#i had to scribble something silly or i would lose my mind

[cozylittleartblog]

cringe is dead because rouxls is carrying the weight of it all madoka style

[theother-victoria]

been thinking of street racing with aventurine bc I imagine he’d like the thrill of it too…

tags: not proofread, I typed this out in tumblr drafts, some suggestive comments, flirting, gn reader, I don't know anything about street racing so pls forgive any inaccuracies, banter (they're so silly)

Aventurine, who pulls up to the race in an edgy and sleek sports car, drawing the attention of everyone else there- yours included.

You lean against the side of your car, watching him as he leaves opponent after opponent in the dust. He's skilled, you'll give him that. From the aggressive driving style and the make and model of the car, you're betting it's just some bored teenage boy with daddy's money to burn, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't at least a little bit curious about the person behind the wheel.

A few easy wins later that night and you're slated to race against him. He takes his sweet time pulling up to the finish line, but to your surprise, he rolls his window down for the first time that night and you're able to get a good look at him. He's no teenage boy but he has the same mischievous look that implies he's up to no good.

"Checking me out already?" he remarks, his (captivating) eyes twinkling in delight, although they're hidden behind his sunglasses. "And I thought I'd for sure be the one to make the first move."

Oh, so he's a flirt too. You can barely hear him over the loud purring of his expensive and modded car's engine and you know tonight's race will be a tight one.

"I see you've got money. What's a rich boy like you doing all the way out here?"

His grin widens.

"Ooh, you’re sharp. I like that and the way you talk.”

"Why don't you tell me who you are first?"

He laughs and shakes his head. He rolls up the window, much to your irritation, but not before saying one last thing and sending a wink your way.

"If you win, I'll tell you who I am. How does that sound?"

Damn. No other choice but to accept since the race is about to start.

You end up losing, but just barely. You had to push your car to its limits and he wasn't above playing dirty too, giving you a couple of close calls throughout. Although, he at least didn't endanger your life like some others have in the past, so you'll give him that.

After the race ends, you pull into a brightly-lit gas station with some people there. Shortly after, another car pulls up next to you and he steps out.

"Not bad, not bad," he says, clapping lightly. "It's not often that I find someone that can at least keep up with me, much less overtake me a couple times."

"So you were following me."

He raises his hands as a mock display of innocence.

"Hey, relax! Don't be so hostile! I just wanted to get to know you a bit better, that's all. Besides, you wanted to know who I am, right?"

You watch as he scribbles something onto a business card.

"Wasn't that only applicable if I won?"

"Eh, I've changed my mind now," he says, handing the card to you. "I don't make deals that don’t pay off and I'd consider it a loss if I didn't get at least your number tonight."

"You still didn't answer my original question. What's someone like you doing all the way out here? Surely you have more important matters to attend to, right?"

He laughs.

"Wow, you really don't know who I am, huh?"

"... What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ah, nothing. Just talking to myself. But to answer your question... I suppose it's because I enjoy the thrill of it. It's like gambling. Not knowing whether you'll win or lose, or even live or die. After all, the higher the stakes, the higher the excitement- why're you looking at me like that?"

"… You're insane."

"Sure, sure, sweetheart. I'll pretend that your reasons aren't the same as mine and that the adrenaline rush doesn't excite you every time. Why else would you willingly race, night after night?"

With one last wink, he gets into his car and drives away. You finally glance at the business card, only to do a double take and gape at it in shock when you realize its contents.

Aventurine, one of the IPC's Ten Stonehearts? No way... this guy's an IPC exec?

You don't know whether to feel proud about the fact that you got an IPC executive's number without trying or humiliated about the whole exchange...

There's a winking smiley face and an "call me xoxo" written next to the phone number.

And against your better judgement, you do just that.

He turns out to be an interesting companion. You'd think that with his demanding position, he'd be traveling all over the galaxy every day- which is true, to an extent, but he's always there for your weekly races and frequently drags you out shopping with him. He teaches you how to play poker and how to count your cards, if you didn't know how to already. He then tries to get you to play a round or two against him, which you promptly refuse each time.

("I spent all that time teaching you how to play and this is what I get in return? Boo, you're no fun. But a round or two never hurt anyone, right?"

"Aventurine, even a round or two is a surefire way to go into debt to you. Absolutely not."

He pouts and grumbles like a little kid every time.)

He also pays for additional mods to your car. When you try to refuse him, he merely brushes off your concerns.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you understand," he said back then. "I make more in a day than what it costs to mod your car. To me, this is nothing. Besides, I want an opponent who can keep up with me. If you start falling behind, well, then that's no fun for both of us, right?"

One night, there’s a particularly high-stakes race that you’re slated to compete in. The cash prize is one that’s too big for anyone to pass up.

Well, except for Aventurine. That amount of money is probably nothing by his standards.

For once, he’s not racing. When it’s your turn, he waves you over with a teasing smile as you’re getting ready.

“Say, how about raising the stakes for tonight?”

“What now?”

“Let’s make a bet.”

“… Fine.”

“If you win, we go on a date together. My treat, of course. If you lose, then you’ll have to play a round of poker with me.”

There isn’t an ounce of shame in his words. You openly gape at him as he beams at you proudly.

“… What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why though?”

He shrugs.

“Simple. I know this is a bet that will pay off. And I’ve been wanting this to happen for a long time now. So…”

He leans in close, lips teasingly brushing over your ear for a moment.

“Don’t disappoint me. I want to see you try and turn the tides in your favor for this race.”

You pull away from him.

“I accept, but only because I am not going into debt because of poker.”

He laughs.

“Go on then, sweetheart. I want to see you leave everyone behind in the dust. Oh, and don’t forget your good luck kiss!”

Aventurine blows a kiss to you. You roll your eyes as you climb into your car. Insufferable, that’s what he is. But if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s reading people. Meaning he must’ve noticed that you wanted this too.

You roll your neck and focus on the road ahead. The race is about to begin.

That cash prize and date with Aventurine is yours.

[shadowbriar]

Five Hargreeves — Daddy Issues

Pairing : Five Hargreeves x (she/her) CIA!Reader Word Count : 3.3k Warning : Angst. Character death. Snogging but nothing too graphic. Season 4 references. Synopsis : He promised himself that he would not let her come near his family madness, but the marigold was melting his blood vessels and none of his siblings look like they’re ready for a real fight. Notes : Inspired by The Neighborhood - Daddy Issues. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

The lack of presence on the other side of the bed made him pull himself entirely out off of drowsiness. Five’s frown was deep when he pulled the blanket up to cover his body, half sitting up with his elbows as support as he scans the room. It was far too early for his liking.

He caught her standing by the bookshelf, his white shirt hanging loose on her shoulders. A small satisfied smile tugs in the corner of his lips. The sight was too pretty for him to not appreciate. She was lost in her own world, caught in her own thoughts. Too busy reading the scribbles of some crumpled paper to realise that the other person in the room has awakened.

“Found something you’re looking for?”

She looks up to see him with a wide smile, looking slightly sheepish of being caught red handed, “No, but I found this,” She took out the fake moustache she found, placing it on her face “How do I look?”

“Ridiculous,” Five says, rolling his eyes “Come here so I can rip it off of you.”

Her grin only becomes wider as she comes closer to the man. She sits on the edge of the bed, leaning so that he could take the silly moustache off of her.

“What’s the story?” She asks, still curious about the peculiar item “Any exciting undercover stories you want to share?”

“You know I can’t even if I wanted to. And I don’t,” He remarks, giving her a playful disapproving look “What were you doing rummaging my stash?”

She shrugs, “I was just bored. You always wake up much later than I do.”

“It’s only what— 6 am? It's not my fault you have sleeping problems.”

She rolls her eyes in response.

Five bite down his smile as he leans in, kissing her softly.

This wasn’t what Five had in mind when he ran through the portal six years ago. Losing his powers and having to build a new life in a strange timeline was certainly not in his to-do list, but developing some clandestine affair with a girl from work was a bigger mindblown for the mentally sixty three years old man. Romance and any other personal relationship were practically out the window the moment he understood about the Apocalypse. Yet now, after one too many timelines, Five has found himself entangled with the knots of love.

He would never admit it out loud. Afraid that a confession would only spoil the fragile bond they’ve created. Hell, this was never even a proper relationship. It was just a simple deal made by two adults. A little roleplay they do whenever they’re alone. Nothing too serious, nothing too monogamous. Strictly business.

But he knew he was doomed the moment he tasted her. There was no other drug that could be as intoxicating, no other substance as addicting. The way that she knew just how much of a dose to give to get him crawling back for more. How she would push further than she pulled him. A little game she does that he’d never grow tired of.

There was only one rule— no rules within these four walls. He could show her how much he cares, how much he worships her, whenever she comes over. Not an inch of her skin left without his kiss. Five was whipped beyond saving whenever the door closes, but even with such intense affection, neither of them dared to pop the question.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks, staring deep into his eyes.

“I’m thinking whatever you’re thinking about.”

She bites her lower lip, climbing on top of him. She pulls him for a proper kiss, clinging her arms around his neck as he rests his hands on her hips.

“Tell me something I’ll forget,” She whispers, kissing the corner of his lips “Something you might have to tell me again.”

Five hesitated. The words were hanging by the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill in any second. Her gentle touch was melting his walls, breaking each and every fortress he’s built over the years. For someone who thought that he’s seen all the things in life, Five was once again caught by surprise.

“How bout I show you instead?” He offers, swapping their positions that she’s now laying on her back with him on top of her.

One of his hands travels to cup her cheek, deepening their kiss as he changes their course of action. Five could feel her smiling through the kiss, giving him the courage to continue his venture. His thumb brushes the skin of her cheek gently. Years of being a cold blooded spy had made him think that there’s no tenderness left in his soul. A broken shell of a man is all he is. Yet, he was once again proven wrong by her. Always her, only her.

It’s crazy what you’ll do for a friend.

—-

“Tell me about your past lovers.”

His grip on her hand loosen a little, brows rising from the unexpected request. It was fortunate of him to have her back leaning on his chest. This way she wouldn’t have heard the slight spike of his heart nor seen the surprise he had in his face. How he blinked and furrowed his brows as his brain tried to digest her words.

He lets go of her hand and rests his arm around her shoulder, silently caging her in an embrace in case the words he utters would make her flee, “Lover. There was only one woman.”

“What’s her name?”

“Dolores,” He sighs, the rare forlorn look in his eyes were potent “Her name was Dolores.”

“What happened between you and Dolores?”

There was a brief pause. His chest hitches as he struggles to find the words, “I.. Left her.”

“Why?”

“I had to.”

“Is that what you’re going to do to me too?” She questions. The fragility of her voice made him wince. Voicing her words barely above a whisper.

“I might,” He confesses with a heavy heart, swallowing a lump in his throat “Will you hate me then?”

She turns her head to face him, nodding like it was a promise, “I will.”

She wanted to ask more. To know deeper about what happened between him and Dolores. If their separation was recent or if he ever tried to come back to her. She wanted to know what made him leave. If there was a bigger story to tell, a bigger secret to share. She wanted to know if he loved her, if he would use his hands to trace the invisible stars on her skin and mark it with his kisses, if he would tell her the word she’s been dying to hear from him. She wanted to know it all.

And Five wanted to tell. He wanted to tell her about the fights and all the running he’s done for the past years. He wanted to tell her how Dolores was the only thing keeping him sane after being trapped in the post-apocalyptic wasteland for forty-five years. He wanted to tell her how tired he is, how he misses his powers and secretly hoped that he never got out of that hotel alive. He wanted to tell it all.

But both of their words die in their tongues. Crestfallen from all the silence that they’re bound to be stuck in. Their eyes tried their best to convey the message their lips couldn’t utter, hoping that the invisible string between them was strong enough to connect their hearts better than words ever could.

Her fingers gently tucked the stubborn strand of hair off of his face. She studies him, trying to see any trace of deceit or vice, but all she could see was the love bleeding out of him like a muck. His eyes were warm, radiating with that one sentiment she’s never seen on anyone else.

She cups both of his cheeks, softly kissing his lips, “I wish you’d let me in.”

Five shakes his head, “I’d never put you in such danger.”

“I can take care of myself,” She argues, an impressed smile decorating her face “Have you forgotten? We’re literally CIA agents.”

He smiles, pulling her head to his chest.

They would never admit it but tender moments like this scares the living out of the both of them. It felt too real, too personal to what they signed up for, but they would rather lose a limb than to miss it. For some reason such delicateness felt like it would dissipate in a moment. Like a bitter farewell was looming behind, ready to catch them off guard and without a fight.

And so they keep quiet. Letting the frail second to fall gracefully like the first drop of snow. His fingers entangle themselves with her hair while she listens carefully to the steady rise and fall of his chest. They make notes of one another, recording each and every little thing the other does before their time turns into bittersweet memory.

—-

Five hesitated. He taps on the payphone with uncertainty, doubting if he should dial her number and ask for the favour. He promised himself that he would not let her come near his family madness, but the marigold was melting his blood vessels and none of his siblings look like they’re ready for a real fight. Whatever this dry cleaner’s daughter kidnapping was about has certainly gone a notch more serious than it ever was.

He weighs his options. The only thing he could make out of her were the pleasant times they’ve spent. The laughter and the stolen glances they would exchange when nobody was around. The sun has always shone on top of them, no rain nor shade to ever taint their story. It feels as if they’ve been living in a fairytale despite all the secrecy he hides from her.

But Ben’s tails were stubborn and Lila’s laser eyesight was not boosting his confidence enough to follow through with this rescue mission. His family might have gotten their powers back, but it was an overstatement to say that the team was officially back on. Their bodies were still trying to readjust themselves with the liquid gold, whatever it might mean now.

The bitterness in his tongue sets thicker as his decision comes to a final. For some reason believing that calling her would compromise the charming affair they have. Not from the squabbles his family might show, but from other perils he couldn’t foresee.

“Hello?” She answers right on the second ring “Who is this?”

Five’s words were caught in his throat, unable to continue his action.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” He finally says. 

“Five? Is everything okay?” She questions, worry evident in her tone as she proceeds to speak in whisper “I know we promised not to talk during work hours, but I heard that you’re taking a sick leave and now you’re calling and I just— I’m worried.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” He answers, his tone heavy with regret “I’m fine. I’m just— Look, there’s something I need to tell you,” There was a pause, clearly still debating if he should end the call and just face whatever’s to come alone with his family.

“Five? Are you there?”

He nods, his voice strained with anxiety, “Yeah, I just— I’m going to Maine. There’s something I need to do there with my family.”

“Oh, okay. Will you be back soon?”

“No, I.. I don’t know,” He answers in surrender “Listen, I know I’m asking too much of you but.. Could you meet me there? In New Grumpson?”

A few seconds of silence, her confusion thick in her voice, “You.. Want me to come to your family gathering?”

“Well, it’s not really a gathering,” Five struggles to explain, running a hand through his hair “It’s more of a.. Rescue mission? I can’t explain the details through the phone, there isn’t enough time.”

“I can’t just drop things off and drive to Maine, Five. I’m in the middle of a case,” She reasoned.

“I know, but I need you to come. I need you to help me,” He begs, his heart beating fast inside of his chest as if it could already see the disaster this phone call would bring “I promise to tell you everything. I’ll explain everything—about my family, about myself, about Dolores, about us. I’ll tell you everything. I just— I need to do it in person. Please.. Please come and meet me there.”

There was still silence from the other side of the phone.

“I promise to let you in,” He continues, his voice faltering in despair “I’ll tell you what you want to hear. What I needed to tell you a long time ago.”

Silence hung heavy in the air. Beads of sweat were breaking in the back of his neck, afraid that he’s just lost everything before it even started. There was no going back now. Not even with the power that he’s just gotten back.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, fuck it,” She answers, having zero sense of hesitation left in her voice “But you better tell me right after I get there.”

“I will, I promise.” Five bites his grin, taking a deep breath of relief before he finally says the magic words “I love you. And I promise to say it again when we meet.”

—-

She has to admit, driving countless hours down to New Grumpson with little to no context, might not have been one of her brightest moments. She should’ve asked more about the plan, where to meet and what time, before hanging up and picking her car keys. God knows how she would meet Five now. Who’s to tell just how big this town is or if he’s even in the city yet. She was blind. Completely lost in a random town thousands of miles from home.

Between finding some covers for the windows that Victor broke and frequent bathroom breaks, the Hargreeves siblings could only reach their destination when the sun was already at its peak. Not to mention the bickering that they have to resolve every other ten minutes. The eight of them are certainly behind schedule but without any means of communication, there was no way for her to know his whereabouts.

Now sitting in a diner, she wonders just how long she should wait before leaving this town. There’s something eerie about this place. The people were kind, sure, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched. Like these people were not just civilians but someone placed to fill certain roles to make up the city folks.

She watches as a man enters the diner. He was kicked out the first time by the diner’s owner, but supposed the kind lady could see that this stranger was in need of a shelter. He looks like a tourist, too. A little lost and too peaky to be a local.

And that’s when she heard it, the first gunshot outside. She reaches for her own gun, hiding it under the table as she tries to assess her surroundings. The people in the diner now corner the strange man and the diner lady, commanding the woman to come with them with their guns pointed out.

Good God, what is this place? She thought as she cocks her gun.

Just as the two people ran out through the back door, another shot was fired and it was enough reason for her to take the small mob down from behind. Whatever their reasoning is, the people of this town are certainly not the friendliest to tourists.

She runs outside, trying to help the other three people that were being gunned down by a bunch of the town folks. She watches as the biggest man shields the other two. An act that shouldn’t be logically possible.

She tries to help out, shooting the crazy goon with her own gun. It was a no match with the numbers of these lunatics and their AKs compared to her handgun, but it was enough to give a window for the three people to run further away.

One down, another ten appears. The people in this town just so happen to be complete terrorists who shoot on weaponless people, she reckons.

Out of the blue, Five blinks to the road and joins in the shield of the big man. It took her a couple of seconds to believe the sight she just saw— Five appearing out of thin air and hiding under the protection of the big guy who’s bearing all the gunshots fired at them. None of this was making any sense. Not the city, not the people, not the events she’s witnessing. But she didn’t have time for questions, not yet. Her finger pulls on the trigger nonstop, refilling her magazine as soon as she can before more madmen come.

But her hands weren’t fast enough. There was not enough time for her to raise her gun. To point and pull another shot before a couple bullets were aimed at her chest. She was hit. Too many times for her to count as she fell limp to the cold concrete, gasping for air.

“No!” She could hear Five’s echoing scream. In a blink of an eye, he was kneeling by her, lifting her body to be in his embrace. His hand was shaky, trying his best to give some pressure to the holes in her chest as his other arm pulled her close, “I’m here, I’m here.”

No words came out of her lips. Breathing hurts as blood starts to come out of her mouth. Colour was draining from her face, skin turning cold as her ear rings.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Five apologises, his tears flowing down to her face “This wasn’t supposed to happen, I’m sorry.”

“S-Say it,” She whispers, gasping “You promised.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” He confesses, cupping her cheek with his bloodied hand “I’m sorry. I love you. I love you so much, I’m so sorry.”

The light in her eyes slowly dims out. Her laboured breathing quiets down as the interval widens before it eventually stops. Her hand that was holding his wrist fell gently, no longer having any care that the shreds of mirror were creating new cuts to it.

“I’m sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.”

Those three sentences were flowing out of him like a broken record. Five holds her close, planting tear stained kisses to her cheeks as if it would give her another breath of life. He calls for her name like a prayer, begging for her to look at him just once more, but the magnetism that would always fill those orbs were gone. They were staring into the empty space without a blink. Gone were the eyes that would stare into him with so much love and tenderness.

Five looks up to see his siblings. They were looking down with pitiful, sorry eyes. Never had they ever seen the collected brother be this broken, drowning in the anguish of a lost lover.

“It was Dad,” Luther says bearing the bad news “They were all Hargreeves goons.”

Another tear escaped his eyes. Five’s sobs were getting louder, whispering his apologies to her now deaf ears. He was sorry about everything. About asking her to come, about promising to tell her some complete nonsense, about falling in love with her. Even with his powers, Five was utterly helpless. He couldn’t undo what was done— save the life that he’s lost and keep her away from harm. The one thing that matters most to him has finally been ripped off of his hands.

There was a sense of resentment brewing in his heart. He thought that he could not be any more hollow than he already is, but now that she’s dead in his arms, now that the better half of him has disappeared, Five has ultimately become that one broken shell of a man he once thought he was.

If only she was his little girl, he would’ve run away and hide with her.

[otomiyaa]

Ticklish Caelus x Reader

Romantic + 44. “I can’t let you go unpunished.” Requested by anon for my 1K Followers Event🌻

Mischievous, sassy, sometimes a little evil. These were traits of your boyfriend that weren't new to you. But that didn't mean you would let him get away with it!

"You look like you want to chase me for this, but good news, I'm not going to run. So we can spare your breath."

Oh Caelus, Caelus, Caelus. You shook your head at him in disapproval. On his lips were the remains of the last bit of chocolate cake; yes, the special one from Belobog! The expensive one! The plate, empty! His expression, smug!

Naughty Caelus literally ate all of the cake while you only had 2 pieces. And he knew it was your favorite. It wasn't as if Belobog was around the corner either - it was on a different planet.

You sighed. "Seriously? Well, if you're not going to run, fine with me. Makes this much easier."

You stepped towards him, and for a moment it seemed as if Caelus expected something like, yeah.. something like what? What did he expect? Aggressive kissing? A slap in his face? He closed his eyes and leaned forward a little, looking eager to accept his punishment.

Judging from his behavior, he didn't seem to think you'd do this.

"HUH? Nohoho waahah-whahahait!" His sudden laughter and confused noises proved to you that he really didn't expect you to tickle him. How odd.

"You could've seen this coming, Caelus. I can’t let you go unpunished. Mean boyfriends get the tickle punishment, it's an unwritten rule."

"I wahahasn't mean- no hahaha dohohon't!" He reached for your hands but failed to stop them from traveling under his shirt. You enjoyed the feeling of his abs under your hands as you tickled him vengefully. To think all that delicious cake was stored in there now!

"You ate my cake and were smug about it. So yes, you were mean, Caelus," you lectured him while giving his stomach a very well-deserved ticklish treatment. Caelus squirmed like a funny worm and laughed hysterically.

"It wahahas ours-ahahaha!"

"I bought it, and even if I bought it for you too, you could've at least shared a bit more."

"Buhuhut- eeeheehehe!" Seeing his huge smile and the crumbs near his lips, you then wondered if he dirtied his mouth on purpose. He normally wasn't that messy with eating.

You now realized why this silly guy was probably expecting something else than tickling. Well, now that the same thought made its way into your mind too, it was hard to not give in. Even though it would be exactly what he wanted.

"I cahahan explahaha-heheheh hmph!" Caelus squeaked when you kissed him. You pinned him against the wall and tasted the delicious cake on his lips. Caelus relaxed against you and immediately kissed you back.

Naughty naughty. "HMPH!" You grinned mid-kiss when you felt him twitch and jump; your fingers were still under his shirt and now tickled his bare sides and tummy with rapid scratches and scribbles.

Caelus danced between you and the wall, letting out muffled giggles as he tried to continue kissing you. To take a deep breath yourself you moved back for a moment and smirked.

"What, didn't think I would just give you what you wanted hm?"

Caelus stared at you with a blush. "Yeah - I have a confession to make," he said breathlessly. You rolled your eyes fondly.

"Yes yes, you wanted to piss me off deliberately and score some angry kisses. I get it now," you said, and you immediately resumed the tickle punishment without mercy. Caelus shook with hysterical laughter and shook his head.

"Nohoho I d-didn't I- ahaahah! Wahahait- lehehet me, aahhahaa!"

The more you tickled Caelus, the happier you felt. Maybe you were glad he was provoking you. This way you didn't need to feel sorry for taking advantage of this ticklish cutie.

"Lehehet me speheheak ehehee!" Caelus whined.

"Speak? You prefer kisses, don't you?" And your lips were on his again, muffling his laughter and definitely not making this easier on him. You felt him lose the strength in his legs, and he slid down to the floor.

Your lips remained together as you followed him down. Then the moment he lay sprawled on the floor, you continued the merciless tickle attack.

"Plehehease! Nonono ahahaha!" Caelus squealed. He was the cutest. There were no more crumbs left on his face, but he looked adorable with that pretty blush on his cheeks and the tears in his eyes. Yes, you were lucky to have such a mischievous, sassy and evil boyfriend who would deserve a tickle punishment like this from time to time.

When you finally stopped and let him catch his breath, Caelus said again: "I c-can explain hehe."

"What else is there to explain?" you asked. He then weakly lifted his hand and pointed at the cupboard behind you.

"C-check there, p-please hehe," he giggled tiredly. Enjoying his cute sounds even after you had stopped tickling him, you got up and to your surprise, found more cake hidden.

"I didn't eat everything, I wanted you to think so."

When you looked at him again, you noticed the cutest pout on his lips. "The reason, well... y-you were right."

PFFT. He really thought he could score some angry kisses for free and got himself a tickle punishment instead. Caelus and his silly way of thinking, you couldn't help but love him for it.

"You're crazy, and that's why I love you," you said, and before he could get up from the floor, you were on top of him again, this time giving him the passionate kisses he may have longed for!

[scara-hater]

Hi this is my first time requesting. Can I request cyno,Thoma,Tighnari, and Itto reacting to finding out you have not been sleeping properly and eating at all only every tiny portions. And the reader didn’t want them to find out.

Sorry if it’s a little complicated I’ve just been having this problem lately and don’t know what to do about it. And none of my family have found out about it.

Thank you so much for your content I love it and will always read it when I’m feeling down

I hope you are doing okay! If there is anything else you’d like to request let me know! Sending my aggressive care!

Not proofread!

Warnings: minimal eating on reader’s end, you literally don’t sleep, my writing.

—

Secrets never stay hidden.

Cyno

You aren’t sure what provoked this change in mentality, but you can feel that it’s slowly affecting you.

Like a poison, it seems to take over your body more each day. Your portions in eating have plummeted immensely, barely able to eat so much as a bite.

And It’s been weeks. You don’t want to burden others with an issue that is clearly your own, So deciding this was the best option, you act as if nothing is different.

“Y/n”

Startled, your paperwork is now ruined, “Oh! Haha, you scared me.” Putting the pen down, you raise your head to look at Cyno, “why are you awake.”

Looking at him confused, you point to the writing beneath you with your eyes. “I have a few things I need to do before I sleep, honey.” Leaning into your seat, you let out a deep exhale.

“Simple work can wait for sunrise, and stop calling me that.” “Not a chance.”

“Fine, then allow me to make you something at least. I can’t promise it’ll be any good, but it’s better than overexerting yourself with nothing to replenish that energy.”

Closing your eyes, you call out as he walks further form your position, “Not necessary, I’m not hungry.” Continue it your previous task at hand, you assume he’s out of earshot.

But he’s just glaring at you scribbling mindlessly and begins to argue, “you haven’t eaten.”

“Cyno, please.” Placing your hand on the bridge of your nose.

“Y/n, you have been deceiving me for quite some time, do not act as if you are well enough to take care of yourself.” You pause, eyes widen for a moment then silence blankets the room.

Inhaling through his teeth, his demeanour relaxes, “I apologize I didn’t see it sooner, but please don’t feel the need to take it all on.” Taking the stacks of documentation and putting it aside, he takes your hand.

“I will not allow your health to be neglected further, lets eat even if it’s small. And by chance you cannot sleep, lay with me at the least.”

He stalks you now to ensure you are taking care of yourself.

Tighnari

You spent countless nights awake, the stress of life has kept your stress running. This throbbing feeling in your eyes is less than pleasant, and it feels like everything is a a hassle to accomplish. The thought of a full meal leaves you uneasy as you are too preoccupied indulging in your mind.

You didn’t know it would be this bad.

Had you known, you would not have mentions to your dear Tighnari that your sleep was off. It was said in passing, but you promised it would get better soon. Telling him to not worry about something so silly and to relax.

But how could he?

He watched your state worsen, you grew weaker and your body is losing it’s physical ability to function. Especially the last couple of days. Your head will nod off as you try to keep it in place, and you seem to be in a state of delusion. You forget to eat, or tell him you can’t because it makes you nauseous.

He’s worried.

“.. Y.. Y/n.. Y/N!” Fingers snap in your face as your vision snapped open. “Ah! I’m awake.” Gaining sometime of consciousness you see your fennec friend knelt to your level, “You said you’ve been sleeping better, are you lying?” “Of course not” leaning back and crossing your arms, you look up as if to prove something. “I’m fine.. and you should mind your own business!.”

How stubborn you are, he thought.

Sighing, he stands up and extends his arm out infront of you. “Well? come on. You and I both know this will end with me dragging you bed if you don’t listen.” Shaking his wrist for you to grab him.

“Fine.”

he quickly snatches your hand and pulls to you the bedroom. Face determined, he messes up the blankets and pillows into a nest-like appearance before he proudly smiles and pats the spot next to him. He totally is like a little fox.

As you lay down, you see he’s on side staring at you, “what?” Your soft voice makes his tail wag and his face graces a smile, “I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself, even if it’s just this one time.”

Scooting closer to your body, he cradles your figure in hopes to promote your tired state. “I’ll be here when you wake up, and make you something to eat, okay?”

“If you so much as close your mouth one millimetre again, will find another way to feed you, even if it’s painful.”

Itto

He’s so stupid I’m sorry. He forgets you’re just a tiny human, and you don’t have extended limitations.

You’re tired and you don’t have the energy. Work has kept you hostage for hours, and seems to give no mercy when it came to giving you a break.

So when you finally get a day off, you planned on sleeping it away.

But looks like the Arataki idiot Oni Itto wanted to see you.

“YY/NNNNN! My baby, my angel, my-“ bursting though the door of your house, he yells seemingly as loud as he can on. Is he doing this on purpose?

With a groan you sit up to see the giant of a man smiling wide at you. “What is it?” Your hair’s a mess, and your house clothes wrinkled, you glare at Itto for disturbing your one day of peace. “Woah woah woah, you look horrible! What got my cutie all messed up?” Leaning down to in September your state further. Oh he really wants to get hit, you thought. Taking a deep breath, you let it out in hopes to ease your growing irritation,

“Please Itto, another day. I haven’t-“ “ y/nnnn Pweaase can we go out today, pretty pretty pleeaaase?”

He’s not even listening.

Flopping back down, you cover your body in sign to ignore the Oni.

“Hey! I’m talkin’ ! If you ignore me I’ll pretend I don’t know you anymore!” “Please leave my house stranger.” You indulge in his immaturity.

“No way, I haven’t seen you in like, uhhh I don’t know how long - but the point is, it’s been a while! And you don’t look good, gross even!.” “So let’s go eat something, I can bet with how much you work you forgot to.” Oh yeah. You don’t recall eating much in the last week, you should quit that job.

Picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, he walks to the door.

“You can can do whatever you want after, I’m starving so let’s go out! And when we get back, I can hold you and lay with you, maybe even-“

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

“And we’re off!”

He doesn’t even know what’s going on.

I’m so sorry this doesn’t even feel like it’s good, I actually feel guilty.

[oliversrarebooks]

Can you tell Emily in particular I wish her a happy Thanksgiving and I hope she’s eating a very good meal because she deserves it (if this is something she even celebrates)

Happy thanksgiving to everyone else of course but I particularly hope she’s well-fed.

Well, this isn't really a happy story for the holidays...

Masterlist

December 1925

TW: mind control, conditioning, intelligence loss, memory loss, dehumanization, pet whump, captivity (darker than usual, but not necessary to the overall story)

Emily dreamed of abstract colors, deep blues and vivid greens, vivid orange and dusty brown. They swirled and mixed in her mind. It smelled like paint. Her hands were covered in paint, too.

Why were her hands covered in paint?

She startled herself out of the dream. There was no paint. She was warm and snug in her nightgown and collar, laying in her soft pet bed, her leash wound loosely around the post of her lady's bed. Exactly where she was supposed to be. Through her half-asleep haze she could hear the familiar sounds of her lady at the vanity playing with her makeup, cosmetics clicking against the wood as she picked them up and set them down.

Her mind was trying to grasp onto the dream. The paint. For some reason, she didn't want to lose it. She wanted to think about it, even though it was hard and made her sleepy. It made her sad, too. Lady Jessica didn't like it when she was sad.

Maybe she had better leave it alone.

"Oh, dear, what's wrong, my pet?" Fluffy pink slippers came into her line of sight, and Emily knelt before her lady, just like she'd been taught. "You look as though something's troubling you. Are you ill?"

"No, my lady," she said. "It was only a bad dream. This one is sorry if she made too much noise."

To her relief, her lady didn't seem displeased, instead offering a hand to pet Emily's hair. She leaned into the kind touch, rubbing her head against her lady's hand. "What sort of bad dream was it, dear?"

"This one isn't sure," Emily said. It was so much harder to think when her lady was near. "There was... paint."

"Paint." The tone of her voice darkened, and Emily instinctively flinched away. "No, no, no, pet, it's okay. You haven't done a thing wrong, poor dear, I know you're trying hard to be a good pet. It's not your fault if you sometimes dream of silly things that don't belong to pets."

Emily was glad that she wasn't going to be punished, but still felt very uneasy. The paint was important, she just couldn't remember why. And her lady's insistence that it didn't belong to her... something about that didn't sit right in her chest. "Yes, my lady." She nuzzled into her lady's hand, hoping to quell the bad thoughts.

"Paint isn't appropriate for pets. Pets are far too silly and clumsy. You'd make a mess everywhere."

"You're right, my lady." Of course she was right. She always was.

"Why don't I get you some crayons? A nice big set of crayons and a thick pad of paper. You can scribble to your heart's content. How does that sound?"

Emily's breath caught. She didn't have any toys like that. That seemed like so much fun. Such a generous offer from her lady. "Yes, please, my lady, this one would love that so much."

"Then it shall be yours." Lady Jessica cupped her face in her hands. "Anything for my darling, weak, useless little pet."

That made Emily sad, too, although she didn't understand why. "Thank you, my lady."

"Now then, is my precious pet hungry?"

Now that she mentioned it. "Yes, my lady!" Meals were the highlight of her day. It took her a long time to eat since her clumsy pet fingers couldn't use forks very well, but that was fine -- she didn't have much else to do with her time. That might start changing, though, if her lady really did get her crayons and paper. Her lady often forgot the things she had promised, as was her right.

"I'll have Betty send your food up, then," said Lady Jessica, leaving the room.

