#i NEED to cling to his massive shoulders while he puts his head in my neck you know???

[wildsaltair]

Maximus in the army camp medical bay deleted scene my beloved

[rsepetals]

𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆!𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮: toji’s bulking and you’re ovulating! how can you keep your hands to yourself when all you want to do is touch? 𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝐸𝒩𝒯 𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢: any color can read<3 size difference (toji has a monster cock ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა), blowjob, female oral, choking, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, cream-pie, explicit language, mirror sex, 69, toji fucks you in a headlock ݁𖥔 ݁˖

BULKING!TOJI who always seems to be wearing the sluttiest clothing. muscle tees that grip his meaty arms enticingly, showing off every curve and bulge of his well-defined biceps. his sweats always seem to hang too low on his hips, revealing a dark happy trail that leads down to his waistband. the fabric clinging to his thick thighs.

BULKING!TOJI who religiously carries a protein shaker with him, even on date nights, because he's serious about his bulking diet. he’s got a variety of protein powders, from chocolate to vanilla, and he loves mixing them with different fruits and oats to keep things interesting.

BULKING!TOJI who loves trying out new high-calorie recipes and often ropes you into cooking massive meals with him. you two have fun experimenting in the kitchen, making everything from giant stacks of protein pancakes to hearty chicken and rice dishes, always ensuring they meet his caloric needs. he’s genuinely grateful. often, hugging you from behind while you cook, placing the sloppiest kisses behind your ears, his tattooed arms coiled around your frame. his gratitude is evident in the way he nuzzles into your neck, whispering sweet nothings about how much he appreciates your efforts. “i love you, y’know that. . .right?”

BULKING!TOJI who’s noticeably chubbier, you like it. really like it, often burying yourself into his pudgy side with a satisfied sigh. “i could die like this.”

BULKING!TOJI who despite his intense workouts, always makes time to cuddle and watch movies, using you as his favorite "recovery" time. he loves resting his head on your lap while you binge-watch your favorite series, feeling your fingers run through his hair as he relaxes. “i hate this scene.”

BULKING!TOJI who gets annoyed and sleeps on the couch when you won’t stop playing with his tits. “you’re so damn annoying.”

BULKING!TOJI who you make sure has a secret stash of snacks in his gym bag for when he needs extra calories on the go. protein bars, nuts, and dried fruits are his go-to, and he always has a little something to munch on between sets or during quick breaks.

have a good workout<3 - signed your amazing beautiful girlfriend

BULKING!TOJI who becomes an expert at meal prepping, and his mini fridge is always stocked with containers of chicken, rice, and veggies. each container meticulously measured to ensure he gets the right amount of protein, carbs, and fats, and he takes pride in his perfectly organized fridge.

BULKING!TOJI who likes wearing your crop tops, flexing in front of the mirror. “take it off! you’re stretching my shit toji.” “no.”

BULKING!TOJI who can’t resist squeezing your face in his bicep, laughing as your chubby cheeks push together. “haha!”

BULKING!TOJI who just throws you over his shoulder during arguments. “i’ll put you down when you’re done being a brat.”

BULKINGTOJI! who thinks it’s dumb as you tie a pink ribbon around his wrist, demanding he stay still. he thinks it’s even dumber when you record it, the video boasting one-million likes on tiktok. “they loveeeeee you!”

BULKING!TOJI who’s entire hand covers your face. jeez, your poor cunt, he thinks.

BULKING!TOJI who can’t help but admire the way your swollen sticky lips suckle at his thick cock, pulling him back in greedily. usually, it’d take some time for him to ease into your tiny hole. but, you were ovulating today and after seeing your boyfriend walking around shirtless with nothing but boxers on, you practically jumped his bones.

BULKING!TOJI who presses all his weight onto you as he fucks your soppy pussy, the pressure in your back dull as he prods into that sweet spot from behind. pale veiny hands pull your cheeks apart, spreading you, revealing your puckering hole. a glob of warm spit followed by his thumb lubricating your asshole has you arching your back in anticipation. “papaaaa,” glossy eyes squeeze shut as he gently sinks his thumb into your asshole, pelvis relentlessly slapping into your sore ass. the sight has his dick twitching, “humph, look so pretty with both holes filled.”

BULKING!TOJI who doesn’t care that you’re overstimulated, rocking his dick into your tight velvety walls at a mean pace. you don’t know how many orgasms the man has yanked from you. “i know baby, doing so good. takin’ all of me like a big girl, fuckkkk.” glazed eyes watching the way you glisten on him as he folds you against the wooden headboard, your legs flush to your chest. “tojiiii,” you whine, he could get drunk off the way you whimper his name. “am i deep baby?” he groans, thick cream building on his base. “mhm!”

BULKING!TOJI who has you in the nastiest headlock, one hand wrapped around your throat, the other forcing you to look into the mirror. you’re a mess, disheveled hair, tear-stained cheeks, swollen lips. the man’s so fucking huge he covers your entire body. “unt, unt. eyes open beautiful.” he sends a particularly deep thrust that has you shivering. slick, slick, slick, a repetitive noise that has him grunting deeply into your ear.

BULKING!TOJI who eats your pussy while you suck his dick. it’s a struggle taking him, drool seeping down your chin as you slurp at the veiny masterpiece. it’s also a struggle to concentrate as he eats you out like a starved man, spitting, slapping, fingering. god, you’re gonna cum again. “cummin!”

BULKING!TOJI who watches as his cum trickles out of your pulsing hole, pushing it back inside with a frown. “stay.”

[erosmutt]

　⯌　𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡　⨟　𝗝. 𝗞𝗲𝗹𝗹𝘆, 𝗦. 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗿𝗼𝗲, 𝗦. 𝗕𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿

〣 ﹒▨﹕CONTENT WARNINGS﹒foursome, incestuous activities, free use undertones, objectification, somnophilia, double penetration, degrading, face slapping, pussy eating, bukakke, large age gap (James is 46, Scott is 21, Sam is 20, reader is 19).

┄﹒WORD COUNT﹒⤹ 4,152

BNUUY'S NOTES┆Finally, the long awaited fic! Part of the "Partnered Up!" series, which is a series of fics where all the characters are paired up and are with reader. The first installment is this one! Titled after a Red Hot Chili Peppers song. Originally, I was going to title it after a Rob Zombie song, but here we are! I'm so excited to share this with all of you. Eat well my loves!

≻ㅤ﹒ㅤlet's have a coffee together!ㅤ﹒ㅤノ

"You're welcome over anytime y'wanna be, sweetiepie."

You snap out of your daydream, lifting your gaze. In front of you stood your best friends' dad, James, a spatula in his hand. The kitchen was filled with the scent of seasoned beef, the familiar sizzle in the cast iron skillet on the stove a comforting sound. Your eyes rake over his broad shoulders, his waist, and down to the curve of his ass in his dark blue boxers. His jeans rest low on his hips, barely held up by his butt. Man, he really needed to invest in a belt.

Right as you open your mouth to respond, the sound of heavy boots hitting the creaky floorboards accompanies the sizzle of the patties James was flipping. "Hey dad, hey babes." One of James' two sons, Scott Kelly, greets the two of you as he sits a hefty 30-count case of beer on the kitchen table. His brother, Sam Kelly, was scrolling through his phone as he nodded to you. "What’s up?"

Scott's hand slams down onto the top of the large case of beer. "Found a new flavor. Peach Busch." He grins triumphantly, while Sam snickers, shoving his phone into his pocket and sitting down in a chair next to you. "A girly drink." He sticks his tongue out at his brother, making the blond sneer. "Go fuck yourself." He mutters, tearing the flimsy cardstock handle to reach a can.

James kills the heat on the stove then tosses the spatula down onto the counter. "Watch your fuckin' mouths, alright? Jesus," he shakes his head, gathering the condiments - barbecue sauce, ketchup, mustard, mayo, and an assortment of other burger toppings - then he sets them down onto the counter. "Now sit down and hush so we can eat."

Sam licks his lips as he gets up, grabbing a few paper plates off the top of the microwave. "Huh," he hands everyone a plate, then plops down in the creaky kitchen chair, making it scrape against the dirty linoleum floor. The four of you join hands and a quick prayer later, you all take in the assortment he cooked. "So," his father begins, cracking open a beer. "How's it been goin' babygirl?"

You look up at him, in the middle of squirting ketchup onto your hamburger. "Uh, what does that entail?" You ask with a lopsided grin. Scott shrugs. "The usual, you know? Like, I dunno, any boyfriends or somethin'?" His baby blues flick up to glance at you before focusing back on his dinner. "You coulda made the fries last, Jesus." Sam mutters from next to you before taking a massive bite of his burger, brows furrowed as he hums in satisfaction.

After chatting, hot beers, and dinner, the four of you were piled on the couch, watching whatever movie you caught on TV. James had his socked feet kicked up on the busted up coffee table, his arm around you, the stench of cheap cologne and potent motor oil clinging to his skin and clothes. His hand caresses your shoulder, fiddling with your sleeve, squeezing, tracing shapes. Your eyelids flutter closed, feeling heavy. James looks down at you. "Sleepy, babygirl?" He pulls you closer up into his side. "Snuggle up buttercup." He chuckles, ruffling your hair affectionately as he removes his arm from around your shoulders to put it around your waist, large hand resting on your stomach.

As the movie goes on, Sam and Scott end up on the floor, playing UNO, oblivious to their father and best friend up on the couch. James' hand slips up your shirt, rubbing over your soft tummy, over your womb. His dark gaze falls on you, eyes half-lidding as he rubs over your warm skin, your stomach distended with all the dinner you ate. "Sheesh..." He whispers to himself, teeth gently digging into his bottom lip. 

He'd be absolutely lying to himself if he tried to say he didn't have dreams about you full and round with his baby. Disgusting, he knows. He's pushing 50 years old, his knees creak when he gets up after sitting awhile, he has to be in bed before 10pm or he'll get pissy - he has zero business wanting to knock up his young sons' barely legal best friend. You kept him young, kept him on his toes, kept him wanting to keep up with the times. He'd do nearly anything to get just a glimpse of your teenage pussy. Oh, he could already imagine how tight, how warm, how wet, how -

"Dad!" Scott's grating voice snaps James back to reality. He looks down at his son. "What?" He hisses, rubbing his hand over his dark stubble. Sam turns around and looks up at his dad, then at you, then back at his dad. "Wanna play cards with us?" He asks, waving the cards as if tempting James. You stir out of your half-asleep state, then you smile, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "Mmm, UNO?" You move away from James, standing up. You turn to look at him and hold your hands out, giggling as he lets out a heavy sigh, taking your hands and rocking back and forth before using you to get up off the couch with a groan that makes your stomach coil. "To the kitchen. I ain't gettin' down on that damn floor." James says, making his way to the kitchen. You follow as Sam and Scott gather up the cards.

"James?" Your voice calls, your hand resting on the door frame of James' bedroom. He groans, opening his eyes to look at the digital clock on his nightstand - 2:52AM. He turns his head to look at you and waves you into the bedroom. "Mm, what's wrong dollface?" He sits up, rubbing his hands over his face. You make your way over and sit down, a pout on your lips. "I can't sleep. Sam and Scotty are up playing games." You go quiet. James listens, and the resounding sound of his sons’ joint bitching at the TV reaches his ears. He rolls his eyes and licks his dry lips. "C'mon, you can lie with me." He pats the mattress. You climb into his warm bed, and once the two of you are settled in, the only sounds that grace you are your breathing, the muffled voices of the boys in the living room, and the rhythmic clicking of his rickety ceiling fan above the bed.

"Usually you're out like a light." James comments. "Well, 'least you used to be able to sleep through anything. Guess that changes when you ain't a kiddo no more." He says, a warm hand rubbing your arm to soothe you to sleep as he did when you were little on nights you would sleep over, when you would come crying to him about a nightmare. Even now, all these years later, it was incredibly endearing to him. The way you suckle around nothing and end up sleeping on your stomach. That wouldn't do if you were pregnant, though.

Throughout the night, James found himself unable to sleep. He had a raging boner, his cock aching, boxers nearly sopping with pre from all the leaking his tip had been doing. You had your cheek pressed against his shoulder, your arm draped over his doughy middle. He stares down at you in the dark, the moonlight streaming through the dusty blinds helping him see your parted lips as they catch the pallid glimmer.

James brings his hand up and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip and the corner of your mouth, collecting the drool that accumulated during your peaceful slumber. He brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks the drool off it, his eyes fluttering closed and nearly rolling back in perverted satisfaction. Removing his thumb with a gentle 'pop,' James rests his hand on your side, beginning to rub up and down, up to the side of your chest then down to your hip. "Christ," he whispers, digging his fingers into your flesh with a gentle squeeze. He finds his way into the side of your camisole, calloused hand rubbing over your breast and soft nipple, thumb caressing the bud.

He was at a really horrid angle, his joints beginning to ache already, but he deemed it worth the pain to be able to grope you in your sleep. James' other hand goes down to his crotch, slipping into his boxers and grabbing at his velvety shaft. After hearing noise he stopped for a second, then went on, rubbing his thumb over his damp tip, assuming the boys were packing it in for the night.

"Dad?" Sam's voice calls, and right as James snatches his hand out of his boxers, the bedroom light flickers on. He stares at his sons, his hand still around your soft, fatty breast. Sam's lips part as if to comment, and Scott just stares at the print of James' hand through your thin navy blue camisole. Oh, he was fucked.

“Um, are we interrupting something?” Scott finally comments, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. “We came to see whose bed she wanted to take, or if she wanted to stay in the living room. For fucks sake…” He sneers, and his brother watches, fiddling with his labret as he watches his dad slowly retract his hand from your top.

Sam's big blue eyes travel down to your now exposed stomach, blinking silently. "Hey hey, calm down," James coos, pushing himself up into a sitting position, unintentionally making you stir awake. His cock strains against his soft boxers, tip threatening to peek out from underneath the fabric scrunched around his thigh. "She can stay in whichever one'aya's bed she wants. No need to fuss." He says, and you lift your head to look at the twins, returning Sam's slow, cat-like blink. "Huh?"

With a disgusted scoff, Scott turns on his heel, his hand resting on the wood of the doorway as he readies himself to leave. "I can't believe this." He mutters, walking out and down the hallway. Sam took a moment before making a move to leave, though, but he soon followed his brother, disappearing down the hallway.

Left in a tense silence, neither you nor James commented. Just sat, oddly content, until he spoke. "I know you might think this is gross," he begins. "But... do you mind helpin' me out, babygirl?" He asks, and the two of you make eye contact, his gaze pleading while yours was surprised. "James," you murmur, your hand finding his hairy thigh. "I can try."

You make your way between his thighs, your hands resting on either side of his penis. “Can you show me what to do? I’ve never seen a guy’s thing in real life before.” You admit, examining his cock curiously. When you wrap your hand around it, a bit harshly, James hisses. “Gentle, dollface, gentle.”

“Here, slow. Slowly. Up and down. Yeah, just like that.” He watches, a smile coming across his face. “You got the hang of it already.” So, you began to stroke him, getting a feel for it, taking in the warmth, the scent, the texture, the way his shaft twitched in your grasp. You watch as his hands fist the sheets beneath him, his nostrils flaring as he nears what would be his first orgasm of the night. With a shudder, James comes undone, warm semen spurting onto your hand. “Oh.”

“You’re a natural,” James pants, his hand coming up to brush some wispy hairs away from your face. “Good job sweets. My boys are missin’ out.” He grins lazily, then falls back onto his pillow with a sigh.

You get up and adjust your top. “I should get to bed.” You make your way over to the bedroom door, and as soon as you open it, Scott and Sam stumble in sideways. Those little creeps, they had their ears up against the door, listening in. You yelp in surprise, and step back from the door. “What the hell is wrong with you two?!”

Scott’s eyes go from your face, to your cleavage, then over to his dad’s exposed cock, then back up at your face. “No fucking way his jizz is on your hand right now.” Sam chimes in, glaring at your hand with contempt. Overcome with embarrassment, you look down at your sock-clad feet, eyes tracing the checkerboard patterned fabric. “Are you listening to me?”

You and Scott were so preoccupied that neither of you noticed James come up behind you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder, his dick still out of the confines of his boxers. “It ain’t somethin’ to be ‘shamed of, you know.” He reassures, caressing your shoulder as he looks between his twin sons. “I never got to give y’all the talk, did I? Maybe now’s a good time, yeah?”

Scott was a bit more enthusiastic than you anticipated. Sam, on the other hand, seemed more hesitant. Though judging by the tent in his shorts, he was far from unaffected. With a deep breath, you settle down onto the bed, the boys on either side of you. James stands in front of you three, his cock noticeably hardening. “What the fuck,” Scott whispers to himself, meanwhile Sam was shifting around, trying to relieve the friction in his bottoms.

James begins pacing, starting his impromptu sex ed lesson. “It’s not a weird thing to talk about. Sex is how we all got here. ‘S a natural thing.” He reaches down and tucks himself back in, thankfully. “It’s not just a way to make life, but to pleasure yourself, too. Everyone likes it.” Their father turns and looks between his sons, then his eyes settle on Sam. “Especially you,” he points. “You think I don’t hear you?” He then looks at Scott. “You? Don’t even get me started on the shit I hear you watching.” The blond raises an eyebrow, parting his lips to bitch back when James goes on. “Both’a’ya think she and I are disgusting for doing shit like this when really, we not. You just ain’t mature enough to get it through your heads that you two not the only ones that think with their dick.”

Sam looked especially uncomfortable now, doing his damndest to not make eye contact with any of the others in the room. “Then give us a hands-on lesson if you give so much of a shit.” Scott quips, making everyone look at him. Realizing his mistake, he widens his eyes. “Wait! I’m fucking with you, I’m fucking with you, I’m fucking with you!” He rambles, making you snicker, until Sam finally chimed in. “Can we?” He asks. The other three of you turn to look at Sam, his cheeks reddening a deeper shade.

“Fine then,” James says, making his way to the bed. “Lay down sweetpea.” He urges you, gently pushing your shoulder, a silent instruction for  you to lay back. “Usin’ you for some edjumacation, just relax dollface.” He smiles, and you make a noise of confusion as he runs his hand over your stomach. “Watch boys,” he instructs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts. He tugs them down, your thighs jiggling as your hips plop back down onto the bed. 

You can’t help but feel embarrassed, you were being put on display for a less than ideal anatomy lesson, and the two boys you’d called your best friends since you could remember were staring at you like they could just devour you. The room fills with the nervous laughter of the two others as your body unfolds before them, eager to learn the intricacies that make you so unique. Your stomach was revealed first, followed by your thighs. As Scott giggles, you flush, feeling a sudden heat fill your face.

With your underwear the only thing keeping your intimate parts hidden, James gives a shit-eating grin to his audience, who tap their feet and shuffle in anticipation. James then hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and gives a swift tug down, revealing your fat, squishy mound and puffy pussy lips, soft and inviting. The sight of your hidden treasure causes the boys’ eyes to widen, taking in every detail of your body.

Your cheeks flame with mortification, an uncomfortable mix of embarrassment and arousal. The twins sat gazing at your exposed body, their eyes raking it in all its glory. You shudder, goosebumps forming on your skin as you sense their unabashed curiosity and lust. Pleased with his handiwork, James steps back, hands resting on his hips. “Go on, you two always were hands-on learners anyways.”

Scott, on your left, reaches out and touches your breast, his palm cupping the mound, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. You were overwhelmed with humiliation and pleasure, which was only amplified when you felt someone between your thighs. When you lifted your head to look down, you saw Sam on his knees before you, lips inches away from your pussy. “There you go, touch on ‘er.” James encourages the boys before taking a seat on the bed to your right, his large hand coming to rest on your stomach. “You’re such a trooper babygirl.”

You felt heat coursing through your veins, and you were unsure whether to be disgusted by the incestuous display or to just continue going with it. The feeling of being stripped of your dignity and autonomous power left you in a state of confusion, but your stomach coiled with a twisted thrill that came with the degradation. “Eat ‘er out, Sammy.” Scott tells his brother, sitting up straight. He swings one leg over your body and straddles your chest, then pulls his sweatpants down enough to remove his cock comfortably. His musky shaft bounces free before hitting you in the face. “Open your mouth- open it,”

You open your mouth willingly, the tip of Scott’s cock gliding past your lips and into the warm sanctuary of your mouth. Your tongue traces the underside of his shaft, sending tremors through his body. James watches in satisfaction as his sons take turns pleasuring you. Scott’s rough, unskilled hands gripping your head to guide his cock into your mouth contrast with Sam’s gentle, teasing tongue that flicks at your clit. As you begin to get into it, the twins sense it, their eagerness increasing tenfold. The blond bottoms out, balls against your chin as he groans, barely able to hold himself up, his thighs tensing. “Fucking- oh my- oh fuck,” he hisses, fully intent on keeping the two of you that way until James had to guide him back out. “Off.”

When Scott and Sam move out of the way, James settles between your legs and with a firm grip, finds your hips and snatches you to the very edge of the bed, his lips meeting yours for a slow, deep kiss. He groans softly against your lips, cock resting on your mound, the taste of peach beer like honey on his tongue.

James breaks the kiss and looks up at his sons. “Fuckin’ hell, Sam, play with ‘er tits.” The teen nods, hands finding your breasts, kneading the flesh gently. He drinks in the sight of the mounds jiggling beneath his touch, the curves and contours calling to him like a siren. “Scott, get under her.”

Scott doesn't waste a moment, his bottoms getting kicked across the room and hitting the floor, joining all the clutter and shit in his dad's room. He maneuvers underneath you, arms wrapping around your middle. “You good doll?” James asks, and you nod, hands on top of Sam's, guiding him to play with your nipples in a way that'll bring you the most pleasure. “Yeah, ‘m good,”

“Good.”

With the help of James’ hand, Scott's cock pushes into you, pulling an embarrassingly loud moan from your lips. “Oh, fuck!” You arch your back and Scott pulls you back down. “Stay,” he whispers hotly against your ear. “Stay right there.” In the heat of the moment, you didn't even notice that James was beginning to push into you as well until your poor cunt was being stretched to the brim. “James! James- ‘s so- ohhh, can't fit it,” you slur, making the man chuckle. “Yeah you can. Cunts are made for this, it's just a lil’ difficult ‘cause you're so young, babygirl.” After a bit of struggle, James penetrates you, your warm walls enveloping him. A guttural moan escapes him as he starts to grind against you, the friction from his son's cock against his paired with your wet heat almost too much for him to handle. “Atta girl, grippin’ me tight.” He smirks, drinking in the moans and cries that came from your lips.

Sam leans down and captures your lips in a soft kiss, much different from the other two on a mission to ravage your poor body. One of his hands tangles in your hair while the other is shoved down his pants, palming his shaft over his boxers. He was waiting, itching to have a go at you.

Your eyes flutter open, hazy gaze meeting James', whose eyes were sparkling with a devious triumph. “You gonna let us cum inside ya sweetiepie?” He asks, moving his hips in a rhythm that compliments Scott's. Since you were stretched so far and the friction was so great, the two of them had to find something that worked.

“Fuck, ‘m close,” Scott moans, his fingers digging into the flesh of your sides, tugging at you. The desperation in his voice is almost laughable. Sam breaks the kiss with a snicker. “Think it’s been like two minutes, dude. Pull out, let me.” Scott nods and does so, his cock glistening with your juices as he crawls out from underneath you.

With everyone out of the way, the three of them looming over you like a hungry pack of wolves, you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. The others join in, the sound of their laughter mixing with the shuffling around. “I can’t even sit right,” you giggle, running your hands through your damp hair.

“I know. It’ll be fine babycakes. Get up.” James grins, turning you over so you were now on your tummy. “Gonna run a train through ya baby. Ready?” He lifts your hips, hands coming to rest on your ass. “Gonna take all of us, yeah?” His sweet talking distracted you from the way the teens were maneuvering your body, putting you in a position they wanted you.

James spits down onto his cock, lubing it up before he pushes the tip of it against your tight cunt. He grunts, feeling the resistance, but he’s determined. With a swift thrust, he breaches you, his cock sinking deeper with each rock of his hips, making your pussy stretch open. The boys, not to be outdone, get to work on their part. Sam guides his cock into your inviting mouth, your tongue swirling around his cockhead while your saliva bathes him. Scott groans, smacking your cheek with his own member, smearing precum onto your skin. “Fuck yeah,” he grins. “Take it like that baby, take Sam’s dick in your mouth.”

“Ghhk- hhg, kkh-” you gag on Sam’s cock, eyes shut as you struggle to breathe. Your body is a mess of pleasure, tits bouncing with every thrust, your pussy gripping James’ cock and your mouth moving up and down Sam’s. Your moans are muffled, but it only makes it all the more arousing. Sam pulls out and his dick is replaced with his brother’s, Scott’s tip hitting the back of your throat. The springs in the old, cheap mattress squeak and creak underneath the combined weight of the four of you.

Scott’s fingers tangle in your hair and grip your skull, being fed off the sounds of you choking and struggling. “Fucking take it, don’t fucking stop,” he growls, teeth gritting. “I wan’ cum on ‘er face,” Sam chimes in, getting off the bed, hand beginning to fist his cock as he waits for the other two. Following suit, James pulls out and so does Scott, the pair pulling you down onto the floor.

You cough, attempting to catch your breath before they get their hands on you again. You steady yourself with your hands on the dingy carpet, getting ready for the facial. “Fuck babygirl, close your eyes and stick that tongue out.” James commands, watching as you oblige. “Oh shit, keep it right there,” Scott pants, and you let out a surprised squeal as your face is covered in sticky sperm. You give an open-mouthed giggle and slowly open your eyes, keeping your tongue out.

It frosted your nose and cheeks and tongue, and your lashes were matted as you looked up at the three of them, meeting their satisfied expressions. Hopefully there would be a second class for James’ anatomy course.

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @addictedtohobi , @102hannah , @emmaloo21 , @vixxensvoid , @ilovekmchenzie ﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @laylaplease , @brooklynb8by , @geekforhorror , @gallerygourmet , @anakinsbbgirl ﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @literally-izzy , @anakinstwinklebunny , @jadegmfu , @bimbo-baggins17 , @thesassypadawan ﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @t03soup , @trippyhippywitch , @valloos , @demieyesore , @piastricentric ﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @s1aywalker , @s1ck-skv1l , @catnipaddictt , @gabsskkk , @slutforfinnickodair﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @realscott , @jediavengers , @enchant5d , @zapernz , @starlmbed﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @offthethirlwall , @tfmerc , @dazednstars141 , @anisluvrgirl , @stepdadjameskelly﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @cocobear18 , @poutypisces , @mugwump327 , @espinathena-17 , @fallout-girl219﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 . @necromancerrrs , @decaffeinatedunicorn , @speaknow-sw , @lunarnightt﹒📧

ılıl﹕𖥻 .  @jyinnc , @haydenslittlegirl ﹒📧

[phyx-m]

MDNI.

You are a servant at the King of Curses shrine. You decide to run away one night. Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t tolerate such disobedience.

*****

As you run tirelessly, your bare feet slap against the damp, packed earth. The forest blurs around you, the details scrambling in your frantic pace. There was no time to put on footwear. You just needed to run—run for your goddamn miserable life.

Less than an hour ago, in the dead of night, you managed to escape from the King of Curses' shrine. For over a year, you have been a servant there, though it felt more like captivity, forced to stay and serve him. You've witnessed enough nightmarish scenarios to scar you for eternity. Now, you long for a new kind of freedom.

“Oooh braaaat,” a deep, disembodied voice calls out behind you, sending a chill through your heated skin.

The monster is coming.

You lift the hem of your cream-colored robe and scramble over a fallen tree. The soles of your feet are sore from maneuvering through brambles and twigs, and you're certain they feel cut, stinging painfully with each step. Slick hair clings to your face, and you constantly wipe your forehead as sweat drips into your eyes from the exertion.

You aren’t sure where you're running to. All you know is that—

“Brat! I’ll give you to the count of ten to get back here, or I’ll bite your tiny little fingers off,” his voice grows colder. He's furious that someone as insignificant as you dared to escape him.

Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t tolerate such disobedience.

“I won’t go back!” you call out to him, your voice ragged. He doesn’t respond, but you can sense his footsteps quickening in the brush behind you.

Ahead, there’s a rocky ravine. You scramble then slide down its rugged face, feeling scratches score your backside as you land roughly at the bottom with a soft oof. Without pausing to look back, you keep going.

A loud thud shakes the earth, signalling that he has dropped into the ravine behind you. Glancing back over your shoulder, you finally see him.

Illuminated by the moonlight, he appears utterly terrifying and devastating all at once. He saunters now, fixating his eyes on you. He's in no rush; after all, he enjoys playing with his victims.

"Hello, my little runaway," he says patronizingly, his eyes widening as he relishes the fear that flashes across your face.

As he sees you still running from him, a feral grin breaks across his features, contorting the tattoos on his face. The maw on his stomach mirrors his smile. Its tongue unfurls and laps at the night air like it’s trying to taste you.

You tear your gaze from the monster and pick up your pace, pumping your arms as you aim for the end of the ravine. It's the only escape route, as the steep walls prevent climbing back up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Sukuna chuckles cryptically. But you ignore him.

Just as you reach the edge, something snags your attention. Initially, the massive, cursed spirit doesn't register, but as it ambles down the ravine’s walls and into your path, you skid to a halt and look up—up—up—at it.

Your heart plummets to your feet.

Its mouth opens, exposing needle-like teeth, and you're certain you see human flesh impaled on a few. The cursed spirit advances with a grotesque claw, causing you to step back.

Glancing over your shoulder, you spot Sukuna standing casually, his four arms crossed over his chest. His expression is pure delight as he observes the unfolding scene.

You're trapped—caught between two monsters.

You jerk your head back to the massive cursed spirit as it slowly closes in on you. The stench of its breath makes you gag.

"I did warn you," Sukuna scoffs from behind. You refuse to glance back at him, keeping your eyes trained on the curse while walking backwards in slow, measured steps.

The curse accelerates, its four legs scrabbling for traction as it maneuvers its immense body through the ravine toward you. Tiny rocks and pebbles scatter, forcing you to retreat another step.

Terror grips you as you face a crucial decision.

You glance at the curse, then back at Sukuna, eyes darting between the two.

Sukuna. Cursed spirit. Sukuna. Cursed spirit.

What's the right choice? Death or something else?

A heartbeat later.

You pivot, whirling around to face Sukuna. He's already aware of your decision. He slowly unfurls his four arms, spreading them wide with a wicked smile.

"Come here, idiot," he sneers from the other end of the ravine.

Behind you, the cursed spirit’s claws pound into the earth, urging you to flee. You run—straight toward the very monster you had been running from.

Sukuna stays rooted in place, waiting for you. His smile widens impossibly larger, his four red orbs practically glowing. Every muscle in his body ripples and tenses. His fingertips twitch anxiously, eager to grasp your soft, small frame to his.

"Hurry up, it’s gaining on you," he laughs callously, offering no help as you stumble towards him, navigating rocks and debris.

Finally, within reach, you hurl yourself at him. His four arms snap out and catch you midair, pulling you tightly toward him as he slams your body against his bare chest. Caught. His body doesn’t budge from the impact. He presses his face into your hair, inhaling your fear and sweat from the chase.

"Got you," he murmurs, his mouth pressed to the top of your head, his breath burning against your skull.

You strain your neck to look up at him. He’s massive, towering over you, and his immense presence makes you feel small. Swallowing hard, you meet his intense gaze. His four eyes burn, and you feel like you're drowning under those red pools.

Without averting his gaze from yours, Sukuna releases a hand from your trembling form and extends it toward the approaching cursed spirit. His index and middle fingers extend, and with a swipe through the air, the curse crashes to the ground and dies.

He grins wickedly. "Now, someone needs to be taught a lesson for thinking they can just up and leave their King." Quickly, he lifts you and throws you over his shoulder. The ground feels far away as you dangle in his grip. He adjusts your position so that your upper body hangs over his back, and your lower body presses against his chest, your backside against the side of his head.

Turning, Sukuna begins to walk back to the shrine, his prey caught firmly in his grasp. Tonight, he has plans for you—plans to remind you of who you belong to.

Tension fills the trek back to the shrine. Neither you nor Sukuna speaks. You hang there helplessly, watching the muscles in his back twist and coil with each step, his tattoos moving fluidly. You have to force yourself to look away and focus on the forest, which has gone eerily silent. There are no sounds of animals or insects, as if his presence has driven them all away. Naturally, they’re frightened of him. Who wouldn’t be? You pout and stare at the ground, your arms swaying with each of his movements.

