#i had a feeling that it was being stupid and i was right | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thegoldencontracts · 2 days ago

Note

Hi sorry to bother you, but can you please make a part 2 of the courting fic where the prefect realizes what they were trying to say and "un-rejects" them?

Love your writing, keep up the good work!!

So happy to see people on the same page as me here, because I wrote the fic right before going to bed and my immediate thoughts were (I feel so bad so themm... wait but they're also being kinda stupid shit GUYS LOCK IN)

Anyways Part Twooo to this fic let's gooo! Featuring them getting a taste of their own medicine because I thought they deserved it (affectionate)

Cultural Exchange

—"You could have just said you liked me."

Characters: Leona, Ruggie, Floyd, Azul (same as in the first fic)

Notes: Let me I tell you I had wayy too much fun writing the little intro for each section I thought I was sooo clever didn't I

Leona:

—Humans are known to give flowers to their objects of affection. Bouquets, particularly those containing roses, are a common gift given to someone a human wishes to date.

Your phone, you noticed, was already open. A google page laid in front of you. Did Leona try to look something up and forget to close it? No, as slothful as he seemed, being careless like this just wasn't in his character.

But the phone was opened to-

Lion beastman courtship rituals.

The page stared you in the face, daring you to read.

"Lion beastmen," it said. "Have extended courting rituals. They stake out their desired mate and spend time building relations."

Wait. Those weeks the two of you had spent together...

"When the time is right, beastmen will often roar to declare their intent. They show desire by pawing, nuzzling, and-"

He'd roared beforehand, hands all over you.

"Biting."

Goddamnit you just fumbled Leona Kingscholar.

You wanted to crawl into a hole. You wanted to apologize. And you kind of wanted to yell at him for not just saying that like a normal person when you asked what was going on.

But that would have to wait for another time.

For now, you'd have to find some way to make it clear you returned his interests.

Flowers. Everyone, boy or girl, old or young, broke prefect or genius lion prince, could probably appreciate a nice bouquet.

So you stopped by Heartslabyul and the Seven themselves or whatever the deities of this world were must have been smiling down upon you, because they had a bunch of extra roses from some growth spell mishap they needed to get rid of.

"Good luck with your boyfriend," Ace had said, snickering.

So here you were. Outside of the Savannaclaw common room, a bouquet of flowers in hand.

"You gonna eat that?" Ruggie, standing in front of you, looking at the flowers scrutinizingly. Noticing the expression on your face though, he just laughed. "Jeez, I'm just joking with ya! I can get my own food. Maan, you're so dense... shishishi, no wonder Leona-san's obvious signs went right over your head!"

Speaking of Leona-

"Can you take me to him?" You asked, and Ruggie nodded.

"'Bout time. Leona-san's been in a mood since you shot him down." You didn't shoot him down, you just asked what he was talking about! "He's been sulkin' all day."

You had a feeling Ruggie was just saying that to embarrass him.

"But anyways, come on! The sooner you lovebirds kiss and make up, the better."

The door to Leona's room was locked. But Ruggie just pulled a hairpin, fiddled with it, and-

Of course he picked the lock.

"Your mate, Leona-san!"

"The herbivore's not-"

And Ruggie was gone. Just you and him now.

Leona stared at you from where he was lounging in his bed, tail flicking expectantly.

"You saw it, right?" He asked, voice deceptively impassive. You nodded.

"This all would've been a lot easier if you just explained what you meant. "I mean..."

You pulled the small bouquet of roses from behind your back.

Leona just stared, confused.

"Are you- callin' me an herbivore or something?" He asked. "You tryin' to say I'm fragile like the flowers?"

What.

He had the gall to expect you to understand these lion mating rituals or whatever, and he couldn't even understand what flowers meant?

"Lighten up, herbivore, I'm just jokin' with you," he said, taking the bouquet. "I do my research."

Unlike you was left unsaid.

"I really am sorry Leona-san," you said. "But how was I supposed to know you biting me was a mating ritual?"

"Well, it's more obvious than flowers," he huffed. You had to disagree, but since he was following your, uh, 'courting rituals'...

"I guess I should return the favor," you said, grabbing his arm. His face flushed ever so slightly, barely noticeable on that tanned skin of his.

And then you bit. He stared, shocked. But not the good kind.

"That," he said. "Was the weakest bite I've ever seen?"

"Huh?"

"You really are an herbivore," he said, before putting his head on your lap. "I'm going to sleep."

His tail flickered contentedly, though.

Cute.

Ruggie Bucchi:

—Humans give food items to their prospective mate, particularly sweet items with either a heart-shape or a heart-shape container. To highlight their affections, the sweet items are often made by hand.

Ruggie had been avoiding you. It was clear as day.

The excited little "Morning, Kantokusei-kun!" whenever he saw you had turned into a chorus of excuses about Leona calling for him and whatnot. His constant visits to your room had all but vanished.

You were getting fed up with it. What did you do? Did you accidentally eat his donut or something?

It all came to a head when you bumped into Leona in the greenhouse.

"Hey, herbivore," he said. There was something almost unnerving about the calm in his voice, the way he scrutinized you like he was picking apart the very fiber of your being.

After a while, though, he laughed.

"Ruggie's got himself up in a twist over nothing," he said.

"Um, what?"

"You," he said. "Do you know," he trailed off. "What hyena beastmen do—"

"—When they find someone they want to mate?"

Where did this come from?

"The guys do this thing," he continued. "Step forward and step away. Then they cross their legs and present their scent."

Oh.

He'd crossed his legs, telling you to join him on the bed...

"Seem familiar?" Leona said, a languid grin. "Good. Now clear this whole thing up. Ruggie's being a pain."

You accidentally rejected him! Goddamnit!

Well, if he'd just been a little more clear, you wouldn't've-!

Whatever. You needed to make it clear you liked him back, you supposed.

And what did you do when you liked someone? Make them chocolates! Heart-shaped ones for good measure. Plus, Ruggie liked food gifts, so that seemed like something he'd appreciate.

So you got to it. Made your chocolates, and off to Savannaclaw you went.

You knocked on the door. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Maybe he wasn't there?

But no; you heard a muffled yelp, from none other than him.

He wanted to hide. Unfortunately for him, in the time of your friendship, you'd long since learned how to copy his lock-picking technique.

Hairpin in the lock. Another one to serve as a tension wrench. And with a little bit of fiddling...

The door was open. Ruggie was staring at you, eyes blown wide.

"Hey, uh, pal!" He said, opening the window. "It looks like Leona-san needs another tonkatsu sandwich, and-"

"I'm sorry," you said, rushing to block the window before he could jump out of it. Well, hopefully that wasn't actually what he was planning, but you could never be too sure. "I mean, you were being really really vague, so honestly it was kinda your fault, but I- you know-"

You sighed.

"Just take this," you said, shoving the box of chocolates in his hands. "This should tell you how I feel."

You didn't know how you expected Ruggie to respond, maybe eat the chocolates happily, maybe say something about the changed nature of your relationship—

But you didn't expect him to stare at the chocolate like it personally offended him.

"What's this supposed to mean?" He asked. "You tryin' to butter me up so I owe you later or somethin'?"

What. What was he talking about. What was going on in his head when he said that.

"They're- They're heart-shaped chocolates," you said. "Do you- not feel the same way anymore or something?"

Ruggie stared at you like you'd just said the sky was green.

"Heart-shaped-" he stared at the chocolates. "Wait, m so iss this like- uh- it could be- you givin' me your heart-"

You saw the moment the puzzle pieces clicked together in his head. He probably didn't have the completely right idea, but eh, good enough. His face went bright red.

"You, shishi, didn't have to- go all this way, y'know," he said. "Not that I'm conplainin'."

He popped one into his mouth, and you could tell he liked it from the way his face brightened.

"Good?" You asked, and he just shoved the uneaten half of the chocolate into your mouth in response, the imprint of his sharp canines clear as day.

You chewed for a few seconds. It really was good. But more importantly...

"That was an indirect kiss, y'know."

"Indi-what?"

"Indirect kiss. Your lips and my lips touched the same thing."

"Talk about weird," he said. "Sharin' food like that's completely normal!"

And then, popping another chocolate into his mouth, he continued:

"Can't you humans just sniff each other like any normal person?"

Floyd Leech:

—Humans will often use humorous expressions of desire with prospective mates in order to gauge interest. These are known as "pick-up lines".

Floyd had been avoiding you all week now. You had absolutely no clue what you did. Was he really that upset you'd told him to just be honest if he was bored with your rambling?

But still, the fact remained that he was avoidant, and just generally in an awful mood. Maybe something else had happened? Maybe it was just a mood?

Your question was answered when Jade cornered you after school, a toothy smile that most certainly didn't reach his eyes.

"I hear you've had quite the spat with my brother, Prefect," he said. "I understand that you may not return his feelings, but I would advise you to apologize for your harsh words. My brother is not, as you insinuate, the sort to court another so casually."

Wait.

Court?

"What do you mean, 'court'?" You asked. "I was talking, he started yawning, he asked me to dance out of nowhere, and then he got angry and left. Simple as that. Where do you see courting?"

The gear seemed to turn in his head for a while, before realization dawned upon him, mouth widening into a little 'o'.

"Prefect," he said. "Are you aware that moray eels open their mouths wide as a sign of desire?

"Huh?"

"When a moray eels sees a prospective mate," Jade re-iterated. "They open their mouths. And as a finalization, they perform a mating dance."

Mouth opened wide... Mating dance...

"Holy shit," you said. Jade just stared at you, still slightly threatening.

"You're telling me he was trying to tell me he liked me and I pretty much called him a fuckboy."

Jade nodded.

"Indeed, you did."

You could only sigh, long and low.

"Damnit."

"I do suggest you, ah, clear the air," Jade said, though his tone made it clear this was more of a demand. "Make it clear to him what I realized."

"Yeah, yeah." You still thought he should've just told you what he wanted.

Jade nodded, satisfied.

"Then I'll be leaving," he said. But before he left, he turned back, for just a split second.

"Prefect?"

"Yeah?"

"My brother and I both lack very little in terms of comfort," he said. "So I think you'll find that actions and words shall both speak louder than any bribes you attempt to bring."

And with that cryptically delivered piece of advice, Jade was gone.

You got to work. No point in making something, you recalled. Best to just bring yourself and your own sincerity.

Floyd was near impossible to track down. You really thought you deserved points just for doing that. He really put you through the wringer, after all.

"Floyd!" you said at last, trying your best to stay calm as he scowled. "I have something to say."

"I don't wanna hear it."

"You- You do!" You said. "Listen, I know you're annoyed because I called you a playboy, but have you ever considered-"

"Shut up."

"-That it was actually your fault for being really really vague while also managing to misunderstand me in the worst way possible?"

Floyd looked like he wanted to snap your neck. He also looked intrigued, though, which was a good sign.

"What're you saying?"

"I'm saying that I didn't know you were trying to tell me you liked me!" You said. "I mean, you looked like you were yawning, and I don't know jackshit about moray rituals, so what the hell was I supposed to think? All I know is—I'm talking, you're yawning, and suddenly you want to dance. Of course I'm going to think you're bored!"

Floyd stared at you for a few seconds.

And then he burst out laughing.

"F-Floyd?!"

"Eheh, you're so stupid sometimes, Koebi-chan!" Very nice. "But you've got some guts for a shrimpy. Maan, I remember why I like you so much now."

In an instant, he was back to his typical, lackadaisical mood.

"Use your head a little more next time, alright? I really thought you were trying to say I was some flaky little guppy," he said. You shook your head vehemently, pushing down your urge to tell him that he was the one being ridiculously vague.

"No, I know you're not like that, I mean- I like you too!" Now what. "Uh- Uh-"

"You know, Floyd," you said. "They say the tongue is the strongest muscle."

Now, he just looked confused.

"It's not. When it comes to strength by size, the masseter-"

"So," you said. "Wanna wrestle?"

He narrowed his eyes.

"Tongue-wrestling would be boring. Why're you even bringin' wrestling up right now? Lame."

Did- Did he seriously not get it?

"Our tongues should wrestle," you re-iterated. He shook his head.

"How'd you even do somethin' like that?" he asked. "Just, like, put your lips together-"

You didn't even have time to realize when it all clicked for him because he grabbed you.

"Changed my mind. I wanna tongue-wrestle with you, Koebi-Chan!"

"And you were calling me the oblivious one?"

Azul:

—Humans will often initiate contact between their lips and the lips of a prospective mate, a phenomenon known as "kissing". When done for an extended period of time, this is called "making out".

Azul did not act particularly different.

But you could tell he was upset. It was written all over the slight strain of his saccharine smile, the way he laid it on just a little bit too thick when he attempted to ingratiate himself to you, and the slight bags under his eyes—a sign he was overworking himself in an attempt to distract from his problems.

Yep. He was definitely upset.

And of course, inevitably, the twins cornered you.

"You did somethin' weird to Azul," Floyd said, glaring at you. "Fix it or I'll squeeze ya."

Jade snickered from behind him.

Of course. Welp, you had absolutely no clue what you did, sooo...

"Is this because I offered to take him to the Doctor's office when his arm kept changing color?" you asked. "Seriously, I knew he didn't like getting help, but- ugh, isn't that too far!"

"Why'd you do that?" Floyd said. "Man, Koebi-Chan really is mean, tellin' Azul he's sick for wantin' to make you his mate."

"What does changing color have to do with, uh, mates?"

Floyd looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or slap you.

"You do know a little octopus like Azul changes color because he wants to be your mate, right?"

...

That couldn't be. That just- it-

"Indeed," said Jade. "Octopi will also often grab their prospective mate from behind."

His arm was changing color. He'd grabbed you from behind.

"Goddamnit," you said. Couldn't he have been a little more specific?!

That was it. You were not dealing with this stupid misunderstanding any longer! This stupid, insanely intelligent, oblivious octopus was going to know you liked him!

You stomped away.

"Where're you going, Koebi-chan?"

"Oya, going somewhere, Perfect?"

"Clearing the air," you said. That seemed to be an answer they approved.

"Actions speak louder than wor-"

"I know."

You cut off Jade's attempt at delivering cryptic advice before storming over to the VIP Room. There was Azul, working on some contract or the like.

"Azul."

"You're not allowed to be in here, you know. There's quite a hefty fee."

"Azul."

"Yes?" He looked up, looking entirely unhappy to see you.

"I didn't realize that thing you were going last week was a part of octopus courtship, you know," you said. "You really should've told me."

"What are you-"

"Let me show you a human courtship ritual to set things straight."

And you kissed him. It was not the sort of kiss that I initiated fireworks, nor was it anything like the novels you'd read. In fact, it was an exceptionally awkward kiss, because Azul was an awful kisser. You didn't entirely mind, though, it was cute.

You both had to pull away because Azul was out of breath, gasping and wheezing like he'd been made to run a mile for P.E.

"Does that make my feelings clear?" You said. He just huffed, looking firmly at his contract.

"I- suppose we can work something out..." He muttered, gesturing to the chair across from him. "Why don't you take a seat?"

The offer seemed simple, but the truth of it was clear.

He was considering that relationship.

So you sat, enjoying the contented silence and the resolved misunderstanding. But there was one thing you had to get off your chest.

"You know, it's insane how bad you suck at kissing."

"Shut it."

#twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #floyd leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fanfic #i think this was actually longer than the first one loll

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mrsfudd · 3 days ago

Text

dangerous

You were Paige and Azzis secret. You spent nights at their house. You wish they would love you out loud but they simply refuse. You were tired of feeling used and decided to ignore their texts and calls. You went to a party instead of their house one night.

warnings: toxic paige n azzi, double penetration, slight drinking, slapping, denied orgasms, lots of degradation, mommy azzi n daddy paige.

sorry for typos 🙏

Paige 🙉: yoo when u coming over

You ignore her message and keep getting ready.

azzi 🫦: u home?

You roll your eyes at the notification and start to put your heels on. You got invited to a huge party and were going with your good friend Chloe. She had no clue of your relationship with the basketball players. She offered to pick you up and was honking the horn outside waiting for you.

You snap a quick picture of yourself in the mirror, you wore a tight black mini dress with a back cut out and some sexy heels.

You almost fall walking out the door and to the car. “Look at you, walking sex” Chloe praised as you got into the car.

“Im so excited, I haven’t been out in forever” You said drinking whatever was in the water bottle she handed you.

The car ride was 12 minutes long, you listened to music and took more shots. Your phone was completely muted.

Walking into the party felt like a movie, it was so packed you started to worry if you could even breathe in there.

You and Chloe immediately find the kitchen where she pours you a maybe too full drink in a red solo cup. You take a picture of the cups and posted it on your private instagram. Phone put away immediately after, still muted.

You could feel the music in your veins, bass pumping and lyrics barely audible. Chloe and you start to dancing, swaying and grinding against each other. You were so focused on you and her, focused on having a good time that you didn’t realize the girl saying “excuse me” next to you.

