, fear and agony, you were beyond amused upon finding him being a vampire. “Hoon-” he cuts you off again as he says, “I promise you Y/n I would never try to hurt you in any way. I never did before and I never would.” You were taken aback by how we were cutting you off. “Hoon, listen.” You held his hands again as he flinched at the warmth coming in contact with his icy skin as he locked gaze with you. “You don’t have to be sorry for something that wasn’t in your hands.” You paused for a while as you spoke, “Yes, I can’t bring myself to believe all this but…” Sunghoon looks at you, his eyes turning back as you take a pause. “Like you said that we are meant to be together, then you won’t find me distancing myself from you.” You broke into a small smile as his eyes widened a bit at your words. “W-What? You’re serious. I-If there is something on your mind, you can let me know-” You cut him off with a small peck on his lips, catching him off guard. “I don’t need to, Hoon.” His eyes are widened at your composure as his mouth hangs. “You are-” you cut him off as you speak “No hoon, I am not even slightly disgusted by this. How can you even think of that? For the fact that if I ever started to feel that way, I would never forgive myself for doing so.” You slightly chuckle as he looks away, not able to comprehend upon what just happened. “I can feel what you feel which is why I can never bring myself to despise anything about you.” You address him, intertwining your fingers with his as you let a small smile linger on your lips. He didn’t say anything as he continued to stare at you, as if he was expecting something bad to happen but it didn’t. “Hoon.” you tugged on his arm as he looked at you. “I swear I don’t feel anything like that.” You felt his hand snaking around your waist softly as he pulled you in his embrace. “Thank you…thank you for accepting it.” You ran your fingers through his locks as you spoke. After a few moments of adoration, you suddenly called his name, “Hoon.” to which he responded “Yes love?” His eyes filled with admiration as he waited for you to speak. “How did you know I was your soulmate?” your question made him break into a smile as he spoke, “I saw the half start birthmark on your right shoulder when you wore an off shoulder at my birthday party. I realized that it matches exactly with mine on my left shoulder.” He spoke as he showed his other half star birthmark on his shoulder.

“How come I have not noticed it?” You spoke, sulking a bit as he laughed at your reaction. “Well, I never showed it to you…” he paused as he had a slight smirk on his face. “Unless you want me to.” He leaned in a bit closer as to which you smacked his arm playfully. “You can never stop being cheesy can you?” Your cheeks turned rosy as you got flustered at the closeness. He laughed at your reaction. “You are easy to tease, you know.” You rolled your eyes at his actions, getting up to take your laptop as his eyes followed you. “Where are you heading?” You heard him speak as you took your laptop to your bed while sitting next to him. “You should have told me earlier Hoon, it would have saved my time from all the research I had to do for my book.” You made a light hearted statement as he let out a warm chuckle. “I did not expect a very smooth reaction from your end, to be honest.” His eyes sparkled as his dimples appeared, making you break into a smile. You were scrolling through the chapters as his eyes landed on one specific one; ‘Bite me.’ “He furrowed his eyes as he pointed towards the screen, catching your attention. “What’s that about?” You look to where he points, as you speak “Well, for that you will have to read the first 15 chapters before you get this. Cause you always ask me the synopsis of the story and never read it.” You huff at his reactions as he chuckles at your reaction. “I promise to read this one. Since we can relate here.” He kept his head on your shoulder, causing you to look at him as he spoke. “I always find your work more amusing than any other writers, so I might as well just read every single one of your work and that might spark my interest in every genre…” He had a mischievous grin on his face as he leaned in closer, with only a few inches of distance between you both; “even the explicit ones, darling.” Your face flustered at his words as you playfully hit him. “You pervert. I take help from my co-writers.” He lets out a loud chuckle as he nods sideways. “I don’t believe you. Whatever is written in those books just seems like it’s all written by you, so I won’t buy your excuses.” You rolled your eyes at him, using your pillow to smack him as he laughed at your reaction. 

