#had to get this one out of my system before i exploded

[zhonglicious]

now. dont get me wrong. hanma is a freak and loves it when his partner takes the lead, bossing him around. someone who knows exactly what they want, how they want it, and isnt afraid to use him to get it

but god, nothing gets him harder than a shy little thing that can barely even look him in the eye. hands over their face, occasionally peeking out at him then getting too flustered to look again. he absolutely loves watching them turn into a mess, knowing that he did that. sweet, shy little thing, tears welling at the corners of their eyes, so, so close, but too embarrassed to ask for more.

[catboyfurina]

i am never living four people to a bathroom ever again

[iceunhie]

— KISSES OR KISSES? : honkai star rail

premise. testing out your new lipstick is no fun (normally), so what better way to make use of it by kissing your lover senseless? not to mention, leaving a little something behind.... (aka, lipstick kisses with them.)

ft. blade, dan heng, boothill, dr. ratio, aventurine !

warnings: feminine reader! reader is ultimately genderless but you may interpret this as fem!reader if you want, reader wears lipstick. nicknames hehe, boothill is his own warning, mid writing tbh, unedited

a/n. the lipstick trend does not escape me at all 😞😞 but this consumed me so now i write about it ijbol

MAIN MASTERLIST || PART 2 (sunday, jing yuan, gallagher, sampo, gepard.)

“what are you doing?”

BLADE ceases all functions. like, immediately.

you'd think he'd even stopped breathing once he'd felt the soft sensation of your lips on his, and the pretty sight of the normally aloof stellaron hunter covered in multiple lipstick kisses all over his face to his neck nearly makes the rest of his other comrades keel over from laughter. his silence is indicative of his rather unusual state of shock, the only indication a menacing furrow of his brows (to an outsider, they'd think he's plotting a murder spree, but you know him too well for that) that twitch and simultaneously react the more you kiss him everywhere on the face.

silverwolf will then relay to you that blade walked around for nearly 5 system hours covered in your... marks of ownership, kafka helpfully supplies, and was only made aware when firefly accidentally bumped into him, face exploding in red when she saw the audacious sight of blade covered in your lipstick. “er, blade.... your face is...”

—

blade has never known mortification quite like today, but the intense feeling of something akin to shame is vivid as he stares at himself in the mirror, glaring.

his face is a mess, to put it simply. trailing a hand on the red stains your lips left on to him leaves him with a smudged countenance, furthering the utter chaos that is his kiss-ridden face.

“...ridiculous girl.” avoiding the uncharacteristic way his fingertips feel hot, blade reckons this is probably why firefly stopped dead in her tracks and gaped, stared, and flustered.

clever as you were, and with your equal penchant for mischief, blade, the ever unsuspecting lover he is (he doesn't normally allow anyone to touch him, but you're not just anyone) had easily become the target of your new tricks.

“pfft, nice get-up, old man. got yourself a good day?”

....so that's what silverwolf meant.

DANHENG immediately scolds you, but not in the serious way he normally does whenever stelle wants to eat an origami bird or dives into trashcans or when march accidentally destroys one of the archive books, but in a way that only dan heng ever shows you. he's red, painfully red, and is struggling to face you because he knows that the smug grin you're holding has to do with the sight he'd glimpsed himself to be in moments prior.

unfortunately for him, for all his ways of trying fervently to remove the lipstick stains plastered all over his face, it only took march one look and a melodramatic gasp before the entire express knew, the conductor included.

—

“dan heng and [name], sitting on a tree-”

“k-i-s-s-i-n-g~”

my friends are all senile, dan heng thinks, rolling his eyes while avoiding himeko's friendly (read: eerie) smile. and he's already given up on trying to meet welt's eyes. (read: concerned but not surprised)

the reason? the rouge tinted matte lipstick generously spread all over dan heng's face, slightly smudged and spanning from his cheeks to his lips, nearing his neck.

he'd never tell, but a part of him—one that was reptilian in nature, a primal need of possessiveness—adored the show of affection you showered upon him. it was only right—he was yours, and you were his.

welt is sheepish, coughing lightly that all five heads of the express members turn to him (pom-pom included) “dan heng, is that your tail wagging?”

“....”

“....”

“....”

(a resounding click! can be heard afrerwards. oh, dan heng is so going to steal march's camera.)

the loud whir of BOOTHILL’s cooling system can't even keep up with how fast he's overheating, because one thing led to another and one look you gave made him weak in the knees and now his body is covered in your kisses, scarlet against the metal gray of his limbs. he no longer has a heart, but the rapid feeling of heat emitted by his body speaks more about his current mental state in more ways than one—he can't even form words because his brain chip is practically glitching itself up into overdrive, because your lips were so warm, soft and gentle and—

“...oothill? boothill? your circuits are—”

a startling sound that sounds just like a mini explosion reverberates somewhere in the tangle of wires near boothill's power source.

oh dear.

( p.s: no warp trotters were harmed, rest assured )

“[name]...” AVENTURINE’s voice falters when you press a soft kiss near his forehead, your lover closing his eyes as he lets out a soft sigh of joy — a bit like a peacock preening... but in any case! he certainly sees no argument being swayed by you, his dignity in shambles, yes, but when you were showering him with affection like this (which, in all honesty, aventurine did not think he deserved) leaves in in a flushed and tattered mess of a man, whose strings are wholly puppeteered by you and you alone.

you are everything; and aventurine certainly can't get enough. (he doubts if enough will even be enough someday) he's the lover who'd proudly want to flaunt such salacious marks everywhere, though his craftily built reputation as a stoneheart—blood sweat and commodity code and all—leaves him to hide your marks on him, as much as he'd like them to stay. (you are a weakness that aventurine keeps like an oath, and an existence that he'd do anything to keep.)

that doesn't, however, stop him from getting you to leave a kiss near his collar, discreet enough to signal his status as irrevocably, undeniably yours.

DR. VERITAS RATIO is actually the most calm and most normal (read: boring) of all the men above when barraged by your kiss attack. letting out a tsk that's more chiding and speeachless than actually annoyed, he casually pulls you away from his face, nevermind his rapidly heating cheeks, which is only made more humorous given his lipstick stained face.

“stop that. you're making too much of a mess of me, fool.” <- is visibly leaning to your face to allow said actions. you're not fooling anyone here, doctor. smh.

however, he does get pretty flustered when a certain blond gambler notes the new addition of a ‘tattoo’ right near his lower lip. “wow, doctor. seems you woke up on the good side of the bed today.”

he spends a whole day scolding you hoarse afterwards, whatever that may entail ;).

(as a way of petty revenge, he will make sure to kiss you senseless right after, until he's sure his own lips are swollen and covered in the warm red of your chosen shade.)

a/n: blog is running on queue as of today, so this post will probably come wayyy overdue lol but hope u enjoy nonetheless!

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

[genderqueerdykes]

is there anything that has happened since starting T that you didn't expect to happen? or that you feel you were not adequately informed about (by doctors, peers, etc), and that really should be more common knowledge?

that's such a great question, thank you for asking! that's a huge yes from me! here's what i experienced that i was definitely caught off guard by and not warned about that presented some challenges:

I was not told that because my body is changing, growing, and adjusting to a new balance in my endocrine system that i would be very exhausted for quite a while. i already have chronic fatigue but i basically struggled to get out of bed for about 2 weeks after starting T- i wasn't depressed, i was just exhausted. this is due to the fact that my muscles were becoming denser and rearranging themselves, my facial and body structure were changing, i was growing more hair, etc. that takes a lot of energy!

Similarly to the point above, no one told me that it would make you hungry as hell, and require you to eat a lot more. if you feel like you're "over eating" after just starting testosterone, you're probably not- your base caloric intake needs to increase because you are literally growing and changing, and also, high testosterone bodies tend to need more calories anyways

Body hair growth is ITCHY!!!! and sometimes even painful! growing hair in sensitive areas like your armpits, crotch and ass can be extremely uncomfortable if not painful at times. I've heard from even cis men who have told me that growing their ass hair was extremely painful and uncomfortable due to how that area is configured- if you find that hair growth is uncomfortable this is pretty normal, but always seek help if it becomes unbearable or you feel there are ingrown hairs. Also nose hair and ear hair become more of a thing, now

Testosterone will thicken your vocal cords and drop your voice, but you also have to teach yourself how to speak from your chest, or how to drop your voice to sit in a lower range naturally or else you will still sound pretty similar to your pre-transition voice, unless that is your goal. The effects are very strong, but many transmascs*, trans folk* etc. don't see as much change as they would if they also trained their voice at the same time while it's dropping

Your boobs will become flatter and sometimes smaller and a lot saggier. This is normal!

Whenever i re-start testosterone and when i started it for the first time, i had some pretty heavy menstrual periods for a while; sometimes your body reacts in the opposite way at first before totally stopping your periods altogether. it's almost like "rebound" symptom, if you know what that mean

Restless energy will very much become a thing, if you notice you're starting to get pissed off and can't place a finger on why you feel agitated and like you're going to explode, you might just need to do some physical activity for a while

that's all i could think of for now, but if i think of anything else, i'll be sure to add it to this post! thanks for asking, i hope this was informational! good luck out there in your journey!

[killergee]

Part 3! Sorry for the late update, but here's the last part, my friends. I had no idea what to do, so I fell into a good old trope. Slight nsfw, but it’s mainly just Hoshina and his dirty mind, hehe. Oh, and some kissing.

Summary: Angry, frustrated, jealous, and trapped in an elevator. Who will crack first?

P1 P2 P3

Tagslist: @surprisemodafakas @yrxhyes @voidsatoru @vash-yuu @er0ssu @rosesandquartzz

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

Hoshina knew he was the only one at fault for testing his own patience, but God was he so sure he was going to explode if things continued like this.

He wanted you to be the one to take the final step and cross the distance. He wanted to see you want him like you said you did so many months ago. To see that passion for him once again.

That didn’t mean he waited around for you to confess, though. No, he didn’t hold back when it came to you.

If anything, he became greedy when it came to you.

Hoshina didn't know how he survived before, now knowing what your touch felt like. It felt like fire on his skin. One that left a burning desire that he only knew to quell by grasping at you for more. Yet, even then, it wasn't enough. You always left him wanting more. You left him clinging to what was left of his sensibilities to not take you there and then. Hoshina thinks he must be a masochist because of how he kept pushing for more, knowing you'll reject him or that he'll have to stop himself before he goes too far and ruins everything.

Yet, when you did accept his affections, the feeling was unparalleled. When you did reciprocate, it made him feel butterflies in his stomach. It made him feel a different type of warmth, a different sense of fulfillment. One that told him it was worth it to keep trying.

So, he gave in to his desires again and again and again. As long as he doesn't straight-up confess, he still has a shot at making you take action. Right?

Hoshina groans as he finishes another one of his reports. Mina has been working him to the bone lately. Taking him out of sessions to work on mission plans, interrupting him mid lunch to accompany her to meetings, even going as far as interrupting his midnight training sessions with you to ask for his opinion on the production of a new weapon. Hoshina swears he’s barely seen you for the last two weeks because of this. To say he was a bit annoyed would be an understatement. Especially since because of his busy nature, Mina delegated his tasks to you to handle. Tasks that included working with his unit.

Now, this normally wouldn’t be a problem if Kafka hadn’t taken such a liking to you. Hoshina should’ve known Kafka would like you after he overheard your conversation with him the first time. While trapped in his office, it takes all his efforts to not jump out the window and tell Kafka to take a step back from you. He didn’t know if it was the exhaustion, stress, or withdrawal from your presence, but he felt absurdly angry at seeing you being so friendly with Kafka. Hell, even seeing you laughing with his unit left a bitter taste in his mouth.

While you and his unit seemed to be getting closer, you and Hoshina haven’t made any progress at all since that night. Hoshina felt frustrated on so many different levels and mixed with the pressure to not disappoint his superior, Hoshina was so wired he could barely sit still. He nearly snapped his pen in half just thinking about it.

He either needed to train or fuck this out of his system.

He couldn’t concentrate on anything. The words on the paper in front of him were starting to blur, and he was seconds away from writing “because this is stupid” as his rationale for rejecting proposals.

Looking up at the clock and seeing the hand tick closer to 2am, he groans into his hands and decides that the responsible choice would be to go to sleep and pray that tomorrow never came.

Putting on his jacket, he barely gives his desk a second glance as he leaves to lock the office door. Once in the elevator, he pushes the button to the fourth floor and immediately slumps against the railing on the wall of the elevator. With his hundredth sigh of the day, he tries to think on the brighter side. Since no one would be up at this god forsaken hour, he didn’t need to wait for the elevator to open on every floor.

When the elevator stops, Hoshina rolls his eyes at his luck. Looking up at the ceiling and exhaling, he doesn’t bother to acknowledge the person entering the elevator.

It wasn’t until he heard the familiar click of your tongue does he snap his head down to see you standing beside him.

There you were.

Standing with your arms crossed and staring at the doors of the elevator as if they’ve wronged you. The object of his affections and his frustrations. The person he was craving most at the moment.

Seeing you in the flesh again, skin pink probably from showering, shirt unbuttoned a little too low combined with the scent of your faded shampoo wafting through the elevator…

Fuck it, the training room will have to do, Hoshina decides, quickly leaning forward to press the button to the second floor. He can feel the weird look you’re giving him, but he decides for both of your sakes he’s going to keep looking at the doors. God, he couldn’t believe your presence alone was doing it for him. He needed out now.