Emily settled back down into her bed. She hoped that the fact that her lady was doing her makeup meant that they were going out, that she would get to go for a walk. She liked it when her lady dressed her up in a pretty coat and scarf. She liked to see the moon and the stars. Maybe she could draw the moon with her new crayons so that she could look at it all the time. 

She was good at drawing. She wasn't sure how she knew that, since her lady had never given her anything to draw with, but it seemed right. And maybe if she got to draw, she'd stop feeling so sad.

Masterlist

Now I feel like I want to write something comforting to make up for this...

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

Danger Force Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 1

Episode 10: The Thousand Prank War Part 1 (SMUT)

Season 1 Masterlist

Click for vibes

Word count : 20k (oml)

~Swellview Academy for the Gifted~

Down in SWAG, Miles and (y/n) sat side by side, talking quietly in the strangely silent classroom. 

The woman listened to the boy as he ranted about what was on his mind, legs swinging over the armrest of Chapa's scarlet desk. She only hoped the girl would not mind how she took her seat, but she wasn't around. And besides, it was usually Ray who took the brunt of the feisty brunette's temper. 

They didn't know where the other kids were, having slipped into the empty classroom during recess to have their little chat. It was another rarity since Captain Doofus wasn't hanging off her arm, nor did Schwoz need her assistance, nor did one of his friends need the kind woman. 

Honestly, Miles didn't know (y/n/n) was so popular until he sought her advice. 

"So, what you're saying is I shouldn't be bothered by it?" Asked the boy as he thoughtfully stroked his chin, eyes cast upwards toward the ceiling. 

"No..." answered (y/n), shaking her head and smiling at him kindly. "Everyone likes different things, Miles. Can you imagine how boring life would be if we didn't?"

"I guess so..." He shrugged, glancing at the notepad in his lap with pages of little scribbles - notes from his friend's wisdom. 

Anyone else would have laughed at or passed him a book when he went to her for advice and guidance, but not (y/n). She sat him down and explained every detail so he didn't feel ashamed, silly, or stupid - just enlightened. 

"But are you sure changing your recipe is okay? I mean, your oatmeal raisin cookies are legendary..."

The heroine gave him a bemused look, flattered by the compliment, but the look on his face was hilarious. Miles came to her for baking tips, hoping to perfect his signature dish as she had done with the cookies, yet when she suggested updating them with walnuts, peanuts, maybe chocolate chips... He genuinely looked like she'd asked him to rob the Swellview Bank. 

"Doesn't mean they can't be improved," said (y/n), giggling as she sat upright in the chair and looked at him properly. "My only condition is that you let me be your taste-tester-in-chief. First dibs and all that."

"Deal." They shook on it, smiling brightly at each other before leaning back, knowing they couldn't hide in SWAG forever. Inevitably, some crime would happen, or, more likely, Miles would lose his culinary mentor to the man-child she called her husband.

"You wanna go find the others?" Asked (y/n), and her fingers neared the button on her armrest that would send the chair flying into the Man's Nest above. "I'm pretty certain there's some homemade brownies left in a box upstairs if Schwoz didn't get to them."

"Say no more..." said the kid, his face deadly serious as their eyes met, and for a minute, the woman thought she'd done something wrong. "You had me at brownies."

Without another word, Miles' hand slammed on his button, and he blasted off, leaving a giggling (y/n) to follow after him in search of those delicious, chocolatey baked goods. It took mere seconds for them to travel through the tubes - something the heroine rarely experienced since she never used the kids' chairs - and then, they found themselves in The Nest. 

Where things weren't weird at all. 

"Oh, hey, Mika! You should totally try this apple--just try this apple--everyone's doing it! Just try the apple!" They heard Bose's voice yell at them nervously, and across the room, they saw the very boy, joined by Chapa, on the couch. 

A suspicious platter of fruit was on the table in front of them whilst they sprawled out like everything was fine in the world. Suspicious because the children didn't eat fruit, not to mention how they assumed a thirty-something-year-old woman and a tween boy could be little, old Mika Macklin.

"Yeah, not Mika, but...what's going on?" Asked (y/n) as she approached the table, frowning at the boy and girl when they visibly deflated upon not seeing their intended target. 

"Oh, we're waiting for Mika," Bose replied with his usual goofy grin, budging up a little so his friends could sit, too. 

"My sister?" Miles frowned, wondering what was so urgent that it had the typically aloof Chapa fidgeting like a toddler. 

"The same."

"Why are you guys waiting for Mi---don't touch that!" (y/n)'s scream cut through her own questioning, shocking herself and the kids when Miles reached to grab an apple from the platter. Not because he was overly fond of them, but because he knew that fruit could be...healthy...occasionally.

It was utterly innocent, yet the woman yanked his hand away as if he was about to touch fire, and the glare she gave the plate afterwards... Maybe years of living with Ray had finally caught up with her. 

"What gives, (y/n/n)?" He asked, leaving the apple well alone as Chapa and Bose breathed a sigh of relief - strange, but not as strange as their friend's reaction. And she was usually the one banging on eating fruit and vegetables when she wasn't baking brownies. 

"There's something weird about this apple..." said the woman, squinting at its shiny, ruddy skin, dappled with flecks of green. Something about it seemed a little too perfect--enough to make her tummy twist into knots. 

"Wait...is this a trap?"

"How did you know?!" Chapa blinked at her, wildly surprised that she, the pure-hearted, well-meaning, kind soul, would suspect foul play when they'd prepared their special trick so carefully; was it that obvious? 

A dry look from the heroine, complete with a perfectly plucked, arched eyebrow, was enough to make the girl spill the secret, knowing the glare would come next. She never wanted to receive one of those. 

"It's not an apple. It's a water balloon filled with spicy milk that's been painted to look like a real apple."

"Once Mika takes a bite--spicy milk!" Bose exclaimed dramatically, and he and Chapa cackled mischievously like partners in crime. It wasn't the first prank the Man's Nest had seen, and it wouldn't be the last, but on Mika? Poor, innocent Mika?

"That seems mean..." muttered (y/n), although it wasn't as bad as the time a certain blond-haired sidekick replaced all the sugar in her cupboards with salt. Those cookies were the stuff of nightmares...

"Well, at least it didn't happen to you," said Chapa, who was wise enough to steer clear of Miss Danger lest she wanted to be haunted by a furious, wailing Ray for the rest of her days for pranking his sweet girl. 

"But how did you know it wasn't real?"

"Well, I didn't know it was filled with spicy milk. I just got the sense it was suspicious," answered (y/n) with a slight shrug, and she tapped her tummy, which had settled down now the peril had been averted. 

"I used to get pranked all the time in the Man Cave, but ever since the Omega Weapon gave me my Tummy Tingle, I always see them coming."

"I still can't believe you call it a Tummy Tingle," said Chapa, her teeth gritted at the ridiculous, yet cutesy, name that her friend insisted on using. It made her want to barf, which was part of the reason (y/n) kept using it. 

"My power, my rules," the heroine teased as she leaned back against the couch, smirking victoriously. "You can give me as many milky apples as you want, but they'll never work on me."

"Yeah, but why are you guys trying to prank Mika?" Asked Miles, knowing his twin better than anyone. If (y/n/n) thought she was confident with practical jokes, she had nothing on his sister despite all her nerdy, innocent ways. 

"'Cause she keeps reminding Ray to give us homework at the end of every day," said Chapa, her tone dipping into a frustrated grunt at her friend's overzealous love of learning. It nauseated her, given how Ray loved to feel teacherish by setting them pages and pages of mindless drivel.

"Yeah, that's messed up," Miles agreed, but his face told another anxious story, "but I gotta be real with you. You're never going to prank Mika. She's un-prankable." 

His words drew a disbelieving scoff and a little giggle from his friends, with Chapa throwing her head back in amusement at the stupid idea that Miss Goody Two-Shoes herself could outsmart her. 

"Wait, Mika?!"

"Like your sister, Mika?" Bose asked, and even he glanced sceptically at the kid. 

"The same!" But for Miles, this was no laughing matter. "She's a prank genius! She comes up with great pranks and sees others' pranks coming. She's like (y/n)! It's like her superpower...except for, you know, her superpower."

"Well, I'm glad I'm not the only one..." said (y/n) as the practical jokers amongst them pondered Miles' words carefully. She was by no means a pranking genius, but at least she wasn't the only one who couldn't take a joke - literally.

But, there was no time for more debate as suddenly, an alarm sounded, signalling the arrival of someone in the main tube. The group gathered at the table and played it casually, relaxing on the couch, when they saw that it was the same girl they'd been gossiping about, Mika. 

In her flowery blouse and with her bright smile, she didn't look like much of a threat. Or, at least, that's how Chapa saw her, all pink, girly, and glitzy--the total opposite of a Queen Pranker. 

"Hey, guys!" She greeted them cheerfully with a little wave before skipping the steps towards them. "How groovaaaay was that homework Ray gave us last night? Huh?"

"Extra math. Can't beat it..." (y/n) smiled in return, being the one to set the questions since her doofus didn't know his SOHCAHTOA from his surface areas. Still, the same couldn't be said for the furious girl across from her. 

Chapa snarled, crushing an apple with her electrified fist, making Bose glance at her nervously. Yet, Mika was oblivious, rambling about how she'd worked into the night, surrounded by equations, sums, and answers. 

"Mm-hmm, yup! Nothing like a long night of long divi--" Only, she stopped dead when a foreboding sense washed over her. 

She knew that feeling. She knew that smell. The smell of mischief and chaos. A distinct whiff of it came from the table, and now that she thought about it, her impish friends were a little too quiet for the Pranking Queen's liking. 

"...sion." She turned around on her heel, staring blankly at them through a long, thick lock of her curly hair with those omniscient eyes. All Miles could do was shake his head; he had warned them. 

"Someone's trying to prank me," said the girl, making Chapa purse her lips and scoff coolly. 

"Whaaaaat?" Bose asked, sounding a little more awkward, but their friend didn't buy it, ominously stepping close as they avoided her gaze. 

"I said...someone's trying to prank me." Her hands landed on her brother's shoulders, making poor Miles tense up, but he was safe in the knowledge that he hadn't grievously sinned. That prank was nothing to do with him. 

" I know it's not Miles because he's learned his lesson..." He grimaced at the memory of his utter defeat, twiddling one of the grapes he'd pulled from the fruit platter--not that he had any appetite left. 

"And I know it's not (y/n/n) 'cause she's too nice to go around viciously pranking people, so...it must be one of you."

"Whaaaaaaat?" Bose reiterated, another scoff falling from Chapa's lips, and they both shook their heads at her outlandish...if accurate...accusation. 

"Why would we try to prank you?"

"Yeah, sis. You're our girl-power B-F-F for life, chica!" Chapa exclaimed, grinning ear to ear, which may have looked more creepy than anything, particularly with the uncharacteristically sweet compliments. 

Either way, Mika didn't buy it, frowning because in the few months she'd known the brunette, she'd never called her sis or chica. Other, fouler things, maybe, but B-F-F? She smelled a rat. 

"Okay, then, why don't you take a bite of that nice, shiny apple?" He suggested, eyeing the pristinely painted apple that the pranksters had replanted on the plate. 

"That apple there?" Chapa asked, masking her gulp as best she could at the terrifying glint in the girl's eye. 

"The same."

"I'm not hungry." She twitched a smile, meeting Mika's equally sharp gaze. Not that the girl would back down. If anything, the blatant refusal bemused her, and she smirked at her friend and taunted her, too. 

"Aw..." Mika cooed in a baby voice that made Chapa's insides cringe and claw at how saccharine it was - deliberately aimed to irk her. "I'm sure you have room in your tummy for one small bite of this apple..."

"Actually, I am kinda hungry!" When she put it that way, Bose and all his dimwittedness couldn't resist reaching out to take the shining, scarlet fruit. 

All (y/n) could do was facepalm as Chapa freaked and yanked it from his hands, careful not to burst the damn thing since she didn't want spicy milk everywhere. But by then, it was too late. 

"No, Bose! It's filled with spicy milk!"

"Ah-ha!" The victorious shriek that left Mika was grating, dancing around behind her brother as Chapa growled. She didn't know what was worse; her gloating or how smug Miles was. 

"Told you! She can't be pranked!"

"Dang it!" Even Bose was frustrated, knowing how much work they'd put into painting all the fruit. Their effort only made Mika howl harder. 

"Oh, But that was cute, though! With your little fake apple filled with spicy milk...and your banana filled with glue! And your grapes, where every fourth one is a rock!"

"Ow!" She could have said it sooner. Miles wailed in agony as he bit down on what was essentially a green pebble, and he swore he felt his tooth crack. Yet, much to her friends' astonishment, Mika was uncanny, seeing through every trick and joke. 

"God, she is good..." muttered (y/n), smiling at the girl who made her tummy tingle look measly. 

Still, at least she didn't have to clean up after any pranks, wrinkling her nose at the stench of spicy milk staining the couch - and that was the mere thought. The sound of the metal door opening made her smile, though, going gooey-eyed and girly when her beloved doofus wandered in, looking as handsome as ever. 

Even if he was as big-headed as ever. 

"Not better than me!" Ray said as he swaggered in, flexing his beefy arms and holding a clipboard. "What are we talking about?"

"Well, doofus..." answered his sweet girl, who rose from the couch to smile at him brightly, which made the hero's grumpy frown turn upside down. 

He waltzed toward his wife, yearning to be near her since it had been an hour since they last spoke. And that was way too long for him to endure. 

"Missed you, sweetheart..." he whispered as his hands found her hips, placing a delicate, yet long, kiss on her soft lips - making the kids groan and wrinkle their noses. Any explanation or other rational thought left (y/n)'s mind, too busy wondering how a simple blue t-shirt could make a doofus look that hot. 

"You guys are so gross..." mumbled Chapa with one of her deep, bitter eye rolls - anything so that she didn't have to watch the man pat his beloved wife on the butt. 

The worst thing was that (y/n) encouraged him, hanging from his neck as she kissed his cheek and whispered something equally nauseating. 

"Whatever--shut up!" Ray snapped back, feeling too fluttery to care about their criticism. Why would he care when his sweet girl hugged his arm and kissed him so softly? 

"I've got an assignment for the four of you."

With a press of his remote controller, Ray spun the couch to face the holographic screen, which he'd already programmed to show them the details of his mission. Namely, one that he didn't want to complete himself for more than one reason, starting with the photo of the weirdo on-screen. 

"Who is that human peacock?" Chapa snorted once she saw the flamboyant man on the profile. 

He looked ridiculous, wearing some embellished uniform and a snooty expression. But the worst thing had to be the brown sausage-looking thing on his shoulder. What was that?

"Who, him?" Asked (y/n), regretfully looking at the man she'd been unfortunate enough to meet several times, each worse than the last. "That human peacock is Archduke Fernando...from Rivalton."

The revelation had her doofus blowing a loud raspberry as he gave a big thumbs down, nearly drowned out by the booing from the kids. They despised that place; it could only be described as the cesspit of the tricounty area - a literal hellhole that stunk as much as it sucked. 

"And, as you know, tomorrow is, of course, Kielbasa Day."

"Already?!" Bose gasped as Ray curled an arm around his wife and pulled her close. "I forget Kielbasa Day every year!"

"Anyray... The Archduke's coming to Swellview to give some stupid speech about...something stupid, and he's asked for the best protection possible."

"Nice!" Miles grinned at his friends, excited to finally be recognised and respected by their teacher and this fancy-pants duke guy. 

"...Unfortunately, me and (y/n) are busy, so he's going to have to settle for you guys." Or not. 

Ray didn't even flinch, never once looking up from his clipboard as he delivered the harsh truth, making his sidekicks glare at him. It was a fair roast, but did he have to be so mean?

"Come on!"

"That hurts, Ray!" They complained, looking at their much nicer friend for help, but even (y/n) couldn't help. She just shrugged and looked apologetic, maybe even a little bashful, as her cheeks warmed up - highly suspicious if you ask them. 

She couldn't even look them in the eye, although that could have had something to do with how Ray took her by the hand, tossing the board and putting his arm around her shoulders. Something about him seemed...smug. 

"I got a date with my incredibly hot wife, so the four of you are gonna have to protect him for us!" Said the hero, grinning at the woman, who also couldn't contain her excitement. 

Between running The Nest, fighting crime, and teaching four excitable kids, date nights had fizzled out. (y/n) knew it was bad when she looked forward to grocery shopping - the only alone time they got that wasn't in their bedroom.  

"Aw, you're goin' on a date, (y/n/n)?" Mika smiled, finding it cute how her friend practically jumped up and down - even if it made Ray work-shy and nauseatingly affectionate. 

"Yep! First one in nearly a month!" The heroine replied, clapping her hands together. She looked up at her husband happily, and her gri only grew wider when he stooped lower to give her another gentle kiss. "I'm so excited for it!"

"You and me both, pretty girl..." muttered Ray, a dangerous, dark glint in his eye as his hand slipped south from her lower back. 

His wife could only roll her eyes at that - how his hand never moved from that spot until he spotted the fruit platter, still sitting between the kids. It looked entirely innocent to the doofus, and since it had been a while since breakfast, he supposed no one would mind...

"Hmmm, don't mind if I do!"

"Sir, you might not want to eat--" said Bose, trying to warn his teacher after he picked up the prank apple - the one that was like a grenade the moment he squeezed it between his fingers. 

"Shhhh!" Chapa shushed him, interrupting the boy before he could warn Ray of the spicy-milky danger he was in. "If he wants to eat an apple, let him eat an apple."

"Thank you!" Ray nodded, even if he found their tense faces a little weird. He opened his mouth to bite into the fruit, with Chapa squirming from the building excitement in her seat. 

"--Oh, as always, if you guys screw this up, I'll be furious! And if you do everything correctly, I will not praise you."

"He won't, but I will..." said (y/n), slapping her doofus on the arm for being so mean, but she couldn't help but eye the apple nervously. That thing made her tummy tingle go haywire. "Doofus, are you sure you want that apple?"

"Of course, sweet girl. Do you want some?" He offered her a bite, smiling innocently since he knew of her habit of stealing his food and drinks. Yet, he couldn't think about why she jumped back like that.

"No! You can have it, but you should really know--"

"Okay, darlin'. Oh, one last thing..." said Ray, turning to the giggling children as they tried to conceal their laughter. They leaned forward to catch the action, but they couldn't make it too obvious. "Don't make fun of his ponytail. Okay, that's it--byyyyyyyeeeeee!"

"Raymond, don't--" It was too late. 

The moment Ray's pearly whites touched the delicate, dappled skin, the apple burst, spraying his face and chiselled torso. All (y/n) could do was try to avoid being splashed, scolding the kids for their loud, raucous laughter, but a giggle breached even her lips. 

He looked ridiculous, with milk dripping down his shirt - one his beloved wife bought for his birthday, Christmas, or some other gift-giving occasion. And, that wasn't the worst part - that would be how it felt like lava on his tongue. 

"Ah! Spicy milk!"

"Oh, doofus, you're soaked through..." His sweet girl comforted him, although the most she could do was dab at his chest with a napkin. At least she got to feel his muscles... "And will you stop laughing?!"

"This is why you should never eat fruit!" Ray grumbled, stomping toward the metal door as his precious wife followed him, throwing a few glares over her shoulder when Chapa kept giggling. He couldn't escape the hyenas quickly enough, pulling her down the corridor. 

"It will wash out, Raymond..." said (y/n) as she guided her husband toward the showers, which he would need before the milk soured. 

"True..." Ray shrugged, pulling his shirt over his head since he hated how the wet fabric clung to his skin. Well, there was a silver lining, namely the sight (y/n) got of his naked body. 

"Hey, sweet girl, should we save water and shower together?" Make that two silver linings.

*LE SMUT STARTS NOW*

~

Date time. It was here, it was happening, and Ray was loving it. 

He was like a child as he skipped and twirled around a parking lot, almost humming a dreamy tune under his breath, if it didn’t make him look weird. Grinning like an idiot, he circled his open-top car – the fancy one – and opened the door for his sweet girl, who only playfully rolled her eyes when she saw how happy he was. 

(y/n) was buzzing, too, graciously accepting his hand as she climbed out of the car. She couldn’t wait to sit down and relax for a couple of hours; no one but her and her doofus would be at that table, and then, after a long, quiet dinner, they could go home and enjoy their night off. And judging by how he rubbed his hands together, the hero couldn’t wait to get to dessert.

“Would you join me, dear lady?” He asked in a silly, fancy voice as he offered her his arm, making (y/n) giggle. 

“But of course, good sir.” She accepted, twisting their arms together as he led them toward the place he’d chosen – a restaurant neither of them had tried before, but Ray was always up for new things. 

It was lovely that he’d booked, surprising her with the reservation when it became apparent that they desperately needed some time away from The Nest. But in hindsight, (y/n) wished she’d double-checked where they were going, her smile wobbling when she saw the place. With its neon lights and vintage vibe, the restaurant made for a hip and trendy burger bar, which wasn’t the best place for the woman to break out her best jewellery and heels. 

“You could’ve told me we were getting burgers, doof,” she said, giving him a slightly disproving side-eye, discounted by the teasing warmth in her gaze. “I would’ve worn something different.”

Ray looked at her, gaze sweeping down the little, black dress she’d chosen for a fancier date. “What do you mean, sweet girl?” 

He smirked, knowing withholding his plans from her was a little devious, but he couldn’t help it. Sure, she looked beautiful in everything she wore, but seeing her dressed up was something else. “You look hot.”

“More like overdressed, you big doofus,” replied (y/n), feeling a little silly in her sleek, sexy dress and expensive heels as they reached the door, and before they even stepped in, she already pictured the beer-guzzlers and teenagers inside. 

“This looks more like a jeans and t-shirt kinda place.”

“I like this dress…” the hero muttered, his hand finding the small of her back after holding the door open for his sweet girl. “I like anything. Anything can be taken off.”

Her scandalised, wide-eyed expression met his grinning one, scolding him with a whack on the arm. “Raymond!” 

Glancing around the doorway, she noticed how quiet the place was – not unusual for a midweek lunchtime. Still, their teasing exchange invited a few glances from the bar and booths, namely from some regulars. They eyed the couple up and down before returning to their drinks and food, too drunk or uninterested to care who’d just walked in. 

“Behave.”

“Oh, I intend to,” Ray said, smiling as a young man approached them – a tall, thin guy of no more than twenty-five. With his dyed black hair, double earrings, and rings on his fingers, he was the sort of cool kid (y/n) expected to work in a restaurant like that, and she smiled as he asked for their reservation. 

Her doofus’ hand tightened on her waist, ensuring to empathise the Mrs part of Mr and Mrs Manchester. Whatever his jealousy, the obliging boy – a mere child – showed them to their table, weaving through the small, cosy tables to an even cosier booth in a secluded corner. 

She slipped in first, enjoying the cool leather and velveteen cushions, but mostly how she could stare dreamily at her husband as he sat across from her, brushing past the weedy kid with his immense bulk. 

“Seriously, though, doofus,” (y/n) asked as she picked up her menu once the waiter walked away. “What made you choose The Unhappy Cow for our date?”

“The food here is meant to be insane, and nothing is too good for my wife,” he answered, barely looking at the menu as his eyes softened – just like they always did when looking upon his favourite girl. He held her hand across the table, stroking her wedding rings with his thumb as she sighed, propping her chin on her hand with the most lovestruck of gazes.

She sighed, wondering which jackpot she hit to get him. His hand felt impossibly warm on hers, with all thoughts about food gone when he gave her that beaming, pearly-white smile. “Ray…”

“And because of the low lighting, I can do this…” She watched as his other hand slipped into his trouser pocket, but he didn’t reach for his phone, car keys, or anything like that. 

Not five seconds later, soft vibrations pulsed against her clit, making the woman jolt in her seat at the sudden sensation. Yet, to say it was unexpected didn’t mean it was unwelcome; her eyes fluttered at the gentle pleasure, her propped-up arm fell against the table, and a squeak left her lips, fingers trembling under his palm. 

“Ray!”

He smirked at her reaction, circling the buttons under his fingertips as he enjoyed watching her buzz, too. “I’d keep your voice down if I were you. You’re wearing them, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Mr Manchester…” (y/n) replied, a brattish note in her voice when the vibrations disappointingly died down, leaving her feeling strangely hollow. 

“You don’t fool me, Mrs Manchester,” said the man, leaning back in the booth and spreading his deliciously thick thighs. He looked immense in the cramped space but oh so good in his brightly patterned, open-collar shirt.

Retrieving his hand from his pocket, he stroked his chin thoughtfully, knowing his effect on her when he did that. “So, I’ll ask again…are you wearing them?”

“I…yes.” She couldn’t lie to him, not when her pussy had piqued its interest. Squirming in her seat, she was all too aware of how tight her dress felt after being teased like that, but she was even more conscious of what she wore underneath and how soaked they were already. 

“Good girl,” Ray muttered, his stomach swooping low at the thought of his wife wearing specially boughtunderwear. And by specially bought, he meant the ones he’d surprised her with five minutes before they walked out of the door, begging her to slip them on since he’d paid a small fortune for the pleasure. Oh, and what a pleasure he hoped they’d be. 

“I didn’t actually think you’d do it.”

(y/n) narrowed her eyes at him, feeling her cheeks warm as she recalled how easily she’d given in. In fairness, she’d brought it on herself, but his smug, sexy grin made the embarrassment even worse. 

His eyes had watched her like a hawk as she stepped into the bathroom and pushed her lacy underwear to her ankles before exchanging it for what her doofus called vibrating panties. God, give her strength. “You’re the one who insisted!” 

“You’re the one who suggested it.” He shrugged, acting nonchalantly despite the pure, childish exhilaration in his veins. “They’re your coupons, after all. I’m just cashing them in.”

She couldn’t argue with that, cursing the day she presented her newly wedded husband with that infernal box. As if their sex life ever needed spicing up – what was she thinking? But it made him happy – like a kid on Christmas when she emerged from the bathroom with no inkling of whether or not she actually swapped the underwear. Now, he had his answer, much to her embarrassment.

“But here? Really?”

He nodded, with that shit-eating grin again, as he laughed lightly. He was enjoying himself – perhaps a little too much. “Anywhere, any time, any place.” 

“Shall we see if they work?”

“R—” Before the heroine could give him one of her stern warnings, his hand returned to his pocket, and within seconds, the vibrations returned. “Holy shit.”

She lurched forward on the table, tipping her head back to give the smouldering man before her a view of her long, flawless neck. Ray gulped at the sight, finding it simultaneously beautiful and torturous to see her like that; his wife in the throes of pleasure was exquisite, but he wondered if he’d be able to keep his hands off her. 

“Huh…” he murmured, marvelling at her visceral reaction as her eyes cracked open. “That’s just the first setting, and you’re already squirmin’, sweetheart. There’s four more.”

“Doofus…” She moaned, biting her lip to keep quiet. It might have been midday, but they weren’t alone; she acutely remembered walking past several occupied tables not ten minutes earlier, each filled with people. They’d hear her whimpers if she got too loud, but it was so good…and yet not enough. “More…”

He shook his head, although he never left the secret remote control. Sitting facing the entrance, he saw a familiarly lanky figure approaching them, wearing that stupid band and charming smile that made Ray want to roll his eyes. He had a notepad and pen in hand, so the hero backed off, straightening his spine and smirking. 

“Nuh-uh, pretty girl. The waiter’s coming, and I don’t want that scrawny-lookin’ kid seeing my wife like this.”

The buzzing died to nothing, leaving (y/n) bitterly disappointed as the warmth in her core disappeared, too. It was only enough to spark pleasure in her body, leaving her twitching and slightly frustrated; if only he’d upped it… “Jerk.” 

But she couldn’t pout for long, jumping in her seat when a dark, looming body appeared beside her. “Have you decided what you’d like to eat and drink?”

With a polite smile and poised pen, the waiter waited patiently as she took a moment to process the question, standing on the politeness of his good manners. Another second later, she realised she’d never actually read the menu properly, so the heroine frantically scanned the jumble of letters, looking for anything safe enough to order practically blind. 

“Erm…yes…” She said, clearly stalling the kid as she ran her finger down the list, swallowing her moans, only to choke on her own saliva when Ray’s thumb found button number two. 

A stronger sensation hummed on her clit, giving her what she wanted at the exact wrong moment. Her cunt clenched around nothing, hijacking all notions of food and replacing them with laments of how achingly empty she felt, slick seeping against the vibrator. “I’ll have the—the—”

“Go on, sweet girl. What do you want?” Ray asked innocently, fighting a groan when she stammered and shook, looking so beautiful.

His sweet girl was usually the picture of calm and collection, but with the panties on setting two, she couldn’t help but clench her fists and quiver. 

“I want…” (y/n) gulped, taking a deep breath as she powered through to ignore the vibrations. Although, she could do little more than point at the menu and stutter… “T-The classic cow burger with c-curly fries…”

The waiter dutifully noted down her order, having come across more than a few weirdos in his time – perhaps this woman was just shy? He never would have imagined how her husband teased her, flip-flopping between settings two and three to create pulses that only made her mind foggier. “And to drink?”

“Um…” Shit, she hadn’t thought about that. (y/n) glanced at glare at her cocksure husband, knowing how thoroughly he was enjoying her torture as he played with his new toy. A trickle of slick ran down her slit, undoubtedly pooling on the leather beneath her as she raised the menu to select a drink, her hands shaking slightly. 

Turning the menu over, the heroine looked at the cocktail menu, choosing the first thing she saw as Ray maintained the deliciously intense buzzing. “A—a margarita, th—thanks.”

“…Sir?”

Ray didn’t even look at the menu or the waiter, too enraptured by his wife as she slumped against the booth. She looked like jelly, her half-lidded eyes blinking slowly as he mercifully allowed her to enjoy the high setting. “I’ll have the same but with a beer. Thanks.”

“Okay…” As the waiter gathered the menus, all (y/n) could do was sit there with hot cheeks, hanging her head to avoid his gaze. Every extra second he took by her side felt like a year, praying he’d just leave before she howled like she wanted. “I’ll get it sent to you ASAP.”

Finally, thank God, he left, obliviously leaving the couple alone as he returned to the kitchen or the foyer or the goddamn moon for all the woman cared. With their vague sense of privacy again, she sighed contently, rolling her hips to try and chase the vibrator, enjoying how it slipped and slid through her wetness, teasing her clit. 

She looked at her husband through bleary eyes, wishing she could be madder at him, but all she saw was a ridiculously handsome man. His broad shoulders, strong arms, and thick torso only made her wetter, suddenly wishing his cock could fill her in tandem with the buzz. “You’re evil.”

“I’m Captain Man, sweet girl. I eat evil for breakfast,” Ray replied in a near-silent whisper, having no regrets as he shifted in his seat. His length rubbed against his zipper, painfully hard after watching her silent struggle, and he imagined how soft and silky her soaked walls would be around his fingers. 

“Don’t say you didn’t enjoy it…”

“What happened to not showing the scrawny kid?” She asked dryly, yet there was no malice in it. She was too content and drunk on pleasure to give any real bite. 

“Changed my mind…” He shrugged, licking his lips when she whined quietly. “You look so pretty when you’re trying not to cum.”

She frowned at him for that, wanting to give him a piece of her mind, but how could she? “Raymond…Fuck.” 

Her pussy throbbed, soaking the seat and her thighs as she longed for a good, thorough fucking. Still, she chased her high, feeling it somewhere far off but slowly approaching, and the thrill made her shiver. 

Her nipples hardened, slightly peeking through her dress, although you’d have to squint to notice. Ray, for one, stared, noticing everything about her, wondering if he pulled down the front, was she wearing a bra, or would he be able to suck and lick and tease them like he desperately craved?

“I can just sit here, mind my own business, relax, and watch my wife cream herself without ever laying a finger on her.” 

Swallowing thickly, he growled as she twitched, bucking her hips into nothing – chasing his cock like the greedy girl she was. “Fuck, you give a good show, darlin’.”

“Do I?” She asked innocently, despite looking like absolute sin, as she bit her lower lip, removing another layer of lipstick until it faded. 

“Yeah…” He nodded slightly, thumbing the remote and the final button – the one he knew would send her hurtling toward the edge. “You want it higher?”

She shook her head, already feeling dizzy from the powerful vibe, but at the same time, she longed for the extra push toward her orgasm. She could feel it, noting how her cunt throbbed and squeezed, secretly wanting her doofus to bend her over the table and fuck her long and hard. “No… Yes… I don’t know.”

“I say higher.” He didn’t give her a chance to debate it. 

He pushed the final button, and the reaction was instantaneous. Her trembling hand nudged the cutlery as she let out an embarrassingly loud squeak, drawing strange looks from those only a few feet away. Luckily, the darkness and high backs of the booths shielded them, not that it stopped (y/n) from slapping a hand over her mouth. 

“Look at you. You’re trying so hard not to let them hear you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, a few tears escaping as she did. Her clit felt like it was burning – so good it was painful – and she jerked her hips like she could escape the torturous assault. 

Her voice sounded croaky and muffled as she spoke from behind her hand, lightly slapping her hand on the table as the need to cum grew stronger. “Don’t want to get kicked out—o-or a-arrested.” 

“Like I said, Captain Man,” her doofus said cockily, which would usually elicit an eye roll, but it just made her cunt quiver, watching as he stretched and slipped his free hand under the table. 

His eyes fluttered, too, as he allowed himself a single touch of his clothed cock – taking himself in hand would be a step too far, unfortunately. 

“Can still get arrested.”

“Don’t let them hear you, then,” he told her coolly, resting both his palms on the table as he steeled himself—resigned himself to watch the show. 

He took a shaking hand in his, stroking it tender with the thought that it would soothe her. It made the fire within her burn brighter, wishing she could drag it across the table and ask him to finger her underneath. Would that be too much to ask? 

“How close are you?”

“Close,” she replied quietly, only to nearly scream when the vibrations dipped to the lower second for a mere moment, leaving her in despair. “Leave it on hi—!”

“Like that?” Within another second, it was back, making her pussy twitch at the teasing. 

She didn’t have the energy or focus to glower at him; instead, she gripped the edge of the table, finding that if she squeezed her thighs together, the sensations tripled. 

“God, why haven’t we done this sooner?”

“‘Cause I—I—I would’ve had—a—a heart attack!” She exclaimed breathlessly, questioning if anyone would notice if she hiked up her skirt and slipped a hand down—they definitely would. 

It was all his fault, and she stared at him with teary eyes – so close, yet it wasn’t enough without her handsome doofus on top of her. “Ray…fuck—-”

“‘Can tell you’re close, and m’not even touching you, sweet girl…” he muttered, drinking the sight of her in like a fine wine. 