“You have no other choice than to accept it Mr.Vampire.” You folded your arms on your chest as he continued to laugh at your reaction. “Whatever you say my love, I would definitely love to recreate each and every single one of those scenes with you.” His words caused you to get flustered as he leaned in closer to whisper. “Especially the ones in your current book.” Your cheeks turned deep crimson as you kept your hands on your cheeks “HOON! DON’T!” He pulled you in his embrace as he chuckled, sending vibrations down your whole body. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything without your consent.” With that you broke into a smile yet again…letting his words linger in your mind as you thought for a moment. You found him nuzzling into your neck as he inhaled your scent, letting your brain wonder of his words. “How come you have never felt the urge to…” you paused for a while as you heard him speak, “Felt what?” You hesitated a bit as if it weren’t appropriate to say it right now. Not hearing you speak he broke from the embrace as his black orbs traced down to meet yours as you spoke, “to bite me?” Your words had him stunned as he shook his head sideways. “I had control over myself, I didn’t want to hurt or harm you in any way and, like I said earlier, I would never do anything with your consent-” “You have my consent Hoon.” He looked at you, as if searching for something. “What? No, I mean, are you okay with it?” His eyes searched for yours again…finding himself in a dilemma as to allow the time to rush things as they are or to give them a break. “I’m positive.” He gulped a little as he saw how you were ready. But it was difficult for him to do so, fearing that he might lose control. “I don’t know if I would be able to control myself Y/n, I don’t want you to get hurt-” You held his arm softly as you said, “I have faith that you won’t. I trust you.” That was more than enough to reassure him as he shifted on the bed behind you, softly removing your locks. “Do you need a safe word? Just say it and I'll stop.” You thought for a while as you spoke “Star?”  He nodded as his hand held your waist while the other gently held your nape, rubbing circles with his thumb as he pressed a gentle kiss on your temple. “Just loosen yourself a little love, I sense you all tensed up.” You took a deep sigh as you closed your eyes, nodding to give him a signal as you felt his breath fanning on your skin, and before you could count, you felt his sharp fangs digging into your skin. 

note; yes! my first work on this interface! I thought to start with a fluff one, cause why not! If there are any grammatical errors, please ignore because English is not my first language. Feel free to leave comments and re-blog <3

[googleitlol]

I want it to be known that every time I finish one of these, I let out the most gremlin, 'heeheeeheeheehee' you could possibly imagine.

Why don't we start off with a different POV? Find out what a certain monkey has been up to?

Dove Masterlist:

Storm

That little menace has Sun Wukong at his wit’s end.

The Monkey King flies east atop his cloud, with nothing to do but fume over this new obstacle as he makes his way to his destination. Sure, maybe he could have said something to the others about the disguised demon they found dangling from the tree. Maybe taking care of that brat quicker would have been the better solution, but the sage didn’t want to kill the demon outright and risk a painful headache in case his master didn’t give him a chance to explain. Still, the risk of that might have been worth it, seeing as that little imp took both his master and Dove. It irritated him, how the kid stuck to her like that.

Wukong and his brothers were lucky enough to meet some of the gods of the mountain, they were more than willing to tell them about Red Boy and where he lived. It’d be a lie to say the Monkey King wasn’t surprised to hear the boy is the son of his bond-brother, the Bull Demon King, he doesn’t remember his old friend living anywhere near here. If he gets the chance, he’ll have some words to share about his nuisance of a son.

He would have beaten that child easily if it were not for his obnoxious little trick. Just as Wukong was about to land a blow, the boy began to punch his own face! As if that wasn’t off-putting enough, fire began to shoot out of his face. The fire wouldn’t have bothered the sage all that much, but before it could even touch him, the smoke it emitted completely obscured his vision. He couldn’t find the entrance to the cave amidst the heavy fumes, much less the brat who went in for some cheap shots with his lance. Nephew or not, Wukong cannot wait to get his hands on that little terror.

The Bull Demon King really ought to teach that kid some respect, what was he even talking about? Evil urges?! The gall, ugh! What a– why would he–ugh! What does that boy take him for?! He has no clue what he’s talking about. That kid is the one who wants to eat them, he’s the one with evil urges! Wukong only wanted to protect his friends, it’s not that he wanted Dove to himself. What a ridiculous accusation!  How else is he meant to react when any of those idiots find themselves in danger?!

