#literally no bad looks i had to cut so many and still have a pt 2 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

x0x0josephinex0x0 · 9 months ago

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Flame-Bright | Part 2

After a literal age..........I finally wrote it. AND LET ME TELL U WHAT. It's not proofread, that's for sure! Genre: BFFS to ???? in this part, sports statistician!part time model!seungcheol x fem!fashion designer!reader Check out pt 1 for warnings, all still apply, DEFINITELY a menty b is described pretty generously and it is almost exactly how I experience bad bad bad mental health days. no smut in this part, there miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight be some *closed door* or implied smut in the next (and final) part. Also sorry if the end feels rushed....................................I have no good excuse just kind of wanted to write the next part because this part was SO angsty and hard for me to write. ALSO healthy levels of angst in this one, reader is DUMB AF sorry if that's frustrating, etc etc etc peace and love and sorry for all the warnings I probably forgot. A/N: This is also lowkey a love letter for @forcheol bc she fuels my fire for this cutie boy. breathe with me hani it's all gonna be ok

“I have a surprise for you!” Seungcheol practically sings as he crosses the threshold into your apartment.

“Are you finally going to let me sell your extra kidney on the black market?” you ask, your gaze laser-focused on the fabric in front of you as you make slow, painstaking cuts. “Because if not, I’m not interested.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Firstly, we’ve been over this. I don’t have an extra kidney. I have the two I was born with.”

“But you only need one,” you remind him. “So the other one is superfluous.”

He shakes his head. “Secondly, it’s not that, but I’m pretty sure you’ll like this almost as much.”

“Will it make me a lot of money?” you say with a final snip through the thick velvet.

“Is that all you care about?” he asks you as you look up at him. He’s half-smiling with an eyebrow raised, and you can tell he’s fighting back a bigger grin.

“Duh,” you say. “No, but seriously. What’s the surprise?”

“I’m moving!” he announces excitedly.

Your jaw drops, along with your heart. “Wait, like…away?” you ask him.

“No, silly,” he reassures. “It’s a ten-minute walk in your direction from my old place.”

“So you’re moving…closer to me?” you ask, doing the mental math.

“Only about five minutes’ walk from here,” he says proudly. “And you know what’s the best part?”

His eyes are a little too eager. “Are you about to ask me to do something?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

His smile falters a little bit, and you roll your eyes. “I knew it! What do you want from me?”

“Well, it’s something you’d like…something you’re good at…” he says sheepishly.

“So why are you hesitating?”

“I need you to feng shui the place,” Seungcheol blurts. “Um… decorate. So that it doesn’t turn into a mojo dojo casa house.”

“That’s it? I’d love to do that. I don’t know why you were so scared to ask.”

He smiles grimly. “Well, you’ll understand when we get there.”

******

“Hey, uh….you in there?” Seungcheol asks you, his worried eyes taking in your dropped jaw and the way your feet are absolutely cemented to the sidewalk.

“You bought this house?” you manage to choke out, finally tearing your eyes away from the structure to look at Seungcheol.

You knew this place – of course you did. How many times had you passed by to admire it, secretly daydreaming about planting camellia bushes by the front door and adding a swing to its old wraparound porch? How many unspoken wishes had you made at its front gate as you’d stared into its old boarded-up windows?

But this house – the one you’d fallen in love with despite its ugliness – was no longer boarded up. You’d wondered when it had been fixed up, supposing that in your business with work, you hadn’t had the time to take walks around the neighborhood. But now the porch is clean, the weeds have been pulled, new grass has been put down in the front yard, and the entire face of the house has been re-painted. It looks like a new home, with its pretty white brick and freshly-shingled brown roof, perfect for a new owner.

“When?” you ask. “When did you do this?”

“Oh, months ago,” Seungcheol admits meekly.

“And you waited to tell me – why?” you ask him, in a too-loud voice that makes a lady passing by stare at you in alarm as she hurries her small dog along.

“I’m sorry, I just…I kind of wanted it to be a surprise?” You give him your best “be serious” look, and he caves. “Okay, well, the truth is that I was toying with buying it for literally years, and the price dropped about six months ago.”

You realize what he’s getting at. “Oh,” you say softly. “About the time I got promoted.”

“And you were so busy,” Seungcheol says in a pleading tone. “I barely saw you regardless. And I knew you’d feel guilty if you knew I was fixing up the place and it was so close by and you couldn’t help. I was trying to prevent you from adding one more thing to your plate.”

You bite your lip. “Well, I can’t say I’m happy about it, but I guess I understand.” And if you’re being honest with yourself, you also know he’s right. You would’ve felt guilty. You feel guilty now, looking at the house that Seungcheol built without you, knowing you took no part in the remaking of this place that was so dear to you. Well, I suppose I’ll have to change that, you think to yourself.

“Do you want to see the inside?” Seungcheol suggests, seeming to guess the bittersweetness you’re feeling.

“Yes,” you say, following him up the walkway into the home.

It’s beautiful inside – but it’s empty. You try to distract yourself from your mixed emotions by putting your designer hat on. “So what do you want it to look like?” you ask Seungcheol, who is still watching you like he’s scared you’ll start yelling at him.

“I want it to look like I live here,” he answers simply. “You know me really well, so I kind of figured I’d trust you to do your thing.”

“I’m not an interior decorator,” you remind him. “But I’ll do my best. What’s your budget?”

At this, Seungcheol blushes. “Don’t worry about it.”

You level a sharp gaze at him. “Just how rich are you?”

“Do I have to answer that?” he begs.

“Yes,” you snap.

“Why are you mad?” he asks you.

“Because you kept such a massively huge secret from me – and now it seems like there’s another thing or two I still have to find out about you.” You sigh. “You’re my best friend, Seungcheol. You know everything there is to know about me. I thought it was the same for you.”

You know before Seungcheol even says anything that you crossed some invisible line -- his eyes flash with a fire you've seen in him when discussing your exes, but only rarely does he look at you like this. “Oh yeah?” he says quietly, but there’s a hard edge to his voice. “When was I supposed to bring it up to you, huh? When you were averaging 3 hours of sleep a night trying to learn your new role? When you were sick for three weeks after your first big project because you’d worked yourself to the bone, and I had to come check on you every day to make sure you hadn’t died in your sleep? When would it have been a good time to tell you?” He pauses at the sight of your face, at the hurt and shock there, and takes a deep breath and lets it out. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s just … I didn’t know. I didn’t know how to break the news.”

“I never asked,” you whisper. “It’s not all your fault. I – I never ask you what’s going on in your life. I’m a really selfish friend.” You bite your tongue to keep the tears that you can feel burning in your eyes from overflowing. It hurts to realize how much you rely on him, and how little he feels like he can do the same.

“No,” Seungcheol denies, his voice distressed. “No, listen. It’s not like that, either. It is the same for me. I always want to tell you when something happens in my life, but I just worry about complicating things for you. I know you always have a lot going on. There’s more moving parts to your life than there is to mine.” He takes a step closer to you. “And we’re not friends because you ask me about my day. We’re friends because we like being around each other.”

You can quite literally feel yourself dancing around what you wish you could say to Choi Seungcheol. Your heart is in your throat, and you have to take a deep breath before mustering up a smile — though it feels completely false. “You’re right,” you breathe. “But I still want to know. It might be a lot to handle but you have to give me the choice, Seungcheol.”

And you don’t say it — you can’t— but you think: it’s worth it if it’s you. And you can’t help but let one tear spill over.

Seungcheol makes a move toward you, but you hold your hand out to stop him. “I’m fine,” you reassure him, brushing the tear away and clearing your throat. “I just feel bad that I haven’t been as solid for you as you have for me.”

“I’m worried you’re now feeling like I regret taking care of you,” Seungcheol warns, his hands outstretched as though to pull you in. “I don’t mean to complain.”

You manage a watery chuckle. “I don’t feel like you’re complaining.”

“You know that’s how it goes, though, right?” he presses, seemingly unable to move on until he’s sure you understand. “Sometimes we’re both solid, sometimes I carry you, sometimes you carry me, sometimes we have to carry each other. That’s just life.”

You purse your lips at him. “Sounds like someone got an A in therapy.”

“At least I go to therapy.”

“Touché,” you reply drily, once again turning your gaze to the large entryway. “Well, I’ll need a tour if I’m gonna help you decorate this place.”

“Come with me,” Seungcheol offers, tilting his head at the arched doorframe leading to a wide open room.

“This is gonna be the kitchen,” Seungcheol informs you. “But I have no appliances or anything yet. But I want it to be a good entertaining space.”

“You’re planning on having people over?” you ask, trying to hide how shocked and delighted you are. One of the reasons you know you’re close with Seungcheol is that you’re one of the few friends he invites over.

“Of course, now that I’ve got the space,” he replies, a little miffed. “I didn’t have people over before because my apartment was small.” He gestures to the middle of the room. “I want a big table here. One where everyone can fit.”

The way he says it — so earnest, so sincere. A place for everyone. Everyone fits. You smile. “I love that.”

Seungcheol beams, and your knees go wobbly before you can prevent it.

***

The tour was, overall, a success. Regardless of your initial surprise, the thought that Seungcheol was going to own the home you’d loved for so long felt right. You were buzzing with ideas — some less comfortable than others. For some reason, the idea of designing Seungcheol’s master bedroom raised the hair on your neck.

You’re just about to leave when you notice a door in the entryway that you didn’t explore. “Where does that go?” you ask, approaching it to open it, but Seungcheol steps in front of it smoothly, cutting you off.

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t worry about it,” he says with a smile, staring you down with unshakable confidence.

“Well, now I’m worried about it. What are you hiding?” you say, trying to skirt around Seungcheol. He very easily wraps an arm around your waist and hoists you around so that he’s between you and the door again, and though the sudden contact is alarming, you glare at him over your shoulder.

“Did you kill someone and hide the body in there?” you ask.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “No. That’s the best you could come up with?”

“Is there some weird culty crap in there, then? Are you planning on running a compound?”

“I actually don’t think I have the charisma necessary to be a cult leader,” he reasons. “I hate that you’ve thought that much about it,” you grumble, “but I kind of agree.”

“Hey!” he says, indignant. “You’re not supposed to bring up my lack of rizz.”

“You don’t have cult leader rizz, Seungcheol. That’s a compliment.” You shake your head. “This is a stupid conversation, and you still haven’t told me what’s in there!”

“That’s true,” he agrees, smiling sunnily down at you.

“I thought we said no more secrets,” you say, meeting his gaze.

“It’s not a secret. It’s a surprise,” he rationalizes, and you roll your eyes.

“So I’ll see it eventually?”

“Most definitely you will,” he assures. “Also, why were your first two guesses murder and cults? What kind of person do you think I am?”

“I hyperfixated on a true crime podcast last week,” you explain.

“Ah. Well, why don’t you hyperfixate on happier things? How busy are you today? Can we start shopping?”

He sounds so eager that you can’t bring yourself to shut him down, but the mysterious door stays in your head all the way up until your first post-breakup date with Jinho.

It is a bit of a rocky start. Jinho is an hour and a half late picking you up — but at least he texted beforehand, a definite improvement for how it’d been when you’d dated. “I’m so sorry,” he says, breathlessly, as he sweeps you into the cab. “I had a lot to do and it kind of got away from me.”

“It’s okay,” you say softly, tugging uncomfortably at the itchy black dress with its constricting high neck that had been hiding in the back of your closet since Jinho got it for you. He’d once complained that you never wore it, and you figured it would comfort him to see you making an effort to connect again, too.

The cab ride is pleasant enough, with Jinho talking about his work and his day. “How was your day?” he asks.

“Well, actually,” you tell him, “my friend Seungcheol bought that old house I’ve loved forever.”

“The one five minutes from your apartment?” Jinho asks. He’d been familiar with the place. “The one that was kind of a dump?”

“It had character,” you say, a little affronted. “And yes, that one. He renovated it and asked me to help him decorate.”

“Does he need art?” Jinho asks interestedly.

You consider for a minute. For some reason, the idea of Seungcheol meeting Jinho feels like crossing a line. “He might,” you allow. “I’ll ask him.”

“I’ll get him a friends’ discount,” Jinho says eagerly. “I actually need more clients these days.”

You nod, grinning at his enthusiasm and pulling out your phone to text Seungcheol and ask if he needs art. After you’re finished sending the text, you pull at your collar again, noticing that you’re sweating a little in the hot air from the car heaters, exacerbating the itch.

Jinho takes your hand in his. “I’m nervous too,” he says quietly.

And even though he misinterpreted your discomfort for nerves, it’s a little endearing to hear him admit that you’re affecting him. So you don’t withdraw your hand.

***

Seungcheol was at work with you the next day. You’d been too busy with the release of the line, so you hadn’t been able to be there for the promotional photos he’d taken for the company website. But a fashion magazine had wanted to use your brand for an upcoming editorial, and Minghao thought it would be good to have a familiar face in the room for Seungcheol, who the magazine had specifically requested to work with.

His first look was a ribbed black turtleneck with white trim beneath a distressed leather jacket. He looked amazing -- of course he did -- but you were expecting him to. What you were not expecting was how attractive Seungcheol became as he effortlessly shifted from your sweet and generous and warm best friend into a haughty, confident, smirking model. One second, Seungcheol was enthusing about how soft the turtleneck was, and the next, he was smoldering like a forgotten fire into the camera.

The photographer was obsessed with him. It was almost bothersome how often she approached him just to tweak his pose in the most insignificant way possible. You were almost positive it was just so she could let her hands flutter over the fine structure of his face and the perfect planes of his shape. It annoyed you even more that Seungcheol didn’t even seem to notice. He (infuriatingly) shot her a grateful smile after every correction.

You try to keep it out of your voice as you greet him at the end of the shoot. “You did amazing,” you say, because it’s the only thing you can trust to sound genuine about the experience.

“Thanks,” Seungcheol says easily. He’d finished the shoot in a stunning black denim set beaded with white crystal flames up the arms. Anyone else in this outfit might look a little crazy, but not him. He made it look like something anyone could wear. “These clothes are really comfy!” Seungcheol says, interrupting your errant thoughts (about him).

“That’s the idea,” you say with a smile. “Are you all tired out?”

“Why? Did you want to do something?”

You make a guilty face at his cheerful tone. “Meet with Jinho about the art?”

To his credit, Seungcheol only lets his smile slip a fraction before he agrees. You don’t need to ask him why he might not particularly want to meet with Jinho — as far as Seungcheol is concerned, the jury is still out in regards to your prodigal ex come home. He’d responded to the message you’d sent asking if Jinho could help him with a clipped “sure”, which honestly was enough to let you know that the three of you collaborating on this project was going to be weird at best and wildly uncomfortable at worst.

But still, Seungcheol travels to your apartment with you to await Jinho — even standing up as he arrives and greets you with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. “Hey,” he says breathlessly. “Did you wait long?”

“Not at all,” you say reassuringly, looking between them. You don’t know why, but it almost makes you laugh to watch them size each other up. Jinho’s eyes widen just slightly as they take in Seungcheol’s impressive build, and he can’t suppress a swallow as Seungcheol looks him over with an appraising sort of gaze. Although a couple inches shorter than Jinho, Seungcheol’s presence is far more impactful.

You can almost hear the tension siphon out of the room as Seungcheol finally breaks a smile. “Hi,” he says, holding out his hand. “I’m Seungcheol.”

“I’m Jinho,” he replies, taking the offered hand and wincing a little as Seungcheol squeezes. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you?” Seungcheol says, shooting you a look.

“Well, I heard you renovated that house,” Jinho says hurriedly, finally taking a seat at the table.

“I did,” Seungcheol says, easing himself into a chair. “And it’s looking pretty bare at the moment.”

“Well, I hope I can help with that,” Jinho says fervently.

“She tells me you’re quite good at your job,” Seungcheol says, gesturing at you.

Jinho’s eyes sparkle as he looks at you, and your heart turns over in your chest. “Very kind of you,” he says.

You shrug. “Just true.” Never mind that you sometimes wished Jinho was worse at his job so he had more time for you. You try not to let the bitterness of that thought make a show on your face.

Seungcheol is watching both of you carefully when Jinho turns his attention to him. “What’s the budget we’re working with?” Jinho asks.

Seungcheol shrugs. “I’m pretty flexible.”

Jinho’s eyes go wide. “What, exactly, do you do for work?”

“I’m a sports statistician,” Seungcheol replies with a wry smile, “but I inherited a lot of money from my grandfather and spent the last ten years building a pretty significant real estate portfolio.”

Jinho nods in understanding while you gape at your friend. “You never told me that!” you say.

“Maybe I didn’t want you to like me for the money,” Seungcheol teases, smiling at your flabbergasted face.

“Mostly commercial real estate?” asks Jinho.

“Mostly business parks,” Seungcheol confirms. “I own a hotel downtown too.”

“Is the house your first residential acquisition?”

“The first I plan on living in myself,” Seungcheol clarifies.

Jinho nods. “Well, we can go one of three routes. You can use the art as another type of investment, or you can use it as just decor, or both.”

“I’m leaning toward decor,” Seungcheol says, “but investments would be cool, too.” He pulls out his phone. “I like calm pieces like this,” he explains, pointing at a few reference paintings — boats at a dock at sunrise, a still-life of dandelions on the shore of a pond, a cozy-looking city street in autumn. “Nothing too modern or sterile.”

Jinho nods again. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll see what I can do.”

It takes another half hour of finagling to get Jinho out of the apartment so you can whirl on Seungcheol. “Commercial real estate?” you say in a tiny voice.

“Yeah,” he says, and you can hear the tension from the argument yesterday in his voice.

“I’m not mad,” you say quickly.

“I know,” he says back. You stare at each other for a long time.

“Have I ever stayed in the hotel you own?” you finally ask to break the stony silence.

“Have you ever stayed in the Grandeur?” he fires back.

“You own the Grandeur?” you gasp, jaw dropping automatically.

“Yeah,” he says again. “We had my birthday there once and I liked it so much I thought…” He trails off and blushes.

“You thought what?”

And sheepishly, he looks down at the floor and replies in a quiet voice, “I thought it’d be a good birthday present.”

He actually laughs at the look on your face when he notices you. “This was all before I knew you,” he admits.

You sit down at the table with him again. “Okay, so, for the past few years we’ve been friends, you’ve been the richest person I’ve ever met. And I’ve met some very wealthy people. Like, when I bumped into you in the elevator, you were already a very wealthy man.”

“Yes,” he confirms. “This is why I think it’s silly to go Dutch when we go out to eat.”

“But you never said anything—“

“Because then I’d sound like a terrible person. ‘No, it’s fine, I’ll get this, I’m actually way richer than you.’”

“I might not have taken it that way,” you say doubtfully.

“Does it really change that much to know that I’m rich?” he asks. “I’m the same guy from before. Same personality and everything.”

“I know. It’s just weird to have to do the mental shift.”

“You don’t have to shift anything,” Seungcheol insists. “Everything is the same as it was before. You just have more information about me.”

“Why is this so weird for me?” you groan, slumping in your seat. “Intellectually, I get that you’re the same dude. But it just seems like you have this whole side of your life that you kept from me.”

“Maybe I was worried you’d react poorly,” Seungcheol says with a raised eyebrow.

You have to laugh at that. “You could be hanging out with celebrities. You could be dating models. But you hang out with me.”

He grins. “Well, you’re a lot more fun than most rich people.”

“Really?” you ask, rubbing at your forehead tiredly. “I guess being a disaster is entertaining, if nothing else.”

“You aren’t a disaster,” Seungcheol says with a warning tone. “And, for the third time, nothing is really different.”

“One thing’s for sure, though.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m never paying for another meal again,” you say, finally managing a real smile.

Seungcheol nods in approval. “That was how I hoped you’d react.”

“Just immediately start taking advantage of you?” you ask with a laugh.

“Well, yeah, pretty much,” Seungcheol says, and finally all the discomfort you’d been feeling dissolves into thin air as the two of you laugh together again.

***

“So…you spend a lot of time with Seungcheol,” Jinho says at dinner next weekend.

“Well, yeah,” you say. “He’s my best friend.”

Jinho nods thoughtfully, but he doesn’t look happy. “Do you think Seungcheol has ever had feelings for you?” he finally asks.

“I’m pretty certain he’s never felt anything past platonic for me,” you say, staring into your glass of water. “Why?”

Jinho gives you a long, hard look before answering. “You seem very close.”

“Like siblings?” you offer up half-heartedly. “There’s nothing going on between us, I promise. If there was, I wouldn’t have agreed to start seeing you again.”

Jinho nods. “I believe you. He just — he’s kind of intense, isn’t he?”

You contemplate. “I think he can be,” you finally respond. “Seungcheol is like … I don’t know. Maybe a fire is the best analogy. Capable of being comforting and quite destructive.”