After her failed attempts she ends up shoving past you, you try to give her an apology but it ended up just being more of a laugh. You suck your teeth when you realize she knocked your phone out of the top of your dress.

You try not to get crushed as you bend down to pick it up, accidentally bumping your head on someones back. Once your back up straight, you decide to swipe up and check if anyone had messaged you.

12 missed calls: azzi 🫦

2 missed facetimes: paige 🙉

paige 🙉: text me back

azzi 🫦: ?????

@ paigebeuckers replied to your story: alright bet

You rolled your eyes at the notifications, what were they gonna do.

You and Chloe dance some more and then have an adventure trying to find the bathroom. Unfortunately the line was 20 girls deep. Once you finally are able to finish your business, you make your way right back to the dance floor. Not one care in the world.

You and your friend are having a great time, laughing and enjoying each others company. The place was so full with people, everyone was unrecognizable unless they were standing in front of you.

Your just grooving to the beat until you look up and see two very recognizable people. Fuck, they actually pulled up. They are so tall, they could see above everyones head, immediately locating yours.

Paige pushed through people like they were children, Azzi followed right behind her. Eyes locked on you.

“What the fuck are you doing” Paige cursed maybe standing a little too close.

“Hmm, im at a party” You giggle, seeing Paiges expression get angrier.

“Dont act fucking stupid” Azzi snapped, your heart dropped a little.

“And look at your outfit, your dressed like a fucking slut. Just begging for attention” Paige hissed looking you up and down.

You just roll your eyes and started to take a sip of your drink as Azzi grabbed your arm without hesitation. Her grip on you was firm and left a bruise for sure. She dragged you out of the party and all the way to the car.

Paige pushed you into the backseat and shut the door. Paige got into the driver and Azzi in the passenger. She started driving and said “ I cant fucking believe you”

“What did I do?” You say trying to act clueless.

“Stop, that dumb shit isnt cute. You know exactly what you did. You think you can just ignore our texts and calls and get away with it?” Azzi said turning back to look at you.

“Why do you even care, we aren’t together.” You say scrunching up your face.

Azzi turned back around in her seat, Paiges grip on the wheel tightened. The rest of the car ride was silent.

Once you got back to their house, Paige opened the door for you and started to follow Azzi to the door. You were terrified of what was to come.

You take a second to get out.

Chlo money 💰: Where tf are you????

You: sorry ml, got caught up in something. Text me when you make it home, love u sm.

Chlo money 💰: be safe hoe, love u 2

You walk in the house to see Azzi standing in the living room and Paige sitting in the couch.

“Hey guys” You joke but nobody moved.

Azzi walked over to you, uncrossing her arms and dragging you to the bed room.

“Strip. Your practically naked anyway” Azzi demanded as she tossed you onto to the bed.

You get turned on, they were acting so possessive. You listen, started at your feet, taking your heels off in a antagonizing pace. Azzi does not find this cute or sexy at all. She ends up ripping your dress clean off and breaking the buckle on your heals.

Once your naked, she jumps on and starts to mark your whole body. Starting at your neck, down to your chest, then stomach, then thighs. Seeing her between your legs made you feral, you started to buck your hips into her face but she didn’t react.

She stood and took a second to admire her work, at least 25 dark red spots were forming all over your body. Azzi walked away and Paige walked in.

She was down to a sports bra and some rolled basketball shorts, her strap was different, you never seen it. It was fucking huge.

“You already look fucked out, probably cause of all those bitches you let touch you at that party” Paige argued.

“I didnt do anything with anyone” you say trying to defend yourself.

“Yea yea whatever, shut the fuck up we don’t believe you” Azzi said walking in with something in her hand.

She walked over to the side of the bed and tied both of your wrists together, you tried to fight her but she was too strong. Azzi ties you to the bedframe, leaving you limp and helpless, then she grabs a piece of cloth and shoves in your mouth so hard you almost choke.

Azzi left the room once more as Paige started to move closer to you. She rests your legs ontop of her shoulders and starts to tease your dripping pussy with the tip of her dick.

“Soaked already? Your such a fucking whore” Paige chuckled while rubbing lazy circles into your clit.

You let out a muffled whimper as Paige slams into you. Her pace is punishing. You feel her ruining your insides, hitting your gspot repeatedly. You try to push Paige off of you but its no use, Azzi was right there. Her strap looked new as well, longer.

Azzi stood next to Paige and said “ You wanna be a slut right?”. You shake your head aggressively but Azzi doesn’t believe you. The tip of her cock finds your already stuffed hole and starts to squeeze its way in.

Tears stream down your face, the feeling of them stretching you was taking you over the edge. Pain mixed with pleasure but Azzi wanted you to feel more pain. She stuffs her dick into you more, Your muffled screams fill the room as they both start pumping in you. Since Azzi wasnt all the way in, her fingers found your oversensitive clit.

Your silenced moans and crys become louder and louder as you feel your orgasm reaching. Paige and Azzi take note of this and pull out of you. The lost of touch makes you whimper. Azzi climbs ontop of you and sits on your hips. “Dont cry baby” Azzi coos with fake sympathy as she wipes off some of your tears.

Azzi unties you from the bed, making you lay flat but kept your wrists locked. Paige had made her way down to your inner thighs and started planting kisses. Azzis pussy was hovering over your face, dripping in arousal. She takes the gag out your mouth “i-im so sorry i didnt mean i-” you blurt out.

“Shhhh baby, i dont wanna hear that shit. You wanted to be a slut so now your gonna be treated like one” Azzi said as she shoved her pussy into your face.

You started to taste her as Paige did the same to you. As you moan into Azzi, she starts to ride your face faster. You barely can breath as Azzis clit rubs against your nose and your pumping your tongue in and out of her needy hole.

“You like how mommys pussy tastes?” Paige asks while sticking her long fingers in you.

Unable to talk you let out a whimper. “ Oh yea she loves it” Azzi said grabbing a fistful of your hair.

You clench around Paiges fingers and she immediately pulls out, denying another orgasm. “Dumb slut thinks shes gonna cum” Paige snickered.

“Not yet baby, make mommy cum first” Azzi let out, getting closer to her release.

It wasnt long before she came, the warm and creamy substance coated your face. It was sweet and had a slight hint of pineapple. Azzi got off of you and before you could even say anything, Paiges mouth was in yours. Tasting Azzi all over your tongue.

“Are you ready to be a good girl yet?” Paige asked straddling your face and Azzi finding her way to your cunt.

“y-yes im sorry ill never do it again” You plead.

“Too bad I don’t fucking believe you” Paige laughed.

“Poor baby, look at this little pussy, dying to cum” Azzi said circling her finger around your clit, making your hips jump up.

“You wanted to be a slut right?” Paige asked.

You shook your head no and a slap landed right across your face, then one to your pussy.

“Dont lie to us baby, admit your a dumb slut” Paige demanded.

You swallow your pride and say “im a dumb slut” behind your tears.

A smile on Paiges faced appeared and Azzis finger was inching closer to your clit. “Are you gonna be a good bitch for us?” Paige asked bringing her clit closer to your mouth.

You nod your head but it wasnt good enough. “ Words baby, you know better” Azzi murmured.

“Y-yes” You whisper.

“Good fucking slut” Paige praised as she sat her warm pussy on your face.

Your tongue immediately goes to work, trying to please her. Azzis mouth attaches to your clit, making you moan into Paige, the vibrations make her fuck your face harder. You try your hardest not to cum on Azzis tongue as shes tasting your walls. Paiges hands find the sides of your face as shes using your tongue.

Your legs tighten around Azzis head as your inching closer to your orgasm. Paige is seconds away from making a mess all over you. Azzi stops, your confused but don’t have time to ask. Paige cums in your mouth and you swallow every drop, you try to lick up the rest but she gets off of you.

“You really thought you were gonna cum? Wow you really are a dumb slut” Azzi said standing at the foot of the bed.

“Why would I just make a random girl cum, we aren’t together right?” Paige said crossing her arms and shaking her head.

Azzi tossed you a towel and some clothes, untied you “ Go wash up baby and find us later”. They went to another bathroom and left you in their bedroom. Cold, naked, and not one drop of pleasure.

You struggle to get up and have a hard time walking to the bathroom. You look at yourself in the mirror, makeup smudged, dark red and purple spots all over you, hair ruined. You wash off all the sweat and cum. You put on what it seemed to be Azzis shirt and Paiges shorts.

You limp out to the living room, Paige and Azzi are all clean lying on the couch together. You walk over to them. “You look so cute in our clothes” Azzi coos. “ Look at her legs, trembling like you actually came” Paige joked. “ She probably got off on looking at us” Azzi added on.

“Come here” Azzi said motioning for you to lay between them.

You get comfortable and Paige whispers in your ear “Maybe next time you’ll think before you act, yeah?”

You look up at her and nod, she gives you a long waited for kiss.

Azzi goes into your other ear, “ Making us mad is dangerous baby, do you see that now?”

You nod and she kisses you as well. “Now, let daddy make you cum” Azzi said as Paiges hand dipped into your shorts.

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banquetwriter · 2 days ago

Text

୨୧ rock ୨୧

pairing: Bob Reynolds ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ lots of negative self talk, nudity (in a non-sexual way), kissing, Bob being confident, not proofread

summary: ʚ you always take care of Bob but what if you needed caring for? ɞ

Words: 1.7k

A/N: self indulgent… also I haven't written a full fic in like 8 months lolz

As you gripped the steering wheel the cold air from your car's AC blasted through the vents and what felt like right into your eyes. That plus the urge to break down and cry was making you white knuckle your grip on that steering wheel you desperately clung to. It was just one of those days.

Nothing seemed quite right for you, no matter how much you wanted and needed it to. You felt so ugly and stupid. And after everything that happened, you had yet to cry. So here you are driving home from a very annoying and pointless meeting with some higher-up in Val’s team.

You sat waiting at the red light, and your mind started to flicker with thoughts of a warm shower, good warm food. And a nice clean bed… wait. Shit. You were supposed to clean your sheets, but you never did… well, you’d have to wait for those to be done, but at least you’d be home, right?

You zoned out waiting for the light to turn green so long that you missed when it was your turn. But thankfully, someone blasted their horn from behind to remind you it was time to go. You let out a broken sigh as you approach the underground tunnel for parking beneath the old Avengers tower.

Your face scan lets you in as you park your car and head to the elevator for a very long ride up to your floor. You had the topmost floor of any other member of your team. You liked it. The distance you could see New York was beautiful.

But right now it feels cold. It feels cold as you walk in and set your keys down on the counter. You stepped into your bedroom and collapsed. Finally allowing the tears to spill from your eyes. Leaving a wet trail in their absence. You let the worry and anger from today spell from your eyes. Your small sobs started to wrack through your body as you let yourself go of everything you held in.

You hadn't seen Bob yet, but you knew he had arrived when you heard the small pitter-patter of his feet slowly bring your attention to the door. He peeked his head in. Your light wasn't on, but he could clearly see your tear-stained cheeks.

His eyes filled with worry as you sat up and just looked at him. He stands staring at you. You let your head fall as he rushes up to your side. “A-are you hurt?” he asks, unsure of how to help or even if you wanted help.

You don't answer simply by holding your arms out begging for intimacy. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around you, terrified as you didn't speak to him. Your tears fell onto his shirt. “What's wrong?” he whispered.

You take a shaky breath in, pulling away from him slightly. He doesn't take his arms off you. Just looking at you, begging you to please let him know what was wrong. “I-i’m fine,” you say, your words nearly catching in your throat. “I've just had…” You pause, looking into his eyes.

“Just had a really hard day,” you say, your lips slowly quivering into a small child-like pout. “Oh, I m-I'm sorry,” he said.

You dismissed his worry as you continued to cry. “No, it's fine. I'm fine,” you repeated as your voice cracked.

In a lot of ways, you were Bob’s rock. You kept him grounded, safe, and happy. You were always there to take care of him. To ward off any evil thoughts that plagued him. But perhaps he had been too selfish.

So selfish, he hadn't noticed your struggles. “D-do you wanna take a shower?” he asked. His voice was small, but he meant well. Whenever Bob had bad days or weeks when he couldn't get up, telling him to take a shower was always the first thing you said.

You told him it not only helped calm his nervous system, but it also got him clean and moving. At first, it was just a suggestion from a friend. Then you started waiting in his room for him to be done. Then, once the romantic feelings of your relationship bloomed, you started showering with him.

Holding his body close to yours as you bathed him. So that's why he suggested it. Metaphorically, you could clean all the stress of today right off. And physically get clean and cozy for a night of good rest. You nodded your head sadly as he softly guided you into the bathroom.

You sat on the counter as Bob began to prepare a shower for you both. He slowly fiddled with the packet of smelling diffusers. You had a few scents, but the lavender was his favorite. It sorta smelled like the lotion his mom would use, and while not every memory of his mother was a good one, the smell brought him so much safety.

He hoped it'd feel the same way with you. The shower's steam slowly built with the diffuser as he turned a lamp on and turned the overhead light off. Everything was prepared as it should be for a nice shower, and he turned to you.

His face was half lit in the glow of the lamp. You felt so broken. You were a protector. Bob needed you to be strong for him. You were failing miserably. “Did you wanna take your makeup off? Maybe…” his voice was quiet, but you could hear the tremble in it. You nodded sadly, scooting off the countertop.

You faced the sink, even with low lighting, the only thing you saw was all your imperfections staring back at you. You robotically took your things out of the drawer and began to remove the makeup that caked your face. Bob, being unsure of where to put his hands, slowly wrapped himself around your waist. Holding you flush against him as you finish your task.

You slowly turned around, his arms still loosely holding your body. “Shower time?” he asked tentatively. “Shower time,” you confirmed. It was the first time you had spoken in minutes, your throat was dry and sore from your sobbing earlier. He slowly slides his hands up to the bottom of your shirt, looks up, and asks for permission to remove it.

You nod your head, allowing him to remove the article of clothing. Even though he had taken your shirt a thousand times at that point, he always made sure to ask. If not with words, then his eyes. He slowly pulled it off of you and removed each piece of your clothing, You took a breather as you were finally bare and free from your restrictive formal pants.

Bob then took his clothes off and opened the shower door for you. Yet another perk from living in the Avengers tower: big showers. Big enough for two, that is for sure. Steam swirled around as you stepped into the water. The warmth filled the cold, empty part of your soul. Breathing in the lavender scent puts your mind at ease.

Bob yet again slid his big hands around your waist, and you fully leaned into his touch. The water hits your skin with a calming effect. Bob knew he wasn't very good at comforting, but he wanted to try. You deserve someone who would try. He just held you, trying to ground you.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly, his voice tickling your skin. You sighed, and your tongue peeked out from your lips. “I just- I feel so ugly and worthless sometimes. It's not just insecurity, it's like it consumes my whole being. And that meeting today, I just…” You shook your head.

“Y-you aren't ugly.” He whispered, his hand finding the side of your face. “And you are far from worthless. Y-you have helped me so much, you've helped his team so much.” His voice was quiet but strong. You've never heard him sound so sure of himself before.

“You have been there for me. For every good day, every bad day.” His face was getting so close to yours, your nose nudged him. Your mouths collapsed under the water, feeling his entire body against yours as he slowly started to consume you with his kiss.

He pulled away from your lips but not from your body, his lips dragged down your jawline, and neck. Each kiss was a promise. A promise that none of the awful things you thought about yourself were true.

“You promise?” you whispered, which did cause him to pull away completely. “I promise. I couldn't be in this world if you weren't in it with me,” he said, his eyes holding yours for what felt like years. “I love you so fucking much Bob.”

You could see his face and neck turning a bright crimson red. “I-I love you too,” he said in a quiet voice. Your worries for the time were gone, and you could just enjoy showering with your boyfriend. That's what you did as you lathered your soap on yourself and him. It's what you did as you rinsed off.

You dried yourself and put on lotion as Bob went into what was basically your shared bedroom. You stepped into the room and looked at your bed, a pair of your comfy clothes. (Bob’s shirt and some Sweatpants.) You changed into them as he sat on the edge of the bed, just admiring you.

As you changed, your body felt the exhaustion creeping in and how badly you wanted to lie down in bed, but at last you must still wash your bed sheets. And as if Bob could read your mind, “Oh, I washed the sheets today. Well, I did all the laundry. So we can just go right to sleep, or maybe we can eat food and watch TV,” he said with a small smile, proud of cleaning today.

“Sleeping sounds so good,” you whispered, sitting next to him. His hands hold the sides of your face. It was a small gesture, but one that made your heart swell. He moved his hands, scooting up the bed, opening the blanket for you to curl up on his chest, and that's exactly what you did. Lulling yourself asleep to the beat of his heart.