But, unfortunately for him, the world continued to ignore his wishes. With a slight tremble, the elevator slows in its tracks until it abruptly stops. Not being able to believe his luck, it wasn’t until the lights began to dim that he lets out a curse.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he hears you say as you immediately dig into your pocket to get your phone. Pressing the help button on the elevator, he waits for you to finish your call with security. With the way you were scowling, he knew the news couldn’t be good. With it also being so late, he doubts anyone would come rescue you guys any time soon.

“Yea sure, we can have super suits and high-tech weapons, but god forbid we have a working elevator” you mumble sarcastically after hanging up the phone. Barely looking at him, you announce, “they said they’ll have it fixed within an hour.”

“That’s fucking great,” Hoshina groans, massaging his temples with one hand as he curses whatever god fucking with him right now. Finally turning to look at you, he notices how far you were from him. You were practically squishing yourself into the corner of the elevator to distance yourself. With the night taking away his patience, he comments without any restraint. "Now what’s got ya so pissed off?”

You turn to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

“I said what’s got ya so mad ya can’t even stand to be in the same space as me,” Hoshina scoffs, adding fuel to the flames. “Scared I got cooties? A little too late for that, I’m sure.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You hiss, anger rolling off you. The piercing glare you sent his way satisfied him in a twisted way he couldn’t understand. He’ll blame the adrenaline and the frustration.

“What are you even doing here so late? Ah, sneaking out from the Captain’s room, I’m sure." You spit venomously, mocking his phrasing. "Wasn’t satisfied enough, so you’re coming to me?”

“Now what the hell are ya going on about?”

Your eyes narrow a fraction more. “Oh sorry, Vice-Captain. Did I hit a nerve? Sad that the Captain didn’t like you enough to let you stay the night?”

“You’re being ridiculous, you’re lucky no one else is here to hear you say that. If ya weren’t you, I’d have you punished for talking about Min- Captain Ashiro like that.” Shit, he was losing his grip.

You let out a hollow chuckle devoid of any humour. “No, no, you don’t need to correct yourself like that in front of me, Vice-Captain. I won’t tell anyone,” you say, drawing out the syllables of his title.

“Don’t call me that, y/n,” he growls. “Nothing is going on betwe-”

“You think I’m fucking stupid? Everything you’ve done to me. The late night training sessions, 'working' together on reports, having lunch together, everything that we’ve done together you’re now off doing it with her.” You continue, your voice getting more heated with every word. “Her interrupting us again and again, you think I can’t take a fucking hint? I know my place now, so you don’t need to worry about anything.”  

“Y/n, it’s nothing like that. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t b-”

His explanation falls on deaf ears as you continue your angry rant. “You know what? Kafka was right.”

Heart stopping, the flash of heat Hoshina felt throughout his body broke the dam holding the last bits of his sanity. “What’s Kafka got to do with anything?”

“Kafka noticed how you two were always together for the last couple of weeks. I told him it was nothing, but I guess I owe him an apology. I’d hate to see the look on his face when I tell him.”

“Ya seriously trusting Kafka over me?”

“I mean, why not? He’s trustworthy, he’s kind, he’s reliable-”

Hoshina lets out a hostile scoff, “Oh, and I’m not?”

“He’s never touched me and then gone off and-”

“He’s never what?” Hoshina pushes off the wall, making his way into your corner. “He better not touch you the way I do. And even if he did," his eyes gleam in a dangerous manner, "he'll never be able to make you feel the way I make you feel.”

Hoshina's tone is strong and sure. “Stop talking about that damn brat and listen. Nothing is going on between me and the Captain. I do not like her like that and I can promise you I never will.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes you hesitate. But you need his words. You need solid proof that he feels the same need for you that you do for him—so you push on anyway. “How can I be sure? How can I trust you?”

Not one to backdown, you meet him in the middle before he could completely corner you. With your finger to his chest, Hoshina takes a step back. His attempt to put space between you doesn't deter you as you push forward. In fact, it emboldens you to press on until his back hits the wall and your as nose to nose as you possibly can with your height difference.

Hoshina couldn’t think straight. The only thing he hears from you is jealousy, and it's going straight down to his dick. The feel of your body on his, the heat of the argument, the intensity of your glare, he was about to snap. "Please don't do that," Hoshina hisses.

“Where’s all the heat from before? Answer my question."

"Y/n." 

The sternness of his voice makes you falter. 

His hands raise slightly in a sign of surrender. "Don't touch me if you're not willing to take responsibility for your actions." He says in a teasing voice, but even you could hear the strain in them. 

“What are you talking about.”

“If ya touch me now, I can’t promise ya that I’ll be a gentleman about it.” As if warning you about what's to come, Hoshina brings his hands down onto your hips, pulling you close until your hips press against his. His actions evoke a different kind of heat than your argument.

“How could I ever want anyone else when you’re the only one who’s always on my mind. You think everything I’ve done to ya up to this point was casual? That I was only teasing ya for fun?”

“Ya want proof? Fine.” He brings your hand to rest over his chest, his heart beating wildly at your touch. To lay it all down on the table, to bare his soul to you, he'll do it all if it means even the slightest chance you'll accept him.

"Tell me to stop and I will. Tell me to move away, to not touch you, to not love you, and I will never bother you again." He grits through his teeth. "God, tell me now so I can stop myself before it's too late." Maybe it already was, but he won't tell you that. 

At your silence, his heart plummets. Hoshina lets go of your hand. “Sorry-”

"Kiss me, asshole." 

"I- what?"

"Fine, I'll do it myself." You grab the back of his head and pull him towards you, lips crashing into his in a passionate fury.

After a beat, Hoshina hungrily returns your passion. His hands back onto your body with a fervor. The kiss was heated. It tasted like frustration, anger, jealousy and want. It was exhilarating and intoxicating and Hoshina didn’t want it to end.

Breaking the kiss for air, the intensity of your gaze sends a delightful shiver up his spine. "You drive me insane, you know that? Getting off on teasing me and then trynna back away when you finally got the chance to do something, to do anything. Do I need to spell it out for you? I want you. I want you all for myself." you say, grabbing a handful of his hair with a strength that was bordering the line between painful and amazing. 

"Take responsibility? Talk about your fucking self. You've ruined me for anyone else. Do something about it."

“Yes ma’am.” Without hesitation, Hoshina dives back in for a kiss, and all that could be felt was lips on lips and the sting of teeth.

Hands grasping at every inch of your skin, he turns you and pushes you against the wall of the elevator. Lips moving from yours to your neck, his hand hungrily tugs at the top of your shirt. Unable to control his strength, the button pops, but your gasp is replaced by a moan as he bites into the expanse of your neck.

Motivated by the sounds you make, Hoshina snakes his arm behind your back—pressing your body against his in an almost suffocating manner. Blinded by his eagerness, he didn’t notice the lights turning back on and the elevator running again. It's not until the doors ding open, and you push him away does he finally come back to his senses.

Moving away from him, you use your hand to clasp at the top of your shirt—trying to replicate the security of the button he ripped off. You have half the mind to yell at him, but the smugness in his smile makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Satisfaction reeked from his body, and his cat-like eyes raking over yours made your knees weak.

The next time the doors open, he takes your hand in his and leads you out. "This isn't my floor," you say face flushed as you knew where he was heading.

"Yep, it's mine," he replies with uncontainable excitement.

He turns his head to glance back at you. “If I knew all it took for ya to confess was to trap ya in an elevator with me, I would’ve done this much sooner.” Hoshina says with a cheeky grin, hand gripping yours in a way that said you weren’t leaving him any time soon.

You roll your eyes, but you continue to follow him anyways. A small smile tugs at your lips.

“You’re unbelievable.”

[ask-the-pioneer]

"I sure do! Watch this..."

"I can make explosive spears and throwables, just like my mom did. I can also propel myself in the air by whipping my tail very fast, which sets off the same flammable compound in my tail surface for an explosive boost. Very handy for movement, but also very loud… not great if you're trying to be stealthy. And yeah, my sibling could do that too, but he was always more interested in doing other things. An energetic but very scatterbrained kid that he was."

[She takes aim and throws the spear somewhere far away. It ignites and explodes with a loud dull bang that shakes the ground slightly]

"I can't do that too often, though. Maybe a handful of times in quick succession before my muscles tense up and burn as if scorched by flames. One time it got so bad that I lost consciousness and couldn't move for a couple of minutes after waking up. That was scary, and hurt like hell... since then I've been more careful. That said, I wonder if there are more slugcats with similar abilities to mine out there? I have not met that many scugs in my life to begin with, if I'm honest..."

"Of course I remember my family, how could I not! My sibling's name is… hmmm, right, let me explain this first. Slugcats have very good sense of smell. Usually, we know one another by our unique scents. They are incredibly complex, but can be written down as series of letters, if you map those symbols to the corresponding scent proteins and other chemical compounds. For example, my scent name would be:"

"Addmitely, this notation method is very over-engineered – a slugcat just knows you are you if they smell you. From what I learned, scugs don't really use a coherent writing system.. of any kind. I think the colonies may use pictograms? I uh, I've never been a part of a colony, so I'm missing a lot of info here. Still, what I wrote on the wall – I have used an Ancient script, which I roughly mapped to key compounds that make a scent. As you can see, it's incredibly long, it can also change over time, parts of it can be masked with non-organic aromas to hide your identity, so on and so forth. To simplify even further, these long strings of letters can be shortened to just the last three or two characters, and this is what scugs may choose to use to refer to one another. Here, my scent name is MGV."

"Then, there are names that resemble the form that the Ancients would use. It's considered more refined, and more common in big colonies where people adopt their preferable roles. Those names are viewed as a kind of «gift», because you receive it from your community. It's a symbol of how they see you, what you mean to them. Of course, my closest family was never a part of a colony… but my mom would still give me and my sibling those special names. I was named «Blue», which is the color of the sky above when it's not raining, and the color of clear water. My brother's name is «Bryn» after a very fragrant medicinal plant that relaxes your muscles when consumed. I always found it funny, as my brother was often the one getting in trouble and giving our mom heartaches."

[She pauses for a moment, thinking intensively]

"Hmm, I never thought of asking my mother about her name. I wonder if she had one? To me and it was always just «mom»…"

"My other parent? I never knew him. Must have left just before or right after my mom had me, because there is literally nothing I remember of him… or them… whoever they were."

[She takes some pearls out from her bag, and inspects them one by one just to keep her hands busy]

"Mom would never talk about him, as if he never existed. And I never questioned her, I was too young to understand and simply accepted everything at face value. It was just the way things were. Would I want to meet my other parent? Maybe, but I doubt it'd make a difference. What would I even say to them? «Thanks for abandoning mom and leaving her to fend for herself»? "

"I don't know. Maybe I'm too harsh. Maybe he was a hero who sacrificed themself to save my mother. That could explain why he was never seen or heard of again. But… I have no way of knowing for sure. It's the life I won't be getting back anyway."

// In the second drawing, I've used logographs from @ikayblythe's Standard Hegemonic Dialect

[woso-dreamzzz]

Illness

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: You hide an illness

If you weren't delirious with a fever and sweating bullets, you would have described this moment as the most embarrassing moment of your life.

The semi-final El Clásico was one of the most important of the season and it was such bad luck that you had fallen ill the week before. It was most likely the flu but you never went to any doctor to get it checked out. Instead, you hunkered down in your apartment and refused to leave until you got better.

Only, you never did get fully better. Your immune system was as strong as a wall of feathers so you just decided to channel your inner Oscar winner and pretend you were fine.

You arrived at training every day after taking enough painkillers to fell an ox and hydrate yourself to the point that you were sure that your bladder had to force itself to grow.

It paid off though because you were part of the squad going to Madrid and you caught up on sleep during the train ride so could keep up your façade all the way up to the match day.

Your head was pounding as you finally stepped onto the pitch about ten minutes after half time, sliding easily into Lucy's position as the ball went back into play.

Thankfully, football was an instinct rather than a conscious thought at this point and even with a banging headache, achy limbs and a blocked nose, you played without much issue.

"Hey," Irene said as you took a little break from running to walk over to the corner that was being set up," You okay? You're slower than usual today."

You fanned yourself with your jersey. "Just a little hot."

She gave you an odd look. "It isn't that hot. You haven't been on the pitch for long."

You gave her a shrug and lied straight to her face," Really? I guess I'm just running warm today." You picked up the pace and slotted yourself between Athenea and Olga.

It was almost slow motion as Salma sent a cross into the box. Olga tried to push you forward and away while Athenea's elbow stabbed you straight in the eye.

You dropped like a brick backwards into Olga, who surprised by your sudden weight, dropped you on the floor. Your head banged painfully against the grass and you groaned.

There was a slight ringing in your ears but you couldn't focus on anything but the desperate churning of your stomach. You squeezed your eyes tight to try to stem the swirling but it just made stars explode behind your eyelids as your face throbbed from Athenea's elbow.

Your stomach bubbled up and you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, kid, you okay?" It was Irene and she jostled you slightly.

That was what did it and you rolled over onto your stomach just in time to surrender your dinner.

You burst into tears, sobbing into the grass.

"Holy shit, y/n," Mariona said," You're burning up! Are you sick?"

"You're sick?!"

You continued to cry into the grass. With your usual caretaker (Alexia) out of the team for the rest of the month, it meant Irene was in charge of you.

You couldn't decide if you would rather Alexia at this moment.

