#i think. i will now get some things that ive been dismissing

[manlymothman]

sigh

[purple-babygirl]

in the far corner of the forest IV

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: mentions of hand injury, idiots in love, feels, jealousy, racism against orcs, angry behaviour, shouting, fight gets slightly physical, bruised arm, crying, angst (i'm sorry). I think that's all.

A/N: good news result in long chapters. thank you from the bottom of my heart for everyone who has wished me good luck with my interview, you guys are angels. please enjoyxx💜💜

~

“You’re in love.”

“I’m what now!?” Bucky chuckled dismissively as he dropped his axe.

Bucky had spent half a day at home, refraining from going to work because of his hand’s condition, but as much as he loved staying home with her, he knew he wasn’t made to take a break.

So he thought he would visit, talk to Sam for a bit and maybe get some pent up ‘feelings’ out on some tree logs. His metal arm was still working just fine after all.

“I said, you’re in love with your human wife,” Sam repeated, smiling so warmly that Bucky wanted to smack him.

“I got her a few weeks ago.” Bucky shook his head in denial of the mere idea of him falling for anyone, let alone a human.

He did love Sam and Sarah, but that was it. They were the only humans he could tolerate. He hated the rest of them. Hell, he hated the human half of himself.

Bucky was just trying to make life easier for himself, that was all. He has been through enough conflicts and he didn’t need this in his marriage too. He deserved to live a normal life like everybody else.

Yes, he was courting her, and maybe he did constantly crave the feel of her body against his ever since she let him hug her the night of the injury, and he was definitely getting hopeful now that she hadn’t tried to run for a whole half day, but that didn’t mean he was in love! Did it?

“And now you’re in love with her.” Sam smirked, knowing how much it drove Bucky crazy that a female human had him on his knees for her love.

“Quit saying that!” Bucky stood up, ready to walk away from his annoying friend.

“Why does it make you so angry that you’re in lo—”

“Don’t,” Bucky warned him, eyes angry and glaring.

“—ve?”

“I am not in love with her, okay! She’s human! Plus, that girl drives me crazy! Do you know how many times I had to bring her back after she’d tried to run in the first two weeks? Five fucking times! That’s almost once every two days, Sam. And she only had one foot working!” Bucky ranted heatedly, desperate to negate his best friend’s theory.

Was he in love with her? And if Sam could see it, did that mean she could too?

“Well, why do you care to bring her back? Why not just let her run?” Sam shrugged, internally dying for Bucky to acknowledge his feelings.

“She could die out there! Humans are weak.”

“So?” Sam probed, intentionally ignoring Bucky’s remark about humans’ strength.

“So— so I signed all those things when she was offered to me. She can’t— I can’t—”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t let her get hurt,” Bucky admitted lowly, sitting down on a log with a loud sigh.

“Why does that make you so upset?” Sam dug deeper.

“Because I think you’re right. I think I might be in love with her.” Bucky rubbed his eye with his good hand, pushing his hair back angrily.

“And?”

“And she thinks I’m the devil.” Bucky’s face fell to his palms.

“Did she ever say that to you out loud?” Sam asked, touching the end of his sharpened blade.

“She doesn’t need to, Sam. I see it in her eyes every time I find her after she’d tried to run away.” Bucky’s voice was broken like his friend has never heard before.

“I thought you said everything was better after your injury?”

“Yeah, but that’s not gonna last forever.” Bucky gave a sad grin, “she’s soon gonna go back to seeing me the same as before.”

“Well, it’s up to you to change her mind, Buck.” Sam patted his friend’s shoulder, giving a squeeze.

Bucky sighed once more before getting up.

Sam was a human. A very handsome one with much less scars and non-icy skin. He would never understand. It would never work. She hated him.

He could continue trying, but it wouldn’t change anything of the way she felt about him and their marriage. She had told him time and time again how she felt about both.

“Going home already?”

“Yeah, I can’t miss the running away bit. It’s my favourite,” he sighed, Sam's laugh trailing behind him.

“Smile at her for a change.”

“Shut up.” I do smile at her. I only ever smile at her.

“Sarah loved the jam by the way!” Sam yelled.

“I’ll let her know!” Bucky yelled back before exhaling sadly.

Sam would never understand. Her taking pity on him those past couple of hours was nothing more than sympathy and likely even guilt.

Sam would never understand that of all the eyes in the world, it seems like Bucky has managed to fall for the only ones that knew how to hurt him, the eyes that would only look at him as a disgusting, frightening monster.

~

When Bucky got home, everything was creepily in place. His door was closed like he had left it and he actually had to use his key to open it for the first time in a while.

Stepping inside, the warm smell of roast chicken welcomed him back.

The house was warm because all the windows were actually shut, too. It was all so calm and homely; the orc was seriously worried.

And then he heard it: his human wife’s sweet voice, humming the melody of a song unfamiliar to him. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

Bucky carefully shut the door behind him, not wanting her peaceful mood to end so soon as he tried to take lighter steps to where she was.

Much to his dismay though, she needed something from the other side of the kitchen and when she turned around she saw Bucky and gasped, jumping embarrassingly high.

“You scared me!” She whined, holding a hand to her heart.

“Sorry.” Bucky smirked, entertained by how cute she looked when startled.

“Welcome home,” she mumbled with a bit-back grin, holding onto his forearms before getting on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

She never told him, but she was unbelievably thankful when he didn’t specify which type of kiss he expected weeks ago, and even more thankful when he didn’t object to her pecking his cheek before burying herself under the covers.

Life with Bucky has gotten undeniably familiar lately and leaving him was all of a sudden an idea that didn’t interest her as much as before.

Everything he was saying and doing has brought her closer to him without her even comprehending it.

As the days passed, she had realized running away was too exhausting, too risky, and for what? It wasn’t like she had a home to run to or a treasure buried somewhere or a lover worth escaping her orc for.

Her orc.

Hers.

A word she never felt the meaning of until the day Bucky made her his wife.

Bucky was the first and only one to present to her a taste of something she has never had: the feeling of exclusively owning things.

The smile that graced her face when she brushed her hair the first time with the brush Bucky got her was new and unprecedented.

Her brush, he called it.

Her shoes. Her chair. Her towel. Her clothes. Her books. Her side of the bed. Her cottage. Her kitchen.

And her husband.

Everything was brand new and completely hers.

Nothing was handed down to her, nothing was used before the minute her fingers had touched it. None of the things Bucky gifted her had previous owners, including him and his heart.

Most importantly, she didn’t have to share any of it with anybody.

“You’re home,” Bucky said, a surprised yet very happy smile lighting up his handsome features.

“I thought the wife was supposed to say that,” she replied playfully, going back to the bubbling pot.

Bucky raised his eyebrows at the good mood she seemed to be in. He was liking this.

He watched her sprinkle some black pepper into the soup as he came behind her.

She could feel the heat of his body surrounding her even when they weren’t touching and it had her heartbeat going crazy.

“Thank you, little human,” Bucky whispered, before he leaned down and pecked her cheek as well, his stubble and blunt tusks tickling her jaw.

She felt her whole body jolt with electricity at the simple graze of his lips and tusks on her skin as she closed her eyes.

Bucky left the kitchen and went to the bathroom but she was still hot as if his warmth never left her.

And when she opened her eyes and absentmindedly reached her fingertips to touch her cheek, she found herself smiling too.

What was happening to her? What was this foreign feeling lifting her off of her feet in the middle of the kitchen?

“Sam’s sister loved your strawberry jam by the way!” Bucky shouted to her from the bathroom, making her jump again before smiling to herself.

He didn’t use Sarah’s name on purpose, not wanting to ruin her happy mood as he had noticed how angry she got every time he would say it.

“I’ll make her more tomorrow!” She replied with a grin, proud of her hand’s work, her jealousy long forgotten after Bucky’s words of the night before.

After all, how could she be jealous when she was the one that Bucky was looking at like that?

~

When she finished setting up the table and Bucky didn’t come out of the bathroom, she got a little worried.

He never took too long during his showers, and now that he only had one arm to use, she thought he would cut his showers even shorter.

What if his wound was bleeding again and he didn’t want to tell her and was trying to fix it by himself inside the bathroom? She knew she should have stopped him from going to the yard!

“Bucky.” She knocked on the door softly, wanting to make sure he was okay.

“Yes, little human?” Bucky instantly opened the door for her.

And he looked like a dream.

Steam has surrounded him inside the bathroom, water drops from his still-wet hair dripping down his muscular, bare chest and for the first time since Bucky has been naked around her, she found herself looking at him. Actually looking.

Bucky’s chest was so broad, beefy and ribbed down to his abdomen. Scars of all sizes and shapes littered the beautiful, icy greyish skin, a reminder of the battles he had fought and all the sacrifices he had made.

Her heart clenched at the sight, a pang of sympathy coursing through her as she could only imagine the pain he must have had to endure.

Still, she found her hands tingling in curiosity, desperate to know what tracing the healed skin would feel like under her fingertips.

Bucky was a sight for sore eyes, a sight that both captivated and unnerved her, stirring a flurry of unfamiliar emotions in her chest that she struggled to contain.

She averted her gaze, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over her at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

“Are—” she chocked, her voice barely above a whisper as she coughed it out, “are you okay? You took a while.”

“Yeah, I’m just having a hard time drying up my hair with one arm,” Bucky reassured her, chuckling lightly at his dilemma as he let the towel around his neck drop.

He was completely oblivious to the way he just made her face burn up as her thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Come.” She took Bucky’s hand in hers, careful not to squeeze his palm, and led him outside to their bed.

It took Bucky a second to move his feet, but when he did, he felt like he was being carried on top of a cloud.

She felt herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, curiosity and… desire. A new sensation was tingling all over her body, specifically in places she didn’t need to be tingling right now.

Positioning herself between his parted legs, she reached to take the towel from around Bucky’s neck.

His eyes watched her, surprise flickering in them as he realized what she was going to do, unable to believe what was happening.

Sensing her nervousness, Bucky offered her a reassuring, grateful smile, silently encouraging her to continue.

And as she began to carefully pat his damp hair dry, her touch tentative and her eyes focused, he felt warmth welling up inside him.

She couldn’t help but steal glances at his bare shoulder and chest, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the engrossing sight. It was a feeling unlike anything she has ever experienced before, her heart racing with unparalleled excitement.

The awkwardness of the situation began to fade bit by bit as she focused more on the task at hand, in its place growing an overwhelming sense of closeness and familiarity.

Bucky’s hair was so soft under her fingertips as she took the towel up and down the brown locks. She wished she had given herself a chance to touch it more before.

As she finished drying her orc’s hair, she met his gaze with a shy bite of her lip, her eyes sparkling with newfound confidence.

Bucky reached out to take her hands, his smile appreciative as his lips pressed a deep kiss on each palm, silently thanking her for her kindness and care.

~

“I didn’t know your cooking was so good. You surprise me every day,” Bucky praised, as she filled his mouth with more lentil soup, trying not to think of his conversation with Sam or the way his body was still on fire from the mere act of her drying his hair for him.

He couldn’t even believe she was feeding him after seeing him struggle to keep the food on his spoon using his left hand.

“All the girls at the orphanage know how to cook. They teach us all sorts of things and make us to be good housewives,” she replied, suddenly nostalgic of her days at the orphanage, curious to know how, where and when Bucky got the chance to see her back then.

Bucky didn’t say anything, busying his mouth with chewing some bread as his smile shrank.

She didn’t look happy. Why did she stay then? Was she planning on running away at night that day? Maybe she put something in the food?

“I’m glad you like your dinner though,” she said, breaking the thick silence with a soft smile as she fed the orc a piece of chicken.

“Why didn’t you try to leave today?” Bucky couldn’t hold back.

She was taken aback by his question. She thought he wanted her here.

Was he finally done? Did he want her out? Was he not going to look for her this time? Has Bucky given up on her? Was he going to leave her be had she gotten out today?

Most importantly, she didn’t know how to answer because it seemed like she was done running away from her new life with him, and she didn’t know if she could admit that.

“I– did you want me to?” She asked, her voice strained as she tried to hold in the tears.

“No! No, of course not!” He assured her quickly.

“Then?” She chewed on her lip.

“I don’t want you to stop running if it makes you feel alive,” Bucky told her, his blue eyes gushing with love he didn’t intend to show, “I’m willing to go to the ends of the earth to find you.”

“What?” She wasn’t expecting this at all, all the tingles she had hardly managed to shake off after drying Bucky’s wet hair coming back to attack her.

How were these words coming out of an orc! And why did they make her heart stutter in its beats?

“I love your fiery spirit and I’m afraid I’m killing it by keeping you here against your wishes. I never want to be the one to snuff your fire out.” Bucky admitted, eyes sincere as he watched her.

She just stared at him for a moment, stunned as her heart skipped yet another beat.

If he only knew that he was the one who had managed to bring this fiery personality to life.

Bucky respected her silence and went back to enjoying his dinner, not wanting to push her for a reply. She could take her time.

She kept staring at him in confusion for another minute before taking her almost untouched plate and getting up.

She almost ran to the kitchen with her hand on her heart.

What was going on with her? Her heart wasn’t seriously beating this loud for the orc. Could it be?

He sounded so selfless and spoke so gently like he has never before and she was overwhelmed.

His words were doing things to her that she has never felt before. What was wrong with her?

She knew she had caught herself staring at him without a shirt just minutes ago, maybe admiring his eyelashes as he slept in some early mornings, but she rendered it curiosity and nothing more.

She shook her head, her thoughts startling to her as she emptied her plate in the garbage and started washing it vigorously.

Bucky no longer had an appetite, sighing at her reaction.

He told himself he could understand, but it was still hurtful the way she jumped out of her chair.

He left his plate on the table, not wanting to invade her privacy by going to the kitchen before leaving the cottage altogether.

He probably shouldn’t have said anything.

~

She revisited the subject the same afternoon though, not wanting there to be any misunderstandings between her and Bucky. Not any longer.

“I don’t wanna leave anymore,” she admitted timidly, making Bucky’s smile betray him and his usual frowning.

“But I don’t like being locked away in here all day either,” she said carefully, scared to upset him.

“Where do you wanna go? The forest is dangerous, little human.” Bucky was back to frowning at the thought of anything bad happening to her again.

It was torture for him when her foot was still healing and he was the most relieved when it finally did. He couldn’t just let her roam around when she didn’t know the area.

“Take me out when you come back from work maybe? Or even on your day off,” she suggested, desperate to see the world.

“And go where?”

“Anywhere. We can walk around the woods before it gets dark, you could show me your shop, I could meet Sam? Or we could even go to the market!” She suggested eagerly.

She has been locked up for so long and she didn’t want to continue her life like this.

Bucky actually thought about it and he didn’t hate the idea. Taking her out with him would ensure her safety. He would be by her side and he would protect her. He also liked the thought of taking her out and properly courting her even if she didn’t know that that was what he was doing.

He said he didn’t want to kill her spirit by keeping her in here and she gave him the solution.

“Okay.” Bucky nodded at her with a smile.

“Okay?” She exclaimed happily, not believing Bucky would actually take her out to see around.

“Okay.” He nodded again reassuringly, her happiness making him laugh.

“Well, don’t you have tomorrow off?” She asked suggestively, gesturing to his hand.

Bucky laughed, nodding, “put your shoes on.”

“Thank you, Bucky.” She involuntarily gave his healing hand a squeeze, kissing his cheek before running to get her shoes.

Bucky swallowed hard, hoping he would be able to hold himself together and not completely melt under her sweet company.

“You’ve got to promise me though,” he said.

She looked at him questioningly as she slipped one foot into a shoe.

“No running away, little human.”

“No running away. Promise.” She promised, shaking her head with a shy smile.

Bucky smiled big, taking her smaller hand in his as she grabbed her basket in the other, ready to browse the market with her husband.

Her husband. That was starting to sound unquestionably comforting.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“What?” She tilted her head with a grin.

“You owe me a kiss,” Bucky said, his tone serious.

“No, I don’t! If anything, I just gave you an extra kiss!”

“Yes, you do. From that morning. You’re still one kiss behind!”

“I just made up for it!”

“Doesn’t count. That one covers the night before.” Bucky shrugged, a smile etched on his lips.

“Okay, fine.” She kissed Bucky’s cheek, “stop going around saying other girls’ names though.”

Bucky laughed, “I only know one!”

“Still too many,” she whispered under her breath, but Bucky heard it, smiling from ear to ear as he took his hand in hers, taking the right path out of the woods. ~ It was a beautiful afternoon, full of warm sunshine and fruitful deals. She has got some pretty good stuff for really good prices.

She couldn’t believe Bucky actually gave her pocket money.

He didn’t want her to have to ask him for money every time something caught her eye. He wanted her independent, fulfilled and brave as she bought herself whatever her heart desired.

Her heart was so full and her smile was inerasable.

Bucky didn’t let go of her hand all day and she actually liked it so much that she never complained. The feel of his calloused skin against her soft palm wasn’t like anything she has felt before.

She didn’t want to let go of his hand even while looking at the different stands and booths at the market.

But she eventually liked the flower stand too much and told Bucky she would take a look at them while he continued buying them the fruits he was picking.

“Good afteroon,” a smooth voice interrupted her admiration of the potted plants before her, making her look up for a second.

“Good afternoon.” She smiled coyly.

“Any favorites?” The handsome man inside the booth asked her.

“All of them,” she giggled softly, the sound catching Bucky’s ears at once.

The man laughed back, “okay, I think I have something special for you. How about this one?” He brought her a purple flower from the batch hidden behind him inside the booth.

“Oh, how beautiful! What is this one?” She wondered, amazement sparkling in her eyes at the sight of the pretty petals.

“That is a Globemaster Allium. Pretty, isn’t she?” He asked, staring at her desirously as she looked at the flower.

“Yes, she’s stunning!”

“I’m Cole by the way—”

She heard Bucky clear his throat next to her and looked up at once, the innocent awe in her eyes softening the orc a little.

“Look, Bucky! Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” She pointed to the flower pot excitedly.

Bucky leaned in, his frown scaring her a little, her breath hitching when his lips tickled the shell of her ear, “no, little human, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She chocked on her own saliva, hiding her hot face with her hand as she coughed, “Bucky!” She whined with a shy smile.

Where did that come from!

“Let’s go,” Bucky said with a nod of his head, eyes stern as he glared at Cole.

“Can—” She held his wrist, “can I have it?” She asked softly, gesturing to the flower pot.

Bucky wanted to say no. He didn’t want her to have this farmer’s flower. But he couldn’t say no to those hopeful, beautiful eyes of hers.

“Fine.” He watched her get the money out of her pocket and she smiled gratefully as she almost set them down on Cole’s counter.

“It’s on the house,” Cole said, still smiling dreamily at her.

She could all but swallow as she gave a polite smile back before looking up at Bucky for help.

“Take your goddamn money.” Bucky made a quick job of paying for the flower, taking the money from her and slamming it on the counter, making the whole booth shake.

He quickly took his wife home, deciding that was enough socialization for the both of them for the day.

She wasn’t going to lie, she was loving jealousy on her orc. It felt so intoxicating to have someone love her so much that he was jealous of other men talking to her.

She wouldn’t tell Bucky, but she would probably spend the nights of the next week smiling at the wall every time she remembered how he held her hand back home just a little bit tighter that day.

Her own heart was running wild at the sight of the orc now and she didn’t want it any other way.

~

“Now you know how it feels,” she teased with a smile as they were getting ready for bed.

Bucky couldn’t let it go, talking about how they were never going to stop by that farmer’s flower booth ever again.

“That’s not the same! I was never into Sarah! But that man was openly ogling you!” Bucky grumbled, his frown digging deep into the skin of his forehead.

“He was just being nice, trying to sell his flowers,” she laughed, upsetting Bucky even more.

How couldn’t she see it? The guy was all over her!

“He was flirting and you were all giggles and blushes.” Bucky copied her, going to the bed and burying himself under the covers, facing the wall.

He understood now why she had done that.

“Hey, that’s my spot!” She joked, not knowing if Bucky was being serious.

“Not tonight,” he murmured from underneath the covers.

“Bucky,” she whined, uncovering her orc’s face.

Bucky didn’t reply, pushing himself closer to the wall.

She tried to bring him on his back by the shoulder like he so easily did her a couple of night ago, but he was too strong for her and his body wouldn’t budge.

She huffed, “okay, you left me no choice.”

Bucky remained still, wanting to see what she meant by that as he felt her shift behind him.

Before he knew it, she was on top of his bicep, trying to slot herself between his body and the wall.

“What on earth—”

“You started it, Bucky!” She said, voice determined as she kept pushing, trying to squeeze herself in the small space accessible.

Bucky looked at her in amusement for a second before moving back, making her body drop as larger space became available.

She landed with the tiniest “ouff” on the mattress, facing Bucky on her side with her back to the wall, its coolness helping soothe the heat rising to the surface of her skin.

That was the closest she had been to Bucky since their hug the night of his injury, face to face as his passionate sapphire eyes watched hers.

“Hi,” she whispered, heart in her throat.

“Hi,” Bucky replied with a charming smile, smoothing some of her ruffled strands back in place.