#bob reynolds fluff #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds imagines #bob x reader #bob reynolds #bob thunderbolts #thunderbolts fan fiction #thunderbolts #lewis pullman #lewis pullman x reader

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itneverendshere · 2 days ago

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Rafes screensaver being a pic of you and baby Autumn when she first comes home from the hospital, she’s just against your chest, and while you don’t think you look good, he looks at you like you’ve hung the moon

lockscreen shenanigans

Rafe never cared much for his phone’s lock screen before. It was usually something default, a picture of the beach, or a grainy photo Kelce sent in a group chat once.

That changed the minute he started dating you.

The first time he changed it, you’d only been together a few weeks.

He had secretly taken a photo of you sitting cross-legged on his bed in one of his shirts, eating fries from the bag while humming along to the music playing on his speaker. The lighting was shit, and your hair was a mess, but you were laughing at something stupid he said, all sunshine in your eyes.

That’s my girl.

He didn’t say anything and silently made it his lock screen, his little secret.

After that, it was always you. Over the years, he swapped it out for different versions of you—sneaking a sleepy photo of you curled up in his chest, a blurry snap of you dancing in the kitchen, your profile in golden hour while you poured a drink behind the bar. You were always there, greeting him every time he picked up his phone.

Now, the first thing he saw when he picked up his phone was the love of his life and the tiny miracle they created together.

It was a photo he’d taken when you first brought Autumn home from the hospital. She was asleep on your chest, her cheeks pink and warm, her tiny hands curled into fists. You were sitting on the edge of the couch, hair pushed back lazily, bags under your eyes, an exhausted look on your pretty face.

You’d told him to delete it.

“Don’t even save that. I look like shit." You’d muttered, voice soft so you wouldn’t wake her.

He had smiled, kissing your temple. “You look like a fuckin’ angel.”

You had rolled your eyes, retorting something under your breath, but he’d kept the photo anyway, made it his lock screen. And he stared at it constantly.

He subtly started posting it. Rafe, who barely touched social media unless it was to like a meme or accidentally reply to his friend's story with a fire emoji, suddenly turned into a guy who posted. It made his friends roll their eyes, sure. Topper gave him shit.

“You turned into a Facebook mom, bro.”

Rafe didn’t care, this was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

You. Autumn. His little family. He couldn’t believe you picked him to build a life with. Now he had something worth showing off.

Sometimes at work, he'd unlock it to look at the two girls who had flipped his whole world upside down, and he’d grin like an idiot. Didn’t care who saw.

Every now and then, you’d catch him doing it—on the couch while Autumn napped on his chest, or at 3 a.m. during a bottle feed, phone propped up on the armrest beside her socks—and he’ shrug, a little sheepish, getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You’re obsessed,” You’d tease, flopping down beside him. “You’re worse than me.”

“Damn right I am.” He’d kiss the top of Autumn’s head and then yours. “I'm always gonna stare at you like you hung the moon.”

He said it so casually, full of sleepy, reverent affection, that it made your heart ache in your chest. Rafe wasn’t just in love—this new chapter had taken all the hard parts of him and melted them. He still had his days, sure—he was Rafe, after all—but when it came to you and Autumn, he was all heart.

Protective and tender in equal measure, he’d rock her for hours just to let you get a nap, talk to her like she understood him, whispering about how strong her mama was and how lucky they both were.

The man who never got tired of holding you close and saying, “Baby, you’re unreal.”

Some weeks, you didn’t feel beautiful. Your body was still healing, the dark circles on your eyes felt permanent. But Rafe made sure you never forgot how loved you were. He worshipped you with every glance, with the brush of his hand against your back, whispering “thank you” into your skin.

Even now—months in—he still looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were real. You’d be standing in the kitchen, bouncing Autumn on your hip while you stared into the fridge, saying something about not knowing what to make for dinner. Hair up in a bun, wearing one of his old tees and the softest pajama shorts you owned. And behind you, Rafe would just… stop.

Mid-step, mid-sentence, mid-breath sometimes. The curve of your shoulder, the rhythm of your swaying, and the way Autumn's tiny fist curled into the fabric near your collarbone were all he could think about.

That’s my whole damn life, he’d think. Right there.

He’d be caught red-handed. You would look over your shoulder and blink at him, half-smiling, unsure.

“What?”

”Nothing,” he would say with a hoarse voice.

You’d scoff or shake your head, but the corners of your mouth would twitch. And that just made it worse—better, somehow. He was constantly in awe, even when you were pissed off at him—when you were snapping for leaving the wet laundry in the machine once or for forgetting to thaw the chicken—you were still beautiful to him.

Still, the woman who changed his life. Still the girl in the blurry photo on his bed, laughing at nothing while eating fries.And some nights, when everything was quiet and the world had finally gone still, he’d lie there with you asleep beside him, the baby monitor low, and he’d whisper to you.

“You saved me,” he’d breathe into your hair.

Rafe didn’t need the lock screen to remember what he had, but he liked the reminder.

#itneverendshere works✨#rafe cameron #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron x reader #bartender!reader!universe #bartender!pogue!reader x rafe #bartender!pogue!reader universe #rafe x pogue!reader #rafe x pogue!bartender!reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe x reader #pogue!reader #rafe cameron x you #requests #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron concepts #rafe obx

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juicebuck · 2 hours ago

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anyway today i'm thinking about buck apartment hunting. and how it's driving eddie crazy. how buck keeps talking about getting out of eddie and christopher's space. like he's in their way. like he's some sort of burden on them. and eventually eddie just, can't take it anymore. because it doesn't matter how many times he says, buck, we love having you here. you can stay as long as you want. you don't have to leave. buck's still being. well, buck. stuck in the belief that he doesn't really belong anywhere. so when buck tells eddie he won't be able to drive them home after their shift because he has an apartment viewing at nine, eddie's like, that's fine, bud. i can come with you. and buck's like, you really don't have to. it's across town and you'll be tired— and eddie's like, buck. let me come with you. and buck's like, o—okay. i mean, if you want. then, later. end of their shift rolls around and they're heading to buck’s truck, and eddie's like, keys? and buck's like, you wanna drive? and eddie shrugs, says, i had more coffee than you. and buck doesn’t argue, is too tired. it was a long shift. and well, he's a bit miserable. about going to see another apartment he probably won't like because it doesn't feel right. none of them feel right. so he tosses eddie the keys, reels off the address and slips into the passenger side. eddie turns the radio on low, talks. about that movie they're planning to see tonight, it's showing at 8:00. they could grab dinner first. about christopher's upcoming school faire. buck nods, mumbles something about baking cookies for him. listens to eddie's voice, quiet and comforting. lets his eyes slip closed. half dreams of eddie's kitchen. opens his eyes again ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes later. he's not sure. and—

blinks.

because eddie's pulled the truck to a stop. and this isn't—well. this isn’t the apartment buck was scheduled to see. this is 4995 south bedford street. and buck turns to eddie, confused. and eddie's smiling, soft, a little nervous. a little something else. something charged. something sure. and he says, want me to show you around? i think you're gonna love what this place has to offer. maybe even who. and buck's like, eddie, what—? and eddie reaches out, slides his hand over buck’s shoulder, thumb dragging softly over buck's collarbone. says, go with it, buck. and buck stares, nods. heart hammering in his chest. finally says, breathes, okay, show me what this place has to offer. and eddie smiles, and his hand moves, softly, slowly. up from buck's shoulder, over buck's face, thumb just under buck's lip. lingers there briefly. then he says, follow me. so buck does. buck follows him home. and eddie shows him around. tells buck all of the things buck already knows. and all of the stupid things buck told the potential subletters. meth lab jim. and buck laughs and worries his heart is going to burst out of him. and when they get to the bedroom, eddie kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him. says against buck's mouth, so what do you think? like what this place has to offer? as he presses his thigh between buck's. and buck lets out a breathless gasp of a laugh. says, yeah i think this is the one.

#yay #buck your forever home is right there #911 #911 abc #buddie

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zenithsturniolo · 2 days ago

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⇢ 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐆

♪ heart by lil tracy 1.2k words — smut, fluff, matt being crazy in love

matt was fucked.

his head felt detached, like it was floating a few inches above his body. the late afternoon haze made everything shimmer, and your silhouette against the soft grass felt surreal. he kept blinking like it would help him focus, but nothing grounded him. not really.

he swore his blood had thickened into syrup, warmth crawling down his arms in slow, sticky waves. everything was too soft. too warm. your voice, your laugh, the way you kept glancing at him like you knew what was happening in his head.

he couldn’t stop looking at you. couldn’t stop thinking about you. even when you weren’t around, it was like your voice stayed lodged behind his teeth, whispering smart little comebacks, rewinding shared jokes. he didn’t know when it had started, but he’d slipped into this so fast it made his head spin.

it had only been a damn week.

a week of talking to each other every day. of texting nonstop, casual flirting that stopped feeling casual by day three. you teased him like it was second nature. you touched him like you weren’t thinking twice. and he responded every time like it was life or death, because it kind of felt like it was.

he didn’t even remember what the pill was. something you’d offered earlier in the day— “for the headache,” you’d said. and he, being stupid and already too high on you, had taken it without question.

now, his limbs felt boneless, his chest tight.

“you good?” you asked.

he turned to you, dazed. “mm... not really.”

you were watching him, smiling like you knew exactly what was going on. like you could see right through him. and that smile— god, it hit him in the stomach. he wanted to kiss you. wanted to press his face into your neck and stay there forever.

“what was that?” he asked, voice scratchy. “the pill, what did you give me?”

you sat up slightly, your hair catching the light. “tylenol.”

he blinked. “what?”

you laughed, soft and smug. “tylenol, matt. you’re trippin’ on a painkiller.”

“you’re lying.”

“swear to god.”

he stared at you, the sun hitting your cheekbones, your eyes glowing like honey in the light. and even though he felt like he was floating away, some part of him clicked into place. everything about you made sense. the comfort. the pull. the urgency.

“what the fuck are you doing to me?” he muttered.

you smiled, tilting your head. “probably the same thing you’re doing to me.”

and that was it. his control shattered.

he stood, stumbling a little as he grabbed your wrist. “come inside.” his voice was low. firm, but not unkind. just desperate.

you followed, quiet, stepping through the door with bare feet and flushed cheeks. he didn’t let go of you. didn’t want to. he led you to his room, shutting the door behind you like he needed to trap whatever this was before it slipped away.

you looked up at him, eyes wide, lips parted like you were about to say something. but he beat you to it.

“don’t freak out,” he said, voice hoarse. “but i need to say this.”

you nodded slowly.

“it’s been a week,” he continued, breath shaky. “but it doesn’t feel like that. it feels like you’ve always been here. like i’ve always been waiting for you.”

his hand moved up, cradling your cheek. “you’re everywhere. in my head. in my hands. in the way i think. and i don’t know if i’m reading too much into this, but... i really fuckin’ want you.”

your throat bobbed as you swallowed, eyes locked on his.

then you whispered, “so take me.”

and that was all he needed.

his mouth crashed into yours, urgent and messy, all tongue and teeth and aching restraint. your hands fumbled at his shirt, tugging it up and off as he walked you backwards toward the bed. you broke the kiss only to breathe, and even that felt too long.

he kissed down your neck, mouthing at your skin like he was starving for it.

“you’re unreal,” he murmured against your collarbone. “you have no fuckin’ clue.”

your shirt hit the floor. then your shorts. and when his eyes raked down your body, he dropped to his knees without a word. you tensed, hands twitching toward him, but he looked up and shook his head slowly. “please.”

his hands smoothed up the backs of your thighs, lips ghosting over your belly, your hip, your inner thigh. he whispered little things into your skin. soft praises, half-sentences, worship.

he pressed his face into your pussy through the fabric of your panties, moaning low like he couldn’t help it.

“so wet,” he groaned, dragging his tongue up the center seam. “fuck.”

you whimpered, and that sound alone made his cock twitch in his pants. he mouthed over the damp spot, kissing it slow and reverent. then he pulled the fabric aside and stared at you, breathing hard.

“jesus christ,” he whispered in awe.

he licked a stripe up your cunt, slow and steady, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking just hard enough to make your knees buckle.

“matt— oh fuck—”

he kept going, hands locked around your thighs, pulling you closer. he didn’t rush. he took his time, flattening his tongue against your clit, then teasing it with slow flicks. he kissed your pussy like it was sacred. you cried out, hands tangling in his hair.

he groaned into you, voice gravelly. “you taste so good. swear to god, i’d stay down here forever.”

he licked harder, faster, and you started to shake. your hips jerked forward, grinding against his mouth.

“please,” you gasped. “please, shit.”

then his tongue was back on you, deeper this time, flicking and curling in rhythm until you were a trembling mess.

“you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbled, messy and drunk on you. “every fuckin’ part of you.”

you gripped the edge of the dresser behind you, knees locking, legs trembling.

“matt— I’m gonna cum—”

“do it,” he whispered. “cum on my mouth, baby.”

your legs buckled, a loud moan spilling out of you as your thighs clenched around his head. he stayed there through it, licking you through the high, hands steady on your hips, holding you like you might disappear.

when it was over, you reached for him, pulling him up with shaky arms. he kissed your shoulder, then your cheek, his lips slick and pink. he looked dazed, but happy. like he’d just found god between your thighs.

you collapsed onto the bed together. bare, breathless, tangled in each other’s limbs. you kissed the corner of his mouth.

he blinked down at you, eyes soft. “you okay?” you nodded, curling into his chest. “that was insane.”

he chuckled, breath still catching. “you’re insane.” you laughed sleepily. “you liked it.”

“i loved it,” he said. “and i love you.”

you looked up at him, heart hammering.

he shrugged, sheepish. “i know it’s soon. but... i do.”

you leaned in and kissed him, slow and deep. “i think i do too,” you whispered.

his smile nearly split his face. he pulled the blanket over you both, kissed your temple, and whispered, “i’m never letting you go.”

and that moment, tangled in the sheets with you, was when he realized he wasn’t feeling like that because of pills. it was because of you.

this is what love feels like.

a/n: had one person and one person only in mind writing this

find my masterlist here

🏷: @drewswife @k4urltzx @courta13 @briizysturn @y2kstarr @adorechris @dolliraez @rriverscuomo @sturnsblogs @mattspillowprincess @mattsplaything @sturns-mermaid @auttysturnz @sonnyangelsweetiee @izzylovesmatt @ribbonlovergirl @matts-girlfriend @pair-of-pantaloons @444sturns @weron1ka @grrrrcherries @matts-wife @thicknick19 @slvtf0rchr1s @devotedlyteenagemusic @adoremattsturns @slut4chrisloads @cayleeuhithinknott @lyingbymalcom @sturniolo1trips @chrissbxby @alexisa78 @ariheartsmatt @slutformatt17 @chestersturn @kenziesturniolo54 @malsmind @chrismoans @sophsturns @surprisecurlyfriess @sturnslutz

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wosov · 1 day ago

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trigger warning - car accident, death, funeral, guilt

It starts with an argument. A stupid, heat of the moment fight that Kyra will never forgive herself for.

Rain pelts the windows as voices rise in your shared flat, your voice shaking with frustration, hers tight with hurt. The storm outside is nothing compared to the one inside the room. The hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the wall clock, the occasional thunder, all background noise to the crumbling of something once solid.

“You never talk to me about how you're really feeling, Kyra! I can't keep guessing if I'm enough for you.”

Kyra stands near the kitchen counter, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her voice comes out sharper than she intends.

“You are! You always have been. I just… I'm tired. Everything’s been too much.”

“You think I’m not tired?” You pace near the front door, keys clenched in your fist. “I show up for you. I hold space for you. And you keep shutting me out like I’m a stranger.”

“I don’t know how to open up!” she snaps, her voice rising. “You think I like this? You think I don’t want to be better?”

The words hang in the air, venomous and heartbreaking. A silence falls, bitter and thick.

“I can't do this right now,” you mutter, shoving your coat on. “I’m going to Steph’s. I need to cool off.”

Kyra’s eyes flash with panic. She takes one step forward. “Wait, don’t…!”

But you’re already at the door. You don’t turn around.

She hesitates. Just for a moment.

She almost calls your name.

Almost runs after you.

But pride and pain win out. And then the door clicks shut.

She stares at it for a long time.

The kettle boils behind her. She doesn’t move.

An hour passes.

Then two.

She sends a text. No reply.

She tries calling. Straight to voicemail.

Another hour.

And then the phone rings.

A number she doesn’t recognize.

A quiet voice on the other end. An accident. Emergency services. A crash on Holloway Road. The rain. A loss of control.

You never made it to Stephs house.

You never made it anywhere.

Kyra drops the phone.

The world spins.

Her knees buckle.

Everything goes quiet.

The hospital room is sterile, lit too brightly. Kyra doesn’t remember how she got there. Caitlin’s hand is on her back. Katie is speaking softly with the doctors, both of them casting a gentle glance over her every so often.

But Kyra doesn’t hear anything. Everyone’s voice sounds far away.

And when they tell her again when they say confirmed fatality and immediate, Kyra shakes her head.

“No,” she whispers. “No, that’s wrong. She just left. She’s mad at me. She… she just left to go to a friends house.”