After a while, Sukuna finally speaks. "Someone's sulking because they got caught," he huffs, placing a firm hand on your backside, causing you to turn your head toward him. "It was stupid to think you could get away." You give him your best death stare, directed at the side of his head.

"You aren’t subtle. I can see that," Sukuna says, shifting his lower eye to snap its gaze onto you. You quickly look away, feeling your face heat up. “Tch… idiot.”

Suddenly, a pair of hands snake up and around your ankles. Clutching them, he forces your legs open. Your eyes widen. You want to sit up but can’t because of the way he is holding you. One more hand slowly creeps up your leg, then thigh, then below your undergarment.

"Let's start with your first lesson for trying to run away from me." He keeps his head forward, not even glancing back at you as he walks. You can sense that this is just the beginning, a preamble to whatever punishment he has in store for you.

Pushing the fabric of your undergarment aside, he exposes your cunt to the evening chill.

“S-sukuna,” you stammer and begin wriggling on his shoulder. The hand that was on your backside draws up and then comes crashing back down onto your behind.

Smack!

“Ah!” You cry out from the sharp sting. Your rear is still tender from sliding down the rocky ravine, and now it’s throbbing.

“You ran away from me brat. I don’t pity those who disobey me. Now shut up and take it,” he says harshly, keeping his hand on your tender asscheek as he kneads it through the fabric.

You remain quiet, staring at the ground, trying not to shift under his forceful hand. He keeps walking, his strides so large that you know you'll be back at the shrine soon.

Still grasping your ankles open, you wonder what he will do next. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him raise a hand to his mouth and spit a glob of saliva onto his fingers. The sight of the sticky mess makes you shudder. Bringing his soaking digits back to where he had them, he yanks your undergarment away again.

“Let’s try this again.” His voice is gravelly as he smears his saliva-coated fingertips across your folds. You fight the urge to squirm, heart pounding against his shoulder, and you are sure he can feel it because his three hands tighten around you. Hard. Firm. He is holding you in place.

“You like that?” He muses as his massive fingers push your swollen pussy lips up and down and side to side in slow, torturous circles. “From now on, I want you in my chambers every night. And if you try to escape again, I will chain you up like a dog,” he hisses. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes, Master Sukuna,” you say, panting at the treatment he is giving you. It makes you feel heated like your entire body is pulsating.

“Good girl. Now let me have my first taste of this sweet cunt of yours.” He drives one of his fingers past your outer lips, pressing deeply into your clenching walls. You moan loudly, hips bucking. Your arms shoot out, and you desperately cling on for dear life to his lower shoulder. Slowly, he begins to push the finger in, then out, in, then out as he stretches you.

“So fucking tight.” He runs his tongue across his teeth. “We’ll need to fix that for what I have planned.”

Stepping over a rock, you feel his body tipping slightly. The movement catches you off guard, and he uses that to push even deeper, making you a quivering wreck as slick coats your inner thighs. Pleased by the sounds you are making, he quickens the pace until you are writhing.

“Such a needy little thing,” he chuckles, sliding in a second finger.

“Oh! Fuuuck, please, no more,” you cry out. Ignoring you, he bullies the second one in deeper. He pushes until his knuckles graze your folds, then twists them in a circling motion before he pulls away, only to slam them back in. In and out, curling them occasionally, making you tighten around him.

“Ahh-ah! Sukuna!” You whine. He laughs mercilessly at how easy it is to get you all riled up. Your hips grind forward as if your body wants to increase the pressure.

“That’s a good girl. Keep showing me how pitiful you are.” He mockingly swats your ass a few times.

“Too much,” you moan, mouth dropping open, blood rushing to your head.

He chuckles again. “Oh, we are just getting started, brat.” He punctuates the last few words with a few forceful thrusts of his fingers, making you scream.

You were so lost in the sensations that you barely noticed him climbing steps, signaling your arrival at the shrine. The steps pass through your line of vision as you hang over his shoulder, reminding you that you're back at the place you tried to escape.

Pushing open the massive doors, Sukuna strides in with you atop his shoulder. You can hear a group of servants gathered at the main entrance gossiping about your daring escape. He’s still fingering you unapologetically so everyone can hear the sound of your wet squelching cunt. Your face heats in embarrassment as their chattering fades, and they turn towards their Master. You squeeze your thighs around his hand, attempting to halt his ministrations.

“Go back to your fucking rooms!” Sukuna bellows, and they scatter like frightened rabbits in the presence of a predator.

Huffing, he nudges your thighs apart and begins to stroll down one of the corridors, no doubt heading for somewhere private. You can see his enormous shadow cast on the floor by the lanterns, but you don’t stare long because you feel a third finger enter your sloppy heat, making your eyes slam shut.

“Oh, god,” you moan as he fills you up further, slick running down his hand. You are practically vibrating with need as he plunges deeper.

There’s a loud rumble from Sukuna’s chest. “You should be referring to me as your god tonight.” Another swat to your ass, you squeal.

Suddenly, you hear a door slide open with a loud bang, and Sukuna carries you into a dimly lit room. The door slams shut. Lifting your head, you see the overwhelming extravagance of the space—opulent wood furnishings and rich fabrics confirm that you’ve entered his lavish chambers.

After a few measured steps, Sukuna removes his fingers from inside you, and then abruptly, you feel yourself go airborne. The world blurs as you fly off his shoulder and crash onto the futon with a yelp. Fortunately, you land on a cushioned surface, sinking into its softness.

Without a moment's notice, he moves toward you. As he looms over you, you instinctively tilt your head to meet his gaze. His presence is imposing, and the way he stands so close casts a shadow across your form.

Raising his fingers glistening with your essence, he brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean.

“So sweet," he hums, licking up every last drop. You blush and clench your thighs together at the sight.

Surveying his fingers, he returns his attention to you. Splaying his hand across your breastbone, he shoves you onto your back, watching as your hair spills out and your anxious eyes dart up to meet his.

Leaning over your body, he puts his face directly before yours. "What was your plan if you had managed to escape?" he asks, moving his lower hands to your trembling thighs and gripping them tightly while his upper hands go on either side of your head, caging you in.

You swallow, taking a moment to let your brain catch up to the situation you’ve found yourself in. The King of Curses hovering over you, your juices staining his lips.

"… maybe going to a village. Starting anew, marrying a good man, and starting a family,” you say quietly.

Sukuna’s upper lip twitches. He glares down at you, clearly upset with your answer—no, he’s fucking fuming. 

Suddenly, his lower hands clutch your ankles, and you’re being yanked to the edge of the futon so your legs hang off.

He steps back.

“Start anew? Marry a good man? Start a family? Do you think you deserve those things?” His tone becomes colder, and he’s crossing his four arms over his chest.

“Well, I—”

“You don’t! You are nothing. Worthless. Now, take your fucking clothes off,” he demands.

Instantly, a knot forms in your belly. You want to refuse, but you know it’s futile. Sitting up, you scoot closer, eyes fixed on him, and your hands go to your obi. Unravelling it, you reach for the front panels of your robe, shrugging it off and onto the bed. Now, in your undergarment, you hesitate before reaching for them.

“Slower,” he interjects, as his upper hands move to his hakama, and pulls it down, allowing it to pool at his feet. Two monstrous cocks—hard and weeping with precum—eagerly spring forward. Biting your lower lip, you avert your eyes, lowering them and looking away.

“Ah, ah, ah. Look at me,” his voice rises as he gives you the command.

You return your eyes to him, taking in his naked form. You are transfixed by the sight before you. Despite his reputation as the King of Curses—a monster to many including yourself—he stands before you as the epitome of perfection, unmatched by any other in this world.

Grabbing both heavy shafts, he begins to stroke in slow, languid motions. You want to tear your eyes away, but you can’t. It’s so mesmerizing. His hand squeezing the swollen meat makes you clench around nothing.

“Go on then,” he hedges. His voice has become seductively lower as he grins viciously at you, waiting for you to reveal yourself to his hungry eyes.

Moving in what feels like slow motion, you gradually remove the last piece of clothing covering your body. Your eyes meet, and your face flushes as he drinks you in. Heated face, pert nipples, supple tits, soaking cunt. He already groped your ass on the way back, and he can’t wait to sink into it.

You are everything he wants.

“Look at you,” he rasps, increasing the intensity of his strokes. 

You watch him in awe as his balls start shifting forward, moving with the actions. It’s turning you on, watching him pleasuring himself to the mere sight of you. But suddenly, he stops, you pout. He gestures with two fingers directly at the spot on the floor in front of him.

“Get on your knees,” he gives the order, and your body unconsciously obeys. Before you even realize it, you find yourself kneeling before him.

“Such a good girl,” he breathes out, “although your answer on why you wanted to escape needs to be addressed.”

A hand comes forward, and he inserts his thumb into your mouth, hooking it to your bottom lip and teeth. His other fingers go to your chin to pry it open.

“Open wide and say ahhh.”

You don’t even have time to because he’s already shoving his throbbing upper dick past your lips and deep into your throat.

You flinch, then strain and sputter to hold in his girth, feeling your mouth stretch as tears well up and begin to slide down your flushed cheeks. The satisfied groan that rumbles in his chest is so loud it makes your whole body vibrate.

“Fuck… just like that.” Sukuna hisses through gritted teeth, then steadily moves his hips back and forth. His eyes narrow as he watches you, trying to accommodate him.

Almost gently, he pushes your hair back to get a better look at your face. His crimson eyes stare down at you, making you want to shy away and lower your head.

“Open that pretty mouth wider for me,” he says reverently, running a thumb across your cheek and through your tears.

Obediently, you open your mouth wider until your jaw twinges. Sukuna’s eyes glimmer with satisfaction as he begins to thrust deeper and harder into your constricting throat. You moan as drool cascades in rivers dripping down to your chest, his cock, his balls, and then the floor.

“That’s it,” he groans, hips snapping until you are pressed to his navel, his cock sufficiently stuffed down your throat. Your moans grow louder, and Sukuna grunts from the vibrations, tilting his head back, his mouth agape. 

His thrusts slow once he is pleased with the mess you’ve made. He pulls out of your sopping mouth to look down at you on your knees. He’s so damn pleased to see you down there, he can’t stand it. Gripping his lower cock, he slides it into your wanting mouth for you to suck and lick at. He releases the upper one, causing it to hit your face with a wet slap, drenching you in your spit.

"You will be a disgusting mess when I’m finished with you. And after that, we will do it all again." He declares, voice growing deeper with lust as he runs the wet shaft along your cheeks while fucking your face with the other one.

You look up at him in a lustful daze, trying your best to keep up, gagging and choking your way through it. It turns you on the way he uses you like this, the way he is dominating you. And you know it pleases him to no end. The inexcusable heat that pools between your folds drives you mad, and Sukuna notices. He sees how your eyes have become heavy-lidded and your movements more sensual.

With one more thrust, he makes you gag a final time before withdrawing. Strings of drool connect the two of you, making you groan at the filthy sight. You take a moment to gasp for air and try to catch your breath as you prepare for his next move.

He breathes down at you, a sneer crawling across his face. "You want me. I can see it in your pathetic pleading eyes," he says, his smug tone almost shaming you, but you nod in agreement.

Sukuna reacts instantly, lifting you by your arms and throwing you back onto the futon. You squeal as you land on your back. You really should be more prepared for this kind of treatment.

Approaching you like a feral animal, he flips you onto your stomach, forcing you on all fours as he climbs behind you.

With the soles of your feet exposed, Sukuna touches the cuts and sores you acquired during tonight's chase. You feel him tense briefly, grumbling wordlessly before he goes quiet as if it had never been there.

You feel him lean closer to you. “Tell me what you want slut,” he growls, running a hand teasingly along your inner thigh and through the wetness that has leaked out. “Do you want to be wrecked by me? Is that what you want?”

His filthy words make you tremble with need. It’s a thick feeling, making your brain fuzzy.

"I... I, uh..." You hesitate, unwilling to tell him what you truly desire. How you want to be fucked into oblivion. To be held down by all four of his arms as he takes you. To forget all the reasons for wanting to leave this place, but you stay silent.

“Speak!”

“Fuck me!”

So much for staying silent.

He clicks his tongue, and you can almost imagine the smug, prideful, arrogant expression as he leans over your back—a true king.

He presses his mouth to the shell of your ear. "Then, my pretty little runaway, you will be fucked, stretched and filled so you can never leave this place again,” he whispers. Goosebumps pebble across your skin because of a few words.

Sukuna aligns the fat head of his lower cock with your wet entrance, gradually pushing in. As soon as the tip slips inside, he thrusts himself forward until you completely engulf him.

“Ryomen!” His first name flies from your mouth as he enters you, trying to suck in a breath at the sudden intrusion, but you love how deliciously full your pussy feels.

"That's right, I'll fill you up until you can't take any more. Your greedy body needs to be taught a lesson,” he murmurs as he begins thrusting, his hips moving like a piston. Your body starts to tremble uncontrollably. You have to brace yourself against the futon to keep from collapsing under his intense movements.

With each powerful thrust, his upper cock slaps against the seam of your ass, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You can feel the precum spattering against you with each movement. The lewd sensation only heightens as the friction between your bodies increases. You can’t help but moan as he continues to drive into you, the sound melding with the slap of skin on skin.

Sukuna's movements slow down abruptly, his fingers digging into your hips. "It's time to take all of me," he growls through gritted teeth.

You can hear him spit, and then you feel a warm glob land above your ass, making you flinch. He massages it down to your unfilled hole and coats it with his saliva before slowly inserting his fingers inside. His movements are deliberate and sensual, savouring the sight before him.

“Ahhh,” you moan, rocking your hips back and forth as he slides his fingers in and out of your asshole before removing them and pressing the blunt head against it.

Bracing yourself, you prepare for his second cock to enter you. Your body tenses up with nerves, and you grip onto the sheets. The pressure builds at your entrance as he begins to penetrate you.

It builds and builds. Until a sharp pain shoots through your body as he pushes it in. 

“It hurts,” you let out a low whine, unable to hold back the discomfort.

"Shh, you will take it," he says with a dangerous tone, ignoring your protests and continuing to inch forward.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally manages to work it past the rim. With one final shove, he forces it in all the way. The sudden stretching sensation is intense, causing your mouth to drop open and drool to spill uncontrollably. The pain subsides quickly, replaced by a deep throbbing that spreads throughout your entire being.

You are completely filled by the King of Curses.

“Hmngh, fuck, yes,” You can't help the throaty moan that breaks loose from you. You are too far gone now as you rock back against him, desperate for him to start moving inside of you. “Fuck me,” you plead.

He doesn’t move. He wants to torture you some more.

“Look at that,” he murmurs. His lower hands run reverently across the curve of your ass as he admires the sight of you bent over and fully impaled on his dual cocks. "This is how it will always be. Every fucking night. You and me. This." he growls aggressively.

Pulling back all the way until you feel just the tips inside of you. He pauses, leaving you tense, before thrusting forward with full force. The impact scrambles your mind, and you fist the sheets before the moans and screams start tumbling out.

The rhythm he sets now that your snug holes are swallowing him is relentless. You can feel yourself being driven towards the edge. There’s the sound of grunting. It’s either him or you. You can’t even be sure. Everything is just a daze, making you babble incoherently.

Splat!

You feel a rough, slimy tongue glide across your lower back as his stomach maw emerges. It explores around your tailbone, sending tingles up your spine and causing you to writhe uncontrollably. Your reactions, please, Sukuna. He breathes harder, and he increases his thrusts, driving himself into you with more vigour. As a result, drool from his maw splatters onto your heated skin and drenches the sheets. He had warned you that things might get messy, and he wasn't exaggerating.

“You like that? You like being pummeled by me?” You can barely hear him through the sounds of your fucking.

“Yes,” you moan out, hoping that’s what he wanted to hear.

He roughly grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you back, causing your spine to arch. From this angle, you can catch a glimpse of his profile. He continues to thrust into you forcefully like an animal, and as your eyes meet his, he places a hand on your throat, fingers tightening as he applies pressure until you struggle for air. Your body goes limp in his hold, arms dangling helplessly at your sides.

He’s like a monster coveting a prized possession. It feels good—almost too good—being treated this way by him.

He leans in, his rough breath tickling your nape as he nips and licks at it. You can feel the roughness of his mask grazing against your skin, and despite yourself, you can't help but enjoy it. You can only imagine his view of you submitting to him like this.

"Tell me who you belong to," he whispers gruffly, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrusts in and out, dull nails poking at your flesh.

“You! I belong to you,” your needy voice reaches his ears.

Smack!

His hand comes down hard on your ass.

"Louder! Tell me louder, who do you belong to?"

Your eyes roll back. You can feel yourself getting closer to climax.

"You!" You scream, feeling like a wild banshee. "You! My King! It's always been you!"

Smack!

Another painful slap lands on your ass, causing tears to well up in your eyes from the pleasure and pain.

"Yes! Fuck me harder!" You cry out, urging him on as he picks up the pace.

“That’s right,” he hisses as he tries to maintain his rhythm, but it becomes increasingly erratic. He's losing control now. He’s never one to lose control.

You notice him shifting his leg, placing one foot closer to your upper body for better leverage. He thrusts into you with more force, his hands gripping onto you as he takes what he wants: your complete submission.

"Cum for me!" He commands, tightening his grip on your throat. He wants to see you cream all over him. Wants to feel you clench onto his cocks like your life depends on it.

He pushes your face down onto the futon, and the hand around your throat moves to your cheek, tilting it to the side so he can witness every expression on your beautiful face.

He's hitting all the right spots inside you from this new angle. It's intense, almost too much to handle. The maw’s tongue suddenly swipes up your back, making your body tremble. That’s it for you. The heat is building up, coiling in your belly. You know you're close to release. All you can do is look at him as his thrusts become more forceful, his thumbs digging into your hips, and you feel his cock hit against your cervix.

"That’s it. Cum for me," he grunts, urging you on as he keeps pounding into you.

He fucks you so brutally it seems as though he pushes you to the brink of despair, almost abandoning you, before pulling you back like the sweetest salvation.

You scream out in ecstasy, begging him to go harder as you watch him, watching you reach your peak. Your walls clench around him, drenching his lower cock in your juices.

“M-my King!” You scream until your lungs are sore and abused, your eyes fluttering shut as you lose yourself in him.

He grins evilly, his face twisting with pleasure as he thrusts inside you. "Look at me," he demands, wanting your undivided attention. You open yours and lock eyes with him, feeling his two members throbbing inside you as he gives you a few final thrusts before slamming down on you with all his weight.

"Let my cum fill you up," he groans, and the intense heat that fills you is like burning lava. His release is unlike anything you've ever felt, seemingly endless as it fills you to the brim. Over and over. And you eagerly take it, writhing beneath him and moaning as your body milks him for more.

"Sukuna!" You cry out desperately, not wanting this sensation to end as your body twitches and shakes beneath him. But eventually, his seed stops showering your insides, and he slows.

"Good girl," he smirks, looking down at your exhausted form and the cum leaking out from between your used holes. He pats your face condescendingly before pushing you off his members.

Your body jerks forward as Sukuna pulls away. You make a small keening noise at the loss of his touch. His naked form abruptly retreats from you and leaves the room, making you frown at his sudden absence and the loss of his warmth. You fall back onto the futon and turn over, staring at the ceiling as you try to steady your breathing and heartbeat.

You hear him return moments later, carrying a small water basin and cloth. He places them on the futon, grabs your ankle, and reels you closer to him.

Lifting your foot, he examines the cuts and sores on your soles. A tiny crease begins to form above his nose—subtle, but you catch it. Then, with practiced efficiency, he dips the cloth into the water and gently cleans your wounds.

"Why the hell weren’t you wearing footwear this time, you little shit?" he asks, his tone tinged with irritation.

The game between you two is officially over.

You sigh, relaxing. You had noticed him trying to hide his concern about your feet all night, and knowing this makes your heart thump.

Lying there naked on your back, you look at him hulking over you, holding your foot delicately between his firm hands.

"I was too excited," you huff and shrug. "I forgot to grab ‘em."

He stares at you as if you were a child while the warm, damp cloth glides along your foot. You try not to pull away from the tickling sensation as little droplets slide down your leg.

"Oh, you were excited. You forgot to grab them, was it?" he mimics, admonishing you as he squeezes your calf hard. "Footwear next time.”

You roll your eyes. "I’m not the only one who should be in trouble here. What about that cursed spirit you almost let kill me—"

"If you honestly believe I’d ever let anything happen to you, then you're even more of a fool than I thought," he snaps, his eyes flashing with intensity. "I would never allow my wife to be in danger… idiot." His voice softens slightly as he carefully cleans both of your feet. Then, suddenly, he tosses the damp cloth onto your face.

It slaps against you. “Ay!” you exclaim, pulling it off and flinging it at him. He catches it with impressive reflexes, drops it into the basin, and sets it on the floor.

Your husband crawls next to you, pulling you into his chest, four arms encircling you.

Caught.

He presses his face into your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of musk from your brutal fucking, and plants a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

You stay quiet and still as you relax in his arms, your mind replaying the night's events. You remind yourself to return the servant’s robe you borrowed for this.

Sukuna shifts suddenly as if agitated by, gods know what.

“What you said about leaving, starting anew, finding a good man—I would hunt you down, you know,” he pauses momentarily, considering his words. “Then I would fuck you in front of him and rip his spinal cord through his mouth and drag you back here,” Sukuna growls, his lips brushing against your skin with soft kisses.

Your heart tightens. The jealousy over some imaginary man you mentioned is almost sweet.

"Hmm, I know you would," you say, settling against him even more.

You know you would never leave him because you have everything you need right here. He is the only one who can satisfy your perverse desires, and you might be the only one who doesn't see him as the disgraceful monster he truly is.

You both lie there together, your bodies aching in ways you never thought possible.

Finally, you break the silence. “When you threatened to chain me up like a dog… were you serious?” You ask, trying to mask your true intentions.

“Princess,” he says with a patronizing affection, “when am I not serious with my threats?” You can hear the smugness in his voice as he weaves his fingers through your hair and gazes down at you.

A smile spreads across your face as you look up at him.

“I think I have an idea for our next game.”

*****

If you're interested in more Sukuna x Reader (smut, slow burn, forced marriage) content, I'm much more active on Ao3: Beneath The Silk

[minhosimthings]

Dangerously

Symphony Smut Series Day 11: Charlie Puth's Dangerously

Lyric: I love you dangerously

Pairings: bf!Sunghoon × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (f recieving), overstimulation, p in v sex, semi public sex, unprotected sex (highly not recommended), angry sex, hard!dom!Sunghoon, sub!reader, orgasm denial, reader wears a dress, degradation.

A/N: woohoo day 11 second post of 2024 everyone! Please enjoy my urge to be degraded by Hoonie through his oneshot

THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST

Even though he didn't admit it, Sunghoon was a jealous man, whose jealousy couldn't ever be tested.

And so you had to be careful, whenever you went to one of his events, careful not to wear anything that would make other men stare and make Sunghoon give you the silent treatment for a week or so.

But unfortunately the fates are always against you and with a tiny piercing of their threads, you ended up here, in a massive ballroom, with your boyfriend talking to some people, completely ignoring you. Great reward for being the girlfriend of someone whose always present at buisness parties isn't it?

The dress you wore was simple, off shoulder, black, jewels decorating most of the seams, Sunghoon's present to you. But you hadn't expected all the dumb men there to keep staring at your collarbone. Your memories went back to eight grade, when you were discouraged from wearing anything which showed off your shoulders, lest the boys get distracted or some bullshit like that.

"Hoonie." You whined, clinging to your boyfriend's arm, as he took another sip of his pink champagne, taking not a single glance at you, "Hoon, oh fuck this, Park Sunghoon!" You more than screamed at him, which caused the other patrons at the bad to stare at you weirdly.

Sunghoon turned his head to look at you, with the coldest eyes, filled with icicles, as he smiled awkwardly to the bartender, and put his empty glass down, pulling you up with him as she stood. Adjusting his suit, Sunghoon began to walk, basically dragging you with him, you fastened to keep up with his pace.

"So fucking needy aren't you?" Sunghoon growled, pinning you against the wall, "You wanted more than one dick didn't ya you whore?"

Sunghoon's grip on your waist was tight, which made you feel the wetness in your panties.

“The party can wait.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you, this time more intensely than ever before and you hummed, burying your hand on his hair while the other stroked his chest.

He brushed his tongue against your lower lip and you opened your mouth to let him explore it, moaning lowly against his mouth.

He lowered his hands to the back of your thighs, not breaking the kiss, and lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and you yelped in his mouth.

"You needed me so bad didn't you?" Sunghoon teased, his breath hitting your skin.

He walked to the sink and placed you on the cold marble, his hands going under your shirt and experimenting with his touches on your bare skin.

You whimpered, shivers running through your whole body as his big hands roamed through your burning skin.

You pulled away, your forehead touching his, a whispered “Fuck” coming out of your lips. Your hands went to the hem of your dress and slowly pulled it over your head, leaving your torso bare besides your strapless bra.

Sunghoon drank you in, his adam apple bobbing when he swallowed and you felt embarrassed under his strong gaze, your hands slowly coming to wrap themselves around your stomach.

His hands went to your back and unclasped your bra, helping you take it off and toss it on the ground along with the rest of your clothes.

His hands came to the front and grabbed at both your breasts, squeezing them and making you moan into his mouth. His fingers teased at your hardened nipples and you arched into his touch.

His mouth started trailing down towards your neck, your collarbone, until he got to the valley of your breasts and looked up at you. Your mouth was open, eyes hazed and deep breaths were making your chest go up and down. What a sight.

He closed his mouth into one of your nipples and you whined, the warmth of his tongue circling around it making you grasp at his locks with a certain strength that made him groan around your skin. His fingers teased the other breast until he switched sides, feasting on your breasts.

He discarded your panties and ran his hands up your legs, his look never leaving your covered pussy. His hands stopped at your thighs as squeezed the flesh and you closed your legs instinctively.

“Hiding from me now?” He said, his tone deep and dominant making you swallow a whine as you spread your legs wider and he settled between them with a smirk.

He kissed your covered sex and you let out a low moan, his mouth traveled to your inner thighs, biting and kissing at the flesh, driving you insane.

“Such a desperate slut.” He said against your skin, grasping your panties and pulling them down. You gasped at the cold air hitting your dripping core and he groaned at the sight.

He smirked against you and put one hand over your hips to hold you still as he did wonders against your cunt. His tongue eating you out as if you were his last meal, ripping loud moans from your throat.

“Jesus, fuck, right there– Shit” A string of curses left your mouth and he grinned proudly, adding another finger to your torture, making you cry out, his name slipping out of your lips.

You felt the knot inside of you tighten, your pussy clenching around his fingers and Sunghoon knew you were about to cum.

"Hoon ah-ah no don't stop!" You all but screamed, as Sunghoon looked up at you, wiping his mouth clean. Edging, of course, was his brand. He loved seeing you on the brink of insanity just because of him.

"You think you get to cum after all that?" Sunghoon chuckled, placing both his hands on your hips, "As much I would love to fuck you right here, I want to see your cockdrunk face when I make you cum for me."

"There's a sofa there." You mumbled shyly, glancing towards the dark green sofa sitting idle in the corner of the bathroom.

You glance down at his still covered legs and crotch, the tent in his pants looked almost painful and you bit your lip. He noticed that and took you in his arms again, wrapping your legs around his hips, making your sensitive core grind against his trousers and you whined.

He gently placed you on the sofa kissing your lips hungrily and you led one of your hands down to his crotch, palming him through his trousers and he pulled away from your lips to groan, his forehead against yours.

Your mouth watered and your pussy clenched around nothing. He was bigger than he always seemed to be tonight.

He rubbed his cock up and down a couple times and lined it up with your entrance making you whine in anticipation. He slowly pushed into you and you pulled away to let your mouth hang open in a soundless moan.

“ah fuck, princess, didn't know you were such a cum slut for me.” He whisper-moaned against your ear and you hummed, your nails digging into his shoulders, definetly leaving marks to remind him for a couple days of this encounter.

“N-need more.” You said, your brows furrowing in desperation. You glanced down at his hand between your legs, your lower gut fluttering at the sight. He applied more pressure to the circles he was dancing over your swollen bud, the pleasure sending your head to lull backwards. You whimpered more, your legs beginning to feel like jello.

“You sound so pathetic.” Sunghoon spat, working his dick faster on your clit. You exhaled unevenly, your hand coming down on Sunghoon's bicep for stability.

You felt that familiar white heat beginning to ignite low in your belly, your cunt throbbing steadily. Your eyes squeezed shut. You were close— but Sunghoon knew that. He wasn’t going to let you come just yet. Without warning, Sunghoon halted his actions. You could’ve cried in that moment. Sunghoon grabbed your forearm, pushing you down onto the sofa.

“Hoon, please. I need to cum.” You whined, your head falling back into the soft material of the sofa. Sunghoon purses his lips at you, his hand running along the smooth skin of your leg, inching closer to where you needed his attention most.

Sunghoon did nothing but let out a cold laugh, at how pathetic you sounded for him.

Suddenly, Sunghoon began pounding into you. His hot breath fanned over your face as he rammed in and out of you, his length reached the deepest parts of you. You gasped, your hand reached up to grab his wrist that was busy squeezing your throat. Your eyes rolled back in your head and he slammed into you over and over. You were sure he was hitting you so deep that he was nicking your cervix. Just when you thought you couldn’t be more overwhelmed with pleasure, Sunghoon’s free hand snaked between your thighs, his thumb finding your clit, ghosting gentle circles over the sensitive nub. You squeaked out a moan, the pleasure overcoming your senses completely. Your legs began to shake from the stimulation, your lower belly muscles tensing from the overwhelming sensation. Your breath was shaking, the oxygen feeling as through it had completely left your lungs.

“F-fuck, where do you want me? Your mouth? Or should I fill you up?” Sunghoon grunted, his hand snaking around your front to firmly grab your breast, pinching your nipple between his fingertips.

You gasped, the stimulation for your nipple slipping you into the beginning of your orgasm. You didn’t answer him, the feeling of your impending climax completely taking over your body.

“Look at you cumming around my cock. Such a good fucking slut.” Sunghoon growled, his pace somehow quickening further. His hand reached up to your hair, grabbing a fistful of locks and pulling your head backwards. His other hand reached around to your throat as he bent down to kiss you from the intense angle, your orgasm taking over you entirely. Your toes began to curl beneath you, your pussy clamping around Sunghoon's cock that was twitching deep inside you. Your pussy clenched down around his length, hugging it perfectly.

“Fuck.” Sunghoon whimpered, his high hitting him like a train. Your spasming canal clamped down around him as he came in hot spurts, coating your walls deep inside of you. Your walls clenched around him, milking every ounce of cum from his length.

“You look so beautiful with my cum dripping out of you.” He spoke, running a hand up and down the back of your thigh. He pressed a kiss to your sore ass cheek from where he had smacked it.

“As much as I’d love to stay here and fuck you all night, I should go before everyone starts wondering where their favourite boy went.” Sunghoon said, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

"Get dressed sweetheart." Sunghoon picked up your clothes, and dusted them off, handing them to you, who was still dizzy from all the fucking.

"We'll have some more fun after we get home won't we?"

Taglist: @ramenoil @mynameisniya150 @demigodmahash + whoever wants to be tagged, send an ask my way!

[emmyrosee]

EMMY MY DEAREST MY BABY MY BELOVED <333

could I be a bit greedy and make another teeny tiny request?? you don’t have to feel obligated to do it AT ALL if you don’t want to!!! I’ve just been having an interesting time lately and you do comfort so well ☹️

genuinely all I’ve wanted all week is to be babied a bit/taken care of/pampered/absolutely smothered with soft gentle affection by atsumu when he starts to notice I’m getting overwhelmed or burnt out :(

I think he’d be good at catching it before it gets too out of control and keeping me sane. he wouldn’t let me lift a finger and he’d be so over the top with his physical affection cuz he knows I love that 😕

I feel so bad bc I feel like I’ve been bugging you a lot lately so pls pls pls don’t feel like you have to!!! I completely understand, there’s no pressure 🫶🏻🫶🏻

anon <3

YOU HAVENT BUGGED ME IN LIKE. FOUR MONTHS HUSH YOUR CUTE FACE- EVEN IF YOU DID SEND ME ANYTHING RECENTLY, YOURE NOT A BOTHER AND I LOVE YOU 😠❤️

he catches it pretty much immediately, with how you were clinging to him a little bit more than usual last night, brows seemingly forever pinched in the middle of your head and your fingers fisting the collar of his night shirt. he didn't say anything, but he definitely makes a note to keep an eye on it.

especially when, the next morning, you turn to your side to let him get ready for practice, and you hike the blankets higher and screw your eyes shut to try and tune him out.

he sees this, and crawls his body back into bed, mind now only focusing on taking care of you before you drown.