She stared at the orc’s eyes, not the slightest bit scared of the fact that she was trapped against the wall by his huge body.

“You’re not the only one who wants to be loyal to this marriage, Bucky,” she said, surprising Bucky and herself, “I don’t want the farmer. I don’t want anyone else.” but you.

Bucky smiled in disbelief, taken aback by her words, and she took it as permission to move closer to his chest. He instinctively wrapped her up in a protective hug, wondering how he was able to hold himself back from kissing her.

She pushed her face into her orc’s chest, his scent and warmth engulfing her into a protective bubble.

She couldn’t believe she said the words she has just said and it made her bury her burning face deeper in Bucky’s arms.

He could only hug her tighter, his nose in her sweet-smelling hair as his smile grew bigger.

This moment right there was everything Bucky has ever wished for. He could die a happy orc right then and there.

~

It became a habit for them to go out to the village on Bucky’s day off. They were both having a great time, getting closer and falling harder.

Cole hasn’t spoken to her again after learning that the snow orc was actually her husband, and she respected Bucky’s feelings and never approached Cole’s booth no matter how pretty the plants on his stand were.

Market outings were their thing now and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

She didn’t want anyone else’s attention but Bucky’s anyway. His hand has almost fully healed and she could now squeeze it all she wanted whenever she got excited about anything they encountered.

One thing did occur that annoyed her though and that was the way the jewelry lady would look at her every time she and Bucky would pass by. The woman had so much pity in her eyes when she saw her hand in an orc’s and she hated it.

She despised the way people misjudged her orc when he was far better than any human man she could’ve ever ended up with.

Yet, the lady kept giving her those pitiful looks, probably thinking Bucky had enslaved her or something.

But enough was enough.

When Bucky was busy looking at the knives, she made her way to the jewelry lady, determined to put an end to the ridiculousness.

“He is my husband,” she sternly told the lady in the jewelry stand, taking the chance that Bucky wasn’t listening.

“Oh.” The lady quickly gave a kind smile, turning from concerned about her to happy for her, “I apologize for misjudging you, dear. I was only worried about you. We’ve all heard stories about him.”

“Well, that’s all they are. Stories.” She ferociously defended, her eyes still stern.

“I’m sorry,” the woman sincerely expressed her regret, squeezing her hand.

She nodded with a small smile, accepting the older woman’s apology.

“I don’t see a ring on your hand.” The jewelry lady gestured to the collection of rings in her glass box with a wink.

“Oh.”

The sentence caught Bucky’s ears as he turned away to look at her embarrassed face.

“We didn’t get time to buy one. It all happened so quickly,” she explained awkwardly and Bucky’s expression fell.

“I have a pretty collection if you wanna take a look, and don’t worry about the price,” the older lady suggested kindly.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Choose what you like, sweet thing,” Bucky whispered to her, immediately by her side when he saw her eyes skimming over the jewelry, “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with the human marriage traditions. I should’ve gotten you one sooner.”

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to,” she reassured with a tender smile.

She didn’t need a ring to know that she was Bucky’s.

“I want to. I want you to wear my ring, little human.” Bucky raised her hands to his lips, placing the softest kisses on her each finger.

Her heart surged as a shy smile spread on her lips, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Okay.” She nodded happily, feeling like she was in a dream and she never wanted to wake up.

Though very expensive, Bucky ended up buying her the ring she chose. It was the prettiest gold ring with a moss agate blue diamond.

She tried to talk him out of it, wanting to pick something cheaper, but Bucky wouldn’t have it.

She has never felt as special as she felt with Bucky’s ring on her finger. It was the prettiest thing from the most handsome orc.

And in that very moment, she was the happiest that she trusted her gut; that she gave Bucky, and herself a chance for this marriage to be something more than a contractual deal.

Bucky couldn’t believe she has finally let him make her his. When he slipped that ring on her tiny finger, he felt like he was king of the world.

While walking back to their cottage, a new dream got unlocked inside of her, one that included her and Bucky and their very own little stand in the market.

“Can we stop by the shop before we go home?” She asked tentatively.

“Sure, why? Did you forget something there yesterday?”

She has been to the shop a couple of times, curious to meet the important people in Bucky’s life and possibly have friends of her own, too.

“No, just wanna show Sarah the ring,” she said, a shy smile lighting up her happy face.

Bucky brought her hand to his lips, kissing her ring finger this time, “to the shop it is.”

~

Everything was going amazingly and she wished with all her heart that it would stay that way, but unfortunately, the very next day was a day for another fight that none of them saw coming.

Bucky still hasn’t recovered from her little stunt a few weeks ago and today he came back to find the cottage empty again.

He should have locked the door. He shouldn’t have trusted that a ring on her finger might stop her old habits or give her a magical change of heart.

What about all the small moments she had shared? Did those mean nothing to her?

Bucky’s anger and feeling of betrayal wiped away everything nice that had happened between the two of them, only remembering that she never wanted to be here in the very first place.

“Why are you so adamant about making me lose my mind?” Bucky asked, pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.

“I’m not! Would you just listen?!” She yelled back, startled by the harsh treatment.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Bucky shouted as if he didn’t hear her.

“I was just—”

“Wandering through the forest alone is dangerous, I’ve told you time and again, and yet you keep doing it!”

“Would you listen to me?!” 

“No! You acted like you would stop running, so what changed?!” Bucky threw his big arms in the air, making her take a step back.

Bucky looked bigger than he usually did when he was livid like that.

“I wasn’t running!” She repeated, her voice tinged with anger of her own at the distrust.

“Stop lying!” Bucky growled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.

“I’m not lying,” she insisted as she tried not to wince at the way Bucky held her forearm, her jaw clenched defiantly.

“Then what were you doing up the hill, huh?” Bucky unconsciously squeezed her arm harder.

“You’re hurting me.” She tried to pull away, but Bucky wouldn’t release her.

“You think you’re the only one who has fucking feelings?” Bucky shook her in his hold, unintentionally bruising her further.

She cried out but it fell on deaf ears, “Bucky, let me go!”

“Do you think what you do doesn’t affect me just because I’m not a goddamn human?!” He forced her closer, making her tears fall as he barked in her face.

His words hung heavy in the air, echoing through the spacious room.

“Bucky, please,” she tried again, not wanting to fight anymore.

Bucky finally listened, suddenly shocked at his actions as he let her arm go.

It’s been so long since he had made her cry and he just ruined everything good he had worked on building with her.

She just stood there, whimpering in pain as she held her arm to her chest.

Bucky watched her roll the sleeve of her winter dress up to look at her arm and there they were: thick fingerprints on her flesh.

“I— I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to get closer to look at her arm, swallowing hard.

To his surprise, she let him.

“I’m sorry, little human.” Bucky wiped a few of her tears away, regret evident in his voice.

“I wasn’t running,” she repeated, pushing her hands in the pockets of her dress, “I was collecting berries to decorate the cake I made earlier.” She pulled handfuls of now ruined wild strawberries, raspberries and blackberries out of her pockets and dropped them on the wooden table for him to see.

She left Bucky alone to stare at the berries and went to the kitchen.

And boy did he stare.

He felt so stupid and ashamed at the way he had reacted. He just hurt her and she wasn’t even trying to leave. He wouldn’t let her explain either and had unjustly judged her.

She got out a cold water bottle from the fridge, pushing it to her bruised arm.

Bucky walked into the kitchen, shame branded on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, not knowing what to do to correct his mistake.

“What do you think?!” She irritably snapped at him, waving her bruised arm in the air.

“I just wanted to help!” Bucky barked back.

“Well, I don’t want your help!” She shouted.

“Fine! Don’t want it!” Bucky walked out, his feet stomping on the wooden floors.

He stormed out of the cottage, violently slamming the door behind him.

Bucky then realized what he has just done and how he had made the situation even worse. He kicked a rock so hard he was sure it flew to the other side of the forest as he saw birds flying disruptively.

“Damn it!” He yelled out loud, slamming his fist to the door, making her flinch inside the cottage.

The fight between the orc’s rough exterior and his rather tender feelings for her was torturing Bucky. What he meant to show was that he cared about her and was worried for her, but instead he’d done what he’d done.

She, on the other side of the wall, irately got out of the kitchen with the trash bin and swept the berries from the table, throwing them in the garbage.

When Bucky got inside again, she was cleaning the stain of the berries from the table, her features still twisted in a frown.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of anything he could say to fix this, but nothing came out. With a sigh, he left the cottage once more, leaving her all alone.

She sat down with a huff, throwing the cloth in her hand across the room.

She let her tears run in frustration.

It was supposed to be a peaceful night where they enjoyed a delightful desert that she has worked hard on making and was going to work hard on decorating.

She was trying to start a life with him. Why did he have to ruin it like that? She wasn’t running. How could she make him believe her?

She desperately wanted, needed Bucky to trust her.

She cried harder, feeling helpless in the face of her orc’s rage as her heart clenched at the thought of a happiness gone so soon.

Part V

~

Tag List:

@harrysthiccthighss @tinystudentfirepurse @lavendercitizen @tumblin-theworldaway @pretty-pop-princess-hs @lilymurphy03 @idontwannagomrstarkk @glxwingrxse @littlelioncub43 @mathletemadison @canned-rootbear @pandaxnienke @loveisallyouneed1125 @floral-recs @littlemoonkiller @hallecarey1 @vespasianphantom @vicmc624 @winters1917 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @blkmystery @millercontracting @trappedwriter @am-3-thyst @obsessedwithquinn @sydnielauryn @alittlerayof-pitchblack @olipiaa @peterparkersgirl-blog @buckybarnessweetheart @thealyrs @colorfulbluebirdpainter @stuckysgirl27 @ihavetwoholesforareason @princess-bee0 @pastel-noah168 @steeph-aniie @buckitostan @onthr-dream @sapphirebarnes @123iloveyou456 @ciaqui @lindasweetie @justherefortheficandsmut @xxdiaqiaoxx @morgthemagpie @wintrsoldrluvr @goldylions @serendipitouslife90 @sebastians-love @leelee1234love

[chuuyasheaven]

RAAAAAAAAH idk if this counts as an ask but this specific scenario has been marinating in my mind for WEEKS and i think you might enjoy it :3c

to put it shortly ive been thinking of hot-headed reader who has trouble containing their temper (im not projecting whar do you mean) x chuuya (established relationship) that goes from angst to smut…. teehee

basically chuuya and reader begin arguing bc i hc that EVEN THOUGH CHUUYA IS EXTREMELY LOYAL AND DOTING TO THE ONES HE CARES ABOUT…. his temper often gets the best of him. Recently, chuuya had been very busy, and reader knew that, and continuously made an effort to help him in whatever ways they could, be it making dinner/lunch for him, offering to help with paperwork, etc. BUT thing is.. chuuya isn't really noticing this and treats them like a nuisance. He hasn't said anything outright insulting or upsetting, but he treats reader so differently, like he's silently blaming reader for his own temper and mood. He doesn't even call them by their nickname/petname anymore, everything feels so distant now.

So in an attempt to yk, NOT give up on their relationship, reader decides to confront chuuya about this in a calm manner, but he blindly lashes out and reader is NOT having ANY of it… cue a petty back and forth between him and reader, and reader gets out of the house to cool off and meanwhile chuuya finally comes to his senses. He tries to reason with reader when they come back, but they end up doing exactly what chuuya did to them, dismissing him and not accepting any form of half-assed apology. and so,,,,,, chuuya tries to make it up to reader,,,, if ikwym :3c

cue chuuya eating out reader like his life depends on it /jjj ((THIS IS SO LONG LMAO IM LITERALLY SOSORRY))

"You're not getting tired of me, are you?" // C. Nakahara

Summary. Recently, Chuuya has been kinda distant lately, mostly due to his work. This also resulted into you mostly overthinking— what if he isn't at the office all the time just like says? With this thought at the back of your mind, you tried to make an effort to be nice and caring as possible, only for Chuuya to decline the food you make him, denying any help you offer and barely spending time, which made the thoughts even more scary. When you can't take it anymore, you snap, at first he didn't get what your problem was until he thought about your earlier attempts. Now driven with guilt, Chuuya wants to assure you're the most important thing to him and makes up for his actions in the process.

Tags. Chuuya N. / afab! Reader, the summary pretty much already tells the story, angst to smut to fluff maybe, miscommunication, Reader prolly has anxiety, swearing, ooc! Chuuya, suspicions of cheating, Chuuya didn't notice at first but it's okay he'll make it up by licking pussy ^_^, might be cringe, short too idk, Reader might be KINDAAA based off me, petnames (baby, doll, darlin', sweetheart), oral sex (afab! receiving), praising, overstimulation? , p in v, who knows maybe i fucked up the ask and wrote smth else, for the first time ever porn WITH plot, might have a rushed end, might contain grammar errors, etc.

"Hey, Chuuya, wanna eat? I made your favorite!", you said with a nervous tone painted in your voice, which Chuuya didn't really notice. "No, baby, I can't. Sorry, maybe next time?", he answered without even exchanging looks with you, just doing his paperwork as if it was more important to him. It's been like this for several days already and you did nothing but trying to help Chuuya to make things easier, but he didn't budge. You slowly started to get annoyed and just walked away to eat by yourself, silently.

With all kind of negative thoughts which caused you to overthink. These "thoughts" didn't leave you alone since he's become more distant. What if he's losing interest? What if he's not always late in the office? Am I annoying him and a burden? After you finished eating, you just put his plate into the fridge and sat alone in your living room. Some while later, Chuuya came to see you for a few minutes before returning to work. He tired hugging you but you rejected it. Confused, he looks at you before asking. "What's wrong, doll?", did he seriously just ask you that? After pushing away for the— what? The millionth time for his work? At this innocent question you snapped, well, not really but you were beyond pissed.

When Chuuya told you that he was probably busy for the next days, you understood, at first. Knowing Chuuya, he could make some time for you in between, right? He was your really loyal, sweet and loving boyfriend, caring was he too, of course Chuuya should be able to make atleast a little time. And to his credit, he did, at first. He took breaks in which he spent time with you, cooking your food with you, and also other activities you guys normally do. But with time, Chuuya got more and more work and spent less and less time with you. You also understood at first, and trying to be a good girlfriend, you tried to take some work off his back by doing some paperwork with him, only to deny you. Don't get Chuuya wrong, he appreciated it, but he'd rather do it himself. You understood, leaving him be, but then he started to work late, staying behind in the office. That's when you started to overthink a little. You really didn't want to let you thoughts get to you, Chuuya is loyal and so loving he would never, right? Why was he even staying so late in the first place? Was it because you constantly asked him to help to the point he wanted to work in the office at work? These thoughts would slowly consume you later on, and instead of speaking with Chuuya about it, you kept it to yourself, you didn't want to annoy him anyways. It's been 3 days later and he didn't even say a single word to you, just work, work, work. Were you even Chuuya's top priority at this point? You just let him distance himself, in hope of him noticing your presence. All this did was make the situation worse, to the point where you cried yourself to sleep at night feeling unwanted. Did Chuuya finally notice? No, his head is still drowned in paperwork. "Chuuya, do you have time right now?" — "No. Go do something else, doll, I still have work left." His tone had some harshness to it, a hint of annoyance too. But maybe it was because of the stress because of work. "I could help him maybe.", you told yourself, you don't want him to overwork himself, has he even eaten today? "Well, maybe I could help with the paper—" — "You can't, so please go. I still have a lot left." — "But I could—" — "Just go, I'm busy. I can't really talk with you 'cause you're gonna distract me." What a reason, but you can't let him push you away now, can you? "Chuuya, please, I just wanna help you—" — "Just leave me the hell alone and do something else. Look, I love you for trying, I don't need your help the only this you're doing right now is distracting me." "If you say so." Was all you said before leaving his home office without saying another word.

That was the last time you talked to him during these days, but today, was the day you finally snapped at him for pushing you away all these days. And for what did he push you away? For trying to be nice and take some shit off his back? "What's wrong?! What's wrong is that you pushed me away for— what? A week and a half?!", you explained with anger behind your voice, which Chuuya wasn't familiar with. "Doll, I didn't push you away—", before he could speak you went on. "Stop with the bullshit. Whenever I tried helping with anything you always denied me! I can't do this anymore.", you said with a crack in your voice, now Chuuya slowly got pissed too, was it his fault for having an asshole of a boss?

"Do you think I want to do this? Who in the hell would participate in such work as a fucking joke?!", he said rather louder than you. "Your damn work seems to be more important that me, when was the last time you looked me in my face?", you stood up from the couch. "You wouldn't even know what to do!", "I could've if you took some fucking time to explain!", you shouted back, this is where Chuuya might have lost his temper. "Why the hell should I? You won't even understand when I tell you to leave! I'm sorry if the world doesn't fucking revolve around you, some people have other priorities?!", his voice got angrier and louder.

"Appearently I'm not your first priority, which is what I'm supposed to be?! I just wanted to spend time with you, but if I'm so fucking 'distracting' then I'll leave!", "Oh, so now you can take a damn hint?", he called after you tried to walk away. "What?", you stopped and turned around to face him. "Fuck you, then. I'm done, go do your work which is more important to me! All I was doing was to try—", "I don't give a fuck if you were "trying" shit! Just fucking don't because it won't matter anyway all you're being is annoying and desperate.", Chuuya shouted at you.

"So I'm annoying you now?", you said, your voice going quieter. "Yeah, with the way you were constantly up in my shit. You're not the most important thing right now, just stop trying to stress me more than you already are.", when he said that, you were facing the floor, fighting back the angry tears that were building up. "Alright, go do your work. I'll leave you to it.", you muttered, walking towards your door to take a walk. Chuuya just tsk'ed and went back to his room. It was quiet in the apartment, Chuuya was working on some papers left when he thought about your earlier argument. Wondering why you started it, he thought about what you said and slowly realized that what you said was true. He has gotten more distant, he was a little rude to you about leaving him alone and barely paid you and your attempts to help attention.

Knowing he probably fucked up in those past days, hurting your feelings and calling you 'annoying and desperate' probably caused the biggest guilt he ever experienced. Chuuya tried calling you but you hung up instantly. Okay, reasonable. The second time he called you took you're time to pick up. "Hey, baby—", "What do you want?", you asked coldly. "I thought you wanted to be left alone.", Chuuya could hear the pain in your voice. "Look, darling, you know I didn't mean what I said. It was the stress—", you really didn't wanna hear him right now, especially his excuses. "Sorry, Chuuya but I don't really wanna talk right now, since I'm annoying you anyways, talk to you later.", before getting another word out, you hung up. Chuuya just took deep sigh and thought of ways to apologize and make it up to you.

You first left at 6pm but returned at 8pm, you were a little tired after walking a lot so you looked forward to lay in your shared bed, alone again probably. You changed into Chuuya's shirt just like you have been these last several days for some missing closure, not forgetting your shorts before you sat on the bed to be on your phone. Not even five minutes later, the door creaked open, revealing Chuuya with a guilt driven face. "What?, you asked him once again. "Can we talk, please?", you just stared at him before nodding. He sat down on the bed, patting the space next to him, you moved to the edge of the bed to sit down next to him.

"I'm sorry,", Chuuya started. "I'm sorry for neglecting you these past days, didn't mean to make you feel like a burden.", "So you finally got the hint?", you ask sarcastically. "Baby, I mean it. I shouldn't have priotized my work over you and pushed you away during it. I never wanted to feel unimportant.", he held your hand now, gently caressing it. "The stress made me act this way probably and i shouldn't have lashed out at you. You forgive me?", your gaze was still as cold. Chuuya just pulled you close to him, finally after a week, this made you realize that you missed him more than you thought.

Chuuya stroked your back, kissing your forehead first, then your cheeks, and lastly, your lips— those lips he hasn't kissed for something which felt like an eternity. He just wanted to make it up to you one way or another. "Lay down, dollface, wanna make you feel good.", Chuuya said to you while he was holding your chin. "I haven't fully forgiven you yet, y'know that, right?", looking away while you said this, Chuuya just had to chuckle. "You're gonna when I'm done with you, trust me.", you rolled your eyes and just laid back like he wanted. Chuuya moved himself between your legs, removing the shorts and panties blocking his path and letting your legs hang over his shoulders.

"No need to tense up, pretty, jus' relax,", he whispered, pressing kisses to your thighs, never breaking eye contact. Those kisses started to get closer and closer to your cunt, which was waiting for his tongue. Once his mouth got to it's destination, Chuuya started his work. He ate you out like his life depended on it, but he made sure he won't make a big mess. You where quietly moaning, trying to not be heard by him. "Why so quiet, sweetheart?", he lightly teased, you just looked away again. "C'mon, look at me. I wanna make you feel good, remember that?", you looked back at him, your cheeks were slightly flushed and lust was filled in your eyes. Chuuya dived back in and kept his eye contact with you, looking at you while you try to bite down your moans. This only made him suck on your clit, which also broke your silence.