“If he’s the flame, what does that make me?” Jinho asks you. He slips his hand into yours.

You give him a little half-smile. “If he’s fire, you’re water.”

“Water usually beats fire,” Jinho says, sounding a bit comforted.

You squeeze his hand. “It’s not a competition.”

Because it isn’t. Seungcheol’s fire, as far as you could tell, burned deeper within him than the Marianna Trench, a terrifyingly powerful passion held in check by a man with enough kindness to keep it bubbling under the surface instead of spilling out onto everything around him. Jinho was more akin to swimming in the shallows. It was a comforting thing to be able to see his limits.

This is the first night that you kiss Jinho, post-breakup. The kiss is sugar-sweet, brief, and nervous — like you’re high school kids again. Your heart speeds up a little as your lips just brush.

And there is no fire to it at all.

***

You wake up the next day with a heaviness that seems to have burrowed its way into the marrow of your bones. It’s more emotional than physical, but the telltale ache of your body is enough to have you calling Minghao mid-morning. “I can’t come in,” you tell him. “I'm coming down with something.”

“Rest up,” he tells you, and you’re very grateful for him and how understanding he is as you end the call.

Your first thought would normally be to call Seungcheol, but you dial Jinho’s number instead. When he doesn’t answer — probably still asleep, you reason — you slump on your bed, exhausted and unable to do much else besides stare at the ceiling of your bedroom.

This kind of sickness is awful. It’s even more awful when you’re facing it alone — when there’s no one there that can warm up the cold inside you. You can’t even muster up energy to leave your bed. The thought of cooking something is laughable. The emptiness and silence of it all is paralyzing. You’re lucky — for you, this inconvenient reality of your mental illness is rare — but when it hits, it’s difficult to remember what the point is of anything.

Time crawls by like an inchworm across a vast, bare desert. If you had been able to feel anything at all, you know you’d be feeling acutely miserable. And still you lay there, uncomfortably warm in the light of day, still tangled in your blankets but unable to move them.

It’s a mystery to you how long you lay like this before a buzzing splits the silence. With tremendous effort, you grab your phone and look at the caller ID, expecting to see Jinho returning your call. But it’s Seungcheol.

“Hi,” he says once you’ve managed to answer it. “I haven’t heard from you today. You okay?”

“Hi,” you say in a flat, robotic tone, devoid of normal expression.

And in one word, Seungcheol knows.

“I’m coming over,” he says, and hangs up.

A little drop of emotion seems to spill from your otherwise empty cup — anxiety. Seungcheol knows that you have days where life is harder than others. He’s also never seen you this incapacitated by one of them. A little knot of panic starts to grow in your chest, amplified by the seemingly hours-long minutes it takes Seungcheol to get to you. But when you finally hear him at the door, he lets himself in.

He quietly makes his way back into your bedroom and sits at your bedside. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly.

You try to get your mouth to move — no dice. Instead, you just slightly turn your body to face him, trying your hardest to focus your gaze on him so he knows you heard him.

And Seungcheol leans down and scoops you up out of your blankets, lifting you easily from the bed and onto the couch. He doesn’t let you go, though, just keeps ahold of you. He holds you in a hug until the feeling starts to come back into your limbs and you’re able to reach your arms around him and cling on tight. And then he keeps you in his arms for several more minutes for good measure. You barely notice his sigh of relief and the way he relaxes into your grasp when you finally wrap your arms around him.

When he pulls away, you cringe. But he just pushes your hair off your face and looks you over, and the warmth of his hands on you soothes whatever raw part of yourself began to ache when he stopped holding you.

And he doesn’t ask you what happened, or try to make you explain anything. He just asks you if you’ve eaten.

“No,” you rasp. It’s the first word you’ve spoken since the phone call. And so Seungcheol makes you eggs. He watches like a hawk as you mechanically bring the fork to your mouth until the eggs are gone. And then he sits beside you, quietly reading, until the sun goes down and Jinho arrives.

By that time, you still feel lethargic and nowhere near normal, but you can stomach a conversation. Jinho puts his arms around you and holds you tight as Seungcheol slips out the door, and you nestle in close, trying to feel the same warmth you felt when it was your best friend holding you. “Bad day?” Jinho asks softly, pressing a kiss into your hair. And you laugh — because he’s not wrong. But how can you explain this?

Luckily he doesn’t ask you to. The two of you put on a comforting cartoon and cuddle on the couch all night. Jinho is asleep, holding you, before you can put together how he even knew something was wrong. And when you do put it together, it hits you like a gut punch. Because there’s no one else who knew.

Seungcheol has saved you once again.

***

Two months later

“You better not drop that,” Seungcheol warns Mingyu, who shoots you a longsuffering look as he carries in a sleek overhead lamp to go in Seungcheol’s office.

“Go easy on him! He managed the glassware really well!” you scold, hitting Seungcheol lightly on the sleeve. “And shouldn’t you be carrying something?”

“He said he’s supervising,” Wonwoo says owlishly, right on Mingyu’s tail with a small box of paperweights.

Seungcheol throws up his arms at the look you level at him. “I helped move all the heavy stuff,” he calls after Wonwoo, who’s disappearing up the stairs.

“So did Mingyu, but you don’t see him sitting around watching,” you tease with a smile.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes and heads for the door, stepping around Jinho, who’s bringing in the last of the paintings for the gallery wall in the library. “Need help?” you ask as he comes to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“No, that’s okay,” he says. “You should help Vernon, though. I’ve heard he’s struggling with the jerseys.”

So you head into the east wing of the house, which Seungcheol has converted into an entertainment center. There are working arcade games, a pool table, a foosball table, and a projector complete with a huge drop-down screen for movies. Seungcheol, ever the sports fanatic, has acquired three priceless signed jerseys: a Pedro Martinez-signed Mets jersey, a Michael Jordan-signed Bulls jersey, and a Steve Young-signed 49ers jersey. Vernon is positioned underneath the wall where the Jordan and Martinez jerseys are already hung, staring pensively.

“You needed help?”

“They’re too far apart,” Vernon says. “There’s no room for the last one.”

“How long did it take you to do this?” you ask tiredly.

“Like two hours,” he replies with a sigh.

So the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon taking down the jerseys and repositioning them. By the time you’re done, the rest of the house is practically finished. It’s amazing to see how much livelier it feels now that it’s not all empty white walls.

“We have less than two hours until the housewarming party,” you remind Seungcheol, who’s sitting on the entryway steps looking exhausted. “Don’t you need to change?”

“Have you picked out my outfit yet?” he asks as Jinho comes up behind you and slides a hand around your waist.

“I am nothing if not capable of meeting deadlines,” you remind him, squeezing Jinho’s hand and then beckoning Seungcheol up to his bedroom. Deftly, you lay his outfit out on his bed for him: a pair of light brown chinos, some black loafers, and a gift bag.

He raises his eyebrows. “What’s this?” he complains, but you can see a bit of his dimple and know he’s trying to hide a smile.

“Your housewarming present from me,” you tell him. “Now open it.”

He does — and reveals a soft black collared shirt. “This is nice,” he says, rubbing the material with his fingers.

“I made it,” you say.

“You did?” he asks, looking at you so quickly you think you hear his neck pop.

“By hand. With love,” you say, and open your arms to him.

He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in, wrapping you up in a squeeze. “It’s perfect,” he says into your hair. “Thanks.”

“And,” you say, pulling back before his closeness gives you goosebumps, “a finishing touch.” You hand him a small box. “From Jinho.”

Surprised, Seungcheol opens the box. Inside is a slim black watch. “Wow. I should go tell him thank you,” Seungcheol says.

“Yes, you should,” you agree. “And then you should shower.” You crinkle your nose, and Seungcheol scoffs before running downstairs to say thank you to Jinho for the help and the watch.

You don’t have a lot of time to get ready for the housewarming party, so you end up showering quickly and throwing your hair into a messy bun before putting on your nice clothes and running downstairs to the cab Jinho brought to pick you up. Together, you make the short drive to the house, where you can already see a small crowd of people standing in that beautiful entryway.

You grasp Jinho’s hand as the two of you walk in, greeting the friends you know and looking at the house with the renewed attention of people who aren’t trying to decorate it. It’s beautiful and cozy, with a natural, elevated style that suits the owner perfectly. Seungcheol’s house is full of earthy colors and calming textures, and you couldn’t be more proud.

As is so often the case in a crowd, you find yourself looking for the man of the hour — and your heart sinks as your eyes follow the errant sound of his laughter in the high-ceiling room. Seungcheol is standing with a beautiful woman, laughing heartily at something she said.

You knew he’d stopped seeing that pretty, knowledgeable sports reporter about two weeks after it started, but you hadn’t heard anything else about his love life since. You had a sense that Seungcheol tried to keep you separate from his romantic relationships, and so you didn’t want to pry. But surely he’d have said something to you if he really was seeing someone.

Someone calls your name, bringing you back to earth. “Minghao?” you say in disbelief.

“Hi,” Minghao says with a wave.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Seungcheol invited me,” he says simply.

“Wow, that’s cool,” you say, still confused at the sight of your boss just hanging out with all your friends. “Minghao, this is Jinho. Jinho, meet Minghao — he’s my boss.”

They shake hands while you try to figure out why you didn’t introduce Jinho as your boyfriend. Minghao asks you if you’re excited for your award ceremony tomorrow night — turns out, one of your shoots won some kind of award.

“Kind of,” you reply. “I’m a little nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” Jinho says gently. “You deserve the award.”

You give his hand a squeeze, and then Seungcheol steps away from the woman (after giving her shoulder a squeeze, which makes you grit your teeth), and stands on one of the steps of the staircase to address the group.

“Thank you all for your help and for coming to this housewarming party. I wouldn’t have been able to make this move without lots of help, so I’m super grateful.” He looks right at you then, and you see that carefully caged fire beneath his brown eyes. You feel the rest of the world melt away as he continues. “I want this to be a place where you feel welcome. I want you to feel as comfortable here as you do in your own home. Please let this be the beginning of a tradition where you know you can show up on my porch at any time and there will be a warm greeting for you.”

Your heart is in your throat. The eye contact between you two seems to connect your souls, searing into you like a hot branding iron, marking you forever.

And then it passes, and you take a deep shuddering breath. Jinho looks at you in alarm. And Seungcheol finishes, “there are drinks and snacks — stay as long as you like.”

As everyone else mulls around the house, eating and drinking and laughing together, Seungcheol comes up to you and Jinho. "Thank you for your help," he says to Jinho, and his smile is genuine and kind. "I really couldn't have managed without you. The art is fantastic."

"Anytime," Jinho says, blushing. You grin at the sight of his shyness.

"I wanted to show you something," Seungcheol says, taking Jinho by the arm. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," you say, waving them off. The two men disappear into the crowd, and you walk toward Mingyu, Wonwoo, and Vernon, who are all standing at the edge of the room laughing with each other. "Hey," you say, and Mingyu sweeps you into his side in a quick hug.

"Hi," they chorus together. "You cleaned up nice," Wonwoo says, pointing at your dress.

"Thanks!" you say, a little surprised. Wonwoo usually wasn't the most vocal in his appreciation, and the compliment melted you just a little.

"Seungcheol told him to say that," Vernon says, with the air of a toddler tattling on his brother.

Your heart warms at the thought. "Of course he did," you say. "He's entirely too good to me."

"Where is Jinho?" asks Mingyu.

"Seungcheol dragged him off somewhere," you say. "I don't know."

The three of you discuss the usual gossip -- the other boys' love lives -- all the way up until Seungcheol and Jinho find you again. Jinho looks a little rattled, but pulls it together when he sees you.

"Where did he take you?" you ask him.

"I'll tell you later." It came out in such a flat little voice that you know something is wrong, but you don't feel like you can ask him about it, so you just stay quiet.

And you feel such sweeping emptiness that you find yourself dissociating from the party. Seungcheol introduces you to his friends you didn’t know already, and even in your disconnected state you register the pretty woman’s name — Nikita. She is so nice to you, telling you how much she loves the decor in “Cheol’s” house.

It’s enough to send you home with a headache an hour and a half later.

***

It’s 8:45pm. Jinho left your award ceremony to go to the bathroom, and he still hasn’t come back.

Things have been weird since last night. You’re starting to get the feeling that Jinho notices how you’re affected by Seungcheol and isn’t happy about it. It makes you feel rubbed raw, like your whole body has carpet burn.

But now, you’re starting to panic. Jinho was the one who drove you downtown to this swanky party your company threw for you, and now you’re 45 minutes from home with just your phone — no wallet to pay for a cab if Jinho really did run off.

Your phone rings — it’s Jinho.

“Where are you?” you ask in a panic, your voice cracking with stress.

“I left,” Jinho says calmly. “I’m sorry. But I think there are some things you’ve been lying to me about. So for your own sake, and for my sanity, we can’t do this anymore.”

“Lying?” you say, choking around the word. “What do you mean?”

“Call Seungcheol. I bet he can explain it to you,” Jinho says harshly. And he hangs up.

The only reason why you don’t call Seungcheol immediately upon hearing the line go dead is because you’re in shock. You’d thought that the very real, very intensely powerful feelings you felt for Seungcheol wouldn’t get in the way of developing a new relationship — possibly hoping that any new feelings would push out the old ones.

But those old feelings had grown roots. And now they sat there, planted in your chest, too entangled with the person you are to be plucked out, and you’d been refusing to look at them, but now it was time. Jinho was right — you’d lied to him when you’d said there was nothing there. You’d lied to yourself for months, maybe years. The only person it seemed that you hadn’t lied to about it was Seungcheol himself, and that was simply because he’d never asked. If he’d asked, you would’ve lied to him too — lied until you were blue in the face, lied until you both believed it, because the truth would surely kill whatever good thing existed between the two of you.

The truth being, of course, that you are in love with Choi Seungcheol.

You’ve fought it so long it almost relieves you to say it, if only just to yourself. You’re in love with him, and you know now that no matter how much anyone else tries, you’re going to end up right back here, wanting him.

Your hands shake as you call him.

He answers on the second ring.

“Jinho left me at the party,” you say hazily. “I’m 45 minutes away and I don’t have my wallet. I’m — I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Seungcheol says. You can hear him moving around, probably looking for his coat and his keys, and then he says, “are you okay? Where are you right now?”

You look around. Unbeknownst to you, your feet carried you out of the event space and into the lobby area, where you’re alone. “I’m okay. I’m by myself. I'm still inside the venue.”

“Stay right there, and don’t move. I’m coming.”

You expect the time to crawl by as you wait for Seungcheol, a pit of dread building in your stomach, but before you know it, he’s walking in and scooping you into his arms. “I’m so sorry,” he says, and you don’t have the strength to resist melting into him. Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest.

“Don’t be sorry,” you whisper back. “I did this to myself.”

“There’s no good excuse for him to leave you here,” Seungcheol says sharply.

He takes you out to his car. The drive home is almost silent, as you let tears fall into your lap, staining your pink dress. When you finally get to your apartment, Seungcheol helps you inside before he turns to you, jaw clenched. “I ought to kill him,” he says in a low, dangerous voice.

“You don’t know —“ you start, but Seungcheol pulls away.

“No, I’m not going to hear this,” he says shortly. “All of our whole friendship, you’ve always accepted this kind of thing as inevitable. I have to know. Why do you do it?”

Seungcheol is angrier than you’ve ever seen him — brown eyes blazing, cheeks red and face heated. “I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand,” you ask in a flat little voice.

“I haven’t ever seen you be treated well in a relationship. And that’s not your fault, but I guess I don’t know why you stick around when time after time they make you miserable.” He pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “I watch them hurt you, over and over again. Why do you just take it? Why don’t you fight for yourself?”

“I — because of love?” you squeak. “Love means — love means you stay.”

And your heart breaks. Because every time someone else walked away from you, it reinforced the idea that you were uncared for. Because no matter how well the relationship started, it always ends up hurting you more than anyone. And because the only man who’s never hurt you is the one in front of you right now, and even if he did love you, you don’t trust that you could believe it.

He takes your face in his hands. “It’s not love. Love isn’t the thing that breaks your heart. At least, not when it’s healthy.” He brushes a tear off your face with his thumb. “Someone who truly loves you wouldn’t leave you behind like that.”

Maybe his fire lights some of yours too — because now, you’re angry. Angry enough to push his hands from your face, to turn away from those eyes that are so beseeching and so understanding and so right. “Are you the expert?” you ask him quietly, but your hands are shaking and your voice is lethal. “What do you really know about love?”

His jaw flexes — his eyes flash — he crosses his arms over his chest. “Everything I know about love,” he says with a barely contained voice, “I have learned from you.”

You have no words for this. So you stand, breathless, watching Seungcheol. Waiting.

He sighs. And then comes undone. The tears start to flow down his cheeks. But when you move toward him, he steps away. “I’ve loved you for so long it’s hard to imagine a time when I didn’t. When I try to find someone else, I end up falling in love with pieces of them that remind me of you. It’s unfair to them. I haven’t tried in awhile.”

He brushes his tears, then looks you in the eye. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll let you…I’ll give you some space.”

And with that, he leaves you alone in your apartment, wondering how small a human is capable of feeling.

***

The next few days are torturously slow. You’re icy cold and can’t seem to get warm no matter what you do. Seungcheol doesn’t reach out — and you know it’s because he’s trying to give you space — but you sort of hate not hearing from him, not knowing what’s going on. By day three, you’ve had enough. You call him.

And the look he gives you when he shows up on your doorstep a few minutes later is almost enough to make you abandon what you know you have to say. What all that time by yourself has taught you. What you've spent all your nights crying yourself to sleep over.

But still — Seungcheol holds you. He wraps you up in his arms, his broad hand stroking the back of your head, and you can feel his heart nearly leaping out of his chest.

“I love you,” you whisper.

He freezes. Pulls back, confused. “I love you,” you repeat, louder now.

“You do?” he asks. And he’s bewildered, but he also seems to sag in relief.

“Yes,” you say. “I don’t remember when it started. It doesn’t matter. All I know is I love you.”

And when he smiles at you, for the first time in days, you don’t feel that spine-tingling cold.

You take a deep breath.

“But I don’t think I’m in a good place for a relationship right now,” you say.

Seungcheol swallows. Hard.

“I know you don’t need to be perfect to be in a relationship,” you say. “And I’m not saying I don’t want to be with you. I’ve just learned that I don’t know how to open myself up to love. Real love. And … and if it’s you, I can’t risk it.” You take his face in your hands. “I want to be healthy. I don't want to ... depend on you so much that I lose myself, like I do with other people. I wouldn’t ask you to wait around until I’m ready,” you murmur. “So I understand if…you can’t, or won’t. But I need to figure out some things first.”

And Seungcheol wraps his arms around you once again. “You are choosing yourself this time,” he says. “And I’m proud of you.”

After a long while of holding each other, Seungcheol says, “Hear me out.”

You look at him. “What do you mean?”

“I got an offer. To help with the Olympics.”

Your jaw drops. “In France?”

He nods. “For four months.”

You wince as this sinks in. “You want to go, don’t you?”

“I really want to go,” he says. “And maybe…”

“That would give me time.” You don’t have to ask what he’s insinuating — you already know.

“I’m not giving you a deadline,” he says quickly. “If you’re still not…well, I was thinking we could just — just see where we’re at by then.”

You resist the urge to burst into tears, to throw yourself into his arms and beg him not to leave, and instead try to be logical about it. “A winter alone,” you muse. “Maybe it’ll be good for me.”

Seungcheol looks like he could kiss you. Instead, he squeezes you tightly. “If you need me — I mean, I’ll fly home in a second if you ask.”

And you know that he’s telling the truth, and you know that because of that, you’d never ask that of him. But you still say, “Deal.”

And then you spend the rest of the night sitting quietly, snuggled up with your best friend, determinedly not thinking about the moment you’ll need to let go.

***

Seungcheol leaves two days later.

He stops by before he heads to the airport. “Will you water my plants while I’m away?” he asks.

“Of course,” you promise.

He gives you one last searching look. “I’m not leaving you,” he reminds you.

“I know,” you say quickly.

“And you really can ask me to come back whenever you want,” he says.

“I know,” you say, finally cracking a smile. “Go live your dream. I’ll be here when you get back.”

The final hug, a sweeter-than-honey forehead kiss — promising more — and Seungcheol is gone.

You let yourself ache for him for a minute. And then you act.

You whip out your phone, dial a number.

“This is Rocky Heights Mental Wellness Clinic. How can I help?”

You smile at the chipper tone from the receptionist. “Hi,” you reply. “I’d like to set up a therapy appointment.”