"peepee-poopoo," he whispers, hanging his head upside down to look at you, his blonde hair hanging shaggily. "where's my fighty baby this morning, hmm?"

you shrug and avoid his eyes, and pulls his head back to take this more seriously, "c'mere. come talk to me."

"you have to go-"

"i don't have to do a thing," he assures. he's quick to take out his phone and text coach that he's not going to make it, but he doesn't tell you that because the last thing you need is worrying about him missing a day to care for you.

which is one of his favorite things to do- but you fight him on it constantly. and he hopes today you're compliant enough to let him be here for you.

"do you want to talk about it?" he asks, gently rubbing his knuckles over your shoulder, and when you shake your head, he leans over your body again to kiss your cheek. "okay," he whispers, lingering for a minute before pulling back to head to the kitchen to make you breakfast.

breakfast, that was supposed to be in bed, but you worked up the courage to wade into the kitchen not long after him. "hey-" you begin, but you're cut off by the yelp from his lips and the dropping of an egg square to the floor, which you both look at blankly.

he starts to snicker, "whups."

"sorry."

he clicks his tongue, "shut up- come get a kiss," he says, stepping over the egg and pulling you into a hug, and his shoulders relax when you loosen in his arms. he sponges kisses to the crown of your head, "don't ever be sorry for something i did. it wasnt your fault."

you immediately tense back up, and atsumu knows his hit the nail on the head with it, and you burrow your face deeper into his chest and he tightens his grip on you to keep you grounded. "go back to bed," he soothes. "im with you today-"

"i dont want to be so far from you," you say, and he smiles as you dont put up an argument, dont scold him for staying, but his heart sinks slightly at the idea that youre so in your head all you can think about is him right now. "not today. can i stay?"

"id be bummed if you didn't," he says. he smirks and scoops you in his massive arms, relishing in the giggles you let you as he carries you and sets you on the counter, where he then feeds you slices of fruit while your eggs sear on the oven. he feeds you breakfast bite for bite, placing a straw in some water for you to drink before carrying you to the bathroom, where he tells you to brush your teeth.

you get shy, "can... do you think... maybe-"

"yeah," he smiles. "open up, babe."

he brushes your teeth, sure to get all the areas the dentist warns him about, before pulling back with a happy sigh and holding out his hand.

you quirk a brow, "what?"

"spit it into my hand."

"ew!" you laugh, and god it truly is his favorite sound, and you turn your head to spit the froth in the sink. "youre nasty."

"and you picked me first. too late to question your choice."

"yet i do every day."

"little fucker," he snickers, and when he makes a move to tickle you, you dart away, laughter ringing in the air as he barrels down after you, down the hall and into the bedroom, where he tackles you onto the bed. "i made you breakfast and this is the thanks i get?" he sighs, playfully punching your tummy, successfully dodging your hands to try and still his barely touching fists.

"l-learn from osamu," you manage, and his jaw slacks at your audacity while you giggle more in anticipation.

"you're annoying," he snorts, leaning down to nibble your ear and neck while his fingers spider up your sides, you shriek and shove his shoulders weakly. he stops and kisses the rest of the giggles from your lips, and he hums when you wrap your arms around his neck. when he pulls away, you mewl and tug him closer. he shushes you easily, "not going anywhere babydoll, i promise."

and he doesn't. he doesn't go anywhere, merely rolling you both onto your sides where he cradles you close, cupping the back of your head protectively as you burrow into him.

every now and then, he feels your shoulders tense up and quiver, as if you're fighting tears, but he doesn't make you say anything. not until you're ready to.

and when you are, he's there, his thumb gently stroking the back of your head while your tears soak into his shirt. he shushes you softly when your cries turn to sobs, or your breathing picks up too much for his comfort.

he reminds you he's not going anywhere, ever, he's got your back no matter what, and if it takes one day or fifteen, he's more than happy to stay in that bed, brush your teeth, feed you food, anything to keep you from drowning in your own anxieties and thoughts.

"thank you for telling me," he whispers every now and again. "im so proud of you."

"im so tired, atsumu... i don't know what to do anymore."

he screws his eyes shut as your voice cracks, "you're doing great, angel. keep doing what you're doing, because its your best, and its more than enough. and i'm sorry the world hasn't let you think it has been.

"you're more than enough. please keep going for me, okay?"

"okay..."

"I love you."

"I love you too atsu..."

[ureksbaby]

little things

summary : gojo loves the little moments with you

w.c : 934

type : short fic

gojo comes home to the smell of your cooking. it’s one of the few consistent things about the chaos of his life. while the smell may be different each day, it reminds him of his hunger; it brings a comfort in knowing that you were prepared for that.

he kicks off his shoes and hangs his jacket up on the hooks that you had insisted on putting on the wall by the door. they’re a little crooked, you had put them up yourself, and despite him telling you that the two of you have no need for them, he uses them every single day. whether that’s because you were right or because he chooses to humour you is constantly up for debate between the two of you.

he walks down the hallway to the kitchen, unsurprised to see you at the stove, sporting the ‘will cook for sex’ apron he had bought you for christmas one year. you had squealed and told him that he was so crude. still, you were wearing it every time he walked through the door. you tell him it’s only because you don’t want to get your clothes dirty and that you have no other aprons. he knows that you keep your plain, less ‘crude’ aprons at the back of the cupboard under the stairs for when your family visit.

he watches you for a few moments, as you quietly hum his favourite song. you’re no good of a singer, but he loves to hear it anyway.

“smells amazing my smoochums.” he sings from the doorway, making you jump. you swirl on your toes, turning to face him with a beaming smile on your face, completely unfazed at this point by the cringy nicknames he tries to give you,

“ah, satoru! you’re home.” you cheer, putting down your tongs and crossing the expansive kitchen to kiss him on the cheek. your lipgloss always sticks to his skin, but he waits for you to turn back to your cooking before wiping it off with the back of his hand. he follows you back to the stove, wrapping his arms around your waist as you cook.

he knows it’s probably no help having him cling to you while you’re trying to work, but you never complain,

“how was your day?” you ask him, stirring the broth in the pot with a practiced hand. he shrugs,

“it was fine: nothing too crazy. although… the first years ruined my shirt.” he tells you. you titter,

“i hope you didn’t ask for them to pay for it.” you muse and he squawks

“why shouldn’t they? they spilt coffee on my lovely new shirt!” he laments, pretending to cry into your shoulder. you reach around and pat his head pityingly

“we’ll try and get it dry-cleaned. and if that doesn’t work, i’ll buy you a new one.” you say sweetly. he laughs,

“and with what money are you going to do that with?” he asks teasingly. you flick his forehead

“yours, of course.” you joke, grin ever-present on your face, “but you’ll have the privilege of having a shirt picked out by me. it’ll be even better than the one that got coffee-d.”

he whines,

“are you insulting my fashion sense?”

you raise an eyebrow, gesturing to the apron you were wearing,

“yes.” you say simply, but he knows it’s in jest. removing his arms from your waist, you wave him away, “now go sit down! dinner’s almost ready.”

he does as he’s told, sitting down at the table in his usual spot, sat in front of the pink placemat that simply read ‘sugartits’. bringing over the food, you place his in front of him and sit down opposite him at your own ‘massive penis’ placemat. evidently, it’s meant to be the other way around, but you had set them out wrong one time, and the two of you had found it so funny that it became tradition.

“thanks, i’m starving.” gojo comments, before digging in. there was never any need to hesitate when it came to your cooking.

you tell him about your day over dinner, as you always do and he listens. you tell him about all the little things you got up to, acting out stories. you inadvertently slow down your eating as you talk and he slows his down too, despite how hungry he is, so that he can keep listening to you without you ever becoming aware that you had slowed down in the first place.

it’s only small talk, but it doesn’t seem so small to gojo. it was pretty big to him.

he loves you.

when you finish eating, and he finishes with you at, conveniently, the same time, he takes the dishes and begins to wash them up. you follow him, drying the plates and putting them away. you chat away to each other even then, about nothing important, just happy to hear the sound of the other’s voice.

he helps you put away one of the bowls on the top shelf; he unties your apron and hangs it up for you; he kisses the top of your head and thanks you for dinner. you put his favourite show on; you let him rest his head on your lap while he watches; he gets into bed before you and notices that you had arranged his pillows in exactly the way he likes.

they're little things, he knows. but when you climb into bed beside him, immediately curling up into his side, fitting perfectly against him - he realises just how much he loves all of these little things.

[mirchloe]

i think i'll also use this blog as just a place to put down some headcanons or ideas because i just finished reading the final chapter of higu meguri, and boy, oh, boy, and i mad at how it just gutted itself and need to distract myself. (don't read it. just don't. it takes everything that was interesting from the anime and makes it ten morbillion times worse.)

so, before i was shadowbanned, i had an ask from around summer '22 asking for some camper headcanons! and i had a massive google doc for it, but i never ended up finishing it because of life stuff, so to not let it go to waste, here's a handful of them below the cut! it goes through each camper who i had written up to at that point, and i haven't touched the doc since spring '23 because of, you guessed it, life stuff.

well, hope you guys enjoy because i need to get my mind off this atrocious ending lol. i'm copying and pasting which ones stand out to me, and this might get a bit long. for context, i do consider key aspects from campster as part my personal headcanons such as the ranking system, comments the kids make to each other or about themselves, listed likes/favorite media, etc! campster might be considered non-canon, but it holds a wealth of knowledge about the kids that the game can't touch on, like benny's love of musicals and elka's entire family history! (please excuse any spelling mistakes - this is already long enough lol)

Benny

Although he is a Tender Brain, Benny doesn’t mind being one of the weaker psychics, so long as he’s safe. While he is concerned that makes him a target, especially when Maloof gains power with Mikhail, he’s more content to hide behind others or immediately latch on to the person with power (even if it means struggling to canoe himself to Thorney Towers to beg the coach for a job offer and coming back in shame when it doesn’t happen). 

He focuses so heavily on Bobby because Bobby is like a bodyguard. Benny is able to bully and demean others for the fun of it because he has Bobby’s protection (despite Bobby’s exasperation with his flunky’s excessive behavior).

But he isn’t exactly friends with Bobby. He clings to Bobby because Bobby is, at one point, the person with the most power. Bobby is brash and bold, and Benny enjoys his cruelty because it provides him the opportunity to mock the weaker kids. He’s quick to express his annoyance when Bobby begins showing an interest in Chloe, a kid who provided a genuine interest in Bobby, even if based on a misconception. If Bobby is away, then he has to find someone new to suck up to stay safe, hence why he’s sitting between Maloof and Mikhail at the end - they made him an offer he couldn’t refuse when he found himself isolated.

He’s very much a scared kid. He hates being alone. I like to think he found comfort in the extravagant world of musical theater. Not because his parents are neglectful - his parents are perfectly fine and provide for him and love him - but because musicals show this beautiful side of the world. Dancing, singing, colorful costumes, romance, and drama, it’s the likes of which that draw him in. He tries to write his own scripts as a kid, refining them as he gets older.

Benny grows up to be the Media Relations Officer for the Psychonauts. Although still a pretty weak psychic, he’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’s very persuasive and able to get in a good word about psychics in various types of media such as television and movies - though, he does try to squeak his own script edits in order to get credited, and it’s worked quite a few times! He’s dined with celebrities and socialites, and he wouldn’t change it for the world. Champagne is on him! Now, listen to him talk for two hours about his latest idea for a musical. He’ll be in the director’s chair one day! You can’t leave, of course, it’s just plain courteous to stay!

Although his lyrics could use work as a kid, he becomes a very skilled pianist. He found it a great hobby when he was growing up, and his mom enrolled him in after-school lessons. He prefers upbeat, high-energy songs, but he can appreciate a good melancholy vibe.

He is THE biggest Gloria Von Gouton fan. If Raz had mentioned he met her, Benny would have caught him by the shoulders and seethed, “You met Ms. Von Gouton, and you didn’t think to mention that first?” Raz would’ve been dumbfounded but replied, “Uh, yeah? She threatened me with her trophy.” “And you deserved it!” Benny would scream. Instead of fleeing to join Oleander, he would have jumped in a canoe and row all the way over there to get her autograph AND tell her that her critics were WRONG.

Bobby (content warning for child abuse and child neglect)

Drywell is a total dump. It’s not even on a map. It’s an area where no one should really live, and yet, this is Bobby’s home. Cruel people, hardly sustainable, trash everywhere. He’s learned how to protect himself by trying to be the toughest in this environment, but in the end, he’s the one burned. There’s no one in Drywell who respects him, making him the perfect target for other bullies and horrible kids. He’s the circus freak here. It’s also an area plagued with social issues. 

He’s been in and out of foster care and his mother’s care. No one seems to want him around, and he grows more violent because he’s miserable, and if he’s miserable, everyone else should be. He wants to laugh at their pain and ignore his own. It’s a terrible coping skill, one which he relishes at camp.

Neglect from his mother has caused significant dental erosion, no haircuts, poor clothing, malnutrition, poor eating habits/not having enough to eat etc. Neglect from his foster families has left him jaded. There are too many people who came into his life with the name “Dad,” and almost just as many with the name “Mom,” but they’ve all since blurred together.

He was friends with Lili for a time when she first came to camp. He thought she was really cool, and he liked making her laugh, but they’d grown apart after an incident with Sasha’s training.

Chloe shows a genuine interest in him, even if it’s based on the misconception that his appearance stems from an alien heritage. He’s never had someone show such kindness to him, although it’s based on a firm agreement that she will be his friend so long as he stops hurting kids. This does work because he really begins to care for Chloe and manage his temper. In return, she grows fond of him because Bobby truly believes she’s an alien and listens to her. He even starts making up information about his life as an ambassador from Fath 703 because he sees how happy it makes her. They have fun together talking about space, working together in class, and he helps drawing her star maps because he’s a really good artist! (The artist headcanon stems from a discussion in the Psychowhatsis discord btw!)

He tends to cling to her. Trauma victims may latch onto someone who they believe is important in their lives. For Bobby, this is Chloe. Despite the short span of time they’ve known each other, she’s become an integral figure. He doesn’t want to lose her friendship, so he walks on eggshells around her. His jealousy and anger issues do exasperate Chloe, but he does try curbing them like when Raz punches him, he doesn’t punch back, sighs, and says he’ll kill Raz later. If she thinks he can be a better person, he really wants to try for her because she’s his best friend.

When he and Chloe are both Psychonauts, they go on missions together! Lots of fun times to be had there. They work closely on experiments with Bobby being more of an all-around agent and Chloe specializing in science, astrophysics, etc. Sometimes, he’s her guinea pig for whatever she’s cooking and occasionally lands in the ER because of it. She is so very sorry for messing up the cloning process with him a la The Fly, and he didn’t talk to her for days.

While he is also a solo field agent, mostly working undercover in the psychic underbelly of society, he really likes working with teens who were in the same boat as him. He knows exactly what it’s like to feel like it’s the end of the world, so he wants to use his position as a way to lift up those hopeless teens.

He noogied Chloe the millisecond he saw that she finally joined the intern program. An omg bestie moment.

He loves football. He’s the type who will stand in the doorway and watch if his team is losing. “Chloe, did the Raiders do it?” “Unfortunately, they didn’t make the touchdown.” (He screams.) “We have neighbors please stop yelling.” “Sorry.”

That video where the two guys are shocked when the girl takes off her fake eyelashes are him, Benny, and Chloe. “Do they hurt??” he asks, and she’s laughing.

oh fuck uhhh bobbyraz uhhhh he has internalized homophobia, but mostly deals with it, and when he's an adult, he finally comes out of the closet. too bad kitty is trying to shove him back in but raz has already grabbed his hand to welcome him to the bi boys club, and now they're doing the magnet post and kitty hates it because that's for gay girls only!!!!! (i'm /j but also /srs but also /j)

and MIRTALA that's her boo-boo right there. her metamour. they're both dating chloe, so they have metamour outings like sneaking into the movies lol.

Chloe

Specifically, Chloe believes she’s from Cygnus A, a radio galaxy. It’s why she’s using the coach’s radio in hopes of reaching her people. She refers to herself as a Cygnan and created her own language (believing the words, letters, etc, came from her people). She’s taught it to a few other people, but Bobby is the one who memorized everything. This also becomes a great secret way for them to communicate at camp for privacy or on missions. (When they argue, they sound like this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZdwSugMuO4) (also adding mirtala to this in general because chloetala realness etc etc)

Chloe’s parents really do love her. While they are sometimes hurt that Chloe rejects them, citing that they’re not her “real” parents, they try as much as they can to support her. They’re possibly the oldest parents out of the cadets’ families, but that certainly doesn’t lessen the love they have for her. They try to get her as many books, research materials, etc, as they can because they treasure seeing her smile and reaching her goals.

Eventually, when Chloe comes to terms that she isn’t an alien as a teen, she fears that she has hurt her parents by shunning them throughout her childhood. They reassure her this isn’t the case, and she’s able to form a much stronger bond with them.

Chloe’s built her identity around being an alien. While she is studious and interested in all aspects of culture, both human and alien, she finds the cracks forming in herself when she’s made to realize that she made up an elaborate lie for herself. She briefly tries then to be someone she’s not - a “human” without her various quirks or interests, but quickly realizes through the help of her friends that she’s always been Chloe no matter what, alien interests and all.

Relationships astound and fascinate her. She wants to examine them, which is why she loves reality tv. The trashier, the better! Girls yelling over a man who really isn’t shit? Fascinating! She’s crushed when Lili explains that reality tv isn’t a real emulation of reality.

She believed she’d be very tall as an adult because “my people are naturally taller than humans.” She’s average height, and she’s pissed. She will seek areas to be taller. Bobby’s shoulders. A chair. Blasting herself into space to be taller than all of humanity (though she’s also in a rocket because her dream has been and will always be to get to space!)

While she’s so delighted to be in space as an adult, being up there for long stretches of time can bum her out if she doesn’t have her friends. It’s still her dream to bring her friends up there! (And she sometimes is up there for too long that she forgets how to be human when she returns to orbit i.e. holding up objects in the air, letting them go, and forgetting gravity is a thing.)

Chloe is very confident and eager. She’ll talk someone’s ear off with her passion projects, but this is done on *her* time. Distractions or irritants earn her ire, and she’ll dismiss the person in a way that can be construed as rude. Although she doesn’t mean to be, her sometimes blunt personality can make her unlikeable among different kids.

But Lili appreciates this fact in her. Chloe doesn’t try to hide information or secrets. She isn’t one to let bygones be bygones. She’ll seek out the answer, move forward with her research, or just happily pursue her current interest like trying out different things such as painting nails or learning about the “human make-up industry that seems to ensnare girls as young as ten to cover their faces with colorful products!” (This is a nod to sincerelymendacious’ fic Painting Stars on Your Thumb! It’s an excellent Lili & Chloe piece.)

She’s a little engineer! I like to think she’s made a ton of machines at home. Her parents are super impressed! She’s been building, crafting, and making blueprints as soon as she could. Her room is covered wall to wall with her star maps and invention ideas, and her shelves are filled with (safe) tools and (also safe) mechanisms she’s made under her parents’ supervision. She’s on the neighborhood watch list because sometimes when she goes out and tests them, things do not go to plan, and she miiight have to apologize for sending a bottle rocket into Mrs. Thompson’s window (again).

But when she’s too engrossed in her work, she tends to lose track of time. It’s more of a prominent issue when she’s an adult. She’ll develop tunnel vision when focusing too heavily on a project, mission, etc. She might go a little…stir crazy. One time, she lost track of time so badly that two days had gone by without a wink of sleep, and when Milka pointed it out, she fell asleep on the spot in the Yamcha death pose.

On a sillier note, this makes her a bit of an energy drink guzzler. Bobby has come across her in a Mountain Dew haze while making what can only be described as a pseudo-time-splitter atom-crasher, and she crashed five seconds after offering to let him try it. While she once used a spray bottle to make him stop bullying kids, it was his turn to use it on her.

https://twitter.com/KibaSniper/status/1479028936105361408 ngl i just really like this thread i wrote about the negative aspects she causes with her friendship with bobby.

Chops

For starters, he and Lili used to be an item! Last year (one year before the events of PN1), they dated but decided to stay as friends. They’re really firm in that regard, and they’re also pen pals. He still flirts with her a little, but it’s in good nature. Lili thinks he’s fun and charming, and he cracks great jokes! (Again, I recommend the works of sincerelymendacious and the art of the-laughing-lunatic on dA, who has other nice PN artwork!)

He has a talent for psychic boxing, but he is strictly a pacifist. He isn’t afraid of arguing, and he hates when someone (like Elka) tries to talk down to him, but physically fighting isn’t for him. Chops’ talent for psychic boxing comes from his own physicality and his psychic specialty of PSI punches improving to where he can attack with a flurry of PSI punches while standing still. Yes, just like in JJBA. He thinks he looks so cool doing it.

He loves hockey! He’s a super-talented goalie. Nothing gets by him! If he has to get physical, it’s in the hockey rink! He loves ice skating, too. He even taught JT how to do it during the winter session at Whispering Rock.

His parents are divorced, and he lives with his father. His parents have a good friendship and joint custody. Chops would say they’re probably closer that way, too, since they split really amicably. (Just fell out of love, nothing bad!) He has a few older siblings and gets along really well with them. He’s the baby of the bunch tho! (He also gets along well with his step-parents.)

Music is also one of his many passions. When he sets his mind on learning something, he focuses on it. Playing his acoustic is so calming to him, especially when he’s with JT. The quieter, calmer moments are what he strives for when he can listen and enjoy the time with his friend and their song.

At the same time, he really does not like Phoebe and Quentin’s music. He claims it has no rhythm. This has led to a little bit of a playful, non-harmful rivalry with Quentin. He did try to play with the Levitators, but Phoebe had a flare-up when JT skipped again, so he decided to ditch the band when she almost ignited him. This headcanon comes from the PN strategy guide which states twice the Whispering Rockers have bad music lol.

His negative traits are issues of jealousy brought on by feeling ignored or ghosted. He isn’t one to hate someone - only when they’ve shown their nasty colors. When Elka dragged him aside and flatly told him that he couldn’t be friends with JT, it was too much for him, and he let his anger show quietly. He doesn’t raise his voice (but he will online!) because he doesn’t like arguing, but he will make his point known.

In general, he loves sports! He loves watching big games, especially hockey. His dad made sure he was athletic - a trait he shares with Mikhail! If only Mikhail would stop asking him to wrestle, they’d get along way better. He does like chilling while Mikhail wrestles bears. He provides great background music (or backup if Mikhail gets overwhelmed with his boxing skills!)

Separately, he and his dad go on a ton of hikes together. His dad works as an advisor for college teams, but he always prioritizes his son. Through that, he was able to meet a few hockey idols! Alternatively, his mom is a conservationist. She’s usually on the move, so while she doesn’t see him as often as she’d like, she loves her son so much! She always goes to his hockey games!

She was also the one who encouraged him to pick up the guitar! She’d play for him when he was little, and he picked it up so easily. When they’re together, they have little jam sessions.

As for his future, I like to imagine he tried the intern program and decided it wasn’t for him. It’s a lot of cerebral work, and he decided the life of a Psychonaut wasn’t in him, but he honed his skills to a near-professional level. He wants a creative path for adulthood, so his teenage years are spent kind of like how he spent his youth, just with more dating and mingling - maybe even reconnecting with Lili?

Clem (content warning for child abuse)

Clem’s relationship with both of his parents is incredibly strained. While his father is much crueler, preferring insults whenever Clem messes up, his mother will passively observe, not stepping in unless she needs something from her husband. Sometimes, she regards Clem negatively if her husband is stressing her. Because of their distance, Clem tends to give everyone a wide berth and stays secretive for his own protection. His mother is a victim, too, but she’s been verbally beaten down by her husband, and divorce is not an option.

He masks his true emotions under layers of false happiness. While he is kind - to a degree - his mask sometimes slips. He is easily annoyed by bullies or weaker kids. His smile will drop, and he’ll remark rather bitingly, especially toward those who don’t physically harm him such as Kitty extracting arrowheads or Maloof trying to strongarm him into accepting his protection services.

Like Bobby and Crystal, he has insomnia. For him, his thoughts keep him awake at night. He’ll think himself into circles until he can’t get out of them or he’s so exhausted, his brain mercifully shuts off.

But he isn’t always doom and gloom. He does want to try to make friends, and he does have a few good companions. He does like listening to JT and Chops play their music, preferring it over the music from Phoebe and Quentin. It’s something Chops certainly agrees with! Clem wishes he could learn harmonica but can’t because of his teeth.

I think what people forget about Clem is that he is very analytical. Unlike Crystal, he sees the world as half-empty. Although coping with humor and sarcasm, if his buttons are pushed too far, he will say the intentions of the other person in rather sharp detail. An incident that I wanted to explore was Bobby attempting to apologize for his previous bullying when they’re older, which Clem initially takes as another chance of bullying. To that, he bluntly surmises that Bobby is trying to find some absolution from “the kid you used to kick when he was down,” a way to soothe other the guilt in his mind, and Clem will not grant it. He is bitter. He isn’t one to forgive as easily as many would believe when he’s sixteen and digging himself into a deeper isolated hole.

But back to how he is as a kid! As the oldest Tender Brain, his psychic abilities are stunted due to the negativity he endures at home. When he was younger, he explored them in secret, but his father was horrified to find out he was psychic. He didn’t want a damn psychic for a kid, and he makes that fact known. His mother is too worn down to defend him, and Clem understands why. He’s wise for his age, and it startles her when he says something that sounds so grown up. Clem has learned to keep those thoughts to himself to not upset her.

He’s also decently athletic. He can run fast, and if he had control over his levitation ball, he’d probably win Milla’s race all the time. Clem’s energy is surprising despite his insomnia, but it’s because he’s so used to staying up late.

He was pretty surprised when Maloof said all jocks will pay. He decided to stay far, far away from him when he teamed up with Mikhail because hoo boy! He doesn’t want to touch that can of worms! Good thing he’s pretty good at hiding because Maloof remembered how Clem said he was a wuss.

His bond with Crystal is incredibly close, bordering on codependent. From afar, they can sense what the other is feeling. He can tell when her mother is being awful to her. But his telepathy isn’t as skilled, so he can’t reach out to her, and sometimes, there are days when he isn’t allowed to use the phone. He treasures the days they’re at camp and later the intern program because they can be there for each other…even if his mental health declines at the intern program, too. His pessimism, blunt outlook, and his inability to forgive as easily as Crystal begins wearing heavily on both of them. I can see it leading to an argument and mutual exasperation about how the other is handling it. Crystal still tries so hard to please, and he isn’t one for platitudes as a teenager.

For him, overcoming his depression and passive suicidal ideation is a big deal. They’ve been a part of his identity for years. A simple trip into his mind to clean up mental cobwebs isn’t it. It’s months of trying to cope or even finally cry, about the lot in life he had been given. There are people to blame, and he deals with his spite, but for Clem, he really, really just wants to live happily deep down.

Crystal (cw for child abuse)

Regarding her insomnia, her anxiety keeps her awake. She worries about social situations or what tomorrow will bring. She wants to make friends but holds herself back when she’s alone thinking she had presented herself in a way that let herself be mocked like not getting she was being tricked by Bobby.

She’s a people pleaser. She wants to make everyone happy! Because if others are happy, she’s happy, too! It makes her feel connected. Being a member of a group provides a sense of self that she doesn’t get home.

She lives with her mother, older sister, and two younger brothers in a cramped apartment located in a brick building. There is no father. Her mother fawns over her brothers. Her sister often fights with her mother. It’s a chaotic environment with her mother enforcing strict regulations, which her sister tries to break, and her sister also takes her frustration out on Crystal.

In return, Crystal tries to be on her A game at home! All with a smile! (An incredibly strained smile,) She does her homework on time. She does her chores, sometimes without being asked. She keeps out of her mother’s way when she’s ranting and stays in her room, knowing when it’s too much. She just wishes they would stop fighting, just wishes she was anywhere else in the world.

During a moment of high stress, she PSI blasted the couch, her first realization that she is psychic. Her mother is stunned, and her sister remarks she’s like their father (who her mother and sister don’t speak of). Crystal was promptly shipped off to camp at age 8.

Coming off that was one of her happiest memories. She met Clem that summer, bonding with him after a few attempts to coax a kinder response. Clem was surprised by her sincerity, considering he hardly knows anyone genuine at home. They bond over their desire to spread cheer and goodwill, something they lack in their lives. She makes up the routines while he writes the cheers!

She’s very self-critical, but that’s obvious. It stems again from her home life but also because she desperately wants friends. She wants to be included and treated well by her peers. This doesn’t go well either at camp, but to a much worse extent at school. She’s kept at arm's length by popular girls who seek to have her around for a laugh. While she does have friends, she is always putting their needs ahead of her own. Because of that, she fears losing them and cries when she perceives any social faux pas or inadvertently hurting anyone. With emotions in flux, crying is how she copes to release that energy that has been building.

At the same time, she’s very forgiving to a fault. She forgives her bullies time and time again because at least she’ll be close to them again, right? She just has to adjust herself to suit their needs - even if they continue taking advantage of her. This is something that follows her through her teenage years until she learns to make a stand for herself.

To cope with that, I like to imagine she takes to working out. She finds that strengthening her body really does help her mind. It lets her work through her struggles by moving her body, just as cheerleading once did. When she’s active, she’s happy, and through it, she starts to really like herself but also creates boundaries by asserting herself. Getting out in the sunshine is also a way she helps Clem with his bad moods.

She beat Mikhail in arm wrestling at camp, and it confounds him well into adulthood because It Keeps Happening. She keeps winning. The Common Crystal W.

She has a lot of good friends when she’s in her older teens! Chops, Phoebe, Quentin, JT, Elka, and Franke especially! (I see her friendship with Clem on the rocks, but they *do* become good friends again since they’re both at a crossroads in life, and she wants to help him get some good coping skills!)

Crystal/Lili also real. I think Crystal develops a one-sided crush on Lili during her time at camp. She thinks Lili is so cool! She stands up to the bullies with such confidence! She wishes she could be like Lili. Lili can tell Crystal is going through heavy stuff, so she allows herself to be an open source of comfort for Crystal, knowing what it’s like to feel alone. Lili teaches Crystal herbaphony, too.

Dogen

Oh, Dogen, poor Dogen. He doesn’t like to be seen as someone to be pitied. He doesn’t like it when people eye him strangely for his hat or when he mentions blowing up heads. He tries to ignore them when it happens because when he stands up and the situation escalates, heads start to roll.

Puppies and kitties are his favorite. They’re too cute! I like to think his parents kept their end of the deal and got him an adorable cat when he returned from camp. They also had choice words for HQ when Dogen explained to them Oleander’s plot and how he was kidnapped. His mother was NOT happy!!

He’s been friends with Lili since he was really young. Truman and Compton were worried about any trouble, but Lili got along very well with him. She could tell he was a nervous kid, a bit withdrawn, too, so they took things slow in their conversations. Dogen was able to open up to her without feeling like he was being mocked, even though he did believe he was at first. Lili is a very comforting presence in his life, and he’d defend her from anyone saying she’s mean.

But regarding closeness, in addition to Lili, his first friend who makes on his own accord is Raz. Raz isn’t afraid of him, which surprises him. Most of the other camp kids are nice to him, and Quentin is definitely down to do the scavenger hunt together, Raz makes an effort to get to him. For Dogen, it’s a very nice feeling to be wanted, to be acknowledged, not for the fright that he instills.

While Raz and Lili binge True Psychic Tales, he doesn’t care much for them. Sam already told him they’re a bunch of misinformed hoo-hah, so he can’t find it in him to like them. But he *does* like being read to, so when they’re doing their dramatic readings, he’s all ears.

As an adult, he has more control over his emotional outbursts because he’s more aware of what harm he can cause if that anger builds and releases. He’s always wearing a handsome hat, too! Gets the style from gramps (and fashion advice from Elka).

He can nap in the weirdest places. You can find him curled up in a chair in his office or on a nice sofa, but there’s also the off chance he’ll be in a tree among the squirrels. You might even locate him in a cave at camp, its ambiance dark, and you might even trip over him and fall face first in a puddle. Raz knows he has.

Absolutely a sucker for being told stories. Loves Milla’s puppet shows. Love when his sister tells him fairy tales that definitely stray from the original source. He grows up to be a pretty good storyteller in his own right and exchanges stories with Vernon, who I’ll discuss in a bit! (note - i never finished vernon's section. sorry vernon.)

He needed braces since he was a thumb-sucker. He hated wearing them. Sensory nightmare!!