"Go away," You cried into the grass.

"Can't do that," Ingrid said as she crouched over you," The medics are coming to get you."

You turned your head to look at her.

"She got you good, huh?" Ingrid said, her fingers ghosting over your swollen eye.

"Ingrid," You croaked out," My head hurts."

"I'm sure. That was a nasty fall."

"Hurt before that too."

She made a sympathetic noise as she helped you sit up for the medics to have a proper look at you.

You were escorted straight off when they checked the dilation of your pupils.

Lucy trailed back with you along with Marta, who looked to already be on the phone with Alexia. You knew your caretaker would be watching the match so it wasn't a surprise that she had already called someone the moment you went down.

"Got quite the shiner there," Lucy commented as she inspected your bruised eye," Trying to look like Mapi?"

"At least it isn't bleeding," You said before descending into a coughing fit, thumping at your chest to try and regain your breath.

Lucy laughed but quietened when Marta held the phone out to you. You tried to ignore the sinking feeling you felt when you saw Alexia's contact picture.

You cleared your throat.

"Hola?"

"I knew it!" Alexia declared.

"Know what?" You tried to play dumb even though your whole body protested.

"When I saw you yesterday and you told me you were back to full health! I knew you were lying to me! You're still sick!"

"Barely." Your defence didn't help when you started coughing again.

"You sound horrible," Alexia said bluntly," You're not playing the final. I'll have you benched."

"I'll be benched anyway. I've got a bruise the size of my fucking country on my eye and a concussion, probably."

"We'll have a talk about hiding illness when you get home," Alexia said," And I'll have to leave a message for your captain."

You would have rolled your eyes if it didn't cause a whole new pain to shoot through your skull. Your nose was all blocked up again so the pressure in your head was only mounting. "You're my captain."

"Your national captain."

"Oh, what? You can't tell Leah! She'll go barmy! I'll be lectured for hours!"

"You're being lectured regardless, by me," Alexia said," Now, rest up, drinks lots and I'll see you in a few days."

You didn't even get the chance to watch the end of the match because Marta forced you back to the hotel and into your room.

"No screens," She said when you moved to turn on the tv.

"Well, what else am I meant to do?" You complained, blowing out your nose.

"Well, for one, you can use the bucket on the floor if you feel like you're going to be sick."

"I'm not going to throw up."

"You threw up on the pitch." Marta just had to remind you of the most embarrassing moment of your life and your cheeks flushed red out of embarrassment now instead of your fever.

"But I won't now."

Marta didn't get time to respond because the door to your room got thrown open and Patri sprawled herself next to you on the bed.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," She teased, dumping some chocolate onto your lap.

"Patri," Marta groaned," She's sick and injured. She needs rest."

"She needs company. She's still human. You can't just lock her in her room like she's Rapunzel."

Marta rolled her eyes and swatted at Patri. "She doesn't need you hindering her recovery. Go on, out with you."

"Nah," Patri said as she got comfortable," I think I'll stay here. Besides, y/n wants me to stay."

You sent Marta your most pathetic and sad look.

"Please, Marta?" You begged," I promise she'll help me. It'll be nice to have some company."

Marta sighed deeply. "Fine but just for now. This all might change by the time Alexia gets her."

You groaned and flopped back to lay against your pillows properly. "Don't remind me."

[phant0mth1ef]

chapter 2: “again? really?”

“so are we going to address the elephant in the room or are we going to pretend like a popular streamer isn’t thirsting over bakugou?” kirishima’s voice was the first to break the air, his friends all silently eating around him.

midoriya was the first to put his fork down, grabbing his cloth as he wiped his mouth, a man of manners.

“i think it’s funny. even funnier how kacchan replied and never told us anything about this!” the man in question peeked one eye up as he leaned in to put his fork into his mouth, simultaneously side eyeing midoriya.

“i don’t know how he thought he’d be able to hide this from us!” kaminari and mina had exploded into laughter from their seats across the table, the duo adding onto their joke the moment they begun to come down from their high.

“tch. it’s not a big deal! all i did was reply to some tweet. i don’t get why you’re all acting like it’s so bad.” he dropped his fork back onto his plate as he grunted.

“here’s the thing, bakugou. we know it’s not a big deal. we as in those of us who are sitting around this table, but your fans are rabid. they’re going to think that you’re flirting with her.” todoroki spoke, the first time anybody had heard the man talk at all that night.

“i’ve seen someone with the username bakugoustoecrust before, shouto’s right.” mina stopped her laughter with denki, chiming in about what she’d seen on twitter one night while mindlessly scrolling.

the topic was dropped soon after, everyone returning to their meals as they ate in silence, an occasional quip coming out of kaminari as the sounds of people going about their usual day were heard.

the restaurant door dinged, signaling the arrival of two people just as the group was about to leave, your blonde friend quickly grinning at who he had just seen.

“what’re you so happy about?” you were currently working off a hangover from the previous night, it seems that everytime you’d go out with neito, you’d either leave with alcohol in your system, or you’d encounter the man you’d been making thrist posts about.

you were suddenly wide awake as you turned your head back to its normal position, seeing a man with blonde hair and bright red eyes staring at you, a scowl on his face.

your cheeks flushed, unable to hide your embarassment as neito begun to greet the group, forcing you to stand behind him while he greeted the group of famous pro’s.

you weren’t famous. you’d like to consider yourself as popular, but you’d never in a million years be able to put yourself out there to save people the way they do, so you sit and play video games in your room.

“hey there! you’re y/n, right?” the green haired man was in front of you in a flash, making you back up a little as his nose almost hit yours.

“yes, hello. it’s nice to meet you.” you smiled softly as you could see his eyes roaming around your body, it’s been runoured that he was really just an energetic person who liked to know things about people.

“what’s your quirk?? i’ve been dying to know.” he was such a bright presence, it was nearly impossible for you to pretend that you hadn’t heard him.

“oh! um, i can just, well it’s better if i show you.” you stepped aside, a small hole appearing in the floor as you were dropped into it, you’d reappeared on the other side of midoriya.

“just drop through the ground and reappear. but it really isn’t that great, my limit is about fifteen feet so i can’t move too far.” you sheepishly put a hand on the back of your neck, tilting it slightly.

“i think it’s a great quirk!” he left just as suddenly as he appeared, leaving you face to face with the number two pro hero, dynamight.

“tch.” oh he hated you. just great. he’s not going to like what had happened last night while you were intoxicated.

“well alright then! if you don’t mind, we’ll be going, this lunch won’t wait.” neito grabbed your arm, dragging you along with him as you stumbled before catching yourself.

“he hates me.” you murmured as you took your seat inside the booth that neito had led you to.

“just a bit! he’ll get over it.” the door jingled as the big group exited, but a pair of vermillion eyes never left your figure, at least not until you were out of sight.

that action didn’t go unnoticed by his friends.

tags! : @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @pixiesluver

ignore how the timestamp says 8 am, this is supposed to be the tweet from when you were drunk lol

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

HiHIHI HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A GOOD DAY JUST WANTED TO SAY I LOVE YOUR WORKS

I just binge read every single one of your Boothill fics and they all got me kicking my feet and everything!! I love how you write him and Ore is so cute I could actually explode 💥💥💥

Take your time or you can choose to ignore but can I have a request of Ore going missing (it's very small if I recall, so I kinda imagine it getting stuck under the couch or something) and just Boothill helping to look for it? TYSM IF YOU DO!

thank you so much for reading and enjoying my content!! I honestly dont know if i'll ever be able to write a boothill fic without making the reader some sort of mechanic. i may just stop breathing if i try- you can pry mechanic reader out of my cold dead hands

[1k w.count]

but just imagine, boothill isn't even on planet. he's off somewhere else when his phone starts pinging like nuts. back to back messages and before his text-to-voice can kick in, it starts blaring with phone calls.

"dadgummit..! who in the-" boothill huffs and puff as he fishes his phone from the space beside him where he had left it charging. his irritation all but simmered down when he saw your contact name flash across his screen.

...sugar is calling...

one his brows quirk up and he almost frowns at the incoming call. the hell is this? you never call him. like ever. you dont really call anyone really- more of a messaging kindof person. not to say he wasn't thrilled to hear from you though.

"is blowin' up my phone a new hobby of yours or somethin'?" boothill doesn't bother with a hello when he answers. neither do you.

"i can't find it!" you screech into the receiver. the feedback from the call's inital pick up and your yelling has the cowboy pulling his phone from his ear with a wince. beside the feedback shot into his eardrum, the sound of something metal being... knocked over...? also enters his head.

"sugar, you know i aint got a clue what you're talkin' about. i'm not in your star system right now," boothill tries to reason. you sound pretty distressed all things considered. so, he should at least hear you out. if all else, he can turn this ship around and speed it back to you.

he hears you whine; a whine that soon escalates into a full-on frustrated groan. oh. you were definitely upset about something. the only other times he's heard you like this is when a project isn't working out at any angle at all and you're one step away from throwing it out the window.

"it's ore." your voice is muffled behind your hand as you speak. "i lost it." you sound so pitiful as you confess your shame in losing the small robot companion boothill had brought back for you a while ago now. "i took my eyes off it for two seconds- and it was just... gone!" ore was so small; it should be common knowledge that the robot can hide just about anywhere it can squeeze itself into- but it usually trails around after you like a lost puppy! so, you've gotten sloppy at keeping an eye on it.

"you're blowin' up my phone because you lost track of your lil' assistant robot?" on one hand, boothill feels a little flattered that you feel like you can call him for stuff like this. the stuff that isn't really life threatening or to only deliver horribly, dire news. just something that's more or less inconvenient. on the other? he's almost annoyed because what if he was in the middle of a bounty? he isn't... but what if.

eh, whatever, he wouldn't be mad even if that were the case.

"look," boothill swallows back a chuckle and forces out a sigh, "i'm sure it ain't far. lil' guy never wanders off too far from you. just sit tight and it'll right back come to you."

"but what if it doesn't? what if ore's like lost-lost. like super lost? i can't just-"

"sugar," boothill interrupts you. "remind me again who programmed it?"

theres a beat of silence. "me."

"uh-huh, that's right. and didn't that very same you also program him with the maps of locations you frequent, like your shop?"

"i did."

"and why's that, sugar?" boothill has taken to plopping himself down in one of the chairs in his ship. luckily the spacecraft has an auto-pilot function as well as a cruise function when he was preoccupied- like now- or when he wasn't on an active job. there's a smirk on his face. he wonders if you can hear it through your slight panic.

"so that if it got lost... it'd know the way back."

"bingo," boothill snaps his free fingers together. "so, just calm down."

the phone call lasts not too much longer. a few more worried words from you, as well as a slight pout that you had lost what he had given you which almost made his systems overheat. with a few more reassurances that ore would make its way back to your loving palms sooner than you'd think, the call ends.

the galaxy ranger laughs when he finally see's just how many messages you spammed him with before deciding to just call him. there was wayyy too many. he wishes he was more tech-smart so he could screenshot the damage and send it to you as a tease.

still, despite the absurdity of it all, boothill was glad you called. even though you were frantic, he was happy to hear your voice. then he huffs and deflates in his chair, knees spread apart and back slouched low against the back. if he still had human bones, his spine would surley disapprove of such a position.

now he just misses you. dammit.

two system hours later, his phone pings. another message from you with a picture attatched.

[sugar]: he crawled up under the workshop sofa and got stuck in a spring. i finally heard him beeping after i stopped tossing things around [image attached] [sugar]: might install a tracking program

boothill chuckles softly as he looks at the photo of you. soot and oil splotch on your nose and cheeks from whatever you were tinkering with that day. your googles were around your neck and he was glad to see you were still using them as you should be. on your shoulder was ore. hooked into its safety carabiner and using its little, metal arms to hug to your cheek. its digital expression was scrunched up with fake, pixeled tears.

damn. boothill really wishes he was more tech-savvy now. i mean come one! what kind of cyborg can be nearly all robot, know how to steer and command a spaceship and still not know how to change a phone's background!

next time he's by the express, he'll have to ask dan heng.

[pretzel-box]

Idea for a reverse au fic?

Reader gets flashed by a passing Expendable. How would Sebastian (and reader) take it?

REVERSE AU MASTERLIST HERE

PART 6: RIGHT IN SIGHT

Tags: Light jokes, some action, reader and seb encountering a possible enemy

Words: 1,6k

The sterile, metallic halls of the Hadal Blackside stretched out before you and Sebastian as the two of you moved quietly, scavenging for any useful supplies. Despite the ominous setting, the atmosphere between the two of you was light and carefree as always. You tossed jokes back and forth between each other, your banter echoing softly in the cold, dimly lit corridor. It was rare to get moments like this, where the tension of your reality seemed to melt away and you could focus on the cute human right by your side.

“Look, if we don’t find any decent scrap soon, I’m just gonna start decorating our hideout with broken tech. Really give it that ‘desperate survivor’ vibe,” Sebastian quipped, a grin on his face as he glanced over at you. He liked to impress you with his crappy jokes, taking in the way your expression shifts every single time into one of laugher and joy.

You chuckled, your claws lightly tapping against the floor as you sifted through some debris. “Well, at least if we don’t find anything, we can hang up your terrible sense of humor for decoration.”

He shot you a mock-offended look, not expecting such a good comeback. “Wow. Harsh. And here I thought I was your favorite human.”