The king can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. Damn, that comment really got to him. Why did the boy's words irritate him so much? Looking down at the terrain below as he rushes towards the ocean, he can’t help but sigh. He’d rather feel this annoyance, this irritation than what has really been prodding at his chest.  Every time Tripitaka has been kidnapped, he’s known he would get him back. Sure, there've been brief lapses of doubt, but they only ever lasted so briefly; the time he was blinded, or when those demon brothers trapped him under all those mountains. But whenever he had those moments of doubt, she was there to snap him out of it.

He hates the worry that has been building in his chest. She was right there, he nearly had her… close enough to feel her slip out of his grasp. Ugh, it’s infuriating!

At least after his fight with Red Boy, Sandy came up with the idea to ask Ao Guang for help. If that kid’s fire is the one thing that stopped them, then certainly the Eastern Dragon King will be able to help them extinguish those flames. It was strange, the boy’s fire. Despite not taking any of the flames head-on, Wukong could have sworn he felt their heat. It didn’t feel like any fire he’s ever been near. The heat… it almost hurt.

Perhaps he’s just overthinking this, there’s a lot of things he’s been feeling lately that make no sense to him. Besides, fire has never hurt before, not since gaining his immortality. No fire can truly burn him, not celestial nor earthly, he had to have imagined it.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. What is important now is getting the aid of Ao Guang so that he can save his master and Dove. Wukong can only hope those two can last on their own until he comes with reinforcements.