He’d loved and fucked her long enough to know when she was minutes away from cumming. Her hair was tousled from thrashing against the booth; her skin looked clammy; she couldn’t sit still, and she couldn’t stop the almost inaudible whine in the back of her throat. “Your legs shakin’ yet? Getting that sweet pussy all wet f’me?”

“Mm-hmm…” She nodded weakly, wishing she had the coherency to say in words how she was sitting in a puddle of her own slick – so ready for him. 

“That’s it. Get her nice and ready for me ‘cause once we leave here…” He bit his lip, already picturing all the positions he’d twist her into once he had her in bed. 

It felt like aeons since they’d had a day dedicated to purely fucking. It was difficult when four kids and a Schwoz begged for attention all the time, but now he had ample opportunity to reacquaint himself with her sweet, sweet cunt. Oh, how he’d drink her in after lunch. All afternoon if he could. 

“What’s my record again? Eight in one night? How about we go for ten this time? Or more? We have all day, after all…”

“Shit, Ray—-C-close—” (y/n) moaned, fighting to keep quiet, but it was difficult when he planted more filth in her mind. Images of them fucking flashed before her eyes, encouraging her to shake and clench and drenchand— “I’mma—-I’mma—“

“Cum for me, sweet girl.” Ray gulped at a twitch of his cock, eyes fixed on how her face scrunched up and her body leaned over, giving him a view down the valley of her cleavage. “Just f’me…”

One word from him, and she let go, shrieking silently with a hoarse voice as her pussy gushed. “Doofus!” 

The emptiness of it all struck her, even as the powerful humming stretched the pleasure for what seemed like years as she hunched over the table, shoulders trembling. Her thighs pressed together, reminding her of their stickiness while the white-hot pleasure ran through her blood, filling her every nerve. 

Throughout the beautiful scene, Ray never touched the remote, smirking to himself when the vibrations clearly became too much, pulling another silent moan from his precious wife. She wrapped her knuckles against the table, hips jerking against the overstimulation, wishing for mercy when—

“Here are your drinks—sorry about the wait.” The pleasure turned to ice-cold dread, and the buzzing stopped. 

As (y/n) swore her heart stopped, Ray pulled himself together, slipping his hand into his pocket and killing the vibrations. He also discreetly arranged himself, clearing his throat as if the sex goddess across from him didn’t achingly turn him on. 

But he had to remain composed – one of them had to. The heroine had never felt so bashful, pretending to scratch her forehead as the lithe waiter appeared from nowhere, carrying a platter laden with food and drinks. “I’ve got you some halloumi sticks on the house—are you all right, ma’am?”

He frowned in concern upon seeing the flushed lady, who had to fan her cheeks or else she feared overheating. She smiled faintly, nodding but saying nothing, too scared to use her voice in case it was as scratchy as she feared. 

“My wife is just hot. That’s all,” Ray told the boy calmly, waving off his concern because that was his job. His wife to worry about. And, much to his victorious smirk, only he could bask in her post-orgasm glow. 

“Oh…” The waiter muttered, and Ray rolled his eyes at how fortunately oblivious he was. “Do you want some water?”

(y/n) shook her head, ignoring her gloating husband as she tried to appear normal despite her racing heartbeat. “I’m fine. Just hot…”

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” The hero asked, fluttering his eyelashes with that doofy smile of his, which was anything but innocent as he patted her hand. “You look pretty thirsty to me.”

Her reply came short and sharp, feeling the heat and embarrassment return as her husband stroked her knuckles with his thumb. “Actually, I think I will have some water.” 

It was seemingly tender and affectionate, but she knew better. Plastering her brightest smile, she looked at the waiter, meeting his eye as he anxiously looked back and forth between them. “Thank you.”

The kid scuttled away, not knowing whether to be concerned or disturbed by the strange interaction. Puffing out her cheeks with a heavy sigh, (y/n) looked darkly at her husband, who couldn’t help but chuckle, no matter how much trouble it would land him in. 

“Thirsty, Raymond? Really?”

“Just saying what I see, darlin’,” replied the man, grinning cheekily as he brought the back of her hand to his lips – feeding his desire with the feeling of her skin on his. 

“As if I’d tell that punk that I’d just had the pleasure of watching my wife c—“

“Okay, okay! Don’t say it !” She hissed, glancing around nervously in case anyone heard. 

Now that she was out of her horny-induced haze, she couldn’t remember how quiet she’d been – if she’d been quiet at all. She only hoped their rendezvous remained secret, glancing up at her doofus through her eyelashes as she tugged his hand. “Can’t we go home already? I know you want me, too…”

“Fuck…” Hoping to make a quick getaway – just in case – she raised a leg under the table, having slipped her foot out of her heel. There, she felt his bulge and how he instinctively spread his legs to give her more access, and it was her turn to smirk as she rolled her toes.

Still, as much as he longed to ravish her, Ray knew the wait would only make fucking her sweeter. Hell, he’d class it as dessert. He pushed her foot away, clearing his throat and leaning forward, giving her those Captain Man bedroom eyes that did nothing to stop (y/n)’s excitement, but it did pin her in place. 

“We’re on a date, sweetheart. You know the rules, but if you get desperate, there’s always the bathroom over there, and you know I have no problem bending you over and—“

A ping interrupted him, and to his deep frown, the hero watched as his wife fished her PearPhone from her purse. She glanced at the screen and frowned herself, forgetting their flirtatious banter when she read a text. “Wait a minute.”

“Sweet girl!” Ray whined, losing all of his cool when he lost her to a slab of technology, and he bounced in place as he pawed at her arm. “Pay attention to me!”

The woman raised her hand, placing a delicate finger against his lips, which Ray immediately kissed. He worked his way down her wrist, hoping to entice her into taking him up on that bathroom offer, but his sweet girl stared at her phone. 

“No, hang on, doofus. It’s from Mika.”

His lips froze against her skin, twisting into a scowl at the thought of those meddling kids scheming to cock-block him for the Nth time. “I told them not to call, text, or, hell, smoke signal us! What does a guy have to do to woo his wife in peace?!” 

The grumpy frown on his handsome face seemed permanent as a sinking feeling settled in his gut. He hated to ask, but why did he feel it wasn’t just a one-time message? “What does she want?”

As her eyes scanned the words on the screen, (y/n) gulped, her gaze anxiously skirting to Ray when she opened a link to the KLVY newsfeed, sent by the girl. “Oh, fuck.” 

“What?” Ray asked, his mouth set in a grim, straight line as his wife cringed, not knowing how to tell him. But she had to, swiping down to the story that Mika highlighted, admitting the truth with a goddamn sad-face emoji. 

“Okay, doofus. So, don’t get mad, but…” She turned the phone so he could see, and the hero felt like screaming. 

On the headlines of KLVY stood Danger Force alongside Archduke Fernando of Rivalton. They weren’t smiling or posing proudly – that would mean they did something right for once. 

Oh, no. He gave them one job, and they fucked it up. Cancel those burgers - that was their date ruined. 

*LE SMUT ENDS NOW*

Danger Force expected to get yelled at. They done goofed – they understood that, but honestly? Nothing could prepare them for Angry Ray, who marched himself and his sweet girl back to the Man's Nest quicker than they could escape to Cuba. Seriously, Miles wondered how long he could hide out there before his boss hunted him down.

But Ray would go to the ends of the Earth to find those interfering little miscreants. He gave them one job—one guy to protect for one afternoon, and they couldn't even manage that. He could forgive the humiliation they caused but interrupting a steamy date with Mrs Manchester? Hell hath no fury like a doofus left high and dry.

"Statistically, I haven't been on a date with my sweet girl since you guys showed up!" Exclaimed the furious hero, who (y/n) thought cut a dashing figure in his trademark, alarmingly bright shirt. Plus, Angry Ray was Hot Ray, although the kids would have argued otherwise, sitting on the couch with chins on their fists as he ranted. 

"But I finally get a chance to go out with my absolutely stunning wife, who looks really hot in her dress—" They couldn't argue with that, glancing at the lady in her little, black dress. "—and you guys have to go ahead and—"

"Whoa, whoa, doof, hang on..." (y/n) interrupted, stepping forward and laying a hand on her husband's beefy arm. She didn't  care about the yelling, knowing the kids needed a telling-off for slacking off, but she noticed something weird mid-rant. 

"Oh, sure, pretty girl..."

Padding across the floor barefoot – having grown tired of her heels after stomping back home in a foul mood – she looked around the couch. She saw Bose, Mika, and Miles, but no sassy sourpuss, who also deserved to see her disappointed face after ruining what been a deliciously spicy date. 

"Where's Chapa?"

"She suited up to answer a call," answered Miles awkwardly, sitting on the back of the half-moon couch with his sister. "Some dude was spittin' on people at BalMart."

"Alone?" The quirked a brow, not liking when one of her babies went off without backup — even if they were mood killers. Ray, however, was not so concerned, scoffing and puffing out his cheeks as he curled an arm around her waist to pull his sweet girl close; he deserved her precious attention, not them. 

"Who cares, sweetheart? I'll yell at her when she gets back," he grumbled, placing his other hand on his hip, muttering curses under his breath—some of which were audible to the children's innocent ears. 

"Look, I'm sorry Archduke Fernando got pranked on our watch..." said Mika, folding her arms in a manner that did not convey any remorse. "But honestly, that guy was kinda a jerk!"

"Yeah!" Bose agreed from his place on the floor. Why he chose to sit there rather than on the couch was anyone's guess. "He keeps calling the Man's Nest and demanding I give back Gideon."

"You probably should. You don't know where that's  been," said (y/n), cringing with everyone else as the boy rubbed his face on the Archduke's severed ponytail – a fallen soldier of the prank. Watching him nuzzle it made her want to be sick, knowing Fernando loved it...a little too well.

"I would never do not! You're just so soft!" Bose cooed in a babyish voice, ignoring the haters and cradling Gideon like it was his firstborn child—or how Ray cradled his sweet girl. 

"So, who cares if he got pranked, anyway?" Said Miles, swiftly moving on from that. Thankfully, his friend sat so low that he couldn't watch the lovefest; instead, he turned to Ray's grumpy scowl, acting like it and (y/n)'s disappointment didn't sting. "I mean, it's no big deal."

"No big deal?" The hero stuttered, glancing at his wife's pretty visage before facing the ignorant boy. "You really think war is no big deal?!"

Well, when he put it like that... All he got was confused giggles.

"What?"

"What are you talking about? War?" Asked the bemused Macklin Twins, although neither Ray nor (y/n) was laughing. 

"So soft." Bose was just simping for some weirdo's hair, utterly unaware of the tense situation literally passing over his head. 

"He's talking about The Thousand Pranks War," (y/n) told them, sounding serious and severe like anyone would when talking about horrific, bloody conflict. But honestly, neither kid knew what she was talking about; in fairness, it was pretty singular to Swellview. 

"Really?" Ray scoffed, seeing their puzzled faces. "Don't they teach you kids anything in schools these days?!"

"Uh, doofus... We're their teachers," muttered (y/n), thinking her adorkable husband had kinda stepped on her point there. Still, she couldn't stay mad at him, not when he looked so pretty with his floofy hair and huge, squishy pecs.

"Yeah, and we usually have to teach you," added Miles dryly, eyes narrowly fixed on the moronic man, who glared when the sarcastic comment distracted him from the adoring gaze of his wife. Need Ray remind them that they were the ones in trouble here? Well, he was gonna. 

"That's it!" He spat before shoving his fist in his pocket to search for his remote. "We're watching the Ken Burns documentary."

"Ugh, do we have to?" (y/n) grumbled, knowing precisely what her doofus was referring to, and it wasn't what Mika was thinking of. "It's so dumb and boring."

"Ken Burns made a documentary about The Thousand Pranks War?" She asked confusedly, wondering why her friend found that so dull. It wasn't like (y/n/n) to shun knowledge, but she'd soon find out. 

"That man has made a documentary about everything. This, however, is one of the crappier ones," answered the heroine with a slight eye roll, but she soon perked up when Ray clicked on the video, perched his butt on the edge of the couch arm, and pulled her into his arms. Now, she could feel his hard muscles everywhere.

The documentary started with an oldy-worldy font and a background that looked like tea-stained paper – just to give enough to be watching an idea of how old the war was. A harmonica and banjo played in the background, matching the redneck accent of the bizarre narrator. 

"The Thousand Pranks War between Swellview and Rivalton had raged for decades, and soldiers from both sides had left letters to tell the tale..." he said in that southern drawl, and the scene changed to show two men, both standing awkwardly in scruffy, old-west clothing. 

"Dearest Martha, I write to you with my underwear stretched way above my head—" No one said it was a serious documentary; that was just how crazy The Thousand Pranks War was. "—A grievous injury I incurred at the Battle of Wedgie Hill."

"This prank war seems to stretch on with no end in sight...much like my tighty-whities," said the simpering narrator, making the kids frown and huff in disbelief. They'd never heard such drivel in all their lives, watching as the clip showed not the actors in various prancing positions but supposed historical pranking, too. 

"But my resolve has not wavered. How can two towns end a prank war when no one knows who started it? Or whence it began?" It continued, showing a prehistoric cave drawing of some poor cave-stickman getting hilariously eaten by a bear. 

"I do not know if you will even see this letter, for it appears I have unknowingly been writing with disappearing ink. My dearest Marta, please kiss the kids for me and tell Ruffles he is a good boy. XOXO, Unknown Soldier."

The end couldn't come soon enough, with (y/n) swearing her eyes would roll out of her skull when she saw that stupid photo of Elvis and the hand buzzer. Seriously, she wasn't a killjoy, but she found that whole war to be ridiculous – just the sort of thing that thrived in Swellview. 

"Thank God, that's over..." said the heroine as her doofus turned off the holographic screen, even if it meant he had no excuse to snuggle her anymore. They should've been more like Bose, who, halfway through the documentary, had clambered onto the couch beside Mika to take a little nap, which sounded heavenly to (y/n) right now. 

"It even put Bose to sleep!"

"Huh... What'd I miss?" Muttered the weary boy, who jolted awake with a little snort upon hearing his name. 

"What you missed is historical footage of The Thousand Pranks War that's about to get started up all over again!" Ray exclaimed gravely, his glare only deepening when he saw how drowsy the kid was. He should have expected it from him as Bose smiled and yawned, looking as happy and go-lucky as ever after rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

"Hey, can we watch Jumanji?" He asked cutely with that dimpled grin of his, which only infuriated the doof more. 

"No, we can't watch Jumanji!" The hero snapped, not caring for The Rock or Robin Williams – whichever one they wanted to watch. The twins were up for it, too, completely unaware of the chaos they'd caused. "You guys just reignited a war!"

"Really? Before yesterday, there hadn't been any pranking between Swellview and Rivalton for thirty years," said Mika, sounding like a know-it-all like usual. If she remembered what her history books said – and she almost always did – Ray was overreacting – like he always did. 

"Maybe yesterday's prank will just blow over."

Those were her famous last words. On cue – as if she'd been listening – Chapa burst through the front door, gasping for breath and looking like she'd walked through hell. Facially, she looked fine – perhaps a little sweaty and windswept, but that wasn't an issue. The problem came with what she was wearing: a cute, bright purple, spangled, bedazzled, glittery, and glitzy cheerleader's costume that Volt would never be seen dead in. 

And, on the front, a large, scarlet R was splashed across her chest. (y/n) could only guess, but she had a hunch...

"They pranked me..." Much to her friends' horror, the poor girl whimpered as she staggered through the door. 

"Chapa! What happened?" (y/n) exclaimed, and she rushed over to take her wounded baby in her arms. 

It wasn't like the girl to be so touchy-feely and needy, but the moment she fell into the woman's embrace, with a blanket curled around her shoulders, it all came pouring out. She really needed that warm, safe hug, snuggling into (y/n/n)'s body as they fell to the floor. 

"Looks like they ran the Tallahassee Two-Step," said Mika, knowing the signature prank anywhere, being the prank nerd she was. 

"The what?" Bose frowned as they all gathered around. 

"It's a simple prank. Someone calls in a fake spit-mergency, second pranked spills grease on a first responder's uniform," explained Mika as she helped to check her friend over, who could only nod weakly, "third grifter offers to clean said uniform at no charge. They take your clothes and tell you to wait in a room. When you get your clothes back—it's the cheerleading costume from your town's hated rival."

"She's absolutely right!" Chapa replied, crying into the heroine's shoulder as she pulled the blanket tighter around herself. Gasps echoed around the room, shocked that she could have been so easily fooled, but that only made the failure hurt more. 

"Avenge...me..." she whispered before slumping into (y/n)'s arms, utterly out for the count. 

"You still think this is just gonna blow over?" Ray asked Mika thickly, secretly saddened by the sight of his beloved wife rocking the girl in her arms. He would've been jealous any other time, but if anyone deserved one of those warm, snuggly hugs, it was her. 

"One, two, three, four..." muttered Miles, hunched over and looking at his sleeping friend with a dark expression. 

"I declare a Prank War!" With those five words, the bitter rivalry between Swellview and Rivalton began again, and no one would be spared. All's fair in love and pranking.

~

It didn't take long for the commencement of the Prank War to reach everyone's ears, and no sooner than the first mischievous joke was played, KLVY News was all over it. 

On the next day's broadcast, Ray, (y/n), and Danger Force gathered around the monitor to watch Trent and Mary, looking dashing and ditzy as they stared down the camera. They talked about nothing else, and the kids, who, along with (y/n/n), had nursed Chapa back to her fighting spirit, listened avidly to what they had to say. Ray was also interested...in his wife's butt in those jeans she changed into. 

"Breaking news? More like pranking news!" 

"That's right, Trent," replied Mary, who had no idea what was going on like usual, but she looked serious. That was all that mattered. "It's war! Again! Between Swellview and Rivalton!"

"Yuck!" The man grimaced, sneering into the camera because he knew where his loyalties lay.

"The latest victim? Danger Force's own Volt, whose superhero costume was stolen, is now on display in Rivalton's Country Music-themed knockoff store—Hee Haw Purée." 

They just liked to add salt to Chapa's wounds, and she growled when they reminded her of possibly the worst moment of her life. The humiliation, the pain, the anguish... Now, all those filthy Rivaltons could gloat over her defeat, and somehow, KLVY knew all about it. Worse, they told the world, and all she got in return was vicious comments, cruel laughter, or piteous glances; it made her want to explode in a fit of vengeful fury. 

"Volt was later seen walking home in shame, dressed like a Rivalton cheerleader," said Trent as the green screen behind him showed a pap photo of one very embarrassed sidekick; Chapa tried to block the camera's view, but everyone could see. Purple was not her colour. It was Rivalton's. 

"Our sources indicate that Volt was shaken, but she is now in stable condition."

"Not for much longer, she's not," (y/n) muttered as she cringed at the photo she saw on the holographic monitor. Standing beside her adorkable doofus, she wondered how the news found out so quickly. Still, her thoughts were quickly interrupted by the screech released by the furious girl, who was, unfortunately, close enough to hurt her eardrums. 

"AH, I HATE THAT PICTURE! GET IT OFF THE SCREEN!" Chapa yelled, her glare mainly focused on Ray since he had the remote, but he didn't turn it off. Bose and Miles also winced at her volume as Schwoz stood awkwardly behind his bosses; honestly, he didn't understand this pranking stuff. 

"We're having some trouble getting this image off the screen, so we're just gonna have to leave it up for a while." Sparks flew from her fingertips when Trent said exactly what she didn't want to hear. 

Miles and Bose could laugh, giggling quietly at her pain, but they wouldn't be if she caught them. Chapa was looking for someone to light up, and she could only zap Ray so many times for patting his wife's butt in public.

"In totally unrelated news, prank supply stores in both cities are selling out as people continue to line up around the block—" The news anchors didn't say another word, or at least Chapa didn't let them. 

With a surge of scarlet lightning, she fried the screen until it fizzled out, burning that hideous picture of her from her eyes. The world would still see it, but she could pretend it was gone, gritting her teeth in frustration. 

"God, I can't stand Rivalton!" She exclaimed, spitting out the name like it was venom. 

"Yeah, the only thing worse than Rivalton is—oh, wait! Nothing!" Schwoz replied jokingly before doing a particularly cringe-worthy dab. He liked to think he was hip and down with the kids. "Get wrecked! Ha!"

"Why does Rivalton even exist? Asked Miles after they all giggled at the handyman's hilarious burn – anything that mocked that scummy, nasty town was worth it to them. And like all Swellviewians, the boy hated every inch of the hole just over the border. 

"Rivalton used to be nothing until they struck grease underground and got rich," Ray answered. He didn't really understand the ins and outs of it, and his sweet girl would inevitably explain to him later that it wasn't precisely grease they found, but eh. Close enough. Like Miles, he knew just enough to hate that place. 

"Here! There's a Ken Burns documentary about it..."

"No, no! No, thanks, doof. I can take it from here," said (y/n) before the hero could turn the screen on again. Her hands on his chest were enough to distract Ray from the grumbling kids; he'd forget all about the video if it meant he got to see her acting all intelligent and wise.

"They found vast grease deposits underground. Then, they started selling it to every restaurant in the Quint Cities, of which Swellview is, of course, one."

"You're so smart, sweet girl..." the hero muttered, hugging his wife from behind and resting his chin on her head. Still, as enamoured as Ray was, going all droopy and dopey at the slightest glance, they all couldn't help but sing the jingle – the one taught in all Swellview geography classes. 

"Rivalton and Bordertown, Adjacent City, Neighbourville, and Swellview! The Quint City Towns! Quints! Quints means five!" 

"Exactly! It's just like my incredibly hot wife said!" Ray said as Schwoz dabbed again. That guy had a problem. "And now? You want fried food? You gotta buy Rivalton grease, and you gotta pay Rivalton prices! While the citizens of Rivalton just sit around, getting rich and making Chapa look cheery!"

"Gah! I hate looking cheery!" The girl growled, knowing that tacky, girly cheer dress made her look all sweetand approachable. It made her stomach turn, and her frown deepen. 

"Enough talk!" Miles suddenly yelled, slamming his hand on the table before standing up with his fists clenched. "Let's ride on them Rivaltons!"

His shout was like a battle cry, inspiring energy and ferocity in his friends, who agreed. Those grease-loving dirtbags needed to pay, and if it were up to them, they'd just march over the border and go all out. But, as usual, (y/n) was the voice of reason, shushing them and knowing things didn't work like that in Swellview. They didn't have everyday problems like every other place on earth. 

"Okay, okay, let's all just calm down!" She shouted at her rowdy friends before they caused a stampede. "We can't just...ride on them, or whatever. If you want to fight with Rivalton, it has to be a prank!"

They couldn't argue with that. Suddenly, no one was feeling quite so pumped, lost in thought, as they scrambled to think of an idea good enough to pull off—one that would show everyone in the Quint Cities who was boss. After a few moments, Ray snapped his fingers, looking adorable with his bright, wide eyes as a stroke of genius hit him. 

"Ooh, I got a prank! How about this?" He grinned, and the kids leaned closer to hear his brilliant idea. "We roll up on Rivalton with our lasers and blast every single Rivalton we see—like this!"

"Ayyyyyeeee! Ayyyyyyeeeee! Ayyyyeee!" 

"Raymond!" (y/n) cried in outrage as her doofus pulled out his laser remote and blasted poor Schwoz. Thankfully, it was set to stun, but that didn't mean it was painless; the guy crumpled to the ground as the plasma rained down on him, which was hilarious to Chapa and disturbing to everyone else. 

"Gimme that!" The heroine snatched the remote from him, giving her husband a glare that had him pouting. "That's not a prank, you big doofus! That's just violence!"

"Yeah, but it's funny violence, darlin'!" Ray replied, trying to use those big, puppy-dog eyes and that naughty grin to win her over. It would've worked...if he didn't do it again. "Watch!"

Another few shots hit Schwoz's ass, sending him to the floor when he'd only just managed to find his strength again. Talk about kicking a man when he was down; all Ray received from his sweet girl was an exasperated head shake, thinking he could look as devastatingly handsome as he wanted to. It would not affect her. 

"See? That's hilarious!"

"Oh, doofus..." (y/n) sighed, facepalming as their handyman groaned and moaned on the ground. Her lover looked so happy with himself, practically wagging his imaginary tail like a Labrador as he slid his hand into her jean's back pocket. "Violence won't help here!"

"Okay, how about this?" Said Chapa as she quickly moved on, ignoring where her boss was touching. "We drag me behind the Man Copter, and I shock the entire city!"

"Ayyyyyyyee!"

It really wasn't Schwoz's day. After Ray's assault, he'd managed to get onto his knees, only for Chapa to hit him with a bolt of excruciating lightning. It fried every nerve in his body until he went cross-eyed, so there was no wonder that when he hit the floor this time, he played dead like a possum. 

"Seriously? What did I just say?" 

"Probably something real smart, sweet girl..." Ray cooed, embracing his beloved wife tightly as she rolled her eyes. He was too intoxicated by her perfume and beauty and soft voice to understand anything – except the hilarity of Schwoz getting hit – and she was helpless to escape the bear hug. 

"That's also going to hurt people," said Miles, shaking his head once Chapa relented the vicious zapping. He didn't know what disgusted him more: the relentless violence or how Ray had hands like an octopus. 

"It's going to hurt a lot of people!"

"Which is a bad idea!" They could have argued all day, with the young girl frowning grumpily at her friends as they told her to forget her plans to fry a whole city as Ray stood there like a lovesick idiot. 

The bickering stopped when a sharp, loud whistle from across the room stole their attention. They looked over to the corner of the room, where the kids' lockers were, and strangely enough, it was Mika, leaning back in a chair with a book open on her lap – How to Do an Australian Accent. Well, that didn't make any sense. 

"Two days ago..." She began, her usual shrill, girlish tone replaced by an Aussie one, which explained the book and why she looked so laidback. "I thought of a way to prank that town. You wanna prank Rivalton? You talk to me."

"What'd you have in mind?" Her brother asked, glossing over the Steve Irwin voice since she was their only shot at pulling off the perfect prank. 

"Well..."

Mika smirked, snapping the book shut and standing up to explain her highly elaborate, detailed plan to her friends. She waltzed across the floor, leaving them in suspense for a minute as she sat down at the computer with that devious look on her sweet face. She cracked her knuckles and spilt the beans. 

"We wait until the middle of the night. Then, Miles teleports us all to Hee Haw Purée."

They could see it now, staring off into space as they pictured themselves appearing in a huddle across the border in the knock-off shop. They'd be in uniform, except Schwoz, but he was so small and nifty that no one would notice him should they be stumbled upon. But Mika had planned against that, and nothing in her plan could go wrong – if everything went smoothly.

"Miles replaces all the regular chairs with prank chairs." Her brother cheered quietly at that, knowing he was great at assembling flatpack furniture – particularly those that fell apart at the slightest pressure. 

"Schwoz replaces their water supply with his new concentrated water."

"Isn't that the stuff that has, like, ten times the amount of H-two-O molecules in it compared to regular water?" Asked (y/n), who remembered hearing Schwoz titter and squeal over his new invention after he spent a week in the lab messing around with solutions and test tubes. She didn't really understand why he felt the need to invent, but at least Mika had a purpose for it—a very diabolical purpose. 

"Yep. One sip is like a gallon in your guts!"

"You're so bad! I love it!" The genius smirked, fisting, bumping the giggling irl as he imagined himself sneaking and swapping the water kegs in the café. 

"Bose? You still know how to build a brick wall?" Mika asked, turning that mischievous grin to the clueless boy, but he had some redeeming features. Namely, he was an expert bricklayer, although no one knew exactly why. 

"Sand-lime bricks or fly-ash clay?"

"Sand-lime, of course!" She said it like it was obvious, needing the absolute strength and security of the lime because they were gonna wall off the bathrooms, which, paired with the concentrated water, was a recipe for delicious revenge. Oh yeah, she was that evil. 

"Ooh, the lady has expensive tastes!"

"And I fill the whole room with nitroblast boom sticks!" Ray exclaimed, rubbing his hands together and chuckling wheezily like some cartoon dog from the sixties. 

"Again, that's just violence, doofus," his precious wife replied, lightly thwacking his arm and making a mental note to confiscate any illicit boom sticks smuggled into Hee Haw Purée. She just knew he'd try it, not realising it would blow them all to smithereens, and when she gave him that stern look, the hero just pouted and whined. 

"Awwww, sweet girl..."

"Don't you awwwww, sweet girl me, Raymond."

"Anyway..." Mika interjected, feeling like they were getting slightly off-topic and closer to losing Ray's focus; once he looked into his wife's eyes, that was it. He was gone forever. And he was already pressing apologetic kisses to (y/n)'s forehead, making her giggle when they really should've been listening, the silly lovebirds. 

"Chapa and (y/n/n), you install remote locks on all the entrance doors."

"These are all good pranks, but I wish we could see them happen," said Ray, peeling his attention away from his sweet girl for just a second. He was the type of man to enjoy seeing his success, so he frowned at the girl upon realising that all this would happen without them around. Because really...what idiot would go to Rivalton?

"You know that fourth wall of Hee Haw Purée that we never get close to?" Asked Mika, who was always two steps ahead. 

"Of course I do. We got one in the Man's Nest right over there," the hero answered, gesturing to the far side of the room, which had nothing particularly interesting about it. Nothing weird. Nothing exciting at all. Why would they want to go near it?

"That's where I installed the hidden cameras."

"Ahh..." Ray nodded thoughtfully before smiling at his wife with a similarly evil smirk, an arm draped across her shoulders. 

"Okay, so then what?"

"Then, we pop some popcorn, open some brightly coloured sodas, ask (y/n/n) to bake some of her amazingoatmeal-raisin cookies, and enjoy the swell view of Rivaltons getting pranked." She finished her speech with a victorious smile and crossed arms, nodding at her pleased friends. 

They could get behind that. Anything to see Rivaltons getting pranked like they'd done to Volt. (y/n) was bemused to learn that she had to slave away over a hot stove for the plan, but for her babies, she did not mind. Her cookies were like an addiction to them, and it kept Ray entertained for a while since he liked to lick the spoon. Amongst other things. 

So, ten hours later, they did as Mika said and slipped away to Hee Haw Purée at midnight. The traps were bated, the water was switched, and the doors were locked. Then, they slipped away like they were never there, leaving the cameras running for Schwoz to access in The Nest, meaning the next day at just past lunchtime, the fated hour had come. 

Ray, (y/n), Schwoz, and Danger Force gathered on the couch, hip-to-hip and shoulder-to-shoulder because of the tight squeeze as they waited with bated breath for the first of their victims. The café was packed, and almost uncannily, the Archduke himself was frequenting that day. 

"Okay, who wants cookies?" The heroine asked as she hurried into the main room, holding a steaming plate of baked goods. She was met with cheers from her husband and friends, who made grabby hands towards her like they were starving – unlikely given that they'd microwaved about an acre's worth of corn. 

"Sweet cheese, have you guys got enough popcorn there?"

"We may have made too much..." Bose admitted sheepishly, eyeing the literal mountain of delicious, buttery goodness in front of him, not to mention the giant buckets in Chapa and Miles' arms. The woman couldn't even put the plate down, opting to offer her cookies to whoever wanted one – and that was everyone. 

"Shhhhh! The show is starting!" Ray hissed, and he hooked a beefy arm around his wife's waist, tugging her into his lap. Despite the slight tumble, (y/n) quickly settled against him, taking a soda from Mika as she balanced it and the plate on her knee, also contending with Ray's wandering free hand. 

"Is it, though, doofus?" The heroine asked as she looked at the screen, which showed the various live feeds of Hee Haw Purée. Nothing was happening, given that all the customers were still ordering at the counter, far away from the clandestine pranks. "They kinda look like they're just standing around to me."

"Trust me, sweetheart. Any minute now, they'll be wishing they never pranked us in the first place," Ray reassured her, taking a swig from his bottle as he patted her knee. His bright smile was satisfactory enough for (y/n), who returned the affectionate look and fed him some popcorn, giggling when his lips chased her fingertips.

"Technically, we started it—" Schwoz argued with a slight shrug, not realising he was interrupting the sweet moment between the couple just to be pedantic. 

"Oh, my god, Schwoz! Shut up!" His boss sneered, taking a handful of popcorn and chucking it in his stupid face. 

The genius shut his mouth but rolled his eyes, reaching for another sweet treat when (y/n) sorrowfully offered him the plate – a peace offering for her doofus' temper. Not that it helped. "And stop eating my wife's cookies!"

"I made them for everyone, Raymond," (y/n) scolded him, slapping his ridiculously chiselled pec as he huffed, swiping another cookie for himself before Schwoz could eat them all. How many had he had? Like, two?

"Yeah, but you mostly made them for me, right?" He asked innocently, looking almost confused with the crease between his brows because he deserved them the most. Right?

"Out of every man in the world, this is the one you chose to marry?" Chapa retorted cynically, glancing at the woman with her usual stink eye, but she just giggled. Whilst he looked grumpy at the offensive question, (y/n/n) just sighed dreamily, stroking his slightly stubbly cheek with the back of her hand. 

"Yes." Her reply came instantly, staring at the handsome idiot and all his faults like he hung the stars in the sky. "He's adorable!"

"She's as crazy as he is," Miles said flatly, watching with a bit of repulsion as his teachers grinned at each other, leaning in and kissing like no one else was with them. 

He was all for love and peace and all that hippie stuff, but seriously, seeing Captain Man acting so gooey never got any easier. Turning his attention back to the monitor, the boy sighed as he watched the customers wander back and forth, sipping smoothies and chatting, but not once did they venture near the pranks. It was infuriating. 

"But (y/n/n) is right. They're not doing anything."

"Hang on... 'Scuse me, sweet girl... " muttered Ray, using his only good manners to carefully scooch out from underneath his beloved wife and get a better look at the camera feeds. Leaving her to sip his soda – because hers wasn't nearly as tasty or refreshing – he squinted at the screen, noting that despite Mika's promises, Hee Haw Purée wasn't delivering. 

"Oh, come on! We've been watching this stuff for five whole minutes! When's the pranking gonna start?!"

"Yeah, they've been drinking Schwoz's heavy water in their purée, so why aren't they being, y'know...prankified?" Miles asked, looking at his sister for answers. 

"The pranks should start right..." Mika replied calmly, never glancing up from her new book – Fifty Ways To Say I Told You So - as she sassily flicked to the next page, "about...now."