It didn't take long for you to finish with Chuuya looking at you while pleasuring you. As you came on his tongue, still breathing unsteady, Chuuya got up between your legs. "You're so perfect like this, darlin'.", he whispered before kissing you, you could loosely taste yourself on his tongue. While he was kissing you, he freed his cock out of his pants. Chuuya stopped kissing you for a second to insert his dick inside you. He stroked your folds with his tip to catch some slick and entered almost easily, as if your cunt was sucking him in. "Fuck, I forgot how good you felt around me. Forgive me for neglecting this perfect— oh, fuck!", he cut himself off by starting to thrust.

If you weren't loud earlier, you definitely were now. Chuuya was kissing you while being inside you, thrusting while his lips were on yours, whispering "I love you"s and apologies to you. "You're so good for me, fuck— I love you so much.", his thrusts got sloppier, meaning he was close. Your arms were thrown around his neck as you threw your head back, you could feel your upcoming orgasm. "Chuuya— shit, 'm so close, please don't stop!", "Wasn't planning on it, you feel way too good for that, baby.", as your cunt clenched down around him, he surprisingly moaned, instantly cumming inside you. He thrusted once more and that's when you came undone a second time.

"So. . did you change your mind, doll?"

@moth-of-mythos // @pretendtobesick04 // @alastors-deerest // @shi-nakano // @samutoru // @munnaitorei // @sjsnsidream // @shuwyyx // @skelitea // @xaviawinter // @cvidy // @cherrytreegrove // @skk-lover // @pe4rl-diver // @walking-simp

Sorry if ur tag didn't work 😕 also sorry if I fucked the storyline up

[mrsackermannx]

chef!sukuna who’s still lower in the rank than he wants to be, but so close to being a sous. tonight is his night to do the night’s special dish, finally. he earned this. he knew that if the head chef just let him, he could create the best dish ever served at this damn place.

so, he does just that.

he’s immediately scolded, the dish uses too many ingredients, the head says. too much to prepare. too ambitious. even though he used all of the left over ingredients from the menu’s usuals. 0% waste, 0% additional cost.

sukuna curses, taking a deeper drag of his cigarette. “make sure no table gets that shit,” he hears, with his fists clenching at his sides. ill go to the gym after this, he thinks, yeah, punch the fuck out of that bag.

it turns out that only table 8 has the dish, your table. the server messed up and now they’re crying in the back to the porter because they’ve been fired on the spot. “i told you not to fucking take it! have you never done expo-“

sukuna stalks calmly to the shaking waiter, “show me table eight-“ he sighs, levelling the head chef with a glare, sukuna was much larger, much stronger than him, difference in rank or not. he stood down, stalking down the other side of the kitchen with a huff. “ignore him, i wanna see who’s eating my dish, come on, let’s go.”

a reassuring pat to the shoulder from sukuna was almost enough to make him cry even more. sukuna kind of hated everyone.

“just there, chef. the couple, bedside the pillar on the left…its um…her, chef.” he grins, watching how transfixed the normally gruff man is, “your girl heh heh.”

“shut up,” he says, but he smiles a little.

he watches you, sat opposite some guy you hardly look interested in, you’re beautiful, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, as always, his eyes are drawn to you, no other woman could compare.

he watches you slice through his dish, the fork at your lips, as soon as it reaches your mouth you make a noise of such rapture, a sudden quiet falls upon the floor of the restaurant.

it’s almost weird how heat rushes low at the sight and the sound, he can’t remember the last time anyone else fired him up like this. he never took himself to have any kind of food fetish, either. yet watching you eat his dishes always seems to be an erotic exchange he never anticipates.

“oh…him? think they’re married?”

“i don’t think so.”

that man seems to hiss at you, eyes on his watch, barely touching his dish. “i wanted pizza downtown, god.”

you shake your hand in dismissal, shoving another forkful in your mouth. “i wanted this, i always want this.”

sukuna let’s out a breathy fuck, and the server practically faints.

no one was immune to sukuna’s charm, then, it seemed.

“oh, fuck, table 7 saw me. fuck, chef ive already been fire-“

“go and give them a reason not to fire you. go, go to your table kid, it’s still yours, right?”

the table beside you seems to have called him over, asking for the same dish you seem to believe has came from heaven, telling anybody who asks.

sukuna can’t help but enjoy the lively affair, as the restaurant manager tries to explain over and over to more and more tables that the chef special has been cancelled. oh, how he loved this little bit of chaos.

“why?” your voice clatters through the cacophony like a piece of silverware on crockery. “this dish is phenomenal, the best ive ever eaten here and in this city, in this country-“

“miss-“

“taste it! can you not taste the hard work? the thought? its the best thing ive ever eaten. the chef who made this has impeccable taste and talent.”

your laughter rings through the place at your partners embarrassment. sukuna is about to pry himself away and head back into the kitchen, leaning on the side of the bar and then…your eyes meet, another forkful is waiting before those glossed lips. another sweet sound of joy rings through the air.

now you see him, huh?

your smile is sweeter than agave, “it’s you.”

your words are lost on everyone around you, but to sukuna he hears them as if you whispered them right against his ear.

sukuna was a tall, broad, and unquestionably handsome man, unmissable out of his chef whites, invisible in them, somehow. obscured by the ambient lighting of the restaurant.

you near him, like a moth to a flame, a sensual air to the way your hips flick toward him. “you-“

the head chef storms through to the restaurant floor, the door slamming you both into the corresponding wall. his large arms wrap around you, his hand cups the back of your head.

he slowly retracts his hand, and your chest rises as you resist the urge to press your cheekbone into his palm, “are you okay?”

his voice is deep and addicting, dark and dripping down your throat.

you’re beaming at him, like he’s an angel, like he’s somebody you already adore. he gifts you a lover’s laugh, “you seem to be the only satisfied person in the building tonight.”

“seems like you’ve satisfied me sir.” you wink, still letting his aura press you into the wall, he cages you in with his arms.

“oh?”

“last thursday. that soup, you made it, didn’t you…?”

“sukuna,” he answers for you, “maybe.”

“seafood special last month?”

“yes, and your name?”

for some reason he’s out of breath, you’re so close, so fancy in your silk dress, clad in jewellery that sparkles even under these dimmed lights. “reader, you…you’re a genius.”

“so you came to thank me personally?” he leans closer, swiping sauce from the corner of your lip. it lingers on his thumb, his eyes chase yours as he licks it. “how sweet of you.”

[realcube]

WRATH & LUST . t.kei / y.tadashi

synopsis ✧ you hate tsukishima kei. you do everything in your power to make his life miserable but nothing works. now you have no choice but to fuck his best friend

cws/tags ✧ college au , enemies to enemies who screw, cursing, slut-shaming (both ways)

parts ✧ i. ii. iii. iv.

your friends call it 'inexplicable hatred', 'misdirected anger' and 'envy' but they couldn't be more wrong.

your feelings towards tsukishima kei were completely rational in your mind. he carried himself as though he was better than everyone and treated those around him like filth, yet he's still tolerated and his shitty attitude is even deemed charming by some self-loathing girls at your college.

it irritates you to no end how he behaves. too cocksure and too sassy; no dignified man should never act in such a manner, you believe. you could go on about other reasons you dislike him — his style atrocities and his punchable face, to name a couple — but you shan't.

you intended on going about your life, simply hating him from afar as you didn't see the need to stir up petty drama. but he made it impossible for you to do so.

one day he was sat behind you in a maths lecture. the seats are tiered so he is slightly higher up than you are. while making notes, his pen slips out of his hand and tumbles forward, landing somewhere under your desk.

you do the polite thing by making an attempt to search for it, but it is dark under the table you can't seem to find it.

a couple moments pass, and he remarks lowly, "are you just going to stare it?"

white hot rage courses through you at his comment. what ever happened to 'please'? to 'would you mind'? you were about to do him a favour by fetching his pencil and he still has the audacity to be snarky.

fuck that, he can pick up his own damn pen. you leave it alone and try to focus on the lecture.

you make it through the whole thing without him bothering you again, probably using a spare or borrowed pen. once the class has been dismissed, you gather your things and wait for the people in your row to start filtering out so you can leave, that is when you feel a gentle tap on the shoulder.

you turn around and lock eyes with a tan, freckled boy with mousy brown hair, he wears an awkward smile and point to your desk, "excuse me, my friend dropped his pencil and i think it landed under your desk. could you get it, please?"

his voice is meek and demeanour similar to that of a shy puppy, which is why it almost pained you to scoff at him and say, "tell your friend to stop being such a cunt, then maybe."

you rush out of the door, keen to get as far away from those two boys as you can. yet as you leave you hear the blonde's voice mutter in your wake, "what a moron."

after marinating on the situation during the retelling to your friend group, and a group vote, you came to the conclusion that perhaps your response to yamaguchi — you learned his name from one your friends — might have been a bit severe. but in your defence, you were peeved by the comment tsukishima had made prior.

it's as though manners and etiquette are totally lost on him.

ೃ⁀➷

two weeks passed since your last little altercation with tsukishima, and you were proud to say you haven't been involved in any conflict with him since then. mostly making snide remarks in passing or exchanging dirty looks in the hall.

however, that all changed when your professor was late to one of your classes. they expressed in the past that they prefer students to wait outside the lecture theatre when they aren't present, so naturally this caused many people to be clogging the hallways.

there was a long queue of people waiting to enter, you stood far away from the door, while tsukishima and yamaguchi happened to be standing opposite. you couldn't help but notice the outfit tsukishima had on: skinny light brown trousers with a black belt, and a pressed short-sleeve white shirt, that was a bit see-through.

you didn't know much about this guy but from his slightly toned figure, which was made apparent by his choice in clothes, you could tell he does some sort of sport. probably basketball, considering how tall he is, but maybe golf. he acts like a golf player.

lost in thought for too long, your finally yanked out of your own internal monologue by a familiar voice snapping, "what are you staring at?"

you blink, and before you even have time to process what he just accused you of, you blurt out, "has anyone told you that you're dressed like a slut today?"

yamaguchi must slap a hand over his mouth to suppress his burgeoning laughter. tsukishima's eyes narrow at his friend's offensive display, before they snap back to you and he argues, "really? me? i'm dressed appropriately. take a look at what you're wearing."

he motions to your outfit: jorts and a tank top. maybe not the most stylish choice but definitely not as whorish as his attire. "it might be more revealing but still not as slutty as you."

he rolls his eyes like what you said was contradictory, wearing smug smile. he wants you to believe what you said is nonsensical and 'proved his point' but all it does it anger you to no end.

not fond of his facial expressions, you retort, "don't pull stupid faces and play dumb. you're already dumb enough as is, so it isn't a very becoming look on you."

with furrowed brows, he opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, "and i can see your chest through your shirt. no one wants to see that!"

"you say that while your tits are out, have some self-respect."

"at least i have tits. you're wearing a short sleeve to show off the muscles you don't even have!"

yamaguchi is thoroughly entertained by this squabble, which is why it pains him to chime in, "uh, tsukki. the lecturer is here, let's go."

as much as he wanted to get the last word in, tsukishima glances between tadashi and the empty halls before he decides his education is actually kinda important and begins to make his way inside the theatre. it was good timing because he didn't have a witty response anyway.

your heart is beating rapidly, though you're unsure why. you gaze at the empty walls for a minute to collect yourself before heading into class as well. you totally won that fight, is what you tell yourself.

ೃ⁀➷

ever since the disagreement you had with tsukishima in hallways of the maths building, what was once comments and glares has escalated to threats and insults being made boldly in each other's face.

despite the fact you ate him up the first time, you've been on a losing streak since then. you feel as though nothing you say gets under his skin anymore.

you've tried belittling his face, his smarts, his personality, his mother but nothing seems to work. you even tried to ridicule his glasses but that didn't work either!

"hey, four eyes!"

"hey, five guys."

what the fuck? you weren't sure if that was a dig at your diet, your weight or your quantity of sexual partners but regardless, you could not let that slide.

verbal abuse wasn't working so naturally the next option was physical. you attempted to trip him in the halls but his legs were so long he stepped over you without even noticing. you attempted to pour milk over him but tadashi noticed and pulled him out of the way. you considered pushing his knees while he was standing in front of you but you realised that if he fell backwards his weight would crush you and you'd probably die.

all of that was so elementary and childish though; high school bullying at best. you need college level bullying. you thought about planting weed in his bag and calling the campus police on him but your friends said that was 'too far'. you thought about leaking his nudes but firstly you don't have them and secondly, he's already walking around college half naked anyway so he likely wouldn't be phased by it.

the hard thing about trying to torture a boy like tsukishima is you don't know enough about him to know what will truly drive him insane. you know he cares about his grades but sabotaging his test scores is beyond your means. he doesn't have any dignity so you can't humiliate him. even if you tried, his little gremlin of a best friend would probably catch onto you anyway.

that green haired boy was just as bad as his handler. always gawking at you to make sure you don't try anything; literally glued to tsukishima's ass at all times — it's so gross. and it gave you the most disgustingly perfect idea.

[seventhcallisto]

Chapter IV — "mirrors."

Deep down.

Toc/cw; suggestive undertones, dialog, and themes. Pre-heat haze, san getting angry, ooc yunho and san. More world building, possessiveness. I'm bad with cw. COMMENTS PUSH MY MOTIVATIOOON Thank you♡

It's four days before your heat. Hongjoong, and you are trying your best not to be obvious about your affections, but it's getting harder the closer you get to your heat. Maybe it's the consistency of your schedule. Waking up at the earliest of dawn, writing down new lyrics as soon as you reach for your phone and then immediately getting up and beginning your day that had changed, which ended up with you feeling strange. However, today is not your typical schedule day.

You thought you'd have more time, really. Seriously. Now you're a heaving, writhing mess under your blankets. Not knowing what's going on because it's the first time you've felt this after your diagnosis. Too hot. Too cold. Never enough. Tossing and turning. Burning to be touched. It only lingers for an hour like a warning sign. The sense of being on the verge of heat. You don't know exactly what to do or what to say. Google is fairly helpful. You especially don't want to leave your room when all of your members are alphas. Even if they're taking scent suppressants, your smell is still extremely sensitive to them.

He hardly remembers you tucking him in a while ago now. Suddenly, your words echo.

"If you remember in the morning, then I give you full permission." To what? He doesn't know. All day- all week. As san gets ready, sits with wooyoung, does some more practicing, eats out with some friends. He still doesn't know what you meant, and he's grown frustrated about it. He's completely lost from the amount of drinking he did with wooyoung.

Maybe the over drinking thing is getting to san. Woo has got to stop daring him to drink more. He can't believe he still allows him to get away with it. As san arrives home around mid day from filming, he realizes it's time to settle in for the rest of the day.

Your scent lingers in the apartment, and it's a good thing that jongsik has told them to begin taking scent suppressants to prevent any of them from practically jumping you. It provides the self-control they need, but it doesn't prevent the thoughts that course through everyone's minds when they get the tiniest scent of you.

It may be thanks to the scent suppressants they have complete control over what they're feeling and doing currently. But it doesn't mean none of them want to knot you. Surely, san is speaking on behalf of his members that it would be heaven to do so. If they didn't have the scent suppressants.. well, san doesn't want to pop a boner thinking about it.

So, for now, they're just coping with your pre-heat scent all over the apartment. No one is allowed in other than the guys. Your pack. San definitely prefers it that way. He peels his jacket off when he steps through the threshold of the doorway, quickly closing it behind him to lock your scent inside.

Seonghwa prepares another meal for you, considering you're still cooped up in your room. And san wonders if hongjoong has been in and out of there, based purely on the smell of him lingering in the hallway. There's been talk about you and hongjoong. Gossip amongst the guys. The papers san found a while ago proves so.

He slaps the paper down in front of wooyoung. Taping his pointer finger against the signed line. "Look! She let him sign it!" san whines, grabbing at his hair. "This is driving me crazy," he huffs as he paces. On wooyoungs bed, yeosang and wooyoung scan the piece of paper. Jaws slack in shock.

There's no way they can dismiss this. Somehow, san got his sticky fingers on your heat paperwork. They don't say anything about that, but the signed line for your heat helpers is only signed by hongjoong. The pack alpha, yes they could ask him. But that would be extremely disrespectful, questioning the pack alpha.

Woo runs a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. "Well, what if we ask- what if she gets uncomfortable? What if she doesn't want us to sign it and she feels pressured to say yes?"

Jongho enters their shared bedroom, questionable looks between his other members. The paper in question catches his eyes. "Why do you have that?" He asks, shutting the door behind him.

Does everyone know about the paper?

San struggles to come up with an explanation for the youngest member. "I- wo-" he looks to wooyoung, wooyoung lays the paper on the blanket, putting his hands up, he claims not to know anything about it. San has no other option except for explaining himself to jongho and what he's gathered the past few days.

Once san is finished explaining in the most rushed manner. Yeosang speaks up, looking to him. "I'm not asking her." Yeosang says, laying down his foot. "If she doesn't want us on it, it's not our place to ask her," yeosang looks back down to the paper in wooyoungs hand. "Put it back where you found it." jongho says, uncrossing his arms from his chest and leaving the room.

San looks back at the paper, propped up at the corner of the kitchen. It's not usual for paperwork to be left around here and there. But the fact you left it out in plain sight when San had to go and physically see it in your room to get it is very suspicious. He can even see the obvious bold letters spelling 'Heat Assessment'.

He not so subtly runs past seonghwa, slamming his keys down on the counter next to the paper. Seonghwa looks up from the dish he's preparing for you, looking at san, who hovers over the counter.

"Hey," seonghwa calls san. San shakes from his thoughts, turning toward the older member. Paper in hand. He reads seonghwas signature, cursive and strategically placed next to hongjoongs. "What are you doing with that?" Seonghwa doesn't flinch. he doesn't even ask about the content of the paper. Truly. Everyone knows, and now seonghwas signature is on it.

"How do you know what I have?" San asks, walking across the kitchen to seonghwa who spreads out some slices of apples on your plate. Seonghwa doesn't look up, "we all know what that is." It's a lie. Many of them dont know. San knows it, too. seonghwa pops a slice into his mouth, biting down on it. The souring scent of san fills the kitchen. "Why has -" he slams the hand holding the paper down next to the plate. Suddenly Agitated. "Why has no one asked about it?"

Seonghwa looks to san, finishing cutting the cheese with the knife in hand. "Asked? It's none of your business." Maybe seonghwa is a little harsh about it. He knows that, for fact. The door down the hallway pops open. San doesn't take a second to tell seonghwa off. Instead, he's marching down the hallway.

Hongjoong is just about to enter your room when he feels san pull him back by his arm. A deep set frown over his eyebrows. "Why didn't you tell us about this!?" He places the paper against hongjoongs chest. Hongjoong looks between the paper and san. Pulling it off.

San is picking for a fight. Seonghwa and hongjoong know. Whatever your scent has done has triggered san to be more possessive of you and more aggressive. Your heat is just around the corner, so the tension is rising in the apartment, and it's higher than ever. The boiling point has been reached since this morning.

"Why is your name on this!" San belts, looking between hongjoong and seonghwa.

Yunho steps out of his shared room with yeosang. The shorter peeps over his shoulder to look for where the yelling is coming from. The door creaks open across from them. Wooyoung and jongho peak out. Confusion written on their faces. Lastly. Mingi is the one to step out from the last bedroom on the left, right across from your room where they're currently at.

"San" hongjoong tenses, watching the way san challenges him. The sudden twisting smell of sans scent burning in his nose. "Tell me," san says through clenched teeth. Seonghwa tries to pull at his shoulder to lead him away from the leader but san shrugs his hand off roughly, cursing through his teeth. Sans tough hands shoot out, pushing hongjoong into mingi. The leader catches himself quickly with the help of mingi. Staring wide-eyed at san.

San, who just opened your door and went into your room. Locking the door behind him. He can hear the pounding on the other side. Drowning out his members, San steps forward into your dim bedroom. The only light comes from the window directly across from your door. It shines the dark room only slightly.

San calls you name and hears a shuffle of things in your closet. The walkover is draining. He can feel himself being pulled in by your sweet scent, invading his lungs. He knocks on it gently.

In the gap, your fingers slide the sliver of the door open. Eyes still blinking back sleepiness. San has to take a sharp breath at the invasion of his senses. You're curled up on the makeshift bed in your closet. A nest you made.

Plenty of clothes san has noticed were missing are strewn in a pile under you. Clad in hardly any clothing to combat the heat of your body. San bends down to your level. You still seem you. The smell isn't in full bloom. San can tell, somehow.

" 'Mega?" San calls to you ever so gently, watching you rub your eyes. "Sannie?" you respond, voice filled with recognition. The sound of your voice makes the tension in sans shoulders dissipate. You stumble up and out of the closet, anxiety begging to settle into your bones. He backs up to give you space. Did he even plan anything he was gonna say?

"What are you doing in my room?" You ask, rubbing your arm because of the cold breeze, and definitely not because you're nervous. "Doesn't my preheat scent affect you or whatever? It's not safe.." You mumble the last bit. San struggles to answer. "The scent suppressants.." he trails off. Watching you rub at the sweat on your forehead. He watches you twitch every so often. You don't meet his eyes. Grimacing slightly. "San.. what did you need?" You know he's not here to talk about something so simple. And the settling pain of your incoming heat is twisting your guts to make room for a big knot at the sudden interest of an alpha in your presence.