…Who is he kidding, he can almost see Dove fighting with every tooth and nail to get the monk and herself out of that cave.

~~~~

“You see, what I’m doing is focusing on your energy and giving you some of my own.” You kneel in front of Red Boy in that same room your burn was wrapped in. You hold the boy’s face in your hands gently, focused on taking care of his black eye.

The demon child is silent, leaning a bit into your healing hands while his attention stays entirely on you. “A little bit is enough to give you a little peace of mind, and if I need to, I can use some more to heal physical injuries.” Once you finish, you stand back to take a look at his face. It looks as though it was never injured in the first place.

You rise to your feet a bit too fast and take an unbalanced step back. You sway a bit, lightheaded but otherwise fine. Usually, you only use your gift like this in more dire circumstances, and you’re used to it taking more out of you than just this.

Still, Red Boy is quick to take your hand and guide you to sit down. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I just need a moment.” You reassure him, sitting back with a bit of a sigh. “Your injuries were pretty mild, but maybe you can restrain from punching yourself in the face anymore, alright?”

The boy quietly nods, frowning with this inquisitive look. “Is this why you said you couldn’t do it until your arm got better?” He asks with a hum.

You look away with a slight chuckle. “Ehh, that may have been an exaggeration. But generally, it’s easier for me to heal if my body isn’t busy trying to fix itself.”

Red Boy nods in understanding, his head tilting a bit in curiosity. “Well, if healing other people tires you out too much, can you take other people’s energy to make yourself better?”

“I, uh…” You hesitate, the question is a little uncomfortable. “…in theory, yes. That would involve putting another person at risk, though, so I wouldn’t even think of using it like that.” The idea of using the gift Guan Yin gave you to help people in such a way made your skin crawl, you wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

The boy’s brows furrow. “Why not? Father taught me that all my abilities have a use.” He argues, taking a seat next to you. “ I think that draining your enemies of their life would make things much easier for you and your monk friend.”

His reasoning makes you shake your head. “The easy way is not always the best route. Besides, I only fight to protect, and I can do that with my own strength and wit.” You smile, though your words are met with a disbelieving look.

“Do you really believe that?” He deadpans, apparently quite doubtful.

“I do.” You cross your arms, refusing to drop your smile.

Red Boy rolls his eyes with a scoff. “I think that’s nonsense. If you can make things easier for yourself, you should do it! The Samadhi Fire makes everything easier for me.”

“Really?” You hum, raising a brow to give him your own look of doubt. A fire you make when you punch yourself in the face doesn’t seem like the most practical power.

The boy’s eyes light up. “I’m not the best with my lance, but it doesn’t matter when I can just burn all my enemies to a crisp!” He looks down to his hands as he speaks, a mischievous grin crossing his face.

You frown for a moment, a little confused by his excitement. “I thought you said it’s difficult to control?”

“Oh, it is. Sometimes it just comes out when I get too mad.” He admits, glancing away as he rambles. “When I summon it, the fire just comes out of my face really fast– like my eyes and my mouth and stuff. I can’t really see where I’m shooting it, but as long as it hits whoever I’m fighting, it doesn’t really matter.”

“What if you’re fighting with an ally at your side? Or what if someone gets caught in the crossfire?” You question, which makes the boy look back at you for a moment. He goes to speak, but stumbles on his response before stopping himself.

You turn a bit to face the kid more. “I know the easy path feels– well, easy– but you should still work on controlling that fire of yours.”

Red Boy frowns, turning to look away from you with a grumble. “I know… it’s part of why Mother and Father sent me out here.” Oh?

He’s mentioned his parents a few times, but their lack of presence has definitely left you with questions. “They sent you here to learn how to control the Samadhi Fire?” You ask, leaning over a bit to see the troubled look on his face.

“I think I set a few too many fires at home. If I get too mad, it’s hard to stop the fire.” He confesses, bringing his knees close to his chest. “Plus, things are awkward right now and I don’t think they want me around.”

That makes you frown, why would he think that? You put a hand on his shoulder. “What makes you say that?”

Red Boy keeps his eyes wandering the room, his voice a bit annoyed. “Father left to live with some other woman, and Mother isn’t very happy about it.” He explains. “She said something about how Father forgot his manners and gave into his evil urges, like all men do.”

Oh. Oh, wow. That poor woman, this poor kid. “Mother said I could stay here for now so I can focus on training and getting better at controlling the Samadhi Fire, but I’m already good at that!” He pouts, looking back at you with an offended frown. “Yeah, I’m not really great, but I can control it enough!”

Wow, that was more than you were expecting. “Maybe so, but there is no such thing as too much practice. I am sure your mother would appreciate you keeping up with your training.” You offer him a small smile, it’s hard not to sympathise with the boy.