#seventeen #svt #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt fic #svt fanfic #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #svt scoups #scoups #cheol

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amoreemioo · 2 years ago

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[ COVER ]: sender lunges forward to throw their body over the receiver and shield them from harm during a fight. (au5 pt 2 <3)

how long has it been? how many days have passed? how many real days have passed — ten? twelve? more, probably. ares truly didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. or maybe in the back of his head he did know ..

nineteen. nineteen days since their plane crashed, dropping them into the pits of their own personal hells.

none as bad as today, though. it seems from the moment they woke up today it’s been a fight for their lives. from a — a what, a hurricane? the worst storm he has ever seen, one that herded all of them up. all of them to the same place. one that forced every player to literally drown or swim, even if it came in the form of fighting. screams and cries filled the air, even if it was easily drowned out by the rain.

until the fighting stopped, the rain stopped — the sun went down, and the fight turned into simply surviving the night. caring for any injuries from the day, the cuts and bruises. thankfully it didn’t seem worse than that, at least from what he could see in the darkness.

ares was putting what little they had of medical supplies back into his backpack, eyes on the job as he spoke. “i think you’re ok—“ ares’ words were promptly cut off with a loud gasp, supplies scattering as he landed on his back. it’s been a long day — a longer game. ares was a little exhausted, he was hungry. he was slightly confused right now. confused as to why seunggi had knocked him over — at least until his brain caught up. easy to do when there was an extra body here. someone that wasn’t seunggi — someone that was —

“seunggi —“ the sight of a knife going into his partners side wasn’t the thing he wanted to see right now. it sent a wave of panic through him. enough so that ares didn’t think, he just acted. it came in the form of ares scrambling to his feet and just — just reacting. reacting by all but throwing himself at the unknown tribute, though from the slim pickings they had left? he was thinking it was the girl from two.

not that it stopped him from doing his best to end her life.

by day nineteen you’d think he would be better at this. or it would be easier — it wasn’t. it still made him sick to his stomach, but there was no time to think about that. seunggi was hurt, and this girl — well, with the tight hold ares had on a now bloody rock and the way she stopped thrashing around? the sound of the cannon —

the sound of a second cannon.

“seunggi —“ what else could ares do but freeze as his stomach dropped, his world going blank for a second. but only a second, that’s all he had to spare before he quickly went in search of his partner. two cannons, one dead tribute — an injured seunggi. could you blame him for how his head went in that direction? that maybe the knife in his side had been the last straw?

utter relief quickly flooded him at seeing the other man still breathing, even if it was short lived. both hands were falling to seunggi’s side, applying pressure as his head looked this way and that. they couldn’t afford to have someone else sneak up on them right now. but they couldn’t afford for seunggi to die, either. ares wasn’t willing to let that happen.

as if he had a say — he didn’t. but he could hope, and he could try his best.

“two cannons, seunggi — it was two cannons. there’s three of us left. you just — you just have to make it a little longer, yeah? this is — it’ll be okay, hm?” ares didn’t even want to look at the wound yet, he had no idea how deep it was, or if it hit something important. he did know, however, that the quicker they got it down to just the two of them the quicker seunggi could get medical treatment.

“let me look—“

#🌸 : inbox.#❤️‍🔥 : ares & seunggi #💕 : ag #heheing #JSNDNSNKDKCNSNS #blood / tw.#death / tw.#injury / tw.

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aerial-ace97 · 2 years ago

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Aldous Leekie Reframing?

So I’m watching Orphan Black for the third time right now cause it’s amazing and one of my favorite TV shows of all time. Anyway, I’m becoming convinced that Leekie might have been the best of the Dyad Institute and maybe the best bad guy of the show besides those who clearly or even just effectively swapped sides (AKA Helena and Paul). Spoilers though so I’ll put my reasoning under the cut.

To start off, I am by no means calling Leekie a good guy. He was known to kill in order to keep the experiments safe, as in the case of Olivier (to be fair he was a sex offender so I don’t feel too broken up about it and you could argue Leekie hired him but with how many heads Dyad has there simply is no way to know that). He also supposedly killed Rachel, but oh it turns out no he didn’t, so did he just... burn documents or something. He did have grandiose ideas about eugenics but that’s... everyone in Dyad and he honestly was mostly just a figurehead while others did the real work. He also had a creepy relationship with Delphine. Maybe? We never got the full picture on how that worked though. Certainly his status was above her and so you could make a point for work place exploitation but besides that... I’m not really sure what’s creepy about their relationship. Is it just ageism? Rachel and Ira are creepy because Rachel LITERALLY raised Ira from four years old. We know nothing of the history of Aldous and Delphine. Aldous was... also vaguely an asshole and superior around most people. Not exactly a crime akin to the monumental violations we see from others on the show.

On the other hand, Aldous was deeply committed to maintaining as little intervention with the subjects as possible, or at the least, the most that we saw (I guess besides Marion Bowles but she was hardly even a character and MK’s revenge list with her named crossed off suggests she was involved with Helsinki so... not a great look for her). He didn’t try to kill any clones we know of and forwarded the greatest impetus for curing the clones of anyone in the Institute. When Rachel went out of her way to have one of her sisters murdered and autopsied he was disgusted. Not to the extent anyone should have been but with more genuine frustration than anyone I can recall in the Institute.

When we compare him to other members of the group there really is no contest with most of them. Virginia Coady advocated for genocide and rape. Her cadre of clones, while arguably manipulated, were also rapists. PT Westmoreland experimented on a child and eventually killed him in cold blood, manipulated everyone around him to do his eugenic dirty work, stole blood from dozens of youth and let them die thinking they had a cure, you name it. Evie Cho had dozens of babies euthanized when they were ‘defective’. Ferdinand massacred clones. And Rachel, for all people try to argue for her redemption and as manipulated as she was, went a long with both Westmoreland and Ferdinand, held back Cosima’s cure, tried to kill her mother and Sarah, did have one clone murdered, manipulated and abused Kira, and was perfectly fine with however many clones had to die. Sorry Rachel fans but her being manipulated doesn’t absolve her. Everyone is a product of others. No upbringing makes Rachel vindicated.

Of course Prolethians fair no better with all of them abusing faith in order to manipulate the murders of clones. Tomas was abusive, Henrik a rapist, Bonnie a murderer and abusive. Probably way more crimes for all of them.

There are only two members of Dyad who may have had any chance of being better. Susan Duncan being one. But... Susan Duncan was still ok for a while with experimenting on Yanis in the horrible tests he went through. Speaking up isn’t really stopping it and she should’ve cut and run then and there. Also had that above creepy relationship with Ira. I don’t know that she couldn’t have been aware of some of the Helsinki stuff and other things that Dyad got up to as essentially the head of Dyad for a time.

Ethan Duncan is the other contender and yeah for all intents and purposes we’re left to believe he was better than Leekie but he was also... only very briefly ever a member of Dyad. Certainly not the Dyad we see in the current age. So I find it difficult to count him.

This is all worthless info of course. They’re all scheming and cruel eugenicists more interested in profit and science than actual human lives. But in retrospect of watching through the seasons I feel like Leekie shines as not so bad when we stop and think about it. Course he might have been. In an alternate story where the Club sides with him over Rachel in season 2, maybe he becomes the worst of the worst. But I can only judge by what actually happened.

#Aldous Leekie #Orphan Black #Genocide TW #Eugenics TW #Rape TW #Spoilers

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funnier-as-a-system · 3 years ago

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Have you ever seen a post or been in a situation and thought, "This is funnier from the perspective of a system"?

We have, too!

[PT: Have you ever seen a post and thought, "This is funnier from the perspective of a system"?

We have, too! / end PT]

That's why we created this blog, which is meant for reblogging posts that may not have been intentionally made with plurality in mind, but are still, as the URL says, funnier as a system (or have any sort of deeper or extra significance as a system, honestly). We take submissions through tags, asks, the submission function, and DMs (though, fair warning, responses for anything other than tags may take a while). We also do our best to add image descriptions to every post we can.

Has one of your posts been reblogged here and you have no idea what we're talking about? See this website for some basics on what a system is! We also give our own explanation right here!

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Those are all the basics! We have an FAQ and more details under the cut about this blog and its runner/s, if you're curious.

This blog is run by the Orange Orchard, a plural system with DID dedicated to making the plural and system communities a better and happier place to be! You may know us from our other blogs: orange-orchard-system, plegg-culture-is, factive-culture-is, and pluralprompts. We also go by the name Ambrosia online, and our pronouns are they/them or rul/tem/plur/plurs/plurselves.

Here, we support our endogenic fellows who gave us the resources and words for what we were going through when we were first discovering ourselves. This is a place for all systems (and I do mean all), as well as allies, those questioning, and those who just want to look around and learn more about systems. We are against fakeclaiming and will not tolerate hate on this blog. Discourse will be relegated to only light mentions for rare occasions.

Sometimes we get a lot of asks about a specific topic. As such, we have specific tags for these asks, so casual viewers can avoid seeing posts about topics they're uninterested in, and our more interested viewers can look specifically for the content they want more of. Here are our current ask tags:

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It's a general plural flag design done by systemaltoclef, created based on Emmengard's plural rings.

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songmingisthighs · 3 years ago

Text

Hooked

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

ch. xxxi - countryside orgy

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??? × reader, ateez × reader

tw : smut, (I don't wanna say this but) orgy, unprotected sex, a bunch of sexual activities that I can't even describe because what the fuck am I doing

A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?

a/n : buckle up, it's gon' be a long one like 5.7k-ish

After lunch, you all spent the afternoon at the beach together. Mostly running around like children and taking pictures.

When the sun sets, you all returned to the villa, tired from the activities done when the sun was still up in the sky but still wanting to do something fun.

For some reason, all nine of you ended up sitting around in a circle in the living room playing truth or dare like a bunch of high school children at a party. Not only that but whichever one of you managed to sneakily incorporate alcohol into the game should be questioned on their intention.

"Okay, okay, okay," Yunho cut off the laughter, trying to get everyone's attention to him, "I got a good one," he smirked. He took a swig from his beer before snapping his head to you, "(Y/N)," he started in a faux menacing tone, "truth or dare?" he asked.

The alcohol in your system rendered you incapable of feeling anxious on the oncoming question or dare. Without thinking twice, you made your choice, "DARE!" you exclaimed, rather too loudly which made Seonghwa, who was seated next to you, chuckle at how cute you're being.

"I dare you to tell us what in the actual fuckity fuck did that crap weasel Jung Wooyoung used to blackmail you? Like damn, you're one of the nicest girls on campus, I honestly can't think of anything bad that he'd be able to use to force you into being his fake girlfriend," he asked.

You scrunched your nose at the dare, not really expecting his intoxicated mind to be able to remember about Wooyoung blackmailing you. But then again, a dare's a dare and you don't really have anything against letting all of them in on the secret you and Wooyoung had had for a while.

"Okay," you took a swig of encouragement from your glass of beer before putting it down and preparing yourself to tell them. "The blackmail material was about someone that Wooyoung knows and it has something to do with arts and crafts," you slyly said.

All of them, except the ones who know which are you, Wooyoung, San, Mingi, and Jongho, had a look of utter confusion and dumbfoundedness that you actually burst out giggling at how they looked.

"Hey, no fair! That's cheating!" Yunho whined, throwing a cushion from the couch at you, to which you barely dodged as it bounced off of you onto the floor. Soon the others followed in on protesting at how unfair you're being.

You held your hands up in mock surrender, "okay, okay! sorry! I'll tell you," you giggled out, "Wooyoung found my binder the day I went to building F because Mingi had somehow managed to get himself lost there," "guilty," Mingi cut you off, grinning innocently. "Anywho, he snooped and San told him it's mine because he knows me from this freshman year class we took together, long story short Wooyoung told me that he'll release the content of the binder if I don't agree to help him out," you shrugged.

Seonghwa reached across to smack Wooyoung square upside the head, making the latter groan in pain at the sudden impact. "Okay, but what's the content of the binder?" Yunho whined out again, still curious. You sighed in defeat, knowing that he's not gonna drop the matter anytime soon, "It was... A collage, of some sort," "a pretty artsy one at that, might I add," San cut off, raising his beer at you in respect, "a collage of...?" Jongho urged with a smug smirk, making you shot a glare at him, "of Yeosang, okay? I used the pictures of him that I took back from the campus life photo shoot to make a pretty, emo skater-boy aesthetic collage," you grumbled.

Yeosang's eyes widened as big as they could get at your revelation. Yunho and Hongjoong were laughing while clapping their hands in pure amusement, meanwhile, Seonghwa was biting his lips tightly, trying to hold in his laughter at your expense. Wooyoung, Mingi, and Jongho on the other hand were snickering at how shocked the others were, especially Yeosang since he couldn't seem to avert his bulging eyes from you.

The whole thing made you whine in protest. San, who was seated next to you, pulled you into a comforting hug, patting your head and cooing in your ears

After a while, all nine of you were starting to feel the buzz of the alcohol in your bloodstream. It would appear that all of your inhibitions are lowered and the game had taken a dirty turn.

Jongho was stripped down to his boxers, Yeosang had somehow been dared into putting on one of your panties, Seonghwa was still regretting telling his most recent sex dream which involved you and three tubes of whipped cream and ending with the boys cleaning after his mess, Mingi was still recovering from prank calling his asshole former RA with fake sex sounds made together with Wooyoung, and Yunho is currently swaying his hips in an effort to write out his name with his butt, the sight was hilarious and Wooyoung leaving a loud and hard spank to his ass was the perfect way to end his dare. The only one seemingly unbothered was Hongjoong, he had no issue telling how he ended up being a camgirl's extra.

Now it's back to your turn. Out of randomness, you picked truth and almost immediately after you blurt the word out, Yeosang threw you a question with a smirk on his face, "How many of us have you slept with?"

As soon as he asked it, everyone snaps their heads to you, almost as if cornering you. With the help of alcohol, you simply shrugged and answer him, "literally everyone except San and Yunho," the two boys mentioned had their jaws dropped, "Wait, so out of everyone here, we are the only ones left???" San asked in disbelief.

You smirked at him, leaning your face close to his, "yeah, jealous?" it was obvious that the alcohol had made you slightly braver, and it's affecting San. His attention drops to your lips and his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. "Depends, what are you gonna do about it?"

It would appear that the alcohol had not only affected you but also the other boys as well. Because as soon as you taunt him, San pulled you to his lap and began kissing you hungrily. You couldn't help but wind your arms around his neck to pull him closer, wanting to feel him against you whilst you both made out in front of everyone. Whilst you busied yourself with San, the others were watching you two with a look of shock, amusement, and flustered.

You detach yourself momentarily from San, making him whine as he tried chasing your lips with his. But it was futile as you grip the back of his hair and pull his head back, emitting a low groan that almost sounds like a growl from him.

"Whose turn is it?" you asked to the room, eyes not leaving San's lust-filled expression. Someone cleared their throat behind you, piping up to answer your question, "I-I think it's Jongho's turn," the voice said. You later identified the voice to be Seonghwa's.

"Okay, Jongho," you called out, breaking said man's trance to focus on you. Your hands began cupping San's face, your thumbs tugging at his bottom lip as you feel his hips starting to grind on you.

"I dare you to dare me to make San and Yunho cum," you smirked, eyes flitting towards Yunho who is two people away from you. Initially, he looked surprised, but when his eyes met yours, he smirked before beginning to crawl to where you and San are.

Sensing your plan, Jongho chuckled and obliged, "of course, (Y/N), I accept your dare of daring me to dare you to make San and Yunho cum," he said.

It was all it took before you began grinding on San back with more ferocity, hips flush against his that he was able to feel the heat from your pussy even through your underwear and shorts.

Yunho situated himself next to you, his hands pulling you towards him to connect your lips together in a messy kiss. You were trying to balance giving both boys the same attention, so as your hips work on San, your hand reach down to firmly cup Yunho through his pants.

The others were enjoying the show you put on. They too started to feel aroused, some were even thinking about if they were in either Yunho or San's positions.

You suddenly halted your movements on them to stand up. Your crotch is now in direct eye level with San, making him gulp while Yunho stared at your ass in pure fascination.

Without saying much, you unbuttoned your pants and let them drop to the floor as you throw your shirt off. You could've sworn one of the boys watching (most likely Wooyoung) gasped loudly at the sight of your body only covered in a flimsy two-piece bikini that you had put in case the boys wanted to play in the water.

"Shit that's dangerous," Jongho moaned from behind you. You felt that single comment boosted your ego through the roof. You eyed both Yunho and San momentarily, tilting your head to the side as if you were thinking. Your pointer fingers circled in the air in their direction, "take 'em off please, boys," you demanded.

Not even needing a second, both Yunho and San immediately stood up to strip nude. Both showcasing different yet equally pretty cocks, and you just know what you want with them.

Your hands found their way to push San back down to a sitting position. As he lowered himself down, you situated yourself back onto his lap, dropping your crotch directly on his bare cock, only having a thin barrier between you both. Once situated comfortably on San's lap, you began grinding on him hard again while motioning for Yunho to come closer to you. As San moaned at the feeling of your hot pussy rubbing itself on his bare cock, you grip Yunho's cock and began licking at his tip.

"Damn, she's greedy," Yeosang moaned from behind you. You couldn't see the other six boys, but from the sounds you heard, you're pretty sure they're touching themselves.

Yunho moaned loudly when you began taking him in slowly inch by inch until you can feel him at the back of your throat. But even then, there's some of him left that you couldn't fit in your mouth. As you began sucking Yunho off while simultaneously swivelling your crotch on San's, San sneakily managed to untie the knot of your bikini top and latched his lips to your chest. You gasped softly on Yunho's cock when you felt San's tongue running along your chest and around one nipple before grazing his teeth on it, making you squeal. The vibration of your voice shot straight to Yunho's dick, making him groan.

The sight of you on top of San whilst still focused on sucking him off made Yunho unconsciously buck into your mouth. You had one hand on San's shoulder for balance as the other was anchored on Yunho's hip, your fingers would ever so often graze against the underside of his cock and on his balls.

It didn't take long for both of them to feel like they're on the edge, and you knew it too. How could you not? San had tightened his grip around you with his face still buried in your chest and his hips thrusting onto you hard, the feeling of his cock brushing against your clit was amazing. Yunho had gripped onto your head as he began thrusting into your mouth, using it to chase himself over the edge.

Out of the two of them, San was the first to cum. He shuddered and bit on the skin of your boob as his cock let out streams of white cum, painting both your stomachs. You could feel San's hot cum trickling down your stomach. You detach your mouth from Yunho's cock for a bit, using your hand to pump him instead as the hand that was on San's shoulder reached down to your stomach to scoop some of the cum into your mouth before pressing your mouth to San so you both could taste him.

The visual drove Yunho over the edge as his hips stuttered and he came on the side of your neck and onto your chest. The sudden impact made you gasp and push San slightly away to see what had just happened.

Your eyes widened at Yunho's cum that's now prettily decorating your chest, along with San's cum that's starting to drop to the floor beneath.

Luckily, Yunho was quick to take the box of tissue nearby and he and San began cleaning you up from their cum.

Once cleaned up, you stood yourself up from your previous position and turn to look at the other boys. You smirked at the sight of them palming themselves whereas Wooyoung and Mingi just blatantly whip their cocks out to touch themselves.

Seeing that you're already too far in anyways, you pull your bikini top off and pouted at them, "I didn't get to cum, can someone please help me?" you said in a faux defeated tone.

Honjoong was the first to spoke up, "are you sure you can continue, baby? You had just taken two men," he said. You rolled your eyes playfully at him, "of course I can! I can take three of you at the same time," you answered.

Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Yeosang, Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho began eyeing each other. You could see the wheels in their heads turning as if devising a plan on how to take you.

The first one to move forward was Jongho. He stood up and walk towards you. His hands moved to palm your breasts and began massaging them slowly, "prove it then, take me, Seonghwa hyung, and Joong hyung at the same time," he smirked cockily. He momentarily looked back towards the two eldest and nodded his head to the side, motioning them to come and help him take care of you.

In a blink of an eye, the one pair of hands turned to three before you could realize anything. Hongjoong pulled your bikini bottoms off before throwing them on Wooyoung's lap, "go help yourself," he ordered to which Wooyoung obliged by wrapping the item around his cock before resuming to pump himself. Seonghwa carefully manoeuvred you into a kneeling position on the floor before situating himself in front of you, he cupped your face gently and peck your lips softly before positioning himself at your entrance, "you ready?" he asked sweetly.