San sighs, all frustration draining from him in your presence. Wrapped around your smell. "The heat assessment paper." He says, you take a sharp breath. "What about it?" You turn to look away. San stands across from you.

"Do you really want me to sign it?" He asks in a single breath. You blink up at him, swaying in the cold room. "I said yes last night, did I not?" You huff.

You're kinda mean when you're in pre-heat. San thinks. He goes quiet. That's when you reach out, cupping his arm. Warm eyes meeting his in the dark. "San, I want all of you to sign it"

And you're being extremely bold. "All of us?" San mumbles out, shocked. It's not true, right? San, woo, and yeosang, can all be there for your heat? He won't have to feel terrible about signing it. His members (who are equally infatuated with you) can, too?

"You want all of us to sign it?" San phrases better, grabbing your palm in his, off his arm. "Yes, sign it," you sigh, growing impatient. This is why hongjoong and seonghwas name is on your paperwork.

San feels the hope bubble in his throat. Really, he can have it all. And especially when all he wants is to be with you at this moment. He doesn't care, you want him, and he wants you. Sans tough and somewhat calloused hands wrap around your jaw on each side, his fingers glancing over your primary scent gland, which makes you shudder into him. Your name falls off his lips as he searches yours. You can't help but stare at the lines in his perfectly round lips. As soon as his eyes fall over your own. He's pulling you into him.

You can feel the passion in sans touch, and you can feel the desperation of his kiss as it becomes more heavy. His left hand slipped down to your waist to pull you even closer. His fingertips teasing the hem of your shirt. Lips move in tandem, San wants to completely be overwhelmed by you, to be molded by your words and do whatever you want him to. And you want to completely drown into San.

Sans feet shift under him as you guide him, your hands slither into his hair. When you tug gently, san sighs into your mouth, never does he part. Nor does he want to. You know if you keep going, you'll succumb into the inner war of letting San have you here and now. San is oblivious to this. He's slowly letting himself slip into the other mindset he's pushed off for so long, the one where he gets to have you and take care of you like an alpha should.

You shake him out of it. Pushing his shoulder back against the door. You dislodged yourself from his lips. A soft tug, and you're gone from San. He lets out a strangled sound at the lack of your touch. You can't be entangled like this when you're so close to your heat. You can't let this get to you. Breathing each other in, you softly speak. "You have to go," you tell him. San can feel the door rattle against his back.

"As soon as you're done signing, it needs to be turned into the heat sanctuary I'm going to be at. If you don't, the signatures will mean nothing."

So that's why you've been cooped up in your room instead of going to your heat sanctuary. You've been waiting for them to sign it. As soon as san feels the door tug from his back, and you quickly shoving him out. Yunho is pulling the rest of him. Scowling. A screwdriver in hand as they tried to pry open your door. "Why did you do that! That was dangerous! For both of you!"

San heard and felt your words.

Everyone has been withholding their urges all week. Perhaps the scent suppressants are working compared to how your first heat hit. When they didn't know that scent you were producing and why suddenly they wanted to cover you in their own scents. It's a lot less easy knowing that you're only a room away in an apartment full of alphas who are willing to give you anything. But you don't know that. Hongjoong does. He takes a shuddered breath when he stands at your door ealy that morning. He can smell your preheat scent seeping out of the cracks.

Hongjoong knocks a few times. Listening for any movement on the other side. The door swings open. He's smacked with a wall of your smell. "Hongjoongie," you sigh happily. Pulling him in. "Hey pretty girl" he answers, pushing the hair behind your ears and out of your face when you don't stop to turn around and keep pulling him to your closet.

"Look," you slide the door open, dropping the edges of his shirt to crawl inside. "Come," you beckon him down towards the floor, pulling at his hand. He grins, crawling in. He's much too big for your tiny closet, but you fit in it perfectly. Hongjoong can see the amount of clothes on the floor, it's like a mountain, and in the center of it, it's big enough for you and someone else to sit in.

You're so very eager to get hongjoong in that circle, just to see if it's big enough. "Once I get to the heat place, I can make a bigger one for all of us." You push at hongjoongs shoulders, and his back hits the clothing softly. He doesn't know exactly what you're doing until you're sitting atop him, trying to nestle your face into his neck. He places two hands on your hips.

You're scenting him now, hongjoong knows this but decides to ask anyway. Shoving your face as close as you can get to him, your lips breeze passes his glands. Your forehead falls there instead, rubbing back and forth to transfer your scent. Encouraging a shuddered breath out of him. "What are you doing, huh?" He pulls your head out of his neck, his right hand holding your nape softly. You huff, hongjoong scans your features in the dark.

"You don't smell like me," you pout, hongjoong laughs lightly. Maybe in a teasing way but more so in a 'that was really cute' kind of way. The grin on his face tells you what exactly he's thinking. "Don't laugh at me" you pull away, sitting up on his chest. You drain the breath out of him in the best way.

Hongjoong slips to sit up, holding you close to him and not any lower. He only has so much control for now, and he doesn't want to risk giving a certain area the stimulus. "I'm not," he bites his grin. "You are," you mumble, shaking your head from the fog. You plop it on his shoulder, holding him against you.

"I'm not even in my heat yet, and I'm exhausted," you say into his shoulder. Hongjoong sighs for you. "I know, I'm working on it," he kisses your head. "I'll get you a knot as soon as possible, okay?" The sentence sounds so innocent when it really isn't. His finger rubs the side of your neck, where your scent glands are.

The thought of seeing hongjoong above you, giving you his knot, being in you for the first time, flashes through your mind. Your voice gets stuck in your throat. You stop the pulse between your thighs the best you can. "You can't say that." You whimper, pulling off of him. It takes everything in you to do so. The omega in you cries to be closer. Hongjoong pats your hip as you land softly on the clothes next to him. This plan is driving you mad, and yet you still have a week of a long heat ahead of you. "Has san said anything yet?" You look to hongjoong.

Hongjoong shakes his head, watching you lean your head on his knee. Prettily poking your lips at him in the most frustrating of pouts. "What if he didn't hear me?.. What if he doesn't like me like that?" You mumble, closing your eyes and squishing your legs into your chest.

"He heard you. He does." hongjoong sighs, rubbing your cheek softly. You don't know if he's saying it to reassure you. But you really hope san did hear you. And you hope you're not getting your hopes up.

Hongjoong tells seonghwa first. He trusts seonghwa a lot. You trust seonghwa just as much. The idea of going to him first was completely a mutual idea.

Later in the morning, Hongjoong knocks on his door, the one he shares with mingi and san. Sans out today. Wherever he is, he decides not to learn the details. Lately, san has been giving him the cold shoulder. And hongjoong has some idea why.

On the other hand, joong isn't ready to tell mingi about you wanting them. Hongjoong knows that as soon as he tells mingi, mingi will lose himself and steal you away for the week. You might end up inducing Mingis rut in the process. It's just not a great idea to tell mingi before everyone else, no matter if he gets upset about knowing later.

So with that, as soon as hongjoong learned seonghwa was alone in his bedroom, hongjoong took the opportunity. Three knocks, and he's entering. Seonghwa rests on his bed, looking at his phone. Hongjoong takes the bed across from him. Seonghwa knows whatever conversation they're about to have. It's gonna be serious. He sits up, taking whatever hongjoong has got to say heads on.

Seriously, if hongjoong says that you two are dating exclusively, seonghwas heart might actually explode into tiny shards.

It begins the same as a nightmare seonghwa has been having for a couple of days. "You know she and i are together," hongjoong starts off with, not knowing how else to phrase it. Seonghwas mouth falls open. "I.. what?"

Hongjoong really doesn't know how to say this. But for your sake, he's trying. "We're dating. I think we are - anyway. I was the first one who asked her, " hongjoong kinda bluffs, he didn't ask. It was kinda set in stone as soon as your lips touched his. Seonghwa wants to urgently shake hongjoong to spill everything. "She wants us to be a more intimate pack if you get what I'm saying, more than what the media suggests." Seonghwa sucks a harsh breath in, eyebrows furrowed.

"She feels most comfortable with us, not only that but.." hongjoong tries to gather his words. "She likes all of us, more than friends, more than members. She wants us on her heat assessment." Hongjoong explains, he can't exactly tell seonghwa you like-love him, it's not his place too. If seonghwa wanted an answer, he could ask you himself.

"She wants all of us?" Seonghwa can't believe it, to be with you and not make it awkward amongst them, is this true? Seonghwa can share. He can play nice. He might even enjoy the idea of sharing with the entirety of the pack. It's something he doesn't really understand, but he's completely fine with anyway.

Hongjoong nods, signifying that seonghwa is correct. Seonghwa let's out a breath.

"I'll sign it." He let's his words freely flow.

And when seonghwa brings your breakfast for the day, you're surprised to see him. And he's very surprised to see you making a nest in your closet instead of relaxing in your bed. "Hwa?" You question, taking the plate gently, your round eyes look up to him, assessing his presence. It reminds him of that moment in the kitchen, and seonghwa grips his fingers into the clothes under him to prevent the blood flowing somewhere else. "Hi," he greets back with a hum. You place the plate down next to the closet door.

"Hungry?" He asks, watching your behavior. You shake your head. "Not really... My heat last time took a lot, and I still tried to eat as much as i could," you sigh. Seonghwa knows a heat will take everything out of you, and you still won't be hungry until after. Too driven by the urge to.. well, breed, really. He hums as he listens to you talk.

You look like the most beautiful person in his eyes. Even when seonghwa met you for the first time. Even before debut, when you were just a tiny beta that begged to be picked on just to bite back. Even during every bad hair day you claimed. He reaches out to smooth his hand over your hair. Your roots are beginning to show. As soon as your heat is over, you'll be long overdue for a touch-up. And seonghwa feels like tagging along for it. Just to watch your pretty face in the mirrors.

You lean into seonghwas hand as it trails down your face. Sighing softly into his palm. "I signed the papers." He gulps, pulling his hand back. You miss his warmth. Even if you are burning up. Your eyes fall.

"I don't want you to be there for my heat -" you sigh out. Seonghwas heart leaps into his throat. "I want you to take care of me, and I want you to be there after," You try to find the right words. Confessions are hard. "I like you, more than my member, more than friends," you mumble.

"You know how long I have waited to hear that?" Seonghwa laughs into his words. You blink once, twice. He pulls you into his chest. Hugging you tightly. His head falls over yours. Seonghwa isn't the most muscular member, but he still has arms to prove how he can hold you comfortably in his arms and steal you away at any moment.

"I like you too, so much." he mumbles into your hair. You pull back and look up at him, begging for a kiss with your smile. If you did, you'd both end up getting lost in each other. You cut the silence. "Could you bring me some dirty laundry?" You laugh, embarrassed. He snickers. "Sure" he knows exactly why.

Sharing a room with yeosang isn't the best, yunhos member doesn't say much about this odd situation. Lying face down on his blankets, yeosangs phone is propped up by his hand. Yunho, on the other hand, is watching a show on his laptop, propped up on his chest.

It started off with yeosang tossing and turning all night, ultimately it woke yunho up. And before yunho could get a clue of what's going on, yeosangs breathy sighs and whimpers had him shooting right up and out of bed. No way was he gonna stick around to listen to yeo have a wet dream.

The early morning dew completely encased the windows after a heavy night of rain. The flashing clock on the microwave told him it was around 2 am. He took his spot on the couch and watched a movie in silence. When from the corner of his eyes, wooyoung tiredly stepped out of the hallway.

Wooyoung stood rubbing his hand over his eye. There's no obvious sign to yunho that he knew what was going on with yeosang, but he had his suspicion. He doesn't greet woo when he lands softly on the other side of the couch. Both watching the movie in silence.

Yunho can't take silence much longer. Wooyoung obviously can't, either. "Have you seen the heat assessment paper?" He uses this conversation for topic? When obviously, yunho knows about it. "Yea, why?" He asks, turning his chin towards the dark-haired guy.

Wooyoung shakes his head like he's swaying his thoughts away. "Did hongjoong tell you his name was on it?" That gets yunho. No. Hongjoong did not tell him. Because yunho didn't know the leaders name was on the paper.

Besides the feeling of longing building in his stomach, yunho wanted to know what wooyoung getting at. "No, he didn't.. why are you asking?" It's a short answer but an even quicker question. Wooyoung doesn't dare spare a glance at yunho. Opting to just stay quiet. It's completely unlike him.

"Whatever reason she has him on the paper, it isn't our business -" yunhos words stop when wooyoung shoots up frustrated, whisper yelling towards yunho. "Yes! I know it shouldn't be any of my business it's hers- but- dammit! She's one of my best friends! I have a right to know!" Wooyoung seems to be drowned in his own outburst for yunho to get a word in.

Pieces fall and collide in yunhos mind. Watching his other member pace back and forth. "There's more to this, isn't there?" Yunhos words stop wooyoung in his track. The dark-haired guy turns to look at his taller friend. hum.

Yunho knows that look, the all familiar sign of hopelessness when you love someone so deeply, and yet you don't know what to do. He's had the same look consistently when you would split from their group to take photos with other idols. Other idols who yunho knows want you. Everyone wants you. The all familiar ace of K-pop.

When he'd sit back as you did video challenges, dancing and laughing with someone else whilst he watched in silence. He wished everyone knew you were his when, in reality, you didn't even know how he felt. Yunho knows that sinking feeling of possibly breaking something that can't be unbroken. Yunho knows these moments of laughter and bickering, but he wishes he could have those moments with you in a different way. A way that you both understand. Mated as a pair. Together in a more intimate way.

Wooyoung is as still as a mouse, caught in the cookie jar, smacking his lips. His eyes squint down, his hand coming up to the bridge of his nose. Wooyoung is estranged. He is tired of lying to himself.

"We all love her, don't we?" He says into his palm, the world doesn't seem to crash like he thinks it does. Yunho stands up, taking wooyoungs hand away from his face. Wooyoung sighs, facing yunhos eyes with diminishing confidence.

"It's her choice.." wooyoung says just as yunhos mouth falls open to speak. Pulling his wrist from the taller members grasp.

It truly is your choice to call on them if you want to. And when wooyoung turns away, he doesn't see the way yunho loses all confidence. Compared to his members, yunho has a lot to beat. If he had to fight for you, could he?

The hallway flur pass yunho. In an instance, he's pulling san out of your doorway, fuming. San has your scent all over him. Yunho does not ignore the pink tinting in his members' cheek or the way his lips are red. His lips pull back into a snarl as he barks at san about what he did wrong. What could have happened.

Sans lovesick eyes and dazed expression only pisses yunho off more. Even when he lets go, he's still towering over the dark-haired guy. A sudden urge of violence panging in his fists. Yunho isn't violent, no. He doesn't know what happened, but the way san reeks of you is making him feel as if he could commit a felony then and there really digs deep.

His members attempting to calm the situation only make things drown him. He's got to step back. He's got to get out of this cramped apartment where you linger around every corner. He turns on his heels, wanting to make a beeline for the door.

"She wants us to sign her heat assessment."

Sans voice speaks up, and yunho knows exactly who it's directed at. He can feel the stinging of sans dark eyes against his back. Still, as wooyoung looks to his friend, he can tell he got more info than he leads on. But the main shocker is what he said.

"What?" Wooyoung asks for confirmation. Heart leaping into his throat. It's got to be a hoax. Seonghwa and hongjoong linger in the back, silently observing. Mingi is the second to step forward, bending his neck to ask what he means. Jongho definitely gets onto what he's saying immediately. But he's almost tempted to barge into your room and ask you himself.

"All-" jongho gets cut off. "All of us." Sans smile is bitten back. He looks to wooyoung, then to yeosang, shock etched into their faces.

"That's what she said?" Yeosang gulps. San has never lied about anything you've said. No matter what. San respects you too much and this situation is too serious for lying. Yet, yeosang looks to the leader and eldest member to know anyways. Their names are on the paper, something you allowed.

Hongjoongs eyes hold curiosity as he watches all his members, he was right. He's smug that he was right. You are so consuming, it wouldn't be anything other than a surprise for any one of them to not be madly in love with you. You are the prettiest shining pearl in the sea that is the world. Hongjoong shakes out of his thoughts. Seeking out the begging and hopeful eyes of his members. Even yunho, who is a few feet away. Turned to listen in on the conversation.

"It's true." hongjoong says.

Seonghwa took the honor of putting his name on your heat contact. So, in case of anything. Seonghwa will get that call. And he'll assess the situation when you can't. Regarding who goes in and out of your heat space, any official business regarding idol work, etcetera. Seonghwa took it on cause if hongjoong had- the eldest knew that the captain would be overwhelmed with all of it.

Seonghwa is your primary caretaker for the entire heat cycle whilst you're out. To confirm, they had all sat around your door whilst you were on the other side. Just a door away. You used your phone to call them so they could hear you clearly.

You are still coherent despite what san did earlier. The door is the closest way you can feel close to them. Joong had slipped a piece of paper under your door along with a pen.

'Rules' it reads. Rules for the guys. Anything you don't want them to do, they'll be coherent, partly, while you're in your omega mindset. They can't do anything you dont want, especially if you're allowing them to be heat helpers, which is why you need rules.

You quickly write down the list whilst they talk. Discussing what they need to do beforehand quietly on the other side.

You write down a list of things you're not okay with and precautions. Birth control for men is the most important thing on the list. You know omega-you will not take them, begging not too actually, and knowing your boys, they might actually give in or get distracted. So they'll have to do the protection protocol.

And that's all you had. You are fairly comfortable with everything else. You're sure your omega mind will enjoy it as well.

There's this obvious what-will-happen lingering in your mind. Will this make or break your group? You know this is only a temporary solution. You know they think you're only doing this because you trust them to take care of you. You can't tell exactly why they're agreeing. Do they possibly feel the same? You know hongjoong and seonghwa do- and even san.

What about the rest of them?

Later in the midst of the night, as you're curled up in your closet. Your phone vibrates, awakening you from a sticky and hot sleep, one where you hardly actually sleep a wink, and you're completely uncomfortable the entire time. The bright light shines and blinds you temporarily. It's 2 am.

At some point after dinner, you must have fallen asleep. The ache in between your legs spikes up your hips, causing you to curl into yourself more. Whining quietly into the blanket yeosang had gifted you for your birthday. A pale yellow.

Your fingers reach for anything. Your phone ends up in your tight embrace. A contact on display, how'd that get there? The all familiar picture of you and the tallest of your friends posing in front of a snowman, his bright smile and bowlcut styled hair. Yunho.

"Hello?" Yunhos happy deep voice rings from the other side of the screen. You shudder at the familiarity. Was his voice always this deep? Your thighs clench. "Hello..?" He repeats. Music can be heard, some type of indie song, you recognize a few of his friends talking. Laughing whilst he takes a call.

You can hear the shuffle of yunho on the other side. A door shuts behind him, silencing the music. He calls your name softly. You're still so quiet. You haven't said anything. He must have checked the caller ID. "Yunho," your small voice speaks up, and you bite your lip. Curling into your side. You continue on with a whimper, "Where are you?"

Yunho takes a sharp breath. "I'm out, getting food with some friends, you okay?" he tells you honestly, his feet pacing in the bathroom echos. Your head begins to fog worse than it has in the entirety of the week. "Yun" you whine his name into the air. "How far away?" You fall into a whisper.

"Not far, I'm leaving now." The fact yunho is willing to ditch his group of friends and come home just because you called has you leaking. You bite on the arm holding your phone up to stop a needy gasp.

"Talk to me omega, tell me what's going on." The shuffle of yunho pulling his jacket on distracts you. His friends call his name as he walks, and the doorbell jingles behind him. You can't take the ache anymore. The fog behind your thoughts is consuming. You feel yourself losing control.

"I need you, please. Yunho, Please." You whine, dropping the phone next to you. Yunhos' words fall short. You can hear the door to his car open and slam shut.

"I'll take care of you, omega, okay? Just keep talking to me, I'm almost there"

A/n; I'm terrible. Ik. leaving it off on another cliffhanger bc I didn't know how to finish this chapterrrrr iM SORRY. THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!! it's gonna start getting really spicy here on-

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather @hyukssunflower @hhoneylix @tunaasan @satsuri3su @acescavern @edusweah @silentcry329 @silentreadersthings @ldysmfrst @idfkeddieishot @zdgx1

[shitsndgiggs]

Hey girl....before saying anything else.... i think that your fics are the best... like they are so well written... can you write something fluff about kenan yildiz x reader where they're married and she is like constantly sick and dizzy because she is pregnant and something happens and they find out they're going to have a baby....?

SURPRISE ADDITION - KENAN YILDIZ

After fainting at work, and being taking to the hospital, you and kenan end up getting some news

Kenan Yildiz x pregnant! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

I had been feeling off for weeks. It started with occasional dizziness, which I brushed off as exhaustion from work.

But then came the nausea and the constant fatigue. Kenan noticed my waning energy and growing irritability, but I dismissed his concerns, attributing it all to stress.

One evening, while I was at work, staring at my computer screen, when the room started to spin. I gripped the edge of my desk, willing the dizziness to pass, but it only got worse.