You smirked, glancing over at him, your sharp, artificial eyes glowing faintly in the low light. “Well, you are my only human, Seb. That makes you both the best and the worst.”

Sebastian laughed, his voice warm, and for a moment, the cold, underwater world around you felt a little less hostile. It was moments like this that reminded you why you stuck together, why despite all the dangers, you and Sebastian had found a strange, unbreakable bond in this twisted place. Human and experiment—survivors, somehow managing to hold onto something normal in the midst of the chaos.

As you continued searching, something caught your attention—a small device partially buried beneath a pile of broken tech. You crouched down, pulling it free and inspecting it. “Hey, think this could be useful?” you asked, holding it up for Sebastian to see.

He moved closer, studying it for a moment. “Maybe. Could be some old keycard or part of another similar thing. We can figure it out back at the shop.” He grinned again, leaning in just a little too close. “Or, you know, it could just be more junk for your decorating project.” His words hitting your ears, giving you a small shiver down your back, one of the good kind.

Before you could retort, a sudden flash of light exploded in the hallway, blinding you instantly. The sharp, searing brightness hit your sensors like a sledgehammer, causing you to stagger back with a sharp cry. You instinctively raised your arms to shield your face, but it was too late—the damage was done.

“Shit!” Sebastian cursed, his voice suddenly serious, filled with panic. He grabbed your arm, trying to steady you. “Hold on, I’ve got you—”

The flash beacon. You knew the feeling all too well. It was a device designed to disable experiments like you, to overload your optical systems and incapacitate you. Your vision flickered wildly, and the surge of light made your entire body feel disoriented, unstable. Whoever it was—they knew exactly how to neutralize you.

“Seb…” you rasped, struggling to regain control of your vision, but it was hard to focus, hard to even stand with your lack of balance. Your body felt like it was shutting down, forced into a state of emergency reboot.

Sebastian tightened his grip on your arm, his eyes darting around the hallway as he scanned for whoever had used the beacon. “Stay with me, okay? Don’t worry. We’re getting out of here,” he said, his voice full of determination. He quickly crouched, grabbing a piece of scrap metal as a makeshift weapon.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and you both knew that whoever was behind the attack was getting closer. You could feel the weight of the situation pressing down, but you couldn’t help but curse internally—this was supposed to be a routine scavenging trip. A fun, light-hearted break from the usual dangers.

But now, everything had turned dangerous.

“Can you move?” Sebastian asked urgently, his arm slipping around your waist to help you stand.

You groaned, trying to focus through the buzzing in your head. “Yeah... I think so. Just... need a second.”

“We don’t have a second,” he muttered, glancing down the corridor again, his expression grim.

With Sebastian’s support, you managed to take a shaky step, but your body still felt off, uncooperative. It was taking longer than usual to recover, and the frustration gnawed at you. You were supposed to protect him, not the other way around.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though your voice was shaky, the lie obvious. “Let’s just... get out of here.”

But before either of you could move, another blinding light filled the hallway. You felt Sebastian’s body tense beside you, and through your still-fragmented vision, you could see the silhouette of a figure approaching—whoever they were, they were armed, and they weren’t here to help.

“Stay behind me,” Sebastian whispered, his voice low and tense.

Even in your weakened state, you couldn’t stand the idea of Sebastian putting himself in harm’s way for you. You were the experiment, the one designed to handle danger, not him. But as the figure drew closer, you realized that this time, it wasn’t going to be so easy.

“Seb...” you started, but before you could say anything more, a sound filled the hallway and three red dots pointed at you—a turret, aimed directly at the two of you.

The moment the turret whirred to life, its mechanical sound sent a jolt of adrenaline through your systems. The barrel locked onto you and Sebastian, a low hum signaling that it was ready to fire.

"Seb, get behind me!" you shouted, your voice cutting through the chaos.

Sebastian didn’t hesitate, ducking behind a pile of debris as you moved toward the turret. You felt your senses returning bit by bit, the effects of the flash beacon still present but waning. The danger of the turret, however, forced your mind into sharp focus.

The mysterious figure, cloaked in shadows, smirked before glancing up at the vent near the floor. They were quick, nimble, and clearly had the upper hand in this situation. You knew they were planning to escape, but you couldn’t focus on them right now—not with the turret locked onto you both.

The turret's motor clicked, and you heard it ready to fire. You dove behind a nearby crate as it began unleashing a barrage of bullets, pinging off the walls and scattering bits of metal everywhere.

“Damn it,” you muttered under your breath. You peeked out from behind the crate, your eyes locking onto the base of the turret. You could see it—a control panel just beneath the rotating barrel. If you could just reach it, you might be able to disable the turret before it turned Sebastian or you into scrap metal.

“I’ll cover you!” Sebastian shouted, grabbing a nearby chunk of debris and tossing it toward the turret. It clanged off the barrel, momentarily redirecting its attention.

Now’s your chance.

You launched yourself out from behind the crate, hurrying toward the turret as it recalibrated its aim. The whir of the barrel grew louder, and you could feel the heat of the bullets whizzing past you, narrowly missing as you zigzagged toward the base. Your claws dug into the ground as you slid to the control panel, your fingers immediately working to pry it open.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the figure climbing into the vent, the grating pulled aside. They paused for a split second, glancing back at you and Sebastian, a look of triumph in their eyes. Then, with one swift movement, they disappeared into the vent, the cover sliding back into place.

“No time to worry about them now,” you growled, focusing on the control panel in front of you. The wires were a mess of colors, tangled and confusing, but you didn’t have the luxury of being careful. The turret’s barrel shifted again, locking back onto you, and you knew you had seconds before it would fire.

With a sharp inhale, you jammed your claw into the circuitry, pulling a handful of wires free. Sparks flew, and for a moment, the turret seemed to stall. Its motor whirred in confusion, the barrel twitching as if trying to re-engage its targeting system. You ripped another cluster of wires loose, praying you hit the right ones.

Suddenly, the turret powered down with a groan, the barrel slumping to the side as its lights blinked out. The hallway fell into a heavy silence, the echo of the gunfire still lingering in your ears.

You exhaled in relief, leaning back against the wall as your systems tried to calm down from the sudden burst of activity.

Sebastian emerged from behind the debris, wide-eyed and impressed. “Holy crap, you did it.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, wiping the back of your hand across your forehead. “But they got away.”

Sebastian glanced up at the vent, frowning. “Figures. Whoever they were, they knew this place too well. But I’m not worried about them right now.”

He crouched down next to you, his expression softening. “You alright? That was a close one.”

You managed a tired grin. “Takes more than a turret to take me down. But I must admit, I was almost as pierced as a slice of cheese.”

He chuckled, giving you a pat on the shoulder. “Good to know. Let’s just hope there aren’t more surprises like that waiting for us. Also…a cute slice of cheese.”

The compliment made you break into a smile despite the thoughts in your head.

As you both stood and began to gather yourselves, you couldn’t shake the lingering thought of the figure who had escaped. They were fast, resourceful, and clearly knew how to navigate the facility. But right now, your priority was survival.

[aluciahaz]

Omfggg ur writing is SO unbelievably good i love it sm 😭🙏🙏

I got kind of a prompt for a sub!vox x gn (maybe afab) reader ✨ Okay so what if, since we all know vox is OBVIOUSLY a bratty bottom, the reader fucks the brattiness out of him? And he goes from trying to be a dom, to resistant bottom, to bratty bottom, to just begging to come with all his life, maybe even crying cuz the reader won’t let him

TYSM!!!! im glad you think my writing’s good ❤️ALSO FINALLY A VOX REQ AGHH

i have like 50094949 drafts for like all of the other stuff in my inbox but i just have to write this vox fic first ok im self indulgent i apologize 😭

—vox x gn!reader

—includes : sub!vox, dom!reader, light bondage, edging

vox is so obvious.

he clearly has a thing for control. a need, a desire. it was practically his core personality trait. yet, he’s most certainly not made to wield it.

sure, he can try and sweet talk you, saying sultry things and bragging about his power in order to get you to feel below his level. but you know how frail that persona is. a single slip up, and it would all come crashing down into deafening static.

which, was almost impressively easy to do.

his claw-like fingers runs up your neck, one of them stopping at your cheek as he smirked. if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck up and draw blood. he was tip-toeing the small line here.

a small line that if he crossed, you’d switch up this silly little game immediately, taking the control of the show and making him the contestant.

live only for you.

but, you entertain his farce of dominance, a smile playing on your lips as you see what he has in store…if he had anything, that is.

“you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” he asks, clearly rhetorical as he caresses your cheek gently, his voice steady as he speaks. he leads you down to the bed with teeth raking your neck as he crawls over you. there’s something fun about watching him try and fluster you, to get you to say the things he wants. but you were no people pleaser.

“perhaps. unfortunately i can’t say the same for you,” you respond, your smile forming into more of a smirk at the ends of your lips as your hands snake around his delicate waist, tightening around it like a corset.

you can already see the hesitation in his eyes, the brief moment of surprise at your sudden grasp. it was too easy to surprise this man. it’s a wonder he hasn’t exploded yet.

“what do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both nervousness and curiosity, almost like he didn’t want to know. the fingers on your cheek seem to barely just get too rough as he looked at you.

“don’t act like i didn’t hear you in the office this morning, moaning my name like some prayer,” you mock, your knee slotting between his legs with ease. vox keels over at the sudden feeling, a sharp gasp getting punched out of his system with little effort.

“impatient.”

“what’s the big deal? am i not allowed to jerk off anymore?” he complains, bringing himself back up to his hand and knees over you as he glares with indignation.

“i told you to wait.”

“and i don’t remember needing to!” vox snarled, the grasp on your face tightening until you saw him pull it away, a droplet of blood adorning his finger.

simply unacceptable.

instantly, with a loud yelp of complaint and confusion, he hits the mattress with a thud, cursing in annoyance as he looks up at you. his face, once filled with irritation, shifted into one of almost astonished fear as he gazed upon your expression, cold and unforgiving.

“i’ll make you remember.”

his screen flickers before going back to normal, his face scrunched up in anger as he spat out his unwise words.

“i’d like to see you try.”

so, try you did.

his hands were cuffed with plush handcuffs to the bed-frame—you know he wouldn’t be able to handle real ones—and of course since he was never good with self-control, he had a cock ring on as a ‘treat’.

you’re delighted by how much of a fight he puts up though. considering how fragile his ego is, you were sure that he’d melt into your hands the moment you bound him to the bed.

“this is your plan?” vox rolled his eyes, watching you pour lubricant on your fingers with an unimpressed look. “not very impressive. you’ll need more—ngh! shit! give a guy some warning—!”

“beggars can’t be choosers.”

“i don’t fucking beg—!”

“you will.”

there was no mercy from that point forth. one finger after the other, shocks of electricity would course through his veins, mouth agape as your quick hand inside kept making him feel sparks of pleasure through his entire body.

“let me—cum! ass—zz—hole!” he shouted, tugging at the handcuffs to no avail. he wanted to touch himself so bad, yet you were adamant.

“if you ask nicely, maybe,” you tell him, circling your fingers before pressing deep onto that electric spot again, making him cry out in frustration and enjoyment.

all he could do was shoot you a disgusted look before yelling once more, kicking the blanket underneath him in exasperation. his anguish crackled through his veins like a current, trying to fight the urge to just submit.

but it was all too much. he was weak, even if he convinces all of hell that he’s not, he wouldn’t be able to fool you. the bucks of your fingers were replaced with the movement of your hips, making him wail for more.

an hour had passed, and his indignant claims of “i don’t feel anything!” or “you’ll never get me to beg!” shifted into more pleasant glitching screams of “don’t stop!” and “please, more!”

finally, he was using his manners.

“let me cum—ple—zz—se! i c-can’t—!” vox cried out as you quicken the pace, thrashing underneath you with his legs now wrapped around your waist, holding for dear life as you drive into him.

“i—hic—mm! ‘m s—zz—sorry! ‘msorry-AH! sorry!” his back curves off the bed as he squirms, crying in earnest now. tears fell his face with broken pixels blinking in and out underneath, his screen cutting at random points to an error warning from the overstimulation.

“pathetic,” you spit out, your hands digging into his hips as you practically manhandled the man, making him move once he lost all the energy to match your movements. “you listen to me. you do what i say, and you don’t talk back.”

you hear him shriek desperately as you grab his cock, red and weeping as you overwhelm him with pleasure, but never letting him over the edge.

“do you understand? you’re mine.”

you run your finger underneath his tip, and you see him glitch out into an expression you truly loved.

his screen was tear stained and his were graphics broken, yet it was clear enough to see the hypnotizing hearts that pulsated in his eyes as he yelled in defeat, small whimpers leaving his ruined throat as he babbled on and on.

“yours! your—yours! ngh—! please! pl—let me cum! plea—zz—oh, FUCK!”

his whole body trembles from need like electricity burned his skin. his legs fall from your waist, too weak to hold them around you anymore, yet you catch them, pushing the underside of his thighs until he was folded in half.

“cum for me then.”

instantly, vox does as you say as you slip the cock ring off of him, his wails loud enough to shake the room as he finds his release. his screen completely blanks out for a second as a shock flitters around his wrists, frying the cuffs and making them break into two before slumping back down to the bed.

you can’t even scold him for letting his powers go rampant before he pulls you over him, wrapping his arms around you as he sniffles into your ear.