“Let me go home, please! I’ll go home and she’ll be there, pacing. She always paces when she’s upset. I just need to get home.” Kyra all but begs the doctor but it is no use. You are gone and nobody corrects her. Caitlin just holds her tight and Katie has visible grief in her eyes.

That night, Kyra sits in the guest room of Katies flat. Her phone buzzes once, then twice and then is silent again.

She clutches your hoodie to her chest. It still smells like you. Coconut shampoo and that soft, warm scent that used to feel like home.

She tries to sleep but all she sees is the last look on your face. The anger. The hurt. The slam of the door.

And the silence that followed.

She screams into the pillow. Bites her hand so hard she leaves teeth marks. Anything to not feel the weight of what she’s done.

You were right.

She never learned how to let you in.

And now you’re gone.

The day of the funeral came by far too quickly and Kyra stood at the front of the church clutching a piece of paper. A piece of paper that she had tried and attempted to cram her love and memories onto.

“I met her on my first day. I turned up late, full of jetlag, stiff muscles and annoyance after the airline lost my suitcase. I was already so nervous being in a new country and joining a new team but she was already there, waiting outside for me.

Flashback to first meeting

It had been a shit morning.

She had landed in London less than 24 hours earlier but everything that could’ve gone wrong, went wrong. The airline lost her suitcase, her phone charger stopped working mid-flight and to top it all off there was a screaming baby that seemed displeased about anything possible.

And now, now Kyra was late. Of all things that could’ve happened, she was late for her first day at Arsenal.

The taxi ride was a blur of grey motorways and random fields containing the odd cow. She barely registered the entrance of the training ground as the car pulled up.

Kyra checked the dashboard the moment the car stopped and she swore she felt her stomach drop.

9:32 am

She was supposed to be there by 9:00 am and was halfway through trying to convince herself not to cry when she stepped out of the car, and then promptly tripped over her own foot.

The pavement rushed up to meet her and before Kyra could even process the fall, she crashed into you.

You had been waiting outside. No one had asked you too. No one expected you to. But you had seen the schedule and the name - Kyra Cooney Cross - and you had insisted on being there.

Something about first impressions. Something about how hard it was to arrive in a new country alone.

So there you were. Jacket zipped up to your chin, hands tucked up into your sleeves, leaning against the railing with a quiet kind of patience. You had been there a while, but you never left. Not even where you started to wonder whether this girl was actually going to turn up.

But when a slightly dishevelled Kyra landed in your arms with a startled yelp, your first instinct wasn’t annoyance, it was laughter.

A soft surprised laugh that cut right through the tension and stress that lingered in the air and Kyra’s chest.

“Bit of a dramatic entrance, huh?”

Kyra scrambled off you, face flushed from both the cold and embarrassment.

“Shit, sorry! I didn’t see you, I mean I was late and…”

You waved a hand, brushing imaginary dust off your hoodie.

“Don’t worry, I won’t complain having a pretty girl fall head over heels for me!”

Kyra blinked. Then laughed, small and disbelieving.

“Right, yeah” she said (still catching her breath) “You must be?”

“Yeah,” you said, offering your hand out. “I’m the one who has been freezing her ass off for the past thirty minutes waiting for you” You spoke with a cheeky smirk adorning your face.

Kyra took your hand. And somehow, that was it.

The start of everything.

Back to present day

“I was already so nervous being in a new country and joining a new team.” Kyra spoke with a sad smile and tears glistening in her eyes. “But she was already there, a cheeky smile plastered on her face and an overly enthusiastic handshake.” Kyra paused to wipe away the tears that were falling freely now. “And after that, the world didn’t seem so big.”

Kyra took a deep breath before continuing. She didn’t look at the crowd nor the framed photo of you by your coffin. She just looked down. Down somehow past her shoes and starts talking like you are still here. Like this is just another one of your long deep and meaningful chats after training.

“The other day I went out to get some air.” She started.

“Didn’t even know where I was walking. Didn’t even realise I’d gone that far. But I turned the corner near that cafe you liked. “

Her voice cracks, just slightly.

“The one with all the suncatchers in the windows and the terrible oat milk. And that’s when I saw them. This person selling roses right on the corner and I actually laughed. Right there in the street just because I could hear you in my head.”

Kyra closed her eyes, smiling now through a shaky breath.

Flashback to last valentines day

Kyra barges through the front door, holding a bouquet of long stemmed red roses and a triumphant grin in hand.

“Look what I got you!” Kyra says proudly, like she has just won the World Cup.

You barely offer a second glance away from the tv where you are currently trying, and failing, to fight off a creeper in your minecraft village.

“Uhh… A takeaway?”

“Nope! Something even better” she states, still holding that cheeky grin as your village gets blown up.

You look up from the couch, unimpressed. “Oh, oh no.”

Kyra’s face drops. “What?”

“Are those…” You squint like you are trying to identify a rare disease. “Roses?”

She blinks. “Yeah? It’s romantic.”

You groan like she has just kicked your dog. “Kyra. Babe. That’s peak valentines aisle cringe.”

Kyra’s brow furrows. “They were expensive!”

“And they look like they were grown in a factory that also makes sad greeting cards.”

“They are predictable” you shoot back. “You have been living in England way too long. Next thing, you will be bringing me a Tesco meal deal and calling it love!”

Kyra stares at you. “...Would you prefer peonies?”

You pause, “Peonies have character.”

She groans. “You are such high maintenance.”

“And you” you say, plucking one rose from the bouquet and dramatically sniffing it, “Are a walking pinterest board.”

Kyra rolls her eyes and mutters, “Remind me never to try and be romantic again!”

You snicker before saying “Oh no, please do” you say sweetly. “I love watching you fail!”

Back to present day

Kyra lets out a soft laugh, the kind that hurts on the way out.

She made fun of me for days! She put them in a vase and labelled it ‘Kyra’s cringe corner’. Everytime I would pass them she would be like “Oop! There's that heterosexual energy again!”

Laughter echoes gently through the room, and Kyra’s eyes shine but she doesn’t pause to wipe the tears away.

“She hated roses. Thought they were a cliche, but she still kept every single one. Even dried them out and hand pressed each one to keep them forever. Called it ‘ironic’, but I think she secretly loved them. I think she secretly loved all the things she pretended to hate.”

Kyra swallows hard. Looking out at the many somber faces in the pews.

“I’d give anything to walk through that door again with the stupidest bouquet I could find, just to see her roll her eyes at me.”

Her voice drops to a whisper, as if Kyra was speaking to just herself and nobody else.

“And say something like, “God, you are lucky I’m hot.”

The church has now quieted down. All the laughter from Kyra’s earlier stories; the flowers, the pouting, the dramatic declarations of love. The way you would pout and cite psychological torture if you were left alone for more than 10 minutes.

That's all gone now.

What remains is a hush, heavy and waiting.

Kyra grips the lectern tighter. She swallows hard, eyes red, voice quieter now. Lacking the usual light joviality it normally holds.

“There’s one more thing” she says. “Something I haven’t really said out loud yet.”

She hesitates. Then takes a deep breath.

“We fought.”

Her hands tremble slightly as she folds the paper and places it flat on the podium.

“She thought I didn’t care. She thought I wasn’t trying. That I was shutting her out.”

A soft breath, sharp at the end like she’s holding something back.

“She was right, in a way. I was shutting her out. But not because I didn’t love her.”

She looks down. Her voice drops.

“It’s because I did.”

Flashback three weeks earlier

It started with something so small.

Kyra was late, again. She was out with a few of the aussie girls but was supposed to be back by now. You were waiting at home for her, pacing. Trying not to check the time for the third time in 5 minutes.

And then the door clicks and in walks Kyra. She walks in muttering something about an apology and a dead phone. You just look at her.

Her eyes flick to yours, cautious and wary.

“What?” she says, already bracing for the incoming argument.

“You could’ve called” you say “You could’ve sent one text.”

Kyra sighs, taking off her shoes. “I said I was sorry.”

You sigh, incredulously, “It isn’t about the text Kyra! This” your hands flailing wildly around you. “It's not about the text.”

Kyra’s shoulders go stiff, as if she already knows where this is going.

“You’re not here even when you are here” you say. “You sit across from me and barely say a word. You hold my hand but your mind is somewhere else. I feel like I am dating someone else sometimes!”

Kyra opens her mouth, to argue? To defend herself? But you cut her off.

“Do you even want to be in this anymore?...”

That breaks something in Kyra. Her face crumples and she shakes her head and opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out.

So you try again, one more time.

“Just talk to me. Please. Just tell me what is going on.” You plead with her.

But Kyra can’t. It isn’t that she doesn’t want to, of course she does.

She wants to tell you about the ring she has kept hidden in her gym bag for days. That she has been brainstorming location ideas with Steph, Katie and Caitlin. That she has been carrying it around with her. That every time she looks at you, laughing on the couch or brushing your teeth half asleep, she thinks ‘God! I want that forever.’

But she doesn’t say any of that.

Instead, she says:

“I don’t know.”

You stare at her like that answer physically hurts you. Because it does.

“Okay” you say, stepping back. “Okay.”

You grab your keys. You don’t even cast a second glance back over to Kyra.

“I am going to steph’s, I need a break.”

And then you are gone. Kyra lets you go, watching the door slam shut and thinks ‘ I will make it up when she gets back, I will explain everything and ask her to marry me. Everything will work out.’

But that never happened, and Kyra just lets you go.

Back to present day

“I thought we had time,” Kyra says softly.

“I thought I’d give her some space, wait for her to cool off. I thought I’d surprise her in the morning. Coffee in one hand, ring in the other. I even practised what I was going to say.”

She gives a watery laugh. It hurts.

“I was gonna say… ‘You drive me insane. You correct my Spotify playlists. You talk during movies. You never clean the coffee machine. And I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. Will you marry me?’”

Her voice cracks.

“But I never got the chance.”

“I got the call less than an hour later.”

The air in the room is sucked out.

“I thought it was her calling to say sorry. Or to tell me to come pick her up because she forgot her pillow. She never could sleep without her pillow.”

“But it wasn’t her.”

A pause.

“It was the police.”

Kyra reaches into her jacket pocket.

She pulls out a small, worn velvet box. It looks like it’s been opened and closed a hundred times. Because it has.

She flips it open.

Inside is a ring, delicate, classic, and quietly beautiful. The kind you’d say you hated because “It’s too normal,” but she knew you’d secretly love.

“I bought this a month ago,” she says, holding it up with trembling fingers. “I was just… I was waiting for the perfect moment.”

Her voice shakes.

“But the perfect moment never came. And then she was gone.”

“She died thinking I didn’t love her enough to try. But the truth is…”

Kyra closes her eyes.

“I loved her so much I couldn’t breathe.”

She swallows the lump in her throat.

“I wish I’d told her that. I wish I’d opened my mouth and said anything. I wish I hadn’t let her walk out that door thinking she was alone.”

A breath.

“I would’ve given her the world. I would’ve spent every morning for the rest of my life proving I could love her better.”

Her gaze lifts.

“I still talk to her, you know. When I come home. When I see her favourite flowers. When I open the fridge and find the stupid oat milk she always made me buy. When I hear a song she hated and pretend she’s next to me rolling her eyes.”

A faint smile trembles on her lips.

“She’s still everywhere.”

Her hand closes the ring box gently.

“And I never got to ask the question. But I know the answer.”

And then Kyra whispers quietly, intimately as if she is speaking to just herself again.

“She would’ve said yes.”

And with that Kyra folds the piece of paper up, her voice breaking as she looks up.

“I love you, still. Always.”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #wosov #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader

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tojisteddy · 17 hours ago

Text

pervyroommate!Soap has you riding his face for the very first time.

cw: 1.2k words, dark content, 18+ mdni, smut with tiny plot, noncon/dubcon, Soap being invasive/perv, fingering, face riding, cunnalingus, nipple play, light degradation, age gap (Soap 28, reader 24). Soap’s a bit of a bully (I like that), pet names (Bunny, bonnie,) naive!reader.

No, you didn’t mean for this to happen.

Yes, he did ask you such a crude thing while he sat at the foot of your bed like a dog as you finished up the last braid on your head. You were watching a movie, Soap was notorious for barging into your room to sit and watch. It didn’t matter what you had playing, Soap would get on your bed (or around your room), like he owned the place (and he did, particularly) squish one of your stuffed animals with all his might to see it reinflate, Louie the pink bear to be exact, and about an hour into your comfortable silence, say some crazy shit.

“Mind sittin on ma face?”

You simply blinked. Once, twice, and then got up from your bed, putting your hair products away.

“You’re shitting, aren’t you?”

You’d been roommates for a half a year. You’d been used to Soaps— let’s say, very odd tendencies.

A fuckin pervert to say the least.

He liked to look at your tits, likes to come behind you and squeeze on them, give your ass a slap, peek and watch you change, steal a few bras and panties he’d known you rubbing your swollen clit in. How he knew that? Don’t ask. At first it made you squeal, angry, hit at him as hard as you could (which was hard, you were heavy handed). He was an odd fellow, but he paid all the bills besides your half of rent, would even cook for you and didn’t mind doing it as long as he got to keep up with his antics when he came home from his missions.

So fine. Whatever. You’d stick it out. He was a good roommate for the most part, a little probing wouldn’t hurt.

But the more he did it, the more he invaded your space, you couldn’t help but squirm, scurry away with the growing wetness in your underwear, your nipples getting hard just from his being beside you.

Two weeks ago, you were fresh out the shower after a long day of school and work. Just going to the drive to get something to eat, you were in an oversized shirt and panties, curls every which way. Soap wasn’t here you could roam in peace.

It was when you finished, right as your plate hit the sink, Soap walked in, sat his keys in the bowl next to yours, eyes immediately scanning around your shared dark apartment, then at you who stood ever so beautifully under the stoves overhead light.

The ends of his lips curved.

Shit.

“Johnny, seriously. I’m tired.” You begged, stupidly taking a step back into the counter. Wrong move stupid.

“But ye look so sexy, bunny, is this all f’me?” Teasing, he took a few steps forward mushing you into the counter. You wish you’d been smaller, you would’ve been able to escape this, the feel of his fingers slowly grazing against the curve of your waist, he bends down, takes a nice whiff of you. Vanilla and honey, the exact body wash he’d been using up just to remind himself of your smell. So sultry on you. His hand went up, up, up, to your oh so perfect tits. God he loved them, would probably pray to them if he could. His finger brushed against your already hardened nipple and you shuddered.

How pretty. And then he groped it, slowly kneeding, and you tried to hold it back. Not let your toes curl, but he heard the moan behind your bitten lip, like music to his ears. He stepped into your parted legs, one hand holding you still while the other trailing down, past your abdomen and then he feels the little wet patch on your white panties. He groans, God, what a sight.

“Fuck, ye been desperate this whole time, huh? Been achin?” His smirk is evil, conniving.

You whine a no, no! But he dips his hand under the waistband of your panties, fingers going through your sopping folds.

“Why are ya soaked then? Hm? Need someone te touch ye here-“

“-I don’t-”

“—Ooooh but look at how wet you are,” and he thrusts one finger inside, he coo’s, “Ye need it lass, don’t worry, I’ll help ya.”

You can’t help but throw your head back, mewling as he works his finger inside your cunt, your hips grind against him on their own, more, more, more— “Yeah, go on, hump ma hand like the little slut ya are.”

His breath hitches, thrusting his finger inside you like he’s the one who needs to get off. Needs to see you shatter against him, your hardened nipples brushing against his military uniform from how close he was. Your gummy walls tighten around him, mumbling a string of curses as the pit in your stomach grows. Soap growls, “Sweet jesus, there ye go Bonnie.”

His fingers were fat and calloused, curling just when you needed them, he pulled an orgasm from you. Legs twitching as your foot stomped at the ground, moaning like a fool. He pulled his fingers out, lapping up every bit of cum that fell into his hands.

He patted the apple of your cheek lightly, “Good work baby.”

Soap didn’t do anything after that.

Didn’t even acknowledge that he finger fucked you in your kitchen. He didn’t touch you either. Just went to and from work, he’d greet you proper, ask if you needed anything or wanted to watch a movie together. You obliged, still skeptical of the whole situation. Till you ended up here.

Soap, still watching while you cleaned off your bed, a bulge in his pants, patiently waiting for your answer.

“Not jokin Bunny, want ye on ma face. Need it. Just this once.”

Once, your ass. That what he promised when he first started touching you. He just needed to feel once to calm down. And then he’d calm down.

And then you think back to how the past two weeks, which was full of peace and solitude.

Did this man— did he need to do the most vulgar things to leave you the hell alone?

Your eyes squinted at the bastard. Laughing out of shock, at how ridiculous this whole situation was.

Maybe you had to take a chance.

Just this once. Just this singular time. It couldn’t hurt.

You ended up straddling his chest, Soap practically salivating at your oozing pussy, hands gripping your hips. You were hovering.