I tried to stand, but my legs felt like jelly. The last thing I remembered was my colleague's concerned face before everything went black.

When I came to, I was lying on the floor with a small crowd gathered around me. Someone had called an ambulance, and I heard them talking about getting in touch with my husband.

Kenan arrived at the hospital just as they were wheeling me into a room.

His face was a mix of fear and concern as he rushed to my side. "Y/N, what happened? Are you okay?"

I managed a weak smile. "I fainted at work. They said it might be dehydration or something."

The doctor came in a few minutes later, holding a clipboard and looking serious. "Mrs. Y/N, we're going to run some tests to find out what's causing your symptoms. It could be a number of things, but we want to be thorough."

Kenan nodded, his grip on my hand tightening. "Thank you, doctor."

As they drew blood and hooked me up to an IV, Kenan stayed close, his worry palpable. "I hate seeing you like this," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. "You've been so tired and sick lately. We should have come here sooner."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes. "I didn't think it was this serious."

"Don't apologize," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "I just want you to get better."

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor returned with the results. "Well, we have some news," she began, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Congratulations, Mrs. Y/N. You're pregnant."

For a moment, the world stood still. Kenan and I stared at the doctor, trying to process her words. "Pregnant?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, about eight weeks along, from what we can tell. The dizziness and fainting are due to severe morning sickness and dehydration, but both you and the baby are fine. We'll give you some fluids and medication to help manage the symptoms."

Kenan let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, a slow smile spreading across his face. "We're... we're having a baby?" He looked at me, his eyes shining with joy and disbelief.

I nodded, tears streaming down my face. "Yes, Kenan. We're having a baby."

He leaned in and kissed me gently, his hands trembling as they cupped my face. "I can't believe it. This is the best news ever."

As the nurse hooked me up to an IV, Kenan pulled a chair close to the bed and took my hand. "You scared me," he admitted softly.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, squeezing his hand.

“Promise me you'll take it easy from now on," he said, his voice firm but gentle.

"I promise," I said, tears welling up in my eyes. "I'm just so glad you're here."

He leaned in and kissed my forehead. "There's nowhere else I'd be. You're my world, Y/N."

The next morning, after being discharged from the hospital, Kenan insisted on taking me home and making sure I rested.

He took a few days off work to stay with me, his protective nature in full force.

One evening, as we were lying in bed, Kenan turned to me with a thoughtful expression. "You know, when I got that call from your office, it was like my worst nightmare."

I looked at him, my heart aching at the worry in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Kenan. I didn't mean to scare you."

He shook his head. "It's not your fault. But it made me realize just how much I love you and our baby. I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you."

I reached up and cupped his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble under my fingers. "We're going to be okay. We have each other."

He smiled, his eyes softening. "Yes, we do. And I promise to take care of you, no matter what."

[c1oud999]

hi

i just wanted to come on here and talk about my experience with spirituality. warning: longggg post ahead.

basically ive been in the spiritual community for YEARS now. ive had existential crisis since the age of 11 and ive gone through many phases of many different spiritual trends. from law of attraction, to witchcraft, to religious devotion, to law of assumption and now finally non dualism. i read books, meditated for hours and hours, talked to spiritual ppl from all walks of life and watched all the episodes of ganga upanishad (a show i still highly recommend, you can watch on youtube). all this childhood trauma and mental illness made me crave for sweet relief. but nothing really made sense until law of assumption. i thought that that would be it yk. i thought i was done searching but i think that was when i was searching for things the most. i do know i have it in my 4d, when will i see it? i thought i would get all my desires but did not meet success. and then the non dualism trend began and i hopped onto it like pretty much everyone else. i was bewildered at the stuff teachers kept saying. what do you mean everything's an illusion? there's no way that's true. my very real surroundings are causing me VERY real pain and suffering. oh no no there must be a deeper meaning behind all this. and so i read all the books in 4dbarbies drive, but nothing clicked. yes it made sense intellectually, but i didnt want to believe it bc where is the materialisation satisfaction here? also i felt none of the euphoria that was supposed to come with self realisation. which means i must not be a realised being. and then i cried and cried and cried, isolated myself, literally stopped going to school and just lay in bed all day. but ofc, i continued to read the tumblr posts like i had been doing for the past several years. and yesterday i read 4dkelly's post about giving up. it made sense. by the time i had finished reading the post i had truly given up on everything. on wanting, hoping, fearing, striving etc etc. i was SO tired. so i gave up. fell asleep. i woke up really late as usual and missed the school bus. i ate breakfast in silence, switched the tv on and lied down on the couch like always. and like always out of compulsion and force of habit i reached for my phone and looked up non dualism on twitter. and then i came across a tweet that said a simple sentence only- "nothing is ever actually happening." woah. that kinda drove me to the edge of the cliff i desperately wanted to jump off. i turned on some dnb background music and turned the shower on. i stood under the boiling hot water like some dramatic bitch and started piecing together the "puzzle". it all made so much sense now. i got out of the shower and left the house for the first time in months with a cute outfit and makeup on and everything. i went to the mall, bought candles, stickers, eye masks, coffee, and a doughnut with absolutely no social anxiety at all. i sat by window, read some poetry on my e-reader, cried, peered down at the floor below me and cried some more at the sight of little kids sitting on santa's lap and taking pictures and marveled at all the christmas decorations around me. it was insane. i decided i was going to be neutral towards everything but im in love. maddeningly so. in love with this dream that i thought did not love me back. but love is all there is. I AM ALL THERE IS. and i need you to take this literally. there is nothing happening. there is nothing here except you. nothing to fear, nothing to desire. ik a lot of people are going to dismiss this post because it's not a "materialisation success story" but i honestly dont think i can ever want anything physically bc in all its true essence, what is there to materialise? i am already whole and complete. i am lying on this cold hard floor, but i have never felt warmer. also ik there may be a lot of things ive written you might not agree with but again, this is NOT REAL. I AM. i hope this post helps you.

thank you to all the blogs ive come across and all the pointers they have shared: @se1f @realisophie @itgomyway @4dkellysworld @4dbarbie-backup @infiniteko @iamthat-iam and many more i cannot thank enough.

lots and lots of love (more than you can ever imagine), and good luck.

[rqbossman]

Hello Mr Bossman! (and possibly anyone else who reads this)

Its an honour to be here, I have a few questions. First i appologise for the long paragraph, you may dismiss it for the questions at the bottom. For context, i am here after finishing TMA and being up to date with TMAP, i then went over and listened to RQG, and have just finished listening to Epilogue 3 and might i just say, good sir I am grateful for your podcasts. I am currently just a few months away from my final exams of High School, and as someone who even just 1 year ago was very lost, struggling with school and being just overwhelmed. TMA isnt exactly comforting, but the characters and plot managed to serve as a good form of escapism while sorting myself out. I found my self engaging more in creative things that i had originally put aside in favour of maths and science (which i hated but thought i needed to do). I started drawing again, even if just fanart. and i found things going well. By finding podcasts, story telling and these communities have helped me in my own understanding of what i want in life. I got an ADHD diagnosis earlier this year, and almost directly after started RQG and as my first hyperfixation (that i was aware of as an hyperfixation) gosh dang it hit hard. (in a good way). Ive been able to do so much more creative writing and drawings, and got re-involved with a small dnd group with some friends who i played one game with almost 4 years ago now. So overall, inspirational sounds cringe, but it was. Im doing my best with the upcoming exams, but trying to get in to Medicine is not my only prority, and the fact ive been re-introduced to my first love (Literature and story telling), im planning to go do an Arts degree and i know i wouldnt have been able to confidently make this decision, or even have survived this long in the school system without the work you and your coworkers do. Now the sap is out of the way, Question time! (if you could answer even just one of these questions it would be so cool)(they go in order of RQ relevant to random stuff)(dont feel pressured to answer all/any. i know i wrote alot): 1. what would you say is the best way to draft out a long-form story. (with "Erasing the Line" as an example) Did you start at the end, with the links to the overarching plot.

2. When working with the players (in a form of TTRPG), what did you do to make sure you didnt miss relevant timing of plot points/ avoid creating spoilers while still giving enough detail?

3. What are good places to start with making a job out of storytelling/voice acting/audio etc. In the case of RQ, how is this a job and where do i sign up please! /j (what i mean is, how is best way/how did you find all the people involved and was there a common path that you were all on before getting to where you are now?) 4. Do you have recommendations for Terry Pratchett Books, i may be an literary-leaning student, but it seems i have never actually properly read any of his books. so where is best place to start?/What did you read first?

5. Similar authors or similar inspirations? Did you have a favourite podcast you listen to in your free time that you havnt had a hand in producing/directing/working on. 6. Favourite song/album/artist. And more specifically, what you like listening to in background when doing either writing or (for ttrpg) character research/game planing. 7. Since the olympics are on at the moment, what has been your favourite sport to watch, if you have been watching at all. Thank you for your time :)

Thankyou for all the kind words. Knowing our work is helping people really keeps our engines fired up. Let's see if I can't answer your questions: 1. I "sandbox" which is where I just shove everything I can think of into an unorganised bullet point list. Characters, setting, plot, all of it in one big mess. Then I decide what type of story you want to tell, copy and paste to a new document and then start to organise the thoughts (with the sandbox on standby if new stuff comes in I don't know what to do with). I think of it like scultping, you cut away bits and reshape until something comes out the other end that is story shaped. Only then do I attempt to build the sandcastle and put something coherant together like a synopsis or scratch draft etc.

2. Very tricky. I did a complete review and update of all notes after each recording session and don't forget the audio eas edited. I made lots of gaffs that you never heard as audience.

3. I contacted anyone I could convince to take part and just proved I was serious by overworking. I don't reccomend that route. Unfortunately it really is "who" you know. That doesn't mean chase established professionals as much as it means you need to get out there and associate with other up-and-comers who match your vibe. For me the route was long and windy and not a particularly good example. 4. I normally recommend people do not read his books in publication order. Don't get me wrong, its wonderful watching his craft grow from one title to the next but I would recommend new readers tip their toe into his later works to see if they like where he ended up before committing the time. I often recommend 'Monstrous Regiment' as people's first one. My favourite though is 'Thief of Time.'

5. I don't get much time to listen to podcasts in the last couple of years. I used to listen to a lot of non fiction. 'Stuff you Should Know' and that ilk. I also read a fair amount of classic YA fiction to unwind (Windinsger trilogy, Bartimeous, stuff like that.) 6. Paul Simon's Graceland but when working I assemble a playlist for each seperate project that is tonally appropriate. If I really need to focus I listen to Classical Minimalism. Or the Old School Runescape soundtrack. I'm allowed to be ecclectic. 7. I am actually in an incredibly busy work crunch at the moment so haven't seen any of it!

[pumpkinsy0]

tldr: @buddyaldridge is a 30 year old weirdo proshipper who talks shit about ppl behind their backs, block em and report if you can/want to

just wanna let everyone know theres a omegaverse mpreg dallyboy writer whos been an all around WEIRDOOOOO cause their brain is LITERALLY porn rotted and they cannot fathom ppl actually having fun at all, their @ is @buddyaldridge aka @pelopsides previously known as @madelynprior

in 2020-2022 the outsiders tumblr they used to be @madelynprior and theyre a hardcore dallyboy stan which is already fucking weird, but on top of that, they would make teen pregnancy omegaverse smut fics which??? and im not gonna give you the ss, nigga im givin yall the LINKKK to see it with your own eyes so you know im not crazy

how ik its them is bc on their acc RIGHT before they switched to their buddyaldridge acc, and before that acc was named “pelopides”, they used to go by “madeleinepryor”, how ik its the same person is bc on a good chunk of their post, theyd tag it as “#madeleinepryor dispatches” on top of that, they just straight up linked their ao3 acc😭😭

heres what the link goes to, they linked their ao3 acc, they just changed their username on ao3 as well from madeleinepryor to greasers

now me calling them a proshipper isnt me talking out of my ass, they say it themselves like ughhhhjjj

as for them talking about other ppl, i wont share ALL the screenshots bc idk if the ppl theyre talking bad about would rlly feel comfortable w those being posted, if they know, they can feel free to post it on their own accord, so like i said, wont share, but i HAVE seen some and i can conform that they have done it, its ABSOLUTELY NOT above them

for now ill post the ss i CAN post rn which just proves my point

now ignoring that theyre talking smack, theyre just so odd and obviously didnt rlly think this through bc 1967 is ALREADY IMPLIED in the 60s, youre just incapable of reading things that arent about teen boys getting it on w each other PLEASE get a grip on reality😭😭

theyve talked about 14 year olds and their post on their acc just to shit on them, once again, GROWN ASS PERSON TWEAKIN OVER THE IDEAS OF A 14 YEAR OLD🗣️🗣️

NOW maybe your asking “how do you know the discord user and the tumblr user are the same person” AND I WILL ADMIT, while i DO have strong feelings they are the same person, its not 100% proven, HOWEVER buddyaldridge DOES go by buddy and that discord users name is buddy, so while its not concrete, the link IS there, once again, feel free to come to whatever conclusion you wanna come to about that

but what ISNT disputable is the fact that theyre a proshitter

additionally just this??? reblog from them????

on its own, not MUCH, bit considering the fics they make this is SO weird like??????

and finally, ive heard that theyve specifically came for me about my haitian shepards and maybe even my heritage, saying that they hated race hcs??????like using me as an example, they ss my acc and talked shit, someone contacted me about it and they dont have ss of it specifically, but they can vouch for it, and im not just gonna dismiss that, bc while they dont have ss, they do have ss and proof of everything else, so i do believe them, and theyve said if they find it they would show them to me, do what you wanna with this info

ANYWAYS buddy, your brain is unironically pornrotted, ur being a lil baby who cant do anything but cry and moan online on discord of all places and ur doing all this as a 30+ year old, and its CRAZIER bc youre doing all this while having “minors dni” in your pinned post, while also writing about minors, in a fandom MOSTLY OF MIDDLE SCHOOLERS!!!! (aka minors!!! ik age is hard for you to grasp) on top of that, literally ANY and ALL race hcs is way more believable and enjoyable than any “ideas” you’ve been cooking up in that odd demented, shriveled up pea brain of urs

anyways yea, that all i have to say, and im speaking for myself here, but i mean this with every fiber of my being, i dont know how you function in life but i DO NOT want you to go any farther, and i think others would/DO feel the same, ive seen what makes you cheer and i am PROUUUDDD to make you BOOOOO, you shouldnt be near minors at all, fictional or non fictional, you should BARELY be near other adults

plus if you go onto their acc rn, notice how when anon called them out, buddy aint even say they were wrong?? JUST SAYIN🗣️🗣️

im tagging everything i can tag bc i DO NOTTTT want mfs interacting w their blog, and want as many ppl as possible to be aware, dont say anything to them, dont give them attention bc obviously they’ll think this is funny and post it on their shitty discord server or whatever and giggle like they arent a grown ass nigga w bills to pay, trying so hard to cling onto their high school days, making fics about a canon middle schooler getting banged and pregnant, pls block and report do whatever u wanna do, just plssss dont let this proshitter on this damn sight near kidssss😭😭

dont take this as me WANTING drama, i dont, i just dont want ppl coming in this fandom thinking posting this shit and doing this is ok, youre bullying ppl for doing harmless things meanwhile your just making straight porn about a weird ship left n right, thinking YOUUUUU of all ppl have the place to talk about anyone or anything like your opinion on anything is valid😭😭

you NEED stones thrown at you

if anyone has anymore ss send em to mmeeeeee, but in the mean time ill be doin my own thing wooooo‼️‼️🔥🔥

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

HI ITS ME gvxzggsgjfh ok look this is. i know this is a weird one it is SO specific and so obviously something i should just write myself if i want it👏but👏but👏BUT i decided to shoot my shot when a perfect chance has arisenderised for you to pick and choose from anything you like AND in any form, and to see if this one maybe by any chance just so happens to spark anything fun in u too xD

ssssssssssoooooooooooooooooooooo RANDOM EVENT ROLL D20 mc gets bitten by a werewoof or some other kind of "contagious" monster species (....cant really think of anything else other than vampirs, now that i say it) but WAIT THERES MORE because. what if mc insisted that they dont want any potential existent cures, they just wanna stay monstery >:3 JVDTHGLN who's considering it, who would absolutely go in the "its either me or this" direction, who's enthusiastic🤣 this is silly as hell but in the case it sparks joy id love to hear ur any and all thoughts because this idea has been haunting me for forever lmao honestly the best way ive imagined it is like one of your own selfinsert pieces youve posted before where its just all of them together bickering heeheehee💘💕🩷💞💖

love u have fun!!

The Arcana Drabble: MC transforms into a "monster"

In the spirit of things, I though a long drabble/short oneshot would work best to keep the madness going XD

Asra's getting stuck in their "one focus and one focus only" mode and right now that focus is making sure you're okay. He'll decide how he feels later, which isn't being helped at all because Julian keeps calling on him to help him slow down the process and get you to think about this a little more. However, it's hard to tell what exactly Julian wants your decision to be because in between him trying to get Asra to make you think about it some more, he's having all kinds of medical epiphanies about how your anatomy is adjusting to the new monster form:

"MC, let's think about some more, shall we? I'm sure Asra agrees with me - don't you, Asra? Asr - oh, whats this?! Your finger's joints are rapidly adjusting to accommodate for - I need a pen and paper -"

"Right here, Ilya." It's Portia's dismissive tone as she digs a small notebook and pencil out of her pocket that keeps you grounded. Not for long, though, because she can't wait to see what happens next. "Accommodate for what, anyways? Are you growing another joint?? Are you going to get claws??? Talons???? Show me!"

Between Julian jotting down unintelligible notes while he studies your elbow's range of motion, Portia's excited exclamations, and Asra's attempt at soothing touch as they rub your shoulders and ask how you're feeling, it's a miracle you can notice Muriel's quiet mumble in the background. He's clearly overwhelmed and very concerned that the physically-altering substance in general got to your brain first, making you so seemingly okay with turning into a monster.

"MC, do you remember your name? Do you need to take a nap? You don't have to be okay with this -"

"I believe this may warrant far more than a nap to recover from." Nadia's doing her best to keep Lucio calm, holding him back from tackling you much like she might grasp a leash. You can practically see the headache building behind her eyes. "We have yet to determine what the extent of this transformation is and therefore whether our dear MC is even capable of fully agreeing to the current process. MC, darling, did the source of this transformation give you any indication of what the end result would be?"

You'd try to respond, but Lucio's excited yelling is too noisy to shout over. He's fumbling at the fastenings on his cape, distracted by your ongoing changes, and very annoyed at Nadia's interference.

"Where did it go? I want to see if it can give me powers too - OW! Dammit, Noddy, I'm trying to help here! You're keeping me from finding the monster and getting it to give me cool - I mean, getting it to tell us more about what's happening! Don't you want that? Don't you want to help MC, Noddy?! Let me go -"

It's with a loud RIP and subsequent "that was velvet, you know!" that Lucio finally breaks free and sprints off in the direction of your new monster friend. You can feel yourself slowly settling in to your new form as the process shows signs of slowing and reaching completion.

Nadia's facepalming. Portia's looking at you with eyes shining in wonder. Julian's still trying to nag Asra into reversing this as he takes notes. The magician in question is still ignoring him as they ask you how you feel for the nth time. Muriel's eyeing the nearby closet in hopes of taking a nap and waking up to it all being a dream. Lucio's a distant, spiky golden speck at this point.

Faust is quietly trying to sneak her knife into your hand, for crimes.

[mischievous-piltovan]

Of Atlas and Sisyphus (NSFW)

Part 1 | Part 2

Part 2: Overthinking and Overflowing

Pairing: MiguelO'Hara x afab!Reader

Themes: Romance, Fluff, NSFW, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn.

Word Count: 9.4k words

Synopsis: Reader wakes up at the Spider HQ Med Bay and needs further care. Miguel spends his day watching the recording of their last mission. None of them are ready to face each other. But circumstances and a perky AI assistant say otherwise.

Trigger Warnings/TWs: blood, wound, piercing damage, reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, miscommunication, emotionally constipated idiots, a bit of power imbalance because boss x underling (but ever so slightly), hand job, oral sex (female and male receiving), very soft femdom.

A/N: sorry for the wait. Life happened but I managed to push this one out! I'm thinking of doing a third part to really solidify the ending of this things. Comments and rebblogs keep me motivated! Have a nice read :)

The very first thing that hit you when you next opened your eyes was a feeling of unfamiliarity. The white ceiling lights buzzed overhead, overwhelming your sight; the mattress and pillow you laid on felt harder than you were used to, there was a distinct antiseptic smell in the air and somewhere in the vicinity a machine beeped. You tried getting up, but your muscles failed you, bringing you right back down. The little ruckus you caused made someone gasp nearby.

"Careful now," a masked nurse hastily came over your bed "We can't have you accidentally unhooking yourself from the IV-drip."