Ray couldn't plonk his butt back on the sofa quick enough, pulling a quiet, frustrated whine from (y/n) when she had to move out of the way so he could squeeze back in. She swiftly settled in his lap again, munching on half a cookie as everyone leaned in, stuffing their faces and eagerly awaiting the fireworks. 

"To Gideon! My Little Pony!" Archduke Fernando whimpered as he and his fellow Rivaltons raised their purée jars in honour of his sliced hair.

They chinked their glasses together and took a nice, long sip; almost immediately, their bladders felt heavier, becoming full even with that tiny mouthful, but it wasn't an urgent need...yet. 

"I could use a good sit 'cause my buns are barkin'—" said one guy as he yawned, pulling out a chair at one of the tables near the counter. 

He plonked as anyone would, but the moment his butt hit the seat, the legs gave out under him, sending him crashing to the floor in a pile of matchsticks. In the Man's Nest, laughter filled the room as the group cackled and pointed at the screen, loving how the guy now looked like an idiot, and even those in Rivalton found it funny. 

"You tried to sit, but you fell!" Said Fernando, playfully mocking his fallen friend as he lay there, rubbing his butt. "Let me show you how proper sitting is done, Clarence!"

"Oh, this is going to be good..." (y/n) rubbed her hands together, squirming in her doofus' lap as she anticipated the Archduke falling on his ass. It was only when Ray's large hand gripped her hip and squeezed that she had to control her excitement, feeling how his body tensed underneath her at her ministrations. 

"The key is to bend at the knee while maintaining eye—" 

Like Clarence, Fernando didn't stand a chance against Miles' fake chairs, which collapsed under his weight when he leaned against them. He, too, ended up on the floor, dusty and covered in pumpkin purée since he wasn't bright enough to put his drink down before sitting. The only ones laughing now were Captain Man, Miss Danger, Schwoz, and Co. 

"Look at his stupid face!" Ray screeched, pointing at the screen as his wife took away his soda, concerned that he would spill it. Of course, she stole a sip of it first. "Look how stupid he looks—sweet girl, you have your own soda!"

"Yours tastes better, doof..." (y/n) answered innocently, tapping his nails against the bottle. When she fluttered her eyelashes and pecked his cheek, it was too easy to distract the hero from the theft. "Anyway, let's watch His Dukiness..."

"We've been pranked!" Fernando yelled as he scrambled to his feet, looking disgusting with the orange goop dripping down his chest. "Everyone, check your chairs!"

"You heard the man!" Clarence said as he sharply clapped his hands to make his friends jump to it. Rivaltons aren't known for their outstanding intelligence, and those in Hee Haw Purée certainly weren't clever by any means as they ran to all the other chairs in the room. 

"Okay. Bend at the knee..." Those in The Nest couldn't believe it, chuckling from behind their palms as the customers sat on the chairs without thinking—before their Archduke could argue against it. 

"Don't check them by sitting on them!" 

The warning came too late, and it was like a beautiful symphony of crashes and thumps as half a dozen idiots fell on the floor, leaving the café in shambles. At least it was funny for the heroes, who giggled and threw fistfuls of popcorn at each other. Meanwhile, in Rivalton, they went from one disaster to the next as one girl in an exceptionally fetching, stripy shirt and denim skirt felt a sudden urge. 

"I only took a tiny sip, but...I gotta go  bad!"

"Yes, that's why we all call you Small Bladdie Maddie, and—oh!" The Archduke replied, rolling his eyes before the same sharp pain stabbed through his kidneys, feeling like he'd drank fifty smoothies instead of one mouthful. 

"Oh, goodness, to grease! I've got to go, too! Out of my way!"

Cheers filled The Man's Nest as they ran to the bathrooms. The kids clinked their soda bottles as Ray happily pressed a short but sweet kiss to his wife's lips, sharing the victory with her, which only became more delicious when Fernando opened the bathroom door to see a solid brick wall. 

"That's sand-lime brick!" Clarence exclaimed after hearing the man's high-pitched, girly scream, and then, they all screamed, knowing there was no way they'd break through before peeing their pants. Or skirt, in Maddie's case. 

"Come on! We can all go outside and pee!" The girl said urgently, thinking it was gross and unladylike to squat in bushes, but desperation blinded her sense of shame, and they ran for the door. 

"Yeah, but you can't, though!" Mika smirked and pressed a button on her remote control, activating the locks installed by Chapa with (y/n/n)'s guidance. No matter how hard they jiggled the doorknob, it wouldn't budge, creating a pileup of pee-filled Rivaltons clawing to get out. 

"Open the door, you fool!" The Archduke cried, doing a childish dance like it would control his bladder. 

"I can't! It's locked!"

"Ohhhhhh! My bladdie!" Maddie whined as she hunched over and crossed her legs, and her whimpering made Miles and Chapa laugh harder until their cheeks hurt and their faces warmed. 

"Is there a urologist in the house?" Ray joked as (y/n) doubled over, fanning her flaming cheeks and trying to catch her breath as the laughter didn't stop. 

"Oh, doofus—I can't breathe!" She wheezed, a few tears trailing down her pretty face as she leaned back against her husband. He was happy to brush the tears away with his thumbs, smooching her warm skin as his chest rumbled, steadily rising and falling. 

"We're being pranked—with a capital P!"

"Oh, it's happening..." Clarence whimpered as his bladder opened like the heavens, resulting in the ultimate public humiliation as his friends tried to be stronger...and failed. 

"Me too!" Slowly, standing in a line, the Rivaltons felt the first trickles run down their legs, wailing as they peed their pants, first, one by one, then all together. 

"Wait, wait, wait!" Said Mika, shushing her friends' cheers as she quelled her own giggles. "I call that one...Ur-in-trouble!"

"I never thought I'd say this, but I'm afraid of you!" Chapa replied, giving the girl a proud look after finally seeing the darkness within her. 

She wasn't just a goody-two-shoes nerd, but she was actually terrifyingly wicked when it came to pranking, and the others couldn't help but agree as they threw their heads back and howled. 

Popcorn flew across the table as the children started a mini food fight, and for once, (y/n) didn't care about her pristine floors or the fact that she'd be finding pieces of it for the next six months. She allowed them to have fun, joining her doofus and Schwoz as they tipped out the buckets and threw that, too. 

Of course, she still made them help her clean it up, but they could now enjoy themselves. Mika had earned it, but if only she knew what she'd begun...

~The next day~

Standing in the laundry room on the lower levels of the Man's Nest, (y/n) hummed to herself as she steamed and folded her husband's shirts. 

There was something domestic about it that she liked, running the nozzle over the absurdly bright fabric to get out the worst creases before she returned them to their bedroom down the hallway. Her doofus seemed to cycle through shirts like it was going out of fashion, sometimes changing into a new one just for the afternoon, and the woman didn't really know why. 

Ray would never tell her that he loved how her eyes lit up a little differently at each new outfit because each loud shirt had a different feeling, memory, or experience attached to it. Mostly, she just loved how hot he looked in all of them, picturing how his bulky upper body filled out the garments as she slipped them onto hangers before hooking them on a rail. Changing two or three times a day was worth it to feel her hands wander the patterns; the only cost was their excruciatingly high rates bill. 

Still, if (y/n) had to pick a favourite, it was the shirt in her hands now, smiling softly at it as her gaze drank in the bold, Japanese print against fire-truck red. It was old now – he'd had it since before they started dating, and it had faded after one too many times in the washing machine, but she loved it. 

She loved the scent of the fabric softener mixed with his cologne because, of course, Captain Man wore the strong stuff – it just didn't wash out. But she loved him in it the most, steaming the collar with the utmost care and attention since she was the one who'd get to drink him in like a fine wine. It would inevitably end up back on their bedroom floor at the end of the day after he unknowingly seduced her in it, but she kept going, smoothing everything out until it looked perfect. 

Just like how he would look perfect in it. 

'God, I'm sad...' she thought with an inner giggle, wondering when she fell so hard that shirts began to do stuff to her. 

Hanging her favourite to air out, she reached for the next one – a dark, navy number that always struggled to squeeze in Ray's biceps. More thoughts conjured in her mind, remembering how he had worn it only a few days prior and stood in their long mirror as he buttoned it up. Honestly, it was a travesty to hide those abs, and—-

"Herghhhhhhhh!" 

"What in God's name—?" Her whole body jumped as the serenity of her midmorning chores was shattered by an unholy scream. 

Luckily, the steamer was off, preventing any unnecessary need for her super-regeneration, but she frowned at the doorway, wondering if Schwoz was torturing—experimenting—on cats again. The screams kept coming, sounding hoarse and panicked as she rushed out of the room, running toward wherever the shriek came from. 

"Arrrrrregh!"

Following the horrific echoes, (y/n) sprinted to The Nest, running under the metal door just as Danger Force burst through the front one. What they saw as they met in the middle was unsettling. 

"Eerrrrr! Ya-ahh! Come on!" Their equally disturbed expressions clashed as their eyes settled on Ray, who had been told to keep himself occupied whilst his sweet girl did all the boring stuff that he thought magical pixies sorted in the middle of the night. 

Yet, when (y/n) told him to run along and play, she didn't mean this. Her mouth dropped open as she watched him yell and whine, hands clutching his head as he writhed near and on the couch like a worm in bleach. 

"Ray?" Chapa asked tentatively, not wanting to know what was going on as he twisted his fingers in his hair, yanking it so hard that his cheeks and temples turned red. He didn't even look up at her, panting hard as hyperventilation began to set in, sending the usually composed hero into a meltdown. 

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, doofus..." (y/n) said calmly as she dashed to his side, using her most soothing tone as if she were trying to corral a spooked animal. 

Hearing her voice was enough to break through whatever panic had gripped her doofus, and he glanced up at her with petrified, red-rimmed eyes. Slowly, she held her hands out, not even questioning why his hands stayed on his head, as she gently touched his chest and smiled. 

"It's okay, doofus—just breathe 'cause you're with me, and it's all gonna be okay..." she whispered, cupping his cheek. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, sweet girl..." Ray said through a whimper, his bottom lip wobbling as she soothed him. The cool metal of her wedding rings on his face was enough to ground him again, and he longed to return the loving touch, but he couldn't—he might never again. And that just made him want to wail harder. 

"Y-you said you were going to be busy for a while, so I was doing my normal hair care routine, right?" She nodded, glad that she missed that for one day because there was washing hair and then there was Ray washing hair. It was like a military routine. 

"Pre-soak, soak, free-trade, organic, low-carb shampoo, pre-rinse, rinse, conditioner, argon oil, mountain water, rinse, air dry, towel dry, mountain air dry—"

"Okay, okay, yeah, yeah, yeah, we get it!" Mika interjected, having stopped listening when he got to the third step. Three steps too many. 

"And, then—and then, I went to apply a teaspoon of activated cashew butter to my scalp when I realised that someone had replaced it with fast-locking epoxy glue!" He whined, tugging on his hair again, but like with the last million times he'd tried it, there was no removing his hands. 

"So, you can't get your hands out?" Bose asked in a rare moment of insight. Although he didn't need to be a genius to know that glue and hair didn't mix, neither did the rest of Danger Force need (y/n) to tell them that his hair was Ray's fourth favourite part of himself. 

"No!" Ray sneered, glaring at the boy for asking the dumb question. Would he sit there looking like a Village People reject if he could lower his arms?

"Okay, hold still! Hold still!" Mika said as she circled her teacher and grabbed his arm, with Chapa stomping over the couch to get the other. (y/n) felt apprehensive, wincing when they held his wrists, ready to yank as hard as they could—even if it meant taking clumps of his beautiful floof with them. 

"Not like this! Not like this!"

"Guys, I don't think that's going to work..." she told the girls carefully, cringing as her beloved idiot screeched in pain. They pulled and pulled, all their weight to try and prise his fingers from his scalp, but whoever replaced the butter knew what they were doing. 

"Mika! Chapa! Stop, you're hurting him!" Waving her hands, she forced them to scatter, not liking all the shouting, how her doofus was near to tears, or how they hadn't loosened the glue. "Epoxy is stronger than normal glue—and permanent! Without a solvent, we'll never get his hands out!"

"I guess you're gonna have to shave your head, then," said Miles as he sipped on a soda, nonchalant even when his mentor looked up with a stern glare for suggesting the unthinkable. 

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," he replied darkly, pointing his foot at him as the girls let go. 

He couldn't bear to lose his hair, knowing it made up for twenty per cent of his handsomeness, and it was one of his wife's favourite things about him. He liked it because she liked it, so he tried to pull his hands free again, also in vain. 

"Doofus, it's not going to work..." (y/n) told him gently, rubbing his shoulders as she ignored his squeals of gibberish. Even if she found a chemical to dissolve the epoxy, she doubted his hair would be as luscious and floofy as before. She hated to think it, too, but, ultimately, there was only one thing for it.

"It has to, sweet girl! It has to! I'm not going bald!"

"Well..." She said slowly, gulping at the idea in her head. "There's only one other thing you can do."

"What's that?" He asked, blinking at her wide-eyed, hoping and praying she'd say something that meant he could keep his beautiful locks. Judging by her wobbly smile, that was wishful thinking, and he felt his stomach swoop low as she nervously played with her fingers.

"A wig?"

~

"I am not happy about this."

Ray glared at the children, deeming them the ringleaders for the monstrosity that now resided on his head. In fairness, the offending article effectively hid his now patchy quiff – an unfortunate result after his wife inspected his hair, finding the glue would never come out. 

Looking at him, you wouldn't think anything was wrong, given that the wig they'd found was one of those super realistic, professional types that they wore on movie sets and stuff. (y/n), to her credit, applied it perfectly, offering him a mirror and a watery smile once it was in place, and she assured him that it wasn't half bad. Oh, how Ray begged to differ. 

Schwoz and Danger Force found it hilarious, but it was no laughing matter in his eyes – more like an itchy, ill-fitting eyesore that did not compliment his skin tone. Mika said it was the best of a bad bunch – some leftovers she found in a jumble box in a dusty, old room. Yet, when he saw his reflection, the hero considered rocking his ruined haircut, even with all the missing clumps. 

He loved his brown, floofy locks; it was why he was so meticulous in their upkeep. Maybe things would've been different in another life, but right then, in the Man's Nest, he knew he looked ridiculous. He knew choosing a Kid Danger-esque blond wig was a mistake. 

"It's not that bad." Schwoz smiled kindly, trying to make a dire situation bearable, but Ray knew it was a lie. He could see how he smothered his laughter. 

"Yes. Yes, it is," he replied with gritted teeth as he stood before his friends in the main room, feeling self-conscious. It was a miracle he wanted to be in daylight, thinking the damn thing looked worse when the sun hit it, no matter what they said. 

"It's really not..." Mika said tentatively, twiddling her thumbs as she glanced at the only person whose opinion actually mattered. "Right, (y/n/n)?"

Ray listened to no one; he only cared about what his beloved wife had to say, and to the abject horror that settled in his stomach, she could barely look at him without grimacing. 

"Eh..." She shrugged, raising her lips in a wobbly smile as her eyes roamed his body from toe to eye. 

She loved everything she saw, sighing appreciatively at how his tracksuit top clung to his muscles, sculpting them perfectly. His face was still handsome and kissable, but her nose wrinkled when she saw the wig. 

"See?!" The hero spluttered, sniffling a little at the rejection, and his eyes grew misty. "...My wife doesn't love me anymore!"

"I never said that!" (y/n) argued, clasping a hand over her clavicle at such a suggestion. Sure, she regretted agreeing to fix the wig in place, but it wasn't that bad. 

"But you looked it, sweet girl!" He replied, whimpering and scrubbing the heel of his hairy palm into his eye to stem any tears. If he was going to cry – and if she really found him that hideous, he would – he'd do it alone, wherever the kids couldn't mock him. "Now, every time you look at me, you look like you're gonna hurl!"

"Well..." His sweet girl said, picking her words carefully as she rose from the couch. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again, you do not suit being blond."

"I think I just heard my heart break..." Ray clutched at his T-shirt as pain bloomed through his chest – just at the mere thought of his soulmate finding him...ugly. 

But (y/n) quickly comforted him, flashing a warm smile as she curled her arms around his neck, her nails playing with the wig's edge on his nape. Instantly, his hands found her waist, still sniffing and pouting, but the man practically purred under her touch, more so when she stood on her tippiest toes and kissed his cheek. 

"But don't be a doofus all your life, Raymond. I still love you!"

"You promise?" He muttered, blinking those big, round eyes as she giggled. 

"Of course, my adorable idiot. I might even get used to it, eventually..." (y/n) grinned, silently thinking she'd need a few millennia to accept her husband as blond. She much preferred his usual chocolate floof, but she couldn't stand seeing him so sad, nor was she so shallow. 

"Well, in that case, I still love you, too..." Ray grinned, slumping in her embrace as he leaned down and kissed her honeyed lips. He badly needed her sweetness, still unhappy with the temporary solution while his hair grew. 

"Hey..." Bose's innocent voice sounded, flooding the hero's body with tension again when he realised theywere still all sitting there—the miscreants.

Without going for nearly as long as he wanted to, he pulled away from the kiss and frowned at the boy, lamenting how his pretty girl whined and pouted. 

"Why do you have a Kid Danger wig?"

"Remember that time Captain Man, Miss Danger, and Kid Danger fought The Barber, and Henry lost all of his hair?" Schwoz asked, ignoring the smoochy-smoochy happening beside him when (y/n) chased her doofus' lips again. 

"Um, no..." answered Mika awkwardly, and she was the nerd who studied all of the heroes' previous fights. She thought it would make her a better fighter, and, having memorised them all, she couldn't remember a single instance where the kid went bald. 

"Exactly! Because I made this wig!" The genius grinned, gesturing to his handiwork as Ray pecked his wife's lips a final time before pulling away.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha—we fooled the whole town! Moving on..." he said flatly, rolling his eyes and squeezing his sweet girl's hip for dear life. "Bet you're all wondering why Schwoz, my incredibly hot wife, and I called you all here today."

"It's a school day."

"And we were already here," Miles and Chapa answered dryly since they'd not moved after the lady whisked her doofus away to sort out his sticky problem. But the last thing Ray wanted to hear was sass, standing straighter as his sweet girl leaned closer into his space.

"We called you here because we realised two things," (y/n) said, having discussed the whole thing with him and Schwoz whilst fitting the dumb wig, and it was safe to say that her husband wanted answers. 

"One! This hair prank is clearly the work of Rivalton."

"Well, yeah, obviously!"

"Duh!" The kids agreed, knowing those idiots were out for metaphorical blood after the farce in Hee Haw Purée, with Archduke Fernando declaring war on Swellview much like they did with his stink town. 

"But we also believe that since the only people who access to my hair products are here in this room..." Ray continued, pacing back and forth as his students frowned, wondering why he sounded like that... "That means that one of you is pranking to Rivalton."

Bose gasped loudly as the rest of Danger Force looked at each other and their boss in horror. They jumped apart, suddenly not knowing who to trust, but it was also hurtful, knowing Ray didn't trust them, either. 

"For the record, I think this is dumb," (y/n) added, and she ignored her doofus' whine as she smiled at the kids. She never doubted any of them – maybe that was blindingly naïve – but it was dumb to attack your own team, and none of them, not even Chapa, would wound Ray so grievously. 

"Doesn't matter, sweet girl. I know exactly who it is! Schwoz?" He never broke eye contact with the children, who sat on the edge of the couch in suspense as he reached for a file being held by Schwoz. 

(y/n) cringed when she saw his outstretched hand, not needing a reminder that she still needed to find that solvent. Whilst most of his hair survived under the wig, the areas where his fingers bonded to his hair were unsalvageable, meaning the woman had no choice but to cut it away at the root. It left his hands hideously hairy, which was fine...as long as he didn't touch her bare skin or let her see it. 

"Why would one of us be pranking for Rivalton?" Asked Chapa as her teacher took the file. 

"Because..." Ray replied gravely, pointing an accusatory finger, "One of you was born there!"

"In Rivalton?" Bose spat, not for sure that it wasn't him. Or at least he didn't think it was, looking warily at his friends on either side of him. 

"The same!"

"No way!" Said Chapa with a slight scoff, thinking she'd be able to tell if there was a traitor amongst them. 

"I got the proof right here!" But Ray just flashed her the case file in all its yellowish glory. It had confidentialsplashed across the front in bold, black lettering, practically begging to spill its secrets as the hero waved it around. 

"I know who the dirty Rivalton is, but I will give them a chance to come clean. And, if they don't...you're all fired!"

"Doofus!" (y/n) gasped – that was not what they'd discussed. She knew he was playing the bad right now, but just seeing her babies squirm was enough to make her nervous, and she didn't like pointing the finger, either. 

Her wide-eyed gaze didn't deter him, but just when she was about to follow it up with a stern word, Miles butted in, forsaking all chivalry and camaraderie without missing a beat. 

"Mika was born in Rivalton!"

"Miles!" The girl squealed, snapping to look at her brother after he ratted her out like that. She snarled at him, not that he cared, whilst the others stared at her in shock and disgust like they'd found a snake in the grass. And they had. 

"Wow, Miles. I think we all just lost a little bit of respect for you there," said (y/n), who felt like she had whiplash from how brazenly he'd revealed the secret – about his own sister, no less. 

"I'm sorry, but he said he was gonna fire everyone, and Bose really needs the health insurance for his foot thing!" 

"Miles! Stop revealing people's secrets!" The boy shouted, suddenly feeling just as self-conscious when everyone glanced at his foot. 

They didn't know precisely what he had going on down there, but the fact they knew was bad enough—nearly as bad as one of their own being from filthy Rivalton. There was no escaping that for Mika as all attention turned back to her. 

"Wait a minute. I thought you two were twins..." said Schwoz, pointing at the siblings, who just glared at each other now. 

"We are." Mika nodded sourly, although she severely wished otherwise.

"So, Miles was born in Rivalton, too?!"

"No, I was not!" The boy replied indignantly, giving Chapa a stern glare for even suggesting such a heinous thing. 

"Okay!" Mika interrupted them, not liking how everyone was at each others' throats. It wasn't that big of a deal – a very simple story – and nowhere near as horrific as they thought it to be. "I'll tell you what happened���"

"Our mom was verrrrry pregnant!"

"Okay, you tell them what happened." She rolled her eyes as her brother began the tale, stealing her thunder. She sat there glumly as Miles smirked, confident that he wasn't the one in the wrong. 

"And our dad was verrrrrrrry hungry!" He told them, and they had to imagine most of the details. It was the early two-thousands, back when fashion was terrible, but life was good, and Mrs Macklin was ready to pop. Seriously, carrying twins was no joke. 

"Our mom was pregnant and sick of it."

"But why were they in Rivalton?" Asked (y/n), frowning at the thought of such a heavily pregnant woman wanting to travel so far, particularly there. God knows what diseases they had across the border. 

"Well, Hee Haw Purée had this special smoothie that was supposed to make women go into labour," Miles replied, which didn't sound weird at all. The heroine shared a puzzled look with her doofus, internally cringing when she saw the wig again, but Ray was deep in thought, wondering when the story would get interesting. 

"Did it work?" Bose asked, leaning closer to his friend beside him. 

"Oh, yeah! She drank the smoothie, and then, the babies were coming!"

"Sweet cheese, what did they put in it?" (y/n) grimaced, wrinkling her nose at the thought, and she snuggled closer to her doofus. She only hoped she never had twins, particularly if she had to drink something from Rivalton. 

"Anyway, my mom told our dad that they had to go, but he had to finish his Belly Buster smoothie first," Miles continued, still remembering the look of pride on his dad's face when he retold the story every so often. His mom didn't share the sentiment, recalling it with a frown that suggested they were lucky to be still married. 

"See, if he finished the whole thing, they could eat for free."

"His wife was in labour, and he was worried about a free smoothie?" The heroine frowned, sharing a confused look with Chapa since she couldn't comprehend it, either. "Why didn't he just pay for it?"

"He left his wallet at home."

"What an idiot! Why not?" The girl laughed, suddenly understanding the moronic enigma that was Herman Macklin, but all the twins did was shrug. It was their dad to a tee; if anyone could finish a giant tank of purée, it was him. 

"Confidence!" Miles grinned despite Chapa's signature scowl. "Anyway, my mom told him to drink as fast as he could 'cause she didn't want her babies to be born in a disgusting town like Rivalton."

"God, I love your mom!" Ray exclaimed, clapping his hands at the mutual hatred between him and the woman, only to earn a few disturbed glances from around the room. 

The strongest came from his wife, whose glare pierced him as she harshly nudged his elbows. He smiled at her sheepishly, happiness turning awkward when his sweet girl pouted, and the hero rushed to smooth it over as he pulled her closer by the waist. 

"Respectfully."

"So..." said Chapa, ignoring Ray's PDA as he kissed his beloved wife's temple."Did your dad finish the purée?"

"An hour later." The boy nodded, describing how his dad struggled to drink that much blended fruit and vegetables, forcing it down gulp by gulp as his mom waited in the corner. 

As all the women rallied around her, the men in the café supported his dad, cheering him on until he tipped the last of that deep, purple juice down his throat. If they went to Hee Haw Purée again and looked around – not that any sane person wanted to – they'd find the Belly Buster Hall of Fame, and Herman's picture was still there. But at what cost?

"By the time they actually left, it was too late. My mom drove as fast as she could, but Mika was born in the car on the Rivalton side of the Jandy River."

"Where was your dad?" Schwoz asked with a frown, noting that usually, a good husband helps his wife when she's at her most vulnerable. Driving to the hospital was the easiest part, yet he wasn't there.

"He was in the back seat with a stomachache," said Mika dryly, still unimpressed twelve years later that her father's gluttony made her a social pariah.

"So, where were you born?" Bose asked Miles, who looked remarkably less tense than his sister.

"Also in the car—on the Swellview side of the Jandy River," he replied, making his friends sigh in relief because it all made sense now. Mostly. How their mom managed to drive while giving birth was still a mystery. "I'm a proud son of Swellview!"

"Yeah, unlike your sister," Ray sneered, air-quoting as he glared at Mika, who just rolled her eyes at his hostility. 

"I'm still his sister!"

"Yeah, who was born in Rivalton!" The hero argued, spitting the word out as she stood up, leaving only (y/n) in the middle to act as a referee between them. 

"Look, I didn't prank your stupid haircare products!" Mika said coldly, and Ray gasped, clasping his hand over his heart at the insult. 

"What did you just call them?"

"If anything, I would've gone for your anti-ageing cream." She smirked at him as her friends gasped, chuckling at the sick burn and how it made the hero's ears turn red, particularly since he didn't want everyone to know how he fought for his youth. His face hardened, trying to side-step his sweet girl as she spread her arms to stop them from fighting. 

"Okay, how about we all calm—"

"I cast thee out!" 

"Down." (y/n) gulped when Ray pointed a stern finger over her head, suddenly becoming a Middle Ages peasant with his speech. She didn't believe he would do that, feeling her heart hurt when the girl's face fell a little, thinking they were just bantering and arguing; she didn't actually mean any harm. 

"Come on, Ray..." She said softly and seriously, glancing at the woman for help, but she could barely get a word in before her husband ran toward the door. 

"I—CAST—THEE—OUT!" He declared, pointing at the path down the mountain as Mika tried not to let everyone see how the tears sprang in her eyes. 

She'd hit a nerve, clearly; it was one thing to openly mock the man in front of those he called his family, especially when she revealed to his wife that he may have invested in a night cream. Yet, he couldn't trust a traitor – he'd been there and done that, and it just ended with others getting hurt. 

"Are you serious?" Mika asked, her body frozen yet trembling as the others stood open-mouthed and wide-eyed beside the couch. 

"You are out of Danger Force!" Ray yelled, not wanting to hear another word or excuse from her lying mouth. "Until this prank war is over, you shall not step foot in the Man's Nest!"

"Doofus, let's talk about this before we do anything stupid!" (y/n) hissed, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder as she tried to make the hero see a little reason despite his fury. "You can't help where you're born!"

"You know what, (y/n/n)? It's fine," replied Mika, shaking the gentle touch from her shoulder before its tenderness made her cry. It wasn't fine, stomping over to the tube and ignoring the sting of his suspicions; they weren't even true. 

"Ray, are you seriously kicking her out of Danger Force?" Bose asked tentatively, eyeing (y/n) too as she shook her head, reaching and wishing for Mika to come back. 

"Yes," Ray answered firmly. He couldn't look anyone in the eye, preferring to glare at the ground like it had done something wrong, and it was only when the traitor called to him that he looked up, as menacing as ever. 

"Hey! What's in the envelope? How did you know I was born in Rivalton?" Mika asked suspiciously, but Ray just shrugged.

"I didn't know..." he said quietly, peeling the envelope open as he plucked the document from inside, revealing a simple piece of paper with a large font, saying precisely the words he spoke. "You just told me."

All the girl could do was scoff and shake her head as he childishly dabbed, pleased with himself at the little trick. She should've taken Chapa's old advice: never admit to anything because she was innocent until they said otherwise. The tube fell around her, and she didn't hang around, not even saying goodbye to her friends or brother before she left. Forever, it seemed. 

Silence hung in the air as no one knew what to say. Ray had his hands on his hips, swallowing thickly and licking his dry lips as the argument left him reeling, reminding him of another instance when his sidekick left. This didn't break his heart in the same way, but it still stung, particularly when he glanced to his right and saw the sharp gaze of his aghast wife. 

"What?" He asked quietly, and (y/n) could only breathe out a quick, humourless laugh. 

"What do you mean, what?" She asked, shaking her head because - not for the first time, but certainly, for the first time in a while – she couldn't work out what he was thinking. "What the hell was all that about?"

"You were there. You watched it." Ray shrugged, feeling like a million eyes were on him, but only hers mattered. He didn't need to look at her to know she was mad, or worse, disappointed, but he wasn't one to return on his word. He was too proud for that. 

"I watched an utter shit-show," (y/n) replied harshly, sensing how Bose flinched behind her when she raised her voice, and she knew she'd apologise later. But right now, she was angry, wishing she could run after Mika and tell her it was all right, but it wasn't. 

"We're a team, Ray. We stick together."

"Mika betrayed us. She's from Rivalton—it's obvious she pranked for them!" He said, gesturing to nothing as he repeated the mantra in his head. It was the only thing that made sense; she was their enemy in this war, and he sent her away. If anything, he'd done everyone a favour, or so he kept telling himself. 

"I'm not talking about her," (y/n) said coldly, her face set in stone, but her body trembled, feeling the adrenaline and panic as she glared at him, and he glared at her – all the warmth and joy from earlier dying away. "You said you were gonna talk to the kids, not fire one of them!"

"Yeah, well, maybe I changed my mind!" He yelled back, squeezing his fists and digging his nails into his palms to try and control his temper. He hated how red her eyes looked, how she looked distraught, and it was all aimed at him. But he was right, brimming with frustration that no one else seemed to understand. 

"You can't make that decision without talking about it with me first!" 

"You always tell me no!" He snapped, realising he'd taken a step closer to her and she'd done the same. 

They were nearly toe-to-toe, with the kids and Schwoz standing nervously in the background, wanting to run away, but they couldn't. It was like watching something unnatural, having never seen an argument between them, but Henry said they were explosive, like pouring gasoline on a fire. And no one could stop them but themselves. 

"For good reason!" (y/n) shouted, hugging her body as she fought the urge to pound his stupid, muscly body – as if knocking some reason into him would work. "To stop you from making poor choices like this!"

"I'm in charge here, sweetheart." His voice dipped lower, and suddenly, she was very aware of who towered over her. Captain Man's hard, steely gaze could petrify anyone, but it just made her want to yell more, shaking her head in disbelief when large, warm hands settled on her shoulders. Only, the familiar touch didn't soothe her like it usually did. 

"Stop treating me like an idiot 'cause I know what's best for all of us. Despite what you think, I have some sense."

"It's better to be without sense than misplace it the way you do," the heroine said quietly, roughly jerking her body away from his. She closed her eyes and released a shuddered breath, fighting back tears of sadness, frustration and anger as the room fell silent once more. 

The tension was palpable, with all eyes on her as she gave him a final, bitter glance before turning away, breathing a defeated sigh. Perhaps it was her heart or his that she heard crack – maybe both – as her footsteps echoed on the tiles, walking away from her husband with cruel, venomous words sitting on the tip of her tongue. At least her sense was knowing when to give up, despite a lot of fight left in her. 

"Where are you going?" Ray called out to her, sounding emotionless but also a little lost.

His longing eyes never left her as she walked away, itching to run after her because it was his job to make her feel better, but his pride said no. He doubted she wanted him anywhere near her, anyway. 

"Anywhere but here, or I might punch you in your perfect teeth," she replied, not even looking at him as she numbly headed for the metal door. 

The kids watched her go, too, calling out until she was gone, heading for the sanctuary of their shared bedroom. She only hoped Ray stayed away whilst she cooled down. They looked at their disgraced hero, shaking their heads in disappointment, but he remained stoic, not seeing why he should explain himself to them when the only person who mattered had already left. 

"Not cool, dude," Miles said quietly, knowing he'd be the one to go home to his heartbroken sister. 

"Yeah, Mika's a dirty Rivalton, but she was our best pranker," Chapa added, Bose nodding in agreement despite how the hero stared blankly out of the window. 

"And she was our friend. Like (y/n), who I told about my foot thing, and it never got out!"

"Because of her, I had to shave my hair, and I argued with my wife!" Ray growled, gesturing to the stupid blond wig and kicking the ground like a petulant child. He felt lonely and weepy without his sweet girl to back him up, and part of him expected her to walk back through the door. 

"We can't trust her! But now, thanks to me, she's completely out of the way, and we don't have to worry about her anymore at all."

"No..." Schwoz muttered as he sat dejectedly on the steps leading to the tube. He rubbed his forehead tiredly before meeting the hero's eye. 

"But you need to worry about what you're gonna say to (y/n)." And for once, Ray didn't have an answer for the genius. He didn't even smack him or shoot him in the ass, merely standing there with a pale face and guilty look. 

Unfortunately for Ray, Schwoz was right. He had no idea how he would fix it all, but he had to. He couldn't go on without his sweet girl.

[9leaguesofmirrors]

On With The Show! (a Jed Hunter x reader fanfic)

What's this? Something a little different?

I don't usually write x reader fics, but I had a super cute idea for one featuring Jed Hunter and I had to get it out of my system. Since it's not explicitly romantic, it feels more like a "Jed Hunter AND reader fic". I really hope you guys enjoy it!