Elka

Elka is the tallest girl when she’s an adult, a headcanon I credit to basic-braining, which made me baffled and laugh the moment I heard about it. She’s putting her hand in the middle, and Clem, Bobby, and Mikhail are putting their hands over hers. Tall Psychics Solidarity. (Bobby and Mikhail are trying so so so sooo hard to claw each other tho, and it doesn’t matter how old they are because they are trying to fucking GET each other!!!!)

She rarely has a bad hair day. She makes sure her hair is always styled to how she wants it, even if she’s feeling lethargic or miserable. But if her hair is bad, then the mental health demons won.

Elka’s backstory was fleshed out in that leaked PN document a few years back, and I subscribe to it. Mabel loves it when Elka starts telling her the awful things that will happen to others. She lives off it. When Elka is much younger, she doesn’t fully get the impact of her words, like, “Their dog will die tomorrow” or “Mrs. Burkowitz will learn she has cancer in three months from now.” But her mother will drum her fingers together and smile in a way that makes Elka think it’s okay to say, and her mother does love her dear Elka so much. They’re like twins in how she dresses Elka.

Barney is wary of his wife’s behavior when Elka gets closer to her canon age. He knows firsthand the exhaustion and depression foresight causes. It wears him down. Only seeing horrible tragedies has left him sullen, a bit cynical, but he makes an effort to appear happy for Elka. Sometimes, it slips, but he loves his daughter tremendously and tries to prepare her for the depths of anguish that will follow when a Doom sees only sorrow.

Her parents are working-class people. Elka’s mom has had a few jobs here and there, and Barney is one of those office worker types. Nothing really interesting happens in their lives except when a vision occurs, and Elka’s foresight is seemingly much stronger than her father’s was when he was a child. This elates her mother, who sees Elka’s visions as gossip and ways to bond with her (and as a way to brighten up her own life), while Barney is fearful of how worse Elka’s visions will get. Mabel is concerned, too, especially when Elka starts feeling the physical attributes (weariness/exhaustion, needing to rest right away, collapsing, falling unconscious, or sitting in a fit of shock), so she does put Elka’s needs above her own when it happens.

But it all culminates to a point when Elka reveals one of them will have an affair. She likes her secrets, but this was too extreme to not say. And when her mother goaded her for it as usual, the color drained from her face when she heard it. Barney was just as shocked, sweating, and they reacted exactly as Elka expected.

This incident is the primary reason why she is obsessed with the idea of her life with Nils. Mabel encouraged her pursuit of Nils when she saw a rare vision of herself being “happy” with him. Although Barney thought it was another omen, Mabel wanted to believe it was nice that Elka saw something fortunate, and Elka clung to it, believing her future is with Nils. Fleeting happiness can be forever. She knows her parents are destined to divorce, but she doesn’t have to repeat their misery.

They divorce when Elka returns from camp. As expected, it comes true. She lives with Mabel and has visitations with Barney. Subsequently, her visions continue to worsen, feeling their effects on a far more physical level that leaves her with, at times, chronic pain and exhaustion. She takes medication to cope with the headaches, ailments, and psychic fatigue, but her prescriptions increase until she’s an adult when her abilities stabilize. Still, she needs them and always will.

Dogen has a cat. Elka has a cat. They bring their cats together when they go on brunch.

oh fuck uhhh elka/kitty/franke uhhhhh they're yuri baby!!!!!!!! i think she still hates kitty's toxic slutch hair dye jobs but puts on a brave face when franke thinks it looks nice.

She likes to go hat shopping with him! He picks out the best ones! “Excuse me, Dogen asked for the discount,” she says, and she will make problems for the retail employee.

Elton

Definitely has an anxiety disorder. He’s skittish to a fault as a kid, but through Milka, he gains a lot of confidence. His connection with her strengthens him, and he’s able to stand up for himself a lot easier through his teen and adult years.

Although anxious, he can be quite blunt. If he doesn’t like something, he’s says it in a way that clearly conveys his annoyance. He might avoid conflict, but he will complain if something keeps agitating him. It does border on passive-aggressive if it really bothers him.

He doesn’t have many memories of his father. He died when Elton was around five, so the few memories are the ones he cherishes. In particular, he remembers that his father gifted him his treasured hat for his fifth birthday. His father took it off his own head and placed it gently on Elton, who never took it off because it smells like the sea he loves and fears.

When his father died, and he learned he drowned at sea, he quickly developed a fear of drowning and hydrophobia. He loves the sea and the creatures within, and he loves calm, lapping waves on the shore. But he definitely doesn’t want to end up like his father, his body never recovered, more likely than not having turned to fish paste.

It’s not a fandom secret anymore that he lives in a brothel. The other women working alongside his mother are incredibly kind to Elton. They treat him with little gifts and trinkets, and through one of them, he learned how to play the accordion. His mother does love it when Elton plays for the girls, clapping along with them while Elton beams. One of the memories he has with his father also was a musical one, in which is father sang a sea shanty to go along with his son’s melody. He remembers his mother was very happy, too.

Because of his circumstances, he really does try to treat girls with respect. He knows his father loved and respected his mom, so the girl he likes deserves that, too. He first fell in love with Lili because of her rebellious, cool attitude, but he never got to know what was under the surface. He tried, but he came off as off-putting. He did her homework, sure, but there wasn’t much of a connection between them. She didn’t want to hang out with him because Elton was awkward, and without meaning to be, kind of clingy. He tried inserting himself in her life way too often without realizing Lili needed her time alone. He took her silent treatment pretty hard, blaming himself for not being good enough and worrying that he hurt her feelings constantly.

The girls cabin is up in arms whenever Elton tried fawning over Lili. Kitty, Franke, and Elka always had a good laugh at Lili and Elton’s expense when he tried “wooing” her. Franke will not let him live down the sexy plant article.

But then there’s Milka! He can’t believe he “reeled in a catch” like her! He was lost at sea, and now he’s found in her arms! Elton is incredibly dramatic about Milka. He wants her to know that she’s the apple of his eye, the brightest star in the sky, the most purple of prose! While they do kiss (a lot), he loves being around her in general. Gossiping with fish, exploring for scavenger hunt items, and even learning invisibility from her, Milka is the best thing to ever happened to him, he’ll say!

He argues with Chloe over whether sea creatures or aliens are better to explore. He insists the sea is better because there’s so much unexplored while humans will never breach alien life. Milka had to physically restrain Chloe. Elton is also not sad that Chloe kicked him out of the spaceship because he never wanted to go.

they never fucking break up. they are at each other's hips all the times as adults. what's weird is that it's not even unhealthy.

Franke

Not initially a bully! She was a shy, clumsy kid before Kitty took an interest in her. Kitty loved her full hair and wanted to help mold her into being someone better than the teased girl wearing pediatric shoes. She might not be the best at insults, but her relationship with Kitty is extremely genuine. She might no longer be shy, but she’s definitely clumsy in both movement and insults.

Based on the cut concept of certain kids roaming around the sanctuary after re-braining, Franke’s identity is currently based on Kitty’s perceptions. She feels lost without Kitty. She’s way different outside of camp, being considerably nicer and less antagonistic but still a bit mean. But at Whispering Rock, she revolves around Kitty, so when Kitty is brainless, she’s in a panic, crying, and really hoping Benny will go the hell away. She is sort of lost without Kitty and unsure of her place in Whispering Rock, so she holds onto Kitty, and Kitty will hold her back because Kitty does cares about her. It is something I wish was kept in the final game since it would’ve shown a really nice difference in how they view their relationship. (Kitty was intended to kind of poke brainless!Franke and meander all, ‘Okay, girlfriend, wake up…’ while Franke was really sad about it.)

While Kitty is a makeup expert, Franke is great with hair! She loves doing all sorts of crazy things to it with Kitty, and Kitty likes styling Franke. Low pigtails, a deep side part, or even a mohawk just for fun!

She lets Kitty do her makeup. She has to wake up early, but it’s worth it to have Kitty’s attention.

I’m not sure if I see Franke as a Psychonaut. I think she’d much prefer a job where she can be creative. I like the idea of a hairstylist for Franke’s occupation. Going to college for a degree in cosmetology, working in the city, going steady with Crystal, etc. She also hangs out a lot with Chops, and they double as wingmen for each other!

And speaking of Chops, he taught her how to play bass! It gets the girls’ attention at house parties. Anyway, here’s Lesbian Wanderwall.

As for her future relationship with Kitty, I do like thinking they end up together. I also like thinking of how they’d stay in contact. If they stay together over the years, Kitty is definitely having her dad fly Franke out for parties and homecomings, etc. Franke and Kitty just want to spend as much time as they can together! And also go shopping and get their nails done.

“You’re telling me a shrimp fried this rice???” she shouts. (Kitty is fumbling for the engagement ring at the restaurant - Elka beats her to it and wins Franke’s hand)

okay i had a bunch of sadder franke headcanons that i don't like anymore so sorry her section is shorter, so here's a few ones off the cuff

she has two gay dads, and she's the number one weed smoker when she's an adult. good for her. good for her. i do think she gets other girlfriends, like if she and kitty are on a break, or they have period where they can't be in contact

the open marriage is very important to her! franke is the one kitty trusts the most, which really touches her. if they ever actually get 'married,' it's mostly because kitty wants a big celebration and throw a party to show off franke, and franke is just awww baaaabe!!!!

JT

I mean this in the kindest way possible, but he’s a doormat of a kid. He prefers to avoid conflict, or if he’s in the thick of it, find the most peaceful solution possible. This, however, leads him to avoid his problems if he can’t find an immediate answer, which is what he did when he was dating Elka. It was better to appease her or hide rather than tell Elka he didn’t want to be in a relationship.

His parents are hardworking cowpokes. They instilled a deep meaning to that term when he was young, so he’s constantly working on the farm at home. He can lasso and hogtie the best farm animals. Handling animals is much easier than people.

He learned he was psychic at a very young age when he was PSI blasting in his crib while throwing a fit. His psychic powers come from his grandmother, who was an outlaw before her untimely death. Before she passed, however, she taught JT how to control his PSI blasts and help curb his temper with target practice on hay, which when JT does at camp, makes him feel closer to Granny Hoofburger.

His ten gallon hat is a family heirloom passed down from Hoofburger family head to their eldest child. JT’s father gvae it to him right before he started camp, tho it was a bit too big for him.

Speaking of camp, he started attending at age 7 before Chops, who came a year after. He mostly kept to himself, rather soft-spoken, which made him a bullying target for Bobby. He did PSI blast him near his feet as a warning shot, so Bobby steered clear of him.

When Chops came, they connected pretty casually. It was nice to connect with him through music, and soon enough, they were fast friends! They opened up new worlds to each other (JT taught him how to lasso a pig, and Chops spent a whole day (accidentally) hitting him with hockey pucks to teach him how to be a better goalie, among other activities).

Chops stays over with JT when it’s time to depart for camp. His mom or dad ships him down to the Hoofburgers a few days in advance, so JT and him have time to horseback ride and herd caddle before it’s time to shove off! JT really treasures these personal moments with his best friend.

He’s polite and kind to a fault, tho excessive compliments will annoy him. If he sees someone sad, it tugs at his heartstrings, and he has to help. When he saw Elka weeping on the bus ride to camp, he sat next to her and offered a friendly ear. His ear was promptly talked off by Elka lamenting her woes, and in the middle of it all, JT was somehow her boyfriend by the end of it.

Like a few other kids, JT was a curious subject in the eyes of Sasha. But he declined on account of the rumors. He saw the results of Bobby’s experience within the walls of the GPC, and he doesn’t want it to happen to him. Sasha tries a few times to convince him, viewing his PSI blast skill particularly keen due to JT being a nonviolent individual, but he ends up shrugging his shoulders. Just another kid wary of him. He’ll try when JT is older and wisened up to the rumors, but he’ll still look after him.

And indeed it happens! When JT goes through the intern program, his mentor is Sasha. JT is flatly smiling at Hollis, and she’s not granting him a mentor swap. But the training is actually far different from he expected - instead of child experimentation, it’s further control over his blasting abilities. And poking around in JT’s mental world via the Brain Tumbler because of course Sasha will do that. It’s invaluable research while also helping JT sort through some mental cobwebs and self-confidence and conflict resolution issues!

Although I see him struggling with internalized homophobia through his youth and teenage years, I think he’d come around to accepting his sexuality after seeing how normalized it is at the Motherlobe. 

As for his future, I think a Psychonaut or a settled down cowpoke works for him. While the Psychonauts have experience in therapeutic fields, JT is strictly a field agent. In particular, he uses his cowboy skills to wrangle entities that don’t belong in minds, so he’s commonly placed on teams. But the life of a cowboy with Chops is also fun to imagine, especially with how down-to-earth he is.

His mother taught him how to play the harmonica! It was passed down to her by her mother, and she wanted to teach it to JT the moment he started babbling as a baby. There’s a cute video she keeps showing his friends about tiny tyke JT playing the harmonica (poorly and happily) on his own! He buries his face in his hat when his friends start going “Awww!”

He sometimes spots Milka in the strangest places. It’s surprising, and he’s not sure if it’s a trick of the light. But they live in the same state, and occasionally, he’ll come across her in different towns. There are times when she looks beat, and he tries to be as compassionate as he can since Milka’s been through some hard stuff. (When she had her seizure in the lodge just before canon, it terrified him to bits.) If it’s a friend to just relax with at the local park or supermarket or whatever, he’s fine with looking strange talking to no one there.

He and Milka take care of stray cats when she’s over! Milka has a natural affinity for them, and it rubs off on JT.

Kitty

Kitty is the daughter of a man kicked out of the Navy, who subsequently made it big as a defense lawyer in high-stakes cases. But before his time in the courtroom, she was a Navy brat living from base to base across the world. This was a detriment to her social life as she couldn’t make long-lasting friends nor understand the depths of a solid, strong friendship or relationship.

But the friends (and partners) she made were good during the periods of time when she lived in those different places. She always wanted to be the star of the show, and she was influenced by her father, who rose through the ranks of the Navy (before getting the axe). She saw how he acted, taking charge and ensuring he knew information on others, and took that to heart, so she emulated him to always stay the most stunning, most powerful girl in the room.

Her father showers her with gifts. Expensive jewelry, clothing, perfumes, accessories, limited editions, one of a kind products. You name it; he’s gotten it for his darling daughter. She really is the apple of his eye when he pays attention to her and not his work ventures.

Because of Kitty constantly moving as a kid, her father would have various girlfriends. These relationships weren’t anything special, and the women would try to appeal to Kitty with the same affection her father shows. Kitty just takes their “offerings” and smiles charmingly and promises to chip in with a nice word about the current girl to her father. She never does. Relationships are a lot of work, and she needs to stay on top.

She learned she was psychic purely by accident. She had mistakenly hypnotized a bunch of susceptible kids in her class into doing her bidding when she was seven without realizing it. Her father is also psychic but not as powerful as Kitty. So, when he hears about Whispering Rock, he ships her off to help Kitty control her powers. She, like Bobby, attends Whispering Rock in its opening years five years before canon.

She and Bobby loathe each other. They both hail from vastly different worlds. Kitty knows he’s violent, even as a seven-year-old, so she tries to manipulate him only when necessary. Bobby is quick to her game as they grow up, and his mental walls are far too strong for her to penetrate. However, his expressions show so freely on his face, and she’s already made more friends with the Tender Brains and Psychic Scouts while he has no one in his corner, so he isn’t a threat.

But her first genuine friend came in the form of none other than Lili Zanotto two years later (at this point, Kitty is nine). Lili was far different from the other girls. She was fun and dynamic and bonus points for being the daughter of the Grand Head. Kitty knew she wanted Lili in her court, and she made quick work trying to befriend her…only to see she had already made friends with Bobby. This would start a tumultuous back and forth between Kitty and Bobby over Lili over the summer (who wasn’t having it), and by the end of the summer, after an incident in Sasha’s lab, Lili and Bobby were no longer friends much to Kitty’s delight.

She swooped in and took Lili under her wing after that incident, and she grew to truly care for Lili. She even learned a little herbaphony from Lili. They’d call even after camp, and Kitty would tell her dad to buy her a plane ticket to visit Lili in the west coast from whatever Navy base she was staying at. It was a close, tight friendship…until it wasn’t.

Lili is not a bully. She hates seeing other kids hurt, even if she acts aloof. She didn’t like it when Bobby was picking on kids, and she hates it when Kitty picks on kids. It’s that sense of self-righteousness that earned Kitty’s ire after some time, and realizing she was not making much leeway with Lili and that their friendship had stalled, she cut Lili out suddenly. She stopped talking to her, stopped answering the phone, etc. She dropped Lili like a fly. It hurt Lili, she knows it did, but she’s replaceable.

But the girl who came into Kitty’s life could never be replaceable. Franke was a shy, sweet girl when she came to camp at age nine. Kitty was so charmed by her that she had to take her under her wing just like she did for Lili, but Franke was much more accepting of Kitty. Kitty could tell Franke wanted to impress her, and that earnest behavior, coupled with her genuine kindness and affection, started having Kitty doubt her own ways. She really wanted to make her relationship with Franke work because she saw just how much Franke adored her, and in return, Kitty adored her as well. (Her face is also perfect for kissing, a compliment that would always make Franke blush!)

Lili (this one is long lol)

Child of a recent divorce!! Abandonment issues!! Self-worth issues!! Wants to make friends but feels distanced!! She’s got it all!!

On a serious note, Lili is a fascinating kid. In the first game, we see as far more aloof than she really is. She only starts opening up because Raz has brought a spark back to her life. From the Li-Po doc, there was a lot of pressure seemingly on her to follow in the footsteps of her father, but she would rather garden or talk with the plants. There’s an expectation of greatness placed on Lili because of her lineage, and it’s a deep issue for her. Her name follows her. She’s the daughter of the Grand Head, the grand-neice of a founding member of the Psychonauts. It’s pressure on her to be seen as perfect from certain people like those counselors and teachers at her school or even other agents.

But Lili just wants to be herself. When her father campaigned for the position of Grand Head, Lili was in the limelight. Her family was scrutinized. She was scrutinized. I’d say she was around five, so her earliest memories are feelings of uncertainty and confusion and a little resentment toward these strangers coming after her father and the great-uncle she never knew but kept believing was truly great. It made the Psychonauts feel far more political than it really was because of that mounting pressure faced by her father until he won the election.

As for Lili, she wants to be herself. She doesn’t want to live in her father’s shadow, but she also doesn’t want to disappoint him. She has so many conflicting feelings wrapped up in her head because she loves Truman, but she also wants to explore different possibilities outside of the Psychonauts, feeling as if her life is being planned for her, possibly to even take on the role of Grand Head. She has so many muddled feelings, but she’ll always, always, always love her father and the peaceful times they share together.

Psychic parents trying to win favor with her dad would often offer play dates with their kids. It worked for a bit until Lili realized they didn’t want to be real friends with her. Truman quickly shut that down when he noticed how unhappy was with these “friends” over. It made her wary about new kids in her life in case they or their parents wanted something to do with her dad. 

It’s why Whispering Rock was such a haven for her at first. Truman thought it would be the best place to make real connections, choosing that camp personally out of the others due to the counselors present. He believed she’d be safe to meet new kids. Initially, she thought the kids would try to warm up to her to get access to her dad or some “power” of some sorts, but the campers are just very normal, regular kids. Most of them didn’t know she was the daughter of the Grand Head and treated her as average as possible (except Kitty). It was really refreshing at first, and she began opening up.

“Are you talking to me because you want to get my dad?” “Um, no, sorry, miss. I was just wonderin’ if ya wanted to kick around the hackeysack.” Lili quickly realizes making blunt accusations around these kids isn’t the best way to go about it during her first week, and she does apologize to JT for it. She did have fun kicking around that hackeysack with him and Phoebe!

But her first friend would be Bobby. He was a loner, didn’t have friends either, and they hung back in the coach’s class enough together for Lili to start talking to him. He was surprised at first, but hey, someone wants to be his friend? He’s game. For Lili, it’s nice to have someone to talk to and learn more about the silly rumors around camp (like the lake monster).

There’s also Kitty, who really does like Lili, too, and she’s great at applying Lili’s eyeshadow. Shocked the hell out of her dad on parent’s day, but he kept his mouth shut because Lili was beaming as she introduced her two new friends. And she’s slowly making more friends, not as close, but it’s very pleasant to be around these kids (even if she gets annoyed when it’s obvious Kitty and Bobby are bickering over who gets to hang out with her).

Sasha had set up his lab this year, making it also his first time in camp. He tends to look out for Lili, all while offering advanced training to the kids who show exceptional promise. She hides out in his lab when she wants a break, always denying his chance to use the Brain Tumbler on her because “Dad would kill you if anything happened to me.” Sasha keeps claiming it’s safe, and that’s what helps convince Lili to encourage Bobby to try out the advanced training. (Unfortunately, Bobby would blame Lili for the machine going haywire and hurting him, severing their friendship in a very public, very hurtful way. It was a total accident out of Lili’s hands, but Bobby couldn’t see it that way at the time.)

She is able to find comfort in Kitty, who is able to cheer her up. Though, she is able to use a bit of “influence” on Lili when she gets tired of Kitty sneering at the other kids. Soon enough, though, Lili finds herself alone. Kitty has moved on, and Bobby is still pissed at her summers later, and camp leaves a bad taste in her mouth. There are other kids who are nice to her, and she’s friends with them, but Whispering Rock doesn’t have the same charm.

But it isn’t all bad! She does have great friends with Chops and Quentin. Chops was her first boyfriend, and she really liked his humor and music. Quentin was also fun, even if his singing needed so much work. Phoebe was also cool until she started insisting she help with Lili’s “isolation issues.” Lili is sensitive, but she hides it under layers of controlled confidence.

And of course, there’s Dogen! Being that they’re both descendants of founding Psychonauts, she knows Dogen has a different kind of pressure on his shoulders. She thinks he’s a sweet kid, a bit naive, but very genuine in his own way. She might act aloof about him, but she’s still protective of Dogen. (Also, Sam was her babysitter when she was younger! She let Lili watch PG-13 movies.)

She’s aware that Crystal looks up to her, and that Crystal has issues of her own, so she is ready to stand up for her whenever Bobby and Benny try tormenting her. She’d help Clem, too, but she gets the feeling he’d rather be left alone when his smile slips.

So, it’s kind of drab for Lili for a couple of years. Flowers are much preferable than people. And she can’t pick a favorite flower! That’d be far too mean! Different fauna has different feelings, after all.

Which is why Raz was such a spark of life! A breath of fresh air! He brought excitement back to her life, jarring Lili out of a funk that she stewed in for so long. He made her see how fun being a Psychonaut could be, how fun being a psychic can be in general. That adventure in Whispering Rock helped change her worldview, especially now that she had a friend (and boyfriend! Because she’s tough like that, and she wants what she wants, and she looked at Raz and asked, “Is anyone gonna be his girlfriend?” and didn’t wait for an answer.)

But back to Truman, she regrets that their relationship dwindled. She’ll always be his little girl, even if Truman wishes he could always do more for her. But Lili loves him so much! He’s her hero! Just how she looked at him during Hollis’ speech, she adores her father and wants to do right by him after years of blowing off the Psychonauts. I think the end of PN2 really allows them to connect and be together in a way that they hadn’t had for quite some time. I like imagining them taking up gardening in Lili’s private area, especially with Uncle Bob joining them, really giving Lili this feeling that the Zanottos are a family again.

But let’s get some happier headcanons! Chloe and Lili are really tight friends!! When Chloe told Lili that she would want to dissect her least, Lili was very touched. She knows Chloe is human, but she goes along with Chloe’s alien heritage to make her happy. They’re friends over the years, and she appreciates Chloe’s honest, blunt nature, AND Chloe picks out the best eye shadow and nail polish.

Huge Sonic the Hedgehog fan. “But it takes place in the 80s?” Irrelevant. She has the Shadow the Hedgehog gun statue AND the massive Shadow poster from E3 from circa 2000. Never forgave Bobby for erasing her Sonic Adventure Dreamcast data in favor of starting up a new save file for Mortal Kombat Gold. Lili had a level 100 Chao, stats MAXED OUT, and she had never known a harsher loss. She bit him on the shoulder for it, and Milla had to break them up.

She’s able to become friends with Milka, too. She’s dumbfounded when Milka left that scathing message on the bulletin board because she was trying to ignore Elton’s advances. She didn’t want to get involved with someone really clingy (even if Elton didn’t mean to come off that way - he thought he was being nice). She gives Milka a few of her old skirts the next time they’re both in camp because she remembers the one compliment Milka left in that note. Milka thought it was a trick, but after coming to know Raz, Lili opens up more, and in turn, Milka does as well - the girls are gossiping!!!! And sharing hair tips!! I think they’d smugly parade their guys around each other in good fun all “My Elton can navigate several vessels.” “Well, my Raz can part the seas those vessels are on.” “That’s cute. Elton could kill him. “Whoa, uh…” (Elton shocked but enamored face goes here)

I’m of the belief she looks more like her father when she grows up. A stockier frame, a bit on the shorter side, etc. Though, one year for Halloween, she dressed up like her dad, and there were agents genuinely confusing her for him. Truman tried to nudge his paperwork her way, and she was just, “No, Dad.”

When she’s working on her own paperwork as an agent, however, she’s blasting her dark ambient tunes. She focuses better with background noise and lyricless music, something that’s been happening when she was a kid.

Maloof

Karaoke junkie as an adult. He thinks he’s a great singer, and he has a lot of power to make his men clap even when he’s off-key. Only Mikhail has the guts to tell him when his pitch was off.

Still loves cartoons well into his adulthood. He’ll be in his private limo on his way to a meeting, and he’ll have a portable DVD player with the box set of seasons one through three of Spongebob with him. (He will absolutely criticize the newer art style and how bright it is compared to the earliest seasons. Not a fan of plot-driven cartoons btw. They get too preachy for his liking such as when a character goes on a deep, emotional journey to become a better person. Boring! Instead, he prefers a good gag.)

His mother and father were shocked to realize he was psychic. While they aren’t psychic, through their lineage, they realized it was a recessive gene in both of their families. They’ve employed private psychic tutors to help Maloof master his powers, but it wasn’t successful, so they contended to send him to Whispering Rock. It was against his mother’s better judgment, but his father insisted, believing the Psychonauts would be a good fit for him. If anything happened, all Maloof needed to do was call him, and he’d send over a goon to pick him up (and also collect the name of anyone who bothered him.)

With the way his parents raise him - Maloof’s environment is very upper class considering his father is the don of a familial syndicate - Maloof is sheltered. He’s an only child, and his parents don’t plan on having more kids. His extended family is large, and there are many people employed by his parents (whether they’re butlers or hitmen are different matters). He’s shy around new kids, and he’s very comfortable at home. He’s a mama’s boy and the apple of his father’s eye. They simply adore Maloof, who can do no wrong.

In turn, this makes him a crybaby. He’s used to getting what he wants, so in Whispering Rock, where he’s easy pickings, it terrifies him. He doesn’t want to go to Whispering Rock. It’s scary. It’s dark. He heard there’s a lake monster. The kids are mean to him online. But his father reassures him that he’s just a call away, which is what makes Maloof agree. His pop knows Maloof is a smart boy, and Maloof believes that, too.

Maloof is very aware. He knows what his parents do, and he knows about the mafia. His father wanted to prepare him in case anything happened, so he makes sure to never lie to Maloof. He even brings Maloof to meetings with other mafiosos, letting him see how it’s done (but only in places where nothing bad can happen. Neutral zones, that is.) Watching the Godfather with his dad is a fun pastime for them!

He looks up to his parents and emulates his pop. He wants to follow in his footsteps, admiring what he does and how he expands his control. Maloof listens to what he says and repeats them until he understand the depths of their meaning. He also has a pocket dictionary on him, wanting to learn more as well. (The Canolas are experts in extortion, blackmail, and ‘protection services.’)

If there is another camper who he likes aside from Mikhail, it’s Crystal. She was always nice to him, She never picked on him. She let him cry on her shoulder, and sometimes, when he accidentally stumbled upon her crying, he felt terrible because he couldn’t say what she needed to hear. He knows what it’s like to be weak, and he’s aware she has certain issues, so he has Mikhail look after her from a distance to make sure Kitty and Franke leave her alone.

Though, he was frustrated when Crystal gently refused his offer of “self-protection.” He thought it was the perfect plan for her, and it dumbfounded him throughout the rest of camp because he really thought he was about to help her through her problems.

He is one to hold a grudge. He remembers all the times Bobby and Benny punched and kicked and pushed him in the creek. He remembers all the times Kitty and Franke pulled him into the girls’ cabin to dress him up in tutus and force him to wear lipstick. But if there is someone interesting he holds a grudge against, it’s Clem. He thinks Clem is dragging a nice girl like Crystal down. Making matters worse, Clem is a jock, and Maloof isn’t one for sports, being picked last during gym class. It’s a matter of jealousy.

With Mikhail on his side, he has a much, MUCH more enjoyable time at camp. He might only go for the first summer session, but during that month, he’s in charge. He feels so powerful, and there are other kids coming to him for protection or requests. He receives their Dream Fluffs (he has no use for psitanium), and he and Mikhail go out and finish the job.

Per Mikhail’s request, Maloof uses a camcorder and films Mikhail while he wrestles bears. He is sometimes downright petrified to watch him and the bears maul the hell out of each other for sport, and it doesn’t matter how old Maloof is when he’s doing it.

And per Maloof’s request, at camp, Mikhail would read him Russian bedtime stories via their telepathic connection (that Mikhail focuses on; Maloof is as adept yet).

His psychic speciality turns out to be using his shield. I was initially going to say PSI blast, but he has ways to express his frustration through much more expository manners (ordering a goon, giving a deal someone can’t refuse, etc). He has to protect himself, so shielding felt perfect to me.

He grew up in luxury, and he joins in the family business. Though, I also like imagining him at the Psychonauts pulling double duty in an office job to keep his Canola family affairs away from their suspicion. While his father is still calling the shots, he’s trusted Maloof to do the same work as he does, and Maloof is very efficient at it, managing the goons and other associates while expanding their profits.

He and Mikhail are close friends over the years. There have been many partners in Maloof’s life, but Mikhail stayed the longest. Although I also like Mikhail being a Psychonaut (or a professional wrestler), if he stays at Maloof’s righthand man, he’s the only one Maloof fully trusts as his confidante. He can tell Mikhail anything, even if it sometimes earns a hearty laugh if he’s embarrassing himself.

Maloof has great taste in wine and is an excellent cook. There might be people who make his meals, and he can afford the best restaurants, but he likes the smells of the kitchen and preparing his own dishes. It helps him stay grounded.

Somehow, he’s become friends with Benny. At the end of PN, when Benny returned, shunned by Oleander, Maloof made him a deal he can’t refuse: be his “ears” in the camp. Benny quickly accepted, and for that short period of time, even if Benny grated his nerves after a while with his excessive flattery, they bonded over their mutual enjoyment of power. And occasionally, Benny would make him laugh. Mikhail does graduate out of camp soon after, but with Bobby stuck like glue to Chloe, Benny found himself around Maloof, and Maloof had to admit his company was not terrible.

They’re better friends as adults. They’ve both made something for themselves, and Maloof can’t have a karaoke night without Benny, even if they’re making Mikhail’s ears bleed. “Awful. Horrible. I’m calling the cab to go home,” he says during their rendition of Luck Be a Lady.

Mikhail

Misha!! What a fun kid!! A lot of people deem him very serious or lacking depth, but Mikhail has a strong sense of humor and a nobility to him. He dislikes those who pick on the weak, but he hams it up a lot when it comes to making friends. He says how he’s going to wrestle them as a way to befriend people to stay in character as a “villain.” He was really looking forward to that fight with Bobby! He thought it’d be a great challenge!

He was born to a psychic father and a non-psychic mother. He has a few other siblings (an older sister, two younger brothers, and a youngest/toddler sister), and almost all of them are psychic, too, except for the youngest brother and toddler sister. His big sister is in college during canon, but Mikhail gets to wrestle his little bros and lift his baby sister as a form of training his telekinesis.

His father is a carpenter, and his mother is a former politician. She was a local community organizer and stayed that way until the birth of her third child. She wanted more time with her family, so she stepped out of the public spotlight. His oldest sister is following in their mom’s footsteps, so Mikhail doesn’t see much of her since she’s focused heavily on her education.

Because of his parents’ occupations, they instilled a sense of hard work in Mikhail. He believes that hard work will bring about good results. They also want Mikhail to focus on his goals in life. When he became enamored with the world of professional wrestling, his dad laughed and ruffled his hair and said they’d get him the best training out there. His mom likes to drive him to practices and tournaments and support him! (There is a bit of generational wealth in the Bulgakov family, so money isn’t a concern for them.)