In your daze, it took a few seconds to register that the nurse was a Spider-Woman, a few more seconds to realize it meant you were at HQ's Med Bay and even more for it to click that that's NOT where you were supposed to be. You sat upright suddenly as dread coursed through your body, successfully yanking the needle out of your arm "The Goblin! I gotta- " 

With a sigh, the nurse gently pushed you back into the bed with a hush. "It's all right, dear. It's been dealt with," she proceeded to reset the IV needle in your arm "Boss brought both you and the Anomaly back to HQ. Your Universe is safe, you need to rest now."

"Miguel… ?" You croaked, the memories of the missions slowly coming back to you "Is he ok?"

"Yes, he was dismissed not too long ago," she reassured you "He wasn't injected with as much venom as you did, and he's also much bigger than you - it almost didn't affect him."

"Venom…?"

"Oh, right. You wouldn't know," she chirped "The projectile you took was venomous, it did a number to your body and halted your healing. But don't worry, we're working to fix that.You should be right as rain in a day or two!"

"Right…"

"Well, I need to attend to other matters now," she said in a gentle tone "There's a little button on the wall over there, press it if you need anything and I'll come running, ok? Now, get some rest."

You watched the nurse hop out of your room before sinking into the pillow with a heavy exhale. You didn't finish the mission; you couldn't carry your own weight to catch an Anomaly in your own dimension. Miguel had to do it. He caught the Anomaly by himself and had to carry your unconscious body back to HQ. Your only contribution was being dead weight.

To make matters worse, according to the nurse, you'd be stuck in the Med Bay for at least another day. This meant that all the unfinished work you left at your workstation would inevitably get delayed. Consequently, all the new tasks that you'd surely be assigned to will stack up and, thereafter, also get delayed. You shielded your eyes with your forearm as you groaned, the amount of extra hours you'd have to put in to compensate already sent a shiver down your spine; an all-nighter was definitely due. You just hoped no unforeseen crisis strike in the meantime - adding Miguel juggling a million tasks at once to quench a metaphorical fire by himself to the fiasco that your mission with him was just added more weight to your already heavy consciousness (and another jab to your very much hurt pride). You also didn't want to have him going through stress by himself  when you could very well be there to share the load - that's precisely what you've been trying to accomplish all this time after all. As capable as he was, he was still just one person - he needed you.

Wait…

He needed you.

"Because I need you."

He… He said that, didn't he? You were not entirely sure, you were in a rather delirious state right before passing out. It could have very well been a fabrication of a blood-deprived (and poisoned, as you just learned) mind that has been yearning for him for far too long. But somehow, it felt real… You've dreamed about Miguel before and it didn't matter which scenario your subconscious made up, waking up always left you with a bittersweet feeling afterwards, like you've been yanked away from your own Garden of Eden. But this particular memory had an intensity behind it, an unrelenting force. Like that first sip of cold water on a very hot summer day.

You swatted that notion away before escalating your swooning any further over a single crumb of hope. 'Because I need you' could mean anything, it didn’t necessarily have to do with romance or lust. If you recalled correctly, you were in the middle of quitting your job, he could very well have meant he needed you working in the lab with him. As in 'You became a valuable asset to the Society, replacing you would be too troublesome. I need you'.

Heh… Despite not being ideally what you wanted it to mean, the thought still amused you. Miguel finally admitted he saw worth in your contributions to the Society, after all these months of getting nothing but criticism and scoldings. And you could hear in his voice how he struggled to let the words out, how strained and a bit desperate he sounded. Like he was running out of choices and just had to use the truth for once.

It really was amusing how much leverage he gave you over him. 

Miguel didn't want you to know he needed you and you couldn't wait to rub it in his face.

—--

Miguel didn't want you to know he needed you and he dreaded to see your reaction now that you did.

It had been a full day since he was dismissed from the Med Bay and he couldn't concentrate on anything. And it's not like he wasn't trying; he kept forcing himself to focus - compartmentalizing tasks in more palatable chunks, timing his strides and peppering them with short breaks, and even going as far as vocalizing out loud what he was trying to accomplish step by step - but no matter what he did, his thoughts kept circling back to you and everything that went down in your dimension.

After the ninth time failing to keep a steady flow of work going, Miguel finally gave-up. Among the catalog of yesterday's missions log files, he put up the VOD of the mission at your dimension and silently watched it. He paused the moment before you were hit with the Goblin's javelin and felt his stomach churn; he watched himself curled up on screen, trying to fix his suit, pathetically oblivious to the impending attack coming from behind him. The next second you were lunging at him, getting the Goblin's attention and successfully protecting him at the cost of your wound.

 How… Pathetic.

His intention to accompany you on your next few missions was to protect you - he knew you bore a grave injury from a past job, he wanted to aid you until you were fully healed. To watch him be a hindrance that caused you further harm made him feel disgusting; and knowing it was because he didn't have Spider-Sense the same way most (bright and cheerful) Spider-People had just added more insult to the injury. 

But the fight with the Goblin wasn't the reason he wanted to watch the Video Log in the first place. He kept watching it until he got to the part he wished to revisit - the moment the argument broke out. Unsurprisingly, he was the one who triggered the conflict.

"Why the shock were you exerting yourself when you should have been resting?"

Miguel groaned at his tone. He didn't have to be an asshole when all he wanted was for you to be more careful with your well-being. But at this point, being a jerk towards you became second nature - a defense mechanism born from the need of keeping you at arm's length; treating you the complete opposite of how he felt about you to ensure you were kept safe from him. If you ended up hating him all the better. But actions have consequences, and tipping you off yet again was just that. He couldn't blame you for snapping, he had been pushing you for a while now - the band was bound to break. 

What he didn't foresee was that said reaction encapsulated your sudden decision to quit Spider Society altogether AND your stubborn persistence in flinging yourself back into the mission while gravely injured. His mind went into overdrive trying to salvage the situation while keeping the professional facade. He watched the moment he grabbed your wrist, the same desperation he felt then creeping up all over again. The havoc inside him caused the beast to get set loose and he recalled almost doing something stupid as he gazed into your eyes, like kissing you. It was said thought that jolted him out of his stupor, forcefully yanking the beast's leash back and making him utter the most ridiculous statement in a desperate attempt to bring the conversation back to a professional ground (it didn't).

"You're going to jeopardize this mission in your current condition."

He had to pause the video to take a breath, the surge of shame too much to bear. There were a million other ways to address your relentlessness that would both convey the message and still sound professional, but his thick skull decided to go with the ballistic option. But then again, it was the easier route, par for the course; being as mean as possible to make sure his true intentions and feelings were kept secret. He unpaused the video, and your next words were his undoing.

"I'm DONE being your silly little plaything."

What the shock could you possibly have meant with that? Yes, he had been an asshole to you for the last few months (even if not intentional), but he wasn't toying with you. To make someone a plaything means bestowing them a lesser status; is to perceive them as a mere toy, an unfeeling object undeserving of respect. And that was the last thing Miguel connected you with; to him you were a goddess, worthy of worship and absolutely unattainable. You were his muse and his tormentor, his salvation and his undoing. Far too important to him even consider playing with. The revelation that this is how you felt broke him; destroyed him to the point that made him falter and his next words practically spilled from him.

"Because I need you."

There they were. The words that escaped his lips and which possible repercussions he dreaded. The little confession that's been keeping him from concentrating in anything else. In his desperation to remedy the notion you held, he waned and the beast broke free; it spoke in his stead and revealed more than Miguel was ready to admit. In a (terrible) way, he was lucky you passed out soon after; who knows what else would come into the light had the conversation gone any further.

Yet, even though the words he uttered didn't actually convey much, the implications behind them had the potential to roar. It shouldn't take a genius to logic their way to the truth and you were highly intelligent. And he dreaded how you'd react to it, how disgusted you'd feel upon realizing the beast fell for you. Only he was no prince under a spell, he was just that - a monster.

"Miguel? Heeey, Miguel! Are you listening?"

It took Lyla to pop up in front of his eyes, completely blocking the screen he was looking at, for Miguel to finally notice her. From her frantic gesturing alone, he could tell she had been trying to get his attention for a while. 

"Ah, perdón, Lyla. I am now."

"Good grief, Miguel. You are uncharacteristically slow today," she quipped, feigning annoyance. "Did the venom from that Goblin affect your cognition?"

"I–What? No," it took a minute for Miguel to understand Lyla had insulted him "Callaté."

The AI ignored Miguel, opting to scan whatever he was working on. She assumed she'd have more luck understanding her master's plight through any other way than getting him to talk. Upon realizing the video file he was watching, she paused with an oh.

"I'm gonna throw some statements at you, and you're gonna tell me if they are true or not," she said more calmly. Before he could muster anything, she continued "You are worried about what you said during yesterday's mission.'

Miguel took a moment before responding "True."

"You don't want her to know about your feelings."

"...true."

She paused, mulling over her next statement before continuing "You think you're not reciprocated."

Miguel frowned "Fal– No, that's not even– She couldn't possibly–"

The mere thought of you reciprocating his feelings was ludicrous. Of all people, why would you fall for him - a barely human, brutish, hard-headed monstrosity. In the Society alone he could think of a good number of Spiders that you were more likely to fall for; the cheerful, laid-back types who could touch you without fear of accidentally sinking their talons into you. Lyla was delusional to even suggest that.

"Drop it, Lyla."

The AI took a minute to study Miguel, her expression unreadable. The next second, her eyes shifted, unfocused, and a glimpse of a mischievous grin spread across her face before turning to her master again.

"Aye aye, captain, consider it dropped," she said cheerfully. "On other news, you have that immersion treatment scheduled now. You better head to the Med Bay."

"Cancel it," he dismissed, the last thing he needed was to waste more time. But Lyla was having none of it.

"Not happening," she snapped her fingers and suddenly all screens from Miguel's workstation blinked off.

"Que carajo," Miguel spat, frantically trying to undo his assistant's input "Lyla! Restore the power this instant!" 

"No can do, Miguel," she said, floating with her legs crossed in the air, while pretending to file her nails. "Even if it was just a little, you still got poisoned with that Goblin's venom. Doctor's orders."

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, as he groaned. Finally, he dropped his shoulders with a huge exhale as he yielded "Fine…"

"Oh, and do me a favor while you're there, will you?" She added "I've found a strange entry in my command inputs, could you take a look at it?"

—

Miguel spent the whole walk to the Med Bay wondering how his life got to the point his AI assistant had more power over his life decisions than he did.

Once arriving, he was led to a private locker room and instructed to fully strip and enter the immersion pool area through the door on the other side of the room. 

"The session should take an hour, give or take," the nurse informed him, "There's a clock in there, so don't worry about bringing any devices with you."

Once the nurse left him, he fully deactivated his suit, the digital material retracting from his head down, and wrapped a towel around his hips. Even if he was supposed to be by himself through the whole process - thus dispensing the need to protect his modesty -, it would be unlike him to not take precaution.

The very first thing that hit him when he opened the door to the pool area was the intense herbal smell that assaulted his sensitive nose. The second thing was how foggy the place was, provided by the temperature of the water. The third thing was a yelp.

"AH! What the– Wait… Miguel?"

You stood immersed in the water, at the far end of the pool. Miguel was stunned, trying to process the situation he walked into, his head working in overdrive: Why were you here? Did he go through the wrong door? No, there was only one door. How did he miss your scent? Oh, the fumes from the concoction must have overpowered it. Should you be here? Should he be here? Once his eyes fell to how your arms hugged your chest in an attempt to maintain some sort of propriety, he promptly turned on his heels as an intense heat flared up on his face.

"Shit! I'm sorry!" He spat. "I don't know what– I should– I'm gonna go."

He frantically tried opening the door back to the locker room, pressing the buttons on the door pad with more force than he should, but it was futile. As he punched the pad in frustration, Lyla popped up beside him.

"You're not leaving until you finish your treatment session," she sang.

"Lyla! Open this door this instant!" Miguel barked. Lyla just clicked her tongue.

"Just get in the water, the pool is big enough for the both of you," she replied "Besides, the mixture of medicines in the water make it very murky, you can barely make out what's under it."

"LYLA! NOW!"

"It's OK, Miguel," you said, your voice instantly starting to subdued Miguel's anger "You need this treatment too, you should get in."

Miguel brushed his hair back with his hand, his fingers running through his thick locks as he tried calming down to assess his situation. You were behind him completely vulnerable in an extreme state of undress, protected only by a thin veil of water. He shuddered at the thought, the image in his head alone sending all the blood in his body directly south. The beast inside of him wanted nothing more than to seize the opportunity to claim you here, shrouded by the vapors and the thick herbal smell. Getting in that water was risky, it would take a lot of him to keep control. 

But what other option did he have? Lyla was adamant in making him go through the treatment, blocking the door control altogether. He had the power to just force his way out, tearing a hole in the metal with his talons, but he'd end up not only ruining your session but also exposing you (and the protectiveness in him was vehemently against it). He just had to endure it.

"Fine," he breathed out in defeat. He turned around, eyes down to avoid looking at you. He approached the pool's edge as he tugged on the towel around his hips "I'm gonna lose the towel, you… might want to look away."

You did not want to look away in the slightest, but you closed your eyes nonetheless out of respect. Once you heard the tell-tale splash followed by the ripples of water hitting you, you opened them again. 

Neither you or Miguel spoke, the silence being broken only by the gentle humming of the water heater. The tension in the air was almost as palpable as the herbal steam flooding the room. Miguel kept himself on the opposite corner of the pool, as far from you as possible. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and sank as far as he could while resting the back of his head on the edge. His heart was racing, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment overwhelming his senses. He was fighting hard to relax, to be present in the moment and enjoy the break from the ever-present onslaught of responsibilities his life bestowed upon him, but your presence was proving too strong. 

The beast inside of him stirred, flooding his mind with obscenities; you bent over at your hip on your belly at the edge of the pool, your ass on full display for him as he plunged his cock between your glistening folds; you sat at the edge with your feet in the water as he savored your nectar with his head between your thighs; him sitting on the shallow part of the pool with you on top of him, bouncing on his cock as he gripped your ass, watching your tits gorgeously jump from the movement. Miguel groaned, fighting to keep the beast on a tight leash as he tried to push the vulgarities away; fuck fuck fuck… What wouldn't he give for a chance to jerk these thoughts out of him, to release the tension just a bit to make this ordeal a bit more bearable. The occasional sigh and shudder you'd let out from the other side of the pool just added to his fantasies, making the effort of keeping his very much hardening cock down that much vexing. At least Lyla was right about the murkiness of the water - the pearlescent shade whatever chemicals granted the liquid made it impossible to distinguish anything immersed in it.

Wait, that's right - Lyla! She did ask him to take a look at a weird entry on her command input history, didn't she. This was perfect, some busy work should keep his mind occupied, if he was lucky it would take the whole treatment session to finish dealing with it. He promptly called Lyla and before long, he was scrolling through her command input history.

To say you were faring any better at the other side of the pool would be a lie. Ever since Miguel walked through that door you became acutely aware of how bare you were - your skin prickled as if more sensitive than before. On top of that, you were fighting for your life not to ogle at the man - the dampness of the ambient clung to him making his bronze skin glisten and tousled his hair, causing some thick locks to fall on his face. You started to question your decision to offer him to partake in the session with you the moment the words left your mouth; you supposed it derived from both the guilt you felt from him getting wounded during the mission and the opportunity your lizard brain saw of being close to a very naked Miguel. Nevertheless, the result was an awkward situation filled to the brim with tension. 

Suddenly, you sensed Miguel tense up for a second, meeting his eyes the moment you looked over to see what had spooked him. The workaholic that he was, he had a screen open in front of him and seemed to have seen something that surprised him. You lifted a questioning eyebrow at him, but he didn't respond; instead he returned to the document he had opened as if double-checking something before turning the screen off. He then set his eyes to the water in front of him, but his mind was distant - you could almost hear the gears turning in his head.

The silence stretched on and minutes started feeling like hours. You racked your brain trying to find a topic of discussion, something to fill the silence and loosen the tension if only for a bit. Maybe even something silly, just to share a little amicable laugh, or some kind of teasing, to partake in a familiar friendly jabbing session. And then it hit you, the one thing you were dying to bring up to him - the little confession he let out during the mission. His (work) need of you (in the Spider Society).

"Soooo," you broke the silence in a sing-song voice "Miguel O'Hara finally caved in, huh."

Miguel snapped out of whatever was consuming his mind, clearly taken aback by the tone of your voice "¿Q- que?"

"Because I need you," you mimicked, doing a very bad impression of his voice "Took you long enough to admit it."

Miguel didn't respond right away. You watched him stir, visibly distraught, as he searched your face for something. "... you knew?"

There was a tinge of melancholy behind his question, something even vulnerable. But you kept your smirk, backing down now would just compromise your attempt at alleviating the tension. "I mean, I had a feeling."

Miguel dropped his shoulders in a strong exhale as he scrunched his eyes shut. When he opened them again, his eyebrows furrowed up slightly as he looked at you in desolation "I'm sorry."

Of all things to hear back from him, an apology was not on the list. Something was starting to feel off, but you decided to push it a little more "You should be, it was high time you recognized the work I put in here."

It was Miguel's turn to look confused "... the work?"

"Oh, don't act dumb, O'Hara," you retorted, slightly annoyed. He was not gonna dissuade you from finally getting the praise you rightfully deserved from him. "You couldn't let me quit the Society, you literally said you needed me here. I might have passed out soon after, but I did hear those words coming out of you."

"But that wasn't–," Miguel started frantically, but halted abruptly, seemingly collecting his thoughts. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves before continuing. "You are an exceptional member of the Society. Your work at the lab and in the field are crucial and I can admit without problem that I need you at the Society. We all do."

He paused again, contemplating his next words. After a brief second, he resumed his speech. "What I said back then had nothing to do with work."

You frowned in confusion for a moment, but then the other meaning to those words you had first imagined crept up in the forefront of your mind. He couldn't be talking about affection, could he? A yearning for you that matched yours for him? Your chest fluttered in an erratic cadence, but you promptly stomped the elation down. You had to make sure - to hear him say it - before allowing yourself the bliss.

"What did you mean then?" You spoke softly, carefully. Like your tone alone could corner Miguel and cause him to withdraw, putting his walls back up and leaving you with half truths and lies.

But he didn't give you the clarification you desperately craved right away. Instead he shifted, standing a bit taller while still leaning with his back to the pool's edge, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. 

"I'll let you know," he spoke, fiercely gazing into your eyes from under his brow; his voice husky and stern. "But first I need you to explain why you asked Lyla to find a Miguel O'Hara variant in your dimension."

Your heart sank as dread rapidly coursed through your veins. You desperately tried to find a suitable answer, one that could give him a good explanation while omitting the truth from him. But the harder you racked your brain, the clearer it became that there was no way out from the corner Miguel drove you into. 

Dread started giving away to anger. How dare he tries to dodge your question by conditioning its answer to an answer from you, one that puts you on the spot. Leave it to control-freak Miguel O'Hara to use sleazy methods to keep himself on top.

"That doesn't concern you," you said between greeted teeth. "Now, answer my question."

Miguel was unphased. "Oh, you think someone looking for a variant of myself using my tech doesn't concern me?"

"It doesn't, that was a matter between me and Lyla about a potential third person," you spat, voice rising a bit. "My question is about clarification on a conversation WE shared. THAT concerns you."

"You can't possibly-"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, O'HARA," you snapped, standing up abruptly, splashing water all around you "STOP DEFLECTING MY QUESTION AND JUST ANSWE-"

You stopped upon noticing the look on Miguel's face. He seemed shocked, eyes wide open, eyebrows knitted together and mouth agape. Then you noticed a tinge of red make an appearance underneath the bronze color of his cheeks. Finally, you watched as he rapidly looked away from you, dramatically turning his head to the side. "SHOCK! ¿PENDEJA, ESTÁS LOCA?!"

Adrenaline ebbed from your body giving room for your other senses to kick in. You shivered from the lack of heat and soon realized your rage had eclipsed you to the fact you were still very much naked and now with your torso (and tits) completely exposed above the water from your outburst. Heat quickly flooded your face as you plunged back into the water, mortified and vulnerable. 

Another thick stretch of silence fell between the two of you. You hugged yourself tightly over your breasts under the water as if it somehow could alleviate the intense shame coursing through your body. Miguel tried to compose himself, the image of your tits hanging down your torso as water dripped down in rivulets over your skin carouselled in his mind on loop. 

You huffed. Was trying to keep your feelings for him a secret worth it at this point? After sharing a bath with and subsequently flashing your boss, a love confession felt harmless. Might as well rip out that band-aid and live with the consequences of this bundle of awkwardness. You took a deep breath and…

"I asked Lyla to find a Miguel O'Hara variant in my dimension because I wanted to find a version of you with whom I could take out all my pent-up frustrations about you on," you spoke in almost a whisper, eyes away from Miguel. "Because I'm in love with you."

Miguel's eyes widened. He turned to you looking for any sign of mischief - a smirk, a held laugh, a smug stance -, but he found none. You kept your gaze downwards, your arms around you as you tried to withdraw within yourself. 

"And… I've been for the longest time, too," you continued, still avoiding his gaze. "And I would be very grateful if we pretended this confession never happened."