“I-I think I might too heavy.” You stuttered, hand pressing behind you, at his stomach. Trying to remove yourself. “Cannae be too heavy, come on.” Johnny’s eager, too eager that he yanks you forward so your precious pussy is right in his face. He breaths against your folds and you squirm, more precum dripping between the inner pink of you pussy.

“What if you break your neck?”

“Don’t bloody care lass! Sit.”

You gulp.

Whimpering as your cunt meets his mouth. Soap doesn’t hesitate to make out with it. Flattening his tongue to taste everything you have to give. Sucking your clit and lightly nibbling at it.

“Oh f-fuck,” you moan, Soaps a fucking mess. Brown locks sprawled out on the bed, his blue eyes dark as ever and hooded. Your cum all over his mouth, glistening in your juices. But your hovering still, just enough so your over his mouth is on you, but you won’t sit.

He grunts, giving your ass a slap, “Swear to Christ, [+], if ye don’t sit, I’ll eat ye till ya can’t stand tomorrow.”

Was that a promise?

Johnny doesn’t even give you a chance, just wraps his muscular arm around you hips, and forces you to sit on his face. You cry out a moan, head spinning as he works his tongue into your hole. He moans at the taste of you, plopping you up and down and then moving your hips backwards and forward. You can hear his lips smack every time his mouth connects to your folds. His hands found your breasts, giving them a nice squeeze through the cloth and then rolling your nipples in his hand. Pulling at them till they’re achingly hard. Groaning when he felt your little hole squeeze around him.

“Jo-Johnnyyyy!” You whine, finally not caring what happens, gripping at his hair and grinding yourself down further. Your heavenly thighs lock him down and he lets out a pathetic moan, letting your clit rock against the tip of his nose as he ate at you like Jesus at the last meal. Your juices slouching everywhere with every movement against his face.

From his chin, to his nose, and back, swiveling your hips as the butterflies in your stomach began to build.

“Awww, wee girl just missed me. Shit, ‘nd I missed ye too, so fuckin sweet little thing.” But Soaps not talking to you, he’s talking to your cunt. Utterly pussy drunk, he gives your pussy a nice smack with two fingers, droplets flying down his chest. “What messy fuckin girl, gotta clean ya- mmph!”

You feel it, the way your eyes roll back, your legs shuddering, and you try to get out of his grasp because you feel too good being devoured like this, Johnny whines. Gripping your hips so hard they could bruise and sitting you back down where you belonged.

“Cumming- I’m cumming- hngh-“ with a gasp you let go.

Johnny only hums, letting you clench around his tongue, sucking every last drop out of you while you cry out. You swivel your hips on his mouth, rubbing his nose into your pulsing clit.

He lays you down, licking his pink now glossed -with your cum- lips, head still in between your thighs, “Fuck, made me all pretty Bunny.”

And Soap had to pray, pray to god that he got everything on that little camera he had hiding in your room that you haven’t found yet.

He’d be needing it later.

a/n: I’ll probably end up doing a headcanon of this cause pervy!soaps reader (and him) run my mind. Also reader matching his freak lollll.

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straows · 3 days ago

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Love me kindly; Sukuna R.

Request: @sejel

—In which, Sukuna wants to deserve you and your love, but he can't help but be a little bitch sometimes.

A/n: High asf rn, I struggled like a mf on salvia tryna right ts. Hope you like it anyway, got lost in the sauce n forgot what the request was like halfway thru

Sukuna tries. He tries hard, but for someone as old and something emotionally stupid as him, he fucks up.

Like now.

“Baby can I have a hug? My-“ You’d just gotten out of an argument with him. But you just wanted to be held, feel his affection love close to you and your heart.

“No.” It was blunt, and sharp. Fuck man he didn’t even look at you. Just kept doing whatever the hell he was trying to keep busy with.

You could only look at him. Your bottom lip quivering slightly and your throat feeling tight as you try not to cry. With a sigh, you just walk away.

Because you don’t know what he’s thinking,

You don’t know that he’s mentally strangling himself because why the fuck would he say that to you? He knew he messed up. Fuck he did, but he just didn’t feel like he deserved your love, your touch. He’d just got done hollering at you for trying to get in the garden again and help, because why do you keep doing servant work when you are basically his queen?

He could feel your soul quiver.

“Fuck.” Running a heavy hand over his face, he sat down on the bed. Thinking about a way to approach this, approach you.

You, who despite him being a dick 24/7, love and cherish him. You, the woman of his literal dreams.

But Sukuna didn’t apologize. No matter what. Not even when it’s time for bed, and you don’t crawl into his arms like you usually do. You cling to the other side of the albeit massive bed.

He doesn’t reach for you either.

But he can feel it, he can feel how it’s effecting you, and regardless, he doesn’t apologize. He won’t lower himself to that.

Not yet at least.

It was cold that night, but despite everything in you that just wanted to crawl into literal monsters arms beside you, you stay glued to the edge, curled into a little ball as you shiver yourself to sleep. All pitiful, pissed and precious.

It carried on.

And on…

…and on.

You wouldn’t touch him, wouldn’t eat with him, wouldn’t be near him. Because of course you thought he was tired of you. He didn’t try to reach for you either, he didn’t approach you. Fuck, at one point you even thought he was entertaining new concubines.

The distance was wide enough that you even started sleeping in the chamber with the servants again.

But after a night or so of that, of you not even sleeping in the same room with him? No no. Something had to change.

Your silence, your absence, your stubborn attitude had broken him down, even his pride couldn’t handle you ignoring him. Even though he really wasn’t any better.

Sukuna had tracked you down the second night you tried to sleep in the servants chambers. He easily pulled you out of there, ignoring your demands to let you go and to go away.

He dragged you literally all the way back up to your shared chambers. Sat you down on that bed and glared at you. Arms crossed and a pissed off look on his face.

“Woman, you have tested my patience and I am at my limit.” His tone was sharp, but it had an almost pleading edge to it.

“What are you even talking about Sukuna?” And there it was. Using his full name and not some loving nickname like you used that really broke the camels back.

“You will cease this. Whatever this is.” Sukuna demanded.

“I’m not doing anything! You clearly don’t want me anymore so I’m making it easier on you and me.” You snapped. It was dangerous talking to him like that, even you knew, but despite his ignoring you, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. At least not physically.

“What made you think that?” Sukuna was emotionally stupid. A fucking idiot.

“YOU! You deny me the littlest affections! You ignore me, you don’t even question it when I stop being near you as a whole!” You were loud now, eyes wide and brows furrowed.

Sukuna blinked down at you. Stared actually. Like some weird ass lizard.

“Woman, it wasn’t like that.” Sukuna felt a headache start to come on. He couldn’t handle this without getting mad. But he was trying really hard.

“Then what’s it like?” Crossing your arms, looked up at like he just pissed in your cereal.

“I didn’t feel like I-… I didn’t want to hug you because I’d just— brat you know what I mean.” Sukuna huffed.

“No I don’t. Explain it to me. Like I’m five.”

“I didn’t think I deserved your affections so soon after making you so upset. I was trying to be gentle with you.” Sukuna glared down at you, feeling unbearably awkward after saying shit like that.

You just stared up at him. Before softening, “are you being serious?”

“I do not joke.”

“Just hold me damnit.”

“Fine.”

You spent that night wrapped in each others arms. And as punishment, at least as much as you can punish a man as big as Sukuna, you braid tight as shit braids into his scalp.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x you #sukuna imagine #sukuna x reader #jjk angst #jjk fluff #Sukuna is mean #emotionally unavailable

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aellesira · 18 hours ago

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Hello!! Can I request pre-relationship Mydei x reader with Phainon kinda being like “if you don’t make a move on reader then I will” if that makes sense. Thank youuu.

彡 love he feels, love you reciprocate twice over.

pairings, mydei x gn!reader.

ᯓ ᯓ' summary, one time, mydei recalls a sentence that left phainon's lips that made him feel inexplicably jealous. [ 1.0k word count. ] content, rushed ending, mydei getting a little jealous, crushes + hi anon! i hope this is okay (≧∇≦)ﾉ

“So, who is that radiant person over there you keep staring at?”

Mydei had known forever that you had high standards, but no one could deny that you were not at fault — anyone who’d ever asked you out was softly rejected by you (or harshly, if they were annoyingly persistent). You didn’t want to date someone who, for all you knew, only saw your beauty and nothing else. An essential reason for accepting would be that you’ve known them forever, which did not come from men and women taking time out of your day who you’ve never met.

Even then, he fell for you too, just as everyone else did. And now? Phainon had caught on. And Mydei knew that Phainon won’t let it go anytime soon.

He’d like to shut him up right about then. Especially since you were right there. Out of earshot but close enough to hear Phainon’s teasing. “I’m not staring at them.” He mumbled, looking away. But he was. And Phainon wasn’t stupid. Phainon acted as though he just found out about everything, Mydei’s crush or whatever, and about you too. Although, it was blatantly obvious from the start… and perhaps there was something else that Phainon would never elaborate on. Yet.

Phainon, wanting to get something out of him, pressed on. “Yeah? They are rather lovely. I wouldn’t blame you if—”

“I’m not looking at them. I’m not.” When you looked over at the pair, hearing them bicker over something, although you couldn’t tell exactly what they were saying to each other, Mydei could swear he saw a flicker of uncertainty swim through your eyes before it passed. He stood up and dragged his friend out of there, missing the look you gave Phainon.

—

Phainon couldn’t believe how easy it was! To get him to admit he harbored feelings for you was like getting a cat to swim, yes, but his job was only to get him to think of you — who knew he already did? The snow-haired man looked on as he watched Mydei consider his advice — not that Phainon was some love expert — or was he?

All the same, everything was in motion. Until…

“No.” Mydei said abruptly. Though it seemed on the outside that Mydei had half-heartedly taken his advice, the advice to make the first move on her and see what she’d do, he was thoroughly considering your dislike for people coming up to you and asking for a date first thing. Although… he and you weren’t that reserved, were you? Not really. As Phainon suggested, the two of you were closer than most.

Still, he didn’t know what to do. Whether to make a move on you, or not? “They would reject me, and even if they didn’t, I know they’d be irritated. They always are, right?” Mydei didn’t know where this apprehension came from; he wasn’t like this usually, so…

“Yeah, but then it’s you! They reject people they don’t know, not someone like you — they’re close with you. I'm sure they’d think about it.” Phainon tried hard not to sound too desperate, but he had a job to do. He smirked inwards as he thought about how they were sounding like schoolgirls with a crush. But he had to try harder…

“You should, it’s better to try.” He grinned. “Otherwise, if you don’t make a move on them, I will.”

Mydei’s thoughts stopped in their tracks, disappearing like a snowflake on snow, ceasing altogether to try to register his friend’s words. I will? Did Phainon just admit to something? His eyebrows creased as he took in his words, trying and failing to mask his annoyance. Phainon wouldn’t do that to him.

Phainon, sensing the change in atmosphere, considered relenting — but he’d already said what he’d said — time to salvage this. Sheepishly, he continued. “What? If you won’t take them, I can. They’re certainly lovely to be around.” He went on. Oh boy, Phainon should’ve kept his mouth shut.

—

Mydei still didn’t know what to make of Phainon’s words, and after giving him a harsh beating (spoiler: Phainon’s not okay) he decided to give it a shot. One time, he decided to spend time with you, and you uncharacteristically accepted. He took you out to dinner, romantic as he could make it… and ended it horribly… not in Mydei’s eyes, though.

“Thank you for letting me take you out; you’re a good friend of mine.” Which he thought came out as very sweet, but Phainon was crashing out at him when he spoke to him the night after your little ‘date’.

“Good friend? Good friend?! You’re trying to take her out, not friendzone her!”

—

Sometimes, Mydei’s thoughts traced back to the time Phainon said what he’d said. About you. Maybe, Phainon harboured feelings for you too? He wouldn’t blame him — still… he’d seen you and him interact. The two of you were close friends, something he found out after Mydei admitted his crush. Maybe…

—

“I like you too.” You mumble, cheeks dusted pink and looking away from the broad man standing before you, although he looked more like a schoolboy asking out his crush. But he was, in a way.

Phainon was hiding behind a tree, silently snickering to himself. Now he remembered how you reacted when he first clocked that you liked Mydei, a long time before Mydei admitted his own crush.

“Yeah? You’ll help me? Thanks, Phainon! You’re the best! Can you like, ask him if he likes anyone?” Your eyes twinkled.

“Even better, I’ll make him jealous.”

That was where the line came from, although he never meant to make Mydei think that he liked the person he loved. The jealousy he evoked from his was quite satisfying though, and you seemed to like it too.

He came out of his hiding place, patting Mydei on his shoulder. “Well, my mission is complete.” You smiled at your friend. Mydei looked quizzically between the two of you, and his question was clear.

“Oh, Phainon has been trying to set us up for months! I told him—” Oh. My God.

At least he got the fine shyte—

#hsr fanfic #mydei x reader #hsr x reader #hsr mydei #mydeimos #mydei #phainon #hsr fluff #hsr #amphoreus #honkai star rail #— [ 𝓦𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. ]

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thegoldencontracts · 1 day ago

Text

Kisses

From this list:

1. Malleus—Lizard Kiss

The two of you sat there in a comfortable sort of silence. He was reading a book about fae, and you were doing schoolwork.

Suddenly, however, he stood.

"Tsunotarou—?" You asked. He moved towards your seat.

"May I kiss you?"

A gentleman, wasn't he? Malleus always did know how to say the most charming thing without even trying.

"Of course," you said. He nodded, chuckling lowly.

"Close your eyes, child of man," he whispered in your ear. You obliged, bracing for the inevitable explosion of emotions.

And then he licked your lips.

It was not a kiss, no. A kiss would imply your tongues at any point made contact. Rather, this was something different. You were deeply confused. What was he doing?

He pulled back, and you opened your eyes. He looked awfully proud of himself.

"What was that?" You asked, brow raised. "Was that supposed to be a kiss?"

Malleus looked at you confused, very much resembling a lizard, though the way he tilted his head reminded you more of a very sad puppy. Now you felt bad.

"Is that not how you humans kiss?" He asked. You fervently shook your head.

"What—?! No! That's not-" you sighed. "Here. I'll show you."

With a newfound resolution to show this foolish dragon the true implications of a kiss, you leaned towards him, pecking him on the lips. When you pulled away, you noticed he was dumbfounded.

"I take it you liked that?" You asked. He remained unmoving.

"Fascinating," he said at last. "For such a little action to feel so wonderous."

"Now that's a little far-"

"Do it again."

"Huh?"

"If you would please," he re-iterated. "Do it again."

You had a feeling you were going to be there for a while.

2. Ruggie—Palm Kiss

“What do you think of fairytales?” He asked one day.

You looked up in surprise.

“Now that’s a question I never expected you to be asking," you said. Ruggie snickered.

“Can’t blame a guy for being curious,” he said. “You can tell a lot about someone from how they answer something’ like that. Maybe they’re a dreamer, expectin’ a Prince Charming to come sweep ‘em off their feet. Or maybe they’re one of those folks who thinks anything remotely happy is stupid. But, ah, you’re definitely not the first type. You’re datin’ me, after all.”

He laughed to himself, a mix of causal and slightly self-deprecating.

“Imagine,” he said. “Me, a prince, pullin’ all sorts of cool moves to make you swoon.” In a caricature of a gruff voice, he tittered, “It’ll be alright, babygirl, I’m here.”

You laughed, both at the impression and at the words he spoke.

“It is stupid.”

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s obvious I’d be the Prince Charming. You’re the fair maiden swooning."

Ruggie snickered.

“Then maybe you should be pampering me,” he said. “Like by doing the dishes for once.”

You grabbed his palm.

“Of course,” you said. “Anything you desire.”

And then you pressed a kiss.

Watching him short circuit in real time was priceless.

“I- I was just jokin’ when I said that, y’know,” he mumbled. “I don’t need coddling-“

“Shh,” you said, pressing a finger to his lips. “You’re tired. Sleep.”

And despite his protests, he was out like a light.

You fell asleep as well. It was a lovely thing, you thought, the two of you, in peace, together.

“You’re still not gonna do the dishes, are you?”

“Ehehe, sorry…”

3. Leona—Ear Kiss

“You know,” you said. “You’re kinda like a big cat.”

Leona scowled.

“I ain’t a cat.”

“Hey,” you raised up your hands defensively. “That wasn’t what I said. I said you’re like a cat.”

“Give me one way I’m like a cat.”

“Your tails kinda flicks around when you’re happy about something,” you started. “And your ears droop when you’re sad.”

He sucked in a rapid breath, tail swishing anxiously.

“You’re making stuff up.”

“Am not!” You huffed. “Look, your tail’s doing it right now!”

He looked to it, eyes narrowed as if he were betrayed, positioning himself so his tail was hidden.

“Hey!” You said. “Don’t hide your cute tail from me!”

He just stared at you, eyes narrowed.