You hadn't even realized that Jongho had situated himself behind you and Hongjoong standing at your side. Jongho sweep your hair to the side, uncovering one of your ears so he could speak directly next to it, "we don't have lube with us, so this might hurt a little, but you can always tap out, okay?" he said, leaving a peck on your cheek as he presses the head of his cock on your rim.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the impact from two out of three of them. Hongjoong knelt down next to you to connect both of your lips together. When you were distracted with Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Jongho began pushing themselves into you. You groaned at the sudden intrusion. It wasn't uncomfortable, but you weren't used to being filled like that. You grip onto Seonghwa's shoulders tightly while he caresses your hips, trying to coax you into relaxing more. Hongjoong's lips moved down to suck spots around your collarbone and chest, trying to distract you.

"Baby, damn, you're so tight here," Jongho groaned when he's fully sheathed in you from behind, his hands massaging your ass in an effort to make it feel better.

"Well gee, Ho, I don't usually do anal with any of you," you muttered, starting to get used to the feeling of having two cocks inside you. You tap on Seonghwa's cheek with your pointer finger, signalling for him to move first.

Seonghwa started to thrust up into you slowly. His cock sliding in and out of you combined with the fullness in your ass from Jongho's cock and Hongjoong's lips sucking marks along your collarbone made you sigh shakily and drop your head back onto Jongho's shoulder.

When he felt like you're relaxed enough and distracted with Seonghwa's thrusts, Jongho experimentally pulls slightly out before pushing back in once. When his hips slammed onto your ass, you felt your breath got knocked out of your lungs, but you didn't feel uncomfortable at all.

Taking your lack of protest as a good sign, Jongho began building up his own rhythm. He matched his thrusts with Seonghwa's. So when Seonghwa pulled out, he was thrusting in, making sure you're never left empty.

Both Seonghwa and Jongho were preoccupying you too much that Hongjoong had felt slightly neglected. He got onto his feet and grab his cock, poking it to your cheek with a pout on his face.

His expression made you giggle because who would've thought drunken, horny Hongjoong is whiny and needy?

Nevertheless, you open your mouth so he could slide his cock in. His cock isn't as big as Yunho and it fits rather nicely in your mouth. It didn't take long for you to start deepthroating him, occasionally letting your teeth graze against his cock that caused a low rumble from his throat.

Seeing your newfound attention, Seonghwa decided to be a little shit and tease you.

"Look at you, so pretty like this," he mockingly said. His hands that were situated on your waist moved to your chest, he caressed the underside of your boobs initially, but his fingers slowly started tweaking at your nipples, "you like having your holes filled, don't you? Having us use you however we like," he growled, fingers pinching at your nipples harshly.

The pain from your nipples shot through to your core, both Seonghwa and Jongho felt you clench at it. Your mouth hung open as a gasp escape you, Hongjoong's cock slipping out of your mouth momentarily.

The man was not pleased when your lips lost contact with his dick. He glared at Seonghwa and reach to yank at his hair, forcing Seonghwa to look at him.

"You better stop that or else you'd be the one sucking my dick," he threatened. In return, Seonghwa only chuckled mockingly, darting his tongue out to lick at his lips mockingly, "you'd like that, wouldn't you? You freak," the older teased.

Jongho leaned forward and hook his arms around yours securely, assuring that you wouldn't be able to move, "you think they'd realize if I slip you off of Hwa hyung and just fuck you myself?" he asked, making you giggle.

But your giggle was cut off when Seonghwa and Hongjoong averted their gaze towards the youngest male. They both promptly return to their tasks. After promptly shoving his dick back in your mouth, Hongjoong and Seonghwa started a new pace, much faster and much harsher than before.

You nearly toppled back onto Jongho, but thankfully he had a firm grip on you. As if not wanting to lose to the two eldest, Jongho began thrusting faster into you, making sure your ass smack against his hip bones repeatedly.

The only sounds that could be heard were words of encouragement from the boys watching, skin slapping, three moans, and one muffled one.

As the three thrust into you carelessly, using use as a mere item for them to chase their orgasm, you suddenly felt overwhelmed. With Seonghwa brushing his tip against your g spot, Jongho rubbing his sweaty skin on you and letting his thick cock fill you up beyond your imagination, and the lack of air that was caused by the blockage Hongjoong caused in your mouth, you toppled over the edge.

Your body tensed up, fingers curling on Seonghwa's shoulder to grip him tightly and your mouth gape out as a choked moan escapes you.

Instead of letting your orgasm ebb, neither one of the three stopped what they were previously doing. Moreover, they seem to be at it more than before. The rhythm of their thrusts became sloppy and uncoordinated. Your fucked out expression only egged them to cum even further, wanting to feel the ecstasy you're currently feeling. You could swear Hongjoong could see his dick bulging out from your throat and that Seonghwa and Jongho could feel each other's dicks rubbing inside you.

Jongho pulled out and came first, opting to shoot his load on your back and your ass than inside you. You groaned when feeling his hot cum on your ass and the man behind you made it his mission to make things messy as he spread his cum down to your ass and to your pussy hole so that his and Seonghwa's cum would mix together. You could actually hear Jongho snickering at the back, amused with himself.

Next thing you know, Hongjoong's hips stuttered and he came down your throat. Though still going through your own high, you swallow Hongjoong's load and keep sucking him to prolong his climax.

Seonghwa's eyes darkened even more at the sight of you so greedily swallowing Hongjoong's cum so easily.

"You're a greedy cumslut, aren't you? Made for nothing other than good dicking and taking cum, if that's what you want, then take it," he said before letting one, two, three, four more harsh thrusts before letting his head drop to your shoulder, lips pressing on his skin as he unloads inside you.

Never have you felt dirtier yet satisfied beyond anything after sex. Sure you've taken two brutes at the same time before (re : Mingi and Jongho), but apparently, three is your new limit.

Whilst the four of you were taking your breath, Jongho was smacked to the side by Mingi using the tissue box.

"You just had to make a mess, don't you?" he grumbled as he drops to his knees behind you and letting his hands carefully cleaned you off. However, you couldn't help but shudder when his hand reached between your legs to wipe the dripping cum off. Mingi smirked smugly at your reaction, "tingly down there, baby?" he teased, pressing a kiss down at the back of your neck.

"Don't tease," you whined, letting your body fell slightly backwards on Mingi's body. As the man behind you wraps his arms around your waist, you could see Wooyoung standing up from his position on the floor to walk towards you. He was stopped merely a couple steps in by Yunho who nudged his head towards Yeosang's direction, "might wanna let Yeosang go first, man looked like a ticking time bomb," he snickered. "You mean a ticking cum bomb," San retorted from the couch, hand stroking his erect cock even after cumming previously. "Damn it, it was right there," Yunho grumbled.

You flit your gaze Yeosang and true to what Yunho said, he had forgotten about his initial shyness. His cock was out in the open air, exposed by the pants that he had pushed carelessly down just enough, tip angry red and it looked so hard you think it must hurt.

Without wasting another second, you stood up and skip over to Yeosang. You drop yourself between his legs, adorning a goofy grin on your face, "can I help you with that?" you asked, eyes dropping to the problem between his legs.

Normally, he'd blush so hard if someone said that to him. But for some reason, he just found you adorable. He chuckled at you, lifting two fingers in a come-hither motion, "gimme a kiss first," he said. You squealed at his confidence but jump upwards to crash your lips with his in a playful kiss.

Lips busy, you sneakily drop your hand down to take Yeosang fully in your hand. Once your hand made contact with his cock and squeezing it softly, he gasped into your mouth.

You detached your lips so you'd be able to look down. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight before you.

"Red lace looks great on you, Sangie," you teased. Yeosang looked down and groan when he realized what you meant. He was so horny that he forgot he was wearing your panties for the dare.

"Jung fucking Yunho," he grumbled, dropping his head back onto the couch in embarrassment.

Still giggling, you lower yourself to press your chest against his hard dick. When Yeosang felt his cock pressed onto something soft, he whipped his head back up and nearly bulged his eyes out at the sight of you rubbing your chest on his dick.

"Do you think you can cum with my boobs, Sangie?" you titled your head at him. The stark difference between the innocent expression on your face and the lewd action you're doing made his dick twitch.

"Try me," he challenged.

Raising an eyebrow at him, you began squeezing your boobs around his dick and move your chest up and down on him. The skin of your chest was colder compared to his hot dick, it felt kind of nice.

Considering how hard and worked up he was, you think it wouldn't take him long to cum. So you work yourself so that Yeosang could reach his peak soon. Poor guy must've been wanting to cum so bad.

As you're preoccupied with Yeosang, Mingi took the opportunity of your ass jutting out to slip himself into your pussy in one swift thrust. Thank god you're still wet from previous ministrations.

The sudden impact halted your tit-fucking on Yeosang. You whimpered slightly when Mingi decided to stay still after waiting for him to move.

"No, no, princess, you're gonna make Yeosangie there cum with my dick in you," he said. You could hear the smugness dripping from his voice. He leaned forward to lick a stripe from the middle of your back to your neck, "so you better not move much if you don't want daddy to punish you," he growled next to your ear.

"Oh shit, Mingi's straight-up cruel, isn't he?" Wooyoung muttered to Seonghwa, who was equally shocked at the sight in front of him. Jongho piped in from the side, "nah, he just love taming (Y/N),"

Initially, you thought tit-fucking Yeosang would be an easy thing. But with the additional interruption inside you, you can't seem to focus. On one hand, you want to make Yeosang cum on your chest. But on the other hand, you think having Mingi fuck you would be amazing.

But you're determined. You tried not thinking about how Mingi's dick is filling you up nicely and to just focus on letting Yeosang's dick thrust in between your tits, having your tongue graze against his tip every time it came to view.

Slowly, Yeosang started to thrust himself onto you. You adjusted your rhythm to his, making sure that when he thrust himself up, you're pushing your boobs down on him. Soon enough you started to get used to Mingi's cock filling you and just focus on making Yeosang cum.

With increasing speed, you encouraged Yeosang to cum. Egging him to the edge. At one point, you even spat down onto his cock to make him move better as if your boobs hadn't already been covered in his precum.

Yeosang is different from the others. Whilst the others have telltale signs of them cumming through their faltering movements, Yeosang kept a steady pace. He'd increase his speed from time to time and his face would scrunch in concentration.

"Come on Sangie, I want your cum," you whimpered at him. His eyes met yours, focusing on the way you're looking at him. Eyes batted and lips pouted, proving that you're really begging for him to cum on you.

"Yeosangie, please," you moaned out. He inhaled sharply at your voice, knowing that he's just about to cum.

"F-fuck, (Y/N), w-where do you want me?" he uttered out in pants.

"Cum on my chest, Sangie, please," you begged.

As soon as his brain processed your begs, he spurted out ropes of milky white cum to your chest, some of it even splattered on your chin and neck.

You were about to compliment him when all of a sudden, Mingi pulled you flush into his lap and turned you both around so his back is rested on the couch behind him.

Wooyoung appeared before your eyes out of nowhere, hand still on his cock that's wrapped in your bikini bottom. He had a teasing smirk on his face as he pumps slowly, "our turn," he sing-songed.

Without even waiting for you to react, Mingi's arms wrapped around your waist and began thrusting himself.

"Ah!" you yelped, surprised at the suddenness. But Mingi didn't care as he only presses his forehead onto your shoulder and thrust at an animalistic speed. Your eyes focused on Wooyoung and how he's staring directly at your pussy while his hands move on his dick quickly to match Mingi's thrusting pace.

You licked your lips at how needy Wooyoung is. So who are you to deprive the man of what he needs?

Carefully, so that you wouldn't disturb Mingi, you hook both of your legs around his longer one's, making sure that Wooyoung could get a better view of how Mingi's moving into you.

Wooyoung's eyes bulged out at the new visual. Your glistening pussy practically sucking all of Mingi so greedily, pulsing with need, pink bordering on red from the way it's been used, and still slightly leaking the cum that Seonghwa had left inside you, not to mention your chest still has what Yeosang left on you. His hands initially faltered in surprise, but when his eyes met your encouraging ones, he scooted closer to you and began pumping harder and faster. How did he not get hand cramps yet is a mystery.

Mingi seemed to notice Wooyoung moving closer to the both of you. It was then when he noticed your legs had spread wider for Wooyoung to see and you're now enjoying how he's fucking into you.

He chuckled in amusement, feeling somewhat proud. "You're a considerate little princess, aren't you?" his voice rumbled deeply next to your ear, making you blush. You hadn't even realized one of his hands snaked to between your legs until it suddenly smacks your pussy loudly.

The others who were watching jumped slightly at the sound. One of them definitely whimpered either from the sound or from how your pussy is now a shade darker.

Mingi is now determined to make you lose control. Something deep in him convinced himself that even though the others had had their way with you, HE'S the only one who knows your body best and how to control it, bend it to his will.

With the determination set, his hips set to a steady pace and his hand rub at your clit in harsh circles, the lubrication of your juice and his precum (along with Seonghwa's leftover cum that he wouldn't admit) made it easier for him to pleasure you.

You let out a loud squeal at the newfound pleasure. Your chest arching high from Mingi's and your eyes scrunching close. If it weren't for Mingi's arms anchoring you, you'd surely topple forward and smack yourself onto Wooyoung's dick, face first. Although, that wouldn't be the worst way to fall over.

Wooyoung licks his lips when he saw the outline of Mingi's cock through your stomach, thinking how you must be so tight and small for Mingi's cock to be able to do that. Not that he think it's a competition, but he's pretty confident in his own size and girth.

Currently you're a moaning mess. Hands groping onto your chest for anchor and toes curling. The pleasure had become overwhelming. You don't know if it's the buildup of multiple sexual activities or the fact that you had only cum once whereas you had managed to make six out of eight men cum in and on you.

Mid-thought, you felt something inside you snap and you let out the most pornographic moan you can muster as you squirted on the floor, Mingi's legs, and onto Wooyoung.

Other than Mingi and Wooyoung, the room felt like it had been frozen in time. Six pairs of eyes watched with disbelief at what had just happened in front of them.

"Shit, she never squirted before," Jongho choked out, making the other five pairs of eyes divert to him.

"Oh fuck, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen," Wooyoung grunted. He promptly moves himself to be directly in front of you. He let your bikini bottom drop to the floor so that his bare hand would pump himself instead.

The way you're currently being overstimulated by Mingi's ever-thrusting dick sets him off immediately.

As if synced, when Wooyoung's cum hit your stomach, Mingi also released himself in you, mixing your essence and him together whilst still thrusting to ride his orgasm off.

When Mingi finally stopped thrusting, you could feel fatigue wash over you and your legs lost all its strength. All you could do is slump against Mingi as he caresses your thighs lovingly, whispering "good job"s into your ear.

Silence washed over the room as everyone calms themselves down from the event that had just unfold. No one was regretting anything, it's more like wonder. How one second you were all playing truth or dare and suddenly they're all fucking the girl who's supposed to be Wooyoung's fake girlfriend.

You were bordering on falling asleep when you suddenly felt your body being lifted up into familiar arms.

"I'll take her up and clean her, mind cleaning up?" Mingi asked towards the rest of them as he stood up to get you to your shared room.

The last thing you heard before closing your eyes were the other seven agreeing to clean up. The smell of sex was still thick in the air, while it would've been disgusting to your normal self, right now it just set your brain to immediately sleep.

"Rest up, princess, we'll take care of you," Mingi chuckled, pulling you closer into his chest as he walked up the stairs.

You didn't know why Mingi said 'we' instead of 'I'. But it felt nice.

It felt right.

taglist :

@raysanshine @peachy-maia @xuxiable @90s-belladonna @theclawofaraven @rae-baby @sungiehan @felix-kithes @nycol-ie @superstarw99 @skkrtnawrskkrt @viv-atiny @the7thcrow @stfu-xeena @laurademaury @multihoe-net @daisyhwa @scoupshushushu @whyisquill @bikiniholic @yunhorights @exfolitae @simplewonderland @verycooldog2 @perfectlysane24 @hannahdinse8 @tannie13@aka-minhyuk-kun @phebeedee @sweetlikeh0n3y @marsophilia @donghyuckanti27 @se-onghwa @malewife-supremacy @hyunsukream

okay, @rae-baby , where are you?? Why can't I tag you anymore ??

a/n : I called this chapter countryside orgy too much to the point that I changed it to countryside orgy from the original life's a beach. y'all fucking ruined me.

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biisexualemma · 4 years ago

Text

winter soldier. bucky barnes

word count: 2348

warnings: a bit of violence

requested: N/A

plot: you have to watch bucky fight like the winter soldier

a/n: i wrote this literally like thirty minutes after i watched ep.3 of tfatws! it is basically bucky's fight scene in the club because it's literally all i can think about after that episode (jesus christ it had me feeling a lot of things) but from your perspective. so i wrote this, same idea, some things changed slightly, e.g. you are also working with sam and bucky-- anyway! hope you like!

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / masterlist

"winter soldier."

you clenched your jaw, your teeth grinding together, eyes glued to bucky's vacant expression. your stomach was in knots. you were against the plan to begin with, but you had no choice but to take zemo's lead on this. that didn't mean you trusted him one bit, not after what he put your friends through. your hand remained firmly tucked against your thigh, where your knife was strapped to your leg.

you could feel your chest rising and falling faster as the man approached zemo from behind, your heart beating harder in your chest. the main reason behind your not wanting to go through with this mission was bucky. you knew how hard he worked every day to remove himself from his past, and here he was, again, placed right in the middle of everything he wanted to forget. the only reason you agreed to it was bucky's reassurance that he could handle it.

but right now, you were reminded of the man you met many years ago for the first time, only without the mask.

the man's hand fell onto zemo's shoulder. "attack," he spoke in the eerily familiar tongue.

he didn't hesitate, his vibranium arm snatched the man's hand away from zemo, you swore you heard something crack. you clutched your knife, yanking it out of it's holder, but before you got any further, sam's hand was restraining you. he didn't look your way, holding his cover, instead you both watched bucky drag the man away from the three of you, twisting his arm behind his back to where you heard another disturbingly loud crack.

you tried to keep your cover, but you couldn't help but flinch watching him use his full force to plough his vibranium arm against the mans chest, knocking him off his feet. his body slammed against the hard floor and you gulped, sam's hand tightening around your wrist when you made to move again.

"hold it," you glanced at sam for a split second, his eyebrows knitted tightly together watching the winter soldier in action, but he knew the consequences if he made to intervene. you could tell it was unsettling sam just as much as it was you, to watch bucky like this. but you had no choice but to stand and watch your boyfriend ruin anyone who came within a foot of him.

the bar was silent, the only sounds to be heard were the muffled groans coming from the man at bucky's feet. you noticed some of the people surrounding the fight had pulled out their phones and began recording the scene. you wanted to snatch them away and crumple them, but resolved to taking a deep breath and biting down on your tongue as hard as you could. you just had to endure for a little while longer and then it would be over.

you watched as bucky took apart two more men who came swinging towards him, zemo's expression was full of more amusement than you cared for. you felt blood trickling in your mouth, the metallic taste filling your taste buds after you had flinched and bit down harder on your tongue.

if sam hadn't been there to physically restrain you, you would've intervened long before this could start. you knew bucky was no longer controlled by zemo, but watching him fight like this was a brutal reminder of everything bucky had done and been through. you dreaded to think how it was making him feel having to slip back into the mindlessly violent nature that had been drilled into him.

sam's eyes darted around, watching bucky take out one guy after the next. zemo couldn't keep himself out of it, he shoved forward a bystander, watching, almost gleefully, as bucky threw a swing at the man, spinning him backwards before delivering another blow so forceful it took out another man standing behind him. your breath hitched in your throat, you couldn't stop yourself from cringing when another man was thrown off his feet, his spine cracking harshly against the metal joists when bucky's metal arm collided with his torso and sent him flying.

your ears were ringing slightly, your throat tightening the longer you watched this go on. "didn't take much for him to fall back into form," you heard zemo lean into sam's ear to mumble this but you caught it. you were going to kill that man yourself after this mission was over.

sam's grip loosened on your wrist when bucky clenched his metal hand around one man's neck, lifting him off his feet and slamming him down against the bar. you moved away from sam before he could stop you, your eyes wide with fear when bucky tightened his grip, the man's gasps for air were all that could be heard, that, and the cocking of several guns.

your hand moved from its position on your knife, to the cool metal of bucky's arm where he stood slowly cutting off this mans air supply. you clenched your hand tightly to pull him away, but he didn't shift, his intense gaze was locked on the man beneath him.

"stay in character or the whole bar turns on us," zemo muttered under his breath, his eyes wide and locked on yours. you hesitated, but pulled yourself away, not wanting to be the reason this mission was unsuccessful after everything you'd done to get to this point. you knew how much was riding on this.

you let out short, strained breaths, your eyes still locked on bucky's unwavering expression. you wondered how much he still felt in control of himself, or whether he was simply just keeping up the act.