"What…?" Miguel croaked, still processing your words.

"Yeah, kinda pathetic, isn't it?" You scoffed, a defeated smile adorning your face. "It was obvious this would go unrequited the moment it started blooming, but I couldn't help it."

As soon as those last words left your mouth, you felt a surge of shame rising up from your very core, begging you to stop talking. But you pushed it down, the cat was already out of the bag and there was no undoing it. Alas, it was better to exhaust everything regarding this topic now than to regret leaving things unsaid later.

"And you know what the worst part is? I've been trying to compensate for my feelings by assisting you the best I can to help lighten your load," you started talking more emphatically, adding speed and volume to your speech in order to drown out the shame. "You're carrying so much responsibility all by yourself, I wanted to make your life easier if only for a fraction."

"Wait, it… its not-" Miguel was having a hard time keeping up with the onslaught you poured on him. There were a lot of conflicting emotions clashing inside him, his mouth couldn't put into words what he was trying to convey. The sudden surge of speed in your speech was not helping him in the slightest. 

"Yeah, I know. It's not working, isn't it? I figured as such, you've been really uptight about my performance lately," You spat back, not giving him a chance to talk. You were worried that you'd lose your momentum and never be able to gather it back. You needed to get everything out. "But I'll work harder! Just… Maybe it's best if I quit the Lab Assistant job, I don't want to make you uncomfortable at your own workplace and-"

"¡Por favor, deja de hablar!" Miguel's voice echoed through the chamber, halting your verbosity. "It's not unrequited…"  He spoke more quietly, a gentleness in his tone. "Your feelings, that is."

Another stretch of silence took place between you. You slowly uncurled yourself, straightening up your back as you finally looked at Miguel. His stance defied the words he just uttered to the point you wondered if you might have misheard them - he was tense, shoulders slightly up with his hands at his sides in tight fists; he looked down, avoiding your face. 

"Wait, you-," your voice failed you. You quickly cleared your throat before resuming. "You feel the same…?"

Miguel relaxed his shoulders a bit as he exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. He then proceeded to meet your gaze as he rested his hands over his hips. "Yeah…"

"Oh. I… That's perfect! Miguel, I-"

"No, wait," he cut you off. "I owe you an apology and an explanation - yes, I… I realize I have been an asshole to you lately. I'm sorry about that, it's just-," Miguel paused again, collecting his thoughts. He closed his eyes for a second and, when he opened them again, there was nothing but hurt behind them. "I've been trying to distance myself from you, and I know that that's not an excuse to lash out on you, but being near you made that task so much more vexing…"

"... why would you want to distance yourself from me?" 

"To protect you." He responded matter-of-factly.

You frowned slightly. "From what??"

"From me." Miguel said, emphatically pointing a finger at his own face.

"Why would I need protection from you??" You asked, lifting an eyebrow at him. "Miguel, don't get me wrong - you are very strong. But not strong enough to be a threat to me."

"I cannot allow myself to partake on more… intimate activities with you," he spat, avoiding your gaze again. "I would ruin you."

"And what if I want to be ruined?" You asked, taking a few careful steps towards him. Miguel swallowed nervously as he felt your words go straight south. He tried to compose himself before responding.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he muttered. "I am a monster and you know that. There ought to be a better suitor for you."

You took another couple of tentative steps towards him. "I decide what's best for me."

"No, you don't understand," he spat, his gaze towards the water. "You are amazing. You are.. strong, smart, have an intellect to die for and so, so kind. While I have to live in isolation, in a dim-lit Lab, taking shots to keep a semblance of humanity because my powers make me a monster and you don't deserve tha-"

He stopped upon feeling your hand reaching for his. He was so lost in his rant that he failed to notice your approach. He flinched at your proximity but didn't pull away from your touch. 

You took his hand in both of yours, slowly kneading his palm with your thumbs. "Do you trust me?"

"...What do you mean?" Miguel answered, watching your hands work his. At this distance he could finally feel your scent alongside the concoction herb-y smell. 

"Just in general." 

"Of course I do," he responded softly. "I trust you with my life."

"Then trust me when I say I want to be with you," You said, bringing his hand over your chest, right above your heart. He inhaled sharply at the contact, realizing the softness of the tissue below was the top portion of your breast. He finally met your eyes to prevent him from dwelling on the thought. "Trust me that I will tell you if, like you fear, it becomes too much for me."

"I… " He let your words sink in. He really was deciding he was no good for you, robbing you of your own agency on the matter, wasn't he? But something tugged at him in the back of his mind, something that wasn't adding up - a fear that prevented him from just letting go. 

Then it clicked.

He set the hand you held free, cupping your jaw with it. You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. Miguel's heart fluttered at the sight, but he quickly composed himself - he had a point to make.

"You have to promise me you will actually tell me if something becomes too much for you. That you won't push yourself past your limit for my sake," he started, capturing your attention again. "I watched the video of our last mission and you put yourself in harm's way to protect me and you almost died. Add that to what you just told me about putting a lot of effort in the Society for my sake, it worries me you'd favor me in detriment of your own well-being." 

"I…," you started.

"That first injury you sustained, it was also a ramification of that dynamic, wasn't it?"

There was no way around that, you figured. Closing your eyes, you rested your own hand atop Miguel's hand on your face. "Yeah… "

With a resolute exhale, you locked eyes with Miguel once more. "I guess we both have things to work on."

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Miguel's mouth. "Yeah…"

"So…," you said after a pause. "Can we kiss?"

Miguel chuckled. "There's nothing I'd like more, hermosa."

He cupped your face with both hands, craning down to face you. He opened his mouth slightly, ghosting your lips for a moment as he took in your scent before colliding into your mouth. The kiss was gentle at first, chaste even; as if Miguel was still not entirely sure it was happening and he was under some hallucinogenic side-effect from the fumes of the concoction. But then he heard you whimper into his mouth - it was a silent thing, almost a whisper -, but it was enough for his heightened hearing to pick-up. 

And then somewhere inside Miguel a switch flipped.

His tongue breached your lips, hungrily tracing the inside of your mouth. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, giving Miguel the leverage he needed to slide his hands down your sides, gripping your hips and bringing your body flushed to his. Like everything in his life, Miguel needed to take control and… it didn't feel unwelcome this time. In fact, the heat emanating from his body against yours paired with the oily dampness the concoction provided and his ministrations in your mouth was making you dizzy - your heart drummed in your ears and you could feel arousal starting to build up in your core.

You instinctively brought your hands to his hair, raking your nails through his scalp. He grunted in response, the sound going straight to your clit. You instantly got addicted, suddenly you needed to hear more; to learn all the pretty sounds Miguel could make. So in between kisses you sank your teeth into his lower lip, earning the groffiest moan you ever heard. Spurred further, Miguel descended to your jaw, nibbling his way to your neck. He nuzzled into the crook of it, inhaling hard to bask in your intoxicating scent, before sinking his teeth into your pulse point.

You moaned shamelessly, the mixture of pain and pleasure only adding to the pressure in your core. His erection pressed against you, twitching at every sound that escaped your lips. Your head spinned as if you were drunk, any reservation you formerly had dissolved.

"Fuck, Miguel," you mewled near his ear and you could sense him tensing up in response; he hardened his grip on your hips and you could feel his talons starting to pierce your skin. A gasp of primal ecstasy from deep within you escaped your lips as his talons extended, sinking further into your flesh. Miguel flooded all your senses, yet you yearned for more.

But suddenly he stopped.

He grabbed your shoulders, pushing your body back and away from him. His head hung between his shoulders as he fought to catch his breath, keeping his arms extended to maintain the distance between you. 

"Miguel, is everything okay?" You asked, worry lacing your words. 

After a moment, he took a deep breath and turned his head up to face you. His skin still flustered from the kiss. "I'm so sorry…"

You frowned slightly. "What for?"

"I lost control, I-," he stuttered anxiously. "I hurt you. I could smell your blood."

"But-," you tried speaking, but Miguel continued.

"Shit, you aren't even fully healed yet," he scrunched up his face, spiraling on. "Fuck, this is a treatment. We're in the middle of your treatment, I-. I'm an idiot."

"Shut-up, O'Hara," you spat, trying to break him from the guilt pit he started sinking in. "I'm practically 100% already from that injury and…"

Your pause brought his attention back to you. You gathered courage to continue.

"...and I rather enjoyed getting rougher a second ago." You finished, avoiding his gaze.

Miguel relaxed a bit, enthralled by your bashful display. "But still I… I'd prefer if we didn't do anything too rough today."

"Oh c'mon, man," you scoffed, very much annoyed. "Don't treat me as an invalid."

"I'm not," he responded. "I'm just not comfortable escalating this when you still have some healing to do."

"But-," 

"Please," Miguel pleaded. The raw vulnerability behind it spoke of the guilt he still felt for your injury. It faltered your resolve.

"Alright…," you pouted. "Not easy after all that, but fine."

"Don't even get me started, hermosa," Miguel responded, letting go of your shoulders. "Although…," he said, scanning the area around the pool. "I think there's something we could do."

"Hm?"

"Sit on the edge of the pool," Miguel said curtly, the change of tone catching you off-guard.

"What?"

"You heard me, princesa," he spoke again in a more sultry voice, half-lidded scarlet eyes meeting yours. "Let me see you."

"I-," you suddenly felt very shy at his request, the small break from the heated kiss you two shared seemed to have cooled you down enough to bring back your self-awareness. Sitting on the edge of the pool meant being on full-display for Miguel, way more exposed than the seconds of accidentally flashing him from before. 

Your eyes shifted back and forth from the edge to Miguel, unsure of what to do. But he was having none of it; he cupped your jaw again, his touch enough to ground you a bit, bringing your attention back to him. "I need to see you, chiquita. All of you."

"Okay," you blurted out in a resolute exhale. You turned towards the edge and paused before moving forward. "Prepare to be disappointed."

"I could never."

Miguel watched you with bated breath as you hoisted your body up the edge of the pool with your arms. Your plump ass emerged next, droplets of water running down its surface as you finally brought your legs up and onto the hard floor. If he died now, he would have died happy. You sat with your back turned to him and your legs to the side, as you held your torso up with your arms. That scene, paired with the rivulets of pearlescent water running down your body and the vapors from the pool painted an image Miguel could only describe as divine. You were his goddess and he wished for nothing more than to be your most adulant devotee.

Finally, you slowly turned around, bringing your legs back in the water as you scooted your hips to the edge of the pool. You kept your hands on your lap and your legs pressed together; subconsciously trying to hide yourself from Miguel's gaze. 

But Miguel was nothing but awestruck, trying to formulate a proper reaction. He moved towards you, placing a hand on each of your knees. "Not once in my wildest fantasies I could attain the perfection that is your body." 

You inhaled sharply at his earnest words, heat blooming across your face. His hold on your knees sent shivers down your spine, beginning to fan your embers back to flames. His thumbs caressed the inner side of your knees, a silent plea to let him pry them apart. His crimson eyes devoured you wholly, his gaze searing your skin.

"Let me make you feel good, mi preciosa," Miguel husked, as his eyes met yours from under his brow. His hands guided your knees apart and you followed, exposing your innermost self to him. You watched his gaze falling to your cunt and his chest heaving in response. He proceeded to hover his mouth over your inner thigh - the contrast of his hot breath against your wet skin driving you insane -, before planting a kiss on the soft surface. He kept kissing you agonizingly slow, teasingly making his way to your center; each of his ministrations eliciting a gaspy moan from within you. Finally, he pressed a kiss directly on your engorged clit, keeping his lips on it in the longest iteration of a kiss you ever witnessed, drawing out his teasing for as long as possible.

"M-Miguel, for the love of-."

You never finished your sentence. He hooked his hands under your hips, tilting your pelvis up and licked a fat stripe with the flat of his tongue up your slit and you whimpered. With his grip on your hips giving him leverage, he began eating you out like a man starved, flicking his tongue on your clit, kneading your outer lips with the pad of his thumbs and lapping up your essence like he needed it to stay alive. You instinctively gripped his hair for purchase, his relentlessness robbing you of your breath. 

"Don't hold back, hermosa," he said, coming up for air. " Show me all the pretty sounds you can make."

He let go of your hips with one of his hands before plunging a finger between your folds and into your velvety insides. You moaned at the intrusion as he deliciously rotated his finger, massaging your inner walls, before settling his pad on the sensitive spongy spot directly behind your clit. You buckled involuntarily into his mouth as he curled his fingers and he chuckled against your cunt, the vibration adding to the pressure building up in your core.

Miguel dove a second finger inside you and began pumping them in and out while rotating his wrist. A cry fell from your lips at the new pace, the obscene squelching sounds of your arousal permeating the air further compressing the coil inside you. A part of you didn't want to cum yet, didn't want your first orgasm with Miguel to be with his mouth when his cock was right there. 

"M-Miguel, ple- ah! Please," you managed to blurt out. "I need you inside me."

Miguel planted a kiss on your cunt before responding. "I'll use my cock if you can refrain from cumming for the next… 5 minutes."

He resumed his assault right after with a renewed vigor and you mewled. There was no way you were gonna last five minutes.

To say Miguel was faring any better was a lie. Despite his facade, his whole body screamed for release. He had his lower half pressed to the wall of the pool, lightly humping into it to get some form of relief. It was taking all of his self control not to give into your plea and plow into you then and there, to feel your warm walls around his cock instead of the cold tiles of the pool.

But you were still hurt, your wound was still healing; he couldn't risk bringing more harm upon you. 

With a final barrage to your hole and a long suck on your clit your band finally snapped. Your climax hit you like a supernova, white hot and powerful; you buckled into Miguel's face until it died down and he promptly provided the guidance you needed through it. When you finally came back from your high and managed to catch your breath, you turned to Miguel.

"You bastard." You spat feigning annoyance. He chuckled as he wiped your juices from his chin.

"Didn't see you complaining when you came." He teased, licking his fingers clean. 

"You know what I meant," you retorted. "Miguel, please, just-... Just pound me. I need you to fill me up so fucking bad."

Miguel's cock twitched at your words, still painfully hard underneath the water. He was fighting hard to keep his head cool and not just give in, to throw caution to the wind and just slam into you like you wanted. To make matters worse, you never moved after you came, still in its afterglow, blissfully unaware you kept your lower-half very much on display to him - your glistening hole practically welcoming him. He forced himself to look away before his resolve faltered.

"Next time, Chiquita," he said softly. "I promise."

"What about you, though?" You asked, hoisting yourself up on your elbows.

"I can take care of myself later."

You groaned in response. You hated when Miguel got like that, so focused on an emotionally charged aspect he couldn't fathom considering other takes. There was no need to forgo all sexual activity if he was worried about your healing, especially after eating you out (so fucking well). With a huff, you got back in the water - if there was something you learned working in his Lab all this time is that Miguel needed help seeing other points of views sometimes.

You gently pressed your torso to Miguel's back, tenderly enveloping your arms around his middle in a hug. He flinched under your touch at first, but relaxed soon after. You proceeded to run your fingers on his abs, slowly massaging the taut muscle.

"I could take care of you, you know," you whispered. 

Miguel felt his heart race at your words. He was already getting lost with the way your body pressed against his, the heat emanating from you paired with your scent causing him to walk the edge between lunacy and prudence. Looking down, he could see your delicate hands working his muscles - every little press of your fingers sent electric bolts downwards, where he yearned for your touch the most. Would it be so bad to indulge…?

"Y-your wound…"

"I'm sure using my hands wouldn't compromise my healing," you responded, trying to sound alluring. You tentatively slid your fingers down his lower belly, stopping just below his hips and Miguel hissed. You drew circles on the region slowly, feeling him shudder against you. "Let me make you feel good, Miggy."

"I-," Miguel tried speaking, but the little brain power he still had was having a hard time fighting against the sensation of your dainty fingers so close to his cock. The fact the whole massage was now happening hidden from his eyes under the water only made each touch feel searing hot.

He desperately needed release. 

"... Yeah," he husked. "Just… don't overdo yourself."

You grinned behind him before finally sliding a hand to his cock, enveloping your fingers around his shaft. He hissed at the touch, getting so wound up had made him a lot more sensitive. You glided your hand along his cock, feeling his veins against the pads of your fingers before reaching his tip. You pulled back his hood, circling your thumb around the gland before gently rubbing the slit; Miguel hitched a breath.

"Does it feel good?" You asked, feigning innocence. Having control over him, knowing he could turn the tides easily if he so wished, felt oddly good.

"Y-yeah," he managed to huff out. 

Pleased with his response, you started languidly pumping his cock and Miguel let out a strangled moan. You slid your body to his side to gain more range of motion while gently bringing your other hand to his ass. 

The pace of your hand was slowly depleting Miguel of his remaining sanity. With his heightened sensitivity, the movement alone was both a lot and not enough. Your other hand kneaded his ass gently, occasionally prodding the rim of his hole, putting him in a position of vulnerability unfamiliar to him, yet not unwelcome. It felt good to relinquish control, especially with you at the helm.

But he needed more.

"Please…," he whispered. You lifted an eyebrow at his tone.

"Please what, handsome?" You teased.

"I… I need more."

"You need to speak more clearly, big guy."

"Mierda," he cussed. "I need you to stroke me faster."

"Atta, boy".

You increase your pace, gently rotating your wrist as you pumped him. Miguel groaned, throwing his head back. He instinctively brought an arm over your shoulders for purchase, holding you against his body. He could feel the pressure in his abdomen growing, his release getting dangerously close. 

"Y-yo voy a, yo voy a…, (I-I'm gonna, I'm gonna…)" he groaned, his peak hastily approaching.

And then you stopped. And he hissed.

"N-no no no, please…," he cried out, desperately trying to rut in your hand. But it was no use.

You had the audacity to chuckle.

You cupped his jaw, bringing his attention down to you. You guided his head down, hungrily taking his lips with your own. He moaned in your mouth, frustration and arousal blending together, flooding all of his senses. 

You both parted for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his. He looked at you with half-lidded drunken eyes, a gentle giant tamed by lust.

"C'mon, big guy. Let's get you sat at the edge," you whispered in his ear. "I want to taste you."

There wasn't a fiber in Miguel's body capable of denying you at this point.

With his back to the wall of the pool, Miguel hoisted his torso up by his arms, plopping himself down at pool's edge with his lower legs in the water. His heavy cock throbbed, thick and dark red, covered in droplets of a mixture of precum and the oily pearlescent concoction; a sight that had you salivating.

Miguel watched you approach him, slotting yourself between his thighs. You gently pulled his hood back, revealing the gland to the thick air of the chamber, before pressing your tongue flat to the underside of it and locking eyes with him.

"Fuck," was all he could muster. There was no way he would last much longer inside your warm mouth after getting edged. In fact, he was afraid a couple more kitten licks would be enough to finish him off. But he wanted to endure a little more, to enjoy you for as long as he could.

You rotated your tongue around his head a few times, catching as much precum as you could, before enveloping him with your mouth. Miguel hissed, instinctively bringing a hand to your hair for purchase. You bobbed your head slowly, swirling your tongue around his shaft in the process. 

"Nena, I won't last," he warned you. 

You hummed around his cock in response, bringing your hand up to him with your pointer finger pressed against your thumb, asking him for 'just a little longer'.

Miguel groaned. He would try. For you, he would try.

You started to slowly increase your pace, taking him deeper with each movement. Miguel could feel the pressure in his abdomen building up again faster. He tensed his muscles and gripped the edge of the pool with his other hand in an attempt to sooth it, to prolong the pleasure you provided for as long as possible.

But you weren't planning to play fair. You enveloped the remainder of his shaft you couldn't mouth with one hand, stroking him alongside the movement of your head, and used your other hand to reach his neglected balls, fondling them in tandem to your ministrations. It was all too much, Miguel threw his head back and could only tighten his hold on your hair in warning before spilling into your mouth hard, completely emptying his seed in you in a fervent release.

You soothed him through it, until his first wince of over-stimulation. You then gently pulled yourself back, letting go of his softening cock, before lifting your chin up to him and making a show of swallowing his spent and opening your mouth to present your clean tongue to him. Miguel shuddered.

"No me hagas esto," he said, still catching his breath. "You'll be the death of me."

"A good way to go, I hope?" You jested. 

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Miguel chuckled. 

You two sat in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow. You rested your head on his thigh, drawing lazy circles on his other's quads while Miguel gently rubbed your scalp, admiring the peace in your countenance.

"We should probably leave soon, I'm getting all pruny," you broke the silence.

"I do so love raisins," Miguel joked. You huffed in return.

"Shut-up, O'Hara," you spat back, feigning annoyance. You paused before continuing. "I'm gonna hold you accountable, you know."

"Hm?"

"To that promise," you clarified. "About pounding me next time."

Miguel chuckled before responding.

"It's a deal."

[intimidating-fettuccine]

OOOH IVE BEEN WAITING FOREVER FOR REQUEST TO OPEN!!! Anyway I wanted to ask personality swap between Jeff and Toby? I kinda see them as polar opposite but they are both pretty dumb with their actions so if that we're to happen some how...how do you think they would hide it? (If they even know) and how would the pastas that hang around them feel like!