His family travels a lot, so Mikhail is very worldly. He has a decent grasp on a few languages. He’s also invested in many sports like hockey, basketball, tetherball, etc, but wrestling will always be his favorite. He loves the idea of building a persona, hyping up a crowd, and going wild in the ring! He hopes to sign autographs one day.

Mikhail loves nature. He is taking pictures of snails and captioning them effervescent. There is so much beauty in the world. Sending dozens of nature photos to his friends. Phoebe scrolls through them, and there is Mikhail in the far distance looking like a mirage in the desert, but he is very distinctively giving a peace sign. (Shout out to Rem for putting the thought of Phoebe waking up to Mikhail’s snail photos in my head)

He loved bears since he was a tiny tot. His mom thought she lost four-year-old Mikhail at the zoo only to SHRIEK when she found him VERY HAPPILY running into the bear exhibit to tussle with some cubs. (“MY MISHA!!! NO!!!”) But they were happy to see him, too!! He feels a kinship with them in how they wrestle and communicate. He forms a zoolingualist bond with them, tho it’s really the only animal he can speak with, not that he minds. The bears back home are always eager to wrestle! Also, they’re chill. He’s taking naps on them. He’s at Whispering Rock, thinking, “Patricia, I’m weary. Mind if I nap?” And Patricia the PSI bear flops over to rest, too, and he’s asleep on top of her back. Ranger Cruller doesn’t know what the hell he’s looking at. He’s also too wary to tell Mikhail to leave the woods because the bears gang up on him.

But when he’s nearing adulthood, he finds himself at a crossroads. There’s so much he wants to do, but he feels suddenly limited. His parents support his choices, and yet, Mikhail doesn’t know which path to take. He wants to be a wrestler. He wants to be a Psychonaut, but the Psychonauts aren’t what he expected throughout his internship. He excels in field missions, but he isn’t the best at the therapeutical angle. I see him pulling double duty as a compromise - being a field agent in addition to a professional wrestler. Sasha and Milla are celebrities, so for me, it makes sense for Mikhail to be one, too, in a very unique way.

As a Whispering Rock camp counselor (he got shipped there because he kept forgetting to fill out his paperwork), Mikhail ran a fight club for the Astal Warriors at Whispering Rock with Bobby when they were both assigned there. Do NOT tell Phoebe, or she’ll make them disband it. Crystal happens upon it, and they freak out (because they’re also drinking a little while supervising the kids duking it out), but she isn’t a narc, and the kids want her to keep it a secret, too

Mikhail, standing tall and proud. “GG.” (Bobby coughing and sputtering) He crouches. “No RE.” (Bobby groaning and struggling to kneel) He grins wide and holds out his hand. “Shake my hand.” (Bobby collapses in the Yamcha pose with a loud OUGH.)

He’s weak to confusion. He knows he’s susceptible to it, so Hollis’ training was modified for him to help strengthen his mental defenses. I think Kitty would try to manipulate him (like doing part of her intern assignments), and it works for a bit, until he’s able to keep her out of his head. He’s not one to rat someone out, but Phoebe was not happy to hear about Kitty’s dealings! He was also disappointed in himself for being such an easy target.

Milka

Milka was born to a mother alone. The father is not in the picture. She does not know the identity of her father, and she doesn’t care to find out. All she knows is that when she asked her mother about her father when she was younger, she started crying. With her face in her hands, she glared at Milka through her fingers, and Milka quickly went invisible. For that, Milka chose to stay quiet and forget he ever existed. 

It wasn’t always bad with her mother. Milka remembers times when she could be visible around her. There was her fourth birthday party. There was a small group of kids, and her mom didn’t seem upset. She even smiled. That’s the year Milka got her cat, who, much to Milka’s delight, can see her when she’s invisible, and Milka is later adept at turning her pet invisible.

Definitely a cat person. Has multiple cats over the course of her life. She grieves the passing of each one because she had a close connection with all of them.

 I think she crushes hard and fast. This first happened with Quentin, who’s nice to everyone, but he went out of his way to make her feel included. This evoked a special feeling in Milka, the feeling of being wanted, so she started following Quentin via invisibility, hoping to get closer to him (as she would for her mother). But Quentin isn’t interested in romance, already crushing on Kitty, and he’d rather stay as friends. (He was also a bit weirded out by Milka constantly staring at him or lingering without saying a word.) This did upset Milka, fully aware that Kitty was using him, and she set out to use her ability to dump Kitty’s expensive makeup in the lake. And Kitty can’t sue her because there’s no proof she did it.

MIlka isn’t as shy or anxious as she appears. She knows what she wants. She also knows who she wants to be seen by. If she doesn’t want to listen to Vernon’s stories or be caught by him, she’s turning invisible and rushing away. If she wants to eavesdrop, she’ll stand still and be invisible to Elka as she rants about Nils to Crystal, Phoebe, or Dogen. She’s a great lurker, and she likes having control by suddenly reappearing when no one is anticipating her.

Sometimes, it isn’t out of malice. She does prefer staying invisible. It makes her feel comfortable and even wanted. Chloe especially doesn’t mind, believing it’s just part of who Milka is. Milka really appreciates Chloe’s friendship, and they have a strong trust in each other. They can also climb trees really together, with Milka challenging Chloe to contests over who can climb faster or higher, and Chloe isn’t one to say no! (They’re both shocked when Mirtala effortlessly beats them when she comes to camp.)

Milka helped Mirtala see if she was psychic during her time at camp. (Milka did not return to camp a week after PN2, and she met her next year during the first summer session.) While Chloe theorized upon Mirtala’s hidden potential, Milka has more practical solutions such as concentrating really hard on an acorn and trying to move it. She had to stop Mirtala before she could give herself a bad headache when she concentrated way too hard. Mirtala suspects she’s psychic on account that Mirtala always seems to be able to find her general location when she is invisible. 

She has the power of foresight, but it’s unstable. They happen very rarely, unlike Elka’s persistent visions (which still come on at random, but at least Elka knows that they are a possibility). When they happen, she has terrible seizures. Her body will flail, and she’ll begin speaking out what is happening (i.e. stating the words that are being said by the person involved in the vision), which sometimes means she’s speaking a different language. She’s later prescribed anticonvulsants.

Her true love really, really, REALLY is Elton. She was convinced it was Quentin, but that fateful vision changed her life. What she saw was pure delight, a future filled with happiness. They were on the sea enacting out Jack and Rose’s moment on the bow. The sea was wide and blue, melting into the sky. It was in that moment Milka understood freedom, the vastness of the world, and joy bursting in her chest. With Elton, she had fallen in love.

And she stated it so bluntly to him. She skipped the dating stage and went right with her loving proclamation. Elton was fast to accept her, too, so they jumped into their relationship with their heads in the clouds, and their eyes set on each other, and they never left.

She has a really gentle relationship with Elton’s mom. She’s a very keen woman, and she can tell that Milka’s home life has been rough. So, she always treats her sweetly. She gifts her things her mother never would. She takes her shopping when she’s come to visit, sometimes across the country. And she never mistreats her, never wants her gone, and Milka feels at home with her and Elton.

MIlka grows up to be one of the best spies for the Psychonauts. Her exterior might seem reserved and shy, but she’s a firecracker. She can trail an enemy for days without them ever realizing she’s right next to him. Milka’s never suffered a single scar with her talent in invisibility. She goes in, stealths about, and returns to the Motherlobe with the needed information. (And then she stalks off to ignore her paperwork or foist it upon a poor intern).

JT helps her out when he can as a kid, but sometimes, she shows up in his family’s barn to chill out. She chats with the stray cats who hang out there, too. The Hoofburgers are aware Milka is around and give her dinner if she wants to stay the night, but sometimes, she leaves without telling them to make it back home. It is worrying for JT, but she insists she’s fine, and they remain good friends.

She keeps her “Jennifer Aniston” hairstyle when she’s older lol.

Mirtala

“But Rose she’s not a camper-” YET!! Right after PN2, my belief is that she wants to go to Whispering Rock. Problem is, she isn’t psychic. While Frazie joins the intern program, Mirtala pleads her case to Oleander of all people. She really wants to meet new kids, especially psychics, having grown up mostly in the shadows of her siblings. While they’re able to connect with others so easily, she isn’t. She’s a bundle of sunshine and energy, but she’s had trouble maintaining friendships because her family is always on the move, so her longest “friends” are her siblings. Oleander sees how camp can help her, deciding it’d also be in her best interest to attend to see if she has any psychic potential laying dormant. Augustus and Donatella agree, though Donatella is more reluctant as she’s worried about the many miles that will be between her and her little Tala. (in addition to this, hollis would like to make amends with donatella for threatening to burn their caravan, so she personally approves of mirtala attending camp for one summer session whenever she can - free of charge! it's an olive branch that donatella does appreciate.)

So, she joins Sasha, Milla, Oleander, Ford, and Lucy to camp the following week after PN2. Mirtala is less than happy to know Ford will be with her Nona, so she made a show of sticking close to her and glaring at "the bacon man” whenever he tried coming close. She hasn’t forgiven Ford for what he did to her family (and she still has a little trouble understanding it all), and it’s going to take a long time for her to warm up to him. In the meantime, she’s glaring at him when Lucy isn’t looking (but Lucy is aware and simply smiles because MIrtala is her sweet little turnip who can do no wrong!)

Mirtala isn’t psychic as a child. To attend classes, the counselors pulled her into their minds using their own abilities. Mirtala, however, breezed through Basic Braining using her acrobatics. She even finished before a few other Tender Brains, much to Oleander’s pleasant shock. She wears her Basic Braining merit badge with pride! He thinks she’s a real promising agent!!

She has a very keen intuition. She seems to know where everyone is just by her gut feeling. Oleander had speculated that she is psychic, setting up with Sasha a secret test to find out if she could sense them, which after a few bits of trial and error, she was able to look in the direction where Oleander was using invisibility. Later findings would note that Mirtala was able to detect Milka, when none of the other kids could. (This is based on how Raz said sibling detection could be a psychic power and on the cut dialogue where Augustus and Donatella send her out to find Nona)

Though, intuition isn’t a psychic ability. Mirtala would later find out she is psychic when she’s an adult, but she’s an incredibly weak one. As in, she can barely levitate, barely lift anything, can only set small things on fire, etc. She has strong headaches if focusing for too long and nosebleeds if she goes overboard. But she uses brief pushes of her powers to help with her acrobatics, such as controlling ribbons of water, as she decides to stay with the circus as the new Prima Donna - though, her mom is still around. (She can go into a state of subconscious control if over-exerted where she has much more technical prowess based on instinct, though this last a short period and only activates if in a flight-or-fight situation.)

At home, she was the peacekeeper among her siblings. She often tried to soothe fights between her older siblings, sometimes utilizing her tears if things were going south. She’s incredibly close with Raz, so it hurt her very hard when he ran away. She blamed herself for getting mad when he fiddled with her tiara during that fateful performance. She puts her feelings secondary when trouble brews among the Aquatos (sibling spats, arguments between Augustus and Raz over psychics, etc), so she keeps practicing her acrobatics to bring smiles to their faces, especially Nona, and keep everyone together.

But at camp, she gains a sense of freedom. She always put her family first. She might’ve been the star, but she stayed quiet and to herself, often overshadowed by the others. (This isn’t meant to come out as neglectful - the Aquatos love Mirtala, but she put them first over herself). At camp, she doesn’t need to worry about anything, and she can be herself and FINALLY make long-lasting friends!!

And speaking of friends, she wants to be everyone’s pal! It makes her an oddball at the camp with cliques. The first kid she met was Bobby, who stayed at camp during the break period (his foster family didn’t want him anymore). He wasn’t nice at first, but Mirtala made it her mission to befriend him…by following him around. She wouldn’t leave! They were the only kids for that weekend, so Mirtala bounced after him and even got to have a tea party with him…after she eagerly went through what happened at the Motherlobe, in which Bobby learned Maligula was her great-aunt (and also she’s that stupid gogglehead’s sister!! Which means he’s also related to Maligula!! Awful!! They even have a powerful psychic in their lineage, so he’s a little jealous and a little fearful because Lucy gives him this knowing smile all, ‘I know you want to be mean to my little turnip, but my sea serpents will SEIZE you if you so much as pinch her.’)

They end up having a tea party together. He’s so thankful no one was at camp while Princess Prima Donna and Boo-Boo the Clown had scones, but he was willing to gossip about the upcoming kids with her, so Mirtala had a good idea of who she’d be dealing with by the time they showed up. She followed after him a lot during their time alone because she wanted him to play with her, and he kept giving in because “FINE!! FINE. just stop JINGLING.” She purposefully jingled her bells more afterward.

“Oh! Boo-Boo! You have that eye condition! It’s, ummmm…heterophobia!” “Yeah, I got heterophobia. What of it?” “I think it’s neat!” (He thinks that’s the actual world until he tells Chloe his condition, and she drops her telescope, wide-eyed.)

As for the other kids, she made an enemy out of Kitty but simultaneously ended her legal reign over the camp. She bumped into her and spilled orange juice all over Kitty’s white cashmere jacket in front of everyone in the lodge during lunch. She was so furious that she SCREAMED, “My dad is going to sue your family until they’re six feet under!” The other kids tried to intervene, but Mirtala wasn’t deterred in the slightest. In fact, she calls Kitty stupid to her face, and the campers lapse into silence.

“You’re stupid! Your dad can’t sue me. I’m a kid. He’d have to sue my parents, but the lawsuit would be thrown ‘cause it’s frivolous. Also, we weren’t looking at each other when we collided ‘cause we were both distracted. That’s negligent on your part, Kitty. The court would throw this case out in a jiffy.”

Kitty is stunned. Franke is stunned. Everyone is stunned. Mirtala frequently listens when Donatella works on any legal paperwork when the Aquatos are sued for mishaps at the circus, so she filed away the lessons her mom imparted. She might not fully get the history with her family, but she learned a lot from Donatella and the legal world. She’ll inherit the circus one day, so it’s on her shoulders to keep it in tiptop legal shape!

This was a catastrophic event for Kitty because it made everyone realize ‘hey, she can’t actually sue us into oblivion no matter what legal jargon she says’ so her arrowhead scalping scheme is tarnished, and no one takes her seriously anymore (unless she’s trying to hypnotize them). And she can’t do ANYTHING about it because Lucy has made it very clear, VERY CLEAR that no harm shall befall her little turnip. (She calls Mirtala ‘Dirty Mirty’ because of the former ‘water curse’ but Mirtala doesn’t take her seriously at all. She calls her smelly right back because “You’re using perfume to hide your BO!”) 

Aside from making enemies out of Kitty and Franke, she tried to make tons of friends! Dogen was an obvious friend! He told her what the squirrels were thinking, and she’d use him as a jumping board until he told her to stop messing with his special hat. Sometimes, she’d get bored with him because he isn’t the best conversationalist. Dogen often wandered offin the middle of her performance, and she’d stare at the spot where he stood all >:/. They’re better friends as teens because Dogen is able to come out of his shell a little more.

Mikhail thought she’d be a fun challenge until she said he had really skinny arms all innocently. She crushed his spirit that day, but it was back the next day when he tried sneak attacking her…only for Lucy to get involved. Mikhail was like, “Oh?? Well, I accept your challenge-!” He gets snapped up by a sea serpent. He was left staring gobsmacked at the sky while Mirtala giggled.

As for JT, she thinks he’s cool, which is just as Raz saw him! She kept complimenting him as he practiced his PSI blasts and played his harmonica. I think she’d have a tiny little crush on him, but JT is NOT interested in a relationship, so it fades pretty quickly.

Phoebe was a curious case! Phoebe saw this new kid and wanted to give her therapy. Much to her pleasant surprise, Mirtala accepted! No one accepts because her advice is, hm, decent at the best. When Mirtala goes in-depth about her past, she starts tearing up because it’s been a lot on her shoulders, and Phoebe really tries her best to help Mirtala understand what she’s feeling.

But her most special friend at camp is Chloe! She was so excited to meet her the most because of how Bobby described her. She’s going into the friendship truly believing Chloe is this super smart, super cool alien from another galaxy.

“You’re Chloe!” “I am” “Boo-Boo told me so much about you! Like how you make stuff! And how you’re an alien! That’s so cool!” And Chloe immediately looks at him. He’s stammering something, but she gives her attention back to Mirtala because it seems this creature accepts that she;s an alien, which must mean that Mirtala is also an alien due to her enormous eyes, tiny hands, and characteristics belonging to the Zwickians

They become very good friends!! Mirtala is invested in helping Chloe reach her people, and Chloe wants to learn everything she can about Zwickians, so they spend a ton of time together. Mirtala’s support is something that’s different from Bobby’s. While he’s more passive and accepting to anything Chloe says, Mirtala is quick to offer her own solutions, and her perspective is something Chloe enjoys because it’s a new form of knowledge.

She teaches Chloe acrobatics! Her helmet kind of gets in the way, but Chloe concedes that the earth toxins won’t hurt her if it’s only momentarily, so Mirtala is the first camper to see Chloe’s face up close. Mirtala calls her cute reflexively, and Chloe is pleasantly surprised. They also share hair accessories!!

They’re involved when they’re teens, but it’s mostly casual, kind of like what Franke and Kitty have at camp. Hand-holding, not trying to be serious, like a romantic friendship. The distance is an issue, and sometimes, they have dramatic break-ups because of misunderstanding (Mirtala was so upset when Chloe said she wouldn’t love her if she was a worm!!), but they support each other through thick and thin. Mirtala and Chloe have done the MadoHomu head nuzzling gif. Milka is doesn’t see it because she’s currently doing the MadoHomu head nuzzling gif with Elton.

And speaking of Milka, she, Chloe, and Milka are the weird little girls of Whispering Rock! Causing trouble! Making Kitty mad! Throwing her stuff in the lake while Chloe stands guard!!

Also, she’s friends with Linda! Linda has a special bond with most of the kids who returned to camp. But with Mirtala (and Chloe and Bobby, who she’s deemed powerful alien children), Linda takes them down to explore the depths of Lake Oblongata.

She can roll her r’s really well! She and Benny are experts at it.

She and Chloe have The Bachelor/The Bachelorette nights when they’re grown and living together. Bobby does everything in his power to not be home when they’re watching it because they get intense about the show. Milka occasionally joins!

She might not be a Psychonaut as an adult, but she sometimes tags along to be a distraction with Chloe and Bobby! She has her own circus act with Bobby as her “assistant” (unwilling, help him) while Chloe does her spy stuff.

she and raz are EXTREMELY CLOSE!!!!! do not separate. "i'm raz!" "and i'm tala!" THE BOBBY BOTHERERS.

Ni

Oh, Nils, what is there to say about you? Most consider him to be the worst camper due to his “less than savory” ways toward the girls, which is completely understandable. I headcanon him as having grown up in a pretty upper-middle class way. He’s living a very comfortable life, but that doesn’t mean it’s perfect.

His parents had Nils very young, and they married shortly after. They’re in a perpetual honeymoon state, so sometimes, Nils is a bit secondary to them when they want to have fun, BUT that doesn’t mean they don’t love him. They just want to have a lot of date nights, so sometimes, they just aren’t home and leave him with a babysitter.

Nils’ mom can be described as the one meme where the woman says “not now sweatie mommy is cyberbullying.” She likes to have time for herself and go out with her gal pals. As for his dad, he’s very much a Silicon Valley type of guy. He wants Nils to be the best he can be and also try to not get in trouble because he doesn’t want their family to have a bad connotation. It’s a little bit of pressure on Nils, but his dad hopes it will give Nils a greater sense of purpose.

It does not. In fact, it kind of has the opposite effect. Nils’ needs really aren’t met by his parents. It’s not a huge case of neglect compared to Bobby or Milka, but Nils isn’t really getting what he feels he needs, and there’s a rift between himself and his parents. It’s not an unlovable rift, as his parents really are trying to give Nils what they think is best for him, but again, it’s not what he really needs. (To clarify, they do spend time with Nils. They go on vacations and shower Nils with gifts. His mom is involved at his school. His dad brings Nils to his job, but there’s an emptiness inside Nils.)

So, Nils seeks affection outside of his parents. Hence, where his flirtations with girls starts to become more prevalent. He thinks being in a relationship will be great. He’s definitely seen too many R-rated movies, and he has, unfortunately, been influenced by those films. It’s a classic case of “way too young to be seeing this.”

Around the same time, his psychic powers developed. It happened one year before canon, with his power of clairvoyance being a staple of who he is. Seeing how others saw him was a way for Nils to examine himself. He first checked himself through the eyes of his parents, and while he saw himself, he was dressed differently. For his dad, he was in his father’s clothes. For his mom, he was a wealthy businessman, ready to take on the world. They were thinking of his future, instead of his present.

That brings us back to how he seeks affection from others. He isn’t attracted to boys at all, and his feelings for girls are…extensive. He thinks he has to be a casanova to win their heart. He doesn’t want to trample on their feelings, so he goes at them one at a time, hoping to impress them. Most, however, are uninterested or are unaware he wants to date them. Lili and Phoebe rolls their eyes at him. Kitty takes Franke away, etc.

But then, there’s Elka Doom. He thought he hit the jackpot. To Nils, Elka was beautiful. She was sweet, and she liked being around him. She liked holding his hand and giving him kisses. It was the affection he wanted, and he found himself suddenly thrust in the middle of it. It boosted his confidence, thinking this was the way to win over girls (or at least, keep Elka as his summer fling because hey, she might be bossy and snooty, but she’s always giving him a meaningful look.)

So, when Elka hit him with a “so, I’ve seen us married in the future, and we’re destined to be together forever,” it scared the HELL out of him. First of all, Nils was way too young to hear that. He, after all, was only eight. He didn’t want commitment. He wanted fun! He wanted a girlfriend! Not a wife! He broke up with her in a messy way, leading him to realize Elka hadn’t really taken care of his needs. He figured another girlfriend would, leading him to pursue others while she blamed him for the break-up, her cryptic warnings that they would meet constantly still in his head. 

Nils doesn’t exactly change his ways as he grows up. His relationships with women are superficial as a teen, but he does have a few good friends. Crystal is always nice to him, and he doesn’t really want to date her after a few years. Clem is chill with him, and his poker face gets so much better as the years go on. Nils ends up losing to him more often than it’s worth to play cards with him. He doesn’t have many close friendships with the teen!campers, but he has friends outside of the Motherlobe and the Psychonauts.

He’s a great surfer! He’s grown up by the beach, so he really likes getting out in the sunshine and hitting the waves.

Like Kitty, he does want to be presentable, so he indulges in high-end clothing. He tries wearing suits as a teen, but people just made fun of him at HQ, so he ditched them for his surfer-esque clothes. Not the best choice in attire to wear in a colder climate!

and i just didn't get to the rest! but i jotted down soe tidbits about them!

Phoebe’s mentor is Morris. She knew him from when she reached out to him to premiere the Firestarters on KLOB a week after PN2.

Both Phoebe and Quentin are DBZ fans are kids. She likes Gohan. She wants to give him therapy so, so, sooo bad.

Phebe takes anti-anxiety medication whenshe's older.

quentin isn't a psychonaut, but he a traveling dj! phoebe joins him for gigs as she chose to become a therapist for the psychonauts

quentin smokes weed as an older teen like that one image of ralsei

d'art is still in that damn outhouse (jk - he's friend with clem and crystal when they happen upon him scurrying through camp, and they all make the mgs ! noise when they see each other)

vernon is a master storyteller, and he's a published author! it's given him a pretty big chip on his shoulder since he proved them all wrong.

[aramis-dagaz]

Writober Day 6: Oracular, Curse

((Jacky is from Faded Scars and used with permission))

“Do…do you think they’ll be okay?”

Jacky looked at Resa.  The bear didn’t give a lot away, but Jacky could see in her eyes that she was scared.  That makes two of us…

She didn’t want to tell her a comforting lie.  Didn’t seem right, especially since she still felt responsible for putting her in this situation.  But she didn’t want to add to her worries, either.  She was just glad the children were asleep; probably the reason Resa felt comfortable asking.

Jacky instead decided to voice her own reason for confidence.  “He’s with a good crew.  Level heads, no strangers to trouble.  And while Rails doesn’t look it, he’s very good in a fight.  I trust him with my life, and you should trust your husband’s with him, too.”

Resa closed her worried eyes and took a deep breath.  “Then I will.  Thank you.”  She clearly was still scared, but it at least gave her something to cling to.  Jacky wished she could give her more.

“Though, uh…”  Resa glanced over her shoulder at Sister Claire, who was seated with the children, a dozing guardian angel, though Jacky had no doubts she would be awake the instant something threatened them to do something about it.  Satisfied they wouldn’t be heard, Resa leaned in closer, looking somewhat ashamed.  “Manuel isn’t, well, he isn’t my husband.”

Jacky blinked.  “Oh, so fiance, then?”  A quick head shake.  “Okay, so your beau.  Nothing wrong with that, though knowing that I’m actually more impressed he dropped everything to make sure you and the kids were safe.  He didn’t need to do that.”

Resa chuckled.  “Manuel would definitely say you’re wrong there.  He loves the children as though they were his own flesh and blood.  He’s definitely a father to them.”

“I stand corrected, if I were actually standing,” Jacky replied, earning another chuckle.  “If you don’t mind me asking, why not marry him?  You two clearly love each other.”

The sigh told Jacky that she just wandered into a well-worn question and immediately regretted asking.  “Actually, you don’t have to answer that.  I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried like that, it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s fine,” Resa said, gazing down at her hands in her lap.  “It’s the circumstances I have chosen, so I shouldn’t be so secretive about it.”

“Everyone has secrets, and not all are meant to be shared.”

Resa shook her head.  “Maybe, but the Saints teach us that hiding our sins and shame away only prevents us from communing fully with the Divine.”  She stopped, glancing back up at her with a sheepish look.  “Er, that is, I don’t mind talking about it, but I won’t force something so personal on you, especially with everything going on.”

Jacky glanced back out at the dark desert.  She shifted her position so both of them had their backs to Sister Claire and the children, with only the night and the critters in it to hear them.

“If you don’t mind talking about it, then I don’t mind hearing it.”

Resa closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “The truth is, I left my husband three years ago.  I won’t go into details, but, well, he was not the man I thought he was, especially when he was drunk, and he was drunk a lot.  I could put up with a lot, but when he started hurting the children…”  She covered her eyes with one of her massive, powerful hands, her breath catching.  Jacky waited patiently.

“I…I simply couldn’t let that continue.  Thank the Saints that I was able to find a sympathetic and very persuasive lawyer, and thus I was able to leave with the children.  It was just us for a long time.”

“Then Manuel?”

She couldn’t hide her smile.  “Yes, then Manuel.  He came in with the railroad, occasionally coming into town for provisions and to get their laundry cleaned.”  She laughed quietly.  “And I thought the ranchers produced dirty clothes.  I think running laundry was something they foisted upon whomever drew the short straw, but I kept seeing him more and more.  Just his bad luck, I guess.”

“Some folk make their own luck, as some would say,” Jacky said with a grin.

“Oh, believe me, I think he volunteered for the really dirty jobs just for an excuse,” Resa replied.  “Well, I’m no stranger to men taking a shine to me, but most find reasons to be elsewhere when they find out that I have children.  Not Manuel, though.  He fell in love with them the moment he saw them, and he would bring them gifts, play with them, accompany us to church.  And when the railroad finished the new route, when most of the workers left looking for work elsewhere, he came back and found work in town.  It’s been that way for over a year now.”

“He sounds like a very good man.”

“Few better, I daresay.”

They sat in silence, listening to the crackling of the fire behind them and the stirring silence in the desert before them, letting the warmth of the tale warm their hearts against the cruel coldness of the world.

“But, of course, that leads back to the original question…” Jacky said after a long while.

Resa exhaled slowly as the moment passed.  “Yes, it does.”  She turned to look at Jacky.  “What do you know of the Saints’ teachings?”

“Not much, admittedly.  I’ve heard some of their stories, mainly the ones everyone knows about.”

“The Saints, well, they have much to say about marriage.  Some feel that…”  Resa shook her head.  “No, I won’t bore you with theological details.  Suffice to say, regardless of their exact views they all agree that there is one true model that the Divine calls upon us to follow, and that is marriage is eternal and enduring, beyond the ability for mere mortals like us to sunder.”

“But you did divorce your husband, right?”

“Only by mortal law, and that was just to protect the children,” she replied, some iron in her tone.  “I feel no shame for that, I did what I had to do.”  She sighed, the strength evaporating from her.  “But by the Saints’ law, the Divine’s law, we’re still married, and nothing we can do will change that.”

Jacky sat quietly, ruminating on what she told her.  “I can’t say I fully understand,” she said, settling on a neutral answer.

“Not many do, admittedly, even among those who claim to follow the Saints’ teachings.  Though…I understand why many Saints advocate for it, even if only as a way to mitigate the damage of our sinful ways.”  She brushed her eyes with an unsteady hand.  “It’s…humbling to be in the position of those you once scorned, however quietly.”

“So that’s it?  You and Manuel are simply never going to marry?” Jacky asked.

“Never.  I hate to do that to him, because he truly deserves far, far better.  But I…he’s so kind and loving with the children, and…and…”  She clamped her hands over her face to silence her quavering voice and hold back the tears.  “Saints preserve me, the temptations I have for that man!”

Jacky reached over and rested her hand on the bear’s massive arm.  “I’m sure there’s a Saint that would defend you regardless.”

Resa’s sob became a truncated laugh.  “Oh, there is, there is.  A minor one in the canon, but understandably very popular.”  She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes.  “But I endeavor to make sure they won’t have to busy themselves too much with me when the day comes.  I can endure some temptation and gossip if it means the children will have a good father.”

“Sounds rough.”

“It can be, more often than I care to admit.  Sometimes I wonder if I’m trying to have things both ways and playing my own game with the Divine.  That’s never a good idea, according to many of the Saints’ stories.”  Resa took a deep breath and sat up straighter.  “I’ve made some bad decisions, but all I can do is just live with them and keep moving on.  It’s all any of us can do.  To let yourself be weighed down by the guilt of your own sins only keeps you from truly embracing the Saints’ teachings and communing fully with the Divine.”

She looked at Jacky and a sheepish look crossed her face.  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to preach like that.  You’re already doing a lot for us without me giving you a theological lecture.”

“No,” Jacky said, her thoughts turning back to everything that brought her here, “no, I think you’ve given me something to think about.  Though if you ask me, I think you’re putting far too great a burden upon yourself, even if it is for your kids.  Still, can’t say I don’t find something about your…moral endurance?  There’s something about it that I can’t help but find admirable.”

“Well, if my story helps you in some way, then perhaps it might’ve been worth it.  Somewhat.”

“Let’s not go quite that far.  There’s gotta be far easier ways to put reprobates like me on the straight and narrow.”

Resa chuckled.  “Okay, you’re probably right in that regard.  Anyway, thank you for listening.  It…felt good to get that off my chest.”

“It sounded like you needed to talk about it, so I’m glad I could help a bit.”

[melsimps]

Love Bites (but so do I)

Araven (oc) x reader.

Minors, dni. This will contain NSFW content and I'd really rather not have you reading that.

Is this a lil bit weird, writing about my oc like this? Kinda, but... eh. Sex sells. Anyway, here is local dilf, Araven.

For a start, he's big.

No, not like THAT-

...okay, maybe kinda like that.

But what I mean is, he's tall.

About seven feet tall in his human form, to be precise. Which means that he's probably gonna be taller than you.

Which is perfect bc he absolutely loves holding his significant other.

Araven chuckles as his head rests on your shoulder. He inhales deeply, his scarlet eyes fluttering shut in bliss as your scent fills his nostrils.

"...what are you doing-?" You ask, holding back giggles as you cling to him.

Araven hums, and you repeat the question.

"Ah, just... lavishing my songbird with affection..." He murmurs softly, committing every detail of your face to memory.

Anyway, onto the more sexy stuff.

He's scared to fuck you in his monster form.

Or well, do more than just thigh riding, fingering, or oral when he looks like that.

He doesn't want to break you (sweetheart).

He still doesn't when he's a human, too, but... it's less. He cns be a bit rougher and more intimate.

"That's it, starling," he murmurs, one clawed hand settled on your hip as you rock against him.

You whine out softly, your head resting against the sensitive red stone on his chest.

"Rav-Rav, baby, please-!" You squeal, grinding against the muscles in his leg.

Araven hums softly, nipping lovingly at your neck.

"Does my pretty little love need to cum for me-?" He teases, murmuring into your neck.

You nod, cheeks flushed and eyes scrunching shut.