NOTE: This story features a non-cis reader, I've done my best to make it as unspecific as possible (so it can be enjoyed by people that use any pronouns), so hopefully it turned out OK

As soon as the cast list gets sent to you, your heart goes heavy. It's not the fact that you've lost motivation to be part of the production, working with renowned director Jed Hunter is a pretty big deal, it's the character he'd given you

Nobody's to blame. You're extremely selective about who you talk about your transition to; Royston Vasey isn't exactly known for being the most tolerant of places. Not that Jed seems like that sort of person, but you can never be too sure. However, you trust your gut and send an email asking if you could speak to him in person

A few hours later, you receive a response:

Hello!

Hope you're taking care of yourself on this chilly day. I have a meeting tomorrow, are you free on Friday at 12pm? If not, we can figure something else out

Wrap up warm!

J.H. 😊

You roll your eyes fondly at the Mum energy that radiates from his email, it might be a little corny but it's nice that he cares. You send an email confirming the meeting and go about the rest of your day

*********************************************

Jed is waiting in the same room you held your audition, sat backwards on his chair as usual. He gets up instantly and goes over to greet you, taking your hand and shaking it with a smile

"Hello hello, good to see you!" He gestured to a chair beside his own and sits down "Glad you made your way here safely."

"Other than witnessing about 5 different people bleeding from their noses, yeah I got here alright." You say as you sit down

"There seems to be a bloody-nose-epidemic, must be nice for vampires!"

It was a silly joke, but you can't help but feel a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. However, the jokes would have to wait, at least for now

"I guess I should tell you why I emailed."

"I assume it's not because you missed me!" Jed laughed a little "Take your time!"

"Well," you explain "it's about the film. I'm sorry, but I can't do it."

The way Jed's face fell a little didn't feel good, he seemed genuinely downhearted to lose you. Nonetheless, he remained professional

"That's a shame, but I understand. Thanks for letting me know ahead of time." He opened his mouth to speak, then put his finger to his lips thoughtfully "If you don't mind, is there any specific reason? If not, that's kewl, but if it's something that happened during the audition process-"

"Oh god no!" You say quickly "The process was fine, it's not that. It's the character."

Right, now I sound like an entitled twat

"Not that it's bad!" You explain "It's..." Come on, get it out "the gender."

You could see Jed trying to work out what you meant. At first, it's a little odd that it's taking him so long to get it, but that's probably what happens when you grow up in Royston Vasey. He didn't seem digusted, just very confused

"Does it not fit the character? I didn't give it much thought, but-"

"Jed, I'm transitioning. Y'know, gender reassignment?"

Finally, the penny seemed to drop and he instantly put his hand to his mouth in surprise

"Oh my god!" He jumps up and starts pacing around the room, looking for something "I'm so sorry, yes! I get it now, let me just..." after a bit of rummaging in a drawer, he found his trusty clipboard

Once he sits down again, you manage to catch a glimpse of the paper clipped to the board - it's your information from the audition. You watch as he pulls a pen out of his pocket and scribbles out parts of it before handing the paper and pen to you

"If you could fill that in for me, that'd be kewl."

"I told you, I can't play the character-"

"And, as director, I have the power to pull a few strings!" He speaks with pride, the charismatic glee on his face feels oddly comforting "We may need switch the script around a little, but Jeremy and I can talk about that."

The last thing you want is to make things difficult, but this was also a huge opportunity. Being in a Hunter film is a big thing, especially in a small town like this. Plus, Jed's known for being very good to work with, and it's hard to find respectful directors these days

And, technically, he was the one that suggested rewriting the character for you. Part of you doubts how easy it'll be, but the chance has to be there

You take the clipboard and pen, seeing the scribbled out sections where your name and pronouns could go

"You've scribbled out my surname."

"Well yeah, so you can write your name in. The one you want me to use."

"I haven't changed my surname," you say, amused by the gesture "I'm not getting married!"

"Perhaps another day then." Jed laughs "If that's what you're planning, of course."

You smile and fill in the form, but your eyes are drawn to the comments he wrote during your audition. Despite the scrawled handwriting, you manage to make out a few of the sentences:

WOW!

So much natural talent

Easy to work with, lights up the room

"Someone has a wandering eye," Jed teases, taking the clipboard back "that's confidential!"

"Don't act like you wouldn't do the same!"

"OK, you got me there." He holds up his hands "But all my feedback for you was positive."

"I just don't want to cause problems on my first project with you. I guess I'm trying not to make a bad impression."

Jed gets up and goes over to stand beside you, placing his hand on the back of your chair. There's an earnesty in his face, relaxed and soft

"Being a director isn't just about creating a piece," he explains "it's my job to make sure everyone's happy. Cast, crew, if something's not right, people should feel comfortable coming to me for support." He moves to crouch in front of you "Don't feel like you can't talk to me or that you're too much, you're allowed to ask for help."

It's reassuring to hear that, and you can tell Jed means every word. And, as you both stand and shake each other's hands something tells you this is the beginning of a fantastic partnership

A/N: So... there it is. This was entirely out of my comfort zone, but I don't think it turned out too bad - let me know what you think!

[sunstone-smiles]

I would like to request Apollo and Athena from Ace Attorney getting into a tickle fight, please. Playfulness between them is very much encouraged! :)

A/N: Playfulness you say? Luckily for you, playfulness is my middle name (Lol). My Ace Attorney babies! Oh, how I’ve missed them! I’ve had this concept in my notes for a bit and I thought, what better characters to use a theater related concept than with the “theatrical” lawyers of Apollo and Athena! So, I hope you enjoy and thank you for your patience!

Improv Activity

Series: Ace Attorney

Characters: Apollo Justice and Athena Cykes

Word count: 1,352

Summary: When Athena and Apollo are working together in an improvisation activity, an unexpected, yet playful, turn occurs in the scene. Enjoy!

—

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Apollo asks with crossed arms. He watches Athena carry a fold out chair towards the middle of the Wright Anything Agency Office's living room. 

Athena places the chair down. She wears casual attire of a yellow t-shirt and sweatpants during their off time. “Improvisation, also known as improv, is a crucial skill in theater if something doesn’t go as planned.”

“But we’re not doing theater, we’re attorneys that go into court.” Like Athena, Apollo also wears comfy clothes of a red t-shirt and sweatpants.

“Exactly. And even in court, things might not go our way, so we have to be able to think on our feet to get our case back on track, hence the improv exercises.” Athena points to the seat. “Now sit in the chair.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, it’s part of the activity.” Athena grabs him by the shoulders and moves him towards the chair. “Now sit,” Athena shoves him down into the plastic seat.

“Fine…” Apollo grumbles with his arms still crossed.

“Now, this exercise is actually a team building one. Put your hands behind your back and I’ll be behind you with my own arms sticking out to replace yours, so you’ll be speaking while I do hand gestures that would match what you’re saying. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Apollo repositions his arms to rest at the back of the chair. 

“Good.” Athena then kneels down behind him and sticks her arms under his, creating the silly illusion of Apollo’s body connected to Athena’s hands. She peeks out from behind his shoulder. “For the first scene, act as if you were an elementary school teacher. Aaaaand go!”

Apollo rolls his eyes, but he eventually goes along with the game. “Hello everyone, welcome to class,”  the lawyer in red says with a tone lacking enthusiasm. “Today, we’re going to do something fun…”

Athena huffs. She peeks her head out from around his shoulder again.  “It doesn’t sound very fun when you say it like that.”

“I’m just doing what you told me too,” Apollo back sasses her. “So now class…” Apollo returns to his halfhearted monologue. Athena growls under her breath as she moves her hands to his words. Her robotic necklace, named Widget, contorts its digital face and glows red with anger. 

Clearly, Apollo isn’t taking the improv activity seriously. Perhaps Athena needs to give him a little push in the right direction so he can become more engaged in the activity.

Unaware of what Athena has in mind, Apollo keeps on acting as if he was talking to a class. “We’re going to have a lot of laughs today. Ha ha—HA! Hehehey!” Apollo suddenly yelps when Athena uses the hands she’s supposed to be lecturing the “class” with to instead tickle Apollo from behind. He wriggles in the seat with loud giggles exploding from his chest and tugs his arms out from behind the chair to use them as a defense mechanism against Athena’s attack. The female lawyer stands for leverage with her hands still scribbling at her friend’s sides, keeping Apollo glued to the chair. 

“See how fun this can be, class?” Athena says to her imaginary audience while also teasing Apollo in the process. 

“Whahahahat pahahart of the clahahahass is thihihihis?!” Apollo giggles while trying to twist his way out of the chair. With a forceful tug, he loses his balance and topples onto the ground. While Apollo rolls over to his back, Athena runs from behind the chair and pounces to her knees by Apollo’s sides. She dives her fingers back into action, making Apollo jump when her fingers plunge into his belly.

“Athenahahaha! Nohohoho!” the lawyer squirms and swings his arms to try and push Athena away through his bubbly laughter.

Athena smirks as she scribbles her fingers around Apollo’s tummy. “First rule of improv, Apollo! Never say no and always go with whatever happens!”

“Ohoho yeheheah? Thehehen go alohohohong with thihihihis!” Apollo launches his hands forward into Athena’s ribs. She shrieks like a little bird and immediately wraps her arms around herself as she bursts into giggles of her own. She twists her torso in an attempt to shield herself from the tickles, allowing Apollo to sit up and turn the tables on her as he now scribbles into her ribs from behind. Around her neck, Widget changes from its neutral blue to glowing green with happiness.

“Scene change!” Apollo grins over Athena’s shoulder. “There’s now a monster loose in the forest and it feasts on laughter!” the lawyer in red turns his fingers into wiggling claws and squeezes down to her sides. Athena shrieks again and tries to squirm her way out of his grasp. Her orange side ponytail whips around alongside her as she shakes her head with mirth.

“Hahaha! I've been cahahahaptured by the mohohohohonster!” Athena plays along. “Buhuhuhut I wohohon't go dohohown withohohout a fihihihhight!” 

Athena wriggles in Apollo’s hold, eventually finding leeway to nudge him backwards with her elbow. Quick to react, Athena spins around and lunges at Apollo’s ribs, causing the male lawyer to let out a roar of laughter. Apollo squirms in his spot like a fish on a hook to avoid her counter attack, until he flops onto his side, then flat on his stomach. 

In his attempts to crawl away, Athena swiftly takes advantage of the situation and catches his ankles in a headlock. Sitting on on the ground by his hips, Athena uses one hand to scratch at the sole of his socked feet. Apollo yelps and claws at the ground with another giggly eruption.

“Scene change!” Athena teases as she tightens her hold on Apollo’s feet. “It’s the last round of a wrestling match and it looks like the yellow corner has taken down the champ!”

“Dohohohon’t cohohount the red cohohohorner out juhuhuhust yehehehet!” Apollo exclaims. He twists his middle like a knotted spring and playfully yanks the back of Athena’s shirt. Athena lets out a lighthearted scream as she’s tugged to the ground and releases Apollo’s ankles. Rapidly chaining the tides, Apollo leaps up and dives his fingers towards Athena’s ticklish middle.

“Nowhere to run now, supervillain!” Apollo switches the scene again, now to a superhero scenario. “I’ve found your weakness!” Apollo aims right for her belly. Athena squeals and instantly tries to shove Apollo’s hands from her tummy. She squirms, kicks, and her laughter increases tenfold. Apollo smirks from above her as a sly superhero. “Now, do you surrender, supervillain?

“I gihihihive!!! I gihihihive!” Athena manages to screech through her laughter.

“So, do we have a truce?” the lawyer in red teases his friend one more time.

“Yehehes! Yehehes! Nohohow gehehet ohohohoff!” Athena uses some of her remaining strength to reach up and tickle Apollo’s underarms. Apollo reels back with a squeak and immediately pulls his hands away from her. 

“Ah! Okay! Okay! I’ll stohohop!” Apollo squeezes his arms to his sides, then plops on his tailbone. Athena lays flat on the ground, and both lawyers release any remaining giggles into the air. Both of them place their hands on their rising and falling stomachs.

After their small breather, Apollo leans back on his arms. “Is this what usually happens in these improv lessons?” the lawyer in red asks while any leftover ghost tickles leave his skin.

Athena chuckles and also sits herself up on her arms. “Well, how the activity is supposed to turn out is never planned in improv. But the fun and team bonding aspect of it? Yes, absolutely!”

The female lawyer stands up on her feet. “Come on, Apollo! Let’s go to our next activity! And don’t worry, it'll be different this time.” She pauses to smile at him. “Unless of course, the scene calls for it.”

Apollo performs a lighthearted eye roll. “Alright, I’m coming.” 

Athena helps him off the ground and the two prepare for their next improv lesson. It may be difficult to see the purpose in something like improv at first, but Athena and Apollo were able to find the use, and the joy, in the entertaining activity.

[messers-moony]

Annotated Books & Sleek Hardcovers | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: Everything told them to be apart, but they said fuck the world.

Inspiration: Click

People would describe the younger Lupin sibling as warm and bright. She shined like the sun and was warm like a sunny summer day. She was the breeze on a warm summer day and the sun on a chilly autumn morning. She was worn books with annotations in the margins, highlighting, and scribbles. She was dependable, sweet, kind, and loving. 

Dependable like a best friend. Sweet like Honeydukes chocolate. Kind of like a puppy dog who had been just adopted and as lovable as soft blankets. Her brother was no different. He oozed shyness, charisma, and intelligence. His tousled sandy hair and gleaming green eyes made everyone bend to his will. He didn’t even know that he was doing it. 

But by fifth year, Remus Lupin had come out as gay. A month later, Sirius Black was on top of the Gryffindor table with a blushing Remus announcing their relationship. Remus had given his sister a sheepish look as he sat back down. Y/n had just kissed his cheek and smiled. 

Y/n and Regulus had been sitting beside each other when Sirius had taken the Great Hall by storm. Instinctively, Regulus tightened his grip on her hand, and Y/n allowed her thumb to run along his. She watched as his shoulders relaxed a prominent amount. 

“Well,” Regulus whispered, “I wasn’t expecting that. Did you know?”

Y/n shook her head, “No, but I’m happy for them. Are you?”

“I ‘spose.” Regulus shrugged, “When do you think they’ll find out about us?”

“Remus is a bit oblivious.” Y/n replied, “Sirius doesn’t really turn his head in your direction.”

Regulus looked down at his lap, “So if anything, we’ll have to tell them.”

“Do you think,” His voice was lower than a whisper, “That he’ll ever be my brother again?”

“I do.” Y/n leaned her head on his shoulder, “Siblings have a special bond.”

“I hope you’re right.”

She snorted, “I’m always right.”

At that, he cracked a smile. 

Maybe it was her warmth that melted the ice surrounding Regulus’ heart. The icy, cold, Regulus Black. It wasn’t like they were hiding their relationship, but people were terrified to talk about it. They didn’t want to face the wrath of the young Black brother. 

Regulus was described as the dark, cold winter nights people despised. The winter nights that were so low in temperature that even staying inside with the heat on, blankets on, and layers of clothes couldn’t warm. He was sleek, hardcover books and soggy leaves in the fall that left you disappointed when the satisfying crunch didn’t echo through your ears. 

Regulus Black was everything but warm. He was your least favorite color. Your least favorite food. He was everything you hated. Perhaps it was Y/n’s sweetness that brought some of the crunchiness back to his leaf, the pen to his book, and the folded pages. 

They were star-crossed lovers. Everything in the universe was trying to keep them apart from the colors of their robes and the clashing of their personalities. Regulus was the dry autumn and brash winter. Y/n was the prospering spring and hopeful summer. Perhaps they were the best of both worlds, and that’s why they worked together so well. 

It wasn’t until their sixth year when their relationship had become the talk of the school. Regulus had begun wearing long sleeves even in the hot months, and people grew suspicious. Only he and she knew what laid beneath that crisp white button-up. Beneath the cold ice he kept around his heart. 

Y/n looked around Platform Nine and Three-Quarters for her raven-haired boyfriend as Remus joined his friends on the train. When she did find him, it wasn’t pleasant. Walburga had been fussing with his sleeve, making sure it stayed down, and she had slapped the back of his head for slouching over. Regulus had rolled his shoulders to stand up straight. Orion didn’t look impressed, and Walburga murmured something along the lines of, “Good enough.”

“Now, what do we say, Regulus?”

Regulus caught Y/n’s eyes for just a split second, and he looked away hastily, “Toujours Pur.”

“Good.” Walburga stated, “Now go.”

He nodded and began walking toward Y/n’s general direction. Regulus took her hand in his directing her on another path, “Meet at our usual compartment.”

Y/n gave him a smile in response as she walked away. It left Regulus with a pink hue coating his usually pale skin. His stomach fluttered, and his heart palpitated. They entered the train on opposite sides and met in the middle at their compartment. She was already sitting down when he plopped down beside her. His head was leaning on her shoulder. 

“Missed you.” Regulus slurred, sleep evident in his tone, “Wish I could’ve escaped.”

“I missed you too, Reggie.” Y/n took his left hand in hers, “But I know that we have a lot to talk about.”

He tensed, “I suppose we do.” 

“Things like what’s on your left forearm?”

“Y/n, please-“

“I’m not mad.”

“But you’re disappointed.”

Her light laugh confused him, “I’m not either, actually.”

Regulus lifted his head to look at her, “You aren’t?”

“I just want to know what you plan on doing with that mark.”

“I don’t have a choice.” Regulus stated, slumping down again, “I have to serve him.”

Y/n hesitated, “You have choices.”

“What are they?”

“Be a spy.” 

“A spy?” Regulus queried incredulously, “Are you serious?”

A silly smile graced her features, “Actually. Forget I asked that. Are you daft?”

“No.” Y/n replied, “I’m actually top of our class, so.”

“If he finds out I’m a spy. Then I’d be killed, Y/n.” Regulus said softly, “It’d be different if I didn’t care about anyone. If I had nothing to lose, but I do, and I don’t want to lose a chance at a future with you because of it.”

Y/n took his face into her hands, “You can’t do this. You can’t work for him. You’ll kill yourself slowly anyway.”

“I don’t have a choice.” He wiped a tear from her cheek, “This was bound to happen. This was my fate.”

“Who gives a shit about fate.” Y/n chuckled tearfully, “Professor Trelawney always said that you could change fate.”

Regulus cracked a tiny smile, “You would pay attention in Divination, wouldn’t you.”

“Someone’s gotta give Sirius the notes.” 

“Sirius… I didn’t even think about-“ Regulus stopped, “He’s- He’s gonna hate me.”

“Hey, Regulus, look at me.” His breathing sped up, and his hands began to tremble, “Sirius isn’t going to hate you.”

He shook his head, “No, he’s- he’s gonna- I’m gonna-“

Y/n wrapped her arms around him. Regulus nosed at the crook of her neck, breathing in the sweet perfume. The fragrance smelt of crisp apples mixed along with her scent of caramel, chocolate, and marshmallow. It gave him something to focus on, and with his muddled mind, Regulus fell asleep. 

Regulus was still asleep three hours later when Sirius came barging into the compartment stopping in his tracks. Y/n brought her index finger to her lips, ordering him to be quiet. Sirius shut the door and sat in front of them. Regulus’ face was out of view from his older brother's. His nose was nuzzled in Y/n’s neck, and his hair hid his face. 

“So,” Sirius began quietly, the atmosphere had never been so thick, “How long?”

“Fourth year.” Y/n thought Sirius’ eyes were going to bulge out of his head. 

“But you- and him- you don’t-“

“Don’t belong together?”

Sirius nodded, “Who are you to say? Technically I could say the same about you and my brother.”

“Fair point.” Sirius muttered. 

It was quiet again, and all that was heard was the slashing of rain on the window of the train, “How- How is he?” Sirius’ voice had never been so quiet before. 

“He’ll be okay.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

Before Y/n could respond, Regulus began to tremble again. He was trying to dig his nose deeper into her neck and reaching desperately for something to hold onto. Y/n allowed his hand to grasp hers tightly. His trembling subsided, and Y/n gently kissed the crown of his head, allowing him to relax finally. 

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“I never-“ Sirius looked shocked, “I could never calm his nightmares….”

Y/n gave him a soft smile, “Perhaps it’s a Lupin talent.”

“Perhaps.” Sirius replied, “But, is he okay?”

“He will be.”

“What does that mean?” Sirius questioned loudly, and Y/n hushed him, “They didn’t- did they?”

She nodded solemnly, “We’re gonna- We’re gonna work through it together.” 

Sirius could see her swallowing the lump in her throat. Sirius could see the dullness in her eyes, the same dull that Remus’ eyes got after the full moon. Sirius could always read Remus through his eyes. They were a tell-tale of his emotions. It seemed that he could do the same with Y/n. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, untold trauma, and unspoken words. 

“Take care of him, yeah?” Sirius requested quietly as he stood up to leave the compartment. 

She nodded, “Yeah.”

He closed the sliding door quietly. It was a quiet walk back to his own compartment with the Marauders. The task of getting the summer homework to copy turned into an entirely new adventure. Sirius opened the door to his compartment to find James and Peter talking animately. Remus sat with his head against the glass and head in a book. He had some muggle markers beside him that Sirius liked to draw with. 

Sirius slumped beside Remus putting space between them. That was the first tell. The second tell was that Sirius didn’t speak, and he stared out to the train's hallway. Remus closed his book, placing it back beside him, and wrapped his arm around his boyfriend's shoulders. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice was low and hot in Sirius’ ear. 

“Nothing.” Sirius replied, still not looking into Remus’ eyes, “Your sister was no help. Said I needed to do the homework on my own. Said I was a tosser for not doing it.”

Remus snorted and nuzzled his nose into Sirius’ cheek, “Well, perhaps I ought to tell her that’s not how she should speak to my boyfriend.” 

“No.” Sirius hated how distant he sounded, “She’s got other things to worry about.”

The lycanthrope furrowed his eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Like you.” Sirius lied like it was nothing, “Who do you think puts hot cocoa and Honeydukes chocolate at your bedside after the full?”

“Then I should give her a sister of the year award.” Remus corrected, and Sirius nodded, “Perhaps you should.”

If only I could get a best brother award, Sirius thought. It was selfish. He knew that. It was wrong to envy Y/n and Remus’ relationship. Unfit to be jealous of his brothers relationship, but he couldn’t help it. Sirius wanted to be the one to chase all of Regulus’ demons away. Sirius wanted to hold him during every thunderstorm as he used to as children. Sirius should be happy for Regulus even if it weren’t because of him. 

It took a month before Remus was storming into the common room and yelled insanities at his sister. Remus wasn’t thinking, words fell from his mouth so carelessly, and the entire common room stared as Remus had his sister pushed against a wall, hands holding her up from the collar on her shirt, seething at her. 

“You must be one of the stupidest people I’ve ever met.” Remus seethed, and Y/n flinched, “You must be fucking insane.”

Sirius could do nothing but stare, “Maybe I should’ve disowned you as my sister the minute I saw you hanging out with him.”

Tears ebbed at Y/n’s eyes, “But I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I trusted you, and you betrayed me.”

James couldn’t tell what was worse, the fact that Remus was so calm and his voice was so low or when Remus yelled, “You were my everything. My sister, my partner in crime, my other half, and you fucking destroyed it.”

“Mate, stop.” James tried to interject, but Remus just shoved her against the wall harder, and streaks of silver appeared on her cheeks. 

“Wonder what dad would do if he found out.” Remus taunted, and Y/n shook her head, “You know how much dad despises them.”

Y/n choked, “Remus-“

“Don’t.” He snarled, “My name isn’t allowed to fall from your mouth. Fucking traitor.”

Sirius had enough, “Remus, stop. That’s enough.”

Remus whirled around, Y/n sliding to the floor, knees to her chest, “Who are you talk? You did the same thing back in fifth year.”

“I’m not your bloody sister.” Sirius snapped, “She’s been there with you through everything. Maybe if you let her explain, then you could understand.”

Remus pointed at her and looked at Sirius with fire in his eyes, “She isn’t my sister. She’ll never be my sister again.”

Sirius could remember the exact same words falling from his mouth only a year earlier, and it crushed him. Y/n was sobbing, and her knees were pulled tightly under her chin. James was trying to console her, but it wasn’t working as Remus and Sirius went toe to toe. Y/n didn’t deserve this for loving who she loved. 

Remus scoffed when Sirius wouldn’t back down and stormed up to the boy's dormitory. Sirius knelt before her and lifted her head from her lap. His thumbs wiped away the tears, and he took her into his arms. So much built-up pain, built-up trauma, built-up lies. She was finally crumbling like a tower on an unsteady foundation. Y/n was a one-hundred-story tower that was collapsing from the bottom up. 

Debris falling everywhere and soot clouding the atmosphere. He could see the smog slipping in her mind, clouding up her judgment and thoughts. Sirius could see the debris cluttering and scraping away at her heart. With every scrap and every tear, her heart began to give out. It felt like being crushed in an elevator, with no room to breathe and no room for moving. She was stuck, and that was it. 

Y/n couldn’t remember much after feeling Sirius’ lips on the top of her head. But she woke up on the plush of the common room couch. The rough maroon fabric was felt beneath her fingertips. Beside her was a boy in an armchair. He was curled up, and a black fleece blanket covered his body from the coldness of the Gryffindor common room. 

Beside her was a glass of water and a note. She picked up the water and allowed it to glide down her throat, soothing the ache from her earlier crying. Her nose still felt stuffy, and she willed herself to sniffle quietly, trying not to wake the boy beside her. The parchment was ripped at the edges and was written in beautiful calligraphy. 

"Il y a toujours des ténèbres avant que la lumière brille."

She folded the note and placed it back on the side table with the empty glass. The fire had gone out fully in the common room, allowing the temperature in the room to fall. It was cold, dry, and dark. Y/n had never seen the common room so dark. Not a candle was lit, and no light was shining from the windows. Just the slightest bit of moonlight. Gently she stood up and reached for the boy's hand in the armchair. 

“Reggie.” Her voice was smooth and soft, “Reg.”

He stirred and opened his eyes to meet his girlfriend's warm ones. Sirius had rushed to the Slytherin common room despite all prejudice. Some of the Slytherins spat at him when he asked for the password. It took ten people before Regulus finally answered to the incessant knocking. He was shocked to be met with his older brother. 

There Sirius had told him what happened, how Remus had shoved his sister against the wall accusing her of betraying him for dating him. Regulus felt ashamed. He didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t get to be civil with each other. Sirius even uttered the exact words Remus had, “She isn’t my sister. She’ll never be my sister again.” Regulus had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying anything. 

People stared at the younger Black brother as he walked into the Gryffindor common room. The Gryffindor’s glared, spat, and insulted, but he didn’t care. He found his girlfriend lying on the couch with a thick red blanket surrounding her. Sirius had claimed that Marlene had brought it for her, and Sirius had been the one to move her to the couch. Regulus saw the dried tear stains, the swollen eyes, and the bruised lip. 

“It wasn’t pretty.” Sirius had muttered, “Remus isn’t one to hold back.”

Regulus smoothed her hair back, “This is because of me….”

“Reg, no.” Sirius had replied, “Remus will come around. He just doesn’t know how to digest this.”

The common room was silent, and Regulus just held her hand. His thumb stroked the back of her hand softly. Sirius watched as Regulus went through a wave of emotions. He was hurt, confused, concerned, and terrified. It was like watching the seasons go by. Watching everything welt, die, grow back and prosper just to repeat the cycle. It was like watching a new book turn into an old one as the ink was embedded onto the pages, the papers getting folded, tabs being placed, and the spine being cracked. 

Regulus appeared to be a sleek hardcover book, but she was his person. She turned him into a used paperback. One with highlighting, tabs, folded pages, a cracked spine, and a loved cover. His heart beat for her. She was the reason he woke up every morning, the reason he ate, the reason he got good marks. She was his reason. 

“I tried talking sense into him.” Sirius confessed quietly, “He just brought up the incident in fifth year.”

Regulus closed his eyes tightly and tried to withhold his tears, “Maybe I should talk to him.”

“No.” Sirius said sternly, “You’ll be asking for death.”

“What do I do, Sirius?” 

His blue-grey eyes were glittering with desperation, “Nothing… Take care of her.” 

With that, Sirius left a kiss on his younger brother's head and left the common room, retreating to the dormitory. Regulus sighed and placed his forehead on the back of her hand. Tears slipped from his eyes and onto the material of the couch. Everyone was gone at that point. The common room wholly cleared and the fire slowly decaying in the fireplace as Regulus Black finally allowed himself to break. 

He woke up on an armchair with a soft thick black blanket covering his limbs. Red rimmed e/c eyes met his blue-grey ones, and he felt a wave of relief. Y/n reached her hand out, and Regulus took it, keeping the blanket around his shoulders as she brought him to her dormitory. The girls were sleeping, and Y/n sat down on her bed, Regulus doing the same. She drew the curtains and muttered a silencing spell. 

Regulus laid with his head on her pillow, pulling her to lay on his chest. He wrapped the fuzzy black blanket around them. Y/n nuzzled into his side, and he placed a kiss on the top of her head. They didn’t need to exchange words for expressing how they felt. They knew how the other felt. There was no need on elaborating. She fell asleep not too long after, and Regulus laid awake trying of solutions. 

Even when the sun broke the horizon, Regulus still had nothing. 

They continued the year like this. Remus and Y/n didn’t speak at all anymore. Remus went as far as to change his schedule and ignore the sweets left on his bedside after the full moons. Sirius would pretend it came from him, but Remus still would budge. He would chuck the chocolate in the trash even though he knew that Y/n barely had money in the first place to buy it. He’d dump the hot chocolate in the waste bin and smash the mug to get out any frustration. 

Sirius thought that the worst part was Remus never grieved for his sister. He never saw Remus cry or get upset about what he did. It was like Remus had no remorse for what he did. Sirius had grieved. He had sobbed in the midst of twilight with shit silencing charms. Sirius had wailed and clutched his blanket close to his chest, hoping it would soothe the aching of his heart. 

When they graduated, Remus didn’t look for his sister in the crowd. He didn’t care if she was there or not, but she was. Y/n was there holding Regulus’ hand tightly, watching her brother shake Dumbledore’s hand. She watched as Sirius embraced Regulus in a tight hug in the shadows. Y/n smiled bittersweetly at their embrace as Regulus took her hand back in his. 

Sirius began to open his mouth, “No need to lie. I know he doesn’t care if I was here or not.”

Y/n shuffled on her feet, and Sirius took her into his arms. Sirius was shorter than Regulus, and he didn’t smell the same, but his hugs were just as comforting in a brotherly way. His hand caressed her hair, and Sirius couldn’t help the way his heart ached. He shouldn’t be the one hugging her, Remus should, but he isn’t. Sirius kissed her forehead and released her from his hug. 

“I’ll write to you guys.” 

“Don’t get into too much trouble.” Y/n replied with tear-filled eyes, “I can’t imagine you gone.”

Sirius smirked, “Yes, ma’am. Don’t you know I always obey the rules?”

“She’s being real, Sirius.” Regulus didn’t crack a smile, “This war isn’t a joke, and I’d- I’d like to see you next year when I graduate.”

“I’ll be there.” Sirius said solemnly, “I won’t leave you guys. They won’t take me alive.”

Y/n cracked a smile, “Good.”

Regulus nudged his girlfriend, and she wiped the tears from her cheeks, “Protect him. He gets reckless and forgets about himself. Don’t let him do anything stupid.” 

Sirius could still hear Remus’ voice in their first Order meeting, “I swear on all Merlin if they touch her, they’ll be sorry.” 

“‘Course. Don’t forget he’s still my boyfriend.” Sirius replied, and Y/n smiled, “‘S why I’m asking you and not James. Keep- Keep my brother safe, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They joined the Order of the Phoenix without looking back. Remus, James, Sirius, and Peter quickly became some of the best Aurors of the Ministry of Magic. Sirius had made the Daily Prophet multiple for putting Death Eaters in Azkaban. Many citizens of the Wizarding community thought of him as the next Alastor Moody. 

Seventh year was the worst one yet. Most of the Slytherin Death Eaters were attacking the younger kids. Most of the older Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs had to defend them from the unforgivable curses. It seemed normal to hear the crucio curse being thrown away and seeing green flashes. It made Y/n sick to her stomach. 

It got so surreal that Y/n and Regulus had begun sleeping behind tapestries or hidden tunnels. Dormitories and common rooms were no longer safe. Their backs ached, and body’s sore from lying on concrete, but it was better than dying. Graduation was not a celebration, and no one from outside was allowed in, but Sirius waited for them at Kings Cross. 

The next time Y/n saw Remus was when she was being sworn into the Order, and he barely spared her a glance. Not long after the speech was being spoken, another person entered the meeting point. He was shockingly familiar with wavy black hair and blue-grey eyes. Remus jumped out of his seat, and James had to hold him back. Regulus released a breath and stood beside his girlfriend. 

“Now. I’m sure there’s a lot of confusion.” Dumbledore began calmly, “Regulus has sworn to be our spy.”

Remus growled, “He’s a Death Eater.”

“Exactly.” Remus glared at the old Professor, “Therefore, he can enter and participate in their meetings. Then he can come back here and report what he knows.” 

“I don’t like it any more than you do.” Regulus said, “I don’t want to put anyone in danger, but someone needs to do it.”

Remus went to speak, but Regulus cut him off, “Someone needs to protect your sister.”

Everyone stared in shock at the bold statement that came from the young Black brother's mouth, and Remus leaped from his seat, “She is a traitor. Just like you.”

Instinctively Regulus moved her behind him as Remus was now face to face with him, “She’s everything but. Wasn’t she the one who stopped Fenrir Greyback from killing you?”

“Shut up.”

“Wasn’t she the one who cleaned your wounds after the full moons before the Marauders?” 

“I’m warning you.”

“Wasn’t she the one who used to make you hot chocolate when the nightmares got too bad that you couldn’t sleep?”

Remus snapped, and Sirius pulled him away from Regulus. But they all saw how Y/n cowered when he lunged forward, how she flinched back, covering her face with her hands. Regulus kept a tight hold on her hand, and they watched as Sirius calmed Remus down, bringing him upstairs. When Remus was gone, Dumbledore spoke again. 

“Well, the first Order meeting will be announced in just a couple of days. It allows Y/n and Regulus to get in their positions.” Dumbledore announced, “It allows Y/n to get some training and Regulus to get Voldemort’s trust.”

Everyone dispersed. Y/n and Regulus apparated to a flat they had bought in London. It was relatively modern for the time and had everything they needed. The place was clean and brand new. When they landed in the living room, she went straight to the bedroom. Regulus prepared her a hot drink and set it at her bedside table with a warming charm. He laid beside her, placing her head on his heart. 