“thank you—hic—thank…thank…”

this big baby. you sigh, rubbing your hands on his sides gently as you kiss his cheek. “yeah, yeah. just remember this the next time you think about acting out, okay?” you said quietly, feeling him nod into your shoulder as he starts to slowly relax.

but as per usual, he apparently forgets what you taught him in the next week.

fortunately, you’re a patient teacher. and you’ll remind him again and again about the lessons he foolishly dismisses.

sorry that this is shit 💀 i tried my best but the writing juices arent flowing this week😭 hopefully this weekend i wont have writer’s block and will blast through all yall’s reqs!! trust me, im working on them <3

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist

[wosoamazing]

Against All Odds

Summary: You find yourself with a career ending injury, but Beth and Viv, your guardians and Leah are there for you. Based on this request.

Warnings: Death (mentions of fact Rs parents are dead), allusions to cancer, very bad knee injury, hospitals, paramedics, passing out, one section contains talks of Leah’s endometriosis, a bit sad -> Let me know if there is anything else.

A/N: I really liked this when I first wrote it, but I don't know anymore, maybe just because I hate editing so I was projecting my feelings about editing onto my fic. But anyway I hope you like it.

You were part of the AWFC and the Lionesses, however football wasn’t the only sport you played in at a professional level, you were also a Track and Field athlete, you were a youth world champion, but not many people knew, the Soccer seemed to outshine the Athletics, so no one found out. It was getting close to the stage of having a discussion with the British Olympic Association about whether you were going to do both Football and Athletics at the olympics or whether you could only do one, and if you could only do one whether you got to make the choice or if they did. But that conversation was no longer needed. Team GB wasn’t going to be at the Olympics for Women’s Football so you only had one choice, and that was Athletics, however there wasn't really the question of whether you would qualify or not. It was a certainty now that you were going to the Olympics, considering the fact you were running sub 10.6 for 100 metres. You actually qualified for the 2020 Olympics but you were only 13, so it was decided you weren't going, even though you were faster than some of the athletes you were just too young.

You were one stride away from the finish line, you had done it, shown that even despite your age you deserved to be at the olympics, that last stride would cause you to have run sub 10.7 at the qualifiers, which was a good time, since you hadn’t trained in 6 months, due to the World Cup and England Olympic qualifiers. However that last stride went wrong, you still made it across the finish line, but something went badly wrong, a shooting tearing splitting pain went through your knee as your body collapsed onto the ground, tears were streaming out of your eyes, your surrounds were a haze, heaps and heaps of bright yellow people surround you, they were paramedics you think, they were asking you questions, but it hurt too much to process anything. Your brain was also preoccupied with the fact that you would most likely not be going to the Olympics this year, or maybe even never. You weren't dumb, you couldn't actually process what the paramedics were saying, nor had you seen your knee, but there was no way this was a simple injury, your knee felt like it had exploded, a bomb had gone off, this was a big injury, if the pain causing you to be on the verge of passing out wasn't enough to tell you this, the immediate arrival of like 10 paramedics was definitely enough to tell you something really bad had happened. Your world was literally crumbling around you, you needed football and track, you didn’t want to face the fact that you might never get to be a pro again. You thought you heard someone say something about moving you onto a stretcher and to the ambulance before you passed out.

_____

“Viv, has she sent you a message? She isn’t replying to any of mine, she should be here by now.”

“Maybe it's just run over time and so she is still racing.” Viv replied, trying to comfort Beth.

Beth and Viv were two of the three teammates who knew about your athletics. You couldn't really keep it from them, considering you did live with them, the trophies, the photos, the ‘shrines’ you had. Leah also knew, as you went to the same school and due to the schools sport buddy system she was your sport buddy, you messaged her almost daily since you were 10 and looked up to her so much, she was an inspiration to you. However, Leah never realised how much you actually did idolise her until she saw said ‘shrines’ when she came into your room the day you were setting it up, to give you a present. She looked around the room, above your desk she saw your Mum’s last olympic Jersey framed, with photos of you and her at the track surrounding it in a heart shape. There was also a single photo in the middle of the heart of you and her, you were holding a massive trophy and a huge grin was plastered on your face, but she couldn't help but notice how weak your Mum looked she was in a wheelchair, then it clicked that was the last time your Mum saw you run. You had just won your first junior athletics championships, in that photo, it was a week before your Mum died. Leah knew that because you told her one day, when she asked you which sport you would choose, you said you would forever do both. She then saw the photo from your Dad’s military honour funeral, along with his cap hung next to it, above your dresser which was placed just next to your desk, another heart surrounded it, but this time it was photos of him and his platoon wearing their Y/L/N bibs watching your races at the championships while they were deployed, a photo of him in rehab, kicking a ball to you after he lost his leg and was learning how to use to prosthetic one so he could go back to duty, the photo of your Dad’s platoon surprising you at on of your competitions just after you Dad had died on duty was also there. Between the two hearts was a family of the three of you, you were only small, it hurt her to think that was most likely one of the last family photos you had, you were just so young. She then turned to see what the third ‘shrine’ you were in the middle of making was. She saw you placing framed letters, certificates, medals, and photos in a heart shape around yet another item and photo of someone who helped you massively and inspired you, expect this time she felt her heart grow warm, it was her england debut shirt, she had signed and gifted to you, along with a photo of you mid jump into her arms, after the 2020 Euros Final, celebrating her win with her. You saw your so called shrines your three lifes, your Athletics life which was inspired by your Mum, your everyday life which you attributed to your Dad, and your Football life which was inspired by Leah.

There was also another reason Beth and Viv knew about the athletics and that was because you had no other family, and someone had to sign permission slips, and when you moved in with Beth and Viv and they become your legal guardians according to the state, meaning that they were the ones now required to sign permission slips, so they knew everything.

—

“Viv, I’m going to go call her,” “Okay,” Viv said as she saw Leah walking towards her.

“How did she go?” Leah asked Viv, “We don’t know she hasn't replied to us.” Viv said as Beth started walking back over.

“She wont answer,” “Shit” the next three minutes Beth and Viv continuously called you.

“Beth we need to go now,” “What why,” “She got hurt badly, she is in surgery currently,” “Why didn’t they call us, to get consent for surgery. Shit, it's bad, let's go.”

They rushed off from training, and drove as fast as possible to the hospital. Leah stayed to inform Jonas and finish training before she quickly found herself, driving to the hospital, knee bouncing, hoping you were semi okay.

_____

When you woke up from surgery Beth and Viv were either side of you, holding your hands in theirs. A doctor walked in shortly after you woke up, to update you on your condition.

“Split Patella. Torn MCL and meniscus, partially torn LCL. Patella ligament was torn slightly in half vertically due to the separation of the Patella. Pins in the patella, sutures in the LCL and Patella ligament, meniscus was cleaned and sutured. In the end we went with a graft to fix the MCL in hopes to have a better recovery. No one actually can figure out how it happened, but it’s lucky your didn't tear your ACL or PCL.”

“Yeah but everything else is torn or split, would prefer just an ACL”

“Sorry about that, she comes with a bit of an attitude,” Beth said, as Viv glared at you, you just glared back, you were right after all, he was making it seem like nothing, when literally everything was stuffed.

He just dismissed it and continued “You’ll be lucky to walk normally again, let alone run or play football again. And even if you do somehow ever get back to running or playing football it will never be anywhere near the professional level.”

“I want a new doctor please,” You said to him blankly

“Hey, that's not very nice” “Yeah well I’ve seen what happens when doctors don’t have hope. I don’t want this halfwit in charge of my recovery, if it was up to him he would probably just put me in a wheelchair and be done with it. People come back from injuries that seem impossible to come back from. People lose limbs and still go back to war, it’s not impossible, as long as you’re not lazy. Just someone get me a new doctor. And you can go, I can’t believe you even got to operate on me.” He scoffed and walked out. You were fuming, your breath increased, your face turned into game mode and your nostrils started to flare, Beth and Viv knew that had to do something, so they tried to comfort you.

“Hey it's okay” Beth said as she rubbed her thumb on the back of the hand she was holding. You turned to her and glared at her before yelling at her. “No its fucking not, this isn’t okay, nothing about this is okay or fair or fine. Just leave, I want to be alone.” They both slightly jumped before quickly getting up and leaving. You felt your response was a bit harsh, but it was nothing compared to how you were actually feeling in this moment.

After 5 minutes the door slid open and a body slinked into the room, and sat on a chair near the end of your bed. It was Leah. She just smiled at you before she looked down at her phone. You felt a small tear roll down your cheek, the first one since your surgery, you quickly wiped it away and sniffled, however that caught the attention of Leah, and soon your single tear turned into more tears. She didn’t say anything, you didn't know if that was because she didn't know what to say, or if it was because she knew nothing she said would help. She did however get up out of her seat and walk towards your bed. You tried to shuffle over but your leg was holding you in place, you looked at her longingly. She looked at your knee and back to you, checking if thats what was the problem, you nodded. So she ever so carefully shifted your leg as you moved and then climbed onto the bed. You immediately moved closer to her, so that you were almost on top of her, and just melted into her comfort, as she held you tight.

After a while Beth and Viv walked in. “I’m sorry” you mumbled, feeling bad for pushing them away.

“It’s okay, you’re in a lot of pain both physically and emotionally, but we want you to know we are going to be here for you every step of the way. Okay.” you nodded, Viv sat down in the chair and beth sat down in her lap.

_____

When the fourth new doctor of the day entered the room, you jumped the gun, speaking before he could speak. “If you’re going to tell me I’m never going to play again or if you are a phycologist or some shit you can go, I don't want to hear it. Untill this hospital can find me someone who isnt a fucking sissy I won’t talk to any of you, and if they cant I’ll go somewhere else, another country if I have to.”

He sat down on the ‘doctor’ stool before wheeling himself on the chair closer to your bed, he leant forward slightly, and looked you directly in the eyes before he started speaking. “Well, I’m here to tell you that my team and I can get you back to playing pro. I’m not going to lie, its not going to be easy, its going to be fucking hard, harder than anything that has ever happened to you, everything combined. But we have done some research on you and had some conversations to people and we believe you can do this, we believe you are the right type of person, that you have the right support system and most of all have the determination, to not only now prove that dumb doctor wrong, but to show the universe that you won't break, nothing they throw at you, will cause you to break. So what do you say?”

You nodded slowly, looking at him before looking at Beth and Viv, almost seeking permission or maybe just reassurance, they both smiled and nodded at you, Leah squeezed your upper arm with the hand she had wrapped around your shoulders. You turn back to the doctor.

“I think like you,” “so is that a yes” “yes”

_____

He wasnt wrong, this was fucking hard, you were in agony, your face was scrunched up as tears streamed down from the first minute of rehab. You were told that you could stop if you needed to, but you weren't going to, you wanted to keep going, you needed to keep going, you needed to get back to playing.

Beth had been watching your first intensive rehab session from the window along with Viv and Leah. 10 minutes into the session she couldn't bear to watch, she walked away from the window before she broke down, she couldn't bear to see you in such agony. She was second guessing her choices, maybe you were pushing yourself too far, maybe they shouldn’t have signed the consent forms, after all you were only 15. Viv and Leah followed her, Viv wrapped her arms around her and tried to comfort her. 

“Maybe we take away the consent forms, she shouldn't be doing this.” Beth said, as she started to calm down slightly.

“No you fucking wont. She needs this, you may not entirely understand but she does, this is her absolute world. You don't get it.” Leah snapped back at her.

“Oh. So I don't understand what it's like to have a serious injury that takes you away from the thing you like doing, and I don't understand what it's like to lose a parent.”

“That's not what I mean Beth, and you know that.”

“Oh so what do you mean then.” Beth replied snarkily.

“You don’t understand the uncertainty of whether you will get to play or not, you knew you were going to come back, she doesn’t, she won't ever know until she gets there. You don't get what it means to know you are going to miss out on something that is 100% a given, well something that was 100% a given. She said to me when she was 10, that she was going to win an olympic record for her Mum, and that is something that was almost guaranteed to happen this year, she was going to become the youngest person to hold an 100 metre olympic record for her Mum and now she might never win an olympic record let alone go to an olympics. I was going to captain my country in a world cup that we had a very good chance at winning and that was taken away from me, that certainty, the thing that shows who we are and what we have strove for just gets taken away from us. And yes you did miss out on the world cup too beth, but this is different. Your injury meant something different with your Mum too. Your injury gave you time with your Mum. Her injury is taking her away from her Mum.”

Beth just nodded at Leah, not knowing what to reply, Leah was right, but it didn't make seeing you like that any better. Leah walked away and opened the door, joining you in rehab, she sat on the side of your good leg, speaking encouraging words to you the whole. Which admittedly did help.

_____

Beth and Viv came to some of your rehab sessions, but they struggled watching, they couldn't deal with they were the reason you were in pain, it's what you wanted to do, but if they didn't sign the consent forms you wouldn't be in this much pain, but they knew deep down this is what was best.

Leah was there for you every rehab session she could be, she was in a different position, she understood how Beth and Viv felt and would feel the same if she was in that position, but she wasn’t. She felt differently about this because she was in that position and so she was determined to be your constant through this. She was so insistent on that, that when she had an endo flare-up really bad you had to instruct her to stay home, she tried using the excuse that because you were in pain and still doing rehab she should too, you told her that was dumb, and you had to be in pain to get better, she needed to rest to get better. The main reason was that the past few days you had started working on walking without assistance, and if you passed the tests today you would be able to, well more like strongly encouraged too, walk without assistance in small intervals, it would only be max 30 mins a day in total currently but it was something. But you didn't want Leah to know this. You wanted to surprise everyone.