"Fuck, please-"

He definitely prefers tender lovemaking to rough shit.

What can i say, my boy's a romantic.

He definitely goes all out during your first time together.

Champagne, chocolates, strawberries, roses. The works.

Araven undressed you with such reverence, such adoration.

It's like he's unwrapping a present from the gods.

He performs oral like a champ, teasing you for hours until you're all tender and achy for him, bucking against his face, his hands, the mattress, whatever.

And then, he strips bare, revealing himself to you.

His cock is... massive, to say the least. About six, maybe seven inches long? And he's really girthy, too. He's made sure to put a condom on, and lubed himself up liberally to the point where he may as well have just dipped his dick in a vat of it.

You have no idea how he's gonna fit, if he's even gonna fit-

-and then he kisses you. Softly gently, and every worry melts away as his hips rock against yours.

He is definitely a considerate lover.

Gives you three mind-blowing orgasms before he even gives himself one-!

Has the stamina of a god (literally).

Loves it when you pull on his hair, or drag your nails along his back.

Will hold your hand while he's fucking you in missionary.

Or if he's in doggy, he'll fondle your chest so lovingly.

Hell, if you're riding him, he's gonna probably cry because it gets him so excited, seeing you work yourself up for him, he might just try bouncing you himself, just to see how cockdrunk his songbird gets.

He'll whisper the dirtiest things to you in Diné/Navajo, and groan and growl.

Definitely gets a lot more sloppy the closer he is to cumming.

A lot of hip grabbing and biting from him.

Cums a lot.

Like, at least a tablespoon worth of cum just from one orgasm.

...hence why he always wraps it up.

And, on the off chance that he ever lets you fuck his monster self?

It's a lot more.

Like, a lot more.

At least ⅓ Cup of the stuff.

And his monster form has a knot, too.

...did I mention that?

(And yes, his dick does retract when he doesn't need it in that form)

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"Last Christmas." Gus X FEM! AFAB! Reader.

Well, hey and a Merry Christmas! So three years ago, I wrote this fic with Gus from The Ref (1994) and at the end of said fic I said he would come back three years later, and so I made a big effort to get this out and here it is! My favourite guy from my favourite Christmas movie deserves more porn of him. Not much else to say, but I hope you all enjoy this!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 5K. Gus X FEM! AFAB Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings. Fuck Buddies. Lack Of Feelings. This Is Just About Fucking. Some Movie Call Backs. Banter. Taunting. Teasing. Blow Job. Oral Sex. Extreme Need. Frustrated Reader. Masturbation Mention. Cunnilingus. Multiple Orgasms. Make Shift Gag. Raw Sex. (Kind Of Forced) Cream Pie. Squirting. Mild Degradation. Dirty Talk. Some Praise.

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It seems at this time of year you never really stop thinking about him. Your mind kept being drawn back to him, I mean, how could it not? He gave you the best and most memorable holiday season you’d ever had. He had a massive effect not just on your life but your family’s life. Everyone seemed to be much better off from that random Christmas he ended up stumbling into the mess that was your family onward.

Some might call you stupid or silly for clinging onto that night years later, but hey, it isn’t like it took up your whole life, it just became another part of the holidays. Some people baked cookies, some people watched stacks of Christmas movies, and you would masturbate in the pantry he fucked you in while threatening you with a gun. Tradition is tradition, whether wholesome or filthy.

You never thought you would ever see him again after he left, and you had accepted it, that was fine, if anything it made the time you shared better? More special. Because it was so brief and so fleeting, the nature of the season itself, here then gone in a flash.

So when he showed up unexpectedly, gifts in hand, snow on his shoulders, three years after that Christmas you met him, you were shocked but also unbelievably happy. Even though you tried not to show it, that massive grin on your face gave it away, before you could even consider mentally scolding yourself for it, in a surprising turn of events he returned the smile, what he said however was the biggest shock of all, “I was hoping you’d be here.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, you had thought about this moment plenty, but it was actually happening? 

Caroline called, “Who’s at the door?” She walked up behind you as she said, “You’re letting all the cold in-Oh!” Just like you, she froze, utterly shocked to see him standing there. There was a beat until he spoke up.

“Heya Caroline.” He greeted, adjusting the gifts stacked in his arms, a somewhat annoyed expression but a half smile all the same, “You gonna let me in or do I just get to freeze my ass off on the porch?” 

She jumped into action then, “God, uh I’m sorry, sorry Gus, of course, come on in.” The door pulled as wide as possible to let him inside, and you reached out, “Here, let me take those off your hands.”

He passed them off as he said, “Thanks, we don’t want a repeat, huh?” 

The memory of him saving you from almost dropping a pile of gifts is one that you couldn’t purge from your mind no matter what, it was the first time he touched you after all. Caroline took his coat and scarf, she stepped away to put them in the closet, and you joked, “What, you don’t want me touching you? Ouch, Gus.” 

A small scoff as he says quietly, wiping off his shoes, “Never said that, just maybe not in the doorway with her-” A gesture of his head, a glance to Caroline halfway in the closet, voice dropping lower, “- approximately six feet away.” 

“Fair.” You conceded and turned with a coy smile, starting to head into the living room to drop the gifts under the tree, and he followed you into the living room where Lloyd and Jesse were, the older of the two glanced up and choked on the glass of eggnog currently at his lips. 

Prompting the younger man begin to ask, “Jesus, what’s your problem, dad-” until Jesse followed his gaze to find where he was looking, “Holy shit! Gus?!”

“Jesse! Language.” Caroline scolded as she came into the room, and you laughed, “He’s eighteen, calm down, also, rich coming from you of all people.”

“Yeah, seriously, I’d be shocked if the first thing outta his mouth as a baby wasn’t a swear word.” Gus quipped and after the gifts he brought were under the tree, and you all sat down you finally got an explanation as to why he was back. You were all insanely curious, didn’t he make a clean get away with that big score? Why wasn’t he on the beach in some other country, away from the slush, ice and snow? 

He confessed that he did in fact get away, did just as he wanted to, and it was great. You asked if he ran out of money or something, and he laughed that off, “Hardly.”

So the question remained, why was he here?

Apparently the time off and the relaxation was great, but he had some “business to attend to” back on this side of the world, so here he was. “And all this business is legal, I assume?”

Lloyd’s question was met with Gus saying sharply with a smile and raised eyebrows, “As far as you’re concerned, Lloyd, yes, it is.” 

The way he said his name almost made you snort.

“So what are we? Just your safe house when you’re doing crime?” Caroline asked, and he said, “What you didn’t miss me? Isn’t any excuse to see me good enough?”

“Yeah Caroline, c’mon, whatever the reason you should let him stay. Especially after all he did for you guys.”  You pleaded and Jesse then cut in, “Yeah, mom, crime or not, it’s the holidays, isn’t it all about giving and letting others into your-our-home?”

She relented, throwing her hands up, “Okay, okay! Yes, welcome Gus, we are about to have dinner, I assume you want to join us?” 

“Oh, I don’t want to impose-” He started, and you leaned closer as you cut in and said quietly,  “I helped her cook this year.”

He responded as he got up, hands clapping together, “Well it’d be rude not to, right?” 

The meal this year was much, much more traditional fare, and it was significantly more enjoyable without a burning wreath on your head as it was the last time Gus was present. The meal was so peaceful in comparison to the first time he was here with you, it was like night and day. It had to be the nicest meal you ever had at their house, by the end of it you were full and felt light, a little tipsy admittedly from the wine, and you all got up, most of the dishes were done earlier. Once the dinner plates were dropped in the sink to soak, you started to head into the living room, dessert, coffee, drinks to be had and after that you would open up those aforementioned gifts. 

A hand on your wrist stopped you, and a turn of your head had you looking over your shoulder to see Gus right there. You had been looking at him a lot over dinner, still in disbelief he was here, and now he was touching you. Cheeks feel hot, and your eyes dropped momentarily to the new point of contact before shooting back up, asking, “Yeah, Gus?”

A small cock of his head in the direction of the front door, “I’m going out for an after dinner smoke, wanna join me?” 

Dear God yes. 

You and he are on the front porch two minutes later. You were both in your coats and boots, you stood next to him as he was lighting up.

It’s quiet, dark, the snow was falling slowly, it was pretty and picturesque, you think it could make for a very pretty Christmas card.

You speak up, saying honestly, “I’m glad you’re here.”

That seemed to surprise him a little, he made you wait, exhaled that first lungful of smoke out, head turning to look at you before he spoke, “Really?”

You glance over, a shrug of your shoulders, hands slipping into your pockets to shield them from the cold as you say, “Yeah. Weird as it may be. I missed you, Gus.” 

He laughed, the hand that wasn’t holding his cigarette coming up and rubbing over his forehead, “Oh my God, this family…” 

He fully turns to face you better, and you do the same as you say, “I mean it. Life has gotten a lot better since you visited. You saved their marriage, Jesse turned himself around, we haven’t seen Rose since that Christmas, everything’s just better, you did that!”

That seemed to shock him further, his expression turning thoughtful as he absorbed what you said, another inhale before responding, “No shit.”

“Yes shit!” You respond with a grin, “And Lloyd’s brother has a spine and Connie isn’t as much of a bitch, it’s crazy.” 

It’s quiet again for a moment, and you break the tension as you ask, “So, what gifts did you get for all of us?”

“I ain’t spilling. You gotta wait.” He tells you with a grin, you sigh out, “Tease.” 

“Says the one in the mini-skirt. Seriously, you didn’t know I was coming, you wear that kinda thing around your family?” He taunts, and you laugh, “So you were looking! And I look good, and you know it!” 

You speak again before he can, feeling bold from the wine earlier, you tell him, “You know you inspired a new Christmas tradition for me too.” 

“And what’s that?” He seemed curious, especially as you stepped closer, almost pressed to him, and you confess, “I might relive some old memories in the pantry after everyone else goes to bed on Christmas Eve.” 

His lips part and you made him speechless for once. You take advantage of this. Your hands reach out, fingers grip the sleeves of his jacket, and you rock forward in your boots, leaning up you press a kiss to his lips. Warmth blooms in you at the contact, you taste some of the leftover drink from dinner and the smoke, you linger in it for a moment. Your tongue passes over his bottom lip, the groan that leaves him is near inaudible, and you break away too quickly for his liking, before he can attempt to return your affection. Feet flat once more, and you tell him, “I’m interested in making some new ones if you are. After everyone else has gone to bed? Meet me in the living room.” 

You leave him out there in the snow with his half smoked cigarette, with a smear of your lip gloss on his mouth. 

When he returned he had wiped the lip gloss off but you still smiled even without the physical evidence lingering behind because at least you knew it had been there even if it was for a short time.

Dessert and coffee were good. Aunt Caroline had gotten you a nice bottle of wine, uncle Lloyd gifted you a painting for your apartment from the antique shop, Jesse had gone out of his way to frame a very nice photo he had taken of you at a family get together a while ago. You open up the gift Gus had gotten you last, a nice refillable silver zippo lighter, you click it open and light it on the first try. It had your name engraved on it, you didn’t smoke, but it was a very nice gift, and it was undeniably him. Anytime you used it, you would think of him. You thanked him sincerely.

Talking stretched for around an hour after the gifts were all opened. 

The guest room opposite yours was made up for Gus, you waited all of twenty minutes after everyone had gone to bed before scurrying downstairs to the living room.

You weren’t left waiting long. 

You hadn’t even heard him on the stairs, which makes sense, career criminal, experienced robber, of course he can move through a house a night silently without issue. He rounds the corner and comes in to see you sitting in the armchair by the fireplace. 

“Hey.” You greet quietly, and he returns it as he comes over, he walks without hurry. When he is close enough, standing over you he starts, “So when you said you relive those old memories in the pantry-”

You cut in, “I mean I have one hand over my mouth and one in my panties, I bury two fingers in my cunt and I grind my desperate clit against the palm of my hand until I cum myself stupid up against the shelving.”

You had used the time in your room to change, gotten into a robe, you untied the sash at your waist and pulled the garment open, showing off the obscene matching lace set that doesn't cover much of anything. 

You confess further, “And yes, I'm thinking of you threatening me the entire time you that I do.” 

He sits down on the couch across from your chair, and he says, “You know, you are right, it's totally different here, everyone has their shit together, not fighting all the time, it's been great, but still it's good to know that some things never change.” 

You know you are being set up but you ask, “And what hasn't changed?”

“You. Particularly you being totally depraved.” 

You laugh quietly, “I am glad I could provide some comfort of familiarity.” 

You both stare each other down for a moment, this time he breaks the silence, his tone striking a balance between intrigue and disbelief, “Have I really been your fucking masturbation fuel for the past three years?” 

You scoff, “Not the whole three years, just around the holidays, particularly when I'm here. It's impossible not to think about that night when you left such an impression.” 

He seemed very amused by the idea, he asked next, “So you said you wanted to make some new memories?” 

“Definitely.” You tell him with a confident nod and he leans back, gesturing with his hand before crossing his arms, a simple nod downwards, “Why don't you crawl on over here and show me just how much you want to.”

You do as he asked, your arms slip out of the robe as your knees hit the carpet and you start to crawl over to him. You feel excited, wondering if you are really about to do this, suck his dick in the middle of the living room, where it would be so easy for someone to walk in on and you know that yes, you are going to. 

Right in front of him you place your hands on his knees and spread them, nudging yourself between his thighs. He remained dressed, didn't bother changing as you trail your hands up, beginning to fuss with his belt, you don't have to rush the same way as before and that holds a certain element of excitement. 

You get his belt and pants open, you tug them down and soon the thick, flushed, cock that you've been lusting over this holiday season is back in your view. A lick over your lips, one hand slips off his hip and wraps around the base of his shaft, you lean in and run your tongue in a swirling motion over the head of his dick, and you hear him inhale sharply. The taste is better than you remember, salt and tang on your pallet, you hum, eyes falling closed, you sink forward, drawing the head into your mouth. You suck, flick your tongue over the tip and sink down further, a hum as you pull back again, you are losing yourself in the joy of the act of servitude when he laughs lightly, sounding just a hair out of breath.

Upon hearing this, your eyes open, you look up at him, and he asks, “Seriously? It was that easy?” 

You sit back on your knees, hand still locked on his shaft, unable to help it as you keep some stimulation going, stroking him, “What?” 

“What do you mean, what? One sentence, and you fall to your knees, mouth open.” It isn't that insulting, it's uttered slightly condescendingly but fondly, in a fashion that is very arousing.

You roll your eyes, “Gus, you’ve already come in me raw, just a few rooms over, within hours of the first time we met. I think playing hard to get is way off the fucking table.” 

He laughs louder but still subdued, aware of the late hour and how sound can carry. “Fair enough.”

You are about to ask him if he is going to let you get back to work or keep talking, but he cuts you off, a hand on the back of your head, bringing you back down. Your lips part and you take much more of him this time, engulfing him into your mouth, only minimal strain required to swallow him down, your enthusiasm and desire to please helping ease the process immensely. 

You have your lips pressed up against where your forefinger and thumb were circled around his base, you linger with him deep before pulling back. You aren't clean or quiet about it, you blow him messily, hungry, desperate to showcase the want you have for him, the desire to make him feel good and the selfish hope that he will return the favour. 

It is impossible to forget how he made you feel, made you cum so fast and hard, you want to get his cock dripping before hopefully climbing atop and riding him for all he's worth. 

The neglected space between your thighs is soaked, throbbing, silently begging for attention as you continue to fellate him, working yourself up further, your blood feels hot and your head swims. You can't help it, your hips squirm, a vague sort of grinding against the air as you suck in a weak attempt to provide yourself relief.

A few minutes tick by, of him enjoying your efforts, fingers running and twisting in your hair, the change of his breathing and the few words of encouragement and sounds of pleasure he lets out. 

He finally seems to take notice of your struggle, or at least chooses to acknowledge it, “Christ, you okay down there?” 

You pulled him out of your mouth and shook your head, “No I'm not, please help-” it didn't matter that you didn't get very many words out, you sounded so wrecked he cut you off, “Okay, okay calm down.” 

He pushes you onto your back and descends onto you, he doesn’t need to force your legs open because they fall open all on their own, and you expect to feel his dick brush up against you before he dives inside, or maybe his fingers, but you feel neither. When he dips down and his tongue makes its first pass, the air gets knocked out of your lungs, a loud and long gasp with his name on the very end of it. His head lifts enough for him to scold you, “Fuckin’ shit, can you keep it down while I do this or do I need to gag you?” 

Your eyes light up, and he rolls his eyes, but you swear the action is more fond than anything else, he says, “Yeah I should have expected that from you.” His hands work quick, your underwear is yanked down and off before he brings it up and shoves it into your mouth, the wet crotch of your panties is placed down onto your tongue and the taste of desperation fills your senses. “Now keep that in your fucking mouth, or I’ll stop, I don’t care if you're cumming your fuckin’ brains out, I. Will. Stop.” 

You give a short nod to show you heard him and agree, and he mumbled, “Good, everyone in this family is too loud.”

You never expected this, Gus is the kind of man to take, your whole meeting a few years back was predicated on that very thing, taking, stealing whatever he wanted, but perhaps you are looking at this wrong? Maybe this is a selfish act, maybe he is still taking what he wants and what you are getting out of it is coincidental, an unintended side effect, completely secondary, an afterthought. 

His tongue gives a swipe over your clit, and you inhale and hold it in your lungs for a moment, another lick and one more before you allow yourself to slowly release the air, careful to not let out a sound. The pleasure starts light, a fizzy quality like freshly poured champagne, it goes to your head the same way too. You wonder somewhere in the back of your mind when the last time he did this was as his tongue circles the sensitive and nerve dense flesh, around and around three times on the borders before licking right up and over, the process then repeated afterwards. The number of circles increases over time, drawing out more delicious anticipation before providing that direct contact that can steal your breath anew. It makes it all feel so much better, not being able to totally anticipate it, the delay only adding to your overall satisfaction. 

He changes it up further, the licks get longer, from your hole and up through your folds before focusing in on your clit again making you want to cry out. You hold yourself back even as you feel the bright burning swell of pleasure building, you are so taken by the moment, by feeling, the slight scratch of his facial hair on your inner thighs, the wetness of your arousal and his spit, his tongue sliding over every inch of your excited and swollen cunt. You then are greeted with a new sensation, his lips wrapping around your clit, the extreme slick and unbelievable heat, it feels heavenly, you feel like you could melt and become one with the rug your bare back is against. The glide of his lips, the pressure, the small flicks of his tongue on your clit in his mouth, it makes you let out a shuddering breath as your body begins to tremble, your eyes squeeze shut, and you can't help yourself, a hand slips down, and your fingers tangle in the surprisingly soft blonde strands of his hair. You don't dare pull, just hold him there, a small and silent plea to not stop as you feel your peak rapidly approaching. 

All in all he has been down there for about five minutes, and you are threatening to fall apart and cum against his tongue, again apparently when it's him he can pull an orgasm out of you with obscenely minimal effort. You are so fucking close, on the very edge, you can't help it, you need to express yourself someway and if doing it verbally is off the table, while holding his head with one hand you move your hips, grind your throbbing clit against his skilled tongue wrapped in his plush lips and the thread snaps. Your other hand locks over your panty stuffed mouth, ensuring you make no noise, your back arching as you shake, the wash of pleasure sweeps you away as you cum. Even if you can't say it, his name is still on your tongue along with your underwear, you are blown away by the strength of your orgasm, it takes a while for every pulse of pleasure to ebb away, even after you release his head and his mouth lifts, your thighs still tremble as you are rocked by the aftershocks of it. 

You feel him move, eyes peek open and he in the lights of the nearby tree his features look sharper, face half lit, his mouth shines, and he looks hungry. “Seemed like a good one.” He hums, and you nod, a small gagged sound in the affirmative leaving you 

“Yeah, well you’re fucking welcome.” You think he might have considered repositioning you, but he seems to sense your body is still not fully in your control, weak from how hard he made you cum, his cock looks heavy and flush, you can see pre-cum beaded on the tip, he clearly is done waiting and wants his own release now. 

His hands hook under your knees, and he presses them down into your chest, folding you in half, his gaze drops, he moves his hips, and you feel his tip kiss your hole, there is no lingering, as soon as he is lined up he starts to sink in. You moan behind the wad of fabric definitely too loudly, and he grits out, “Shut up.” as he continues to push into you. 

The stretch of him is incredible, especially in this position, feels even bigger, he bottoms out and you involuntarily shiver. His head tilts back, and he sighs, “God.” 

He starts to move, fucks in and out, you make a questioning sound, and he responds, a bit breathless, “You're fucking soaked, feels tighter than I remember.” 

Does he often think about those couple of years ago, like you do? You don't have long to think about it as he quickly picks up the pace, the pleasure spikes, you are very primed for this from the orgasm he gave you, he pounds into you. He is panting, if you had any sense you'd worry about the clap of skin on skin, of his hips against your ass, but it feels much too good to give a fuck. You reach out, your hands lock onto his forearms, hold tight as he rails you in such a way your tits have slipped from the cups of your bra from the intense physical movement. 

You try to soak in every moment, catalogue and lock it away, knowing after it's over you are going to have brand-new holiday top of the line masturbation material. You focus on the line of his clenched jaw, the grip of his hands under your knees, the drag of his dick against your swollen walls, it all has you weak and helpless under him. 

Your hands slip from his arms when he moves, hands letting go of the back of your knees, instead hooking your legs over his shoulders, the change in angle makes your body tense, you tighten further as every thrust hits that perfect spot inside. You can't believe it yourself when you feel yourself get close, two orgasms in such close succession? You didn't think it was quite possible, but perhaps you should just throw out everything you previously thought impossible when he is the one fucking you. 

In two minutes of him hitting that spot you are quivering, on the bleeding edge, you find out how close he is not only from the rough, sloppy nature of his uneven thrusts but by him telling you in that delectable and low tone, “I'm not pulling out.” 

That's what does it, makes the last price click into place and your whole body locks up as you cum, and you get another surprise still, your orgasm, the massive stab of ecstasy is accompanied by a gush as you squirt for the first time. He seems almost as surprised as you, the warm wetness makes him curse, hands clenched into fists, he gets another three thrusts before he is shoved totally in, holds deep and cums. The joint union of your shared orgasm seems to stretch onward, prolonged by one another, you both are heaving with the effort, a long quiet moment of just your breathing before he breaks it by saying, “Alright let's get this out of your mouth.” 

He reaches down and pulls the ruined panties out and drops them to the side, you start working your jaw, now feeling just a bit sore, before telling him, “Thanks.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” The back of his hand wipes over his forehead, and he then pulls out. You feel the flood of his cum spill out, and you let out a quiet moan at the feeling. 

“Fuck, this was my favourite present.” You confess, and he laughs, “Not surprising for a slut like you but still, you got good taste.” 

He starts to get up, and you watch him, “Gonna go out for a cigarette and then go crash.” 

“You want some company?” You ask as he is pulling up his pants, he gives you a curious look and says, “Yeah sure, you going out like that?”

“It's late, my coat is long, it'll be fine.” You snatched up your underwear and arch your hips, you pulled them on and up. They feel uncomfortably wet and cold, but hopefully they will stop his cum from leaking down your thighs. You get up and adjust the bra back into place. He is closing his pants as he says, “You fucking soaked the front of these, you know.” 

“Yeah, sorry, I honestly didn't know I could do that.” You admit, and he says, “Fuck, don't apologize it was hot, and besides, they are just pants, a run through the laundry, and it'll be fine.” 

Coats and boots were put on, and soon you were on the porch again. It was cold, but you could stand a minute of the chill, hands in your pockets. It's quiet again as he lights up, you break the silence, “You heading off tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, after breakfast. Got my business deal, and I'll be back home in time for the new year.” He tells you on an exhalation. 

You hum, a nod, you tell him, “Well it was great that you stopped by.” 

“Yeah it was a great time.” He sounds honest, he looks at you, “Maybe you could swing by sometime, you ever travel outside the states?” 

You shake your head, and he says, “Well you are majorly missing out, plus, I live alone.” 

“Oh?” You cock an eyebrow, and he says next, “Yeah. It'd be nice to fuck you sometime without having to sneak around or be quiet.” 

Sounds like you have a financial goal for the new year. 

Once his smoke was done, and you were back inside, coats and boots off, you go to get your robe from the chair in the living room, and you find the wet spot where you squirted and the flood of some of his cum spilled when he pulled out. 

It is decided that moving the ottoman over it is the best course of action before you both go upstairs to your respective guest rooms to crash, another memorable Christmas Eve complete.

[remma3760]

Consequences

Chapter 11

Summary:

Lan Qiren takes his son and nephews to the Unclean Realm while Wen Ruohan starts to impose his authority as Chief Cultivator.

Again, we know very little about the Nie parents so I have made up whatever I want. According to Wiki, Nie Mingjue's mother died and he raised Nie Huaisang's mother - a concubine - to the position of wife. Not a lot to go on, so I have filled in missing details. Names - father is Nie Jiahao, sword is Qiangda, mother is Nie Min, Nie Huaisang's birth name is Nie Ming and he is 8. Nie Mingjue is 13. By this chapter, everyone has had a bithday an are now Wei Ying - 7 Lan Zhan - 8 and Lan Xichen - 11.

Their carriage pulled up to the massive gates of the Unclean Realm, Wei Ying leaning precariously out of the window to gape at the impressive structure. Lan Qiren pulled him back in so they could get out and announce their presence. He would have preferred to fly the sword, but couldn't carry both the younger boys and wasn't comfortable with anyone else taking them. It was also a little far for Xichen, proficient as he was with his sword. 

He ushered his son and nephews through the gates while their disciples dealt with taking the carriage and horses to the stables. He could see Nie Jiahao standing with his wife and older son waiting to greet them, smiling broadly. He bellowed loudly once they got close, pointing at Lan Qiren. "Ha! You finally shaved off that ridiculous goatee. About time. Made you look like an old man."

"That was rather the point, Jiahao. I was tired of being dismissed for being 'too young.' Now that I'm raising three children I no longer feel the need. Besides, A-Ying didn't like it."

Nie Jiahao turned his gaze to the smallest boy, clinging to Lan Qiren's hand. "You got taste, kid. Good job getting rid of that eyesore."

Wei Ying bounced with pleasure, nodding. "Mnn, now. A-Die is the most handsome."

Lan Qiren could feel his face heat. "A-Ying."

"But you are, A-Die. The most handsome. Isn't he, Lan Zhan?"

"Mn. Shufu is most handsome." 

Nie Min knelt in front of Wei Ying, beckoning him closer so she could hold his hands. "Your A-Die is very handsome, A-Ying. And so are you, little One."

Wei Ying giggled. He liked her. 

A small voice piped up. "But Mama, what about Baba? Don't you think Baba is most handsome?" Wei Ying looked around for the source of the voice but at first could see no-one. The, the top of a small head poked out from behind Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue huffed, raising his arm so they could all now see the small boy dangling from his sleeve. "This is my annoying Didi, A-Ming." 

Nie Ming wailed as he was shaken about by his brother. "Mama, Mama, Dage is bullying me."

Nie Jiahoa laughed, holding out his arms. "Here, A-Jue, to me."

Swinging his arm back, Nie Mingjue tossed his small brother to his father, who instantly lifted Nie Ming onto his shoulders. 

Wei Ying was open mouthed. He had never seen anyone behave like this before and was enjoying himself immensely. He stared up at Nie Ming. "You're so high."

Nie Ming nodded down at him. "I know. My Baba is big."

"He is," Wei Ying agreed. "You are. Very big."

"And you're very small."

"I am, but I'll grow. Your sword is huge."

"Saber."

Wei Ying was confused.

"Qiangda is a saber. They're the traditional weapon of Nie cultivators. Would you like to see?"

Wei Ying nodded enthusiastically so Nie Jiahao put his son down and drew his saber to show the interested boys. Wei Ying oohed and ahhed in appreciation, nudging Lan Zhan to make sure he was included. "Look, Lan Zhan, see how big. How many people can you fit on at once, Nie Zongzhu?"

Nie Jiahao chuckled at Wei Ying. "Do you know, I've never tried that. I could get all you children on easily if you wanted a ride. Do you want to try."

They did. Wei Ying nodded, clutching at Lan Zhan's hand in excitement. 

Lowering the saber, Nie Jiahao stepped on, lifting Nie Ming on next to him before gesturing that Wei Ying and Lan Zhan should climb on. As soon as they were in place, he rose slowly and began to circle the yard. He gradually increased his speed and was soon swooping around to the delight of all three boys. Finally, dropping lower, Nie Jiahao tipped the children off the saber, Nie Ming and Wei Ying falling into the dust, rolling around and squealing. Lan Zhan, of course, landed on his feet with perfect grace and poise. He bowed to Nie Jiahao. "Thank-you. That was enjoyable."

The big man gave a bark of laughter. "Qiren, are you sure your boy is only Seven, and not a short fifty year old?"

"I am eight."

"Oh, well, if you're eight."

"Husband, you shouldn't be keeping our guests standing out in the sun. Pleas, come, there are refreshments prepared, then we can talk."

***

"This is my room. Look. There are my toys. There are my books, and I keep my clothes here."

"Ooh, it's big. I share with Lan Zhan but I have my own bed and my own trunk to keep my toys and special things in. I like sharing with Lan Zhan because if I have bad dreams he's right there and he sings to me so I don't be scared anymore."

"Mn. Will keep Wei Ying safe," Lan Zhan agreed.

"That sounds nice. My Dage sleeps through there," Nie Ming pointed to a door in the far wall, "so if I get scared I can go and sleep with Dage. Or I can shout really loud and he will come to me."

Nie Mingjue huffed from where he sat with Lan Xichen, putting on a high pitched voice, "Dage, I want a glass of water. Dage, I can't find my doll. Dage, I'm cold, I'm hot, I can't sleep. Dage Dage Dage. I should just tie you up an gag you when you go to bed."

"Dage! You wouldn't."

"No, but I should. Now find something to play with so I can talk to Xichen in peace."

Insulted, Nie Ming pulled out some paper and paints. Wei Ying was impressed. "That's a lot of colours."

"Yes. I have all the colours. Dage brought them back for me after his last night hunt. We can draw, or read or play tea party."

"I like drawing. Lan Zhan, do you want to draw, too?"

"I will read." He chose an interesting looking book and settled on a cushion as Nie Ming and Wei Ying chatted about the masterpieces they would create.

***

Nie Mingjue watched the boys for a minute. "How do you like having a cousin, Xichen?" 

"Mingjue, he's so sweet. Easy to love. Everything's been so much better since he came. A-Zhan has been happier too. He was so quiet and sad after Mother died, but now he smiles and plays and even lets me hug him. It's wonderful."

"I'm glad. We've heard the rumours, even here. Is it true that Madam Yu nearly killed Wei Ying with Zidian?"

Lan Xichen was hesitant. was it gossiping to tell his friend what he knew?

"Come on, Xichen. It's not gossip if it's true. Tell me."

"Well, I wasn't in Lotus Pier so I don't know exactly what happened there, but I have never seen Shufu as angry as he was when he came back. And poor little A-Ying was in the infirmary for weeks. I did hear Lan Baojie say that if she had hit him only one more time he would have died."

"So your little brother saved his life? That's brave. I've met Madam Yu and she's terrifying. And A-Zhan is so small. To think, he had the courage to stand up to her like that."

"I know. Mingjue, A-Zhan is so good. He doesn't even think it's brave. It's not for show, like with some people. Justice matters to him. For him, Madam Yu was being unfair so it was his duty to point that out."

"I wish I could have seen that."

"Me too."

"Is Wei Ying really Baoshen Sanren's grandson? Did you get to meet her?"

"Yes, and yes. She showed up just before the adoption. Mingjue, she didn't even know that Cangse Sanren was dead or that she had an orphaned grandchild. No-one had told her. Her own daughter and she didn't know."

"That's bad. Was she angry?"

"Not with us. She was glad Shufu was adopting A-Ying and taking care of him."

"I can't believe you've met an Immortal. What's she like?"

"She's...fun."

"Fun?"

"Yes, she really is. She plays with A-Ying and A-Zhan, and she tells the best stories. If it was anyone else it would seem like boasting, but with her it's just how she is. She sat and talked cultivation with me for hours. Mingjue, she knew Lan An. Actually knew him. I've heard so many stories about him and he always seemed so intimidating but when she talked about him he felt real. He felt like someone I could be friends with. Knowing he was sometimes uncertain too, well, it made me less scared of having to be sect leader one day."

"She sounds awesome."

"She is. She lets us call her Laolao."

"Even you?"

"Yes. A-Ying, obviously and of course he asked if A-Zhan could too, so then when I got there she said I might as well call her Laolao too."