“Je Vous Aime.” His french accent was so smooth and gentle, like a baby blanket, “Je t'aime aussi.”

Everything just got more stressful as time passed. Regulus’ job got more and more dangerous, making Y/n worry profusely. It got to times where they had to pretend to throw curses back and forth so he could prove that he was loyal to them. It wasn’t until a rumor of a spy for the Death Eaters came out that Regulus’ job became crucial. It took three more meetings, and on October 15th Regulus knew who it was. 

He could remember the day vividly how Voldemort welcomed Peter Pettigrew to the Death Eaters with open arms. Regulus had stared in mock happiness but, in reality, had been shocked. Someone so close to the Potters had gone and betrayed him. So when Peter was absent from one meeting, Regulus brought it up. 

“They spy is Pettigrew.”

“No.” James chuckled, “You’re lying, right?”

Regulus shook his head, “He plans to kill you, Lily, and Harry on Halloween.”

Everyone stiffened. The air was tense, but Dumbledore smiled victoriously, “Beautiful work, Regulus. We’ll apprehend Pettigrew when he’s seen again.”

They had set up a false meeting where Peter got sent to Azkaban only two days later after Regulus announced he was the traitor. That sparked the war between them, and this time, Regulus was on the right side, the side he always wanted to be on. A week later, and on Halloween, Voldemort was dead. Many people's lives were lost, but many were saved. 

After the war, Remus had proposed to Sirius, and yet Y/n was still not invited to the wedding. Sirius had begged Remus to make amends with her. The war was over. This nonsense was not needed anymore. But Remus was stubborn, and Y/n was too afraid to approach him, so James gave her the invisibility cloak to watch her brother marry. Not the ideal way she planned on watching her brother and his love get married. 

A couple of months later, Regulus and Y/n did the same. Except they did it alone, with Sirius being their only witness and the person marrying them. Sirius couldn’t help but feel awful for Remus not being able to walk her down the aisle, not to see her in the pretty dress she had picked out. It wasn’t until fifteen years later when Y/n had two teenage boys, and a little girl did someone came knocking on her door during the winter holidays. 

Both boys were running around the house, and their little sister was trying to keep up. Two twin boys who were fifteen - Romeo and Romulus. A little girl who was just about ten named Ascella. Romulus was a carbon copy of Sirius. Romeo had the Lupin sandy hair and the Black family eyes with the Black family defined face. He was the best of both worlds. Ascella looked like a female Regulus. 

Romeo was the Keeper of the Slytherin house for Quidditch. Romulus played Beater for Gryffindor, and little Ascella would get her Hogwarts letter in just about a year. Regulus and Y/n both predicted she’d be in Gryffindor with her brave, mischievous nature. Y/n was the one to get the door with her two boys behind her. Ascella had been called into the living room by her father. 

Y/n was shocked to meet familiar green eyes, “Um- hi.”

“Hey.” Remus said nervously, scratching the back of his head, “I hope I’m not intruding.”

Both boys behind her looked confused, “Mum, who is this?”

A pang of hurt hit Remus, “This- This is my brother.”

“Brother?” Romulus questioned, “Like he’s our uncle?”

“Yes.” Y/n retorted, “Now you boys grab your sister. Go do something upstairs while we talk, yeah?” 

Romeo looked crestfallen, “Mum, we aren’t five.”

“I know, but we have a lot of talking to do.”

Romeo sighed, “Fine but be safe.” 

She kissed the tops of their heads, “Of course.”

Ascella was running to her brothers within seconds after Romulus called for her. Remus saw her black hair flutter around as she followed her brothers up the steps. Y/n smiled and motioned for Remus to come inside. The house was lovely and decorated for the holidays. Y/n walked through the hallway to the living room, and Remus followed. 

“I apologize for the mess.” She chuckled, “Having the boys home makes the house messy.”

Remus saw the pictures on the wall, “A Slytherin and a Gryffindor.”

Y/n smiled, “Yep. Romeos the Slytherin, and Romulus is the Gryffindor. We have a feeling Ascella will be in Gryffindor too.”

He placed the picture back down and sighed, “Merlin, what did I miss?”

Regulus was still stiff and stern, “A lot if you couldn’t tell already. That’s what happens when you call your sister a traitor and decide to disown her.”

All three children were listening secretly and grimaced at their father's words, “But don’t worry. I’ve done your job. I’ve been there for her, protected her, and made sure she was happy.” Regulus snapped, “And Sirius did your job of being the children’s uncle.”

“He didn’t even tell me you guys had kids.” Remus muttered, “‘Course he didn’t. In case you don’t remember, you didn’t want anything to do with us.” Regulus retorted. 

The children had never heard their father speak this way with so much ice in his words. Regulus was blunt and unapologetic, “We wanted you to be a part of our family, Remus, we really did. But we didn’t know how you’d feel.” Y/n informed. 

“Plus, the last time you saw us, you tried to kill Regulus.” Ascella covered her ears, and Romeo ushered them to his room to stop listening, “Yeah, so forgive us for not inviting you to be a part of our family.”

Regulus punctuated his statement by putting his arm around Y/n’s waist, “I’m sorry.” Remus murmured. 

“I’m really sorry for how I acted. It was immature and stupid of me.” He continued, “I didn’t know how to feel when I heard my sister was with a Death Eater at the time, and I was just scared.”

Y/n stood up and hugged him, “Remus. What you did isn’t going to be forgiven. I’m sorry.”

He had tears glazing in his emerald green eyes that dulled with age, “I know we were young, but that doesn’t excuse the words you said or how you acted. Trying to kill my husband and saying god awful things about me.”

Y/n took her seat beside Regulus, and Remus sniffled, “You did this. Not us.” Regulus reminded, and Remus nodded. 

“Okay, I just- I’ll go.” Remus stood up from his seat and walked down the hallway to the front door; he took in every family portrait. 

When he got to the door, Y/n opened it for him, and he walked out, “Remus.”

He turned, and Y/n hugged him one last time. His chin rested on top of her head, breathing in her shampoo that still hadn’t changed since third year. The same perfume from fourth year. Her arms fit around him just the same way as they had when they were little children running around the lake. Y/n kissed his cheek and released herself from his embrace. 

“I may not be your sister.” Y/n repeated with tear-filled eyes, and Remus allowed the tears to fall; her two boys were standing beside her, “But you’ll always be my brother.”

The door had closed, and Remus decided that that was the end of his chapter. He had underlined, circled, highlighted, and folded every significant page, but this was the end of the chapter. He was flipping to the next page, where the new chapter began. The new chapter where he had to live without his sister or his niece and nephews. 

Remus always loved fragile, cracked paperbacks. 

[missamyrisa2]

How about a story where a fem ticker ties you down and tickles your royal parts to ticklegasm and is obsessed with tapping her long nails on your belt at the same time

Oooh gosssh~ you reallly want me to wreck myself, don't you? Alright~~

It all started with that silly party game. Word associations, I never thought that would be my downfall. And yet ~ here I am, colorful scarves lining my wrists and running over my legs. She didn't have any rope handy. It's a comfy chair, really, and I can at least sit and appreciate its construction as I wiggle myself to madness while she continues to file her nails in front me. That stupid emery board, why does it have to be so scratchy? That sound is like twirling little puffs in my ears ~ mmmh. My toes are wiggling and I know she sees it. My cheeks burn with blush. I just had to chance playing "feathers" in the word association to sensual, I couldn't let it go. I thought it would be funny to play something innocuous for this woman I found so attractive ~ and yet, here we are, a killer intuition that led her to ask me about it as the party winded down~

Those nails though, my gosh. Long, dark red, thick, and I can see the sparkle from here. Back and forth the board goes. I always wonder when I see nails like hers, my mind can’t help but watch how they move and ponder how many ticklish tummies or toes they’ve grazed. She finishes and tosses the file aside, immediately stepping closer to me. I expect to be asked if I’m ticklish, I guess she might wiggle her nails or taunt in some way. But she cocks her head slightly, purses a lip and viciously reaches for my sides. Not that my defenses are any good when I’m wearing a crop top, but I at least like to pretend I have a chance ~ and she gives me none. Those thick nail tips glide under my sweater and over my skin, grasping in that knowing way only an experienced tickler would ~ my questions of her experience are answered and then some. 

I can feel the rosebuds of blush on my cheeks spreading down over my neck. Her nails are barely moving, my sides quiver and my midsection writhes on the chair doing most of the work. That chuckle starts ~ it always gave me tingles. She was not the usual inclusion to our gaming group, a middle-aged divorcee looking for friendship. But she slotted right in and was always sweet to me ~ which made it even harder to hide my usual love of curvy mature ladies. Even as I giggle madly and feel my body losing control in that cage of dark red claws around my bouncing sides, I can’t help but love on that knowing squeaky chuckle along with the beautiful sleeveless top she wore. My belly trembles madly not only from the tickles but also the jiggles in her beautiful arms~

Finally through my giggles I manage the usual rambles ~ normally I’m bargaining and pleading and trying to distract out of the gate, but that immediate attack put me right into the high-pitched squeals. “You gotta stop you can’t tickle me I need to be at a ribbon cutting ceremony in five minutes I just remembered and mmmmhh the big scissors~!” I hear myself spit out between deep laughs. She chuckles that chuckle flashes me a flirty smile as a nail drags up my waist to my twitching navel. 

“Mhm. Now where’s that bellybutton?!” She squeaks out, poking her nail all the way in before wiggling it and scratching the hypersensitive skin at the bottom. 

“Nnnh but it’s open mic night and I have a tight ten minute set to do about how gum has gotten more minty lately!” 

“You don’t need jokes, you’re making me laugh with those cute giggles!” she retorts and walks her fingers up my ribs, scribbling wildly before darting into my underarms with spidery digs. “How about this, you go to your open mic night and I will tickle you the whole time. You’ll kill, I promise!” 

I scream out with ticklish laughs, nodding enthusiastically as both agreement and coping when her nails glide up to tease my neck before sliding down to torment my belly with graspy jumpy tickles across my quaking skin. And then I’m gasping, the sudden flood of pleasure from a pair of hands with intimate expertise. I glance down and see her tanned hands squeezing and stroking knowingly through my jeans over my princess part. 

“There. There’s a little pleasure to go with that intense...tickle torture!” She chimes, following my struggles on the chair to take in this sudden affection. I giggle-gasp and pull at my bonds, her nails tracing and grazing the swell in my pants, squeezing the tip lovingly through the fabric of the denim and my silky panties below. She alternates pure pleasure touches with strokes of her nails, the sound and sensation of them on the materials making me laugh out nervously as I become so helplessly aroused on the chair~

But I’m so much worse off when I hear those words, the dreaded attention on a particular part of my outfit~ “Hmm. Nice belt!” I choke back a giggly whimper, to which her intuition immediately seizes and she leans in looking at my eyes and then down to my silver flower-shaped belt buckle with the thick black length. I murmur a thank you and something about us getting a midnight snack run but I know she can’t be deterred from this curiosity. 

The snickering whimpering moans continue as she inspects, holding the oversized girly metal, tracing the length of the material, adjusting it slightly as my squirms have put it off-center. Finally, I break blushing giggling out. “Pleeease you have no idea what you’re doing to meee!” That chuckle, bubbles up. She doesn’t even have to say it, I can see that intent and my body quivers at this unbelievably sharp intuition.

Nails glide along my waist, right above the belt line, as the other hand continues to probe. She’s looking for that right sensation, the deep way to exploit this silly kink. I shake my head and bite my shivering lower lip. Her red talons at my midsection, gliding on that ticklish strip of exposed skin, perform an inquisition as her other hand explores while she measures my reactions. Not that it matters much because I’m rambling out confessions in record time as my pants strain to contain my obvious reactions to these touches~

“Mmmh okay okay okay okay okayyyy okay okay okay~~ jujjuust just just just just okayy! I have a thingy thing thang with my belt belt belt it’s sooo silly and ridiculous and whyyy it’s connected to tickles I don’t know buttt my buttt tingles because you’re touching it and your nailssss my gosh why are they soo perfect I mean you’re pretty and gorgeous and I love your curves and and and okay okay okay you’re touching ittt!!”

She’s chuckling knowingly the whole time, so delighted at what her touches have inspired. The worst is still on the way. My most dreaded sensation, the total lack of direct touch and yet absolutely devastating to my ears and wiggly body. A nail taps on the metal buckle, that sound makes me shiver and shake pulling at the scarves fruitlessly. It taps more, continuously, endlessly. She tests each petal on the flower. She taps the center incessantly because it makes me giggle out at the highest pitches. That sound invades my ears, the indirect sensation makes my hips buck. I twist side to side and her nails follow, tappa tappa tappa. 

“Well now I know what to do any time you’re winning at video games!” She chuckles, her other hand again reaching for my princess part. I plead and whimper again telling her she has no idea what she’s doing to my body. Her eyebrows raise as she gives me knowing smirk that nearly makes me lose control right then and there ~ but oh, she’s such a pro. Her little rubs on my aching swollen princess part are spaced and timed to draw it out as long as possible. 

Those wicked nails alternate their duties as she takes me right into fuzzy madness. As one set taps and clicks and presses on my belt making me moan, the other is playfully poking my bellybutton and strumming the rim before squeezing a side. Then they flip, with the tapping hand slipping into the waistline of my pants back and forth while the other is spidering the buckle making me howl with helpless sensation. My rambles never cease, but only grow more nonsensical.

“Mmmmh fancy pants these are fancy pants I’m gonna flowergasm the cloud and take this chair bye bye okayyy okay okay okayyy I confess I made the crop circles your nails circle around and it’s soo bad why are your nails sooo amazing!!”

And just as my head starts to list to the side in sensory overload, a piercing buzzing sound makes my hair whip back up in shock. She grins as a travel magic wand is taken between my legs. I gasp and try to scoot out of the chair, legs quivering and shaking. She nods assuringly and starts drawing the vibrating bulb up and down the bulge in my pants, her other hand split with the thumb nail tapping the belt as the other nails wave like windy grass against my tummy.  “You’re gonna cum for me little princess. And you’re gonna love it.”

That was it, those words were all it took. I could barely stand the vibrations on that death spot even through the thick layer of denim and silky layer below of my pink filly panties. The tingles travelling through the materials, her knowing eyes on my shaking teased body ~ it was all too much. That loss of body control never gets any less tickly teasy ~ my thighs quivering, hips bucking, tummy trembling and my near-soundless gigglemoans nonstop as the buzzing wand stayed tight to my princess part all as it melted. She made me ticklegasm right then and there, fully clothed sitting on a chair with her wicked tickly nails simply touching my belt and belly lightly to draw out the orgasmic starry-eyed sensations as long as possible while a little visible wet spot grew in my pants.

My body went limp in the chair, every touch electrically stimulating the last princess drops from my royal area. I was dimly aware of the movements. She untied me and grazed her fingers on my body as I writhed and squirmed, helped over to the bed. My clothes came off at some point, I suppose I helped a little. My energy came rolling back as I felt aware that I was in my panties now, though she had put the belt back on me, and my face was resting in her big bosom. That chuckle started as I felt her powerful arms around my body, nails grazing my back side. “Ready for more~”

Not a question, a declaration~

[getlostsquidward]

Secrets Turn into Regrets

Cordelia Goode x fem!reader

A/N: My first fic for my beloved Cordelia and it’s pure angst. Be warned. Fic based on Lifetime by Ben&Ben. The song used is Loved You First by One Direction.

Summary: You learn that chances are only given to those people who are willing to take the risk.

What do you do when you start to feel that you’re harboring romantic feelings for your best friend?

You suppose there would be only two answers to this question. The first answer would be to take the leap and tell them what you feel. The second would be to hide your feelings because they may not reciprocate it, which would inevitably cause the downfall of the friendship.

And you had taken the latter personally. You would rather take this secret to your grave than lose your friendship with Cordelia.

The word scary doesn’t even describe it. The thought of losing Cordelia over your stupid crush is downright terrifying. You’ve heard things like this before. Someone confesses that they like their best friend. The best friend does not like them in that way, starts to feel awkward around them ending in their friendship slowly breaking apart.

So you do what you think best – bury it. Bury it deep into the ground in hopes that nobody would ever find it.

But what happens when you bury your feelings?

They grow.

Burying your feelings doesn’t mean you get to avoid the woman too, after all, there were only a few of you in the academy and you didn’t want to add to the load Cordelia carries after her mother abandoned her doing who knows what.

It was overwhelming, to say the least when you can’t voice out what you truly feel. Then you had started scribbling metaphors that reminded you of her, even lyrics of a song that makes you think of her. From there, your scribbles had quickly become short stories, poems, songs. It made everything feel less suffocating.

You wouldn’t let your eyes stay too long on her or let yourself get lost in her eyes, in her touch. When you catch yourself do after fighting incredibly hard not to, you would shake your head and the thoughts away. There was one time where you couldn’t help yourself, and when you finally tore your gaze away from her – you found Myrtle looking at you with knowing eyes.

She couldn’t have known, can she?

Months passed, and the silly crush turned into something deeper. You couldn’t help it, it was hard not to fall for Cordelia when she was an embodiment of sunshine, of all things warm that make you feel fuzzy inside. Among the many beautiful things about the woman, her innate thoughtfulness had always fascinated you. You don’t know a person as kindhearted as her.

When a chance to get away with it all arose, you didn’t second guess it and grabbed it right away. Apparently, you had a relative somewhere in Europe that you didn’t know existed until now, and wanted to take you in.

You didn’t want to leave Cordelia per se, but if you had stayed longer by her side you feared you’ll be doing something stupid sooner or later.

Oh, and you did. You just didn’t know it yet. And neither did Cordelia.

The woman had set up a surprise farewell party for you at the academy. Everybody was there, all the girls that you had considered as sisters, as well as Myrtle.

Later that night, you found Cordelia sitting on the front porch. You sat by her side, and she didn’t need to turn to know it was you as she leaned her head on your shoulder.

“I’ll miss you. Don’t you dare forget about me,” she whispered as she closed her eyes.

You took your time before you answered. “How can I?”

Because deep down, although most of the reason you were leaving was to get away with your feelings, you knew you couldn’t. That this is just you being a coward to face it.

Silence hung around and you slightly turned your head to look at her. She was asleep. A single tear fell from your eye as you etch Cordelia’s features to your mind. Tomorrow, you wouldn’t be able to see her beautiful face.

Before you could stop yourself, you had pressed a kiss on top of her head. A silent gesture which you poured with every fiber of your being.

You had thought that parting with Cordelia was the most awful day of your life. It turns out that it was only second to this day.

The day you see your best friend, the only woman you loved your whole life walk down the aisle to the man she was about to spend the rest of her life with.

Tears were free-falling from your eyes as you clap your hands at the couple. Other people would have perceived that as happiness for your friend, but that certain feeling was far from your heart. Right now, it may even be impossible to feel that anymore.

So you let your tears out and force a smile for everyone to believe. This was Cordelia’s day and you wouldn’t want to ruin it.

Cordelia had requested you to sing and though you would rather hide from everyone, you couldn’t deny her. You didn’t care if the song you picked isn’t appropriate for the moment. For once in your life you let yourself go.

Girl, it should be me

Driving to your house

Knocking on your door

Kissing you on the mouth

Hank and Cordelia were dancing to the music, Cordelia looking at her husband’s eyes with such love and adoration you can’t even look away as you wished it was you instead.

Holding on your hand

Dancing in the dark

Cause I was the only one who loved you from the start

But now when I see you with him

It tears my world apart

Your mind was in a haze but it always comes back to the moment you felt your heart ripped out of your chest, crushed to a thousand pieces, and your soul was taken out from you leaving you with a hollow pit of nothingness.

Because I’ve been waiting

All this time to finally say it

But now I see your heart’s been taken

And nothing could be worse

Baby, I loved you first

Cordelia had called for you in her dressing room wanting to talk to you. You had arrived in New Orleans just yesterday, so this was the first time after five years you’ll see each other again. And what a reunion it was.

The minute you opened the door, Cordelia had thrown herself into your arms.

“Easy, tiger. You’ll ruin your dress,” you sighed as you embraced her back.

“How do I look?” She twirled, a smile never leaving her lips as she waits for you to answer.

“You look stunning, Delia. You always have been.”

Her smile got even wider, satisfied with what she heard. She sat at the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to her. You follow her, and she takes your hands in hers.

“Anyway, I just wanted to thank you. I don’t know when will I have a chance to tell this any later, so here it goes. Thank you for being there with me from the start, for being my best friend. Aside from Auntie Myrtle, you were the only thing that kept me grounded when… mother left. Well, you know the rest of the story,” she breathed, stood up, and checked her dress in the mirror again.

“Did you know that I liked you?”

You shrugged. “Um, yes? If you didn’t, I wouldn’t be your best friend, Delia.” You didn’t know where this conversation was headed, but you savored the moment you had alone with her.

“No, silly. I meant… I loved you. But I was scared of ruining our friendship so I kept it to myself. I didn’t know what I would do when you left, but then I met Hank. You should meet him, I’m sure you’ll like him…”

Suddenly, the room felt so cold as your whole body shivered. You zoned out on what Cordelia was saying, your mind lingering on the fact that she had reciprocated your feelings. They were mutual all this time, and you had been drowning by your own fears that you didn’t see it. But you guess so did she.

Had my chances

Could’ve been where he is standing

That’s what hurts the most

Girl, I came so close

“I loved you too. I love you still, Cordelia.” was what you’d like to say but fought against it. It was too late for that. A knock on the door saved you from the inevitable lie that would pour from your mouth. They were now ready for the bride.

But now you’ll never know

Baby, I loved you first

Thankfully you finished your performance without your voice breaking. Cordelia had sent a grateful smile from Hank’s shoulder as you finished. Liquor was the first thing you looked for after your performance, heading straight to the bar to request something hard. Myrtle went your way, and she could only give you a pitiful smile.

“I can’t stay for longer, Myrtle. I don’t think I can.”

“I know, my dear. As much as I want you back in the coven, I won’t let you suffer.”

She pulled you into a hug. “Thank you. Send my regards to the newlyweds.”

You gave one last look at Cordelia, hoping to find her eyes already at yours. But it wasn’t. She was busy laughing at whatever joke Hank had said. At least your last memory of Cordelia was her smile.

A lifetime could have been waiting for you if only one of you had dared to make a move.

[writethelifeyouwant]

Aversion Therapy

Summary: Y/N has been institutionalised for sex addiction at an experimental facility, run by Dr. Sam Winchester.

Pairing: Doctor!Sam x Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: Sex addiction, addiction therapies, abuse of therapist/patient relationship, noncon roleplay Tags: hair pulling, crotchless panties, degradation (like, a lot), blow job, spitting, pussy spanking, sex on a desk, body writing, p in v, pulling out Word Count: 4.5 k Created for: @samwinchesterbingo - Doctor!Sam | @spnkinkbingo - Crotchless Panties | @anyfandomgoesbingo - Hair Pulling | @j3bingo - Diary

A/N: So I this may or may not be one of the dirtiest things I've ever written. It's definitely up there in the list 😅I hope you enjoy, fellow sinners!

October 24th

Last night was awesome. He took me out to dinner and everything, real gentleman, even though we both knew that’s not what the night was about. It was sunset when we got up to the lookout, all romantic. I felt silly that he was making such a big deal about it. Losing your virginity shouldn’t be so much pressure. Now it’s over I don’t feel any different except that I want more. We went twice last night but that still wasn’t enough. I touched myself this morning and it was almost like I could still feel him inside of me. I think tonight I’m gonna let him do it without the condom, so he will still be inside me tomorrow morning.

“What the hell are you doing?” you shout, outraged. It wasn’t enough that your parents had locked you in this place, humiliating you, betraying you, handing you over to Doctor Judgy, but they’d handed over your diaries too. Fucking great. Dr. Winchester ignores you and keeps reading, skipping ahead a few weeks.

November 15th

Fuck I love sex. Even with guys that aren’t great at it it’s still worth it just to have a cock inside me. I wish I could stay the night somewhere without my parents freaking out. I want to fall asleep with a cock inside me the whole time, wake up to it fucking me, keeping me open. College is gonna be the best. Then I can finally do what I want, fuck who I want. Can finally order a freaking vibrator without mom asking what’s in the package. Ugh, I can’t wait.

Sam’s voice sounds unnatural reading out your words. He’s not putting the right emotion or inflection in them. It’s like he’s taunting you with them. There’s a trace of humour underlying everything he says.

“Why are you doing this?” you shout again, and Sam looks up at you from your diary, a smug smile on his lips.

“Because you’re sick, Y/N,” he states it like an obvious fact, shutting the diary with a loud clunk and waving it back and forth. “These are the words of an addict.”

“I’m not an addict,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. Sam raises his eyebrows at you and flicks open your diary again, thumbing through to a page he has marked with a turned down corner.

February 3rd

That’s it, I’m addicted to cock. I need it more than coffee or air or food. I just want to be on my knees all day and let men use me. I want them in my mouth, in my pussy, even in my ass, I don’t care. I just want them. One day I’ll figure out how to make that happen.

Sam gives you an accusatory look as he closes the diary again, and you do have the good sense to look a little sheepish. Having your thirsty words read back to you is embarrassing. Especially considering the man reading them out is extremely attractive. If you’d met him when you were out you would have been on him in a heartbeat.

You can’t help it, your eyes drop to his crotch, which is just below your eye level where he’s leaning against the front edge of his desk. Dr. Winchester notices your gaze and smirks down at you knowingly. The expression makes him even hotter – domineering and sexy.

“You really are a little slut. Get carted off to rehab and the first thing you do is eye up your therapist,” he clicks his tongue disappointedly, and you blush for a moment before you decide that you don’t want to take this shit from him.

“So what,” you shrug, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms. Dr. Winchester raises a brow again, surprised by your boldness.

“You don’t think it’s inappropriate to think about your therapist in a sexual manner?” He pushes himself off his desk and settles his hands in his pockets, considering you carefully.

“I like cock, so what?” you say again defiantly. The doctor keeps his expression neutral, walking around his desk and sitting down, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down a few things. You watch him suspiciously, wanting to know what he was writing down. “I’m not crazy, I just really like sex.” Dr. Winchester nods and keeps writing, not looking up at you.

“Come on, are you saying you don’t like sex?” you try to rile him up, and you see a small laugh bleed through his careful exterior, but not the kind of reaction you were hoping for. “What, your manhood not measure up or something?” That gets the doctor’s attention. He shoots you a glare over his desk and puts aside his pen, folding his hands in front of him and staring you down. His eyes drag across you from top to bottom, lingering on your lips, your neck, your cleavage, your legs. You like him looking at you like this, it sends a thrill through your chest, settling in the pit of your stomach.

“I can see that your attitude is going to make traditional therapies somewhat difficult.” You roll your eyes, but let him keep talking. “Have you heard of aversion therapy?” You shake your head shortly. “Aversion therapy is a psychological treatment in which the patient,” Dr. Winchester gestures to you, “is exposed to a stimulus while simultaneously being subjected to some form of discomfort, in an attempt to discourage said behaviour.”

“Um, English, please?” you stare at the doctor blankly, not putting together how this is going to apply to you.

“Well,” Dr. Winchester leans back in his chair, and swings his legs up onto his desk and brings his hands to fold in his lap. It makes him look surprisingly casual - not at all the image you had of doctors and therapists in your mind. “In this case, the stimulus is an unwanted behaviour, your over zealous sexual cravings and actions. We need to introduce an element of discomfort or unpleasantness into your experience of that behaviour, to discourage future indulgences,” he explains.

“What are you gonna do, Doctor?” you sneer at his title. “Put me in an electroshock chair and make me watch porn? Newsflash - that sounds amazing,” you scoff. Honestly, if that’s going to be your therapy, you’ll drop the attitude and sign the fuck up right now.

Dr. Winchester shakes his head, a small smirk on his lips. He stands, removing his jacket and tossing it on the back of the chair, then proceeds to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves and roll them back, one at a time. You watch him suspiciously. The moment his jacket came off your head went straight to one conclusion, but that couldn’t be right. You find your eyes lingering on his forearms, the veins in them pulsing visibly just below the surface of his skin. You want to lick them.

“No you’re right, you’d enjoy that far too much.” The doctor’s voice brings you back to yourself and you look up, watching him slowly approaching your chair. “We won’t be associating a physical discomfort with the addiction, what we want is to alter your mental associations towards the behaviour. We’ll use a series of mantras, and repetition and after a period of good, focused work, we can start to transition you back to a home environment.” His hand comes up to grip the back of your wooden chair, right beside your ear, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body against your skin despite the several inches still separating you.

Between your legs, you can feel how much Dr. Winchester’s proximity is beginning to affect you. For some reason the way he’s speaking to you, so formal and condescending, is really turning you on. You bet if he knew, he’d just say it was another sign of your “addiction”. You can feel your panties starting to get a little slippery when you shift in your seat to look up at him, and you don’t manage to stifle your small intake of breath when the open crotch of the underwear accidentally catches on one of your pussy lips, sending a delicious tug of pain into your core.

Dr. Winchester smirks down at you, entirely unsubtle, probably assuming that gasp was your reaction to him being so near.

Finally, after far too long staring at him, you manage to take a breath and ask- “what exactly is my therapy going to be, then?” Your voice comes out much higher than you’d anticipated, and you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Dr. Winchester’s hand drags along the top of the chair and lands on the back of your neck. You shiver when his skin touches yours, despite its warmth. His fingers wind themselves into your hair a second later and yank hard, pulling your head over the back of the chair so you’re forced to look straight up at him.

“Ow! What the hell?!” You reach behind you to try to break his grip but he just pulls again. The pain sends a new tendril of desire twisting down your spine to between your legs, and you feel your panties getting even wetter. You whimper, your arousal clearly evident to the doctor, who laughs.

“Yeah, I knew you’d be too into pain for that kind of thing to work,” he chuckles darkly. He bends down, face so close to yours you can feel his breath ghost against your cheek. “So here’s what we’re going to do instead. I’m gonna fuck you, but you’re going to make sure you don’t enjoy it. You’re going to cry and yell and beg me to stop.” He practically growls, nose brushing against yours, lips hovering just out of reach.

Your pussy clenches at his words, aroused beyond belief at the disdain he’s treating you with. You struggle against his grip deliberately, relishing in the renewed sting as his hand pulls your hair even tighter to keep you still.

“You really don’t get it, do you Dr. Winchester,” you try to laugh but your throat is taut and your air isn’t quite flowing easily enough to let you. “I like cock. I wanted you to fuck me the second I saw you. There’s nothing you could say or do that would make me want you to stop.”

“I think we can drop the formalities now,” he releases you, standing up and reaching for his belt. “It’s Sam, not ‘Doctor Winchester’.”

Your eyes drop to his hands immediately, watching his fingers deftly push his button through its hole and pull down his zip. He’s already hard, you can tell by the tent in his boxers, but you’re astonished to see when he pulls himself out that he’s actually only semi hard – his cock is just huge. You feel your mouth and your pussy water in equal measure.

“Fuck,” you whisper as he starts to stroke himself, eyes tracing up and down your body hungrily as he does so.

“You want this cock, Y/N?” he asks pointedly, and you nod mutely. “Use your words then.”

“Yes,” you breathe instantly, dropping to your knees on the hard, grey carpet in front of him.

“Then you don’t get it,” Sam smirked, contradictorily walking himself closer to you as he speaks, hand still pumping his cock.

“Please?” you beg, hoping that’s the game he’s trying to play. Maybe he thinks he can humiliate you enough that you won’t want to repeat the experience – he’s going to be wrong.

“Nope.” Sam pops the ‘p’ on the word teasingly. “Your mantra for today is ‘no’.”

“What?” you look up to him, confused.

“Anytime I ask you if this is what you want – if you want my cock in your mouth, in your pussy, anywhere I want to put it – anytime I ask you if you want it, you have to say ‘no’,” he smiles down at you like some kind of evil genius, and you’re getting annoyed now that you find this so fucking hot.

“You want me to pretend you’re raping me? Sounds like you need therapy.” Sam laughs, not at all offended by your jab.

“We’re trying to condition a new response, Y/N,” he explains lightly, still jacking himself off maddeningly close to your lips. It takes every ounce of self control you have not to lean forward and suck him down on the spot. “If you want my cock inside you, then you have to tell me you don’t. And hopefully, with time, you’ll start to believe what you’re saying out loud. You’ll believe that you don’t need this, don’t want this.” He taps his cock against your lips and your tongue chases him immediately, reaching for a taste of the liquid you felt pooling on his tip.

“Uh, uh, uh,” he pulls himself away, tutting. “What do you say, Y/N?”

You swallow your pride and give him what he’s asking, though begrudgingly.

“No, please, don’t.” Your voice is monotone, lifeless – like how you used to read out loud in English class when the teacher called on you.

“C’mon, you know that’s not good enough. How are you going to believe yourself if I don’t believe you?” Sam walks closer again and sets his cock against your mouth lightly. “You wanna suck my cock, baby?”

“No,” you manage to choke out, and your hesitance to say the word must sound like hesitance to give him a blow job because Sam buys it, and the next moment he’s pushing the shiny, pink head past your lips, against your tongue; not stopping until he hits the top of your throat. He pulls back again, taking himself completely out of your mouth.

“You want it?” he asks again, grinning down at you.

“No,” you whimper, while inside every fibre of your body is screaming – yes!

“Good girl,” he groans as he pushes himself back inside, and you moan along with him. This time he doesn’t stop himself, fucking all the way into your throat until your nose is pressed against the skin of his stomach. “Fuck, you really are a cockslut,” Sam grunts above you, pulling back a little and starting to fuck your mouth in earnest. “You haven’t gagged once. Not many girls manage that with me.”

You believe him. Your jaw is already aching from the stretch of your lips around his girth but you savour the hurt. You love this; being on your knees for some guy you barely know with his cock shoved as far in as he can fit it. This is what you were made for, you know it, no matter how hard Sam’s going to try to talk you out of it.

He fucks your throat for a few more minutes, lulling you into a false sense of security. You’ve relaxed into it now, and you aren’t thinking about the therapy or the role play or any of it, you’re only thinking about his cock against your tongue, heavy and velvety and perfect. You cry out when he pulls away, taking in a shocked breath at the sudden emptiness.

“You want it back baby girl?” Sam asks breathlessly, and you allow yourself a moment to feel smug at how clearly affected he is by your ministrations.

“Please,” you beg, crawling towards him, forgetting your lines. Sam pulls away, disappointment evident on his face.