“I’m not showing it for your to gawk at,” he muttered, ears flattened. Cute.

You stood up, resolute.

“At least let me appreciate the other cat part of you, then!” You said.

And just as it looked like he was about to find a was to hide his ears as well, you pounced.

And kissed around his ears.

“What’re you—“

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked. Leona looked away for a second.

“Do whatever you want,” he said simply. You just snickered.

He really was a big cat.

#malleus draconia #ruggie bucchi #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland #twst #fanfic #I am so brainrotted for Savannaclaw rn istg #Also I kid you not I immediately saw lizard kiss and thought MALLEUS MALLEUS I NEED TO DO THIS WITH MALLEUS #do u think he’d be offended knowing i immediately associated him with lizards lmao

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bunnipuffs · 1 day ago

Text

୨୧ cw. cnc, mean! ellie, toxic relationship, degrading language, choking, strap use, no prep

match my freak !

it started out with those stupid little arguments you'd always have with ellie, petty behavior that you never grew out of. ellie was a busy woman—being a leader of an infamous mafia group, she usually had business to attend to everyday, some activities ending late into the night. you were spoiled, and ellie only has herself to blame. she spent thousands of dollars on you and gave her undivided attention when you first married, working from home and forced her subordinates to complete her dirty work. things were different now. ellie's patience wears thinner, and you're only getting snappier.

"i just don't understand why you can't get home early for once. your little minions can do shit for you, can't they?" you're following ellie as she shrugs off her bloodied jacket, something you're used to seeing by now, watching as she tosses it onto your bedroom floor. you're huffing out a frustrated breath before picking it up and throwing it into your laundry basket. "and you can't even fuckin' pick up after yourself, seriously, ellie?" you're walking towards her with a scowl on your face, your hand coming to meet ellie's cheek, a loud plap! at the impact. "look at me when i talk to you!"

you can see ellie swallow before she speaks, eyes completely dark with anger. "you're a fuckin' brat, you know that?" you're walking backwards, ellie walking towards you now the same way you approached her—but she was scarier, much more menacing, and you knew what she was capable of. "you have the nerve to slap me?" ellie laughs, your bottom lip trembles slightly at her expression, but you harden your stare as your back presses up against the wall. was your room always this small? "i pay for our food, paid for this house, paid for that fancy fucking lingerie you're wearing, and you still bitch and whine about shit out of my control?" you're gulping, saliva thick in your throat, almost messing up your next words. "yeah and? you chose to."

ellie scoffs, a mean smile on her face. "i guess i did," she's looking you up and down, her gaze heavy on your skin. the way she's staring at you makes you want to hide somewhere, anywhere. "but you like it huh? letting me dress you up like a slut?" you flinch at her words, suddenly too aware that you're dressed like this while ellie is dressed normally, her usual t-shirt and jeans. you weakly push at her chest, "fuck you, ellie, you're the one who bought it for me!" ellie lets out a cruel laugh, the sound of it pissing you off even more, a sweet sounding hum from her throat after. "since it was my idea or whatever bullshit you think, i can do this right?"

ellie's aggressively lifting up your lacy bra, a startled noise spilling from your lips. "what the fuck ellie?—" you can't get another word out before she's toying with your nipples, harshly tugging at them before rubbing at it with the pads of her fingertips. you're biting at your lips, so hard you're almost breaking skin, desperately trying to keep your moans inside of you—you didn't want ellie to know she was making you feel good, she didn't deserve it, but your self control dissolves when you feel her lips wrap around your bud, warm and wet, her tongue circling around your nipple. she's grazing her teeth over them, sensitive from her fingers, a whimper dragged out of you. "ellie..."

“what? gonna complain about somethin’ else now?” her voice is muffled from how close she is to your body, her eyes never leaving yours. she pulls always from your tits, “this is mine. this,” she takes a finger, lifting up the strap of your bra before letting go, the strap snapping against your skin—you wince at the impact, harsh and merciless, eyes glossy from the pain. “and this,” her hand is trailing down to your cunt, slender fingers grazing over the fabric. “all mine, got it?” you’re moaning at the stimulation, a sadistic chuckle from ellie, “you’re soaked, babe. does arguing with daddy make you all wet?” you’re shaking your head no, but ellie knows your body better than you do. she can feel it. the way you’re ruining your panties, the way she can feel you grinding down on her hands, you don’t even notice. “fuck you.” you spit, legs shaky from her teasing. “aw, fuck me?”

ellie leans in next to your ear, the hot puff of her breath against your skin, it makes you shiver. “go lay down and take off your panties.” you challenge her gaze, unrelenting and stubborn. maybe that was why ellie loved you so much, you kept things so interesting. she thrived in chaos. “and if i don’t?” her hands come up to wrap around your neck almost instantly, not tight, but a grip that has you stuttering. a reminder of what your wife was capable of. “you wanna find out?”

you bite back a rebuttal, something that was second nature to you, to fight back even when the battle was lost. but you decide to be gracious to yourself, shoving ellie away before walking over to your shared bed, pulling off your panties. you feel embarrassed when you see the wet patch—your underwear basically translucent at ellie’s toying. you toss them onto your floor the same way ellie had earlier, sitting on the edge of your bed like you were told. your thighs are tightly pressed together. the weight of ellie’s stare is impossible to ignore, you can feel the stickiness sitting down, and she isn’t helping at all. “actin’ all shy now?” she’s walking over to your closet, picking up her strap. the one she always used when you got bratty, long and thick. it got you to shut up real fast. ellie smiles when she sees you staring at it, like it was a gun. “scared?”

“i’m not.” you huff, stubborn as always. watching as ellie walks over to you. she’s sitting right next to you, picking you up with ease—you’re hovering right above her strap, the tip poking at your pussy, it already feels huge against you. you’re gulping, eyebrows furrowing at the feeling. ellie’s grinning at the worried look on your face before you can even register it, “you should be.”

you don’t have time to breathe before she’s slamming you down onto her strap, in one thrust, the painful stretch sending shivers down your spine. it’s big, and you’re completely filled in a matter of seconds. you’re screaming out a strangled, “ellie!” voice shaky and unstable, clenching around the toy—ellie can barely move, the tightness of your cunt gripping onto the strap like you needed it. “hm? what is it, huh?” ellie groans when she looks down where you’re both connected, your slick glistening on the silicone. “thought i should teach you a lesson,” she’s holding your hips, both hands keeping you together, sliding you up and down. “since you think i choose to come home late..” you’re moaning too loud, the sweet noise echoing in your bedroom. your insides hurt, but it hurts so good—and ellie knows just the way you like it. “you should work for it. you should know how hard it is to fuckin’ work, provide for some bitchy wife who doesn’t appreciate it.”

ellie’s hands stay on your hips, squeezing at the plush skin. you hadn’t noticed your eyes were closed the whole time until you open them, fluttering, locking gazes with ellie. she’s not moving you anymore. you’re cock warming her, her strap buried all the way to the hilt. the adjustment is easier now that you can breathe properly. you twitch around her, your cunt pulsing. “what?” ellie rolls her eyes, adjusting her hips—the tip rubs against your sweet spot for a second, a whimper slipping out of you. “fuck yourself, work for it for once, since i always do. i always have.” you almost tell her to fuck off, again, but you don’t. ellie wants to see you beg, see you weak and pathetic. so you slowly drag yourself up her strap, slick dripping out of you and down your toy. you can see the mess you’ve made on it when you look down.

you’re building a steady pace, moans of ellie’s name and blabbering, a mean smile on your wife’s lips. the slide is easier now, her strap thrusting in and out of you so effortless without prep. ellie can feel her heart swell a little bit, the fact that you take it—taking it until you’re sore and swollen, eyes teary and a dumb look on your face afterwards. she loves you, and this was her way of showing it. “yeah c’mon, it’s hard right? having to work for something?” you’re shaking your head, fucking yourself faster and rougher at her words. she smiles, a genuine one, “tryin’ to prove me wrong, babe?” you’re whimpering when her tip hits that spot again, an electrifying feeling rushing through your body, your cunt feels so warm and wet. “you’re gonna have to do better than that if you wanna c—“

you’re wrapping your hands around ellie’s throat, your chest filled with annoyance. it wasn’t how she held you, you tightened your grip—fingers digging into the sides of her neck, you’re leaning in close to her face. you hold back a grin when you see her eyes widen. “shut the f-fuck up, ellie.” you’re grinding down on her now, moving your hips in small circles. you’re close, abusing that spot inside of you. you can feel slick dribble out of your cunt at your own movement. “you told me to work for it, so i’m working. shut up and let me use you.” ellie laughs, strangled, her throat restricted. your eyes aren’t shut anymore, staring right back at her while you move up and down her strap. “think you can just.. hah, f-fuck, do whatever you want?” you’re bouncing on it now, the tip of her strap slamming against you—your thighs are shaking from how roughly you’re fucking yourself, your bottom half almost numb. “fuck you, ellie. you’re mine.”

plap! plap! plap! you’re whimpering uncontrollably now, your grip on ellie’s throat loosening. you slide down one more time before you’re cumming violently, pussy tightening around her, hard to slide back up with how you’re clenched around her strap. your entire body is shaking. you rock yourself back and forth, fucking yourself through your high. your breath is so shaky, coming out in fast pants, chest thrumming with how hard your heart is beating against your chest. ellie doesn’t say anything, a pink flush to her cheeks, her mouth slightly open with quiet moans falling out. your head falls into the crook of ellie’s neck, biting at her skin. “i think you complain a lot more than i do, els.”

tag list ♡

@whisperingcherub @hyperbabes

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #˚ෆ 🩰🦢 .° ༘

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13tinysocks · 3 days ago

Text

My Dead Girlfriend

Days pass. Patience grows thin. Deathbed talk begins. You pull the last straw and are taken somewhere new.

[Invincible Varients X Reader]

[Part one] [Ao3] [11] [13]

12 * Two Inches? [9.2k]

"Nice, nice!

Are you a virgin?

Nice, nice!

What color are your panties?"

Nice Nice - Dazey and the Scouts

"We need to tell everybody." He couldn't look away from that massive white thing. Hard-shelled with soft, crabby flesh underneath. His mouth watered just looking at its twitching mandibles.

From behind him, "No."

Baldie turned, brows pressed together. "Why not?"

Phantom watched him, feet away, keeping eyes and ears out for approaching company. No one was coming.

"(Y/n) likes you." He says instead of answering directly. "If you ask her to come with you alone, she will."

Baldie's mouth fell open. Now he was starting to get it. "But... You just said all that stuff about not splitting up."

"Because I had to." Phantom said, modulator softly echoing off the cave walls, "To keep the peace until we could talk. This is the safest way to do it."

"We can't just keep this from every-"

"You saw what those two did to her." Phantom cut him off, surprising even himself, "How easily they took her from you. I had to get her out of that situation. We only survived because they decided they were done playing. Do you really want her to be around people like that?" His throat itched. Vocal cords thin and raw after ten seconds of jabbering.

"Then we tell everyone but them." Baldie reasoned, though the voice in the back of his mind agreed. To take the hoard that was you and run.

"If we're all together, they'll find us. It has to be just us." Phantom finishes, cards splayed across the table, hoping Baldie would fold.

Baldie's mouth opened, closed, opened, closed. He knew he should do the right thing. Refuse. Tell everybody. Band together, kill Lensless and Scars with everybody else. Establish peace. Live with and eat bugs forever. Find friendship and understanding in the only person who could really understand what he went through- the other versions of himself.

But he just couldn't.

He'd waited four years in hell only to find your bones. Watched you be civil to the others, Viltrumite loyalists and enforcers and leaders. It made him sick, the idea of you with them. Any of them but him. Phantom must feel that way too.

He was no fool. Alternate motives were guaranteed in a situation as suspicious as this. "How long have you known about this place?" Was double-speak for, 'Did you find this before or after we ate a guy?'

"Not long." Phantom lies, "Three days."

Baldie nods shallow before spinning, neck cracking like a whip. "You're only telling me this now because, what? You think I'm stupid? You think I'm easy to kill?"

Phantom backed up, hands raised defensively. "No." He says, shaking his head, voice small, hunched over, feigning doe-ishness.

"What's stopping you from killing me when I bring her here?" Baldie's prowling closer now, fists clenching, "What's stopping you from just taking her yourself? Why are you telling me this?" Veins pop out on his scarred neck, pulse throbbing in his clenched fists. He's still angry about you letting Lensless and Scars go. He doesn't want, he needs to hit something hard as he can.

"Because you can make her happy." Phantom says, "And I can't." That makes Baldie pause. "I wish she liked me the way she likes you, but I know it won't happen. I'm okay with that. I just want her safe." It's a lie but a well-told one.

Baldie relaxes but not fully. "If you ever fucking try to touch her, I will kill you." He only says it because you're not here to hear him say it, because he couldn't say it to the ones that hurt you. Then and now. He had dreaded coming home from prison and you being scared of him, his appearance and the scars that festered underneath. But the you now wasn't scared, you were starting to cherish him. He was afraid now, of fucking it up a second time.

"Understood," Phantom said because this is exactly what he wanted.

"I-" Baldie took a breath, squared his shoulders, "I also need some time to figure this out. This," the bug queen, the cathedral, the never ending cache of food, "is a lot." But most of all, he needed to figure out how to tell you.

***

Your phone was gone. Off the rock you'd left it on to play music and die on. You'd asked around unhurriedly. Not like it'd be any help but the comfort of something not from this shithole was alluring. Something to hold and know you had existed before this and would hopefully exist after. But nobody knows where it went. Though Lensless (when you saw him next) claimed he took it and tried to get you to force him to tell the truth. You didn't even try.

Gray was dodgy, not about the phone, but about you. He couldn't seem to hold conversation with you for more than two seconds at a time before flying off somewhere with something better to do. He'd always been that way, but he'd been shorter with his words and was staring at you a whole lot more. Despite this, he wasn't a suspect. You doubted he'd want anything to do with your phone, even if it was working.

You were rotting and they all saw it. You couldn't explore long. The torches you'd been making out of soaked, then slightly dried wood and cloth never last longer than a half hour. You couldn't go to the surface, ceiling too high to even consider scaling out of. Not like any of them would let you anyway, not with Scars and Lensless roaming the wastes during the day. Hiding out somewhere hidden so those who wanted them dead couldn't even kill them in the daylight. Or maybe they were hiding, waiting to pick them off one by one. No one knew what they were planning.

Scars and Lensless always came at night because they'd yet to find another source of food. The peace was paper thin. They ate and didn't attack or kidnap you. Your horde of bodyguards let them stay in the shade for a few hours. We don't hurt you and we get to eat. Not exactly an even exchange.

Personal agendas were always thick in the air now. It was only a matter of days until the food was gone. They could go without awhile, but as soon as you began to starve, there'd be another death and another. Everyone was planning to be the last one standing, to die in the desert with you. The truce wouldn't last much longer but for tonight, nobody mentioned it.

Gray marked day twenty on the wall. He kept count for the sake of rationing. Meager scraps of what hadn't rotted remained. Only you would eat tonight, the small hard pieces of Emperor jerky that always got caught in your teeth a reminder.

Hopelessness isn't in the air, it's already sunken in, become a part of each of you. People were starting to think about dying or finding a way to make this all work long term. But without food? It would not.

The deathbed talk started lightly, a reprieve from their thoughts and the empty expanse around them.

"I could really go for mom's chicken parm." Maskless says, watching you nibble on small pieces of Emperor meat.

Tracksuit's mask fluttered when he laughed, "Your mom cooked?"

"Yours didn't?"

So began talk of Debbie Grayson. Another universal constant, but she was dynamic through the multiverse. Tracksuit talked about a distant figure he never liked much. Maskless implied kind acceptance, the love some of them yearned for. She stood up to Nolan and died for it. Mohawk laughed in his face. Bragged about how he came to your world partly to kill her himself again.

"Did you?" Omni asked, sounding suspiciously interested. Like he'd had a similar idea.

"Nah." Mohawk kicked at the ground. "Wasn't home. Any of you dicks find 'er?"

Nobody had.

Lensless claimed a weak, once loving mother who stepped aside when the Viltrum Empire came to Earth. Struck by grief at the death of her husband at her child's hand. They lived together through the change Viltrum brought to Earth. What was left of it after the slaughter Lensless brought down. She was a ghost. Wasting away as the world was rebuilt into a utopia. The last time he saw her, she was hanging in her closet. He said this lightly, with the same smile he always wore.

Scars grinned at the story, told them that Debbie Grayson's body would never be found in his world. Left it at that. No one wanted to know.

Gray was confused by all of this. The death. The alien versions of his, "Mother raised me on Viltrum." Turned heads. "She likes it there."

Baldie stirred, agitated by the idea. Mom was good, she was just. She was taken from Earth just like he was. Brought to Viltrum, not in a cell, but still imprisoned. Dad gave him updates in between beat-downs on his cell floor. She had stopped talking, stopped eating, had to be put on life support to stay alive. Nolan refused to pull the plug. He kept his wife unwillingly alive as a self-inflicted vegetable. Baldie wished he could've escaped another way. Seen mom one last time, taken her off that horrid life support and let her rest in peace.