"well done, soldier," zemo spoke after a brief silence. your stomach churned every time he would use that tongue to speak to bucky.

you watched bucky's eyes shift up to the bartender, his eyebrows slightly knitted and his hand slowly unclenching from around the mans throat. the man let out a strained wheeze, the breath returning to his lungs as bucky released his grip and let him fall to the ground with a thud behind him.

bucky could hear your loud, jagged breathing as you stood as close as possible to him without raising suspicion. he almost broke away when he felt your hand grip his arm earlier. but he didn't dare look to you, instead he kept his stare locked on the bartender in front of him, waiting for the words.

"silby will see you now," the bartender was watching bucky with an uneasy expression across his face. you watched bucky's chest rising and falling, you wanted desperately to reach out and touch his hand but you had to remind yourself why you were in this position to begin with. you needed to follow zemo's lead, find the source of the super-soldier serum and then you could deal with how you were feeling later.

"you good?" your voice came out smaller than you intended it to. you studied his expression from his profile, his tight lips and clenched jaw, waiting for him to break and look at you, but he didn't. he let out a quiet, hmph, nodding once before following zemo and sam to the back of the club.

you wished you were back in the club watching bucky beat those guys to a pulp, because after the past few hours, things somehow managed to go from bad to worse. your lead was now dead, literally, you bumped into sharon, of all people, who was meaner than you ever remember her being, and there was also a bounty on all of your heads.

currently, you were sat alone after having picked out fresh clothes from sharon's closet. she had reluctantly let you guys crash at her place, agreeing to help find a lead to doctor nagel.

you weren't sure how long you'd been sat staring at the wall in front of you until you heard footsteps approaching the room you were in. you didn't have to look to know who it was, you already knew. he sat beside you quietly, without saying a word. you could feel his eyes on you for a while before you forced yourself to meet his gaze. it was the first time you'd looked at him as himself, since the incident earlier. you gulped, his blue eyes not shifting from your own for even a second.

"hey," he mumbled softly. your eyebrows knitted into a delicate frown, you found yourself biting down on your tongue again. "you good?" you nodded, close lipped as you shifted your eyes from his face and down to your hands. you hadn't noticed your hands had clenched into tight fists.

after a brief silence, you felt your fingers uncurl, bucky's hand now enclosed in your fist. you let out a shaky breath, revelling in the comfort his touch brought you. you fiddled with his fingers, a habit you had when you were anxious that bucky let you use him for.

"are you good?" you gulped, glancing at him for a second before focusing on your tangled hands again. he nodded, letting out a quiet hum.

"i wouldn't've gone in there if i thought i couldn't handle it," you nodded, feeling his hand squeeze yours briefly. "i came to check on you."

your eyes fluttered, a wave of tire washing over you suddenly. you shook your head. "i'm fine, don't worry," you said it out of habit, but you knew bucky was the type to always worry. especially when it came to you.

"i never wanted you to have to see that again," you knew he was referring to the winter soldier. you had fought him back in the day with sam, nat and steve, before any of you knew who he really was. you'd been through a lot together, only recently had you become more than friends. or at least, you were trying to give it a go, things just kept getting in the way.

"i hardly saw anything," you tried to lie to ease his conscience. you sighed, looking up into his eyes again, they were soft and inviting, his lashes fluttering slightly when you met his gaze.

"you've always been a terrible liar," he tightened his lips into a halfhearted, closed-mouthed smile, trying to ease some of your anxiety. you mimicked his weak attempt at a smile, moving closer to him and leaning your head atop his shoulder. he shifted his free arm around your waist, tugging you as close to him as possible, leaning down to press a lingering kiss atop your head.

"i just want you to be safe, buck," you admitted. "i don't like that you're having to go through all this again-- what with zemo-- and this place-- i see how people look at you, how they talk to you."

"i know, doll," he mumbled, his lips resting softly against your temple now. you tried to relish in the short amount of time you had alone with him, your eyes closing for a moment as you breathed in his scent. "i don't like it either, but it's just for a bit longer."

you hummed quietly, letting yourself relax in his arm. your hand was still tangled with his own, your fidgeting had stopped and instead you let your fingers intertwine with his, him squeezing your hand now and again for reassurance.

"thank you for looking out for me," he spoke after a while of you two embracing each others company. "it's been a while, but it's a nice feeling."

you lifted your head, tilting your head back to get a good look at his face. he looked tired, but still wore a small, appreciative smile on his lips, along with his soft gaze. you felt your stomach flutter, you couldn't disguise a similar smile working it's way onto your lips. something about bucky was so sweet, in his nature, he cared so much for the people around him even if he was bad at communicating it sometimes. you wanted a better and quieter life for him when this was all finally over.

"it's nice to have someone to look out for," you muttered truthfully. you had spent such a long time fighting with the avengers, you'd never had the time to even go out on a date, never mind figuring out a relationship. and though it was difficult, sometimes, navigating your relationship with bucky, you knew at the end of the day, you liked him a lot, and you only wanted to be with him. and you were pretty sure he felt the same way towards you.

bucky's hand moved away from yours, to your chin, using his forefinger and thumb to tilt your chin upwards, your face moving closer to his. he leaned down and caught his lips against yours, his hand drifting to your jawline, where he held your face in the palm of his hand. your mind thought of nothing but the feeling of his lips moving against yours, soft and slow.

it didn't matter what was going to happen next, as long as bucky was there with you.

"oh-- shit-- i should've knocked," you pulled away, chuckling against bucky's lips, peeking out the corner of your eye to see sam had walked in and frozen once he realised what he'd walked in on. bucky groaned, his eyes rolling. of course, sam was interrupting.

"please-- get out," he shot a stone-cold glare towards sam, who chuckled uncomfortably.

"oh-- i wish i could," he groaned. "that was something i wish i'd never seen-- but the party is starting soon-- we gotta get out there."

you broke away, realising your short, but sweet moment was over. you kissed bucky quickly, one last time before pushing yourself up trying to shake your head clear of any thoughts of your boyfriend so you could focus on the mission.

you heard sam lower his voice, thinking somehow you wouldn't be able to hear him as he hung back with bucky, you walking ahead. "how you still got game like that? you're like a hundred and two--"

"hundred and six," he corrected, frowning at his partner. " and stop talking about my game."

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the-virgoperspective · 3 years ago

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astro observations pt.2

thank you all sm for the love on my first obsv post!! let’s dive into the next one, round two, here we go! same rules apply! please keep in mind that every aspect, degree, house, and sign placement is unique and even though you may have the same, it still may not apply. take what resonates and leave what doesn’t ❤️‍🔥 the red theme isn’t intentional i’m just really feeling the color rn

❤️‍🔥 tw: mentions of s*x, bullying, depression, & body dysmorphia ❤️‍🔥

❤️‍🔥 mercury in 11th are the top tier peacekeepers! they always know what to say, how to say it, and when. they can talk to anyone about p much anything and usually have soft voices esp if it is in libra or pisces!

❤️‍🔥 hot take but cap moons are literal babies dressed in well tailored suits. no shade to them at all bc i’m just as much of a baby sometimes but i see straight through that wall they put up. i had a friend with a cap sun and moon and it was like she knew i knew how much she was feeling. she cried around me very often and liked expressing her stress and frustration through it! if anyone, i was the emotionless one in the friendship, and i think i only let her see me cry once after knowing her for a year

❤️‍🔥 imo water and air moons clash way harder than water and fire moons. the way air moons analyze and compartmentalize how they feel can be difficult for a water moon to relate to. their usual natural reaction is to comfort, which is not always what an air moon wants, but fire moons love that shit. *cough* aries moons *cough*

❤️‍🔥 leo ascendants command attention without them even having to try. they just walk in and people have to take a second look! they posses this air of confidence that is so captivating and at times enviable. ily hotties, y’all bad asf 💋

❤️‍🔥 it’s really true that someone’s pluto falling in your 8th house can make you envy them to the point of your own destruction. an old friend of mine had her pluto in 1st in my 8th and sweet baby jesus what a toxic friendship that was! everything that pluto embodied i felt hidden within me while she had it on display, front and center, and it made me so jealous. i’d always wanted to be seen in the way that people saw her and her energy was so powerful and alluring, that when we were out together people barely even acknowledged me! after a while, i began to resent her so badly that i was just waiting for her to fuck up so i could cut her off. eventually, she did, and i did just that; but i can’t help but kick myself for even staying in a friendship that deep down, was never a friendship to begin with (on my end) 😕 also our pluto placements were conjunct each other so this energy was verrry strong

❤️‍🔥 mars in 1st are such blunt and boisterous people, usually not in a bad way, they just don’t see the point in beating around the bush. they will not make themselves feel small for any reason and it doesn’t matter what their big 3 is, mars is at home in the 1st, and he will take control. they have a laughter that is loud and joyful with very lively and energetic spirits! however, their aggressive side is extremely powerful and not to be provoked

❤️‍🔥 taurus suns are the most fun earth sign, and as a virgo i hate to admit it, but it’s true! they really know how to enjoy the moment when necessary and highly value a good time. the type to have a company meeting at 6pm and leave for a party straight after😂 and they def had their outfit on under their work clothes

❤️‍🔥 aquarius/11th placement natives are so friendly!!! not at all like they are so stereotypically painted out to be. many of them possess so much warmth and love for other people and are truly some of the best friends you can have! they’re the ones to remember tiny details about you or to surprise you with something you’d been keeping an eye on. very conscientious natives with large hearts

❤️‍🔥 if being pursued is something that you want, do not expect a libra mars to do it! they most likely will not take action because they can feel restricted in this area. if they do, it was after hours of contemplation and weighing pros and cons. once they’re committed though, they are very romantic and intentional

❤️‍🔥 this is only a theory! but! something i’ve noticed with scorpio ascendants is that they can be keen on giving people nicknames that stick forever (good or bad). with their 3rd house usually falling into the sign of aquarius or capricorn, the names they call people can be very original and also hilarious! an old scorpio asc friend of mine used to call this girl in our class by a nickname that stuck throughout our entire high school career 💀 i felt kinda bad for the girl even though she wasn’t the greatest

❤️‍🔥 sagittarius venus/venus in 9th natives take a lot of interest in people who appear to be very well-rounded and educated! they usually prefer to associate with those who have a thirst for knowledge like they do to bounce philosophical facts off of. also there’s a good chance they are multi-lingual and/or are wanting to learn a new language

❤️‍🔥 to piggyback off the last tid bit, sagittarius placements/degrees in general can indicate an interest or natural ability to learn languages! sagittarius is associated with the expansion of knowledge and love for culture so it is very likely that a person with a sag placement will be interested in these things. my mom has a sag mars & a 9H venus, is fluent in spanish and sign language, and she goes on multiple trips every year!

❤️‍🔥 gemini with pisces placements (esp sun/moon/asc/merc) can make someone very emotionally and mentally erratic. like they are a walking contradiction 24/7! prominent earth placements can add some stability but that sporadic energy is still felt regardless. they also might have a lot of trouble going to sleep and/or staying asleep

❤️‍🔥 i’ve been seeing many people mention that virgos/virgo placements have a thing for making people feel horrible about their appearances and as a virgo raised by a virgo i have to chime in. it’s true. it’s sooo fuckin true it hurts. i even recognized that the way my mother would judge what people wore or how they looked was starting to bleed into my way of viewing the world. not only that, but i can’t remember a single day when she didn’t make a comment on what i looked like- and i mean every day. some were better than others, but it was extremely difficult hearing my mom say these things to me, especially when she thought she was being helpful. as a self-conscious, self-restricted, and insecure saturn in 1st baby trying to grow up, the things she said heavily contributed to my depression and body dysmorphia. it’s a daily battle but being aware and correcting the judgements i make of myself and others, and staying consciously open-minded, has helped A TON. virgos can be cut throat and their tongues are sharp as knives. there are ones that use those tongues for good and others for bad, and sometimes their intention is good, but the delivery can be severe in the most subtle of ways. but virgos are not the only ones who will tear your confidence to shreds! my libra sun granny is the most judgmental yet the least judgmental person i’ve ever known and it’s so infuriating??? (she deserves her own post tbh) also i had a cancer friend who’d literally never let me have a moment of peace if i wore something around her that she didn’t like, but she was just toxic as a whole 🤣 but yeah that’s my two cents, there are a lot of virgo placement people who are so terribly judgmental but there are plenty of gems out there who are working on their shit or have gotten it together! but psa, and i don’t care what your sun sign is, you never have the right to make someone else feel like shit for the way they look. and if you feel as though you do, there is a very special circle in hell for you ol’ buddy xoxo

~ i hope you all enjoyed this post, and once again if something resonates, please share! have a lovely day besties 💋

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lonely-lost-soul · 4 years ago

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Under the Floorboards Part: X

(C!Technoblade x Reader)

First Part: Pt. I

Fanart for this chapter made by the wonderful @theoneandonlyyeti please show them love!