You did exactly that in their next training session.

“Are you sure about this?” Viv asked you concerned

“Yes, are they all in there?” you replied.

“Yeah Jonas said we had a meeting to be there by 8:10, we messaged and said sorry we will be 5 minutes late.” Beth replied and you nodded

You crutched your way into the centre and gave Viv your crutches just as you neared the dining room entrance, Beth went ahead of you as you walked, albeit very slowly, behind her into the dining room. All heads turned to you, no one expected you to be there, you hadn’t had a day off from rehab since you started, and as you were doing external rehab you hadn’t seen much of the girls.

“Oh we thought you were Jonas, do you know where he is?” Kim asked.

“Yeah he is just behind u-” “Wait Viv, why are you holding crutches that are definitely not your size” Steph asked.

“Holy fuck kid, you’re walking,” Katie said when she finally realised that you were walking, once everyone realised that you got your crutches back from Viv, standing without your crutches was painful, everyone came up and hugged you and congratulated you, except for one person, the one person that you really wanted to surprise. You continued looking around the room thinking you just missed her or something but your search was interrupted by a hand on your shoulder, “She isn't in here kid, she is with the medics. I can take you to visit her if you want.” Lia whispered in your ear, you nodded your head.

“Beth, Viv, I’m just going to take Y/N/N to see Leah,” Lia told them, they nodded their heads.

“Leah, I have someone who would like to see you,” Leah chimed through the door, 

“What Lia, you can't say that about yourself,” “No, it's not me who would like to see you, it’s someone else” and with that Lia opened the door for you and you walked into the room cautiously, Lia followed behind you holding your crutches.

“OMG Y/N/N you're walking” you just grinned and nodded at her, she went to reach out to you for a hug but before she could she winced in pain and retracted into a ball. 

“Le, I think you need to go home, I told you, you shouldn’t have come today,” Lia said as she walked to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“Can Y/N come?” Leah asked timidly, “I’ll check with Beth and Viv first but yes.” Both you and Leah perked up at that

–

You entered the house a while after Lia and Leah, considering you had to get up the stairs which wasn’t the easiest task to do with crutches, but you managed it. You walked into the living room, and saw a photo, a photo you had hanging on your wall, it was bigger on this wall though, and sat next to what you could only assume was Leah’s Euro Final Jersey framed and her medal. You thought that it was sweet she had hung that photo of you up. You decided to sit on the couch and wait for Lia or Leah to come back out and talk to you, however you quickly fell asleep. You had basically been sleeping, eating or rehabbing since your injury so it wasnt out of the ordinary. Lia came out to check on you but found you asleep, so she decided to leave you asleep.

_____

You were lying in your bed, when Beth and Viv returned from their game, you were now getting a day off rehab every week, to slightly allow your body to rest. You had begged your rehab team to let you go to the game, but they said no, but they did mention maybe next week, so you were determined for that to happen. But currently you were in your bed tearing up at the thought of playing football, you were so determined to just get back you had forgotten about why you wanted to get back to it so much, the family feeling, the feeling once you scored a goal, the feeling of winning with some of the closest people in your life, the feeling of being free, having nothing else on your mind other than the game. You were in sobs by the time Beth and Viv had opened your door.

“Oh Baby, what’s wrong?” Beth asked as she went to sit beside you on the bed. 

“I-I’m s-so-sorry,” you cried out, Beth pulled you into her side, wrapping her arms around you, you buried your head in her chest. Viv walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed in next to you, before she started to rub your back.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, it's okay to cry, what you’re going through isn’t something small, and isn’t something easy.” Beth reassured you.

“No. I’m sorry for yelling at you the first day in the hospital, and for being mean to you both when you’re just trying to help me, and that you have to look after me.”

“It’s okay, we’re here for you Kleintje, this injury hasn’t been easy and won’t be, so if you need to get mad at us sometimes that is okay. And we will always look after you, we love you, we wouldn’t want to do anything else than help you when you’re sick or injured.” Viv replied.

“But you shouldn’t have to look after me, it's not your fault I dont have parents.” Beth was surprised it took this long for the emotions of your parents not being able to look after you to hit, she felt it while she was recovering from her ACL and she didn’t have her Mum. The date also hadn’t slipped her mind for the entire day. She felt as though this conversation, this set of emotions, would be something you would prefer to have with just Beth, someone who understood in what you felt, she was older so it was easier on her in some way, but it doesn't make it hurt any less, it just meant she understood what was happening to her Mum where you didn’t. She looked up to Viv, and gave her a soft, sad, warm smile. Viv picked up on what Beth was silently communicating. Beth had a small tear roll down her face before she looked up at the roof, Viv wiped the tear away and kissed her quickly before she got up and headed to the door.

“I’m just going to have a shower, let me know if you need anything.” Viv said, she really didn;t want to leave you two but knew she needed to.

“Thank you,” you mumbled before she shut the door, she knew that it wasn't just for helping you, but for leaving, even though it went against everything in her being.

“I-I’m sorry,” “It’s okay Vivy understands. Can you sit up for me quickly?” You did as Beth said, she sat more upright resting her back against the pillows on the headboard, before pulling you onto her lap, you sat parallel to the headboard leaning your side into her, resting your head against her shoulder. You pulled your good leg into a ball, trying to feel safe. Beth wrapped her arms around you tightly, and started slightly rocking side to side. She kissed your forehead before she started talking again. 

“Y/N, it's okay to be upset, every date is just as important as the other. Today means something, every date means something. Today marks the start, and that’s just as important as the end.”

“It’s hard Beth.”

“I know it is, but you’ve got this, I’m here with you, I’m here for you, I understand, you never have to explain anything to me, I get it, but just know that she loves you, and she would be incredibly proud of you.” You felt a drop of water hit your shoulder, Beth was crying now too.

“I-I love y-you, th-thank you.” She nodded, you knew she wouldn’t be able to talk, you were struggling to talk, your tears choking back your words. She unwrapped the arm that was in front of you and you saw her moving her hand towards yours, you quickly grabbed it and held onto it tightly. You sat there soaking up Beth’s comfort, and slowly drifted off to sleep.

_____

Commonwealth Games 2026

“We’re here trackside with Y/F/N Y/L/N who at just 17 years old has broken 4 records today, 3 officially and one unofficially. She has just finished her first competitive 100m back since her career ending injury, with an absolutely insane time of 10.45. Giving her a second gold medal of the day.”

“An absolute masterclass out there Y/N/N, how do you feel?”

“Honestly amazing. On a high. I-I can’t believe it. Let alone find the words to express it” you said puffing.

“How’s the knee feeling? Recovery mustn’t have been easy.”

“Yeah no, the knee is feeling great, recovery was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but I had some fantastic people surrounding me and helping me and guiding me through it all. And I just wanted to give a massive thank you to Tim and his team. Without their belief, fantastic skill set and unbelievable knowledge I probably wouldn't even be here competing today, let alone standing here with a gold medal. But also to all my teammates, and to my parents who made me who I am, I love you both.”

[eluxcastar]

Dottore giving child reader a check up

── ୨୧：il dottore & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: nobody scares you more than the Doctor, and that's why you're wholly betrayed by Father tricking you into getting a check up right under your nose, but perhaps your worries are exaggerated by rumours

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, child reader, he's a lil soft (cause if he's not poor kid might explode on site), reader is mute, reader is also autistic (but tbh you don't have to read it that way), not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 2.9k

idk what possessed me to write this I just has the thought and decided it had to be done. I got in the zone and wrote it in a few hours 😭 this is kinda loosely based off one of my characters but ambiguous enough I think to be read as a reader insert. little ball of anxiety with legs reader hehe. they come from the house of the hearth so every instance of father refers to arle

You can't think of a single person able to scare you nearly as much as the Doctor can, whether it's the daunting trip to find him wherever he hid this time or the fear of knowing he tried to bargain with Father to have the more unimpressive children—as some would call you—shipped off to him to become experiments.

Father won't allow him to get his hands on any of you, but it hardly eases the fear that he may disregard Father's warning and decide to pluck the first child he comes across up and feign ignorance when she realises they've disappeared.

Father personally entrusted you with this letter, so you cannot turn back as you make your way to where she said he should be. 

The sleepiness might manage to numb you to the danger by the time you arrive and make it easier to stomach his presence, but most likely, he will only frighten you awake, and it will worsen with the shock to your system.

There's no turning back now and no declining when Father asks you to take letters, which she says are of great importance. You can't treat letters like this lightly, even if you fear the recipient.

Knowing who is behind it makes the door all the more daunting. Doors that separate you from Harbingers always make you nervous as it's not every day you find yourself faced with one armed only with a letter and shaking hands. If it were anyone else, you could've knocked in a heartbeat, but you pause to gather your bearings before raising your hand to knock.

One two, three…four. Spaced just as Columbina taught you to, and then you wait.

Several seconds pass in silence before you hear footsteps from inside, then a voice calling out to you. "The door is unlocked."

You reach for the handle, cautiously cracking open the door just enough to peek inside. Your eyes travel across the room from your left to your right until you spy Dottore seated in a chair facing away from you. He hears you, evident in the way he turns to look at you as you work up the courage to step inside and leave the door ajar behind you.

"It's you," he remarks, the closest to acknowledgment you expect to receive. You are about to make your way to hand him the letter when he interrupts you. "Close the door."

The door is always closed here like it's trying to keep someone out, but there's no one here that he would dread seeing who would knock and accept that the door is locked. He must not be trying to convince anyone of that, and if he was, maybe he'd lock the door for real and leave everyone stranded outside instead of talking.

Dottore makes you nervous. You don't know what he thinks or why, but you probably don't like it. It's the only reason why he would be here right now. Normal doctoring wouldn't get him far as a Harbinger, and the sounds you've heard coming from his lab are enough to deter you from wondering too much. 

Instead, you quietly spin yourself around to push the door closed before returning to your endeavour of handing him this letter from Father she entrusted you with.

"Who is it from?" he asks, a question you remember him asking before too. You concluded that he's trying to gauge how eager he is to read it, and your answer will set his mood for the remainder of your stay.

You turn the envelope over to show him the seal on the back, which you hold out to him. The mark of the House of the Hearth—Father's seal—is displayed so that Dottore can glean the answer from wordless actions. He accepts it from your hand with a stifled eagerness, the hopes of something he'll enjoy written there held back by the knowledge that, in all likelihood, it's a trivial matter.

The moment the letter leaves your hands, you retreat to the safety of the door, where you stand beside the frame to await a half-hearted reaction or collect his response. Father is always happy when you return to the House to inform her that Dottore sighed when he read her letter, even if she regards the news with her usual stoicism. She despises when he bothers to send something back to her, but she never tells you why, as usual.

He collects something off his desk just out of your sight, hidden behind him, and the sound of paper tearing follows. He drops the twice-folded paper into his hand, then unfurls it to read the contents.

You wait in silence, nerves evening out as you rub the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand. Sleepiness does help you occupy yourself if nothing else.

Then, you are interrupted by a snap of his fingers and a motion of his hand to usher you closer. 

Keeping him waiting will only make him mad, though you're sure not enough time has passed for him to pen any cohesive message in the minute or two you spent waiting.

You look up in anticipation nonetheless, expecting him to hand you something or tell you something so when he reaches toward you, it doesn't alarm you. 

Not until he grabs you beneath your arms, picks you up, and sits you down on the table, much closer to eye level with him.

"Arlecchino has her concerns about your sleeping habits and your seeming lack of will to speak," he begins, reaching behind you to grab something you barely follow before he has it in his hands. It's only a light, small and thinner than the torches at the House.

Your mind races with every question you can think of as you try to find a way off this table back to the floor, but the only way out is blocked by Dottore sitting in front of you, unsympathetic to the fear in your eyes when you stare at him. You could swear you hear your heartbeat thrumming in your ears in a quickened rhythm.

What was written in that letter? Was it about you? It takes only a brief glance down in search of the open letter to realise exactly what makes this delivery so important. Father tricked you into coming here to see the Doctor after you so eagerly declined her previous offer to go willingly. You catch glimpses of your name in Father's handwriting and little else as it blurs into a messy sea of details, but you always recognise how Father writes your name.

You know better than to assume this is punishment but rather the manifestation of Father's worry as you keep oversleeping lately and need one of the older children to fetch you from the comfort of your bed. The idea that habit would land you here, presumably getting a check-up, might've inspired you to prize yourself out of bed a little earlier had you known.

Dottore seems to gauge your trembling as an obvious sign of fear, though a twitch at the corner of his lips is your only indicator, as you can't see his eyes beneath the mask. "Her explicit concern was whether or not you're ill." He rests his hand against your knee— they're cold, yet you almost expect it. It doesn't mean you especially like it. You can only interpret the action as a skewed attempt to comfort you. "As long as you're healthy, I see no reason to keep you longer than a simple check up."

He's not a real doctor, is all you can think, and he doesn't know what he's doing.

You have no choice but to steel yourself for whatever pain you're about to be subjected to. It might hurt, but you have no way out, no way back to Father, so you can curl up in a ball at her feet and ask why she would subject you to this torture—

"Don't tense your jaw," you suddenly hear, realising his finger taps your knee to grab your attention back from dreamland. "Open your mouth," he instructs you, and rather simply at that. It's something you can follow without getting scared he'll hurt you somehow.