(Go ahead on dump for tim since ik you wanted to write for him for a bit!)

I tried my best since I liked the idea, I hope you enjoy. Although I didn't dump for Tim very much I suppose :p

You said to write for Tim, and listen I'm going to be honest; he notices immediately that something is wrong. Let's say they encountered a curse on a mission that swapped their personalities. They're still in the same bodies, just acting like each other, however, they are very aware of this fact but don't want to draw suspicion to themselves. They try to be quiet as they get home, trying to rush to their rooms, only to be stopped by none other than Tim himself, questioning them on how the mission went. Toby, feeling unusually dismissive with Jeff's personality, says it went fine and that Tim shouldn't get so stressed about these things, which Toby previously wouldn't have ever said to him, sparking alarms.

Then, of course, Jeff with Toby's personality feels the need to rush out an apology, saying that Toby didn't mean it, sparking even more alarms within Tim. He's standing there in utter confusion, mouth hanging open as he looks between them, only for both of them to wish him goodnight and book it back to their bedrooms. Of course, Tim immediately reports this to Slender, and then soon everyone knows and now has to navigate them with switched personalities for who knows how long. It's strange to watch, seeing Jeff be so much more sensitive and timid and sweet, and even stranger to watch Toby be the most relaxed he's ever looked, without a single care in the world about anything at all, being way more smart-mouthed and overconfident than he ever would be. To be honest, the mansion is just equally disturbed and confused by the change, and none of them know how to interact with the two of them anymore. Slender and Tim are absolutely aghast at the way Toby is acting specifically, as the once respectful and kind boy now constantly has an attitude and is constantly poking fun at everyone and annoying them, and then there's Jeff, trailing after him and apologizing and trying to calm things down.

Toby is dismissive of the whole thing, saying it's fine and they can just wait it out, it's not like it's a big deal (as Jeff would say), but then there's Jeff freaking out and unsure of himself now because all of a sudden his anxiety has skyrocketed and he's drowning in all of the behavioral issues/stressors/anxiety that Toby has from his past trauma (as Toby usually is), and it's very hard on Jeff. Of course, Toby notices this, and I do think he'd probably spend time with Jeff keeping his eyes on him. I think he'd give him advice, and remind him that everything is okay (like Jeff normally does for Toby, but now it's Toby doing it), and I think it would honestly be good for their relationship, as they come to understand each other much better. By the time they finally revert back to normal, the two of them are much calmer and more patient, especially with each other, and it turns out to be a good thing for everyone, honestly. Jeff and Toby are normally at odds because they don't understand the way the other works, but thanks to their switch, now they finally can. Although, people are still timid around them because despite their personalities reverting back, it seems they've adopted some of those traits, with Toby still being unusually relaxed and sassy, and Jeff being a bit more reserved and anxious. They're sure they'll fully revert back in time, but for now, they've gotta live with the strange looks they keep getting when they interact with people.

[scoobysnakz]

Hard Luck

Chap iv

It’s hard finding love when your sole reason to live is your daughter, but when her best friends dad is annoyingly attractive and might have something to do with your rent randomly getting paid, who can blame you for being a little curious?

||* mostly fluff, Raya being an undiagnosed autistic child bc I'm plotting something evil, domestic Miguel if you squint, slightly pervy reader, mentions of oral reader receiving, reader being a silly fan-girl, cliff hanger bc why not.

Guilt. It's an overwhelming feeling that sits in the pit of his stomach in a way he's far too familiar with.

Miguel can name all the good and bad things about guilt. The way it allows you to be held accountable for your actions makes, your mind fray with culpability. How it can prevent someone- him- from doing something that will drive them- him- insane and remind them- him- that they have to have morals that keep them- him- grounded. Or else… or else.

There have been plenty of times Miguel has felt culpability and they have all been about something much more drastic than this. He's lost people, a family, so, so many versions of his family.

He needs to get this universe right. The thought of losing Gabi again makes his gut clench and that ticking in his jaw form again.

The first time it had happened, people had been upset for him, Peter had left him alone without being asked more than once and Jess was just the right amount of critical and loving. They were his guilt.

Then it happened again. And again. And again. And then people were becoming concerned for him, but the kind where they scolded and questioned him so he stopped telling people each time he found a universe he could live in. That first universe was the only one he destroyed he's made sure of that.

And yet he's feeling so intensely guilty for his stalker-like tendencies when he's done much worse.

He knows he shouldn't have followed you, waited for you to enter the shop and prayed to anyone above that your card would cancel. But he needed to get your number- for parental reasons of course. And now he has it.

“I can't do that again,” Miguel groans, hand sliding down his face as he slumps into his chair.

Lyla snickers at him, hands covering her face while her legs kick in the air. Miguel looks over at her, expression unamused.

“It was a complete betrayal of her trust,” his fingers drum on the smooth wood of his desk.

“Don’t think the two of you had a trusting relationship, considering you only just got her number.” her teasing earns her a wave of dismissal.

“I’m this close,” he holds his hand in the air, thumb and index finger millimetres away, “from replacing you.” His leg bounces up and down, jaw tightened and lips pursed.

She scoffs at him and waves a blurred-out finger at him before slumping down on his desk. “But if you replace me how will you watch your girlfriend?”

“You aren't funny. I was watching her because I needed… her daughter is Gabi’s friend I can't have her being some scumbag.” his tone is harsh, fed up, and irritated, but he can't bite back the grin that forms at her teasing.

“She isn't a scumbag…”

Lyla hums in feigned disagreement, her minute pixelated frame now perched on his shoulder as she smirks up at him.

“She’s nice… to me, and old people.”

He glances out the window, dark clouds threatening rain as they swarm the grey sky. He sighs and looks back over at Lyla. He came to this universe for Gabi.

But he can't stop himself from thinking back to the way you smelt. The faint coconut and the mellowness of your washing powder settled gently against his skin like a thin, taunting mist, teasing his stiffening cock.

He relishes the way you let him pull you near. How easily you submitted to the man who hasn't even had a proper conversation with you and pretended to be his partner- his wife. How you put up such a lazy fight against it that it felt almost playful. How your eyes softened the moment you saw him. How you allowed him to help you despite the embarrassment that followed it.

“When you’ve finished being hopeless lover boy,” Lyla chirps, “you might want to y’know be Spiderman.”

***

Miguel didn't expect his offer to go so well. He just assumed that being stuck with two nine-year-old girls for a few hours would be hell but it's surprisingly entertaining.

He knows Gabi inside and out, yet when she's with Raya she's different. And it doesn't feel forced.

The two of them spent ages trying to figure out a flavour because they obviously had to have the same one. They both ended up choosing chocolate, much to Miguel’s distaste. And then when Gabi wanted a sprinkle cone but Raya wanted a plain one they ended up getting tubs.

“It's because she's my best friend, papá,” Gabi had stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Which had made him chuckle.

“How was school?” he asks, feeling a little left out of the conversation.

Raya’d attention is immediately diverted towards him, wide eyes following each movement of his face. “It was fun,” she says quietly- shyly, making sure to swallow before speaking. It’s good table manners

“Papá, we’re talking!” Gabi whines with a pout, “Raya doesn't want to tell you about her day because you're boring.”

So he sits there, practically spilling out of the tiny metal chair, watching them laugh at him and whatever else makes girls their age giggle the way they are. He keeps a smile on his face and his phone on vibrate, waiting for you to reply to his text, or read it at least.

***

Your back arches with ecstasy, hips jolting upwards towards the source of your pleasure. You can feel your gummy walls clenching and when you look down to see what it is that's sliding inside your cunt, you’re met with the sight of the top of someone's head.

Thick, brown curls, all unfurled as you slide your fingers away. They look familiar in a way that makes you feel giddy.

Desperate to see who’s providing this bliss, you push their head away. You’re left with an achy, empty feeling as they pull their fingers out of you and drag their tongue off your puffy folds but you'll have to push past it. Maybe whine a little, but you'll manage.

You look down, brain too fuzzy with arousal to even process Miguel’s deep, chocolatey eyes gazing up at you. He's smiling boyishly, fangs poking over the tops of his perfectly formed, lips that are coated in a deliciously thick layer of your arousal.

“Can I keep going, Hermosa?” his velvety voice rumbles, sending chills down your spine.

Before you get a chance to beg for more than his skilled fingers and soft tongue, the sound of a traumatic radar sound blares and you’re forced awake.

You lie there for a moment, one hand lazily slung across your forehead while the other grips your mouth.

You can't tell if it's guilt or arousal but you can't think straight. All you know is that you just had a painfully realistic dream of a man you barely know eating you out. Part of you wishes it lasted longer but that's beside the point.

There's an uncomfortable slickness between your thighs and you're slightly tempted to do something about it but the constant ringing of your alarm reminds you that you do, in fact, have some form of common sense.

Ignoring the guilt that's swimming in your gut, you sit upright, legs dangling over the edge of the sofa. You sit there for a moment, trying to figure out if you should be feeling that guilt or if it's your brain’s fault. You settle for the latter.

Yawning, you pick up your phone, scanning for notifications you know aren't there. A few from the weather app, another from a period tracking app that says your ovulating (that explains the dream- hopefully) and then… a text from Miguel.

It's one of those texts that you don't know how to reply to, it's got a simple answer but that's rude and all of the emojis are far too informal for someone you have saved as ‘Gabi’s dad’

You stare at Miguel’s text. Let the letter jumble up and scramble into unintelligible blobs as your eyes start to sting with tears before you allow yourself to blink.

I’ve got the girls. Could you text me your address so I can drop Raya off later?

He’s got the girls and now he wants your address. That's the part that makes it so hard to reply.

You don't live in the nicest of areas, graffiti in the stairwell that you have to use because the lift stinks of piss, loud neighbours and a possibly dead cat stuffed into one of the bins at the entrance.

It's embarrassing.

Miguel’s a tailored man, with slicked-back hair and freshly ironed clothes. You contemplated lying about your address, tell him it's some random house, meet him outside before quickly running off with Raya to get the bus.

But you don't want her growing up ashamed of not having money. You can't have her becoming a pompous brat who whines about not getting things. Because that's not who is she now, nor will she ever be.

You tap the smooth glass of your phone screen over and over again with your thumb before forcing yourself to reply. And almost immediately you get a reply

‘👍’

You can't stop the smile that forms on your lips at how fast his response is, he was probably on his phone or coincidentally looking checking his notifications when you sent the text.

But now you have nothing to do. You couldn't pick up an extra shift because- thanks to your stupidity- you somehow forgot that you can't randomly change your hours as a carer. And apparently, you can't even sleep without being a pervert.

Sleep sounds nice though. Your eyes are heavy with countless nights of single-digited hours of sleep. It's pulling at your brain in a way that makes your thoughts fuzzy and your body slowly sinks back into the sofa again.

A loud thudding noise startles you from your sleep. It's repetitive and loud so your first instinct is to slam off your alarm but when you see a blank screen you divert your fatigued brain to the front door.

Completely forgetting about Raya being out with Miguel and Gabi, you pull the door open. You look a mess, mascara smudged and eyes heavier than the weights he probably lifts with those delicious arms…

“Mum,” Raya mumbles, her face buried in her chest as pulls you close.

You stumble back, fighting back a yawn, and nearly fall onto the sofa but Raya pulls you forward. “Hey, baby,” you smile down at her, laughing awkwardly at nearly making a complete fool of yourself.

You drag your gaze up to Miguel, his board shoulders filling out the doorway while his hand clutches onto Gabi’s.

“Miguel,” your voice is groggy but cute and it makes him feel safe on the inside, “Thank you for having her.” You go to playfully nudge Raya but she's no longer next to you, now shyly hidden behind you, clutching into your shirt.

“She has beautiful manners,” his voice is like velvet that's been melted by a log fire and poured on top of Valentine's chocolates.

He looks down at you, eyes briefly tearing away from you to discreetly inspect your apartment. It's cute, homely, you. Lots of blankets and cushions, picture frames dotted around, and a random coat stand that stands bare.

“Would you like to come in?” you offer, attempting to stifle another yawn, failing to succeed as pleasantly the last time.

Miguel opens his mouth, pretty lips parted so perfectly that your half-awake brain might just fall for him on the spot.

“Please, papá! Raya said she has a bunch of teddies!” Gabi pleads, her accent bearing a striking resemblance to Miguel’s.

Before he gets a chance to decline, she pushes past him and skips over to Raya. She grabs her hand and almost immediately her awkwardness melts away as they run into her room.

“Sorry, she's really-”

“Bold?” you offer, head cocked to the side.

“Yeah... Let's go with that version.”

The two of you share an awkwardly dry chuckle before you both look away.

“Coffee?” you break the silence.

“Would be nice,” he finishes for you.

Nervously, you lead him to your minute kitchen island, kicking random toys out of the way before he gets a chance to see them.

As he walks through your apartment, your home, Miguel can't help but feel at ease. It's messy but not in an unhygienic way, you can just tell it's lived in happily.

The waterrings on the countertops, a random bag of bouncy balls left on the floor for someone to trip on. Miguel can imagine himself here, not living, but staying.

Maybe his shoes lazily kicked off in a slobbish pile on the sofa, Gabi’s coat slung on the unused coat rack next to Raya’s and yours.

“Sorry it's a mess, I was going to tidy up but I got… sidetracked. But I promise it's not normally this messy, just today. Which is strangely coincidental but it really isn't. And-”

“It's nice in here,” he cuts you off as if he couldn't hear what you'd just said.

His small slither of praise makes you smile. That toothrottingly sweet smile that makes every fibre of his being burn with arousal.

“Thanks.”

You turn your back to him, searching for your coffee before you grab a small glass jar that has instant coffee in it.

“Fuck,” you grumble, “its empty. So… no coffee for us,” you laugh.

He shrugs his shoulders and takes the jar from you.

“Bin?” he asks.

“There,” you point, “left side is recyclable and right is the other stuff.”

He opens the bin and drops the jar, smiling in satisfaction as it lands with a soft third. He lifts his foot from the pedal before catching a glimpse of red. Curious, he presses down on the pedal again and reads the block writing.

EVICTION NOTICE

[biggie-chcese]

concepts for kurumi wendy gumshoe gabs because why the fresh fuck did they not give her any like actually hey kodaka can we talk-

(rain code spoilers btw)(also gab will stop sounding like a word to you)

im gonna try to structure a kurumi gumshoe gab set but i will not be writing the conversations out bc im sorry girl but 1. im not obsessed with her enough to basically write a fic and 2. i think the conversations would still be comparatively dull due to yuma's function being "the normal one" to contrast the rest of the kooky cast and kurumi's function as essentially the same thing but also as a love interest and exposition dropper. but i still wanna at least give a model of what her conversations would be like for funsies. I'll be mixing what i think would realistically happen if they gave her gabs and also what i think should happen. alright let's get started

first off, obviously they shouldnt be available until after ch 2. maybe in ch 3 you get a new gab page and yuma can start finding new gabs out in the overworld (what sort of gem color would she have??? jade? is that too close to vivia's emerald? i dont wanna say some shit like rose gold). im not coming up with locations and hints sorry idc that much.

GAB #1

the first gab is them jumping over the hurdle of "wait we don't really have much interaction besides investigating murders and blushing dumbly" which is primarily what irks me in the game's efforts to push her as a love interest. at least let us watch yuma spend some god damn time with her holy shit WHYYY doesn't she have any fucking gumshoe gabs I'm going insa-

erm anyway let's make em have a casual talk abt something. yuma would probably start off like "this is the first time ive really been alone with kurumi ahh i dont know what to say this is awkward ahhhh" and shinigami gets rightfully annoyed with his cuckly behavior. but in an effort to save the awkwardness yuma asks her about her work as an informant. i think she'd enthusiastically spout off about it and how her grandfather inspired her (though keeping it vague because i think she could save more talk of missing family members for later). maybe she talks about her first forway into her informant work and a certain mishap that occured, yuma has to guess what happened bc she's a little embarrassed about it (this is whwre the dialogue options come in). but it's completely harmless. maybe she got spotted by the person she was tailing and then got a slap on the wrist and sent home. yuma finds it a little endearing, shinigami gives the bond level up message, and there. solid conversation. next

GAB #2

yuma asks her what exactly got her so interested in detectives. did she read heroic novels about them? did she see their noble efforts in the headlines? was she personally saved by one? the possibilities are endless and could all be answered here. actually lets have her teasingly make yuma guess here. poof, there's your dialogue options.

maybe she can even have a little kookiness as a treat and accidentally let the true nature of her admiration for detectives slip for a moment where it pretty much crosses the line of "that's a bit creepy". not towards yuma but still something a bit off putting like obsessively keeping track of her favorite detectives' activities or having information about their personal lives she absolutely shouldn't have (informant + proud participant in WDO stan culture is a dangerous combo) but she also misses doing that because now kanai ward is isolated. yuma could also be like "wait isnt what you were doing then a bit too much?" but it gets dismissed by shinigami telling him they levelled up their bond

Threeeeee!!!

this one should be about aiko methinks. yuma catches kurumi in a down mood and asks what's up and it goes from there. she gives us more detail into her friendship with aiko and maybe she could even actually acknowledge the deaths of those theatre club girls and mention how chillingly quiet the club has gotten. she tells yuma that she tries not to think about it, but the empty space they left behind is immense... yuma's dialogue choices may be to try to cheer up/comfort her. thank you, next

4

perhaps now she can talk about her grandpa (and also maybe drop how that home situation is cause girl where are your parents). she could talk about her mission in finding him cause he must be out there!!! somewhere!!!! this shit could be sentimental or smth. she could say something about kanai ward's nearly extinct species of people who are still fighting for the truth and how even when things are dangerous she remembers that no one else will do it so she's gotta step it up. she'd pivot that over to saying how glad she is that the master detectives are here bc of that, and yuma could have dialogue options where the correct choice is basically saying he admires her for that. idk. next

The Fiverrrrrrr

final gab. i was gonna be funny and say "probably another love confession like fubuki's and then yuma hits her with the nuh-uh" but due to the nature of the epilogue i actually dont think it does exactly that. maybe kurumi is stuck on a small, separate thing she's investigating and she summarizes what's up. i think it could potentially be a more personal problem or at least something she can connect to (another girl in school missing a family member? idk) so that it's a bit obvious she's more frustrated in not finding any leads. yuma helps her out a little in finding a lead (this is where the dialogue choices come in) and after thanking him, kurumi is like "y'know, we make a pretty great team" (flirting, but yuma doesnt read it that way.) shinigami groans and maybe even fusses about how she's yuma's partner but this goes ignored. and of course yuma's dense ass is like yeah i think you have the makings of a great informant and detective and he essentially coworker-zones her. kurumi then asks about how they could still maybe possibly work like this together perhaps maybe 👉 👈 🥹 after solving kanai ward's ultimate secret and yuma happily agrees. this will make his choice in the epilogue to fuck off to florida without much of a goodbye even funnier.

anyway thats it for my kurumi gumshoe gabs thanks for reading

[cartoonrival]

I ALWAYS GET SO SAD WHEN PPL USE THE DECLARATION OF WOMANHOOD EP AS PROOF AKANES CISHET. Like i get that they wanna defend ranma from akane saying transphobic shit throughout and attacking her at the end, but i'm begging them to rewatch and consider her pov: up until that point she had been able to tell herself "i'm not REALLY bi because ranma's not a real girl" and now suddenly that excuse is pulled out from under her and guess what? She's STILL very clearly attracted to ranma and she panics bc she's 16 in japan in the 90s. she'll insist ranma's a boy one minute and then buy her an expensive dress and take her to get ice cream the next. she's literally not even mad at ranma for being a girl when she chases her at the end, the thing that sets her off is ranma dismissing her when she's worried about them not being able to get married as girls. homegirl did not handle it smoothly bc she was also going thru it hardcore

look man. ive talked about this episode before. i know its widely adored but i personally strongly dislike it because ranma acting so wildly out of character really annoys me even though the ice cream shop conversation is objectively revolutionary. because ranma acts so ooc throughout that whole episode i consider it to have very little bearing in terms of tgirl ranma support. but that episode is BIBLICAL for bisexual akane. the staunch refusal by fans to see anything from akane's perspective is fucking nuts. from akane's pov the PLOT of that episode is essentially EXACTLY what you said: ive been using "hes not ACTUALLY a girl as my excuse for being in love with him this whole time but now suddenly it seems like he IS actually a girl and it turns out im still very much in love with him, and im terrified to face what that means". also honestly i think akane was also annoyed that ranma was acting cowardly... bisexual or not it is true that this isnt really the person she fell for. because ranma was acting weird. so i think we should give her a little credit for that reasonable frustration as well. but in that ep she so very clearly thinks girl ranma is really cute and pretty and wants to do stuff that makes her happy and see her in pretty dresses and to be quite honest that bit at the beginning where boytype ranma is trying on her clothes and getting frustrated and dysphoric that they dont fit her right, and akane says "they dont fit me right either" makes me a little craaaazy that solidarity between cis and trans people wrt body image.... anyways everyone wants to hate akane so bad and read her in bad faith but for some reason insists on bending over backwards to read shampoo as gay