Content Warning: Itty Bitty Spice Ahead! Please be wary I will let you know when it stops and starts so you can skip!

~~~

You never thought you would want kids of your own, adopting already children was completely fine but when it came to having your own you weren't too sure. However, you do know what it might be like to have a baby, that is to say, your injured husband was basically an overgrown baby. Ultimately it was your fault, the man kept pulling his stitches trying to do anything, which made both you and Ranboo frustrated as hell. Technoblade just couldn't sit still and it was driving you mad, you'd scold him and much like a child he'd pout and tell you no. After the fourth time pulling the stitches while he was trying to tame a polar bear, you had bound him to the bed. Not physically, of course, but if you saw him out of bed you'd usher him back in with whatever bribes that were needed to convince. Technoblade was understandably not happy with this development, but the brides always seemed to work, if they didn't you'd pull out the big guns. Appealing to the voices always seemed to work without fail, whether it be only referring to them or ignoring him completely they always got him to shut up and sit down. At the end of the third week, he seemed to be so used to your constant attention and nurse-like tenderness that whenever you weren't fully tending to him he had a tantrum. You tried to be patient, especially because it was partially your fault he was injured in the first place, but you couldn't help but get annoyed at his clinginess.

"Techno. Baby, you have to let go of me." His arms were wrapped securely around your waist, you both were sitting on a small cot by the fire. You allowed him to get out of bed sometimes okay, you weren't a monster; so long as he wasn't out fighting monsters and blowing up nations. He let out a deep purr and buried his head in your chest,

"No, I don't think I will," He mused a smirk evident in his voice although you couldn't see his face. You tsked softly, running your fingers through his hair,

"Tech?"

"Hm."

"Let go of me or I will take a pair of scissors to your hair." His hands immediately released their hold on you, he pulled away from your warm body, a pout etched across his features. "Thank you, my love," You kissed his forehead and he relaxed just slightly. "You think you can make it to the kitchen on your own for some lunch?" You gave a tilt to your head and Technoblade smiled softly,

"I'll head there in a few minutes, I wanna try and clean up on my own first, I feel gross." Technoblade sat up with a wince his bandages needed cleaning, he gave his neck a crack to shake away any residual pain. He stood up letting the blankets slide down his body; his hair had been perpetually tied up in a messy bun; his stubble was also slightly overgrown. He needed a makeover desperately, the voices were very much in agreement when he caught a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror. Steve, the polar bear Techno adopted, grunted as he felt Technoblade move. Technoblade watched you coo at the bear and kissed the top of his fuzzy head, for someone who was so mad he adopted him. You sure acted like the bear was your new best friend, especially considering you let the bear sleep in the bed with the both of you.

"Alright, any lunch requests?"

"Anything you desire," He gently rubbed his chin against your cheek and your nose scrunched up at the feeling.

"You're prickly."

"Good or bad?"

"Well, you're hot with the stubble. So I guess a little beard is a good thing," You scratched under his chin and he purred loudly.

'We are never shaving again are we in agreement on that? Yes, obviously. Anything for her.'

"Now shoo," You ushered him towards the bathroom he slid inside with a dopey smile. He heard you call Steve over to you making sure he was just as fed like any other person in your band of misfits. Once you were officially in the kitchen was when Technoblade got a good look at himself for the first time in weeks. He was right in assuming his facial hair definitely needed at least a trim, his hair probably could use one as well now that he thought about it. He undid the bun and let his hair fall over his shoulders, at this point, it reached his mid-back. It was a bit tangled and didn't feel as soft as it usually did, he was sick of it. Technoblade picked up his trusty bathroom sword and held it in his hands, he turned the sharp blade over in his hands a few times in contemplation. Technoblade moved and placed it on the edge of the sink, he moved his hair to the front of his chest, taking the sword in another hand and slicing through his pink locks. They fluttered to the floor and his eyes drifted back over to the mirror, his hair now came down just below his shoulders. He ran his fingers through his freshly cut hair, ruffling it up just a little, he liked the new look. Technoblade tossed his loose shirt on the floor and gently removed his bandages, he didn't even bother looking at his wound, it was just another scar to add to the hundreds littering his body. However, this one he was okay acquiring, he got it protecting you, the women he loved, from Dream. He smiled softly as the smell of food wafted through the house from downstairs.

He'd never truly get used to your domesticity.

Technoblade's pants were next as he turned on the shower, he slid into the water once it warmed up to the appropriate temperature. He let the water cascade down his face, it stung his fresh wound but it felt good to finally feel clean and fresh. The shower went much faster than usual now that he didn't have all that hair to wash. After the shower he wrapped a towel around his waist, it hung low on his hips as he shook out his wet hair much like a dog. He decided to stick a little braid in his hair just so he could add a little flair, a knock sounded on the door and he met his own eyes in the mirror. The door opened with a soft creak and you were standing in the doorway with a smile. He flushed when you let out a low whistle,

"Didn't mean to disturb you, hot stuff." You winked and he gave you a sharp look to cover up his embarrassment. "What's that for? We literally have seen one another naked like a million times," You snickered your smile turning fond as you drank in his body.

"Hey. My eyes are up here Princess," He mused grabbing your chin to make you look in his eyes. Now it was your turn to flush and he smirked devilishly, "I'm glad you like what you see." You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair playing with the freshly cut ends,

"You cut your hair." You murmured still mesmerized by Technoblade's red eyes, he hummed softly staring at your beautiful features. "It looks amazing, I love it, and I love you," You spoke tenderly hands running down his chest.

"I love you too Princess," Technoblade murmured trying to ignore the roaring voices in the back of his mind. They were pleading with him to kiss her, mark her up and go feral on his wife. He took in a shaky breath and you frowned, "the voices," he let out a deep chuckle, "they love you."

SPICE

"I love them too. So listen to them and kiss me already." You yanked him close using the top of his towel, he made an embarrassing noise when his towel began to slip, he felt like praying when it stayed up by some grace of God. Your lips crashed together and he let out a breathy sigh relaxing into your blistering kiss, his hands landed on your hips and he squeezed them tightly. Technoblade nipped at your mouth, his tusks brushing against your upper lip, and you made a soft sound in the back of your throat when you felt them make contact. It made Techno and the voices preen in delight as he pushed you against the wall of your bathroom, his big hands sliding up the bottom of your shirt. He felt your hands tug at the hair by his scalp and he let out a deep groan,

'Neck. Bite her neck. Leave a mark, leave many! We don't care, do something. Please Technoblade listen to us!'

Technoblade growled under his breath as he attacked your neck, you let your head fall back against the wall. You let out a little sound of your own, and he purred deeply pleased by your reactivity.

'She'd make such a good mother.'

SPICE OVER

Technoblade's eyes snapped open and he pulled away from your neck, you let out a deep whine of protest. You reached out to him, hands falling on the back of his neck, chest heaving deeply. That thought intermixed with the wishes of the voices, you a mother? Him a father? The thought shook him to the very core no matter how much his body liked the thought.

"Bubs...?" You asked drearily, eyes blinking as you came down from your mini-high, "You okay?"

"Fine." Technoblade cleared his throat, his ears red and he refused to meet his wife's eyes, you frowned in concern.

"Too much?"

"Sorry," Technoblade murmured sheepishly and you shook your head, pinching the warrior's cheek.

"Don't apologize for that, I'm a big girl." You laughed softly kissing the tip of his nose, "I wanted to tell you lunch was ready before you rudely interrupted me."

"Eh? Rudely?" He huffed as you moved away from the wall, a teasing grin on your lips, he watched you walk away with a swing of your hips and he groaned in distress. Technoblade gathered himself together and got changed, as he came down the ladder to see you wearing a little apron and had lunch set up on the counter. His heart stopped in his chest, you were just too cute and domestic, "meat and potatoes?" He piped up sniffing the air as he sat down at the table you nodded happily.

"I know it's your favorite. I thought you deserved it after everything," You hummed softly cupping his cheek before sitting down across from him. Technoblade raised a hard eyebrow and clicked his tongue,

"It was nothing, just a flesh wound." Technoblade waved you off digging into his meal, "I meant it when I said I'd kill for you."

"I know you would, and believe me that is so hot. Even so, I'd be lost without you, so I just want to thank you." You bit your lip fiddling with the lace of your apron, "I'll never be able to repay you."

Technoblade put his fork down and huffed, "Stop talking nonsense Princess, got that? You're my wife now you don't need to repay me for anything." You looked at your lap and smiled shyly, "I love you."

"I love you more."

He scoffed with a fond eye roll but didn't argue with you, instead choosing to focus on his meal. Technoblade looked up at you as you finished up your food, with a soft hum he tilted his head to the side, "Princess?"

"What's up bubs?"

"We should do some trading in the Nether, before you say no, it's an easy enough adventure where I won't get hurt. We just wear some gold, and we'll be in and out." He watched your eyebrow twitch, "I will go with or without you. Just so you know." You flicked some potato at him which he scoffed at with an eye roll,

"Fine. We can go, but no fighting anything got that," You pointed a stern finger at him, Technoblade scoffed but agreed nonetheless. You both got adorned in your finest gold and Technoblade couldn't help but grab your neck, tilting your head upwards to swallow your lips with a kiss. You giggled softly as you both walked towards the Nether, his tail was wrapped around your waist as he glared at anything with a pulse. When you wore gold, his piglin protectiveness won over his usual aloof self. He couldn't stop glancing at the gold wedding band on your hand as you entered the portal, the piglin's heads already were paying attention to the newcomers. Techno let out a low growl underneath his breath and at least some of them seemed to get the picture, Techno split his gold bricks with you and the two of you parted. Oddly enough, Technoblade was having difficulty finding anyone to trade with him, they'd huff and tell him to get lost in piglin and that rubbed him the wrong way. He only ended up getting a few pearls and some soul sand, Technoblade moved to find his wife only to see you surrounded by a horde of his brethren. His jaw tensed as he saw you flush as a piglin desperately handed you some netherite, you thanked them softly and their squeals increased happily. They were complimenting you in piglin not that you would understand them, gushing about how pretty you were and how good you looked dripping in gold. Technoblade and the voices weren't amused. His brow furrowed as the voices demanded blood, he tried to march over but he was practically shoved out of the way when they saw him trying to get closer to you. Technoblade snarled at their advancements, his hand twitching at his sword just itching to grab at it and spill their blood, but he couldn't risk hurting you in the process.

Couldn't they smell him all over you? Did they just not care that you were his?

Before the Blade could do anything too rash you picked up your head and locked eyes with him, a beaming smile coming across your features.

"Technoblade!" You called throwing your hand in the air and waving it frantically, "Come here! They're being super kind!" The piglin's all turned their heads to face Technoblade, out of reflex his shifted into his pig form and walked over to you. This time, his brethren cleared a path for him to get through, He pulled you against his chest protectively, he buried his nose in your neck glaring at anyone who dared come close to his wife. Much to Techno's relief they all looked unhappy with the development and walked away from you, to which you pouted at, "You scared them away you big grump."

"Good I don't like them touching what's mine," he spoke calmly which caused you to flush red,

"We were just trading Tech," You spoke shyly motioning to all the valuables you collected. He nodded against your neck about to say something else but he growled deep in his throat instead and tightened his grip on your waist. A baby piglin, with a shining red eye, was holding up a gold ingot towards your person, you cooed fondly. The baby seemed unperturbed by Technoblade's looming appearance and attitude, "Hi baby! Do you want to trade?" The piglin nodded rapidly puffing out their little cheeks, your heart melted in your chest. "Tech let me go," You whined, "I wanna trade with the baby."

"No." He huffed, grumbling in his throat, "Don't want you to." The baby glared at him, stomping his little hoof, holding out the ingot higher. "Get out of here before I punt you, kid," He bared his teeth. The brave kid once more wasn't fazed instead he glared right back at Technoblade making a small snarl of his own. He had his own pair of tusks that were just starting to appear on his bottom lip and you gave a little squeal and Technoblade glared at you, "Don't coo at it!"

"He's so cute though!" You argued, finally squirming out of his hold, you knelt in front of the excited piglin, he handed you the gold ingot excitedly, you examined it carefully. Technoblade huffed at you entertaining the young piglin, you pocketed the gold and handed the piglin a poppy. His single eye widened considerably as he took the flower from your hands, you figured you'd give him something from the overworld. He looked shell shocked as he oinked happily wrapping you in a little hug, "Aw you're so welcome buddy!" You giggled fondly brushing the tufts of fur on his head, you plucked the poppy from his hands and placed it behind his ear. The piglin touched the flower lightly before scurrying down a nearby cobblestone pathway, "Bye little guy!" You called out a sad smile appearing on your face, Technoblade narrowed his eyes. He knew that look, you had the look when you'd look at the other children on the server.

"Don't even think about it."

"Think about what?" You blinked looking up at him, "do you mean- oh Jesus Technoblade I'm not going to kidnap a child."

"Or adopt it! It could be an orphan. We know how I feel about those," He pointed a finger in your direction, you rolled your eyes dramatically.

"Babe we're both orphans-"

"Sorry is that a Ghast? I can't hear you gotta fight it to protect you."

"You piece of shit." You scoffed as Technoblade picked up his bag from his last location and walked off, in the direction of said Ghast. "No fighting Ghasts! You promised!" You chased after him once you came to that realization, "Technoblade!"

Eventually, you caught up with your husband and scolded him for his recklessness, he only snickered at your mother henning. As the both of you stepped back through the portal Technoblade shifted back to his regular form, he took your hand and led you back to your little cabin. Normally Technoblade would use his trident trick to get home, but you were with him and wanted to walk by your side, considering you didn't have a trident...yet. He noticed his mailbox had footprints in front of the box, his brows furrowed, who was in his domain.

"Head inside Princess, I'll join you in a minute." Technoblade kissed your cheek softly, you gave a little nod. As Technoblade walked over to the mailbox and opened it, inside was a deep scarlet letter with a seal on the front. His nose scrunched up in distaste, he grabbed a small knife from his pocket and tore the letter open. The letter inside the envelope was a lighter shade of red, the note was from BadBoyHalo saying he had some business he'd like to discuss with himself and his wife. That immediately didn't sit right with Techno, it set off a ton of red alarms in his head. What did BadBoyHalo need to talk to you about? Technoblade kissed his teeth, he supposed this meeting would be alright so long as he was with you and could protect you and your mind from whatever the demon man was planning. What stirred him out of his thoughts was a slight movement in his bag, his entire body stilled and he slipped his bag off, tossing it into the snow. His bag squealed in distress and he pulled his sword off his body and aimed it at the bag. Technoblade must've been so distracted by you, and the letter in the mailbox, he must've missed the little movements in his bag. He gritted his teeth and snarled deeply, the first thing he noticed was bright pink piglin ears, popping out of his bag, then a bright red poppy. It was the baby piglin who had taken a liking to you earlier, his sword lowered a little bit as his eyes looked up and locked with Technoblades.

It reminded him of how Phil found Technoblade when he was a kid.

His Piglin was a bit rusty, especially his piglin for young kids but he tried his best to communicate with the young boy as he sat upon his knees. He was shivering a little not used to the drastic temperature change.

"What are you doing here kid?" He asked in rough piglin, which to anyone listening would just sound like grunts and squeals. The boy marveled at Techno and that he could speak his language it seemed,

"I want to be with the nice lady."

Technoblade furrowed his brows, a frown etching across his features, "You can't stay here." The kid didn't like that as he glared up at the taller hybrid, "You have a family in the Nether?"

"No." He huffed out with a rapid shake of his head, Technoblade inwardly cursed before picking up the Piglin by the scruff of his neck. He let out a few grunts of protest trying to attack Technoblade's hand as he dragged him into your shared home.

"(Y/n)! Get in here!" He shouted a small clip evident in his voice showing his frustration in his tone. You slid down the ladder in one fell swoop, Steve was by your side growling ferociously at the intruder in Technoblade's hands.

Good to know he could trust Steve to protect you.

"What's wrong? Where's the fire?" You already asked, ready for a fight, Technoblade almost swooned, almost. "Um...bubs is that a child?"

"It's not a child! It's the child!" He held him up higher to show off the poppy in his fur behind his ear, "Look what you did now it's attached to you!"

"Don't be mean!" You scolded your lover taking the kid from his hand, he automatically buried his head in the side of your neck. "Hey, buddy, what's going on huh?"

"He said he didn't have a family. He's attached to you now, therefore making him your problem." He watched you side-eyed him, giving him a very clear dirty look, "He doesn't have a name either." You ran your fingers through the top of the young boy's fur, rolling your lip between your bottom teeth in thought.

"Let's call him Aether." You looked over at Technoblade a teasing smile appearing on your face, "we'll build him a little secret room to keep him safe."

"Aether...Like the god of light and the sky? Isn't that ironic- wait...HEH, what do you mean his own room?" Technoblade blinked rapidly as you slid down the ladder into the basement, "Princess, get back here this conversation is not over!" He chased after you, and with a huff, Steve began to follow the both of you, too curious to just ignore the baby in your arms.

"We can re-purpose Tommy's old room! Fix it up after someone blew it up." You gushed as the piglin squealed in your arms approvingly, "we'll decorate it just how you like it, I'll even paint the walls."

"He's NOT our son (Y/N)-"

"Maybe not our son but he's MY son."

Why did that make Technoblade feel a million times worse? Is this how Phil's wife felt when she was alive when Phil tried to take him in from the Nether.

"I'm not leaving him to fend for himself, especially because he sought us out," You whispered tenderly, "It doesn't sit right with me Tech...please." Technoblade watched you look up at him through big sad eyes, "you don't have to be a parental figure if you don't want to, I won't force that role on you. But I want to take care of Aether, least till he's old enough to officially fend for himself."

Technoblade chose not to correct you that he was already capable of fighting his own battles.

"Fine." He relented with a loud sigh, "just don't get him killed. I don't want to deal with you being upset over a dumb orphan."

"Not dumb." You huffed nudging him in the side, "but thank you." He felt your lips brush the corner of his mouth and he visibly relaxed. "I promise I won't bother you with him either, he'll be my responsibility." You assured Aether grunted in your hold almost like he was in agreement with that plan. Technoblade glared at the child and huffed,

"He better not be," Technoblade said as if to promise himself that he would not get attached to the piglin in your arms that looked so much like your son it filled him with warmth. Steam exited his nose in frustration, and you gave him a gentle pat on the cheek, "I'll talk to Phil about getting him some warmer clothes, but that doesn't mean I like him." The smile on your face was almost worth discussing this child with Phil, but only almost, you gently placed Aether on a spare bed by Bob.

"For now," You ruffled his pink fur "You'll stay down here. If you need anything just call me okay? We'll get you a walkie-talkie you can decorate with some stickers." Technoblade groaned from behind you, he had to gather materials for another radio, for a baby. Aether nodded excitedly and snuggled against the soft covers of the bed, you kissed the top of his eye socket. Steve nuzzled Aether's hand and he gently rubbed the top of the polar bear's head, Steve seemed to dub the Piglin acceptable and rested his face on the edge of his bed. "Good boy Steve, watch out for my boy." You headed back up the ladder Technoblade followed behind you wearily, Phil was going to make fun of him for this, the old man was going to call him soft.

Marriage has made him soft and a shameful part of him liked that feeling of domesticity. He swallowed thickly glancing over at your bright smile, you turned towards him and figured the letter in his pocket could wait a few more days.

"I'm going to send a letter to Phil, so he can grab clothes for the orphan on his way back." Technoblade sighed softly rubbing the bridge of his nose, which caused the smile to slip off of your face.

'Apologize to her right now. It's a kid how hard can it really be? You can handle it, he makes her happy. But it's an orphan and it smells. Yeah, like the Nether and smoke. So does Technoblade.'

He huffed at the voices mentally flipping them off, before lifting his hand and placing it on the top of your head. He watched you look up at him through long lashes and (e/c) eyes, "I guess it's not that big of a deal you nerd. So don't get all frowny at me, okay? We'll keep the kid safe." The smile reappeared and he let out a sigh of relief he didn't realize he was holding in,

"You do care," you cooed fondly and his heart squeezed in his chest. "You're gonna be Aether's dad just you wait."

"Yeah, maybe when pigs fly."

"Tech-"

"Don't say anything," his face turned red, "you know what I meant." You giggled and kissed his cheek, he walked over to the window and sent a crow out for Phil. He jolted feeling your hands on his back running up and down, you slid in front of him.

"Thank you, for all you do for me." Your soft lips traveled across his cheek and onto his lips, "Let me repay you." He felt the tips of your fingers grab at his chin, his eyes dropped closed, tail wrapping around your waist to pull you flush.

"Oh?"

"Hmhm," You purred out as you pressed your foreheads together, you both screamed however when a loud slam sounded against the door. It was thrown open moments after Phil was standing in the doorway, wings ruffled and crows screaming behind him.

"What the FUCK do you mean you have a child! (Y/n) was pregnant?! Since when?! What the fuck!"

"Miscommunication!" Technoblade shouted flush coming across his face, "The crows twisted my words! Last time I rely on them to relay a message!" You burst into hysterical laughter falling against Technoblade's chest,

"This is not funny!" Both Phil and Technoblade said simultaneously, both equally confused and flustered. Phil got here so fast it was ridiculous and judging by the bag on his back he came fully prepared with clothing and all.

"I adopted a piglin from the Nether, he hid in my stuff, you thought I was pregnant?" You were cackling holding your stomach, "Phil what the fuck!"

"What?" He sputtered flabbergasted, "it's not like you both aren't fucking! You smell like him constantly, you can't blame me for jumping to conclusions."

"You saw me yesterday! You have a son!"

"Shut the fuck up! I panicked!" Phil threw the bag at you and you caught it in your arms, still snickering. Meanwhile, Technoblade was still recovering from Phil's scare, "I just...got some of Wilbur's old clothes. Some old toys as well, whatever I could find."

"Thank you, grandpa," You teased to which he turned slightly red, Technoblade glared in your direction.

"He's not grandpa."

"I can be," Phil added raising his finger in the air, Technoblade gaped at him,

"Don't encourage her!" You laughed tossing the bag in Technoblade's general direction, his fast reflexes allowed him to catch the bag. "What are you expecting me to do with this?"

"Go give it to him," He watched you smirk and wanted to wrap his hands around your neck. "You both need to bond,"

"You said earlier I didn't have to!"

"I lied." You bared your teeth in a big smile, chills went down his spine staring at your face, "You have to at least get along with Aether. Plus, Phil and I need to talk."

"We do?"

"We do."

"I'm being lied to." Technoblade growled, "I can't believe this betrayal. Let's all lie to Technoblade, I'm such a victim, having to tend to an orphan my wife adopted." You flipped Technoblade off as he slid down the ladder into the basement. Aether was still asleep on the bed when he came down, the bag across his shoulder felt heavy as nervousness seeped into his skin.

He literally killed people and blew up an entire nation, why was this child making him nervous.

'Throw the bag at it. Have it fend for itself. Don't do that (Y/n) will be upset with you! So, not my problem. It will be our problem if Technoblade gets divorced! DIVORCED?! SHE'D NEVER! E. But she could, do we really want to deal with that. That's a lot of work to clean up.'

The bed shifted, stirring Technoblade out of his racing thoughts, he swallowed thickly before taking a deep breath.

"Hey, kid, wake up." Technoblade gruffly scoffed, tossing the bag on the bed and kissing his teeth. The piglin made a distressed noise jolting up in the bed and pulling the covers over his little body. "Calm down it's just me, Technoblade," He spoke back in Piglin to the child who seemed to ease up a little bit. "(Y/n) and Phil got you some stuff so open the bag and check so I can leave."

Aether eyed him wearily as he opened the soft yellow bag, he began to pull the items out with slight awe. Despite his tough exterior, Technoblade was oddly curious as he walked a bit closer to look inside the bag. Aether pulled out a soft yellow and black striped sweater and rubbed it against his cheeks, it seemed to be amazed at the softness of the material. Technoblade couldn't help but laugh a little, once again he thought of the first time he was introduced to the same material. A pair of overalls was next, they were covered in colorful patches and Aether's eyes lit up excitedly. He watched him scramble back into the bag as a few more things were pulled out, like a coloring book, a few colorful pens, an old busted walkie-talkie, and a small stuffed crow. Phil just had to shove that in there, he couldn't believe that the old man's first thought when he thought (y/n) was having a baby was to find a little stuffed crow, biased little shit.

"Thank you," Aether spoke softly in Piglin towards Technoblade, he blinked a little rapidly.

"Thank your grandpa Phil," Technoblade grunted before coughing, "No not grandpa-"

"Grandpa!" He beamed brightly, his little tail wagging rapidly behind him, Technoblade rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Just go get changed kid," He grumbled, "So you can show (Y/n)." Aether slid off the bed, sweater, and clothes in hand and stumbled into a nearby bathroom. He came out a few moments later clad in his new outfit, in the meantime, Technoblade sat on the edge of his bed. Aether did a little twirl placing his hands on his hips, Techno held out a weak thumbs up and he seemed satisfied with that answer. Aether flopped back on the bed next to Technoblade and leaned against the pillows, an awkward silence stretched between the both of them. "Anyway...I guess I'll head back upstairs." Technoblade raised his hand and motioned to the ladder, his body tensed and it took all his willpower not to kick the child across the room as his instincts screamed at him to do. He blinked a few times and noticed Aether grabbed at his hands in order to get a closer look at the gold adorning his fingers. Aether began to run his hands over his gold rings,

ah, that made more sense.

"You like my rings?" Technoblade questioned watching him nod eagerly as he wiggled his fingers, "yeah I like 'em too. Got some for my Princess too, that's (Y/n)."

"Princess?"

"Hmhm, she looks beautiful in them," Technoblade hummed softly, an adoring look appearing on his face. Aether looked like he was holding onto every word, "We treat (Y/n) with respect she deserves understand? I see you messing with her. I mess with you back, got that kid?" Aether nodded,

"Same to you."

Technoblade barked out a small laugh and ruffled the fluff on top of Aether's head, "Off to a good start kid." Aether smiled shyly before going back to examining his jewelry, Technoblade shifted to get a little more comfortable as Aether settled in his lap. He continued to examine and twirl Technoblade's rings around until he glanced up and caught sight of his golden crown on top of his head. He desperately reached up for it and Technoblad leaned away from his grubby little hands, "Sorry, the crowns off-limits kids." Aether huffed puffing out his cheeks and Technoblade grumbled reluctantly placing the crown on his head, it was far too big for his little skull as it slipped past his forehead. He made some happy sounds and readjusted the crown, he leaned back against Technoblade relishing in not only the gold but also the attention.

Technoblade huffed out a laugh, maybe having a kid around wouldn't be so bad after all.

He looked back down at Aether and noticed the kid was asleep on his chest, his body locked up completely frozen in terror. Now, what was he going to do? He was trapped underneath a sleeping child, he awkwardly tried to maneuver Aether off himself but the kid had a strong grip on his chest. Technoblade cursed under his breath and figured he might as well get comfortable if he was trapped, he felt warm beneath the piglin and eventually drifted off to light sleep.

Philza and you quietly descended the ladder down into the basement, Technoblade hadn't come back up and the both of you were growing suspicious. You had to cover your mouth to stop an excited squeal from leaving your mouth, both your boys were cuddling on the bed, Technoblade's crown was slipping off Aether's head. You looked excitedly over at Phil whose face was soft and fond,

"Go on, take a picture." Phil glanced over at you motioning to the boys in bed before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a disposable camera.

"Thanks, Phil," You whispered snapping a quick picture of the bed, the click of the camera caused Technoblade's ears to twitch. The photograph came spitting out of the camera and you shook it waiting for it to develop, you were so hanging this picture up where everyone could see it. From across the room Technoblade's eyes cracked open, Phil nudged you forward,

"I'll head out, go spend time with your family." He ruffled the top of your head and flew up the ladder swiftly,

"Hm...was that Phil?" Technoblade grumbled under his breath, voice still deep with the hint of sleep.

"Yeah bubs," You whispered tenderly walking over to the edge of the bed, "he figured it was time to head out." You brushed strands of pink hair out of his eyes and he leaned into your touch, "make some room big guy." With an annoyed grumble, Technoblade moved over so you could lay down beside him and Aether, you gently brushed your thumb across the fur on the baby's cheeks. Just like your big warrior husband he snuggled against your hand. "So, I take it he's grown on you?"

"Shut up and go to sleep." Technoblade grumbled reaching over Aether to rest his big hand on your head, "hm tired." He closed his eyes and ignored your giggles, you pulled the blankets over the three of you and you drifted off into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile, underneath L'manburg the egg began to breathe and pulsate with life, it yearned to have the couple once again in the palm of its hand just like it did decades prior. Sir Billiam and Lady (Y/n) were their names if it remembered correctly, they'd follow in the eggs wishes again, that it knew for certain. Meeting them again was going to be fun.