“Wrong answer, Y/N.”

“No!” you shout hoarsely, trying to correct yourself. “I mean no, please, no.”

“No,” Sam sucks in a breath, reaching to pull up his trousers like he’s going to put himself away. “No, I don’t think I believe you.”

“No, Sam, please!” you beg, reaching out for him. “I can do this,” you whisper, and Sam lets you take his cock in your hand, wrapping his fingers over yours and guiding your strokes. “Ask me again?”

“Do you want my cock, Y/N?” Sam raises an eyebrow.

“No,” you say firmly. “No, don’t make me do this.”

“Good girl,” he says again, his hand tightening over yours and using you to jerk himself off. “Do you want my cock, Y/N?”

“No,” you whine, trying to play into it even though your fingers start trying to jack him off faster of their own accord, your hands slipping together over the saliva you’d left behind.

“Do you want my cock in your pussy?” Sam growls, reaching his free hand out to snag your hair and pulling hard, causing you to shout out in delicious pain.

“No!” you squeal, trying to pull out of his hold, hoping you can act your way through this convincingly enough to get what you really want.

“No, whore?” Sam spits on you harshly, the wet striking you on the cheek and dripping down your chin.

“No,” you scream again as he pulls you off of the ground by your hair, throwing you forwards over his desk. Books and pads of paper go crashing to the ground. Pens scatter around you when your elbow hits the mug that was holding dozens of them.

“No?” you hear Sam scoff as he flips up the hem of your patient-issued uniform skirt, spotting the pair of crotchless panties you’re wearing beneath. “You’re telling me a slut like you, who gets put in an insititution for sex addiction, and decides to pack crotchless fucking panties, doesn’t want my cock stuffing her cunt full?”

“No, I don’t want it,” you moan, his words positively setting you on fire. Fuck, you want everything he’s saying and more.

“I don’t fucking believe you,” Sam spits between your legs, adding to the slick that must be visibly gathered there by now.

“No!” you cry out when he delivers a stinging blow to your pussy, palm landing right over the open slit of your panties. “No,” you sob out again as he continues to spank you, each hit making a sickly wet echo and sending a jolt of heat through your clit every time his fingers happen to catch it. “No, no, no,” you’re begging, even as you spread your legs wider and push your hips back into his hand, trying to angle yourself so he hits your small bundle of nerves more frequently.

“You’re fucking loving this aren’t you,” Sam is seething behind you. “I can feel how wet you are, you fucking whore. You want my cock now, huh? Want me to put all this slick to good use?” He dips his fingers into the crotch of your panties and comes away with his fingers drenched in your juices, which you see a moment later when he shoves them in your face, yanking you back by your hair again.

“See this slut? See how I can tell you’re lying to me? What’s all this for if it’s not to get you ready for my cock?”

“N–” you try to protest, needing him to believe you if you want to actually feel his cock inside you, but your words are cut off as he shoves his fingers into your mouth, making you lick yourself off his hand.

“That’s right, taste what a fucking embarrassment you are.” Sam lets go of your hair and from the corner of your eye you see his fingers reaching for one of the pens that you knocked onto the desk earlier. Pulling his fingers out of your mouth, he uncaps the pen and crouches down behind you, putting your pussy at eye level for him.

“I think we should let the world know just how much of a slut you really are.” You wonder what he means, feeling him draw a single line down your right buttock, then switching to your left and writing some words. “Now anyone who fucks you is gonna see my instructions, and know they have to leave a tally mark right here.” He slaps your ass hard where he had just drawn his own. “And every time you come back to me for a session with more tallies than you left with the last time I saw you, that’s just one more time you’re gonna have to go through this with me. To make sure we really break you out of this habit.”

You silently wonder how many guys there are in this hospital that you might want to fuck. He spanks you again and you clench, pussy convulsing at the threat and the thought of men keeping count of the cocks you’ve taken by literally writing it on your body. You feel a trickle of slick start to make its way down your thigh, and you know Sam must have noticed because he laughs darkly.

“You like the sound of that, don’t you? Are you already planning how to rack up your score as soon as I let you out of this office?” he sneers vehemently.

“No,” you shake your head, even though it’s entirely true. “No, I don’t want that, I promise, I don’t.”

“But you still want my cock?” Sam questions, and you feel the tip of his dick start to drag against you, up and down the slit of your panties.

“No, I don’t want it,” you insist, trying to keep yourself from pushing back onto him.

“Good girl, Y/N,” Sam pets at your lower back and braces himself as he starts to sink in. You both moan when he enters you, but to your chagrin he stops when he only has an inch or so inside. “You want me to keep going?” he pants, and you’re pleased to hear that he’s not as composed now that he’s got the head of his cock wedged between your legs.

“No,” you shake your head quickly, silently praying for him to continue.

“Very good,” he groans, and begins to thrust into you again; tiny, sharp motions to ease himself into you bit by bit.

“No, stop,” you whine without prompting, hoping to encourage him to go faster. He does. “No, no, no,” you chant until he’s sheathed himself completely inside you, his hips pressed firmly into yours, his hands squeezing around your waist possessively.

“No?” Sam asks teasingly, pulling out a little.

“No!” you cry again, and this time you do mean ‘no’ – you don’t want him to leave you. At your cry Sam pushes back in harshly, snapping his hips back against yours and moaning, the sound bubbling up deep from his chest. “No,” you try repeating the phrase, testing your theory, and you’re rewarded by Sam withdrawing and fucking back into you piercingly.

“Please stop, please,” you whimper, not able to stop yourself from rocking back into his thrusts as Sam starts a punishing pace.

“You fucking liar, you love this you little cockslut,” Sam grunts pointedly, taunting you.

“No,” you insist, still meeting him thrust for thrust. “No I don’t want this, I don’t want you!”

“You’re always going to want cock, always gonna beg for it.”

“No!”

“You want me to stuff you full everyday don’t you? Maybe more than that. I bet you’d sit under my desk all day with my cock in your mouth if I told you to,” he laughs, his harsh pace becoming even quicker. He’s not fucking you deeply now but that means that every time he pushes in the head of his cock punches hard against the sweet spot on the front of your pussy, making you clench around him.

“No,” you shudder, feeling yourself close to the brink of your release, and you wonder what he’ll do when you cum – a clear demonstration that you’re fucking loving this, despite what you’re saying out loud.

“Say it louder, bitch,” he grunts, reaching down and spanking hard against your clit.

“No, no, stop!” you shout, desperately trying to fuck yourself on his cock, your orgasm just out of reach.

“You want to cum on my cock?” Sam slaps you again but then starts to rub tiny circles just where you need them.

“N–no,” you stutter, unable to hold back your moan.

“You don’t want to cum baby, you sure?” he teases, angling his hips so he’s fucking your sweet spot with each drive into you.

“No,” you whine, voice pitching higher as you feel yourself right there.

“No?” You can hear from Sam’s voice that he’s pouting at you, mocking you. “You don’t want to cum baby? Not gonna cum on my big, fat cock fucking you so good?” You clench around him, your toes curling, straining… “Come on you little slut, fucking cum already. Thought whores like you were supposed to be easy? Huh? Want you to cum for me, Y/N.”

“No, no, no, no, no–” you lose track of what you’re saying as you cum, screaming into your arm so you don’t accidentally say something to make Sam stop fucking you. Thankfully, he doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your orgasm and your come down, hips snapping more and more erratically as you bury your face in his desk and try to catch your breath.

Suddenly, the weight of his body is gone, and then there’s a warm jolt between your legs, and you know he’s cumming – aiming his load at the top of your panties and letting it drip down through the open crotch. You moan high in your throat at the feeling of his release soaking into your underwear, mixing with your own juices, which are already leaking out of you and dripping onto his desk.

“That was a really good session, Y/N,” Sam says, and you’re surprised to hear how composed he sounds, though a little breathless. “I think this is going to be a good strategy for you.” He walks around to the other side of his desk and starts to pick up the books and papers you’d knocked down earlier.

Slowly, you peel yourself up off his desktop, your skin sticking to the surface with sweat that’s already started to dry.

“Go clean yourself up, Y/N,” Sam instructs, not looking at you as he continues to tidy his desk. You turn to go, still in your post-orgasmic daze, but you spin back around when Sam calls your name again. “Oh, and Y/N?” you look at him curiously, and a smirk curls slowly across his lips as you watch. “You better keep the tally marks, or there’ll be consequences next session.”

“Yes, Dr. Winchester,” you agree quietly and slip out of his office into the hallway, walking back to your room behind an orderly, with Sam’s cum still dripping down your thighs. You think about the tally he’d left on your body, and you look up at the orderly, who’s now stopped at the door to your room and holding it open for you.

As you pass him, you keep your eyes trained at the ground, and glance sideways to surreptitiously inspect the man next to you. The hospital scrubs do nothing to hide his endowment. You smile brightly, bringing your eyes up the rest of his body, taking in the muscles in his arms and the name tag on his chest, before landing on his face.

“Thanks, Dean.” You walk into your room, eyes flicking back to see Dean still standing there, watching you walk towards your bed. You bend over to grab something off the bottom shelf of your nightstand, not caring what you grab, just knowing that you’re now giving Dean a full display of your ass – Sam’s writing and Sam’s cum decorating your skin.

The door behind you shuts quietly.

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[happyandticklish]

Disarming Your Demons

Notes: Okay, so I’m only halfway through Jujutsu Kaisen, but I had an idea and I had to write it down. I’m not sure if I’m gonna write anything else for it until I actually finish the show, but I said that before and now this exists, so who knows really. 

Summary: Itadori discovers a new method to deal with misbehaving curses. 

Sharing a body with a thousand-year-old curse could have its downfalls, something Itadori was quickly becoming familiar with. Though he could control it most of the time, it was difficult, and took a strain on his mind and body. He put on a brave face afterwards, insisting that it was no big deal, but the truth was anything but. Sukuna’s ability to switch out with him was growing stronger, and the exhaustion was setting in faster now with each time Itadori wrestled back control over his body. In the heat of battle was one thing, edged on by desperation and the will to keep his friends alive. But it was the other times, when Itadori was tired and vulnerable and fully unprepared to battle his literal inner demons, that he regretted the lifestyle most.

Say, for instance, in his dorm room, half-asleep and dreary from a battle earlier that day.

“Hello again.”

Switching out with Sukuna was strange. He didn’t feel it in a physical sense, no pain or sensation inflicted upon him. One moment he was in his body, and the next he was trapped, a helpless bystander to the other’s will.

“You know, it’s awfully bold of those teachers of yours to leave you all alone like this at night.” Sukuna stood, stretching his arms above his head in satisfaction. “Do they really put so much stock in you to assume you’d be able to fight me, like this?”

“Sukuna.” Itadori’s voice was inaudible to anyone who might be passing by, an aimless thought floating around in his consciousness, but he knew the other could hear him nonetheless. “Give me back my body!”

“Please,” Sukuna dismissed, waving one hand as he strolled around the dorm, examining objects with a vague curiosity. “After you used me earlier? I’m growing rather tired of this dynamic, you know. Only ever summoning me when you need your friend healed, or a new big baddie rears its odious head. Then, afterwards, you hide me away without so much as a thank you.”

“I do appreciate your help,” Itadori started carefully, trying to keep his tone neutral. It was difficult though, when the other could easily read his true thoughts. “But you can’t expect me to simply hand my body over like some kind of puppet. I know what your true intentions are, and I won’t let you harm my friends or anyone else.”

“Oh, of course not, not heroic, selfless Itadori.” He placed a hand on the doorknob, twisting it and pushing the door open with one hand. “I wonder what would happen if I went to pay them a little visit now?”

“No!”

“Oh? Don’t like that, do you. Then why don’t you do something about it? Force me back, take over your body once more.” Sukuna chuckled dryly, pausing in the doorway. “If you can, that is. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the toll this is taking on you. Do you really think you have the strength to best me now, when you’re tired and weak from battle?”

Itadori tried, he really did. He knew he had to do this, but Sukuna was right. In his current state, he could hardly focus enough to remain present enough to speak to the other, let alone reclaim his physical form. With his last remaining willpower, he managed to gather enough strength to take control of one arm before he found himself blocked by the other. 

Sukuna’s eyes widened, and then he laughed, a throaty, derisive thing that made Itadori clench the fist he had. “One arm? Is that it? You truly are in for it now. I must say, I am impressed though. I didn’t think you had even that in you. Still, it’s no matter. I could end your world as you know it with both my hands tied behind my back. This pathetic defense is but a pebble in my path. I must thank you for the amusing display though—I needed a good laugh.”

Itadori watched helplessly as his body moved forward against his will, his mind racing as he tried to think of anything he could do in his position.

I needed a good laugh.

That was it!

Itadori would have smiled if he could use his mouth. An idea was formulating in his mind, crazy and nonsensical, but possibly just the thing he needed. It was a method that Gojo had employed once, to train him to focus on maintaining curse energy and resist distractions. He had no idea if the same thing would work on Sukuna, but seeing as he was in his body and therefore should be just as susceptible as Itadori had been, it just might work.

Sukuna stopped short as a jolt of sensation shot through him, and he snapped his head down to see his own hand squeezing his hip. “What the hell?”

“Ha! I didn’t think it would actually work!” Itadori’s voice rang out triumphant through the other’s mind as he squeezed again and again, quick and sudden so that Sukuna had no time to adjust to them. “Who knew that my own ticklishness would come in handy one day?”

“Tickli—what?” Sukuna started in confusion, but quickly slapped his other hand to his mouth to hold back… was that laughter?

He stumbled back against the wall, torn between shoving the other’s hands away and holding back the embarrassing noises leaking between his fingers. It was in times like these that he missed his four arms. It was hard enough to work with only two arms—one was impossible.

“W-What are you d-dohoing?” Sukuna grunted, trying to sound intimidating despite the silly grin quickly taking hold of his features.

“Tickling you, duh.” It was weird tickling his own body, and weirder still to have the sensation disconnected from him. He could feel the AC in the hallway on his arm, and the warmth of his hip under his hand, but that was all. It was disconcerting, but Itadori was grateful for it in this moment. He wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to continue if he could feel everything the other was feeling. He could only imagine how Sukuna was managing to stop himself from collapsing into an Itadori-sized puddle of laughter on the ground. “Haven’t you ever heard of tickling before?”

“I-Is that some k-kind of hihidden Jujutsu?” Sukuna snapped angrily, annoyed at the chuckle that had slipped into his words halfway through.

Laughter rang through his head, unhelpfully as Sukuna tried to hold back his own. “Dude, what? Of course not! Tickling is… well, it’s a human thing you know? When you lightly touch the human body, like this—” he scribbled his fingers up his sides suddenly—“They laugh! I’m not sure why though… science is still a bit iffy on that.”

Sukuna had stopped listening at this point. He had burst into panicked giggles the second Itadori touched his side, unprepared for the other’s change in strategy. Sukuna’s hand come down, wrapping around his wrist and pulling it up, away from his sides.

He drew in an exhausted breath, grinning in relief as he held the other firmly away from him. “There. Your… tickling, or whatever it is, is ineffectual now. Seems like you didn’t think this plan through, did you now?”

He was right. It was a temporary solution, but the truth was that Itadori was going to get nowhere with just one hand. Which was why…

Sukuna’s eyes widened as he felt a sudden pull at his person once more. His body was rebelling, and he fought back, trying to push back at Itadori’s attempt to switch back. He was getting stronger now, and Itadori was still weak, so it should be nothing to keep control from the brat. What he hadn’t expected was for Itadori to focus all his energy on reclaiming a single part of his body, leaving Sukuna unprepared for the concentrated force. He felt his fingers slipping on his wrist, his left arm losing connection just like the first one had.

“No!” Sukuna growled, but it was too late. Both arms were lost to him now, and he knew if Itadori could, he would be smirking.

“Yes,” Itadori countered. Surprisingly enough, he kept his one arm raised. He lowered the other one, poising his fingers under his arms and wiggling them in the air threateningly. “I remember this always being one of my worst spots. Unfortunately for you, I’m afraid.”

Sukuna narrowed his eyes in confusion, but before he could say anything he was stopped by the sensation of nails gently spidering under his arm. It was a slow, unhurried process, that never missed its mark. Instinct shot through him like a bullet and Sukuna attempted to bring his arm down protectively. He was stopped by the other’s remaining control of the limb, which kept it raised exposed and vulnerable over his head. It didn’t help that Itadori hadn’t worn a shirt to bed the previous night, so Itadori had full access to his bare torso.

Sukuna spluttered over a laugh, a hysterical cackling that only grew in desperation as time went on. Sparks flurried through him, his stomach erupting with what felt like millions of butterflies all taking off at the same time. It was impossible to explain how unbearable the feeling was, and Sukuna wondered how humans lived with such a weakness on their body all this time.

“A-Ahaha, stahahahap, eh, gah, stahahahap i-ihihit!” Sukuna’s head was thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut as a wild grin danced along his features. “Y-Yohohou irritahahating b-brahat!”

“Intense, right?” Itadori asked, not even trying to hide the amusement in his voice. “If only you had chosen a less ticklish vessel. You’re in for it now, though. I got to be honest, it’s kind of funny seeing a bigshot curse like you writhing around like a worm on a hook.”

“Shuhuhut uhuhuhup!” Sukuna demanded, though it came out far more giggly than he would have liked. He couldn’t concentrate like this, couldn’t even begin to start to try to reclaim his arms. He needed him to move his hand, maybe back to his hips, or somewhere else, anywhere else. He wasn’t sure if the rest of this body was less ticklish, only that he needed Itadori to move away from that spot.

“Not a chance,” Itadori scoffed. “This is way too much fun! Of course, you could always stop me. Just switch back and the tickling won’t affect you anymore; it’s that easy.”

“L-Lihihike hehehell Ihihihihi wihihihill!” He was slipping now, his body sliding down the wall in an attempt to get away. Unfortunately, you can’t run away from yourself, and those wiggling fingers followed him all the way down. “Cuhuhut ihihit ohohout wihihihith thahahat sphohohot!”

“Why?” Itadori asked innocently, loving this a bit too much for his own good. But could he really help it when he was given such a perfect oppurtunity for revenge? “Does it tickle too much for the big bad curse?”

Sukuna was going to kill him. Then, once he was sure the pest was well and truly dead, he was going to bring him back to life so he could kill him all over again. Right now, however, his focus was only on those devastating nails, light, barely-there touches that had his mind reeling. When his fingers traveled a bit too high, skittering at the top of his armpits, he finally gave in. “Yehehehes, ohohokay, ihihit tihihihickles, ohohor whahahatever y-yohou cahahalled ihihit! Sohohomewhehere ehehelse!”

“Are you sure you want me to go somewhere else?” Itadori questioned teasingly, circling the area with just one finger. Sukuna ducked his chin into his chest, unable to hold back the flood of giggles that caused. “Really sure?”

“Y-Yohohou, ahaha, yohou lihihittle—”

“Okay, okay.” Itadori moved his hand away, pulling his other arm down. Sukuna exhaled in relief, an exhausted grin still dancing on his features. Unfortunately, Itadori noticed. “Hey, don’t relax just yet. I’m not done with you. After all, you still haven’t given me back my body, have you?”

“What the hell—noHOHO!” Sukuna burst into laughter anew as his arms wrapped around himself, trapping him in a tickly hug as fingers wiggled up and down his sides. “S-SHIHIHIT!”

“Regretting your words yet?”

Sukuna thrashed wildly, howling as he doubled over in a useless attempt to protect himself. The snarky remarks were gone now, so completely was he lost to his own laughter. His skin twitched and goosebumps scattered up his sides, a helpless reaction to the playful tickling.

Because it was playful. Despite everything, he could tell that Itadori was having fun with this. And maybe, just maybe, the other was too. His insides felt warm and fuzzy in a way they hadn’t in a while, his laughter peaking between desperation and silly giggles. It was strangely addicting to give in like this, allowing the tickling to consume his thoughts and blur out any remaining negativity.

It was… nice.

“I-IIHIHITADORI!” His head was thrown back, a hearty flush spreading across his cheeks and warming his skin. “I-IHIHI CAHAHAN’T!”

“You know how to stop this,” Itadori reminded him. “Just switch back and the tickling stops.”

Sukuna fell back on the floor, unable to hold himself up against the relentless tickling. He let out a frankly embarrassing squeak, the sensations breaking through the last of his revolve. And finally, at last, he caved in.

With a start, Itadori felt the other ducking back into himself, releasing his body in the process. He stopped wiggling his fingers, sitting up slowly as he regained control of himself once more. He was sweaty and exhausted, like he’d just ran a marathon, and he could feel that familiar floating sensation in the pit of his stomach that came with being tickled.

“Damn brat,” Sukuna complained from inside him, and Itadori smiled fondly. He would have to remember this method for next time.

“What the hell?”

Itadori startled as a voice shot through his thoughts, and he glanced up to see Megumi standing in the hallway. He was still in pajamas, and his hair was sticking out in several directions. The look on his face implied he’d just woken up. The two made eye contact, Megumi taking in Itadori’s flushed features and his sprawled position on the floor.

Megumi furrowed his brows in confusion. “Itadori? I heard a noise and I thought… are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” Itadori dismissed, sitting up slowly. “I was… sleep-walking. Yeah, that’s it. Just a weird dream, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

Megumi continued to stare at him for a moment, clearly debating whether or not to believe the other. Finally, he sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “Alright. If you say so. Just keep it down next time, will you? Some of us are actually trying to sleep.”

Itadori threw the other a hearty thumbs-up, grinning innocently. “Will do!”

Megumi frowned, but eventually disappeared back into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Itadori stood up fully, his legs a little shaky from the previous tickling, and decided to do the same. It was the middle of the night after all—sleep was probably in order. However, as he turned the knob to shut the door behind him, he heard a voice loud and clear in his head.

“Sleep tonight, young sorcerer, and get your rest. Because tomorrow—” a sudden pinch to his side as Sukuna wrestled control of his hand—“it’s your turn.”

Itadori regained control almost instantly, and his hand was his again as though nothing had happened. He smiled nervously, not doubting the other’s words for a minute.

And as he got into bed that night, pulling the covers tight around himself, he found he couldn’t wait.

[bestiesenpai]

Hocus Pocus - Sukuna

Boil toil and trouble, let's make this cauldron bubble lol gender neutral reader no content warnings! This is a...I guess medieval sort of au lol Sukuna is a knight and there’s kings and queens and blah blah

“(Y/N)!” Shrill voices rang throughout​​ the empty stone walls, the pattering of little feet causing you to break your concentration from the glass vase you were holding over a smoking cauldron. Turning to the heavy wooden doors as they were thrown open, you held the vase in the air as two children scampered into the room and began to tug on your clothes.

“What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Laughing breathlessly, you looked down at the royal children that had decided to come spend time with you.

“We want to play!”

“Right now?” Taking a sweeping look over your messy workshop, you felt them begin to try and pull you from the room. “Alright, alright! Just a moment.” There was no stopping the children when they wanted something, especially from you.

Closing your spell books and setting down bubbling beakers, you pushed the kids out of the room, closing the door tightly behind you. Letting them guide you towards their playroom, you took a deep breath, pushing down the slight irritation growing from being pulled away from your work. There’s no way the King and Queen would appreciate you losing your temper or simply saying ‘no’, even if you did have studying to do to become a proper witch and not a simple apprentice.

Walking through the halls of the castle, you shared pleasant smiles with the more senior witches talking amongst themselves. Their robes were the rich and vibrant colors of the kingdom, a stark contrast to your plain black robe and a strong reminder of how far you still needed to go.

Coming upon the playroom, you winced as they threw open the door and made the metal knob bang against the stone wall and shocking the other occupant in the room.

“Sukuna! Sukuna! We got (Y/N) to play too!” They yelled, finally letting go of your robes as they ran to the intrepid knight who looked ridiculously out of place sitting on a tiny chair surrounded by stuffed animals in the light pastel room. He turned to you and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at how annoyed he seemed with the whole thing. He was still in his armor, so you figured the children had pulled him away in the middle of his business as well.

“Oh how fun.” Sukuna said, clearly less than enthused about this whole thing. His pink hair was sticking out in all sorts of directions and he ran his hand through it once more, the clinking of his cold and shiny armor differing greatly with the softness that filled the room.

The children paid him no mind, rushing further into the room and grabbing toys and throwing them into the middle of the room. Talking animatedly amongst themselves, you used the opportunity to slowly walk over to Sukuna.

“So, what were you doing when they got you?” You whispered, taking a seat next to him in another tiny chair.

“Fucking training.” Nudging the sword at his side, Sukuna let out a gruff sound. “As you know, a war might be brewing in the East and-”

“There’s always a war brewing.”

“Exactly!” Throwing his hands in the air, Sukuna missed the way you chuckled softly. “I don’t have time to entertain these brats, I don’t even know why they had me join!”

“I don’t understand how your fellow knights let you get away from them.” Sukuna was one of the castle's best knights after all, having been praised countless times by the King himself and bestowed with many medals and honors.

“They thought it was a joke! Thought it was funny to see the brats pulling me away and I couldn’t say anything.” He scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, it is a little funny to think about. The Great Sukuna defeated and captured by two eight year olds.”

He rolled his eyes, but you could see the small upward curve of his lips even though he tried to hide it. You were pleased to notice him relaxing a bit, willing to converse with you as the kids ran around, completely forgetting the two of you were even there. Sukuna was usually so stiff around you, talking in short sentences and barely looking in your direction; always preoccupied with the thought of battle.

“(Y/N)! Caspian won’t let me play with this thing!”

“I had it first!” You turned to see them fighting over one of the vials from your room, recklessly pulling it back and forth and nudging the cork out of place. The shimmering purple liquid sloshed inside, threatening to drip out of the glass and splash all over the two of them. Jumping up, you ran over to the kids before they could open the bottle by mistake and cause a disaster.

“Caspian! Give that to me now!” You yelled after pulling them away from each other. The boy shook his head, holding it away from you. You groaned, taking a deep breath before kneeling to him, holding your hand out. “Caspain, please, it’s very important that I get that back.”

“Kid, just hand it over.” No longer having the patience to deal with this, Sukuna got up from his seat, taking long strides over to you. He grabbed the boy’s wrist as gently as he knew how, attempting to yank the vial out of his hand, but Caspain tightened his grip.

“No, it’s mine!” A small struggle ensued between the two with Caspian pushing and squirming to try and get away and Sukuna attempting to be as merciful as possible to try and get the vial.

“It’s not yours and you know it. Return it.” Sukuna was growing more annoyed by the second. He could easily overpower this kid and end this silly squabble but if he was too rough there were sure to be consequences.

“Be careful, don’t spill it!” Standing off to the side, your eyes were focused on the vial, anxiety rising every time it was yanked from one side to the other. Your cries went ignored, drowned out by them shouting at one another.

“Here!” Pulling the cork out, Caspian hurled the vial right at Sukuna’s face, coating him in the liquid. The glass clattered to the ground, quickly getting crushed into tiny shards as Sukuna stumbled in shock.

“What the-” Wiping furiously at his face, Sukuna could hardly open his eyes. The liquid evaporated on his skin, leaving behind a tingling burn.

“Caspian!” You exclaimed, glaring at the boy and running to Sukuna. The pungent odor of the potion burned your nostrils and forced tears to well in your eyes.

“What is this stuff?” Biting back the swear that desperately wanted to come out, Sukuna looked blindly around the room.

“It’s- well-”

“Out with it!” Sukuna barked, shoving you away. He felt like he was going to vomit, head swimming as he fell to his knees.

“Sukuna has kitty ears!” Caspian’s sister, Caroline, shouted in surprise.

“No I don’t!”

“Yes you do!” She pushed but it went unheard, overshadowed by the pained scream that ripped out of Sukuna’s chest. Writhing on the ground for what felt like ages, the pain slowly subsided and he was left breathing raggedly.

“Hello?” Opening his eyes, Sukuna was shrouded in darkness. Fabric covered his face and body; they were his clothes, he could smell that much, but he had no idea where he was.

“Sukuna? Are you okay?” Tiptoeing over to him, you nudged the armor now sitting on the ground in the shape of what used to be Sukuna’s body. Tiny claws tapped against the metal and a pink haired cat's head popped out of the top opening.

“(Y/N)?”

“Oh my god.” You placed a hand against your chest in shock, watching in horror as Sukuna wrestled himself out of his armor, angrily cursing his new height without really looking at himself.

“Kitty!” Caroline yelled, immediately crowding him and trying to pick him up. Keeping her at arm's length, you scooped up Sukuna’s new cat form into your arms and held him tightly to you.

“Kitty?!” Sukuna yelled, looking down at his body being cradled by you. “(Y/N), what the hell happened?!”

“Uhm, well it seems Caspian threw a metamorphosis potion at you...” Trailing off, you winced as Sukuna let out a growing hiss.

“Is that why I’m a fucking cat right now?” You nodded pitifully and he groaned. “Fucking brats.” Giving the two of them a look, Sukuna pushed himself up on shaky arms and crawled up onto your shoulder, digging his claws slightly into you as he settled around your neck. “The King and Queen will be furious to know what you’ve done.”

“(Y/N) can fix it!” Caroline shouted, trying to save them both from getting in trouble.

“Um, I guess I-”

“No, no they can’t.” Sukuna cut you off, sitting up a little straighter and letting a smug grin overtake his face. “You know (Y/N) is only an apprentice, do you really think they can fix this?” Letting a pause fall over the conversation, Sukuna tilted his head, his ears tickling your cheek. “You know how hard magic is to control, what if no one can turn me back to a human? Your parents will be enraged knowing they lost their best warrior to a pair of little brats.”

“Okay!” Slapping his hands over his ears, Caspian stomped his feet a few times. “We’ll fix it! What do we have to do?”

“There’s a list of ingredients I need to reverse this spell.” Pulling out the pen and pad of paper you were required to always have on hand, you scribbled down a few random items without thinking too hard about it. “Go get me these by the end of the day and we’ll have human Sukuna back in no time!”

“Let’s go!” Grabbing her brother's hand, Caroline ran from the room, ripping the paper from your grasp as she went. The door to the playroom banged against the wall again as they exited and left you and Sukuna alone.

“Well now that they’re occupied for a bit, go ahead and change me back, (Y/N).” Jumping onto the ground, Sukuna shook his head side to side and sat on the ground, his long tail swishing back and forth lazily.

“About that…” Wringing your hands together painfully tight, you could barely look at Sukuna.

“What?” His eyes narrowed, sensing your hesitation.

“I just, well I-”

“Out with it!” A loud hiss spurred you into speaking, along with Sukuna arching his back angrily.

“I can’t do it! That potion the kids took was a fluke to begin with, I’m surprised it even changed you into a cat and didn’t just burn your eyebrows off!” God it felt embarrassing admitting that Sukuna had essentially been right when he was calling the kids bluff. There wasn’t much more you could do on your own other than light a candle with your mind and make paperclips levitate.

“Okay, it’s not that bad. We can get one of your seniors to do it.” Starting toward the door, Sukuna let out a shriek when you scooped him up.

“No, we can’t do that! They’ll never let me live it down!” Holding him tightly, you felt his claws dig into your arms and hands. “L-let me figure it out, please!”

“You just said you couldn’t do it, why would I let you ‘figure it out’ when I can get changed back within a few minutes?”

“Please, just let me try! I have to prove myself!”

“Is this really the time for that? There’s a war-”

“Sukuna, there’s always a war! That’s all you ever talk about!” Yanking his claws out of the skin of your arm, you huffed and tried to calm the burning of your cheeks. “Just give me until the end of the day, please? I can fix you by the end of the day.”

Breathing heavily as well, Sukuna raked his eyes over you. There wasn’t much he knew about you other than you were another fledging witch scouted by the kingdom and that this was the most you’d ever spoken to each other directly and not in a group setting. It wasn’t just Sukuna who was stiff in conversations, it was you as well.

“Fine.” Worming his way out of your hold and back onto the ground, Sukuna swiped at his face a few times to fix the fur around his eyes. “If I’m not a human by nightfall, I’m going to your mentor.”

“Deal.” Nodding your head in agreement, you gestured toward the door. “Shall we go back to my study?”

“Lead the way.” Falling into step next to you, Sukuna walked down the halls to a part of the castle he never really visited. While he was marveling at some of the magic happening behind doorways, you were worrying your lip and praying with every step you took that you could actually find a way to turn him back.

“Nice little shop you got here.” Sukuna commented upon coming to your study. Truly it was nothing more than a glorified broom closet, just enough space for a bookshelf, cauldron, a few shelves and a tiny desk shoved in the corner piled high with a mountain of notes you’d scribbled down late at night.

“Thanks.” Your room looked like all the other beginner witch's rooms, but it felt nice for Sukuna to compliment it all the same. Clearing off a space on the small table beside your cauldron for Sukuna to sit on, you went to the bookshelf to try and find a spell to turn him back.

Taking sneaking glances at you, Sukuna went up to the edge of the cauldron, sniffing the vapors that rose from the bubbling liquid. Curling his lip in disgust at the pungent odor, he hopped off the table. Too engrossed in your books, you set down​​ a few on the spot he’d previously been occupying.

“(Y/N), what’re these papers on your desk?” Glancing over, Sukuna had leapt onto the furniture, gently swiping his paw at some papers and making them slide from the messy stack they were in.

“Just some notes from my lessons, I have a test coming up in a potions class and I really can’t afford to fail.” Shaking your head bitterly at the upcoming deadline, you turned your attention back to the book in your hand.

Glancing over a few, Sukuna found that you were correct, there were scribbles on pages and in the margins of textbooks cramming all possible information into them.

“What’s this…?” Catching the first few letters of his name on a paper that was crinkled up and folded several times, Sukuna felt his curiosity grow greater and greater.

Struggling to open it with his new appendages, Sukuna eventually got it open. At first, he wasn’t sure where to look, there were love hearts dotting nearly every letter and a hundred exclamation points. As he read and deciphered the words on the page, he started to laugh to himself. The person who you’d been passing notes to was gushing about another knight named Okkotsu and his kind demeanor all while teasing you for liking none other than Sukuna.

“So (Y/N), you have a crush on me?” He asked loudly, just barely catching the slightest hesitation in your body at his question.

“What’re you talking about?” Fighting to keep your face neutral, you sprinkled a blue powder into the cauldron.

“This note here says you’ve had a crush on me since you arrived at the palace and I’m pretty confident this is your handwriting.” Sukuna could practically see your heart begin to race the longer he spoke and a grin overtook his face.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nervously clearing your throat, you shook your head and closed the book in your hand. Taking a glance at him, your face fell slightly at seeing his paw holding the note open.