But he kept his mouth shut. He felt if he opened his mouth at all, the cave secret would come spilling out. He hadn't figured out how to tell you. Where to tell you. When. How you'd react.

Phantom hadn't spoken at all since he'd talked with Baldie those days ago. Something about Mom and Viltrum made him spark, contempt thick in his voice. "As breeding stock?"

Gray turned to him, "That's not what I said."

"Dad said that's all humans were good for," Phantom said.

***

"Is she with child?" The Viltrumite doctor asked as they all stepped into the sterile room. White on white on white. Technically, only Mark needed to be in attendance for his physical. There had been plenty of appointments since he was the first human-Viltrumite hybrid and the Empire desperately wanted to know how he was developing. But his parents came, they always came because they cared. Humanity's customs had rubbed a dent into Nolan's character. The other Viltrumites didn't approve but he still conquered planets, if not more effectively than before- excited to return to his family.

"No." Debbie said firm. "We've already told you, we're not-"

"You brought the human woman to breed did you not?" The doctor looked square at Nolan. Debbie was beneath him.

"I feel it's better to focus on Mark until he develops his powers." Nolan said as Mark climbed onto the table for a full body scan. He was seven, small for a Viltrumite boy his age but Debbie was sure he'd hit a growth spurt soon.

The doctor watched numbers flash on a screen. Mark's vitals, muscle and bone density. Hardly different from a full blooded Viltrumite. "He will soon, Nolan. It would be prudent to begin procreation immediately."

"I said no." Debbie snapped.

The Viltrumite doesn't turn to address her. "You should consider your mission on Earth a great success, Nolan. We were unsure of human-Viltrumite compatibility before, but by the time he's developed his powers- he'll be strong as a full-blood. The Empire thanks you for this knowledge."

"Uh, yeah sure." Nolan internally wilted at his wife's hard stare. "But you don't need me to have more children do you? There's so many Viltrumites and humans to do that for me."

The doctor's hands balled to fists. "You know?"

It's a secret Mark isn't privy to. Debbie isn't privy to. Nolan knows. There are only fifty full-blooded Viltrumites left in the galaxy. Their bloodline thinning in other mixed races. The Empire is weak, desperate. Mark the greatest success yet.

"Yes," Nolan said.

"Then you know what you must do."

***

"There are other humans to do it for him." He says, the parallel is like a hammer to head. The population of Viltrum had thinned further since then, but there were still others to carry the mission. He could just... No. No, he couldn't defect like that, it wasn't like mother. The Empire wouldn't even allow you to be considered if you couldn't procreate. Even if he wanted to, he was stuck in the desert. No way of returning to his Empire. Still, he looks to you and finds a cringe he feels the need to reset. "The parents of our hybrid children are not forced into what they do. It is bad for the child's physical health if some human practices are not done during pregnancy and early development." Only in hybrids. Viltrumite babies weren't so needy. Remembering himself, a tiny, keening and a desperate thing, made him embarrassed to not be full blooded.

Your expression only worsens. You did not like that. He is confused, what he said was very humane. He left out the part that humans were selected by health and fertility, that many did not meet their qualifications. Some did not wish to serve the empire, so they would be killed until another was found. Rinse, repeat. After awhile, all participants are willing.

"Wait." Tracksuit's accent cut the tension. "You were on Viltrum from day one, yeah?"

"I was born there." Gray said, proud. It was like a badge among the lesser versions of him.

Tracksuit's fingers snapped. "That makes so much sense!" Gray doesn't ask, so Tracksuit continues, "You know, why you're taller than the rest of us!"

Looks were shared. "He's not-" Then. "Wait- Hey! Stop hovering for a second!"

Gray, who perpetually seemed to hover above the ground except for when he slept, did as requested. Gasps rang through the cave. Marks stood beside him. Hands going from the top of their heads to the middle of Gray's chin. All of them were the same height, except for Gray. Two, maybe three inches taller than the rest.

There was outrage from some. Gray did not care. Height did not matter on Viltrum, through he suspected his difference was due to a different level of gravity throughout his lifetime. Odd, yes, but he can only focus on you and your faraway expression. What were you thinking about? Were you not impressed with his height? Didn't Earth women like taller mates?

He is so focused on you he nearly doesn't catch Phantom's quiet words.

"She'd rather die than live on Viltrum." The whole time he'd been simmering, building up the strength in his throat.

Gray looked to him. Saw past his modulator and mask, and knew he was a hurt, aching, little boy on the inside. One he could've been, had he not been raised to be strong on Viltrum. Gray pities him, but feels no compassion. A bleeding heart was just that, a bleeding heart. Weak, soon to die.

"Your mother is dead, yes?" He says more than asks. It's a guess, an educated one. The human-raised among his ilk were too transparent with their feelings.

Phantom jerks as if struck, voice a growl like what he says will hurt him. "Dad killed her."

Weakness. "If she resisted, then it had to be done. She was not strong enough for The Empire or your father. My mother was, and she still serves The Empire." He says as if his mother didn't only have one child. As if he didn't cherish growing up surrounded by his parents love and attention. She had not done everything she should have for The Empire and he still loved her, his father loved her. He too was weak, but unlike Phantom, would not show it.

Phantom bristled under the mask. Tense. Ready to strike. But he looks at you. Remembers what's at stake. Forces himself to relax.

Mohawk's cackle hurts his ears, "Maaaaan! You can't be sayin' that shit to this dude!" His thumb jerked toward Phantom, "Dude looks like a school shooter!"

Phantom took the abuse on the chin. He'd take all he needed to because soon enough, he'd show them all.

***

Scars and Lensless touched down, made their gross, sexual commentary. Toed the line. Maskless built the fire, Gray marked day twenty-two.

You eat beside Tracksuit. Friendship an undercurrent you keep hidden at these fireside. The others would be weird, territorial. Scars and Lensless might fucking kill him. You hoped they didn't hear you pour your heart out to him about Mark. Knowing your luck? They probably had.

Another night of tension. Conversational scraps. No one had found anything in the caves or the desert. Until.

"Alright, I'm bored." Mohawk shot a pointed finger your way. "I gotta know, how was he in bed?"

You almost drop your jerky. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. How was fuckin' Daddy's little clone?"

You'd been avoiding the topic for days. Avoiding Omni for days. He had his own cot now, had for days, but he pushed it right up next to yours. Sleeping next to one another, ignoring his chatter, trying to get him to sleep on his cot and not roll onto yours in the night. All you cared about was if he would kill you or not. Since he wasn't trying, you didn't need to talk to him. Still, he tried. Over and over to catch you out alone and you continued to dodge. Using your powers to get someone else to be around. He was smart and knew the others shouldn't know. Liked keeping a secret between you both, until he didn't.

"I told you twelve times already, we didn't have sex." Your lies sting him. The first time you denied it, he didn't mind. It was survival. But now? You sounded grossed out by the idea of him inside you. As if your body hadn't been begging for more. As if he hasn't tasted you on his fingers.

"Sure you didn't." Mohawk snickers. "Yelling at him for that long?"

"Dude," Tracksuit swallows a wad of meat, "I'd tell you if she was fuckin' some guy. It's like, bro code man."

Mohawk snorted, "I'm just sayin', if we were alone for that long? You would not be yelling at me." His brows do a stupid jig on his forehead. You want to throw your jerky at him but you needed it. You'd used your reserves for the day on shutting Scars and Lensless up for an extended period. They seemed to come to the fireside just for your control. Work it out until your nose bled or you passed out, then leave into the night.

"If we were alone that long, I'd kill you." You say.

He bit his pierced lip in a grin. "I'd like to see you try."

"Say that stupid shit again and I will."

Omni had had enough. The secret was doing no good for your relationship. He said loud and clear for the whole desert to hear, "Is it so bad that I made love to my wife?"

Your jerky finally drops out your hand as you stood. "You-"

Mohawk slapped his knee. "Knew it! I knew it!"

"We didn't!" You glare at him, trying to stop him with your eyes.

Omni levels you with a too-serious glare. "We did and it was beautiful."

"No!" You hands go to your head. You do not have the energy to deal with this.

Mohawk clutched his chest, laughing so hard he may vomit. "Him! Him first?! Ain't no way!"

Your control on Lensless and Scars snapped. Lensless shot up, arm raised, "Me next! Me! Pick me!" While Scars watched you with a small, knowing smile. He'd already known. Guessed or heard somehow. You could never tell with this freak.

"Oh God." Tracksuit ran a hand under his mask.

"Wait." Mohawk stopped. "What about bro code? Were you in that pussy too!?"

"No." Omni said at the same time as you.

The unity made Mohawk stop laughing. Taking stock of the situation, the way you stood in front of him, trying to mask your anger in a way you wouldn't if he was lying. If he was lying you'd make him jump into the fire, but you just looked anxious now, barely contained.

"You actually fucked her." It's not a question. Omni didn't joke. "I should cut your dick off." Mohawk wanted to say little but considering they were the same person? Definitely not little.

"You will not." Omni says, smile cocky enough to make them all bristle, "But I didn't need it."

Mohawk's hands go to the shaved sides of his head. "Fucking-!" He'd done plenty of that in his day, especially since your death to fill the void. If anyone knew about meaningless sex it was him but you fucked him, another version of him, and not him him. It was a total betrayal, a slap in the face, a Coalition of Planets data pad under the mattress.

Nothing seemed more healing to him then being buried in your pussy. Negging you was flirting for him. He was just trying to get in your pants, then your heart. He'd thought the teasing would bring you closer together. He'd had a plan but now all he wanted to do was kick Omni's ass for existing.

He stood. Omni stayed seated. "Do you really plan to attack me, Little Man?" Mohawk doesn't see but feels his eyes flick up and down. It was obvious who the scrawniest was out of all of them, Mohawk himself. Nothing to sneeze at in terms of physique but compared to Omni's brick wall body? He stood no fucking chance.

But he knew his physique didn't matter, that he was more durable, better than all of them combined. And he wouldn't take such a insult in front of you.

"Yea-"

"Take a breather." You say. Mohawk shoots hard into the night. You hold control long as you can.

"I appreciate the assist, my love but l-"

You hold up a hand shutting him up. "I'm not your love or your wife. That was the whole fucking point of what we did." You turn to the rest, the official news hitting them all at once. "And if any of you assholes have a problem, I'll send you out until you can act like adults. Jesus Christ."

Gray felt strangely disappointed. You couldn't help the repopulation effort but you'd still had sex just to have sex. Why? He never understood why his parents did what they did. Never got to lay his version of you down himself. Baldie tells himself you're only human. Needed to let off steam, but he angsts anyway. Lensless and Scars look to each other. Seeming to physically brew up punishing ideas. Maskless didn't care. Tracksuit hoped Mohawk wouldn't come back and murder him over an assumption.

Phantom sat content. Upset, yes, but content knowing this information would push Baldie further to his side. All evidence of Omni's mark on you could be erased anyway- once Baldie was out of the picture. If everything went his way no one else would touch you ever again.

***

You sat on the ground in total quiet. Alone for the first time in forever in the central cave. You couldn't remember who was on babysitting duty or where they'd gone. You continued knitting garbage together on your bare arms. Everyone had a cot now, but you wanted a blanket that wasn't Omni's cape after that shit he pulled last night. You'd slept against a carved bench by the fire while he tried to call you to bed. You ignored him until the only sounds you could hear were the fire and your teeth chattering.

You were exhausted and your whole body ached, and every time you fucked up the technique, you swore. It'd been getting harder to keep your emotions in check. You were always partly starving, bored, afraid for your life. You were fraying at the edges and didn't know how much more you could take.

"Hi."

You nearly jumped out of your skin. Falling forward, scraping your elbows on the cave floor, garbage fabric falling to useless shreds on the ground. You twisted, ready to bark out a kill order.

Phantom stood. Hand poised like he was going to touch your shoulder but thought better of it.

"What?" You gathered your limbs under yourself, trying to look more composed.

He notices you're slow to do so. You were not as afraid of him as the others. Unsure, reasonably so, but not enraged by his closeness. This was a good sign.

He reached into his belt. You'd never seen him turn out his pockets, had no idea what was inside. Mind racing that he was going to pull out a weapon, superhero murder gas or something of the like. Instead, he holds a small flat disc. No larger than the center of his palm.

"For you." He held his hand out, palm open, waiting for you to take it.

You ogle the thing with a frown. "It's not going to cuff around my wrists right?" You remembered the thing he'd thrown at you in Sydney. What you guessed it was but it was never confirmed to be. Remember what Scars had brought with him to subdue you. You suppress a shiver.

"No." He says, smile soft in his voice. "I used this when I knew I didn't have the time to follow a suspect." His thumb pressed on the disc's center and out popped a suction cup. Another press and it was smooth once more. "I did a lot more work for the GDA than the others."

�� He assumes anyway. Those lazy, immoral rats didn't care about the planet most of them grew up on. Not like Phantom did. He did everything he could to protect it. He still remembers what Dad said to him that horrible day. A sneer as he said "his hobby was cute," right after leveling their family home, after killing you. Just remembering spiked his heart rate.

He forced himself to breathe. Be level, calm. He held his arm out a little further but didn't dare touch you. Careful not to set you off, the poor, scared little mouse that you were.

"Or," he started, nervous under your attention, "to keep covert operatives safe." He flipped the disc on its side, slid a hidden track down to reveal a slim red button. "Press this and I'll be alerted. I'll come right away." He slid the hidden compartment shut and waited.

He wanted to keep an eye on you. Keep you in the palm of his creepy hand. He wanted to...

You were always in the same place. Always under threat of Scars and Lensless suddenly swooping down and snatching you up. This wasn't about stalking, it was about protecting. After all, he had saved your life from them, and your own stupid mistake.

You took the thing, slow, like you were scared if you moved too quick his predator instinct would spring and he'd grab your arm. But he holds himself perfectly still. Feeling the euphoric thrill that is your fingers grazing over his palm through kevlar. When your touch leaves, the sensation lingers.

You turn the thing over and over in your palm. Testing the weight and muttering, "Where was this a few days ago?" Before sliding into the pocket of your soldier pants. Its weight is near imperceptible but you feel it tugging at your hip. A real, solid comfort. A promise.

You realize you're being an asshole.

"Thank you." You say. Hoping he doesn't take it and his promise of protection back. Machine Head was always so quick to take privileges like that away. You worried but a lightning speed pick-pocketing doesn't occur. You relax. "For this and the other day. Those guys are uhm..." You look up through the porthole as if they'd be there waiting. They aren't. You don't want to jinx it. "It's good to have someone like you on my side."

He nods. All talked out for the day. Chest ablaze with the praise.

"It's good to have someone like you on my side."

He picked up your trash and re-knit it before you could think about doing it.

"It's good to have someone like you on my side."

He brought Gray's cache of trash to weave closer. Sat by your side and passed you pieces as you went along. Quietly enjoying your company.

"It's good to have someone like you on my side."

***

Dinner tonight was a broth of Emperor's bones to be sipped out of cups of dry clay Gray baked in the sun. He only made bowls for those two because if he didn't, they'd have an excuse to drink from yours. It was not that he cared for your comfort, why should he if you couldn't help him complete his mission but... There was no mission in this wasteland. He tells himself he's trying to keep the peace, to do the most rational thing in a hopeless situation. You were needed for morale, the others and not his of course.

You tilted the bowl to your lips and let the poor excuse for hot soup slide down your throat. Scars watched your throat bob. Wanting nothing more than to drink the liquid out of your mouth after a long day of desert dwelling with Seven. He settles for drinking his own share.

Scars is watched himself. Nobody trusts him not to try and take you to the sky again. Maybe even take you away for good. He hadn't made his move yet, but it was expected soon. For tonight, he did the same thing he had for the last week.

"Stop avoiding the question, Dregs." Piss you off on purpose, asking personal questions and making assumptions about your previous life. You didn't understand why he did it. You always shut him up and he was too pussy to attack even with Lensless in a room full of your personal bodyguards. Sometimes you thought he was getting off on bothering you, on not letting you have any sense of peace. But he barely fought back, letting you shut him up and bite back.

"Be quiet." And he was. Thank God.

Your nose hadn't started to bleed yet. Your powers should be weaker from eating less and less these last few days but you were on a roll tonight.

"Why are you getting so defensive?" Lensless baited. "We've been plenty vulnerable with you about our lives. Why can't you do the same thing for us? Just tell us who came up with the name!"

"Leave."

The cave whooshes with a rush of air. The kindling scattered to the floor. Regathered by Omni before they can burn themselves out. You nod thanks. The cave was insulated from desert night chills but it was no camping trip, you needed the fire.