~~~

@iamsuchasimp @victory-is-here @pastelmoonwitche @ignat1usaquar1us @v10dw4lk3r

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kkusuka · 4 years ago

Text

(i had to repost lol- it wasn’t showing up on my page)

this the request: part 3 of thiccy gf hcs ??? with kuroo, terushima, sakusa, and daichi and/or atsumu 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 i must be fed

i understand your need for them

and as a member of the thunder-thigh committee, i am happy to write about my fellow sexy women! (another 4:56 am ramble i refuse to delete)

part one

part 2 <3

i mixed this with this ask ; Pt. 3 of the thicc af gf with Aone, Osamu, Kyotani, Daichi, Kuguri, and Terushima plz? 🥺

this got wayyyyyyyyy long

4, 685 words. my finger slipped?

Kuroo tetsuro

this guy has been trying to get you since first year

he’s that dedicated

and you didn’t even notice, he was just a flirty friend who helped you with science

(even when he would practically put you in his lap while he went over things)

lo and behold, he finally got his chance during the third year culture festival

yeah as in he waited a whole three years for this

Eh, once again, had a whole pan to make you see him as your great future husband, aka the haunted house (a good excuse to have you hold onto him)

He has to give it to class 2-4, the did a damn good job, it was scary

Long story short you fell on top of him, boobs in face hands-on ass

~heaven~

Mans actually asked you to be his girlfriend right there, groping you and murmuring between your boobs. (he wouldn't have gotten up if the next group wasn’t approaching.)

From then on he’d literally do anything for the ass

He’s a big simp and we all know it.

Like When you wear shorts he has to ‘pull them down’ aka feel you up while pulling the hem of your shorts down ever so slightly.

Or when he gets on a knee right behind you to ‘tie his shoe’, but the school shoes have no laces.

He could be a bit more creative and he wanted to look under your skirt.

When he wants to cut the bull shit he’ll just lift the back of your skirt and rub around for a but, to hell with all the other kids in the hallway.

(did I mention that he puts things on the highest shelves so he can walk up behind you and practically dry hump you.)

Speaking of simp nation

You can't really wear anything without setting him off

Shorts drive him absolutely nuts, it's insane. But it isn't his fault that most of your shorts are spandex that cut off right at the beginning of your thighs, it's like a homemade booty lifter. He just can’t help but wanting to cop a feel.

Or the color red in general. It is ridiculous, the guy rips everything when he tries to take it off too. So that stunning red cocktail dress with the lace-up sides was not unwearable, and you only had it on for like 2 hours. And that was only because it was a friend's 18th birthday party you were both invited to.

(thanks to kuroo not letting you out of his arms you both were late and left early.)

((in his defense you looked like a full course meal and it was giving him severe blue balls, and he’s only seen you for a few minutes))

Halloween, you know. the one night you could dress up as anything. any you decide to go as a cat-girl in a maid costume. And you expected him to just take that sitting down? Hell no. the red thigh highs AND the corset middle? You're lucky it lasted as long as it did.

That my dear was bravery. His color. A cat. And a short skirt. With thigh highs!

And so, he did what he did all those other times, dragged you to sit on his lap, and opening your thighs, and like a good girl you’ll let him

If you could already tell, he gives no shits to whos watching, let ‘em see (they really never do but you get the point)

He’s also a prime thigh groper, especially when he wants to keep your legs open, he also loves thigh hic

Terushima Yuji

Another shower-offer

You were already he's so why can't he let everyone know?

Speaking of you being his, he doesn't tell people how you guys don’t together, with good reason considering you practically beat him up

Not really but that’s what he calls it, basically he tried to get with one of your friends at a party.

She just happens to not be interested in men and has a wonderful girlfriend, so she was uncomfortable but couldn't tell him to leave her alone

So you took fate into your own hands, literally, you stole Fate from class 3-2’s drink and poured it on him before slapping him and telling him about how he was a pig.

And he fell in love, you looked like an angel, a really hot angel, it didn't help you were in a white dress either

And from then on he literally once or twice, got on his knees for you, asking to give him a chance.

Honestly, it got annoying, so you just agreed to make it go away. It did, but you also gained a perv of a boyfriend who has an insatiable love for your lower half

He’s a simple creature, do take caution of his fragile being

So that means all those times you bend over in front of him he was slowly cracking and trying to figure out where the nearest storage closet is.

He thought he was having heart palpitations when he saw you in the damn dress again, apparently, he didn't see all of it. Specifically the v-neck top, and the fact it only went to the end of your ass. Needless to say, he made sure to walk behind you on every staircase that you went on

Another set off is yoga legging, like the lululemon ones, that people wear all the time. They fit you great, really really great. They were supposed to work out in them???? Why were they so skin-tight????? And he also figured out that you wore things because of them. Instant nut.

How you ask, simple.

One time he saw your underwear line through the pants and he pointed them out, they did make it seem like your ass was super soft so he saw his chance and took it.

So the next time you wore them and he didn't see the lines he was like ??????

And thus began the “Yuji hunt for lineless underwear” and he found the thongs

And you received the fucking of your life soon after.

Oh! And there’s any time you go to the beach. Literally every time.

No cap.

The first time was when you wore a red one-piece and he practically went feral. It wasn't really a one-piece if it was see-through and had the lowest neckline on the planet.

Everyone was looking at you.

He practically fucked you on the beach but held off until you got back to the hotel room.

He’s way more forward when he wants to fuck, if you could imagine. He’ll just walk up to you and tell you he wants to get some, like right now.

If you can even ignore him, he’ll throw an arm around your waist and grope around your legs, all the way to the apex.

It is also not below him to try and get you off while still wearing underwear that he will be taking after.

(i didn't say anything about his stash off orgasm ruined underwear? My bad.)

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Going beyond the fact he even has a girlfriend, y’know considering, but the fact that no one knew who you were until you showed up at nationals to cheer him on

(atsumu was even starting to think that you didn't exist and that poor kiyoomi just imagined you up, so can imagine his shock when you ran up to said boy after they won)

The whole dating thing wasn't the shocking part; it was the fact that you looked like you walked off of the Milan runway.

And you were wearing leggings and sakusa's jacket, all of a sudden everyone was interested in how that happened

It was a kind of a boring story, someone had spilled coffee in a shop that you both happen to be in

And he watched you offer the man the same disinfectant wipes that he uses!

And in the most sakusa way possible he followed you out of the shop and tried to talk to you.

An exchange of numbers and many awkward conversations (and boners) later, you were a couple.

Back to that hug, like the many others, he's let you have, it’s all just to feel how soft you were

But poor touch -starved sakusa doesn't know what to do with any of these pent up feelings.

And he has a loooooooot of them.

Multiple occasions have shaped the poor germ-boy into the horny-tornado he has become

so he’s not really into what you’re wearing, it’s more about what you’re doing

like when you wore the mask he bought you to one of his games, and you wore one of his alternate uniforms, but the kicker was how you stayed away from everyone and didn’t let a single person near you (or his shirt)

or when you helped him clean his dorm when he was doing his weekly deep clean

or when the two of you washed the dishes while trying to do one of those “try not to sing” challenges

(is it normal to get a boner when your girlfriend helps you clean? no?)

but, as much as he tries to remain emotionless on the subject, there are multiple exceptions to the “it’s not what she wears” whole thing

Like that violet puffy skirt, you wore to a study fate, the one with the white sweater? That one, the same one that he could see your panties, from anywhere he sat. and Every time you got up you would have to smooth it down to make the creases go down, but it was only ever really giving him a good idea about the shape of your ass.

(if he sees you in that skirt again he’s just going to fuck you in it)

The lesser-known horny-inducer, since he made you take it off within the first five minutes, was a dress! What kind of dress? A neon yellow see-through mesh dress. The bottom wasn’t what got him though, it was the fact that your white bra was clearly seen under the mesh top. Or maybe it was the way the skirt made your waist look super small, and how your hips looked so round and squeezable.

Yeah, no one else could experience you in that.

Not to sound like this, but sakusa is still averse to touch

BUT BUT BUT

That goes out the window when he wants to dance the devil's tango with you.

Mr. His way or no way shows up, he does it every so slightly different

If it’s just the two of you, he’ll put a hand on your shoulder and he’ll push you to your knees. And he’ll pet your head and tell you what’s about to happen and advise you to listen like a good girl.

But in the instance you are in the presence of others, he’ll stand behind you and bring you super close to him, ass to dick. (maybe he’ll grind into you a bit, just to convince you to follow him) and he’ll throw a few words in about how much of a bitch in heat you are for getting turned on in front of all of these people.

It’s best to just do what he wants before he makes you cum in your underwear.

Daichi Sawamura

oh my

you guys are the power thigh couple

powerful and defined mixed with soft and pillowy

In Fact, that’s literally how the two of you met, thanks to Tanaka and Nishinoya of course.

(let’s just pretend karasuno has a cheer squad, and you just happened to be the captain of said team)

So basically you were doing a favor for the student council, and you were supposed to ask how many third years, managers included, were on each team and each club in the school

Easy! Turns out not so much. You were still in your cheer practice uniform, which was the shortest spandex ever made, and a Karasuno school t-shirt that was ever so slightly too tight.

Anyway, you make it to the gym and open the door, and the little one, Yachi, saw you and literally screamed. (she was right by the door), and that alerted everyone else in the gym, which led to the bald boy and his short companion pushing you further into the gym.

But in the better sense, it did gain the attention of the captain! Just the exact moment he was in front of you someone pushed; your back and within a second, in some miracle like way, you both ended up on the floor and he ended up planked on top of you with a leg between your spread thighs.

Almost kissing nonetheless.

Then, like the gentleman he was, he got off and asked you if you alright and kneeled down and let you use his shoulder to try and stand back up.

You did get up, for a split second, Daichi still kneeling letting you use him as a step stool when a certain red-head was flung right into you and you went toppling forward.

Onto Daichi.

Onto Daichi's face.

Your thighs around his head.

His hands-on your ass.

Hand in his hair.

He could sit there forever, you were frozen, everyone else was frozen.

You eventually climbed off and asked how many third years there were. But he just sat there, his hands hadn’t moved either, luckily Suga answered and you were on your way.

And Daichi still didn’t move, after that incident, you had begun to see him everywhere, and eventually, he just cut the shit and asked you out.

Daddy Daichi likes seeing you in literally anything from sweatshirts to lingerie.

His favorite was the brown buttoned pencil skirt and the white blouse, that you wore to a date. You were kind of overdressed for the ramen shop and after a walk, but he didn't even care. He was so thrown off by how turned on he was he couldn't speak in full sentences.

An example:

“Yeah, the food here is- boob, I-I mean great, not boob, great, yes, great.”

The second.

Was a bathrobe.

Can you see where I'm going with that? Simply you look hot.

His favorite part of the night was ripping it off of you.

And like the first time you met, he had his head in your thighs <3

Atsumu Miya

You met poor atsumu at a party.

He tried to shoot his shot, y’know he sees a cute lady he’s just gotta try and show you what you could be getting

he had it all planned, he was going to walk up behind you and run his hands over your delicious curves and ask you if you were in need of any help

he doesn’t take into account that a having a random guy just start groping you and pressing himself behind a girl was panic-inducing

so when he dropped your waist, you freaked out and may or may not have punched him in the dick

while he was in a. world of pain you age to figure out what the hell had just happened to you

then you noticed him on the floor, and when he noticed you looking at him he put this forced cocky smirk on and gave you a “how you doing”

You took pity on the poor creature and helped him up and got him some ice, then conversed with him for the majority of the rest of the night.

And he just hasn't left you alone since

(and, you learned this far later, that he went so far to tell Sakusa and Kageyama all about you and how amazing you are, and has even sent them- more than one- picture

But in other news, he’s very horny

So really all that means is he always has his hands on you

Like during practice breaks when you're allowed to come down and talk to him for a bit, give him some things, but it normally just consists of him sitting on the bench and you standing in front of him.

While his hands rest on your hips and his face is shoved into the valley between your breasts, and he just sits and listens to you as you brush a hand through his hair.

Or sometimes, if he had been having a rough time, he’ll just have his hands under your skirt and he’ll feel around for a bit while grumbling about how people cant hit his sets

But for being the possessive bastard he is, he sure likes letting you wear all those outfits

Like the booty shorts and tank top, you wore to bring them food during the summer training camp. That same camp that the two of you disappeared at and he came back looking like he had won the lottery.

Or the cute little red dress you wore to your anniversary date? The one that made him have a hard-on the entire time you were at dinner. He knows the waiter remembers, he also bets the waiter remembers seeing him fucking you in the car when his shift was over.

And that time you wore his jersey to bed and sent him a picture of it. It was such a good picture that he made it his lock screen for everyone to see.

He just likes looking at you tbh.

Aone Takanobu

you guys didn’t meet in some weird perverted way, it was actually really cute!

Not to sound creepy but he knew that you were in the garden club because you sat right in front of him in class

And since he didn't talk to anyone else in that class he was just content with listening, and so there he was

Standing outside of the garden club door holding his withering basil plant. Lost.

Lucky for him you were walking down the hallway and greeted him, looking all pretty and cute

You did help him realize that he was overwatering the basil and within a few weeks, it was back to life!

From that first time on, he came to the club room with you twice a week and walked home with you, just listening to all the random plant facts that you had harbored in your mind.

Eventually, with the help of the team, he asked you out, and you hugged him and said yes, and that was the beginning of the “oh god, y/n is way softer than I thought”

So he really just tries to be near you or be touching you at all times

(i am also a firm believer that he likes to slow dance to classical music in your living room)

Like during lunch periods when you sit next to him and the second you finish eating hell push you to lean against him

And he’ll rub small circles on your hips and give you small innocent gropes

Or how he hugs your waist when you're doing literally anything, and he puts his head on top of your head while swaying

I can also tell you that Aone is a good singer

So he hums to you (I'm uwuing over my own headcanon lol)

He also really likes just running his hands along your body, so he likes when you wear the one-piece dresses so he has smooth sailing down your body

As a man of little words, he clearly has a more physical approach to getting you on the horny train

What I am trying to get at is that more often than not he literally just picks you up and carries you away.

Of course, that leaves you to come back to whatever you were doing.

That is after the cuddles and after sex ‘conversations’ about the dumbest things

Basically, he likes to hear you talk and he really likes being near.

Osamu Miya

He knew who you were

With a brother like atsumu, who never shuts up about you, it's hard not to

(Osamu is pretty sure atsumu had a picture of you next to his pillow. ew)

Anyway, the two of you just happened to share the same lunch block, and it also just happens to be the only period block that he was alone

No teammates and no especially close that he could hang out with

That meant he could either study or eat

Had he chose to eat, only to be met with the fact that atsumu had drained both of their lunch accounts for his flavor of the week

Poor baby stood there for a while just processing what was the worst news of his life

When you, a true angel among the evil, said that you would graciously pay for his food so that he didn't outlook so sad anymore

If he wasn’t holding an armful of onigiri he would have fallen on his knees and begged to whatever god was out there to let him keep you

But he settled for thanking you and spending the entire period with you, he even offered to share (for the first time in his life)

You complimented him on his flavor choice and he decided to keep you

He made sure to share his recipes with you and you tried to do the same

And somehow that evolved into you guys going on dates, much to atsumu’s distaste, and you guys were totally hitting it off

Osamu was your official biggest fan, he loved everything you do

But that means he wants to stay your biggest fan, and he knows that you’re pretty well known for boys thinking not so innocent things about you

Again being brothers with atsumu gave him this little sadistic streak

He lets you wear all of the revealing outfits and the bikinis, all for everyone to see

Everyone to see what belongs to him

Like at suna’s party he let you wear a black mini-skirt and a white off the shoulder long sleeved flowy shirt.

You looked good, and all the guys staring at you proved that point tenfold. Three guys had come up to you and tried to get you to go upstairs with them. And it was almost immediately shut down when they noticed the act you were sitting on your boyfriend.

Speaking of, he almost always has you in his lap.

Aww, cute! Not, he like grinding you down on him, that's also why he likes having you wear skirts, easy access to your ass, also a nice way to ensure that he could get more than a few gropes in when he wants

No, it's definitely the way he made you wear thigh highs to school one day and the shortest skirt you owned (like a school skirt) and walked behind you the entire day.

And he just reached behind you and lifted your skirt for the whole hallway to see, but mostly for him

He waists no time when he wants to fuck, he’ll just walk up to and open your legs while making out with either you or your neck.

And yes he has done that in front of atsumu

Who was warned to stay out of their room for a while.

Not to mention all those times he convince you to go to school with no underwear on just for the fun of it

(I didn't tell you this but those off the shoulder mini dresses drive him wild. On graduation day he pulled into a closet and had his way with you. I mean he did say that if you wore that dress he was going to do it, buuuuuut y’know….. yolo)

Kyotani Kentaro

We all know he’s a fighter, which means he gets hurt a lot, which in turn makes him a frequent face in the nurse's office

And who happens to be the nurse's niece? You of course!

And right after school, when your aunt takes her break and leaves you to take care of the office alone

Right after school is also when Kyotani always comes in.

(it’s not like he knew that you would be there alone, and that meant that you had to deal with him and heal him up. And it also is not like he started the fight so he could come here and see you. No not that)

Who am I kidding it was like that.

It was totally like that.

Your hands were just so soft when they put the bandages on and you have to bend down to get the wrapping.

He had a crush, that's what iwaizumi said, and after googling what the symptoms of a crush were he was sure

So with the help of the third years, aka Oikawa just having Iwaizumi repeat what he wanted to say, they had a plan

And the next time he was in the office he asked if you wanted to see a movie with him, it was so cute and he looked so shy

It would have been perfect if after five seconds he tried to take it back, you still went on the date with him though

He was happy.

Angry boy likes hugs

And yes he does, no objections

So when he’s upset he’ll make these grabby hands at you and have you come over and stand with him

He shoves his chin on your shoulder and his hands squeezing your waist and you’ll rock back and forth until he calms down.

He’s also very aware of what you wear

Like how your skirt perfectly frames your legs. How the socks you wear make your legs look 10x longer, and make you look like you’re walking like a model.

Or the dark blue leggings you wore with his alternate jersey and you were cheering for him!

But nothing and I mean NOTHING gets him better than when you wear spandex shorts and one of his shirts. He goes feral every time.

This man is the CEO of picking you up and placing you on his lap, straddle style, and just going ham on you

Not to mention that sometimes when he’s really tired he’ll have you just sitting on his lap while he plays with your thighs

(he also likes playing with your waist and stomach, but he doesn't realize that he’s talking out loud so you can hear all of the “so soft”’s he lets out.

Kuguri

You were one of Mika's close friends so you were always just kind of around

It was a little get together that Daishou threw that really made you two close

It was a weird drinking game of sorts, and it had these teams, and you were out as a pair!

Somehow throughout the game, you guys got side-tracked and just ended up talking to each other the rest of the night

Eventually, you were convinced to go on a double date and the rest was history

He didn't even pay attention to what you wore that much until he heard a few rando kids in the locker room talking about it.

And that’s when he started thinking about just who he was dating

He first realized how round your ass was. Is it normal to look that good in leggings? No one else has ever looked that good to him. With that came his obsession with just touching your butt. He just grabs it or he’ll stop you from walking and palm it. Or he’ll rub circles into it.

(it's cute how intrigued he is by your butt)

Then came his obsession with your thighs. Mostly the way that they spread out when you sit. He didn't even understand why they were just so mesmerizing. They were so squishy too. He likes how they look in his hands-

Lastly was the waist thing. You aren't even sure what it is. He just likes putting his hands on your waist. Like a prom picture. Sometimes he’ll squeeze or run his hands along your sides. But he’s mostly stationary.

He also has this habit of just opening your legs and laying on your stomach.

He is just so into how soft you are.

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ootahime · 3 years ago

Text

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga >:) pt. 3

more and more paragraphs ahead. BE PREPARED!

i’m also writing this at 3 am so please bear with the horrendous grammar and punctuation.

chapter 63

i know he’s probably like this with everyone but i love how excited he is bragging about his students to her. he’s like a child telling his mother about an amazing adventure he had with his friends, making sure he mentions every detail. in the anime, their conversation lasted for 3:41 :3 backwards 341 is 143 which means i love you.