“Really? No clue at all? Maybe I should read it out loud and jog your memory.” If Sukuna’s smile got any bigger it would rip his cheeks apart. “Now where should I begin? How about this line, ‘Sukuna is so sexy when he does training in the evening! I love that he never wears a shirt, you can see all his tattoos!’”

“Shut up!” Throwing the remaining objects in your hand onto the table, you lunged towards him and the note. Cackling with laughter, Sukuna snatched the paper into his mouth and leaped off the desk, running circles around you in the room.

“I’m so sexy, you want me to kiss you!” He teased you mercilessly as you chased after him, reciting every embarrassing word you wrote. “You love my morning voice when I pass by you at breakfast!”

“Sukuna! Stop it!” Your entire body was on fire the longer he went and frustrated tears welled in your eyes. It was bad enough you had a crush on the most popular knight in the kingdom but to have him know about it so deeply was another blow to your ego entirely. Grabbing your wand out of a robe pocket, you let out a small shout and pointed it at him, hoping that was enough to get him to stop.

And surprisingly it was; Sukuna suddenly froze all movement, hanging in the air above the cauldron that he was trying to leap over. Stomping over to him, you ripped the note out of his mouth and tore it to shreds, letting the pieces flutter to the ground at your feet. Glaring at Sukuna with glassy eyes, you mumbled a short incantation and released him from the spell, making him plop into the cauldron below.

Sukuna let out incomprehensible screams of terror as he splashed around in the cauldron, struggling to grab any sort of footing on the side and pull himself out.

“(Y/N)! G-get me out of here!” Coughing at the liquid entering his mouth, Sukuna hooked an arm around the edge of the cauldron and tried to pull himself up only to be burned by the hot metal.

“I’ll think about it!” Crossing your arms, you kept your back turned to him. His mocking words rang in your head over and over, nearly drowning out his frantic cries. Quickly growing tired of the noise, you grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him from the cauldron, letting him fall to the ground in a sopping wet mess of fur.

“Took you long enough!” Sukuna sputtered, shaking himself violently to try and dry off. Unable to fully look at him, you slammed open the book you’d had open before and leaned over it, blocking out the world around you and forcing the words on the page into your head.

“(Y/N), do you have a towel around here?” Your head nearly turned on instinct to answer Sukunas question, a small twitch in your neck almost giving way to a full turn. “Oh c’mon, don’t ignore me.” His paw swiped the back of your leg and you shook him off.

“(Y/N), stop being a baby.” Touching you again, Sukuna grunted and rolled his eyes when you fully stepped away from him. “(Y/N)! I’m freezing down here with this wet fur, quit fucking around.”

“Find one yourself.” You snapped at him, storming over to your desk and plopping down on the chair. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sukuna weighing his options, looking between you and the door behind him. You could almost see the gears turning in his head as he debated on what to say.

“If I apologize, will that make you feel better?” He asked, earning a snort from you and making a smirk pass briefly on his face. “The Great Sukuna doesn’t apologize often, so listen closely, okay?”

“I won’t hold my breath.” Rolling your eyes, you relaxed the tight crease in your brow and let your back straighten up a little, no longer hunching over the desk. Clearing his throat dramatically, Sukuna padded over with wet paws and stopped before your chair.

“I’m sorry I teased you about having a crush on me, but in my defense who wouldn’t be hopelessly in love with me?”

“Is that really your apology?” Biting your lip to stop a burgeoning smile, you forced your eyes back on your paper.

“What do you want me to say? Oh (Y/N), please forgive me for learning about your everlasting love for me, I’ll conquer a hundred enemy fortresses if that’s what it’ll take!” Swaying side to side dramatically, Sukuna laughed as he made a chuckle force it’s way past your lips.

“Fine, I guess I’ll forgive you.” Rolling your eyes once more, you did a quick wave of your hand and a sharp gust of wind went over Sukuna, drying his fur in an instant.

“Just like new.” Walking in a few circles, Sukuna surveyed his body and without warning, jumped into your lap, making space for himself and looking over the book you were reading.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Adjusting in your chair, you had to move Sukunas bobbing head out of the way several times to continue to read. “Sukuna, do you even know how to read this?” The book was written in strange symbols only able to be read and understood by those imbued magical prowess.

“No, but it’s pretty interesting to look at.” Shrugging his shoulder, he let his chin rest on the edge of the pages. Quietly reading over the book, you had to shuffle Sukuna in your lap a few times, adjusting him over and over again until you were practically cradling him with one arm and turning pages with the other.

“I could get used to this.” Sukuna yawned loudly, a purr rumbling from his chest. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that his heavy, muscular feline form had made your arm fall asleep and become completely dead to the world.

A few minutes later and a soft snoring filtered out of Sukuna, a gentle sound to fill the room bathed in warm afternoon sun. The tiny window above your desk showed a sliver of the outside world, overgrown trees skirting the edge of the window pane and attempting to obstruct your view of distant mountain ranges.

Forcing deep breaths through your nose, you couldn’t stave off the drowsiness creeping into your body as well. Every blink made your eyelids heavier and the words on the page began to blur together until you couldn’t fight sleep anymore and let your head lean against the chair, joining Sukuna in a light afternoon nap.

It was you that woke up first, thirty minutes later and with a foggy mind. Surprisingly, Sukuna hadn’t woken up from the sound of a door slamming closed across the hall, still sleeping soundly as ever in your arms.

Looking over him, you noticed the markings across his face and body, tattoos that carried over from his human form. Tracing your finger along his face, you were enraptured by the soft fur that met your touch and continued along his body. Fully petting the length of Sukuna’s body, you prodded his soft, relaxed stomach and scratched gently with the tip of your nail.

“That feels nice.” He mumbled, barely awake and cuddling deeper into your side. Despite feeling embarrassed at being caught you kept going, expanding upwards and rubbing along his ribs and chest.

“Sukuna you’re so cute as a cat, are you sure you want to change back?”

“As much as I love being pet like this, I have a duty to my kingdom.” Stretching his legs out, Sukuna grunted like he was going to get up but gave up halfway, flopping back and letting out a soft sigh.

“You don’t seem to be in any rush to get back.” You chuckled, scratching behind his ears and smiling widely when he began to purr.

“Well…” Pushing his head against your hand, Sukuna shrugged. “They’ll be fine without me for a little bit.”

There was a pregnant pause before he spoke again,  filled with his loud purring and soft breathing. “You know, I haven’t slept this well in ages. Always too busy with training or going to battle.” Blinking his eyes slowly, Sukuna peered up at you. “Maybe I should become a witch like you, (Y/N), then I could relax like this all the time.”

“You’re kidding; me, relax? I’m constantly on edge, there’s so much pressure to break my back for the kingdom and become the strongest sorcerer.” Slumping against the chair, your head lolled back and you stared at the dark stone ceiling. “I’d love to trade places with you Sukuna, I want to know what it’s like to be so strong and confident all the time.”

“It’s pretty great, I won’t lie.” He mumbled under his breath and you laughed, jostling him around as you straightened up your spine.

“You’ll have to teach me sometime, okay?” Standing up and opening your arms, you haphazardly placed Sukuna on the desk and walked over to the cauldron, cracking the bones in your back and looking over the ingredients you’d put in so far. “Now, let’s turn you back into a human.”

“(Y/N).” Sukuna said your name slowly, hopping from the desk to the table by the cauldron and slinking past forgotten vials to settle close at your side. “Mind if I watch?”

“Why?” It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to but unless Sukuna was suddenly granted the gift of magic the recipe you were following would be of no use to him.

“I want to know what it’s like to be the smartest in the room.” Sukuna grinned at you, bumping his nose against your arm a few times.

“Shut up.” A light flush went over your face and warmed your cheeks, and a slightly impish smile pushed your cheeks up. The compliment warmed your heart just as much, making it beat faster in your chest.

“Shut up and take notes? Got it.” Nodding curtly, Sukuna squinted his eyes and stared intensely at your hands. Laughing wholeheartedly at how serious he looked, you did a dramatic wave of your hand and picked up a spellbook.

“Alright, watch and learn.”

Whether or not Sukuna was actually learning anything or truly paying attention was lost on you, but it was certainly fun having him so focused on you and your actions. Humming and nodding like he understood when you mumbled to yourself, Sukuna was acting just like you had when you first arrived at the palace with bright eyes and an eager mind.

“Try this.” Pouring a mixture into a jar, you tilted it back for Sukuna to drink from.

“Fucking disgusting!” Wrenching himself away, Sukuna spit the bright yellow liquid onto the ground and watched it sizzle. “Are you trying to poison me now?”

“Wha- but I was so sure that was the right one!” Scrapping the jar, you returned to the book. “Maybe I need spider legs after all…”

“You need me to go out into the garden and catch you some?” Still reeling from the rancid taste in his mouth, Sukuna glanced out the window. The light in the sky was beginning to wind down, it was almost dinner time and his stomach was starting to growl.

“No, I-”

“(Y/N)!” An all too familiar voice shouted your name and you got flashbacks to just a few hours before when your door was slammed open and two children ran inside.

“Oh great, the royal brats.” Snarling at the kids, Sukuna leapt up and onto your shoulder, curling himself around your neck and burrowing into the collar of your robes. Flinching away from him, Caroline and Caspian hesitantly showed you what was clenched tightly in their small hands.

“We got all the stuff on the list!” Caroline showed hers first, a handful of daisies and a small chunk of amethyst.

“Caroline was too much of a baby to get the other stuff.” Caspian huffed, extending his palm out and showcasing the dead spiders and newt eyeballs.

“I can’t believe it, you two actually listened for once.” You marveled at the ingredients, quickly snatching them up and sorting them out on the table.

“Took you long enough.” Sukuna huffed. “Now go get my clothes from that stupid playroom!”

“Okay!” And away the two of them went, rushing down the hall with echoing footsteps. Flipping pages in a book you’d cast aside, you read it over and put in all the ingredients they had brought.

“This spell really is the one to turn you back to a human. God, I feel like an idiot, the answer was right in front of me!” Kicking yourself internally, you looked at your stash of ingredients; you had all the things the kids had brought you already at your disposal.

Right as Sukuna was about to speak, his clattering armor and underclothes made an appearance in the room, clattering to the ground as the kids struggled to carry it all inside. Laying out his clothes for him, you poured the new potion into a glass.

“Turn around children, I don’t want you to see something you shouldn’t.” With a chorus of giggles behind you, you even covered your eyes as you held the glass to Sukuna’s lips. “Try and jump onto the ground after you drink it all, I don’t want you breaking the table.”

“Got it.” Sukuna was better prepared for the transformation this time, swallowing all of the potion and gritting his teeth at the discomfort coursing through him. When you felt the glass was empty, you turned around to give him privacy.

Holding your breath and crossing your fingers, every fiber of your being was hoping and praying that Sukuna returned to normal. You heard clothing rustle and armor clanking, but you didn’t open your eyes until a heavy human hand landed on your shoulder.

“I’m back!” Sukuna cheered, flexing the muscles in his body and tightening the various straps on his clothing. He’d forgon putting his armor back on, opting to wear just the loose green tunic and pants that he had on underneath.

“We did it!” The children cheered as well, clapping and smiling.

“You two were the whole cause of this mess! You should be cheering for (Y/N) for saving you from a punishment.”

“Thanks (Y/N)!”

“Yeah, you’re the best!” Giving you brief and crushing hugs, the two youths ran from the room, probably off to find other mischief to get into. Letting out a relieved sigh, you began to clean up the table.

“Nice work, (Y/N).” Patting you on the back, Sukuna attempted to help you by gathering all the empty vials.

“It would have been better if I’d just checked that book to begin with. I thought I wrote down those ingredients for them at random, but turns out the answer was so glaringly obvious that of course I missed it.” While it felt good to turn Sukuna back into a human, the knowledge that this could have been done a lot sooner weighed heavily on your mind.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Returning his hand to your back, Sukuna let it rest a bit heavier. “You’re still learning, you’re bound to mess up here and there. But hey, you turned me back in the end!” Smiling at you, Sukuna gave you a half hug, not caring if he crushed you against his chiseled physique.

“Sukuna, that was so nice of you to say, thank you.” Hugging him back, your heart felt like it was going to burst.

“You think so? I’ve been practicing ever since my commanders told me to be softer to the new recruits and give them words of encouragement.”

“Well it’s certainly paid off.” The heat from his body transferred onto yours, making it obvious when you pulled away from each other that your whole body was slowly being set on fire from the sweet words melting your brain.

Cleaning up was quick with Sukuna’s help and before you knew it your workspace was just as messy as before all of this had happened and there was the familiar chatter of other witches walking down the halls towards dinner.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” It was bittersweet knowing Sukuna was leaving to the same place you were but going to sit at completely different places, on opposite sides of the dining hall. You desperately wanted to ask to eat with him, to extend the moment you two were having, but your social rank prevented you from being the one to make the first move.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you going to eat dinner?” Grabbing the door, Sukuna slowly pulled it open, ignoring the shocked looks from passersby as he started to make his exit.

“I am but-”

“Then c’mon, let's go.” With half his body already out the door, Sukuna paused when he saw you weren’t making any move. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, go on without me.”

“I want to go with you.” Quirking a brow, Sukuna swayed on his feet for another moment before getting fed up with waiting and grabbing onto your sleeve, yanking you from your room and into the hall.

All eyes were on you and you knew there would be a lot of questions hurled your way sooner or later about what was going on with the two of you. Someone as high ranking as Sukuna wasn’t seen with new recruits, especially not coming out of their workspaces.

“Now let’s go, I’m fucking starving.” Sliding a hand up to the collar of your robes, Sukuna held a fistful in his hand and made you walk with him down the hall.

“Sukuna, you don’t have to be friendly with me anymore, I already held my end of the deal.”

“Why should I stop? I liked hanging out with you, (Y/N). Unless you don’t want to hang out with me anymore.” His grip softened a little and you grasped his wrist.

“No, I do! I-I really do! It’s just, you’re such a high rank and-”

“So what?”

“So, it’s not really heard of for us to mingle!”

“What’re you talking about, I mingle with witches all the time!”

“Yeah but they’re more senior than I am.” Letting out a sharp grunt, Sukuna stopped abruptly and turned you to face him.

“Fine. (Y/N), as your superior I order you to have dinner with me. Happy now?” Without waiting for an answer, Sukuna began to walk again. “And if you give me any more shit, I’ll make you run up a hundred mountains when I train you.”

“You want to train me?” Sure, witches received some physical training but a majority of your learning was focused on magic.

“I think it’s only fair since I learned a bit of magic today.” Getting into the line to enter the dining hall, Sukuna finally released your collar.

“I’d like to learn from you.” Giving him a bashful smile, you were mentally clearing your schedule in preparation for the day.

“You might fall even more in love with me, I can’t wait to read the notes you pass around about me afterwards.”

“God, you’ll never let me live that down will you?” Slapping your hands over your face, you felt the urge to bang your head against the wall.

“Never.” Laughing at your misfortune, Sukuna nudged you forward and into the dining hall. “Now go get some food, I’ll save my biggest fan a seat next to me at my usual table.” Leaving you all alone and dying of embarrassment, Sukuna walked to a group of other knights, his loud and boisterous voice easily carrying over the others in the room.

Gathering all the pieces of your dinner, you looked out at the massive dining hall, crammed with knights, witches and other civil servants just trying to make it. Scanning over the tables, you could see gaggles of knights but not the one you wanted to see.

“(Y/N)!” Just as you’d given up searching and turned away, Sukuna yelled your name, somehow cutting through all the noise. Looking over your shoulder you saw Sukuna standing on a table and waving at you once you made eye contact. The seat next to him was completely empty, a space big enough for you to sit and eat at.

“C-coming!” You yelled back, unsure if he even heard you until you received a big thumbs up and Sukuna jumped off the table. With scalding cheeks, you gripped your plate tighter and rushed over to the table, eager to spend more time with your new friend.

[maybege]

Work Song

Summary: You meet once again.

Pairing: hot dad!Boba Fett x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4.2k

Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom/sub relationship, use of sex toys, dirty talk, consensual degradation and namecalling, multiple orgasms, double penetration, oral sex (m receiving), come play, sexting

When I was pondering which to post (bodyguard!Paz ord hot dad!Boba), I figured: why not both? So tonight I am serving you some delicious hot dad!Boba smut and tomorrow or Tuesday evening you will get the next part of The One! I am really excited to share this with you and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoy it!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Work was boring.

Or rather, it wasn’t boring but your thoughts kept drifting to much more exciting prospects. Like the next meeting at the motel.

Boba had messaged you that he had gotten scheduled for the midnight calls almost all through the next month and had suggested you meet on Fridays instead. But since Fridays were your yoga course days, and the only real opportunity for you to go out and meet new people and potential friends, that was not an option either. And so, you had remained on Saturdays - even if it meant he wouldn’t get to stay the night.

Even over the phone, you could see the reluctance he had to agree to it. (“I’d prefer if I could buy you breakfast the way I buy you dinner,” had been his exact words to which you had only smiled.)

So now it was Thursday, almost the end of the week, and you could not wait to get back home, to get to the end of the week and into the motel and, most importantly, to Boba.

With a groan, you let your head onto your desk in your cubicle. All around you, you could hear the tapping of the keyboards, people talking, phones ringing, the alarm of the printer going off when there was – once again – not enough paper there. Even sitting at your desk among a sea of people you never felt so alone.

“What are you thinking?” Nat, chewing a piece of gum, popped up on the wall of your cubicle, resting her chin in her hands. You flinched in surprise, looking up at her cheerful face. “Dreaming of mystery man from the bar again?”

If only she knew.

You smiled, “I, uh, I was just checking over these numbers again, I think I might have to start from scratch and ask marketing for the raw numbers.”

Nat popped her gum, clearly disappointed that you did not seem to share any details. “Well, Marketing really needs to get their shit together,” she grumbled, “I had to ask them for the full numbers – twice! – last week. can you believe that? Twice!”

“Now that I have them in front of me, it’s not that hard to believe,” you grinned, leaning back in your chair and looking up at her, “But that is not why you came to talk is it?”

“Well,” she sighed dramatically, sending you a wink, “Since you don’t let me live through your love life – you want to come for drinks this Saturday? Me and the girls want to check out a new restaurant in town, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“I’d love to but I already have plans,” you declined, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of whom you had plans with, “Maybe next time?”

For a minute, you were afraid that maybe she would be suspicious. That maybe she would keep asking you about Boba and you would have to dodge your questions.

But thankfully, Nat seemed to have completely forgotten all about your love life.

“Sure!” she perked up, throwing a look towards the kitchen, “Wanna do lunch together? I’m starving.”

You nodded, smiling when you heard her basically skipping her way to the kitchen from her cubicle. Grabbing your phone, you went to follow her.

*

Nat kept talking about one thing or another, completely oblivious to the internal fight you were just hashing out in your head.

Never had your phone looked more menacing.

You did not know when or how exactly but somewhere in the two minutes it had taken to microwave your food, a tiny little thought had manifested itself in your mind.

Boba had asked for your wishes the last time and you had been too nervous to think about them. But surely, with the safety of a screen between you, you would be able to articulate at least some of them?

Then again, would he even want that? After all, it was not Saturday and maybe he did not want to have that kind of contact out of your agreed meeting hours?

You tapped your fingernails on the table top before deciding to just fuck it.

You: I want you to fuck my mouth.

There. It was sent. It was done. You had half a mind to switch your phone off and never look at it again, you felt that embarrassed. But before you could do so you saw how the read notification popped up and now it was like a car crash you couldn’t look away from. Boba had seen it. It was too late now. Shit, what had you done?

Boba: So princess has some dirty wishes after all.

Boba: Any more things you want to try out?

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head towards Nat who looked at you questioningly. “My friend just sent me something funny,” you waved off while making sure no one would be able to get a look on your phone screen.

Toys. you typed out, I’ve never got to try any and I want to try them all. Want you to use them on me.

Now I’m thinking about getting you a dildo, little one. Maybe even two. One for that tight little kissy and the other to train your mouth.

The implication made you clench your thighs and you took a deep breath, hoping no one would notice how you were almost squirming in your seat.

Lunch forgotten, your eyes were fixed on your phone as the three dots kept moving on the screen. You weren’t really sure if this counted as texting per se but you had never been this explicit with someone over texts and your heart skipped a beat as the next message appeared.

Boba: Does that turn you on?

You: Yes.

Boba: Where are you?

You: On my lunch break. Why?

Boba: Because if you’d been home I’m this close to take a half-day and fuck you silly in your own bed.

You shuddered, your thighs clenching.

I’m this close to going home sick if that’s what awaits me.

The read notification popped up but you saw how he wasn’t online anymore and frowned. You tried to avoid your thoughts of how maybe you had been too forward or too awkward or maybe he thought you were weird now for being willing to go home in the middle of the workday just to get in bed with him. But the truth was you were.

Work was boring today and while you appreciated Nat’s attempts to get talking, you didn’t really feel in the mood to talk. Besides, you knew she was just out to get more info about the bar mystery man as she called him and even though you liked her you really didn’t want to talk about Boba to anyone. So yeah, the thought of being able to go home and be able to feel Boba against you instead of going through the different numbers sounded like heaven to you.

Reluctantly, you got back to your pasta salad, aware that you only had a few minutes on your break left and trying to not spend them checking your phone constantly. How much more pathetic could you be?

“Ready?” Nat asked suddenly beside you as her friends got their dishes into the dishwasher and you nodded with a smile.

“Although when is one ever ready for work?” she asked, faking a British accent and you grinned, pocketing your phone in the pocket of your dress.

“Never,” you replied, “one can just hope it’ll be over soon.”

The dark-haired women turned to you with a conspiratory grin before twirling into her cubicle, leaving you alone to go back to your desk. You stood at the entrance of your cubicle for a moment, eyes roaming over the papers on your desk, ruined with your scribbling as you tried to decipher whatever numbers marketing had sent you.

You rubbed your hand over your face, forcing yourself to smile with the hopes that it would release endorphins or some shit. You could do this. There was no need to feel overwhelmed by this. What would be the first step to make this better?

Typing the email to Brenda from Marketing should not have been as hard as it was. But your mind was swirling with trying to find the right balance between polite and insistent because you could not afford to lose any more hours of work over something that simply could not be worked with.

Just as you were ready to give up, your phone pinged.

Boba: Sorry, business call. But believe me, little one, I can’t wait until this weekend. Would you be okay with me buying some toys for you?

You smiled, answer already ready.

*

“Shit, little one, you looked so good like that. You like that?”

You gasped for breath, eagerly nodding. A thin layer of sweat had built all over your body as you knelt on the end of the bed. You were so intoxicated by these feelings, by him, it felt like everything was on fire, getting ready to burst.

As soon as he had arrived – you being the first in the room this time around – he had framed your face in his hands and kissed you until you both been breathless. And then he had shown you the toys.

That was how you had ended up here, on the bed, completely naked, moving yourself on one of the dildos he had brought for you.

“Look at you, such a good girl for me, hm?” Boba murmured, his hands moving once again and you choked, tears stinging in your eyes from the effort of trying to relax your throat and keeping your hands behind your back as he had instructed.

Boba had not just brought one toy. He had brought two. And you while you were fucking yourself on one, thighs shaking with the effort, Boba had pushed the other down your mouth. “To train you to take me,” he had rumbled with a glint in his eyes.

A particularly hard thrust down your throat forced you lower on the shaft between your legs and you moaned, tears of pleasure and despair pricking your eyes. He was still completely closed, looking as dominant as ever and you could feel your clit and y our nipples aching wanting to be touched and played with.

You whined, drool slipping down your chin and Boba showed mercy, slowly pulling the toys away from your mouth. “What is it, little one?” he asked, “What’s got you all teary-eyed, hm ?”

“My – my nipples are so sensitive,” you pleaded with him, “Please, please touch them, Boba.”

He grinned darkly, running the tip of the dildo over your wet lips. “So, touch them.”

You shook your head as best as you could, wanting to remind him of the one rule he had set for you but then he pushed the toys back into your mouth. Your back arched as you leant forwards, humming when the dildo shifted inside you and even more so when your chest brushed against the rough material of his shirt.

It was like little pricks of pleasure coursed through you.

Boba looked down at you, the blue dildo still in his hand and you felt heat seep into your cheeks. From shame? Maybe. But all you felt arousal as you saw the admiration in hid ryes.

“How desperate you look,” he mused, his fingers holding your chin, “How pretty. Just for me.”

“Yes,” you gasped, mouth falling open as you sank down on the toys again, your nipples brushing over the harsh fabric, “J-just for you.”

“My pretty little fucktoy,” he smiled, leaning down and kissing you open-mouthed. You gasped into him, pleasure overtaking you and when his hand wandered down to your right nipple, pinching and pulling it sharply, you came. Everything in your body tightening before it felt like you were bursting at the seams, the sudden wave of pleasure making you whimper.

Where you had been so precariously balanced on top of the dildo, now you lost your balance, completely falling against him but Boba was there to catch you.

“Good girl,” he mumbled, his hand still squeezing your tit, “Think you have another round in you?”

Your eyes fell to the very obvious bulge in his pants and you nodded eagerly. Even with your legs still trembling from your orgasm, you were already carving more. More of this, more of him and the pleasure he could give you.

With calloused fingers gently wrapped around your forearm, he helped you up.

You followed willingly, letting him turn around until you were facing the bed, sheets messy where you had kneeled.

“I’m going to let you choose, little one,” he murmured into your ear, his warm body pressed against your back. You could hardly concentrate with your hands on your skin like that, one hand holding you by your throat while the other dipped between your folds. “Which toy do you want to fuck now?”

First, you were disappointed that apparently you did not get to fuck yourself on his cocks but then his finger swiped over your clit and you shuddered.

“Answer me, princess,” he growled, his hand slightly tightening on your throat, “Or are you too cockdumb already?”

“Nuh-uh,” you tried to shake your head just as much as your legs were shaking from the pleasure he was giving you. You tried to focus on the toys. The one you had used already and the one he had had you suck off. The blue one was glistening from your juices and your thighs clenched at the thought of having it inside you again.

But the other one, the purple one, was much thicker than the blue and you knew it was closer to what Boba’s cock actually felt like.

“The purple one,” you murmured, head leaning back against his shoulder and he mouthed at your neck, humming in satisfaction.

“You’re so kriffing sexy, you know that?” he whispered, planting a playful bite on your shoulders before leaving you alone in the middle of the room. You whined, pressing your thighs together as you saw him so meticulously prepare for what seemed to be the next scene he had had in mind.

With a soft towel spread on the floor in front of the armchair, Boba looked at you as he sat down, legs spread wide before planting the dildo on the towel. “I think good girls deserve a treat,” he murmured, working on his pants before getting his weeping cock out and you swore your knees were that close to giving out underneath you.

You gaped at him, practically falling on your knees with your hands placed on his thighs. The impact made a dull sound and your heart skipped a beat as he immediately leant forward, fingers gripping your chin as he searched your face for any sign of pain.

“I know you’re eager to suck my cock, little one,” he smirked, “But no need hurting yourself over it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling a little embarrassed for how needy you were being.

Boba smirked, leaning back in his seat but not before running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes flicked down to his weeping cock, your mouth watering at seeing how a drop of precome had already collected at the tip.

Without thinking any further, you sank down on the dildo, mouth falling open at how it stretched you. You ducked down, closing your lips around his shaft and taking him as deep as he would go in one smooth movement.

Boba groaned loudly above you, one hand going to the back of your neck to keep you there. Just like your pussy, he filled your throat completely, your tongue feeling as if it was running out of space so you did your best to press it against the underside of him, wriggling along the prominent vein he had there.

Tears gathered in your eyes again and you moaned as the toy inside you hit a spot the previous one couldn’t. Your hips stuttered, slowly starting to grin against it in hopes of it hitting that spot again. You did not move your mouth from him.

“Fuck you look good like that,” he praised you, his free hand coming around your throat and you tried to swallow when you felt his thumb rub over the bulge in your throat. You had not even realized how far you had taken him but when you saw the grin on his face, his eyes glazed over in pleasure, you felt proud of yourself for making him feel like this.

Slowly he pulled you off his length and you followed, gasping for breath when you could. A trail of saliva connected you still to him and through your lashes, you looked up at him. Even now he was a sight to behold, jaw clenched, a glint in his eyes.

You would do everything to please him.

“Don’t think I can last long, little one,” he grumbled, lips twitching as he spotted how you still moved your hips, “Think you can come before that? Don’t want to leave you hanging.”

You nodded, rising on your knees again just like before and sinking back down, moaning when it hit that sweet spot.

“Good,” he smiled, warping his hand around his cock, “You can touch yourself how much you. Just want you to come for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled, obediently opening your mouth to take him in again. Your fingers went to your clit, circling it to spread around the wetness that was already making its way to the towel. You gasped, hips jerking at the pleasure.

Boba groaned, rubbing the head of his cock along your tongue, precoma coating your taste buds. He pushed your head down again, quickly building up to a rhythm that had you choking and gagging, spit trailing down your chin, making you feel filthy and desired.

One hand came up to your chest, pinching your nipple and throwing you off the cliff. Your moan got interrupted by Boba shoving himself down your throat even more and you shook where you sat, your wetness coating the toy until all you could hear were obscene squelching sounds from between your thighs.

“Where did you want my come little one?”

“On my face, please,” you gasped.

A deep, guttural groan left him and you opened your mouth even wider, sticking your tongue out as your fingers played with your nipples. Hot roped of come splattered on your face, landing on your brows, your nose, your tongue, dripping down your chin and onto your chest. Boba continued pumping his shaft milking himself of every last drop and collecting it on his thumb before gently spreading it over your cheek.

“Did I do good?” you asked, heaving for breath.

“You were perfect,” he rumbled, scooping some of his come onto your tongue and you swallowed eagerly.

You shifted on your knees, wincing when the dildo moved inside you.

Boba leant down to you, his hand carefully holding you by the elbow as he stood up slowly, taking you with him. Your legs were shaking from the strain and your knees hurt from straightening them. You shivered.

A soft kiss was pressed to your lips and he led you back to the bed. The fabric was cool under your fingertips and you took a shaky breath. His warm hands were on your shoulders, thumbs brushing the skin as he looked down on you.

“Let me get you something to clean up, okay?” he murmured.

You nodded silently. He disappeared for a moment and you simply sat there, wringing your hands and trying to focus on your surroundings. Everything was fuzzy still, pleasantly warm from your orgasms but you also felt could now that it was over.

You heard the sink run in the bathroom and a moment later, Boba was in front of you again, a warm cloth in his hands that he gently ran over your face.

“Look up at me, little one,” he murmured and you did, closing your eyes as you tilted your face towards him. With gentle movements, he cleaned your face but you were too tired to smile. You felt drained but in a good way, like your limbs were too heavy from pleasure to really move and so you just let the feelings wash over you.

When he was finished, his hand came up to cup your cheek and you leaned into him.

Boba hummed, “Would you like to take a shower or a bath?”

“Bath, please,” you croaked, flinching as you heard how hoarse you sounded. Boba’s lips quirked up and he nodded. Slowly he guided you to the tiled bathroom, sitting you down on a towel at the edge of the tub before getting the water running.

You frowned, the rushing water almost too loud in your ears. Boba turned around, spotting you curling in on yourself and just like that he had you in his arms.

“It was a bit intense, wasn’t it?” he asked quietly, his lips brushing against your ears and you nodded, burying your head in the fabric of his flannel.

“I – I don’t know why I feel this way,” you whispered, “this … sensitive.”

“You’re coming down from a high, little one,” he explained, thumb brushing the back of your neck, “It’s normal to feel a little exposed. But I will make sure, you’re okay, okay? Anything you need, princes, you just tell me, yeah? Anything.”

“Okay,” you whispered, already feeling a bit better with him here.

You did not know for how long you stood there, but when the water shut off and Boba helped you in the tub you sighed in content. The water was just the perfect temperature and you sunk in with closed eyes, the only thing guiding you being Boba’s hands.

“I will get us some food, okay?” he asked quietly, sitting at the edge of the tub and holding your hand. You had never felt this cared for. “I will get us the same order as the last time, does that sound good?”

You nodded with a smile. He stood up but you held onto his hand, only letting go when the distance became too much. Stars, you were really fucked out good, weren’t you?

With your eyes closed in relaxation, you could only hear his low chuckle as he got ready to leave. The door to the room closed not long after. You soaked in the tub for what felt like an eternity. The water was warm and you were positively surprised by the scent of the motel shampoo. It certainly was not as bad as you thought it would be.

Slowly you felt yourself coming back to reality, feeling more energized and more awake and aware of your surroundings. Boba had not come back yet so when the water got a little too cold for your liking, you decided to get out anyway.

You got dressed in your nightgown you had taken with you – thankful that Boba had left it for you on the counter in a moment of foresight –, hurrying barefoot over the carpet into the bed.

Just as you turned on the TV, the lock of the door turned and a whistling Boba came in, arms laden full of brown paper bags.

“You got more than last time,” you stated, frowning as you saw him put down a second paper bag on the small TV desk.

“Well, I won’t be able to buy you breakfast tomorrow, now will I?” he replied, “Thought I could take care of that now and then you don’t have to worry about it tomorrow.”

“Oh really?” you asked, sitting up on your knees, not minding when the blanket fell down, so you could at least make an attempt to peer into the bag.

Boba chuckled, indulging you by handing you the mysterious food bag and immediately you took a peek. There, neatly arranged, was a croissant, a chocolate muffin and what looked like a little breakfast sandwich.

“I’d keep the sandwich in the fridge,” Boba commented from the other side of the room, already taking out the familiar smelling food containers. He did not seem to know how your heart swelled in your chest at the sweet gesture.

You knew he had wanted to be here for breakfast – he had literally told you so on the phone – but when it was clear that Saturday would remain your meeting day of choice, you thought he had just shrugged it off. Maybe it had just been a flirtatious remark?

But the fact that he had gone out of his way to somehow show you he had been serious about what he had said made butterflies appear in your stomach.

“It’s very sweet,” you murmured, looking at the way the muscles in his back moves as he fished for the plastic utensils, “You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” he replied easily, still smiling when he turned around and carried the food with him, “Now let me slip under that blanket, princess, what will we watch?”

You giggled, watching this giant man carefully position himself on the bed, before stretching out his arm, offering you the food to eat and his chest to rest against once again.

“I could get used to this,” you murmured, taking a bite of the pita.

“Me too, princess,” he rumbled, “Me too.”