"Wow. You have an Immortal Laolao. You're so lucky."

"I know. So many things are changing because of her. She was the one who suggested revising the rules, going back to the basics as Lan An intended."

"I heard that. It's a relief I won't have to learn all those thousands of rules when I come to the lectures."

"You'll have to meet the bunnies then, too."

"You have pets now?"

"No, not pets. They're wild and just showed up one day. Something to do with Laolao, but I'm not sure how. They love A-Zhan and have come to tolerate A-Ying but completely ignore everyone else. It's so funny. Other disciples have been to the meadow to try and tempt them with treats, but the bunnies refuse to have anything to do with them. But just let Lan Zhan step foot on thr grass, and they swarm him, jumping up and trying to get his attention. The minute he sits down they're fighting to be in his lap, and A-Zhan just takes it all as his due. He's like their rabbit Emperor."

Nie Mingjue could picture it. The composed little boy ruling over his fluffy minions. He was still laughing when they were called for dinner. 

***

Lan Qiren watched the children go as he sipped his tea. It was a little bitter for his taste, but good tea nonetheless. Once the boys were gone, he turned back to his hosts, surprised that Nie Jiahao was fidgeting. That wasn't like him; he was usually so direct. Something must have happened. "Jiahao? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, well, maybe. Not sure. First, why don't you tell me why you chose to visit now?"

"Partly I wanted you to meet my A-Ying. He's finally settling so I thought it might be time to introduce him to his peers. I suspected he would get along with Nie Ming, which seems to be the case."

"Well, I hope so. A-Ming could use some friends his own age. You said partly?"

Lan Qiren paused, reaching to stroke his goatee which of course was no longer there. "Jiahao, how much do you know about the Yin Iron?"

"Don't tell me that abomination has emerged again? I thought it had been suppressed permanently."

"For almost a century, yes. Not permanently. We had a shard at Cloud Recesses, bound by strong wards and guarded by Lan Yi."

"Hasn't Lan Yi been dead for decades?"

"Ah, well, what we believed to be only the remnants of Lan Yi's spirit turned out to be rather more solid that we expected. Baoshen Sanren sensed her presence. They are old friends, apparently. The upshot is, Lan Yi was transported to the Celestial Mountain where her spirit can fully heal and Baoshen Sanren took our shard of Yin Iron and went to hunt down the rest. I have heard from her. She has it all and intends to destroy it as soon as possible."

"That's good, right? Why are you still worried?"

"She also sent a warning. To be wary of Wen Ruohan."

"Hah! Don't need her to tell me that. I haven't trusted that man in years. Why did we even elect him as Chief Cultivator?"

"Because you and I didn't want it, and he was better than Jin Guangshan or Jiang Fengmian."

"True. Low, low bar. So anyway, about Wen Ruohan."

Nie Jiahao was fidgeting again. This was not good. "Jiahao, what have you done?"

"Nothing. It wasn't my fault. I'm not even sure what's going on."

"Just tell him, Husband." 

"Right yes. Well, I got a summons from Wen Ruohan. Very strange. Someone gave him a saber and then someone else suggested mine was more impressive. So now he wants to examine Qiangda. Sounds crazy, right? I thought it was a joke at first, but no. He's serious."

Lan Qiren was staring at him. It really was quite bizarre. "He wants you to go to Nightless City to compare sabers?"

Nie Min had been laughing behind her sleeve but now was openly cackling. "Lan Qiren, who would have though you would make such a joke."

Puzzled, Lan Qiren reviewed what he had said. What joke? "What joke?"

Nie Jiahao, too, was howling with laughter. "Compare sabers. With anyone else that would be a euphemism for you know what."

A euphemism? Lan Qiren was so confused. He most certainly did not know what. "But isn't that what he wants to do? How is that funny?"  

His confusion only brought more peals of laughter until finally, Nie Jiahao was able to get himself under control. He dabbed at his eyes, shaking his head. "Maybe it's better you don't know, Qiren. But anyway, that wasn't what I wanted to bring up with you. I think I may have landed you in some trouble."

"How? I don't have a saber."

That set them both off again so Lan Qiren decided on another bun while they calmed down. 

"I'm fine, I'm fine. See, the thing is, Qiren. I didn't want to go. So I told him sorry, but I was expecting a visit from you so we could meet your adopted son and now he's annoyed that you haven't taken the boy to meet him. Oops."

Lan Qiren was not happy at having Wei Ying brought to the attention of Wen Ruohan, but it was done now. "So what does he want?"

"You're to come with me and bring the boys so he can meet them."

"All of them?"

"No, only Wei Ying and Lan Zhan." 

"Why A-Zhan?"

"Didn't say. He must have heard the rumours of how little Lan Zhan thwarted the evil Madam of Lotus Pier in her attempt to murder the grandson of an Immortal. There's a song about it."

"There is not. Is there?"

"There is. Also an epic poem and a play in the works."

"Gods. I had hoped it would blow over."

"Not a chance. Way too good of a story."

Lan Qiren shook his head. So much drama. Well, nothing could be done about it now. They would simply have to go and hope for the best. 

***

I hope it's not just me who knows what sabers can be a euphemism for. I just thought it was funny that Lan Qiren would make a sex joke and not even know it.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Lifelong: 20 years

summary: an impromptu trip across the country to take care of aaron.

pairing: fem!reader x aaron hotchner

content: unrequited love, guilt, angst, sadness, fluff if you squint kind of?

an: aaron is soooo baby in this one. okay my friends we’re close to the end here, hearts will be mended soon. next part is massive <3

word count: 1k

series masterlist | masterlist

When Aaron calls you for the second time this week you know that’s something’s up. The two of you have a weekly call that’s already been had and you’re still at work. In fact, he’s still at work.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been served.”

“Divorce papers?” You can’t say you’re not shocked.

You know that they’ve been separated, you know that Haley’s wanted more but you always imagined that they’d work it out. They’ve been Aaron and Haley to you for so long that you’re not sure what a world looks like without them together, though your mind goes to selfish places immediately.

“Yeah.”

“Aaron, I’m so sorry. What do you need? What can I do?”

“I…” You hear shuffling on his end of the phone and can imagine him running a hand through his hair, “I don't know.”

“That’s okay. It’s okay to not know,” You have to say it because he’s not okay with that. He likes to know things, feels like he has to but you want him to just stop thinking about fixing everything for a moment. “Do you have any idea when the next case is?”

“I don’t know, we just got back from one.”

“Put in the time,” You say, switching tabs on your computer to look up a last-minute flight. It wouldn’t get you there until after midnight because of the time difference in Seattle, but it’ll do.

“It’s too late for-“

“You’re the boss. Put in the time.”

“I couldn’t ask you to waste your yearly visit on this.”

“You didn’t ask, it’s not a waste, and you’re my best friend.”

“Are you sure?”

“You just have to tell me how many days you’re putting in for so I can do the same.”

“3.”

It takes just a few clicks of a button to get your trip set up. You send an email to your boss citing a family emergency, “The flight’s booked, you’ll pick me up?”

“I’ll be there.”

He meant that in the most literal sense. When you arrive he's standing at the gate, looking down at his phone with that slight frown that's become his face’s resting place.

“You didn’t have to do your FBI privilege thingy,” You say as he embraces you tightly.

“I didn’t want you walking through here this late by yourself,” He murmurs before letting you go.

“There’s hardly anybody here,” You reply, gesturing around to the quiet airport.

“My point exactly,” He holds his hand out for your bag. There's no reason to argue with him and you hand it over with no protest. He transfers it smoothly to his far hand before offering his arm to you. Again, with no protest, you slip your arm into his and the two of you walk to his car that’s parked with airport staff.

“You know they built one of those burger joints from home here,” He says once the two of you are off the airport’s grounds.

“Fries do sound good. Have you been since they opened?”

“No, I was saving it for when you came into town.”

“Then take me, Hotchner.”

He reaches over to pinch your thigh playfully, “You don’t call me that.”

“I was trying to get a rise out of you. It worked. Predictable as always Aaron Hotchner.”

He rolls his eyes, and fiddles with the radio, turning on the oldies station you always listen to. It’s warm in Virginia still so you let down the window, and stick your feet out, resting your head on his shoulder while he orders the food. When you try to stick your hand in the bag he swats it away, and you pout the whole way home.

You feel 17 again eating burgers and greasy french fries on his couch. You talk about everything but Haley and the divorce. He’s somehow managed to give you every detail about his visits with Jack without even mentioning her name. All you can do is hold him close when his voice gets thick with tears. He doesn’t let them fall, but he gets to a point where he has to stop talking. He clings to you, listening to the sound of your breathing until he slips into a slumber.

His soft snore makes you smile and for a moment you let yourself bask in it. You let yourself imagine waking up to it, to this, him lying on your chest with his arms wrapped around you every day. The guilt comes quickly. Haley has always been kind to you, and always supported your friendship with him. Though you love Aaron with all of you, you can’t blame her for leaving him. Regardless, you’ll always be here to pick up the pieces because he’s yours, just not in the way you long for.

Eventually, you try to move to get cleaned up but his grip on you tightens, even in his sleep.

“Aaron,”

“Don’t, please, let’s just stay here,” He mumbles sleepily, his eyes barely opening.

“I just wanna clean up and then we can go lay down,” You pull away again and he looks up at you again with wide eyes. That sadness that you hadn’t seen since his wedding day is there and it makes your heartbreak. “Just let me throw this in the trash, stay right there, I’m not going anywhere.”

He nods and releases you, and you get your trash cleaned up and in the bin in record timing. He uses his bathroom to get dressed for bed, and you use Jack’s before heading into his room to lay down. He joins you shortly, facing away from you. You scooch across the bed, pressing into his back before throwing your arm over his side. Thinking he’s about to fall back to sleep, you close your eyes in an attempt to join him, though every cell in your body is standing at alert from being so affectionate with him.

“Do you think it was always meant to end like this? That I wasn’t made to be happy?” His voice startles you and he runs his hand over yours in apology.

“Hush, you’ll be happy again. You’ll be okay. We’ll make sure of it.”

“Promise?”

“Of course.”

“You’re always here. Thank you,” He leans further into you, and you curl your chin around his shoulder as he knots your fingers together.

“Always, Aaron.”

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[rek1s-headband]

Break up prank on the sk8 boys

➯ Characters: Reki Kyan, Langa Hasegawa, Cherry, Joe, Miya and Shadow x gn reader

➯ Warnings: none, just some angst to fluff. Enjoy!

Reki:

He thought it was a joke at first

Like you, he watched his fair share of videos, and had seen the trend going around already

But you weren’t discouraged, you were going to try and make him believe it no matter what

He laughed it off the first time, but after you simply gave him a puzzled look and a “huh?”, he felt his heart pick up significantly. Maybe you weren’t joking??

Instantly he was running back in his mind where he could’ve possibly gone wrong, where he could’ve messed up so badly that you felt the need to leave?

After his nervous laugh died down, he went deadly silent

“You’re serious?”

You were starting to feel awful, like maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all, but you decided to persist

When you nodded your head slowly, you could’ve died when you saw how quickly his face dropped

Even though he had a small smile on his face, you could see the tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. He was running a shaky hand through his hair, and when you were ready to take him into your arms, to tell him you were only kidding, he wouldn’t let you get a word in edgeways

A flood of questions was suddenly leaving his moth, all his unvoiced questions coming out in one go. He was holding your hand now in an almost death grip, asking you why you were unhappy, why you wanted to leave

Why he wasn’t good enough for you

That’s all you needed before you were pulling him into your arms, sobbing yourself. This shut him up, he was completely speechless as your tears pooled on his shoulder, telling him you were so sorry, that you were only joking. You just wanted to see him get a little panicky, you never expected the outcome to look like this

As soon as the words left your mouth you saw his shoulders visibly drop, pulling you impossibly closer as he let the last of his tears out. He chuckled shakily, running a hand up your back.

“I thought I lost you for a second there”

That was when you pulled your head out of his shoulder, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling him closer to you. Eyes wide, he simply watched as you declared he could never lose you, that you weren’t going anywhere. You were stuck to him like glue, whether he likes it or not

He gave you one last relieved smile, before he was pulling you close again for a desperate kiss. He kissed you like it was the last time he ever would, because now that he’d thought he lost you, he was never going to take anything about you for granted again

Langa:

Was fully convinced you were serious right off the bat

Right as the words “I think we should break up” were leaving your lips, his brain was doing overtime trying to figure put how he hadn’t realised how unhappy you were. Sure, he was kind of bad at reading emotions, but surely he wasn’t so terrible he couldn’t figure out how his own s/o was feeling?

Was he really as bad at communication as people told him he was?

You instantly regretted your decision as you watched his mouth hang open, saw his eyes scrunch slightly as he wrung his hands quietly at his sides

He nodded, and you couldn’t seem to swallow the lump in your throat as your eyes locked on the small tear rolling down his cheek, which he quickly wiped away with a small smile

“If thats what will make you happy”

You couldn’t seem to collect your thoughts as you watched him step closer to you, dropping his head to your level as he grabbed your hand. It was soft, as if he didn’t want to hurt you any more than he thought he had. He stumbled over his words, trying to find the right ones to say. Eventually he just took a deep breath, and looked into your eyes

“Were you really that unhappy?” Your heart broke when you heard the crack in his voice towards the end. “How did I not notice how sad you were?” Tears were falling down his face again and he didn’t even bother wiping them away this time. Suddenly you were shooting forward, grabbing his shoulders as you began to cry

“You’ve never made me unhappy Langa, not once.” You saw his wide eyes stare at you, not even attempting to reply as he watched you continue. “It was a joke, Langa. I wanted to see how you’d react, I didn’t think you’d take it this seriously. Did you really think you made me unhappy? Ive never been happier than when I’m with you-“ you barely got to finish before he was wrapping you in his arms, his grip vicelike. His face was digging into your shoulder, clinging to you as if you’d disappear any second.

His breath was ragged and shaky as he pulled you even closer, making sure there was absolutely no room for you to escape. You ran your hand through his hair in an attempt to calm him down as he slowly emerged from your shoulder

With a small chuckle, he rubbed the side of your face with his hand, letting his head drop slightly as he let out a sigh of relief

“I really thought I was ignoring my own s/o’s feelings.” You laughed, pulling him into another hug

“If I’m ever upset, I’ll let you know. Just know it wont be for quite a while” you grinned, grabbing his collar to pull him into a kiss. It was sweet, and gentle, and you felt all your previous problems melt away as Langa pulled you closer, smiling into the kiss

Cherry:

You and Kaoru rarely fought, and when you did it was over minor things that were reconciled within a day. So when you were sitting him down, asking if he’d be okay with breaking up, the only thing he could feel was complete confusion.

What happened? You’d always been so happy, never expressing much discontent. And besides, whenever you did it was resolved as soon as possible. What was so different today?

What was making you so unhappy that you felt the relationship was beyond saving?

Or worse, what outside your relationship was making you happier than him?

He kept these thoughts to himself, coughing quietly to try and open up his throat that seemed to be impossibly tight at that moment. He held your hand, stroking it softly and nodding before looking up at you

“Why the sudden change of heart, hm?”

The small smile on Kaoru’s face that was slowly diminishing by the second made you want to melt into the ground. Even when you were asking him to leave, he was still so caring, still so loving. You could only watch, feeling your heart break as he looked at you, his eyes glassy as he quickly plastered the fakest smile you’ve ever seen onto his face

“Well, if you’re unhappy when you’re with me, surely we shouldn’t be together.” He let out a small, breathy laugh that was almost missed by you, if you hadn’t been watching him with such avid horror. “I dont know why you feel you aren’t happy anymore, sweetheart, but I’m glad you realised what you want.” You watched him stand without a word, as you slowly realised that this is real.

He thinks this is real

That was all you needed before you were leaping off the couch, practically turning it over with the force you’d pushed off it. You were shouting his name, grabbing him by the arm and absolutely dragging him to face you. With the sudden turn and shock, you both ended up on the floor as you began to babble, words pouring out of your mouth and tears streaming from your eyes

“Kaoru, of course I’m not unhappy, you always know just how to make me happy, I could never leave you!” You were jumping on top of him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he sat up, a hand on your back and the other pulling your hair back from your face, trying to find any trace of a lie on your face

“Are you serous? It was all...” he was speechless. He didn’t realise you would even pull something like that, much less go so far with it

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” you sobbed. “I never meant for it to go this far. I just wanted to see you get a little worked up, pull a funny prank, nothing else, i prom-“ you were cut off when Kaoru pushed his lips onto yours, breath shaky as he ran his hand through your hair, as if you were going to disappear any second and he was making sure you were still there

When you finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours, letting out a small laugh

“Don’t ever pull that shit again”

Joe:

When you first brought it up with him, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Surely you weren’t serious, right?

He kept a smile quirked on his lips, a questioning look in his eyes. Still, you kept a face of steel, as if challenging him to ask if you were joking

As worried as he was, he wasn’t sure you were being serious. Something about it wasn’t..genuine? You looked too straight-faced, your expression staying neutral the whole time as if to not give something away. He was certain he hadn’t done enough to make you this delighted about breaking up, so why were you so unaffected?

The cogs were turning in his brain, all arrows pointing towards one of two directions: either he was a massive dick, or it was a prank

Oh. A prank

Of course, he wasn’t certain, but it would certainly explain quite a bit

So he decided on a plan. It wasn’t exactly the nicest thing to do, but if it was a prank, it was a nice way for him to get you back for the little skit you pulled. And if it wasn’t a prank, well, maybe it’ll take the sting away a little

His mouth quickly dropped to a frown, ready to put his plan into action. “Oh yeah? Well, thats a bit of a relief.” He had to try hard to hide his grin when he saw your eyebrows furrow, saw the frown begin to spread across your face. So maybe it was a prank. You could only watch as he continued his speech

“You see, I’ve been thinking about ending things for a while now. There was a girl at S I met a few weeks back, and man, you should’ve seen the eyes she’s been giving me. Anyways, I’ve taken a real liking to her, and Ive been thinking about giving things with her a shot. Of course, now it shouldn’t be a bother, right?”

When he saw your face contort from confusion to anger, he knew he’d fucked up severely. Suddenly you were getting up close to his face, prank forgotten, poking him in the chest as you began to shout

“Are you serious!? After all we’ve been through together, you’re just gonna leave me for some bitch you met a few weeks ago??” You were fuming at this point, while Joe watched you with with a look of mock confusion

“What’s your problem? You were the one who wanted to “break up”, right?” Something about the way he said ‘break up’ made you freeze, looking up at him as you watched a grin begin to form on Joe’s face. That bastard

“You...you asshole!” You were lost for words. He knew this whole time? And instead of enlightening you, he decided to play along? You watched with a blank expression as Joe laughed, pulling you into a hug

“I knew it” he let out a loud laugh, but it almost seemed forced. You pulled away, and when you tried to look at him his eyes seemed to be everywhere but you. You grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at you

“You didn’t think id actually want to break up, did you?” When he simply frowned, pulling his eyes away again you cooed, pulling him into your chest as you stroked his hair, feeling his arms slowly wrap around your waist and hold you close

It’s safe to say the two of you stayed like that for quite a while

Shadow:

When you asked him to break up as a joke, you simply wanted to see if you could piss him off. Hiromi was prone to getting mad at the smallest things, cursing up a storm when he did something as small as mess up his makeup

So when you saw his face break, felt him shrink in on himself as he asked you why, what had he done that made you want to leave, your face was frozen with shock

Now this was completely new. Of course, you knew Hiromi wasn’t just some big angry man, but you didn’t think he’d get this worked up

Brows furrowed, he brought a hand to his forehead as he let out a long breath

“What happened?” Those two words held so much emotion it almost made you break. You didn’t realise how much this would affect him, just how upset it would make him. But here he was, an emotional wreck as he wiped an almost-tear away from the edge of his eye

But soon after, he was stepping close to you, grabbing your hand and looking at you with all the sincerity in the world

“Please, give me another chance. I dont know what I did, but I do know we can fix it. I know we can, please y/n. I cant lose you”

His heartfelt speech was all you needed for the tears to slowly fall from your eyes, Hiromi looking at you with a look of concern, and confusion. You were stepping into his arms, crying silently as he hesitantly put his arms around you, not quite sure what to do. So was that a yes?

You picked your head off his shoulder, not moving from his arms

“Oh, Hiromi” he looked down at you, concern washing over his face once more. “It was only a prank, I’m so sorry.”

Now he wasn’t just upset, but relieved. A bit of anger was in there somewhere, but that could be overlooked for now. He let out a loud laugh, hugging you so tightly you could’ve sworn you felt at least 3 of your ribs break

“And what made you think that was a funny thing to do?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, not letting you out of his death grip. You simply shrugged, burying yourself deeper into his chest. He smiled, his knees practically buckling after the whole ordeal

He held you at arms length, a frown on his face. You felt a twinge of panic, maybe he wouldn’t forgive you?

This thought was quickly forgotten when he barked out a loud laugh. He dropped his face to your level, putting his hands on your shoulders

“Pull something like that again, and I swear you’ll give me a heart attack”

Miya:

Miya has never been one for properly expressing his emotions, so when you walked up to him one day and asked him to break up, he simply frowned. He didn’t let it on, but his world was very quickly caving in around him

Keeping a neutral expression, he sighed and nodded his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak right now

When you gave him a confused look from his lack of a verbal response, he really had to try to not walk out of that room there and then. You break up with him, and then expect him to just take it and walk away with a smile??

When you continued to look at him expectantly, he just let out a breath, turning away from you. “Fine. Whatever. If thats really what you want then so be it” he was kicking himself for being so blunt, but what other choice did he have? He couldn’t think, his lungs felt too small, too cramped

And now you were going to leave just like everyone else had

You tried to put your hand on his shoulder, calling his name quietly. He simply shrugged you off, dipping his head so you wouldn’t see the tears that were quickly collecting in his eyes. You’d just dumped him, the last thing he needed was you seeing him cry. You didn’t give up, asking him why he wouldn’t just look at you. Still not facing you, he attempted to talk again

“What more is there to discuss? You want to leave, so go. I’m not going to stop you if its what you want.” The crack in his voice at the end of his sentence broke your heart, and you were quickly turning him around, with more force this time, so he was forced to look you in the eyes

“Do you really think I’d leave that easily? It was a prank, you dumbass.” His head was buzzing with thoughts, why the hell would you do that? So you dont actually want to leave? You’re still gonna stay with him? You-

His thoughts were interrupted by you flicking his forehead. His hands flew to his head, letting out a cry. First you pretend to dump him, and now you have the audacity to flick him?

However, it did serve its purpose of pulling him out of his thoughts, and you were quickly pulling him into a hug while you stroked his hair. Before long you felt your shoulder grow wet with tears, the occasional sniffle leaving him. You laughed, holding him close as you tilted his chin to look at you

“I’m not going anywhere, as much as you might like me to. You’re stuck with me for a while longer, Miya Chinen.” He looked away from you, clicking his teeth

“Shut up..” he was mumbling, but there was so mistaking how hard he was gripping your clothes, as if you might try to leave again. But like you said, you weren’t going anywhere for quite some time

[storiesforallfandoms]

vulnerable ~ captain jack sparrow;pirates of the caribbean

word count: 1845

request?: yes!

“♥️Hi, I wanted to request something for Jack Sparrow if that's okay? So, I was watching potc dead man's chest, and noticed how at the end where Elizabeth kisses him, Jack is so soft and gentle with her, he barely moves, he looks so vulnerable and small, it touched my heart. So I wanted to ask something like that, where when the reader first kisses him he's surprised and vulnerable, maybe never thought she would like him back. something with angst, an emotional Jack, but a happy ending, thanks <3″

description: in which he becomes vulnerable when she kisses him and admits her feelings for him

pairing: jack sparrow x female!reader

warnings: swearing, an attack that leads to a sinking ship

masterlist (one, two)

If there’s one side of Captain Jack Sparrow that was never shown, it was his vulnerable side.

Being vulnerable only got you one thing when you were a pirate, and that was killed. You had to be tough as a pirate, especially as an infamous captain. Sure, Jack had his less than serious moments, but no one saw that softer side of him. He wouldn’t let anyone see it as long as he lived.

Until (Y/N) joined the crew.

She had stowed away on the Black Pearl the last time they were docked. Pintel and Ragetti had found her hidden among the barrels of rum below deck. They brought her to Jack, expecting their captain to throw the stowaway into the water and leave her for dead.

“I’m not trying to steal!” she insisted. “I was just trying to get away. Please, I can be of some use. If you don’t want me here, I’ll depart when you find land next. You’ll never see me again.”

Jack studied their stowaway. She was small and he could see in her eyes that she had definitely had a hard life wherever she had come from. She wasn’t a threat, and he felt like he wanted to protect her.

“She’s not a threat,” he decided. “She can stay.”

Captain Jack Sparrow had a way with the ladies, everyone knew this. He could get under the skirt of almost any woman he wanted just with a few sweet nothings whispered in their ear. But what he felt for (Y/N) was different. He found his chest would warm whenever she was around, and he’d easily get tongue tied.

He wanted to vocalize these feelings to her, but every time he tried he would chicken out. Instead he would find some way to open himself to (Y/N) more, to show her the side no one else ever saw. In return, (Y/N) told Jack all about herself, and they became the only two people on the Black Pearl to know so much about one another.

Then came the day of the attack.

They were sailing on a beautiful day. Not a single cloud in the sky, nor anything in their sights. (Y/N) was stood at the bow, watching as the Black Pearl peacefully move through the calm water.

“Peaceful days scare me,” she said, startling Jack who had been approaching her.

“How did you know I was here?” he asked.

She looked at him over her shoulder and smiled. “I just knew.”

He stepped up onto the bow next to her. “Why do peaceful days scare you?”

“They are so few and far between that I always expect the worst to happen,” she explained. “Either the weather is bad, or something bad is happening. We have yet to have such a calm and peaceful day.”

“Maybe we’re just lucky today.”

(Y/N) looked up at him with a skeptical look. “Maybe.”

They were silent then, but it was a comfortable silence. Jack looked over at (Y/N), who was now gazing out over the water. The breeze blew her hair slightly, giving Jack a better look at her face. Despite her feelings on peaceful days, her face looked relaxed and at peace in that moment.

Jack’s mouth moved before his brain could comprehend what he was doing. “(Y/N).”

She looked up at him. “Yes Jack?”

He opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by Gibbs shouting. “Captain! Enemies along the horizon!”

Jack and (Y/N) shared a look before racing for the wheel where Gibbs had been standing. Jack took the telescope from his first made and looked through it at the oncoming ship.

“Not necessarily an enemy ship, Gibbs,” Jack said, trying to zero on the flag the ship was flying but was unable to get a good look at it. “Might just be someone else sailing today.”

But then the sound of a cannon rang out and the water beside the Black Pearl shook violently.

“Shit,” Jack hissed. “Get to the cannons! Return fire!”

“Is that a good idea, Jack?” (Y/N) asked. “They’re so far away, we’ll be wasting ammo.”

“We have to show them we aren’t going down without a fight,” Jack declared.

His men loaded the cannons and fired back at the ship. The giant masses landed just inches from the enemy ship, causing the water around it to build up in massive waves and disrupt the ship’s course.

“Again!” Jack called. “Just one more this time!”

As they fired another shot at the ship, another cannonball landed in the water next to them as well. Anyone above deck was thrown to the ground as the ship tilted due to the waves.

“Jack, we have to retreat!” (Y/N) insisted as she tried to get to her feet.

“There’s no retreat,” Jack said. “They’re advancing on us fast. By the time we even turn to get away, they’d be on us.”

“Well what do we do then?”

The next cannonball hit the ship directly, putting a massive hole in the side of it. The Black Pearl began to sink into the water began to fill the deck.

“Abandon ship!” Jack called. “Go to everyone below deck and make sure anyone who can be saved is saved! Abandon ship and swim to the nearest land or boat you can find!”

He turned to (Y/N). There was so much fear in her eyes and she looked close to tears. Jack cupped her face in his hands, trying to remain calm himself.

“Find land, get help,” he told her. “For yourself, don’t look back for us.”

“No!” she exclaimed. “If I get anywhere, I’ll be sending the first boat back looking for you and the others.”

“We’re pirates, (Y/N). No one will care about us. No one will want to save us.”

“I will want to, and I will save you.”

Before Jack could argue further, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Every ounce of fear or worry slowly dissolved then and Jack relaxed into the kiss. He put one hand on the back of her head while holding her body close to his with the other. They were so lost in one another that they didn’t realize the entire front of the ship was submerged in water until Gibbs called out for them again.

(Y/N) pulled away first. Jack gently caressed her face, his face mirroring the fear in her own. Except he wasn’t afraid of the enemy ship or the attack; he was afraid of never seeing her again.

“I will find you,” he promised.

(Y/N) nodded. “I will find you, too.”

The two of them jumped ship as another cannonball landed next to the sinking ship. (Y/N) reached for Jack, who had been next to her moments before, but found herself thrown around in the chaos of the sinking ship and the still attacking enemies. She tried to open her eyes to look for Jack, but the water stung so bad she was unable to see.

She broke through the water a few times, but continued to be shoved back down by the crewmates or by the force of the sinking ship. Finally, she began to swim away as fast as her body could take her. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she knew she had to get away before the Black Pearl took her down with it.

(Y/N) swam and swam until her arms and legs grew too tired to swim anymore. When she was finally far enough away from the chaos, she broke through the water and inhaled the fresh air into her lungs. She could no longer see either ship, or her crewmates. She wasn’t sure if she had swam away that far that she couldn’t see them, or if they had all gone down with their beloved ship as well.

Her body ached, but she did everything she could to stay above water. There were no signs of land or another boat anywhere. Not even any debris for her to float on. Just water as far as the eye could see. (Y/N) felt a lump grow in her throat and all she wanted to do was cry. She had lost the people she cared most about, she had lost the place she considered home. She had lost Jack.

(Y/N) was floating for some time when another boat sailing through the water spotted her. They got close enough that one of their members could reach into the water and pull her out. She nearly sobbed with relief when her tired body was able to relax against the ship’s floor.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” one of the crew members asked, kneeling down to peer into (Y/N)’s face. “Have you been hurt?”

She shook her head sheepishly, still regaining her energy. “I...I was on a-on a ship. We were...we were attacked.”

“Another from the shipwreck!” the crewmate called. He turned back to (Y/N) to add, “We’ve rescued a number of your crewmates, they’re all below deck receiving any medical attention they may need.”

It took a moment for his words to get through her head. When they did, she jumped up as fast as she could and made her way below deck. Many familiar faces were sat together or laying in the beds provided, but not the familiar face she was looking for. (Y/N)’s heart squeezed with sadness as she desperately looked for Jack among her saved crewmates.

She tried not to let her disappointment show as a call was heard from above ship. “We’ve got another! Says he’s the captain!”

(Y/N) turned to watch as the crewmates brought Jack down below ship, his hair and clothes clinging to him from the water. She contained herself for just a moment, waiting to see if Jack needed any medical attention. When his eyes locked on her, however, he broke free from the grasp of the crewmates and ran to her, taking her in his arms and kissing her deeply, there in front of all of his men.

“I thought I lost you,” he breathed between kisses.

“I thought I had lost you as well,” she responded. “When I came down and didn’t see your face. I was so sure - ”

“Shh, love,” Jack said, placing a finger against her lips. “No need to worry now. We’re both alright.”

“Oh Jack, the Black Pearl,” (Y/N) said. “I’m so sorry about your ship.”

Jack chuckled. “My ship? Don’t apologize for that. My only worry was you, and you’re okay now.”

“Well,” came Gibbs’ voice, tearing the two away from their moment. “I never thought I would heard the great Captain Jack Sparrow say he cared more for a lady than his own ship.”

“What can I say, Gibbs?” Jack said, putting an arm around (Y/N)’s waist and pulling her close to him. “She brings out the softer side in me, and maybe I’m much better for it.”

[whirlybirbs]

          (   this chapter’s gif by @august-walker​ from this beautiful set !   )

✪   —   VACANT MIRRORS  ;  B.B.  |  4/?

summary: you formulate a plan, meet steve rogers, and bucky goes on a date.

pairing: bucky barnes / f!reader

tags: set before & during tfatws, friends to lovers, therapy positive, trauma healing techniques, ptsd mentions, the normalization of anxiety disorders, and a good ol’ slow burn

word count: 6.8k, mother of pearl

a/n: this ended up being mostly a filler with a lot of romantic growth - i had to break this chapter up from the unce unce unce clubbing that coming up, so please enjoy! 

  (   PREVIOUSLY   |    AO3    |    MASTERLIST  |   NEXT  )

MOSCOW, 1975.