“Yeah, I know.” He groans, letting out a huff before resting his arms over his tucked knees.

“Make sure the next time you see her, she can see all the progress you’ve made.” You suggest. “I’m sure that would lift her spirits to see some improvement.”

Red Boy looks back at you, his brows furrowing at your words, thinking them over before cracking a little smile. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. Mother would like that.”

His response warms your heart a little. From how he’s spoken before, it’s clear he cares deeply for both his parents and what they think. It’s unfair to him to be in a situation like this, away from the both of them.

With a sigh, your gaze trails up to the ceiling. “You know, I never knew my own mother. She passed away when I was an infant, but my father was able to care for me. If I remember correctly, he had many duties in our village, but he mostly worked as a physician.”

“So being a healer runs in your family?” Red Boy hums, the question making you chuckle a bit.

You haven’t thought of it like that before. “Yes, I suppose it does.”

The boy hums, seemingly content as you lift a hand to massage your temple. You’re still feeling a bit light-headed, but you shouldn’t take too much longer. Part of you feels bad leaving the kid now, but your first priority is Tripitaka, and with your side of the deal done, there’s nothing stopping you from going back. You’ve already spent enough time here, but maybe you could check in on the boy after the journey is complete.

“I should be on my way now, Red Boy.” You sigh, glancing over to see the boy's look of disappointment.

Red Boy pouts a little. “Aw, already?”

“The others are still waiting for me.” You remind him. “I’ve spent enough time stalling our journey, and I still don’t know where Sun Wukong went off to.”

You go to stand, though you’re still a little shaky on your feet. Red Boy follows you to stand as well. “Are you sure? You still look drained.” He holds your arm to help steady yourself, the gesture sweet.

It’s funny to think he’s the same boy that wanted to eat Tripitaka and egged on Wukong. “It’s alright, I can rest properly once I’ve reunited with my friends.” You smile as he walks you to the cave opening, still holding onto your arm to help you. It’s like you’re an elderly woman he volunteered to assist.

When you get to the cave opening, you’re surprised to find the sun is nearly gone. Only a small trace of light remains in the west. It’s nearly night, did you really spend so long in the cave? It might be harder to find the others under the cover of night, but not impossible.

You step away from Red Boy, but he quickly tightens his hold on your arm. “The sun has set, you can’t go now!”

“They’re probably worried for me, Red Boy, I have to go.” You offer an apologetic look with a shrug, but he refuses to give in.

“But how will you find them in the dark? All the wild animals hunt at this time, it isn’t safe for you to wander through the mountain on your own.” He reasons, not giving you a chance to argue as he continues. “A-And you’re tired, too! Please, Miss, just stay here for another night? You said you would feel better after you rested, right? Mother would say a gentleman should never send a woman off on her own at night.”

You’re a little taken aback by his insistence, though you find his offer and reasoning cute. “I can even get you a fancy pillow, if you prefer to sleep as a dove!”

That gets you to laugh a bit. “It sounds like you’re being overly-sweet to get me to stay the night.”

“…Is it working?”

You shake your head in amusement, letting out a tired huff before looking out to the sky again. You’ve maybe got a half hour before the little light that’s left sinks into the horizon. With how far the flight was before, and with how tired you are now, you doubt you’d find them in time.

It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you rest here for the night, right? You have your weapons with you now, which definitely makes staying in a demon-filled cave feel a bit safer. You doubt Red Boy would have his demons do anything, and you can leave first thing in the morning. An insulated cave to protect from the wind is also a much nicer option compared to sleeping on the mountain in the open.

With a bit of a dramatic sigh, you look back at Red Boy. “Alright, I suppose I could stay the night.”

At your acceptance, the boy practically beams with excitement. “Great! Come, I can show you where the guest rooms are.” He drags you back in with a big smile, and you stumble a few times just to keep his pace as he runs through the halls. “My mother has some clothes she leaves here for when she visits, you can borrow her sleepwear if you want. I don’t think she’ll mind.”

Red Boy takes you to a nicely furnished bedroom before leaving you to rest. The minute your head makes contact with the pillow, your eyes begin to droop. It really has been a long day, as if getting pulled into a wind storm wasn’t exciting enough this morning. At least it’s all resolved now.

You’ll rest, wake up early, and find your friends. Hopefully Sun Wukong will be with them by then. Ha, to think the peach-loving sage was so concerned about you carrying Red Boy. It was a little rocky at first, but the kid isn’t so bad. He ended up being surprisingly sweet. You wish you could do more for him, he would definitely benefit from having someone around that wasn’t one of his soldiers. Someone to re-enforce those better habits of his and show him how not to do things like… well, like eating people.