He shines that light at you, inspecting something, though you can't say what. A slight tilt of his hand and, by proxy, the light he's holding is your only sign he's looking at anything.

The light is off before you know it. There was no pain at all, not even a hint of discomfort beyond what naturally arises from your ever-present anxiousness.

Dottore moves to set the light beside you, then appears to change his mind as he offers it to you. You take it from his hand and click it just as he had, the light coming on again. Another click, and it's off. Holding it just like that, an object of clicks and ridges and a light you can play with, is enough to give you something to at least take your mind off the fear of getting hurt.

"Lift your head." 

This time, compliance comes easier as you tilt your head up until the point his hand stops nudging you, and instead, he presses his fingers against your throat. It's light enough to feel only slight pressure; it doesn't hurt, but you don't like that feeling. Your thumb brushes over the exterior of the light, smooth against the pads of your fingers and satisfying to touch. You pull away before you can come to your senses and stop yourself, but he lets go the moment your discomfort flares, and you do the closest you can to telling him no.

Your breathing begins to even back out seeing his hands so clearly in the air in front of you, away from you, not touching you. It's silent reassurance that what you just did counts enough as revoking his permission to touch you as anything can.

Dottore doesn't feel like dealing with the fussy child that trying to force it would invoke for a mere favour to the Knave.

Instead, simply asking you like the fully grown child you are seems much more efficient. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, all yes or no," he begins. "They're all simple enough you can answer without speaking."

You interpret the ensuing silence as Dottore waiting, expecting you to nod or shake your head, and you quickly offer a nod in agreement.

"Do you know if you're able to speak?"

You consider his question carefully, unsure of the answer. Your hesitation prompts him to rephrase the question.

"Are you able to make any noises at all?"

You nod. You know the answer to that.

"But not speak in full words?"

Not words. Words don't work. You shake your head.

"Would that be because you're physically unable to?"

You shake your head. You've spoken before, but each time you try, especially here, something robs you of your voice before you get the chance. You know you can talk, just not here like this. 

"If not physical, then there's nothing wrong with you," he concludes. It feels sudden like there should be more, but he stops so quickly. "Nothing that I can fix," he promptly adds. That explains it.

Why not? He doesn't answer, unable to hear the things you don't say. To him, you remain as starkly silent as ever and as difficult to treat as you have been the past few minutes. You suspect he came to some greater conclusion between when you first walked in and now but neglects to share with you what it is.

You must look unsatisfied or just confused as he pauses to stare at you. You look away first, eyes drifting back to the light in your hands.

"Arlecchino only wanted to know if something was physically wrong with you," he says, briefly looking down at the letter as he skims a particular section again. "Your poor sleep may be the result of insomnia, or whatever is causing the mental block that also prevents you from speaking."

Mental block? Nobody ever told you about anything like that. 

You eye him curiously, though you again remain silent, watching him while you think he isn't looking back. It's easy to look at him as long as you don't consciously think of the fact that he's staring at you behind that mask.

Dottore holds his hand out expectantly, a motion of his fingers telling you he wants you to return what you have in your hands to him. You do so, but not without a sadness-driven hesitance to accompany it.

"None of the things you're describing imply a physical problem, but a paranoid 'parent' overattentive to the wrong facets of what could be wrong with an orphan." You don't like the way he says that as if he's speaking ill of Father, but like always, you keep your mouth shut. "If you couldn't speak because of a physical injury, you would have presented with one when you arrived at the House of the Hearth—not now. Trouble sleeping and an elevated heart rate, shortness of breath, intense panic and your tremors are more likely the symptoms of anxiety." 

That's a lot of words, but as he quickly lists every example, you seem to become conscious of it. Mental block, anxiety. Those are the two things you've been told that sound like explanations. You look down as if on instinct, hands held in front of you to investigate his claims that you're shaking. You are. Before your eyes, your hands are trembling, though you can't say why. You look back at him to see if he has anything else to say.

You thought your sleep troubles weren't the same, the result of bad dreams, but supposedly not. Dottore doesn't know anything about that, does he? No, he can't. You never told him, so he can't know. He knows lots of things he shouldn't, like your heart racing when you're scared or how you feel like you can't breathe at times. 

Dottore clicks the light on again, shining it down at your hands resting in your lap. He circles it in place, and your eyes follow. It clicks off again after a few seconds. "Distraction helps anxiety," he says, then sets it down on the desk beside you. "Do you know why you can't sleep?" he asks.

Yes. You nod. Dreams. On nights when they're at their worst, they keep you awake long past bedtime when all others have gone to sleep. By breakfast, you can be so tired and sleep-deprived that dozing off over your food is the only thing you can manage.

You half expect to sit through another round of questioning before Dottore finds the one that clicks the pieces perfectly together in his head, just as he did in the first round.

Instead, Dottore stands, and his hands find your sides to hook you under your arms. Your feet are back on the ground before you can fuss any more about how much you do or do not like it. With you out of his way, he flips the paper Father wrote her request to him on.

"If you know the answer, then you're free to go."

That's it?

You stare up at him for a moment, perplexed by the surprising lack of pain compared to the abundance of fear you felt. It should have hurt, but it didn't, and now you don't know why you were so against coming here in the first place. Dottore spared five or ten minutes of his time, which he already didn't want to give you, and is sending you on your way without injury,

You can't see his face as he's turned away, writing something down that you can't make out. If you took a guess what it is, it's probably about you, just like the first one was. Still, you can tell why Father is so annoyed to receive letters from him. You don't recognise your name when he writes it. You don't recognise anything he writes. His handwriting is awful.

He folds it and slips it back into the envelope it was given to him in. That's not proper etiquette, but something in the way he practically shoves it into your hands tells you that he doesn't particularly care. So long as it gets from him to Father, it doesn't matter how it gets there in his eyes.

"Give that to the Knave." That is his final instruction. You're very used to following those kinds of instructions by now, having heard and executed them many times. They're second nature to your mind.

You nod, pinching it between your fingers to keep the paper from falling out of the open envelope. If Father's was critical, so is this one, and you'll get it back to her quickly—more importantly, safely.

You can't help wondering why it felt so much easier to have someone briefly look at you and ask a few questions. The older children make it sound torturous and barbaric, like being used as a lab rat to spite Father for her refusal with his only opportunity to access the children of the House.

Perhaps seeing a doctor to ease Father's worries isn't as scary as you believed.

[varpusvaras]

fully inspired by this post by @rooksunday. Fox can never have a calm day, can he?

Cody is already in the process of ripping his hair out when Fox runs in.

Quite literally runs. It is for the mere laws of physics that he hadn't gone through the door, though Cody thinks that it had been really close to happening anyway with how fast Fox barges in.

"Cody!" Fox yells. Very loudly, even though he is already at Cody's desk, almost going through it too. He slams his hands on the edge of the desk to stop himself, and he almost careens over the desk with the sudden stop. He manages to stop before it, but is now bent halfway over the desk, and is right at Cody's face. "Cody!"

"I heard you the first time", Cody says, grimacing at the volume. "What is it?"

Perhaps he should be worried. Fox looks like he is going to explode at any second, with his eyes wide and his breathing erratic. His new, nice clothes are very ruffled, most likely from running, and his fancy new cape is only partially clasped. It is not a state Cody has ever seen Fox. His meticulous, top-of-his-class brother, who always had even the seams of clothes in place.

"How did this happen?" Fox asks. "How?"

Alright, he should be worried. Fox is never cryptid. Always blunt and to the point, sometimes even too much, the little prick.

"How did what happen?" Cody asks. He is up from his chair now, and making it to the other side of the desk. "Fox, breathe a little."

Fox does breathe. He takes in a deep gulp of air, and looks at Cody like Cody is the one asking stupid and cryptid questions.

"The marriage!" Fox yells. "How did it happen?"

Now Cody is even more confused and concerned. Is there something wrong? The new Chancellor had seemed so nice, and Fox had been friendly with him until now. Had it all been a ruse? Had Cody, while being overwhelmed with everything, managed to get his little brother married to some kind of monster, who had only now revealed his true colours?

No, that would not stand. Cody needs to know exactly what's going on, right now.

"Fox", Cody grabs him by the shoulders. "What is going on? Are you alright?"

Fox doesn't look hurt, thank the gods, but he is still out of breath and looking at Cody with his eyes blown huge. Then again, they had all been trained to be able to sustain various injuries, so Cody would have to make sure-

Fox blinks, and then laughs, borderline hysterically.

"Am I alright?" He asks. "Am I alright? No! No, I am not! And I need you to answer my question! How did this happen? How did this whole disaster even go through?"

Cody tries not to be frustrated at not getting any answers out of Fox. He breathes in deep himself. He needs to stay calm, since Fox, for the first time ever, is not.

"I'm sorry", he says. "For putting you through it. I never should've. I-"

Fox grabs him by the shoulders as well, almost knocking Cody's hands away.

"Shut the hell up", he is suddenly snarling. "I don't care, I just need to know who authorised it."

"I did." Cody is...more confused about what is going on, now. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising", Fox says. "Who else? Who else was approving with this?"

"The Chancellor and the Queen of Alderaan", Cody answers. The Chancellor, of course, Cody had done his negotiations with the man, but he had heard that the Queen had to authorise the whole marriage as well. It had sounded logical, as the Chancellor had been the former Senator of Alderaan, and thus still representing the whole system as well-

Fox starts laughing again. He lets go off Cody and puts his head in his hands, which makes the laughing sound more like he is crying.

"Fox", Cody shakes him a little. "Fox'ika. What's wrong?"

"The Queen of Alderaan authorised the marriage between me and the Chancellor", Fox mumbles against his hands.

"Yes?" Cody is seriously starting to feel like he has missed something big.

"The Queen of Alderaan", Fox repeats, "authorised my marriage with Chancellor Organa of Alderaan."

"Yes." Cody needs to go to his files and look through them again-

"Her Majesty", Fox says, "Queen Breha Organa of Alderaan, authorised me to marry her husband."

Cody stares.

Fox lifts his head from his hands a bit to look at Cody.

"I need a drink", he says.

Cody nods. He needs a drink too.

He lets Fox sit on the comfier chair and takes up the other one for himself, after he has fetched a nice bottle of some bright red liquour from his cabinet. A gift, for the new leader of the Vode.

The label tells him it's Alderaanian liquour.

Cody pours Fox a full glass, and then hides the bottle.

[anna-the-undertaker]

Adrenaline

When the human body is under a great amount of stress, induced by fear or anger or desperation, the brain releases adrenaline into the bloodstream in an effort to keep us alive, forcing our body to perform at its full potential.

Part 2: Indomitable Will

MC and Luke navigated the bustling streets of the Devildom, the perpetual night casting everything in shades of deep blue and violet. The young angel’s face lit up with excitement as they gathered the last of the ingredients for his newest culinary creation. The market was alive with activity, but as they made their way back, the lively atmosphere took a dark turn.

They had just turned down a quieter path when a group of demons ambushed them. Before MC could react, rough hands grabbed them both, dragging them deep into the Devildom’s forbidden forest—a place so dangerous that even seasoned demons avoided it.

MC's heart pounded as they were forced further into the dark, twisted woods. They knew the others would come looking for them, but the forest was vast and treacherous. The demons had chosen their hiding spot well.

As they were shoved into a clearing, MC looked at Luke, who was trembling beside them. They knew what had to be done. With a surge of determination, MC created an opening in the demon's formation, shoving Luke through it.

"Run, Luke! Get help!" MC shouted, their voice strained with urgency.

Luke hesitated, his eyes wide with fear. "I can't leave you here! They'll—"

"RUN!" MC screamed, just as one of the demons lunged for Luke.

Finally, Luke obeyed, sprinting before taking flight with tears streaming down his cheeks. MC turned back to face the demons, their body trembling with fear but fueled by something stronger—the need to protect the young angel and everyone they had come to love.

As the demons advanced, a whirlwind of thoughts rushed through MC's mind. They saw the faces of all the friends they had made since coming to the Devildom: Diavolo’s encouraging smile, Barbatos’ quiet support, Lucifer’s stern but caring gaze, and the warmth of each brother and the angels who had become their family.

They had already lost so much, survived so much, and learned so much. Diavolo, Barbatos, and Lucifer had worked tirelessly for the success of this exchange program, striving for peace between realms. They had all fought so hard for every new experience, every friendship, all the knowledge that had been gained.

MC felt the weight of it all—the importance of what they had built together. Their instincts screamed at them to run, to find safety, but they couldn’t. Not now. They had to fight. They had to protect what mattered.

The first blow landed hard against their side, knocking the wind out of them. Pain exploded through their body, but they couldn’t fall. Not here. Not now. If they died, Luke would blame himself, and the others... it would destroy them.

Fueled by a surge of desperation, MC fought back with everything they had. Their heart raced, adrenaline flooding their system, making them move faster, hit harder, and react with a precision they didn’t know they possessed. Their magic, bolstered by the pacts they had formed, surged within them, giving them strength beyond what they thought possible.

Time lost meaning in the forest's darkness. It felt like hours had passed, but it could have been mere minutes. The forest's living energy twisted around them, making everything uncertain and surreal. They fought until the demons lay sprawled on the forest floor, barely breathing and unconscious.

MC stood there, gasping for breath, their body screaming in pain. Every muscle ached, their vision blurred, and their head spun. They looked up at the stars that peeked through the canopy of trees, trying to calm themselves, but the adrenaline had worn off, and the shaking in their limbs returned with a vengeance. They felt both heavy and weightless, and they marveled at how they were still standing.