In all the years that James Buchanan Barnes has had a heartbeat, he’d come to know the sounds of grief well.

War taught him a lot of things — that they were all just little boys playing with guns, and that no matter how many times you thought you’d be ready for the vomit-inducing pungency of violence, you never were. In the end, you’d do anything to save yourself; you’d crawl through the thick of death and debris a million times over if only to cling to the shredded tatters of your own humanity.

You would kill someone else’s son for the sake of your own mother.

War was disease that devoured every part of you — it was gunpowder snuff and carved flesh. That sickness — inky and desperate — had sunk deep into this heart during the war, and it crescendoed to the sounds of mothers clutching dead sons. The sounds that followed death were like a hollow opera. Waning and wailing.

In the raucous wake left by warborn grief, Bucky drowned everytime.

To the Winter Soldier, the operatic quality to the sounds of grief were as insignificant as a child’s rhyme.

He did not drown. No, he waded through the waves, comfortable in the cold and unphased by the stinging cut of loss. That was not something he could comprehend. After all, there were orders and there were targets, and everything in between was absolute.

He was the disease that devoured all.

He’s holding a gun to Andrei Kuznetzov’s head in a dining room with ornate trim — with silverware as delicate as scalpels that tinker against fine china. The carpets are red, the curtains are red, there’s blood on the table cloth. The guests continue to eat. Kuznetzov’s wife is screaming, red nails dug so deep into the dining chair’s arms it’s carving out the fabric. War dogs, like him, keep her rooted in her seat, and her tears find polished boots. She’s begging and bartering but the man with Kuznetzov’s life in his hands is not listening. He is eating his veal, bloodied meat dancing between his lips. He takes a sip of wine as his medal emblazoned chest glimmers in the light of crystalline chandaliers.

The spoils of war.

His smile is stained red.

There is no deal to be made.

The Winter Soldier pulls the trigger.

NOW.

His eyes are open.

Panic is the first emotion he feels, and it seizes him up quickly in its grasp. He doesn’t know this view, he doesn’t know where he is, not again, not again, not again —

Then:

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. Did you know you snore?”

The relief that the sound of your voice brings is immediate, and just like that he remembers. He’s laying on the bed. You’re sat up across from him at that small desk in the corner. He reaches as he rubs his face to thumb the edge of the pillowcase. He exhales tightly.

He’s fine. His name is James Buchanan Barnes. He is not longer the Winter Soldier. He’s in his Brooklyn apartment. He is fine.

When’s the last fucking time he’s slept in a bed?

He sits up, scratching his neck as he does. You lean back, half rotated in the desk. Before you is a mess of papers and his laptop — and on top of the keyboard sits his notebook. It’s open to the page where all he’d been able to figure out about Innessa was scrawled in his chicken scratch.

Bucky swings his legs over the edge of the bed and immediately his back complains.

“How long was I out?” he asks, voice hoarse with sleep. He moves to part the curtains. The room blooms with warm morning light.

You offer an apologetic smile into the vanilla sunshine. “Three hours. I wanted you to get some shut eye. You were starting to look a little overwhelmed last night—”

“You click too fast,” he waves, standing and immediately rolling his neck to the side. You watch as the man, before as peaceful as a sleeping pup, now regains his usual thinning veiled level of threat. Bucky is dangerous — it shows in the way he holds himself. He cracks his neck, rolls his shoulders, and groans. He exhales again, posture sagging a bit, “I couldn’t keep up.”

You’re standing now, socks padding against the hardwood as you eye his cowlick with a budding bloom of affection. With his notebook between your index and middle finger, you offer it out. You cling to your empty coffee cup in the other.

“I didn’t peek,” you say warmly, “Pinky promise.”

His laugh is more like a hot puff of air. Bucky manages a look that feels like an emotional dethaw.

“Thank you.”

You lead the way to the kitchen, stretching your own back as you go. You’d been up all night — this is your third trip out here for yet another cup of coffee. The pot has been on for too long, though, and you know the coffee sitting there is beyond bitter. You’re moving to dump it down the sink when Bucky grumbles.

“Don’t.”

“You want it?”

“No,” he mutters, reaching for a mug, “But I don’t want to waste it.”

“Wow,” you chirp, “The Great Depression just jumped out.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, yanking open the fridge to search for something to eat, “It does that.”

“Well, grandpa,” you hand him the steaming cup and set out to make another pot, “You’re also living on Depression Era rations — might I suggest some Dolly’s? Because I’m starving and I’ve been up all night and I think that means I get to decide where we get breakfast.”

Bucky’s look is soft — but you don’t see it. You’re too busy scooping sugar into your cup, too busy nudging him aside to grab the milk. He’s rooted there in the kitchen, watching you move about. You’re comfortable. There isn’t a trace of anxiousness in you, not in this moment, and he tries to remember what it looks like.

Your eyes find his and he clears his throat.

“Earth to Sergeant Barnes?”

“Don’t start,” he groans, albeit playfully, “It’s too early.”

“Oh, what? Too early for me to grill you on why you didn’t tell me that little laptop in there was on loan from the FBI? To one Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th?”

His face falls.

“Don’t worry,” you raise a hand quickly, leaning against the counter as you sip your coffee, “I figured that out before I did anything massively illegal.”

Bucky rubs his face as he takes a sip of his coffee — the bitterness is enough to slap him awake. He winces, swallows it back, and remembers the taste of instant coffee made in helmets on the line in Bastogne. He can smell snow, and the acrid sting of mortar smoke. Suddenly, he’s craving a cigarette.

That hasn’t happened in a while.

Bucky clears his throat. “Did you find anything?”

You frown slightly, lips pulled as you hide your inward disappointment — you push off from the counter and shake your head as you brush past him. Like a loyal dog, Bucky follows. Into the bedroom you go, and Bucky’s again surprised he managed to get any sleep at all in that bed. Maybe it was the comfort of having someone else there, or the genuine exhaustion that had finally choked him out after hours of trying to understand what the hell you were even doing on there.

You plop into the desk chair and snatch up a piece of paper littered with notes.

“I couldn’t do much of my usual snooping,” you explain gently as you gesture to the chromebook, “This thing might have been given to you in good faith, but they’re watching you pretty closely. So, I worked a little magic and ended up running a virtual machine. Gave me enough wiggle room to avoid the malware and keystroke trackers. Even still, I wanted to be careful, so I just did a little looking.”

“Looking?”

“I can’t dig deeper on Innessa, I know where to dig, but I can’t,” you frown, “Not on this laptop, and definitely not on my personal machines. I’ve got the GRC breathing down my neck, and the files I need to poke are very much off-limits.”

“So, what? We’re shit out of luck?”

“No, not entirely,” you stand up and motion to the paper in your hands; your tone is tight, “I know a few people who can help, but getting to them is going to be the hardest part.”

Bucky takes the paper, squinting at the writing as you settle on the edge of the bed next to him. You take a sip of your coffee and watch as his blue eyes dart across the notes; you point to the name scrawled across the top.

“There’s a club in lower Manhattan, but you’ve gotta know the right people to get in,” you mumble, scratching your cheek as a creeping sense of embarrassment bubbles up behind your words, “It’s in the basement of an old computer repair shop. It’s like a blackhat networking event, but with strippers.”

Bucky squints at the paper and reads the name. “The Glass Cannon?”

“Yeah,” you huff, crossing your arms tightly as you stand, “That’s the one.”

Bucky looks up from the paper, attention now rooted on the pacing you’ve begun to do across the room. Back and forth. You’re holding your coffee like a lifeline, gaze far away. That anxiousless way you’d been holding yourself before is gone. Now, he can see the tensing in your shoulders, in your fingers. You’re suddenly nervous.

Bucky stands. His voice is gentle.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” you snap almost immediately, “Just, y’know. Worried. I spent a lot of time there when I was younger. Did stupid shit. And now I’m about to waltz in after six years like I haven’t put that part of my life behind me.”

“We don’t have to do this,” he says immediately, moving to stand closer and halt your pacing. The invasion of your space forces you to look at him. His fingers glimmering in the morning light. You follow the line of his figure up to his eyes. The emotion there makes your heart clench. You can’t pin it down, and it’s gone in an instant.

“It’s the only way we’re going to find Innessa.”

“You don’t need to put yourself in situations like this for me,” he says, stressing the for me part in both expression and tone. The depreciation makes you wince and you’re fast to shake your head.

“That’s what friends do, Bucky,” you stand your ground, but you know there’s more to your reasoning than that, “Plus, she’s a bad guy. And I know you said I technically wasn’t the sidekick, but—”

“You’re not the sidekick—”

“I know,” you huff, nudging him gently with your arm, “But, I wanna help. Do some good.”

“You do enough good,” he mutters, “You’re a good person.”

Your words fail you at that — and your mouth parts but nothing comes out. Bucky watches with an expression as solid as rock as you blink and look away. His hand, the one of flesh and bone, finds your wrist as you tighten your grip on your mug.

The touch, though far too tender for you to handle, feels like fire.

Like a slap in the face, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky is.

You slap that thought back, trading volleys, and remain quiet.

His tone is stern. “I mean it.”

“Well,” you finally muster, tone dipping sardonically into a cruel peel of humor, “Just wait until you see me in my natural habitat. Maybe the tequila shots will make you second guess that.”

“I didn’t know we were going out drinking,” he chirps as he raises an eyebrow, “Am I going to need to get you a leash?”

“We’re gonna have to try and blend in as best we can. People are going to know me — if they try to pin me with the GRC or the feds, we aren’t going to get anything on Innessa. They probably won’t even let me in the building if they suspect something’s up, after all not everything that goes down in Glass Cannon is kosher.”

“This is already sounding like a bad idea,” Bucky mumbles as he crosses his arms, “I’m stating that for the record, by the way.”

“Well, I think standing around and working ourselves up about this is even worse of an idea,” you chirp back, moving towards the door to muscle on your shoes, “So I say we feed ourselves and don’t worry about this until Thursday night.”

“Thursday.”

You nod.

All of a sudden, Bucky’s eyes go wide.

“Today is Sunday.”

You freeze, hand on the doorframe. You shoot him a wide-eyed look at the sudden flare of panic that’s shot up through him. “Yea, Bucky, today is Sunday.”

“Shit.”

“What?” you nearly cry as he disappears into the bedroom once more. You hear his closet open, then a clatter as he grabs something like keys — you nearly run directly into his chest when he strides back into the kitchen. He’s shouldered on his usual leather jacket, and in his hands is another.

He’s got keys in his hand.

“C’mon.”

He shoves the jacket into your arms and you frown.

“What the hell?” you cry, doubling back to snag your phone and bag as Bucky moves to the door, “What is this?”

“Put it on,” he says, holding open the door for you as you follow him into the apartment hallway.

You raise a brow and stand there as he locks the door.

“Why?”

“Because,” Bucky mumbles, rubbing his face as he widens his strides to the stairwell across the hall; before you know it, you’re desperately trying to keep up as he bounces down the steps — light on his feet like the boxer he is — towards the lower level of the apartment complex, “We’re late.”

You groan, trying to shrug on the jacket that smells like Bucky as you follow — a smell you’d come to know as clean laundry and sandalwood. Must be something for his hair. He never wore cologne, that much was apparent. The jacket is big on you, especially on the shoulders. You were swimming in it, trying not to trip as he held the door open to the garage.

Suddenly, the air is cooler. Immediately you wonder how much his rent is if he had access to a ground level garage. Call it NYC instinct.

“Bucky,” you nearly whine, throwing your head back, “Where are we going?”

Before you get a reply, you run straight into his back. Bucky grunts, moving to grab both of your hands and push you to the front of him.

Sitting in the spot is a motorcycle.

It’s a jet black Harley.

Bucky is handing you the helmet on the back seat as your mouth moves in disbelief. “No way— no, I’m not getting on that thing. I’d rather sell my kidneys. Stop, stop — ow, Bucky — you haven’t even said where we’re going!”

He’s muscling the helmet onto your head and through the flash of the visor you can see a real smile, the sort born out of his never-ending amusement towards your fickle sense of humor. His fingers are nimble against your chin. He takes the time to strap it on, adjust it, and give it a gentle tug. Bucky taps the matte black helmet twice, then flicks the visor down.

“We’re going upstate.”

                                        ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

It takes two hours to get to Elmwood Senior Living.

You spent the first forty-five minutes clinging to Bucky’s waist with your eyes closed — no fault of Bucky’s, really. It was different from riding in a car by miles, and you had your own qualms with driving. You couldn’t be in the passenger’s seat anymore. Not after the accident with Jaimie, when Mom disappeared. Being out of control made you itch; and it’s not until the fifty-minute mark that you ease up on the panic and remember who the man is that’s driving the bike.

You trust Bucky. You trust him with your life.

Once it’s open road, winding up towards the Northern part of the state, it gets easier.

Bucky can feel your grip around his waist loosen just a bit — and it’s enough reassurance that he stops looking back in the mirror every fifteen seconds. It’s enough permission to open up on the throttle, and the bike roars alive. Your immediate reaction is a gobsmacked yelp, the sort that’s pulled from a jolt of shock, but then comes the laugh. 

Bucky’s own quiet chuckle rumbles against your chest. You hold on tighter, but this time with open palms against the thrum of his ribs.

Halfway through the trip, he pulls into a McDonald’s.

You drop your ass onto the parking lot’s curb as he leans against the bike and houses a burger. You laugh, eyeing him candidly as you take a large bite from your own lunch. Bucky is a mess with it — cursing quietly when he ends up getting ketchup on his jacket.

“Shit.”

“Jesus, Bucky,” you mutter, “Did you even taste that thing?”

“Barely,” he clears his throat and starts picking at his fries, “These things taste different now. First time I ever had McDonald’s was right before bootcamp.”

“How much was it? Five cents?” you snort, leaning back and dropping a fry into your mouth.

Bucky watches with a half-smirk. “Fifteen, but nice try.”

He spends the next five minutes on his hand with a wet nap, trying hard to get the grease out of the delicate plates along his palm. You watch, as you knock back the rest of your soda, as his eyes crinkle tightly in frustration. His mouth is pulled tightly into a fine line. For the second time today, you’re reminded of how handsome Bucky Barnes is — and how fucking stubborn he is, too.

“Want help?”

“No,” he mutters, trying to get a spot between his thumb and index finger, “I got it.”

“I have smaller fingers,” you sing-song, gathering up his trash and your trash and crossing the parking lot to the bin; upon returning, you waggle them in his face, “Good for hard to reach places.”

Bucky absolutely hates that can feel his blush hit the tips of his ears at the comment.

He’s glad you’re too preoccupied with his hand to notice. You’re watching, like you always do, with respectful awe. To you, this part of him is a bit like a treasure — you find it beautiful and intriguing and incredible. It’s clear in the way you watch the mechanisms turn and tighten that you aren’t frightened by it.

It unsettles Bucky every time.

Finally, once he’s finished under your watchful eyes, he leans to muscle that helmet back over your head. You groan, squinting tightly.

“C’mon,” he knocks your helmet with his knuckles, “We’re almost there.”

The rest of the ride is wide open space, farm land and mountainous peaks looming far ahead. It’s warm, and the sun is hot on your back. The wind is howling around you and it sends your jacket collar flapping against your neck. Your chin rests neatly on Bucky’s shoulder, trying to get a view of the road ahead.

Elmwood Senior Living is tucked into the back of a suburb.

The two of you weave through a neighborhood or two, dancing under the shade of age old maple trees. They cast long, scattered shadows across the pavement as kids play on their lawns. A dog barks somewhere in the distance. Over the hill, church bells ring. Sunday service has ended.

Bucky rolls into the parking lot, past the large sign with swirling lettering. Suddenly, things make more sense. Suddenly, you’re struck with a sinking feeling of grief. Nostalgia. Mourning. But, happiness.

There are folks sitting outside, basking in the sun, tethered to walkers.

Bucky’s wrists crank back weathered knuckles, and slowly the bike rumbles into an open spot. Extending his legs, Bucky balances the bike with ease. You take that as your cue to swing yourself off the back clumsily, hopping a bit. Bucky leans, kicks the stand down, and with significantly more grace than you, swings his leg over.

You’re shrugging his jacket off when he speaks.

“He’s going to be different than how you imagine him.”

You exhale slowly, draping the jacket over the bike’s seat. You peel the helmet off.

“I’ve sort of pieced that together.”

You can see the slight discomfort hanging in his posture. You reach and touch Bucky’s arm.

“Come on,” you nod to the entrance, covered by a shady overhang where someone is helping a family member out of their car, “We don’t wanna be late, huh?”

His eyes soften. Bucky nods.

You walk side-by-side into the lobby of Elmwood Senior Living and it’s like time slows down. It halts in a warm, sunshine colored still — full of chatter, full of humanity, full of wisdom. The room is framed by big windows, by plants, by a man in a U.S. Navy ball cap. He’s stationed by the door, watching the comings and goings. The main desk, where a young woman watches, sits in the corner. You follow Bucky with a content little look. He notices.

He stands a little closer at the main desk. The girl, who looks like she’s incredibly out of place with her blue hair and piercings, is younger than you thought. Highschool, maybe. She offers Bucky an excited smile.

“Took you long enough,” she chirps, moving to sort through a bin to her side with key fobs.

Your brows raise. You spy calculus homework on the desk.

Bucky snorts. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He notices the same problem set you so, and purposely leans over the desk. Suddenly, you’re seeing flashes of a more boyish version of Bucky — one that reminds you of a man with siblings. Bucky taps the paper, jutting a chin to the girl as she tries to swat his attention away.

“How’d you do on that test?”

“I got a 96,” she chirps pridefully, laughing, “Thanks for the help, nerd.”

You’re watching the entire exchange with a smile, backing up a bit to toss a curious glance over your shoulder. There’s a dining room through open doors — and looks like lunch is just wrapping up. Folks are moving around, back to their rooms or upstairs where you can hear the beginnings of a seated aerobics class begin.

Bucky nudges you with his hand.

“Thanks, Sarah,” he says and waves the key she’d handed over.

The girl with the blue hair scoffs. “Say hi to grandpa for me, Bucket.”

You laugh out loud as Bucky quickly flips her off. She’s quick to do the same.

You follow him around the corner, grinning ear to ear. He spares you a sheepish look, then rolls his eyes.

“What was that?”

“She’s a good kid,” he offers, eyeing the key with the grey little fob attached, “Reminds me of my sister.”

Your face softens. “Sister?”

“Her name was Sarah, too,” he says quietly, boots landing softly on the blue carpet. He’s navigating the residential wing like he’s done it a million times. There are rooms with flowers outside, with holiday garb, with little photos and keepsakes. Each room holds a lifetime of personality — the sound of Jeopardy lulls along in the background.

You hum. Bucky sighs.

He meanders down a long hallway where a different door is — this one heavy and locked by the little keypad. Bucky raises the key fob to the device and the door buzzes.

This side of Elmwood is quieter.

Down the hall, Timmy Dorsey and Sinatra play quietly over someone’s record player.

There aren’t as many folks in the hall in this wing, but doors are open and nurses flit about. Around the corner, there’s a loud conversation going on about lunch — and you watch as Bucky weaves towards the nursing station. It’s a room overlooking the common area with windows. Inside are three women.

One of them immediately jumps when she sees Bucky.

“Oh, good! I was meaning to talk to you—”

“Everything alright?”

“About the same,” she breathes as she stands, moving to grab at a Bucky’s arm with a sense of motherliness that makes you smile, “But, meals have been a bit difficult lately.”

“No kidding,” he mutters, rubbing his chin, “He just doesn’t wanna eat?”

“He thinks Peggy is coming home,” the woman whispers with a pained smile as she begins to lead you both down the hall, “He thinks your grandmother made dinner for him.”

“Right,” Bucky nods, “Doesn’t wanna ruin his appetite.”

“Exactly.”

You take note of the conversation, muddling through your own confusion. You’re quiet, though. This isn’t really your conversation to have. Bucky seems to be relaxed more — even humming slightly to a song that plays across the hall from the room the nurse is knocking on.

“Mr. Carter?” she calls gently, “Your grandson is here to see you, and his…”

She looks expectantly at you. You bawk.

“Friend.”

“Right,” she smiles and pushes open the door.

It’s like a little slice of home.

Sofas, chairs, photos on the walls. There’s a record player in the corner, a television, a coffee table stacked with books on the second world war. There’s a dresser covered in baubles and warm light coming in from the window overlooking the street. It reminds you of your grandparents’ sitting room — everything looks so lived in, so comfortable, so alive.

And then, below the light of the window, is a hospital bed.

In it is Steve Rogers.

Not the one you know — no, this one has lived a full life. This Steve Rogers has fallen in love, owned a home, settled down. This Steve Rogers has years of wisdom settled into his face, years of well-fought fights in his joints. His blonde hair has gone shock white, but his smile is all the same.

“Bucky.”

The way Steve says his name is like the man beside you holds the world.

To Bucky, he can hear a new weakness. A new exhaustion.

“Hi, punk.”

The nurse offers a little wave to you as Bucky ventures into the room, stripping his jacket off and moving to scope out the minifridge in the small kitchenette beside the bathroom. She leaves the door open, and you smile to her softly. Bucky rummages, poking his head up.

“You want a drink, Steve?” he asks, tone almost like he’s feeling out the lucidity of the man across the room, “There’s some of that lemonade I brought last week in here.”

“Sounds good,” he says slowly, “Please.”

You feel out of place — not unwelcome, but… it’s clear that Bucky has come and gone from here a thousand times now. He knows to get the glasses out, to get a straw, to turn down the record player on his way over. Doris Day’s voice lowers to a soft croon. You watch with heavy eyes.

“I brought someone, Steve,” Bucky says, “She’s a big fan.”

“Oh?” Steve asks with a slow look to the corner where you’re standing, “That musta broke your heart.”

Bucky snorts as he moves to swing the hospital bed’s tray over Steve’s lap. He places the lemonade down, then the other glass on the nightstand. He’s quick to move the armchair closer to the nightstand, and gestures for you to come over. Bucky’s hands guide you by the shoulders as he plops you into the chair.

“She’s one of the good ones,” Bucky says, “Reminds me of you.”

“No kidding,” Steve says slowly, offering a hand that shakes, “Steve Rogers. It’s a pleasure.”

You exchange your name with a shy look, shaking that hand with reverence and gentility. “It’s an honor, Mr. Rogers.”

“Please,” he mumbles, moving to slowly take a sip of his lemonade, “Steve is fine.”

Bucky moves to take up a post on the opposite side of Steve, in the sun. “You’re losin’ weight, y’know.”

That earns him a wave of the hand.

Bucky leans back and sips his lemonade. He waggles a finger and you watch the two begin to go back and forth.

“No, no,” he swallows, “No, you don’t get t’ shrug me off—”

“M’fine, Buck,” a sigh, “Really.”

“Mhm,” he narrows his eyes, “You’re startin’ to look like the Steve I knew before the serum.”

You lean back, hiding a quiet smirk behind your hand.

“I was wondering when you were gonna show up an’ pester me,” he says with a tired look, “The only peace I get around here is when Peggy comes home.”

Your eyes jump to Bucky. He’s watching you.

“Peggy?” you ask gently, “Is that your wife?”

A proud smile washes over his face. “Still knocks me for a loop, too.”

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice is gentle, “Peggy won’t be coming around for a while. Remember?”

There’s a look that flashes across Steve’s face, then. A mixture of sadness, of confusion, of panic. It’s clouded with a furrow of his brow, hidden by a tilt of the head. He looks at Bucky, mouth pulled in a fine line.

When he finally speaks, his voice is sad.

“That’s right. I forgot.”

“S’alright,” Bucky taps his head, maintaining an air of nonchalance, “That’s why you got me.”

“And why you’ve got her, no doubt,” he turns to you with a winning smile and offers his hand again, “Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you.”

You take it, you shake it, and you introduce yourself once more. Your smile is patient and understanding. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Steve.”

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Steve smiles, tossing Bucky a look that borders on mischievous.

He sips his lemonade and clears his throat. “How is Sam?”

“You ask every time,” Bucky mutters, “And every time I have the same answer.”

“Sam?” you ask slowly.

“Wilson,” Bucky finishes, “Bird man.”

“You mean Falcon,” you correct, shooting him a stern look, “The Falcon. Are you ghosting The Falcon?”

“I don’t know what that even means, so maybe,” Bucky leans back and crosses his legs, “I’ve been busy.”

You roll your eyes. Steve saw. He smiles.

“I’m gettin’ why he keeps you around.”

Your face is smacked with a look of pure joy.

“C’mon on now,” Bucky cries, nearly indignantly, “No flirting—”

“M’ not flirting—”

“I know that look, Steve—”

Steve is laughing.

Bucky has a stern look in his eye. “You always do this—”

“I’m not doin’ a damn thing—”

“And you better keep it that way, old man,” Bucky shirks, voice splintering into a laugh in a way that you’ve never heard before, “I swear, this is how it always goes.”

“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, huh, Buck?” you ask gently, leaning your cheek into your hand.

Steve laughs loudly at that.

Bucky spares you a smile — the sort that’s drenched in good humor and sunlight. It makes your lungs flutter, and you ignore the buzz in your fingers at the sight. You hide your laugh into your cup of lemonade, resigning to be a quiet counterpart in the conversation.

The two of them go on to chat about small things, then chat about old things. From the Commandos, to HYDRA, to amends, to therapy, to Peggy, to the itch the starch of their old dress uniforms used to bring. It takes a bit, a few redirections on the way, but it’s clear by the end why Steve Rogers is in Elmwood’s memory unit.

It makes your heart ache.

And if a super soldier is bed-ridden…

The two of you say goodbye around three in the afternoon after Bucky helps Steve shave.

The walk back to the bike is quiet.

Bucky speaks first.

“He’s dying.”

You chew your lip, eyes on the pavement. You match his slow stride, bumping your elbow with his as you walk. It’s still warm, and the clouds hang high in the sky. When you look up, Bucky’s watching you. You sigh.

“I’m sorry,” you finally muster, “I am.”

“Don’t be,” he says, grabbing the jacket from the seat and holding it up, “He’s lived a long life.”

You let Bucky hold out the arm for you, and you press your hand through the sleeve. He helps the other side on, and you zip it up to your chin. When you turn around to face him, there are tears in your eyes.

They snuck up on you. You hadn’t realized it until Bucky’s face fell, until the first one fell along the weathered leather of the jacket. You blink, raising your brows as you swipe them away, and offer an apologetic look.

“I’m happy,” you say, “Y’know. He has you. But, he’s a man out of time. Even now. That makes me sad.”

Bucky’s quiet for a while. He’s leaned up against the bike as you turn and watch Elmwood from the back of the parking lot. There’s a big part of you that feels heavy with guilt — and though Steve was in good spirits when you left, you can’t help but ache to provide him with more company. It’s clear that seeing Bucky means a lot to him, and that in turn it means a lot to the man beside you.

“Come on,” Bucky says then, “Let’s go home.”

You nod, let him muscle that helmet onto your head one more time, and hold on a little tighter back to the city.

                                       ◦   ◦   ◦   ◦   

You don’t see Bucky until Tuesday.

In all honesty, it feels weird to not hear from him for two days. At the very least, you expected some sort of phone call — but you remind yourself that you’ve been okay alone for a long time. There’s no need to throw all your work on being comfortable by yourself out the window for Bucky Barnes.

It’s tempting, though. God, it’s really tempting.

You hate the ache in your chest when you finally see him lumbering towards the cafe counter before your appointments. You hate this new feeling — so you shove it down and ignore the way his fingers brush yours when he hands you your latte.

He is ignoring it, too. He’s been ignoring it.

No use in thinking about it though.

“You got plans later?” you ask him in the elevator after your appointment, tilting your head, “Apparently there’s a Lord of the Rings marathon tonight on FX.”

Bucky stiffens — and immediately he can feel the hot sting of anxious regret flood his cheeks. He clears his throat, tucks his hands in his pockets, and toes the ground. You watch with a confused look. Then he speaks tightly.

“...I’ve got a date.”

You could have caught flies the way your jaw fell open.

“Oh. Oh!”

You blink, readjust your expression, and swallow down a sharp stab of rejection.

Bucky clears his throat. “It’s… I wasn’t going to but, Dr. Raynor—”

“No, no,” you wave your hands and shake your head and try to seem genuine, “No, I’m happy for you. Is this one of those Christian Minglers?”

Bucky groans. “Shut up.”

“Okay,” you say, “Okay! Just, uh, be careful. Y’know? And call if you need anything.”

The elevator doors open, and Bucky walks side by side with you through the well-lit lobby. He holds the door open for you, and you pass through with a pained look at the ground. He lingers, though, rubbing the back of his neck as you wait for him to say what’s on his mind.

“Thursday,” he says, “I’ll stop by.”

“Yea,” you say, waving your hand, “Whenever.”

But, that doesn’t end up happening.

No, Bucky Barnes shows up at your apartment doorstep at 10pm.

He’s clutching takeout and a six pack of beer and wearing a horrified expression that screams of guilt and exhaustion. No, Bucky buzzes the door to your apartment and basically croaks that he’s here — he’s asking if the marathon is still on while you buzz him up.

“Third floor,” you say into the buzzer with a smile, “Come on in, old man.”

When you open the door, you have to laugh — because his hair is a mess and there’s still a trace of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. Whereas jealousy threatens to flare, his incredibly regretful expression tamps it down. You cock a hip, eye him up and down, and jut your chin out.

“Get laid?”

Bucky rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised he didn’t break something.

He pushes past you, moving to drop the beer on the counter and place the takeout gently down by the basket of fruit.

“I’m here for the cat,” he grumbles, “Not your witty commentary, sweetheart.”

You’re moving quietly to the sink and gathering a paper towel with a smirk as Bucky looks around, admiring the decor and aliveness of your apartment. When you turn around, he’s already pried a beer from the pack and popped the top off with his vibranium palm.

He winces when you reach up to swipe the coral lipstick from the corner of his mouth.

Then Bucky settles, letting you clean off the mess.

“Mhm,” you hum, “Right. Was it at least fun?”

“She had fun,” he mutters into his first sip, “It was a lotta tongue for my first night out in nearly a century, though.”

You wince. He nods with a sardonic smile that tells you everything about how the date went down — and you’re relieved. “So, I take it you're not calling her in the morning?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “Nope. No, and I’ve decided no more dates. That was enough for me.”

You wince and pluck a beer from the pack. Wordlessly, Bucky gestures for you to hand it over. In one smooth motion, he twists the cap off with his hand.

“That bad?” you ask, eyeing him critically.

“I decided halfway through,” he says as he moves to take the takeout from its bag, “I’d rather be watching Lord of the Rings with you.”

That stops you into silence. It’s like someone’s taken your own words and gagged you with them — and you’re left floundering for breath you never even realize you lost. You know he means it. You know it because he won’t look at you, because that sort of confession isn’t easy for people like you two. So you take those words and you glue them in a lonely locket and keep them close to your heart.

Poke’s entrance saves you a mouthful of broken words — he comes in, trots up to Bucky, and hollers.

Bucky laughs.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he mutters, eyeing the cat that’s eagerly rubbing himself along Bucky’s leg.

You wipe your face, sip your beer, and move to the pantry across from the kitchen island. You come back out with a bag of salmon treats — the good ones — and offer Bucky the bag. He takes it, eyes still on the calico, and crinkles it a little.

You lean against the counter and watch Bucky kneel.

“If you keep it up long enough he might even let you hold him.”

He lights up at that.

You laugh.

You move to grab plates and forks and knives and groan when you open up the first box to see Pad Thai — you make a mental note to properly thank Bucky for this. You meager dinner of reheated pasta really hadn’t hit the spot. This will, though. You can tell from the smell alone.

By your knees, Poke chirps.

“He’s cute.”

“I never took you for a cat guy.”

Bucky snorts.

You make a plate and flick his head as you walk by. “You’re missing the start of The Two Towers.”

“I���m going to be confused, aren’t I?” he asks as he stands and begins making himself a plate. He watches as you settle onto the couch and sip your beer, “I was too busy being turned into a cyborg to read the books.”

You laugh out loud. It shocks you.

“Was that a joke? Did Bucky Barnes just make a joke?”

He’s smirking. He rounds the counter with his food and settles next to you. Poke is following him, eager to curl up next to his new friend.

“I can be funny.”

“Funny lookin’.”

He elbows you on purpose. You snort into your beer.

There’s a comfortable moment of quiet between you, and you clear your throat.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly, “No problem.”

More quiet, and he’s still watching you. Then, he asks what’s been on his mind for the last three days.

“You got a plan for Thursday?”

“I’ve got anxiety, Buck,” you exhale, swigging your beer and turning the television up, “I always have a plan.”