As you drift off to sleep, you smile to yourself. You’re glad to have met the kid, but you can’t wait to see your friends in the morning…

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You wake to the crack of thunder.

You jolt up in bed, your heart racing from the sudden wake-up call. Several thumping footsteps can be heard outside your room, people shouting to one another in a panic as more thunder rumbles from somewhere outside. You’re not sure what time it is, but however long you slept has you feeling more energised now. But maybe it’s more than just your well-needed rest doing that.

The noise outside puts you on high alert, and you quickly jump out of bed to see what’s going on. When you exit your room, you’re nearly trampled by a horde of demons running through the corridors, handing off weapons to one another and fixing their armour.

More thunder echoes through the cave as you manoeuvre around them in an attempt to get outside. It sounds like there’s an intense storm, but yesterday had been nothing but clear skies! You make it to the cave opening, only to nearly be blinded by a flash of lightning.

The sounds of metal clashing and angry shouts are almost entirely drowned out by the storm overhead. Rain pours down over the scorched land around the cave, soldiers in scaled armour meet Red Boy’s army with steel, there’s fire everywhere you look. What is happening?! That scaled armour… is this one of the dragon kings? Why would one of their armies be here? What is going on?!

There’s so much rain, the stream that ran down the mountain by the cave has grown into rushing rapids. Even in the heavy downpour of the storm, the fires only grow, as though the water fuelled them more than the air around them.

All that fire– where is Red Boy?! You run out of the cave, scanning for the boy before hearing a shout from above. Overtop the mountain, the vicious cloud of smoke shoots out an unending spiral of fire.

Acting quick, you begin to rush up the mountain to get closer to the boy, switching between avian and human form to avoid flying arrows and spears, Flying up steeper parts of the mountainside while running where you can. You nearly slip a few times, the rain leaving you drenched and the ground a slippery mess.

As you get closer, you finally see him. It isn’t Red Boy you spot, but Sun Wukong jumping out of the smoky fumes atop his own cloud. He’s breathing heavily, his staff held securely in his grasp as he narrows his eyes at the fire that shoots out from the smoke.

“Wukong!” You call out to him, the monkey demon immediately freezing when he hears your voice. His head whips down to where you stand, and in an instant he is at your side.

He  tucks his staff into his ear before wrapping you in an embrace. The demon lets out a heavy sigh as you feel his arms wrap around you, one holding you by the back of your head. “Thank goodness you’re alright, I thought I might’ve taken too long.” He mumbles into your shoulder before lifting his head up to face you. The worry on his face is almost palpable, and you feel something pull at your chest.

You hate to see when he gets so worried. “Where’s Master? I need to get the two of you out of here.” His hands drop down to yours as he looks out over the two armies.

“He’s not here.” You frown, and Wukong looks back at you in confusion. “I got him out yesterday, he’s with Pigsy and Sandy. I was going to leave in the morning– where have you been?!”

“I went to find help dealing with the demon brat after our last fight.” He explains, his brows furrowed. “Sandy thought of using water to put out his flames, but…” The two of you look out to the battlefield. All the fire Red Boy is creating is only spreading, reaching farther and farther out.

Red Boy screams, and you look up to see the spiral of fire growing larger as it shoots wildly through the air. Your eyes widen in realisation, the boy’s words echoing in your head. “He can’t stop it.”

You take dove form, taking off before you’re caught by your foot. “Where are you going?!” Wukong gives you a look of exasperation, his hold preventing you from going any further.

He lets go as you turn back. “I need to calm him down! At this rate, he’ll kill everyone beneath him!” You explain, throwing your arm up to gesture to the boy.

“You think I’m letting you near that thing?!” Wukong steps closer, taking your shoulders in his hands. His tail lashes out, reflecting his anger as you shoot him a glare.

What does he think he’s talking about? Let you? “I’m not asking for your permission! Wherever the others are, there’s nowhere they’ll be able to hide if his fire burns down the mountain!”

The Great Sage returns your glare, but you refuse to give into the look. You won’t argue with him on this, not when all these people could get hurt, not when that kid needs help.

His nose scrunches for a moment before grumbling something under his breath. He looks away and summons his cloud, letting go of your shoulders. “You’re the most stubborn woman I know.”

“I’m well aware.” You nod before returning to avian form, the two of you flying up to the boy as his fire blazes across the battlefield.

The closer you get, the more the two of you have to duck and weave to avoid being hit by the flames. It’s near-impossible to predict where he shoots it next, sometimes the fire flickering out before coming back even greater than before and accompanied by the boy’s cries.

You look for an opening. If it weren’t for the thick cover of smoke, you might be able to figure out how to grab the boy. You dodge out of the path of the spiral again, finding an opportunity as it moves away, and you make your move.