You feel your control on Scars start to slip. "Stay quiet." You close your eyes. Feeling power loosen on Lensless, even at a miles distance. By now, his mind is free but his body is not. You focus. Try to keep them both evenly controlled. You'd never had a workout quite like this. Regular human beings were so easy to control you were unused to challenge. Hadn't even had any resistance from non-psychics until that day on the roof. You wouldn't say it but the exercise was welcome but you almost started looking forward to making fools of them over the nightly bonfires- showing them all you had something they couldn't control. You.

While you were focused, Mohawk hits you where it hurts. "By all means, leave those dickheads in the dark but why not tell the rest of us? We're buddies by now, yeah babe?" He knows your hold would break if you added another Mark to the roster. You can shut those assholes up, but not him.

"None of your business." You grit out through ground teeth. Feeling Lensless's mind wriggle in your hold. You clamp the mental prongs down.

He really shouldn't agitate you but you'd been avoiding him for days now. He just needed you to look at him again after that moment of union in the caves. "I think it is," Omni says.

Mohawks brows shoot up in surprise but he takes the advantage, willing to work with anyone if it meant getting under your skin. "See, babe? Everyone wants to know, even this shithead."

You scowl at Omni, concentration waning. Scars mentally slashing at your power with steely claws.

"Shut up."

"Think of it like a campfire story, ya'know. You can even change the names around if ya want." You don't budge. Mohawk pouts, "Come oooonnn, I showed you mine, you show me yours isn't that how the sayin' goes?"

"I said," your eyes snap open, control gone from the others, "shut up."

It's Mohawk's turn to go quiet. Lensless returned to the fire in a snap that again, scatters the wood. The fire is restacked before you notice a change in light.

"Idiot." You tsk at a finally shut up Mohawk.

"Did I miss anything?" Lensless asked.

"Just our dear Dregs getting defensive over the tiniest of questions." Scars said.

"I'm not defensive." You say, defensively.

"Then tell us." Mohawk goaded. Your hold already gone with your concentration.

"Yeah, I wanna know why you're so hot and evil and stuff." Lensless said.

You scowled. None of them were stopping this line of questioning. Why the hell was Mohawk working with Scars, who he tried to kill last week, to get information out of you? Why the hell weren't Phantom or Gray stopping this?

On the flip side, Phantom wanted to know. He knew you'd be upset if he asked. But the cool-headed image of him in your head wouldn't crack if he stayed quiet. When you stopped being angry you'd think it was survival move to stay quiet. Not speak against the majority.

Gray shouldn't let the tensions rise, he knew, but you were so vexing. All he needed to do was let the others crack your brain open for him.

Baldie tried to stop it, weakly. "She doesn't want to talk." Said as a mutter because he craved knowing all of you, but knew if he said nothing, you'd be pissed.

"Stop white-knighting, dude, she's not gonna fuck you." Mohawk said and that shut him up. Fighting all of them was a stupid idea. But leaving in a huff, leaving you alone, was a stupider idea. The best thing he could do was sit by your side as silent moral support. Back your play.

"I'm not fucking any of you." You say.

Mohawk scoffed. "You fucked Wonder Boy over there."

You lean forward, elbows to knees, "Yeah, and not you." That made his smirk crumple.

He forced it to bounce back. "Not yet."

"Mmm, no." You say, a lilt in your voice, "Thing is, I just don't think you're all that attractive." It's a lie but one you try to sell. Happy to bruise an ego. "I never thought the Mark in my timeline was either. With him," you jerk your head toward Omni, "I just needed stress relief and we were in the dark, so who really cares?"

Mohawk's lips purse like he'd sucked a lemon. "Funny you say that." He shifted, pulling something out of his back pocket.

Your phone. Caligula's belly flashing on the lock screen, fully charged.

"Give me that." You don't want to waste what power you have left, not yet. "How is that even working?"

"No shot." His shit-eating grin returns, "You could'a been explorin' the caves all this time, playing your stupid music-" Your eyes shift around, wondering who told. "We got crazy tech in these suits, babe. I had Art put a phone charger in mine cuz I kept missing your calls while I was workin' and you'd get pissed!" He slid the phone into a seam on his bicep, surly enough the charging sound dinged. He pulled it out. "-But you didn't think to ask cuz you're such a prissy bitch."

"You want to call me that again?" It's a dare.

One he doesn't take because he has the upper hand. "So I started goin' through ya phone." He flips it to himself and unlocks it with a swipe of the thumb. "Can't believe your passcode's the same." He laughs, tapping at the screen.

"Oh no, you beat my Tetris Lite high score." You say, because there's nothing incriminating on your phone. Aside from vague text chats with Machine Head and Isotope. "What's your point?"

"I'm so glad you asked." A few more taps and he where he wanted to be. An old photo album automatically downloaded to your phone from the cloud. You never looked at it, never cared to. Images carried over from your old phone before Machine Head issued you a new one, decked out with all sorts of encryption tech for secure messaging and calls. You didn't need pictures of your old work schedule or study notes from high school. But you never found the time or energy to delete them.

He flipped the phone over, stretched out his arm and panned the image around the circle. Letting everybody take in the truth. You, five years ago, kissing Mark's cheek, him grinning stupid at the screen. Your third or fourth date, the best so far. It had been your lock screen for months.

"Still think I'm unattractive?" Mohawk smirked.

Caught red handed. Your words catch in your throat. All of them processing what you had been to Mark. Even in the vaguest terms. Their hopeful puppy dog eyes. The memory of being happy and younger.

Mohawk started swiping through the pictures. One after another, in the short moments after the first. A cheek kiss to a lip kiss, the both of you blushing and smiling. "Doesn't this bring back memories, babe?"

Phantom feels his heart melt. He'd taken those same photos with you. Lensless had too, though with a lot more tongue. Baldie had too, but he'd been too shy to go in for a kiss on the lips. Omni was never one for selfies, thought they were a waste of time. But that didn't stop him from collecting photos, asking friends or strangers to snap some when you were out. He remembers you making fun of him for how serious he always took it. Mohawk had plenty pictures of you on his phone that he hadn't brought along. Mostly of your eyes looking up at him pleadingly, lips stretched over his cock, tears messy on red cheeks. He was deeply disappointed not to find anything similar on your phone. Scars didn't know you young, but liked where this was going. The look on your face, the rage, the humiliation- oh so sweet.

Gray did not have any photos of you. Photos for fun weren't a thing on Viltrum. Tracksuit had plenty of nudes on his phone, mostly of himself. Now, he was glad he hadn't brought his phone. A little glad he was witnessing true reality TV trash in real time but still, he felt bad for you but- come on, drama like this doesn't come around every day. Maskless watched on less enthused. Here we go, more het-slop drama. Fantastic.

"Give me that," you warn low, "give me that right now." You're saving your power now. Strategizing how to hurt him best in one big burst.

"Or what? You'll tell me to shut up?" He swipes through another photo. Mark's back to the camera, your head over his shoulder, locked in a hug. "Man," he whistles through his teeth, "you've got a lot of these. Wanna know the best part?" He asks the others, not you. "These are years old and she still has 'em-"

"I meant to delete them!" You can't help the outburst.

"And I went through 'em all, we stop showing up right around..." He stopped at your last photo of Mark. "Here. 'Bout five years ago," according to the photo app metadata. Mark sat across from the camera at a fancy dinner table. He was late to his own reservation, leaving you embarrassed and feeling like an inconsiderate dickhead. But when he came with roses in hand and you forgave him right away. You'd never been on a date like that again because not long after- you were through.

"Shit," Lensless took the phone, Mohawk let him have it, "We rock a suit, huh?"

Scars leaned over his shoulder. Frankly disgusted by how sweet his own face could look. "Rocked her right after this picture was taken I wager."

"No!" You should kill them all. Like, actually. You couldn't do them all at once though, you were deciding who to hurt.

"Why haven't you taken any pictures with him in that long, huh?" Mohawk went on. "Trouble in paradise, babe? You know, you'd never have any with me." Bullshit.

Omni took the phone out of Lensless's hand. Swiped through the photos himself. You looked so sweet, so happy, and alive. Nothing like you did now, with your dead-tired eyes and permanent scowl. He knew what happened to you in vague terms, the jail sentence and the subsequent assassin position. He jumped to the conclusion that this dimensions version of him was a stupid fuck up who didn't put a ring on it, and couldn't protect you from the world. He'd given up on you like a fool. But it was lucky for him, he supposed. He knew for sure now, despite your denials of his love, you could and would love him back. One day.

"We were friends." You lie back, "He was just affectionate-"

"Friends?" Mohawk cackles, "Yeah, cuz I tongue-fuck all my homies. Really, babe? I thought you'd come up with something better than that. What? Are you embarrassed?" Clearly, you were. "Cuz you kept alllll these pictures after he broke up with you?" It's a guess but dead on.

The quiet rage is confirmation enough.

There is a collective internal glow of pride in everyone. You were in love with him at some point. Some part of you kept the evidence. You could love him back, the collective thought. Save for Tracksuit and Maskless, who were both thinking this was a little much. Who both felt bad for you. Who both knew they'd rip Mohawk's skin off if they were in your shoes, but make no move to do so.

Mohawk didn't know when to stop, slinking forward to get in your face. "Aww, baby... Are you still in love with him? That's so stupid and sad."

"Punch yourself in the balls. Hard as you can."

You feel a rush of air and he's on the floor, writhing, clutching his family jewels, tears pricking the edges of his eyes before you can process your nose starting to bleed. You wobble on your feet, avoiding Baldie's balancing touch. You turn to Omni with Gray hovering behind him. Feeling things he couldn't truly explain.

You say, "Crush it." Before you consider that you'd need the flashlight.

Glass and metal splinter to the ground. Omni opened his hand, impressed you controlled him like that, but he doesn't think it'll happen again. Blood is coming out your nose in thick drops now. You wipe them away with the back of your hand. Head starting to throb as you walk slow, purposeful back to Mohawk. Still groaning.

You kneel. Everyone falling away but the two of you. Him in sweet, glorious pain, and you high off his agony. "You wanna know who gave me that name so bad?" His face is to the ground, trying to hide how much it hurts like the tough guy he is. You grab his hair in your fist, pulling his head up easily because despite everything, he'd always melt in to your touch. "You did."

They want answers so bad- they'll get 'em.

"My boss Machine Head, that robo-dick I murdered- he took it and ran with it because it upset me. You said I was the dregs of society- something stupid like that- and left me to rot. He thought it was so funny Dregs, his de facto murder-torture guy, isn't that nice? I was his favorite, you know? Machine Head always had these fucked up requests and I'd do it because I didn't care. I knew he wouldn't check, not because he trusted me, but because he knew I had nothing else. One guy, I made him skin himself alive with a potato peeler. Got pretty far before his body shut down. Another, I made him choose who to shoot first, his wife or his mistress- they both died, yeah, but man, him turning on his wife like that? Crazy." You didn't mean to ramble but you were. You were just so pent-up and angry, that a reminder of your Mark, the life you could've had, had you unwinding yard by yard. It was easy letting their flawed logic win for once, and it felt damn good. They had hurt you.

"I could've been something. When I met Cecil, he wanted me to work for him. Mark could've made that happen, but he let me fuck around New York murdering people for some drug-running robot dickhead." Mohawk's eyes began to clear of pain. Were rapt on you and your anger and how transparently awful you were. "I loved him so much, and now-" He's looking at you like he loves you and you hate it; say the nastiest thing you can think of, "If I ever get back, I'm killing his family, starting with that dumb bitch Eve. So no, you stupid motherfucker, I'm never going to love you and I'm never letting you fuck me."

You stand, emboldened by the silence. "Any more questions?" You only look at Mohawk. Curled, clutching his balls, but slowly, purposefully smiling at you.

"I think that about covers it." He says, voice weedy.

"Can you do me next?" Lensless asked.

You were sapped of power. Couldn't if you wanted to. You also shouldn't, he'd cum but still, he'd hurt and you wanted them all to hurt. You say nothing, gather up a premade torch. Held it out to Tracksuit to light with friction- much quicker than the fire that didn't much like damp-ish cloth. He does, no questions asked. He'd also want to take a hike after all that.

You picked a cave and started. Not before saying, "Fuck you all."

Then you were off. You don't let yourself stop and cry until you were triple sure you were out of hearing range. Even then, you go further, further, until your torch burnt down to the quick and singed your hand. You drop it, clasping the skin, crumbling to the ground as the first angry tears sprang forth.

You hated them. You wanted them to die but you needed them to survive. Why couldn't they just be normal? Couldn't they understand you were a different person? And now they knew your dirty secret. Sure to hold it over your neck like a guillotine.

You'd scream but they'd hear. Come running. Come mocking. So you sob as quietly as you can into your hands.

"I'm sorry he did that to you." He says.

You jump. Grab the smoldering remains of the torch off the ground and throw it at the voice, despite how it burns your hand. "Go away!"

The torch bounced off Baldie's chest, fell to the ground, all light dead on impact.

"I know you're upset but..." He knows Phantom is near. Lurking. Can hear his mostly disguised breathing. He'd left after you when the bickering fizzled and Lensless and Scars left out of boredom. Phantom followed because he knew- Baldie had made up his mind.

"Upset? I'm not upset!" You forcefully rub at your cheeks. "This is nothing."

He frowns, though you can't see it. "I have something to show you."

"I don't care." You say. "I don't want to see anything that isn't Mark's dead body. Okay? Just-" You take a wobbly breath, "Fuck off. I can't do this anymore."

The admission almost pulls a sob out of you, and you have to fight to hold it in.

"I know," it's soft, "I know, that's why I need to show you. You don't have to see any of them."

You're fighting to hold in sobs, barely processing what he says, "Please. Just go."

"(Y/n) I-"

"Die." You splutter without power, "Just drop dead or go away. I'm done." Soon as the words come out your hands go to your head. You almost did it again. You didn't want him to die, not really.

The sobs come harder. You're hysterical. Soon to crack and scream and then he wouldn't be alone with you anymore.

He scoops you up in his arms. Apologizing, keeping his grip gentle as possible as he flew deeper into the caves. Back to the hidden entrance he'd visited and re-visited since Phantom told him of its existence. You beat your fists against his chest, his neck, his face, but he couldn't be angry at you. He was angry at them for making you feel so low.

He doesn't speak as he moves the rock, floating inside, and sealing the tomb behind you both. He sees Phantom's silhouette as the rock slid flush to the wall. An agreement passed quietly between them.

You heard movement, unable to place the exact sound. Like Styrofoam peanuts squeaking past one another. But there was no way there'd be Styrofoam peanuts here. You blink, looking around but seeing nothing in the absolute dark. The air felt different here, wetter, smelling of sod and sulfur.

"One sec." He said, floating down to the ground with the least amount of creepy-crawlies. In the times he'd come back, he started the beginnings of a camp. Stole away supplies from Gray's material cache to make your own cots. Picked a spot a few feet up from the bug rivers where you could watch but be in no danger if you decided to hop down and explore.

He clacked two rocks together. Sparks rained as the fire pit he'd built lit. He blew, added more kindling from the pile he'd prepared, nurtured the fire in a matter of milliseconds. The light illuminated the cavern around you, but your eyes could barely process what you were seeing.

You were beside her, yards away. Sat in a high chair at her bug court. The massive white thing that was some mutated sand-mite-termite-whatever-the-fuck queen. She did not notice or care about the fire. Did not mind your sudden presence. Her mandibles twitched as her children flitted in and out of her mouth.

"What the fuck?"

Your brain doesn't even think of food. Water. Too stuck on the giant bug. But you know what it means, these are the first living creatures you'd seen since arriving over three weeks ago.

"We can stay here." He says soft behind you, sure to give plenty of space for you to process. "We have everything we need." You don't reply, jaw dropped open, taking in the sight. The bugs skittering in and out of their dens set into the walls. "You don't have to go back and deal with them ever again."

It's like a dream come true. Too good to be true.

You don't feel yourself speak. "They'll come looking."

"They haven't found this place yet and if we stay quiet, they won't. But I'll be honest, I didn't find this place myself. Someone else did."

You turn, eyes wide, "Who?" God, don't say Scars. Don't say Lensless.

"He wants to tell you himself." He knew it'd matter to you who it was, but Phantom asked him not to tell. He was cagey about why. "But he's helping us. I think tomorrow he'll stage your disappearance and join us. It's nobody bad, I promise."

"I-" You look back to the bugs, undulating below. None of them cared you existed. Minding their own buggy business, not begging you for sex or love or attention. If Baldie brought you here they were likely not venomous. They didn't attack or swarm or even run away. "We'll really be safe here?"

"I'll make sure of it." He said.

Something in you breaks. Resolve or dignity.

Because you lunge at Baldie, tears returning. Stuff your face to his chest, arms going tight around his forearms and middle. The hopelessness that'd become a part of your everyday slowing leaching out in his hold.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," it's muffled against his chest. His arms wriggle easily out of your hold and drape over your back. He pulls you closer, inhaling your scent, feeling your skin, and is at peace.

"It's alright, I've got you."

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