"My magic most likely," they whispered to themselves, their voice barely audible. "I was told the pacts would change me in some ways..."

In the distance, MC heard the sound of shouts. They turned their head weakly towards the noise, catching sight of a group rushing towards them. The figures became clearer, and relief washed over them as they recognized Solomon, Simeon, Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and the others. Luke was with them, tears streaming down his face.

"I'm so happy you're okay..." MC murmured, their voice soft and strained as they smiled at Luke.

No one said anything at first. They were all staring at MC, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief.

"Why is everyone staring at me like I've grown three heads?" MC wondered, glancing down at themselves.

They were covered in blood—some of it theirs, but most of it from the demons they had just faced. They looked back at the crumpled forms of the demons around them. One of them groaned, clutching his side in pain.

MC turned back to the others, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over them. Their vision darkened at the edges, and they swayed on their feet.

"Can someone help me... please..." MC's voice was faint, barely a whisper. "I think I'm gonna—"

Before they could finish, their knees buckled, and they collapsed. Several of the brothers rushed forward to catch them while the others moved to deal with the demons.

The group was stunned by the scene before them. MC’s injuries were significant, but the damage they had inflicted on the demons was far greater. They all knew MC was strong—they had learned that humans were far from weak—but this... this was something else entirely.

As they carried MC back, the reality of what had happened settled over them like a shroud. The most important lesson had been learned: humans were peaceful only when they chose to be, not because they had to be. And MC had just proven that to devastating effect.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Lesson Learnt Pt. 2 | John Price x Reader

Summary: After the initial incident that caused your meeting, Johnny sets you and Price up on a date at a little diner nearby.

Word Count: ~ 2.5k

Warnings: can’t say much w/o spoilers but random men, ghost being moody, Johnny being overly friendly, working in customer service…

A/N: idk what happened something possessed me when I made this, it was supposed to be fluff but then it exploded. hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist

Weeks had passed after the initial incident, and your life had quickly changed.

You’d broken up with your toxic boyfriend, now wondering how you hadn’t seen it earlier, and why you hadn’t listened to all your friend's advice and thoughts on him. You’d moved out, blocked him on everything, and found a new apartment closer to your simple job as a barista. It was enough to keep the bills paid, for now. At least until you finally got out of college with your doctorate in nursing science.

Having been in college for nearly eight years now, and not living in the dorm (there were far too many incidents on campus for you to trust any sort of campus police, not to mention the generally shady system of coverups) made it a little bit harder.

Student loans were threatening to suffocate you, but for now, you would focus on one day to the next. All of this, the annoying days that drug on, or the hard times, would all be memories before you knew it, and it would be worth it. Or at least you hoped.

Today wasn’t one of those super slow-moving days where customers were ordering hyper-specific drinks or getting the suspiciously old lemon cakes, only to complain about how stale they were, as if you could do anything about it. No, today was relatively normal, customers minding their own business after ordering, coworkers having idle chatter.

“M’ taking my lunch break.”

You said to your close coworker, Laney. Her honey-brown eyes shifted over to you, and she nodded with a little smile.

“Don’t take too long, might miss some cute boys.”

She teased, knowing full well all of your opinions on relationships right now. You wanted to wait until you had a stable income and were out of school. She’d heard it only about a million times. You huffed a soft laugh, deft fingers untying the knot in your apron as you set it up on a hook, walking out to your car.

Lunch break was about 30 minutes, which was more than enough for you to drive to the nearest cheap restaurant and pick something up. Clicking your key button and heading towards where you heard the beep of your car, you opened the door, sliding into the worn leather. It wasn’t a new car, not by a long shot, but it was your old faithful, and it had served you well for nearly ten years in a row.

You started the car, muscle memory kicking in as you drove to that place right down the road from your work. It was past the chicken shop, a place you would refrain from visiting for a while after seeing some undercover cops staking out there one night.

You turned and pulled into the parking lot, glancing around before opening your door, only for the cold air to nip at your bare arms, when you decided to slip on the warm leathery jacket, with the fur on the inside. The one that the man, John, maybe, had given you. You’d lost the piece of paper with their numbers on it to the washing machine, but oh well. He didn’t look like the type to live around here, anyway, so it wasn’t like you were going to see him again.

Walking into the restaurant, you strode to the front, placing a quick little order and paying with your card, before choosing a small circular table in the corner to wait for your food. This place was usually quick. You idly scanned the guests. Two large men sitting together, chatting. An older woman and what was probably her husband seated with a younger man and woman. Maybe some sort of family double date? A nervous-looking teenager sitting alone, knee bouncing. An old, thin man seated at the far end, mumbling incoherently to himself.

Not unusual.

You pulled your phone out, idly scrolling through social media before your name was called, and you got up to go collect your food.

~

“You sure?”

“M’ tellin’ ya, it’s exactly what Gaz said she looked like.”

Simon glanced out at the girl his sergeant seemed so certain about. He wouldn’t lie, you did match the description pretty decently. Just as he opened his mouth to point anything out that fought against Johnny’s claim (just to spite him, obviously, not because he liked watching Soap get all frustrated and start rambling on for an hour on end), he noticed it.

“She’s wearin’ cap’s jacket.”

Johnny’s brows rose as he snuck another glance at you. You grabbed your tray of food, walking back to the small little corner where your bag was on the seat. You were wearing their captain’s jacket. The brown leather, the slight fuzz in the sides and insides, the buttoned pockets….he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it earlier.

“Hell’s bells, been wonderin’ where that thing went.”

Simon only gave a little grunt in reply, eyes narrowed on you before he glanced back at his food. He didn’t want to seem a creep. He already knew he was intimidating enough to the normal civilian, and one of his “I-want-to-eat-your-firstborn-child” glares (named by Johnny and Kyle) probably wasn’t helping.

“Sounds like Price’s found ‘imself a pretty birdie.”

Johnny lit up at those words, a devilish grin lighting his features, one that Simon usually only saw before he demolished buildings or people with explosives. He was already dreading it before it came out of his mouth.

“We shoul’ set ‘em up on a date.”

“No.”

“Don’ tell me it wouldn’ be a good idea. Might keep him from giving us so many sprints at training, yeah? Ya know he’s been overworkin’ us lately…”

The slight pause Simon took was all Soap needed to continue spewing his disarming, convincing words that usually always worked on his Lieutenant. His lips further curled into a grin as he went on.

“He’s been so tense lately, jus’ let us do this for ‘im, help him relax some…”

“Fine. Get on wit’ it.”

Simon finally relented, suddenly finding his food very interesting to look at as Johnny got up, striding over to you with a confidence one could only expect from the Scotsman.

He glanced up, trying to subtly watch as his sergeant approached you. You were on a call with someone, the phone held up to your ear by your shoulder while you ate your fries, the main entree of your order already gone. When Johnny walked up, you immediately sized him up.

Paranoid. Simon didn’t blame you, living on this end of town. The only reason he and the guys stayed here was for the cheap flats they could get when on leave for a few months. Price had a little house more up South, but never visited it much, letting it gather some dust.

You took the phone from your ear, muttering something to whoever was on the other end, and hanging up. You raised a brow at Johnny, who in turn gestured to your jacket and struck up a conversation. Johnny was trying to look unthreatening, he could tell. Sitting down so he wasn’t standing over you. A small, easygoing smile. Trying to make you laugh, and succeeding a bit.

Five minutes in, and you were seeming more comfortable with him. He wrote something down on a napkin from your table with a pen in his pocket, handing it to you, giving a teasing wink which you snorted at, and walking back over to his and Simon’s table with a huge smile.

“Wha’ did you just do?”

Simon asked, suspiciously eying Soap.

“I set our cap’ up with a date.”

He beamed, and Simon only sighed, knowing that Price wouldn’t take it too well to be sent on a date with a girl he’d only just met a few weeks ago. A girl that hadn’t texted him since. But maybe, just maybe, it would go decently.

~

That had been one of the strangest encounters in your life.

A Scottish man introduces himself as a friend of Price’s, saying something about working together at their jobs and telling you he recognized the jacket you were wearing. So much for not ever seeing John Price again, considering his friend had just set the two of you up, and given you the man’s number too. All the while the gruff-looking man had sat at Johnny’s table, watching the interaction.

It had made you more than a little nervous, but nothing had gone bad. The Scotsman had been friendly, and even funny, but not pushing too far.

And now you had a date on Friday night.

When you got back to work, off of lunch break, Laney helped you into your apron, tying the knot for you like she always did.

“You’re late, what took so long?”

She knew you weren’t usually ever late. Always on time, punctual, even. You managed your time properly.

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

She grinned at that, nudging you with an elbow as you started taking orders.

“C’mon, spill it.”

And you did.

You began with the incident a few weeks ago, which she’d mostly already heard about, then told her all about the Scotsman and his friend, and finally the date on Friday. Right when you were about to finish the story, you felt your phone buzz, and you took it out to check it despite usually keeping it on Do Not Disturb. A text from an unknown number, but you knew who it was.

“Sorry for my muppets bothering you, they don’t know how to keep their mouths shut.”

You snorted in undignified laughter, replying while an older customer complained, mumbling something about ‘this generation and their phones’.

“I’m assuming you’re talking about Johnny?”

“Yes, the one that barely talks in coherent English.”

“Aw, he was funny. I liked him.”

“Don’t go liking him too much. We apparently have a date on Friday.”

“I’ll see you there, then?”

“See you there.”

You finally silenced your phone, slipping it back into your pocket as you went back to work with a noticeable pep in your step and a warm, fuzzy smile you offered to customers.

Laney certainly noticed.

When your shift was over, ending quickly, she talked to you while walking out to the parking lot through the back exit.

“I can help you get ready for the date, if you want?”

She offered. You’d be stupid to deny, with the impeccable makeup and fashion sense that she had.

“Sure, I can swing by at 3. That’ll give you plenty of time.”

“You have any shifts the rest of the week?”

“Barely. Just little half-times I squeezed in between lecturers. Last year’s always the busiest.”

“See you Friday, then.”

You beamed at her, sliding into your car as she walked to your own.

“See you Friday.”

~

Some of the days passed in a blur, some dragged on slower than ever before.

Eventually, though, Friday rolled around, and you were sitting in your friend’s chair as she did your hair, your makeup light, but good. You were wearing a simple outfit, some clean jeans, and a cute brown sweater over your white shirt.

It was 4:30, and you had only thirty minutes to haul your ass out to the nice diner the both of you were meeting at for dinner.

“It’s fine, I need to go. Seriously.”

Laney gave you a look, but reluctantly started putting all her things away. You hugged her, mumbling thanks in her ear, before grabbing your purse that had all of your things in it and walking to the exit of her quaint home.

You drive to the diner, finding the parking lot to have the familiar old car you’d seen Price driving in the first place. You parked got out of the car, and walked into the diner, only for the server up front to inform you that you’d already been paid for, and she led you to a table where Price was seated.

He’d tried to dress nicely, you could tell. Beard combed and hair done, dressed in jeans and a comfortable-looking dress shirt. He gave you a small smile as you slid into the booth, and there was already a tray of crinkle-cut fries in the center.

“Hope you didn’ mind that I ordered, big fella like me needs a lotta food.”

He said with a chuckle, and you grinned.

“I don’t mind, trust me, my older brother devours food like no other.”

He smiled, a little bob of his head before his brow raised in mild curiosity.

“You got a brother?”

A nod.

“Yeah, name’s Gary. He’s quiet, but we love ‘im for it.”

“Me and the boys are just about brothers, wish they’d be quiet for once.”

You snorted at that, taking a sip of your water before the waitress came by and you ordered your meal. Price’s was the first to come out, he’d ordered a full English breakfast that the diner somehow served, despite it being around dinner time. Yours came out next, and you both idly chattered about your life, family, jobs (he was apparently military and off on leave right now, not that you minded), and whatnot.

When he was about more than halfway through his food, his phone began buzzing, and his face went serious as he held a small finger up to you with a slightly apologetic expression, taking the phone call.

He listened, and you simply continued eating your food, not minding. Everyone had to take important calls every now and then, sometimes it just wasn’t avoidable.

He gave a few gruff yes’ and no’s, before sighing as he replied for one last time into the phone.

“I’ll be right there.”

When he clicked off the call, shoving his phone into his pocket, he gave an apologetic look.

“It’s an emergency, can’t stay. ‘M sorry.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Is everything alright?”

You asked, and he nodded, face set in what looked like a grim determination. He called a waitress over, paying the bill before you both got up. He gave you a light pat on the shoulder as you both walked out, right before you went to your car.

“We could do this again, if you’d like. With no interruptions.”

“I’d like that.”

He breathed an audible sigh of relief at that.

“I’ll text you when I can.”

Before he began walking to his car, getting in. You walked to yours, opened up the driver’s side door, and slid in before you saw his jacket sitting on the passenger seat. Cursing to yourself, you grabbed it, having it in mind to go take it to him before he left.

Before you could move, though, a hand clasped over your mouth.

A cold prick of pain in the back of your neck. Liquid.

“Don’t scream.”

A voice warned as if you could make any noise at all with a hand over your mouth.

An overwhelming sense of heaviness overtook you, and your vision began swimming, before turning black as your eyes fluttered closed.

“What’re we getting ‘er for?”

“Bargaining chip.”

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