As swift as you can, you dive for the smoke. Your vision quickly becomes obscured, the fumes heavy and thick. You can barely breathe, but you can’t stop here. You listen out for Red Boy, following his voice to navigate through the smoke.

 “Dove, look out!” Just as you’re about to reach him, you hear Wukong hurtling towards you. You’re about to grab the kid, there’s no time to look back before you hear Sun Wukong scream. You crash into Red Boy, he’s hot to the touch, like blood boiling beneath the surface of his skin.

You use your gift to soothe him while whipping around to look for your friend. Where did he go?! That scream– he must have been hit. But he’s the Monkey King, how could it have hurt him like that? Where is he?!

As the boy calms, the fire begins to dissipate. The smoke clears and the two of you begin to fall out of the sky and towards the rushing water below. You turn back, holding the now unconscious Red Boy in your arms as you search the sky for Sun Wukong. “Wukong!” What happened? Where is he? Why can’t you see him?! “Wukong!”

The fires across the battlefield extinguish all at once, and through the downpour you finally spot his limp form– just for a moment before he crashes into the water rapids. Wukong vanishes beneath the waves and you prepare to go in after him, turning your back towards the water to shield Red Boy before making contact with it. You slam into the water, plunging down before getting pushed downstream. You fight to surface, holding Red Boy and your own head above water.

With the boy in your hold, it’s a struggle to stay afloat in the rapids, but you do your best to scan the waters for your friend. “Wukong! Wukong, wh–” You can barely speak, the water choking your speech as your head goes under.

Once you reach the surface again, you start to push yourself to the riverbank and back towards the cave. You see Red Boy’s men falling back, all rushing to get back into the cave while you inch closer to land. By the time you reach the edge of the water, you’re hardly able to pull Red Boy onto land.

Your head swivels to and fro, searching for any signs of your friend as you run back to the cave. Red Boy begins to come to as you make it up the steps of his home, coughing up water while you're swept into the horde of demons rushing to get back inside. Arrows fire with lightning tight on their heels, and in the chaos you’re pushed inside.

Red Boy looks around in a worried panic, and seeing that he’s conscious, you set him down on his feet. “Are you alright?” You ask, the boy nodding hesitantly, confused. “Stay here, okay?” You don’t give him the chance to respond, your heartbeat echoing in your ears so loudly you couldn’t even hear him if he did say anything.

That scream– how hurt is he? Did he surface after he fell into the water? You run out to the lip of the cave, pushing past soldiers to try and get a better look. Where is he, dammit, where is he?!

“Wukong! Sun Wukong!” You call out, your throat scratching in pain. There’s nothing, not even a body floating downstream, where could he be? 

Bolts of lightning strike at the cave, but you refuse to move. You’ve never seen him go limp before, did he lose consciousness? Surely he would have resurfaced by now if he was conscious, right? What if he can’t? Can he drown?! Sandy and Pigsy usually take care of any demons underwater, dammit! What happened to him?!

He’s been hit by fire before, he should have been fine! No, what if the rapids pushed him further downstream? What if he’s at the bottom of the river? You have to move, now!

You move to run out when another lightning bolt strikes, this time hitting the cave just overhead and breaking off chunks of rock that come crashing down. They fall just at your feet, and you step back to avoid them. You look up in time to see more following, just barely giving you the time to jump back and avoid being crushed. You slip on the wet stone floor, falling back and scooting away as more of the entrance caves in.

By the time it stops, the only source of light in the surrounding area are the torches that are posted on the walls. The thunder begins to quiet, but your heart refuses to slow as the reality of the situation sinks in. “No… no!” You jump to your feet and throw yourself at the rubble blocking the entrance.

You begin to dig at the blockage, your mind racing with worry. Wukong, he’s hurt! You can’t be stuck in here, he’s– how is it even possible for fire to hurt him?! Forty-nine days in the Trigram Furnace did nothing to him– not even the Jade Emperor could kill him with fire, how is this any different? He might still be in the river, he can’t drown, there’s no way– but you thought there was no way he could get burned!

You fall to your knees, your mind racking with different questions and thoughts on what just happened– what you have to do. What can you do? Before you can spiral any further, Red Boy steps up to you. His eyes are watering, wide and scared. “I– I’m sorry.” His voice is shaking, barely even able to get the words out.

“I was trying to stop, I was trying to! I tried closing my eyes b-but it hurt– it just wasn’t stopping!” Tears run down his face, and the trembling boy is enough to ground you for a moment. You pull the child into your arms as he sobs. “I wasn’t trying to hurt anybody, I promise! They just attacked! I didn’t mean to use it, I swear!”

“It’s okay…” You mumble to the boy as you hold him close, rubbing his back in comfort. You can’t believe your own words, but it’s all you can think to say to him in the moment. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Sun Wukong, please be okay.