1 letter = i

4 letters = love

3 letters = you

chapter 63

i love her fit! i also like how both of them like to wear baggy clothing that accentuates their collarbones `w` it’s like they’re matching in a way. even if she did tell him to cut the crap, she still let him run his mouth to his content LOL i feel like if he didn’t compliment himself at the end, she would have said something different. UGH HE LOOKS SO HAPPY CALLING HER

ah, let me translate the conversation just in case anyone needs it.

utahime: you wanted to talk about the investigation, right?

gojo: well, got any idea who?

utahime: i have no idea. no one seems suspicious. what do we do now? should we ask the students for help?

gojo: yeah, that’s fine. i’m busy so asking the kids would be okay. keep looking. i’m counting on you.

I THINK THAT’S WHAT THEY’RE TRYING TO SAY.

OR it could mean that she’s asking if they should start investigating the students. it would make sense either way because gojo says in the next panel that he doesn’t want to assume that the mole is a student, and in chapter 79, gojo sends the trio to utahime to help her.

chapter 63

these two love their students to death. neither of them wanted to assume that the mole was a student. in chapter 79, when utahime is talking to the trio about the mole, nobara points out to the group that the traitor must be from kyoto because utahime is the one who’s reaching out to the tokyo side. utahime has a dismal look on her face, almost like she’s saying, “i didn’t want it to turn out this way -- for this to be true.” after mechamaru says his farewells to miwa on the train, mai tries to talk about what he did to which utahime says, “it doesn’t matter, he’s dead, after all,” with a similar sunken expression. i just love how her care for the students is one of the biggest aspects of her personality that’s been showcased so far. it’s also cool how it ties together with gojo’s belief that no child’s youth should be taken away. i truly think these two have the capacity to understand each other to a deep level, down to the core. seeing as utahime is also a teacher, it’s safe to assume that she also wants to raise the next generation of sorcerers to be strong. utahime and gojo’s similarities and contrasting elements are so interwined, i really wonder if it’s intentional. like am i looking too much into this? are utahime and gojo really meant to be this connected? think about it. similar motivations, care of the kids, contrasting palettes, the bickering, long history. IT’S JUST TOO MUCH.

also can we mention how their phone calls and meetings must be heavily planned out? this means they’ve talked and interacted with each other A LOT behind the scenes. she doesn’t answer his call with “what do you want? don’t bother me on my day off.” she knows exactly why he’s calling her and they even speak in code. she probably meets up with him and tells him to call her on a specific day and at a specific time. they must know each other’s schedules very well in order to execute this investigation in complete secrecy. when he says, “we can never be too sure who is listening in around utahime” it implies that they find calling a risk, so in order to guarantee that there is no one around, they have to meet up in person. see where i’m getting at? they talk A LOTTT and most likely are aware of each other’s daily lives.

the fact that gojo is her main source of stress when he’s literally a 3 hour train ride away from her is hilarious LMAOOOO. you know what that means, right? he must call and text her constantly about random things to annoy her.

chapter 65

ah yes, my favorite moment by far. look at that smile on his face.

chapter 65

he loves saying her name. he probably rushed over with the sole purpose of doing something like this to her LMAOOOO like i mean, mei was in there with her so technically they both needed to be helped but judging from his words and expression, he only wanted to help utahime. notice how mei’s not there in the debris. could she possibly have suspected gojo’s presence or an outside force? or was she fast enough to avoid being in the debris? either way, her lack of presence in this scene helps highlight the fact that this is a special interaction between utahime and gojo. he refers to her in a very familiar sense. the most formal way to address someone is by their last name followed by the honorific, -san. in gojo’s case, he should be calling her iori-san if they weren’t acquainted. he doesn’t even bother to call her utahime-senpai. granted, gojo is not the most respectful and socially competent person out there because geto points this out to him. he isn’t even aware that she finds him annoying because he views her bad attitude toward him as her just playing along with him. he probably thinks she’s flirting back LOLOL

since he asks her “you cryin?” that definitely means that gojo witnessed her crying on one occasion or maybe multiple. who knows, the old utahime could have been a very emotional person. while this is happening, mei is close to gojo, she then asks him if he would console her if she were to cry in a flirtatious manner. gojo dismisses her attempt at flirting with him and says she won’t cry because she’s strong. now normally, you’re supposed to face the person you’re talking to, GOJO. he KEEPS his eyes on her even when more people come to join the conversation.

now, we can all agree that geto, mei, and shoko are better at picking up social cues than gojo. they probably knew the vibe of the conversation and decided to play along with gojo’s antics.

chapter 65

WE were worried about you.

pay attention to the order of the characters that show up. gojo makes his appearance first, then geto, followed by shoko. based on utahime’s reaction to seeing shoko, it’s evident that these two share a close bond. shouldn’t shoko be the one to arrive on the scene first? she’s the closest to utahime and would therefore be more concerned about her condition, right? i know shoko’s technique doesn’t really allow her to do anything other than treat the wounds of others, but if you heard your friend was missing, you would definitely rush to the scene.

look at geto’s reaction when mei says, “you’re the one who’s picking on her, geto. you don’t even know it.” i think it’s mei who’s saying this because gojo calls geto “suguru”. but anyway, mei is aware that they’re picking on her. i don’t think she’s the type to legitimately bully someone for their strength. her reaction to all of this is very playful and her “heh heh heh” is proof of that. when geto shows up and swallows the curse before it gets to utahime, he says, “satoru. it’s not nice to pick on the weak.” by saying this, he pisses utahime off because he too, is joining in on gojo’s joke. i believe he’s unaware that he’s making fun of utahime because his reaction is “gah!” with a sweatdrop. he probably thought gojo was making fun of weak people in general.

geto’s usually a gentleman seeing as it is canon that he is more popular with girls than gojo. BUT WHO KNOWS...you gotta be a specific type of person to be best friends with gojo. maybe he ain’t shit too... okay, my point is that everyone is just playing along. when shoko shows up, utahime is relieved to see her because shoko doesn’t tease her like this. since utahime tells shoko to not become like those two, this implies that geto teases her as well (probably not as much as gojo). we all know geto is really big on looking out for the weak so he probably wouldn’t have insulted her for real.

verdict: utahime being weak is just a joke. i’ve mentioned this so many times, sorry if it’s getting annoying and repetitive hehehehehe...

chapter 65

these three aren’t irresponsible. geto and gojo are a troublesome duo for sure, but they’re dependable. seems unlike them to forget something so simple and essential to pretty much every mission.

chapter 65

here’s my headcanon. they were hanging outside or in the car when their assistant manager got a call. the assistant was informed that two days have elapsed since mei and utahime went on their mission (or last contacted someone).

gojo: that’s weird. mei’s with her so they should have finished exorcising the spirit sooner.

geto: you think something happened to them? maybe it’s a strong special grade.

gojo: utahime probably dragged mei down with her. poor mei-san~

gojo gets up

geto: where are you going?

gojo: going to save utahime! it’s fine i’ll put up a curtain!

manager: gojo wait!!!!!!!!!!!

geto sighs

shoko: that idiot’s always running off without us.

they pin the blame on gojo for saying that he’ll put up a curtain and leaving the assistant manager behind. you know what this means? he ran and the manager couldn’t catch up HEHE... why the rush, gojo? were you actually concerned about her?

tbh i don’t see gojo ever running to something unless it’s urgent. the fact that he ran to save her says a lot.

----

let me know if you have any thoughts or questions! i forgot to add this but gojo had a more serious expression when he was explaining how they must’ve been trapped in a barrier that messes with time. he then states, “we thought it was weird even though you’re here, mei.” i know he was probably worried sick because if mei couldn’t be contacted then that means something must’ve happened to utahime too. okay that’s it for now. i’ll be bringing up this little detail i’ve noticed about utahime in the manga next :3

#gojohime #gouta #gojo x utahime

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mae-gi-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Once Again (Pt.2) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART TWO

Summary:

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother.

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

Taglist: @multi-fandom-fanfic, @168-cm-png, @bakugouswh0r3, @yatoatyourservice, @ayocee, @marvel-ing-at-it-all, @astrolcve

A/N: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Thanks to everyone for the kind feedback and for reading my work <3

< PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART >

----

He swings his beer over the counter, "one more."

He shouldn't be drinking. Imagine the damage it's doing to his organs, alcohol sweeping through his bloodstream and purging him of all coherent thought. Iwaizumi can hear Oikawa's nagging voice in his head even within the depths of intoxication.

Does he care though? He should. He should care. Because his job is basically to get people in their best shape.

And here he is, drinking away his sorrow, still shaken up by the way Hoisuke's fingers had grabbed for him that night. The bundle of nerves he'd squashed down had only intensified upon dropping his son on his mother's doorstep the same weekend and though he knew he should've said something to Mizune, he couldn't find the will to utter the words out, lest they came back to haunt him.

His phone buzzes in his pant pocket and after finishing it out with clumsy fingers, he manages to press down onto the green button.

"Yeah?"

"You're drinking!"

"No."

"Iwa-chan~" Oikawa's voice pierces through the receiver, sickly sweet and yet with a dark threatening undertone, "what are you doing?"

"Fuck off, shittykawa."

"Where are you?"

Iwaizumi doesn't answer. He doesn't need to, for Oikawa's already exclaiming the said bar's name as he takes another sip of his newly-filled beer glass.

"I thought you said you wouldn't drink anymore," Oikawa reproaches, "think of what Hoisuke would say--"

"I said fuck off."

There's a small pause where Oikawa bristles, before he says in a quieter tone, "what's wrong?"

Still, Iwaizumi says nothing but takes another huge gulp of his beer. His head feels buzzed, disoriented.

"Iwa-chan."

The said man press his lips in a taut line.

"Iwa-chaaaan."

"I'll talk to you later," Iwaizumi barely hears his friend's protests before he cuts off the call and downs the rest of his beer like a parched man, eyes narrowing towards anyone who dares reprimand him of his behaviour.

"One more," he rasps out towards the bartender, whose sending him a look that closely mimics one that clearly says he's had enough. But he scowls in response and that's enough to make the bartender's eyes slip away.

Seriously. What is wrong with him? It's already been four months goddamnit. Get over yourself. He wishes he could punch himself in the face. God, he sounds like a loser. He looks like one. And it's no wonder that his wife has left him for someone better, richer. Everything that he's not.

Not to forget that this wound will never leave their son's heart.

"One rum and coke please."

A presence lingers in his right and the brown-haired man turns with a glare at the ready, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line to scare whatever stranger that comes a little too close for his liking.

What the--

He stares at you. You stare back at him, just as dumbfounded. Looking the same, yet completely different.

"Miss Y/N?"

"Iwaizumi-san?"

He feels the sudden urge to hide his empty glass, "what--are you doing here?"

"Don't look so surprised, Iwaizumi-san," you chuckle at what you think is his flabbergasted expression, "I'm still twenty-six you know. I came here with a few of my friends."

His eyes slide towards the table in the far corner -- easy to spot since it's one of the loudest -- before he almost misses your question, "and you?"

"I come here often."

"Ah I see."

As you pay the bartender who slides your drink over, you bristle for a bit before you ask hesitantly, "mind if I sit here?"

Iwaizumi shakes his head. It's not like he can say no after all. You're his kid's teacher. And shit, how many beers has he had? He better not run his mouth. It's a dirty habit of his whenever he's shit drunk.

"So," you start off slowly, looking so out of place next to the said man with a scowl so dark it can scare off the most violent of gangsters that the corners of Iwaizumi's mouth tilt upwards in amusement, "how's it going?"

Seriously? You're seriously going to do that? His gaze searches your features for a moment, satisfied when warmth floods your cheeks.

You look away, "you don't have to look at me like that, you know. I just thought you’d want some company."

"What makes you think that?” Iwaizumi says while he flags down another beer from the waiter.

You blink at him, “I can go if you want--”

The man sighs, rubbing his temples with tiredness, “that’s not what I meant.”

A weird, empty gap of silence ensues. Long enough that Iwaizumi gets his fourth beer of the night in his hand and he takes a grateful swallow.

He really should not be drinking so much.

"Where do you work?”

You’re persistent. He’ll give you that, “personal trainer. I work at the sports academy.”

“That’s cool,” there’s a small smile edging upon your lips, “you like it?”

He nods, pauses briefly, before asking, “do you?”

Of course it’s a little too close for comfort, especially since you’re Hoisuke’s teacher and all. But you merely relax in your high stool, swinging your legs while nodding eagerly. He can’t help but notice the tightness of your dark jeans, your black high-heeled boots, “I don’t see myself working as anything else. I’m bad with people most of the time.”

Taking another swig of his beer, Iwaizumi feels the tension slowly ease up from his shoulders, “well you’re way better with kids than I am.”

“You’re pretty good with Hoisuke."

“That’s because you haven’t seen him throw tantrums.”

You laugh, "oh don't worry, I have. I know all about his little fits. All my kids have one, at some point."

You say it lightly, but there's definitely love laced in your words and for a minute, Iwaizumi thinks back to the way Hoisuke kept on praising you, the way he spoke so affectionately about you.

"Do you still play volleyball?" You ask him while sipping on your drink.

He mimics the gesture, "sometimes. The guys are all over town so it's harder to meet up now."

"Dang, your team was so good though."

"It was Oikawa that held us together. We weren't that good," he tastes the bitterness of Karasuno's victory on his tongue.

"That's not true," you protest, fiddling with your empty glass, "the only reason why I watched Aoba Johsai's games was because I liked watching you play."

Dark coffee-coloured orbs sweep up to yours at that statement, as if trying to peel layers off yout shell, as if wanting to confirm the truth of your words. You feel like cowering away but you don't, instead holding his stare in hopes that he doesn't notice how your hands tremble slightly underneath his scowl.

And then, features softening ever so slightly, he murmurs out, "thanks."

You know he means it in the best way possible.

-----

One drink turns to two. And two multiplies by four. And soon enough you're tipsy off your head and singing so blatantly off-key you wonder why Iwaizumi's still by your side. You haven't been this drunk in ages and this sense of freedom makes you bold; you tug him to the dance floor to join your friends, order shot after shot as the music gets louder and your head gets lighter, proceed to blabber your mouth off about literally anything and everything that by the end of the night, you wish the ground would swallow you whole so you won't have to deal with Iwaizumi the next day.

You're not entirely sure how you find yourself being dragged by none other than the said man himself, or how your nose is currently lodged in the crevice between his neck and shoulders. But he smells good, like citrus and a mixture of mint and-- you sniff a little more -- is that cookie dough? Your mouth waters just at the thought.

"You smell like cookie dough," the words tumble out of your mouth in a jumbled mess and you inwardly feel like stabbing yourself.

So pathetic. Pitiful really.

"That's Hoisuke," Iwaizumi replies, surprisingly patient even when he's clearly not impressed, glaring at the lamppost ahead, "it's his flavour of the month."

"That's cute!" You giggle, "just like you, Iwa!"

The man sighs while shifting his grip upon your waist, "let's just get you to bed."

You probably doze off at some point or black out because the next thing you see upon opening your eyes next is the ceiling.

Hoisting your head up and groaning when your head pounds in warning, you lie back down as nausea takes over.

Shit. This isn't your room. You know that much.

What the fuck happened last night?

You remember dancing atop tables, remember spotting Iwaizumi by the bar and talking to him because he just seemed so sad and lonely. You remember dragging him onto the dance floor, dancing together, his hands on your waist--

You danced with Iwaizumi?!

The thought is enough to trigger another pounding. You groan once more, placing your hand atop your head in hopes that it will stop it from throbbing. It doesn't. But before you have more time to wallow in your self-pity, the door creaks open and your eyes almost pop out of your head when you spot a mop of brown spiky hair enter the room.

Iwaizumi.

Oh fuck. Your brain short circuits. Fuck fuck fuck.

Surprise crosses his face, clearly having not expected you to be awake yet. He walks over to place a glass of water by the nightstand and grabs your palm to tilt two aspirins into your hand.

"How's your head?" He asks.

"Fine," you wince. It's far from fine. In response, he holds out the glass and you gladly wash down the pills, warm and feeling suddenly vulerable under his stare.

Chewing onto the inside of your cheek, you muster up all your courage to ask, "what--happened last night?"

You don't miss the way his eyebrows shoot up, "you don't remember?"

"...no."

Is that amusement dancing in his eyes? You're not sure since it's gone just as quickly as it came before he says, "you got drunk. Danced on the table, had too many shots and made out with two different men--"

"I'm pretty sure the last part didn't happen."

"You said you didn't remember," he smirks lightly.

"I can't even flirt, let alone kiss strangers."

That earns you a chuckle from his part, causing your heart to flutter slightly as he straightens up, "you probably want to wash up. Bathroom's on the right. I'm in the kitchen if you need me."

"Okay," and as he turns away, you quickly add, "thanks, Iwaizumi-san."

He nods back, exiting the room and finally allowing you to collapse back against the bed to try slowing down your galloping heart. Jesus christ, you think to yourself as you slowly take in your surroundings. From the lack of furniture and with only a few clothes flung over a wooden desk chair shoved in the right, you guess it's his room. A closed laptop and a small plant sits on his desk. On the left is the nightstand filled with sports books and some manga, a closet shoved in a corner and the floor is made in veneered wood.

There's no sign of family pictures, nothing that indicates the warmth of a cosy household. It doesn't take a genius to understand why. While Hoisuke had begged you not to tell his father, you weren't a stranger to the young boy sobbing in-between breaks because he misses his mother.

Well, it's not like you're allowed into family affairs anyway, as much as that breaks your heart.

After a much needed shower and a quick brush of your teeth -- you had to make do with using your fingers with his toothpaste, too embarrassed to actually ask him whether he had a spare toothbrush -- you walk out into the kitchen to see Iwaizumi already seated at a quaint wooden table laden with eggs and toast. Behind him sits the kitchen stove and white countertops next to a fridge fitting snuggly on the left corner. On the far right of the room is a large dark grey couch and a tv set, and just behind it is a small hallway which seems to be the entrance -- guessing by the coat rack and array of shoes.

"Sunny side up or boiled?" Iwaizumi asks as you take a seat opposite him. He has already poured you a cup of strong coffee and you inhale before sighing in bliss. Your headache already feels slightly better.

"Anything is fi--" you're interrupted by his scowl, quickly changing your answer to, "sunny-side up please."

He grunts, passes you the plate and digs into his own fried eggs, the soft boiled ones forgotten at the centre of the table.

"Uhm, forgive me for point it out, but that's a lot of food Iwaizumi-san," you mumble out, not missing the way his features harden slightly.

"Force of habit," he mutters in-between mouthfuls. He doesn't need to say more, for you're pretty certain he's referring to the family he used to have, those lazy Sunday mornings that started out with brunch.

You eat in companionable silence and though it'a definitely less awkward than last night, your mind still races trying to figure out what to say to erase the permanent furrow between his brows.

Or is that his normal demeanour? To be honest, you're not quite sure yourself.

So you settle for thanking him for last night, to which he replies, "do you usually drink that much?"

"No," you duck your head, avert your gaze, "I got carried away. I'm really sorry."

"Well I wouldn't have expected my kid's teacher to be that wild," he muses while taking a bite of his toast.

Alarm zaps through you, making your eyes go wide, "I swear I'm not usually like that, really. I just--this was an exception--"

"It's fine, miss Y/N. I know," his brown pupils lock onto yours briefly, "I'm not going to report you."

"I--" nothing can really make up for your behaviour last night. You know that much, "still, I'm sorry. That wasn't appropriate," you glance up, chest tightening at the intensity of his stare, unflinching. Unwavering.

He cocks his head at you then, a semblance of a smile along his mouth, "I was pretty entertained, if you ask me."

"Was I that bad?"

"No. But let's just say that you won't want to show your face around for the next week or so."

You groan and bury your face in your hands, "what did I do?"

"You might've broken a beer glass or two," he gives you a look, "on purpose. And tried to steal the Dj's headphones cause he wasn't putting the music you requested."

"Oh god," you want to bury yourself right then and there and to your surprise, you see him laugh softly before he nudges your coffee towards you.

"Drink," he orders, "it'll make you feel less shitty."

You're about to retort with a roll of your eyes, only to be interrupted by the doorbell ringing. From the way Iwaizumi tenses, you know it's not just the mail man.

Excusing himself to go unlock the door as you twist in your seat to follow his figure, shock courses through you the moment your eyes land on Hoisuke's.

Then, his mother.

An alarm bell rings through your mind.

"I thought you said evening," comes Iwaizumi's grunt, totally unlike the guy who'd been chuckling a few seconds ago.

"Hoisuke wanted to come back early for some reason," the woman says, her gaze flickering to yours for a brief moment. It's enough to cause you to swallow hard. She continues, "I'll pick him up on--"

"Miss Y/N?!" Hoisuke shouts out suddenly and before you know it, you're being tackled into the child's arms as if you haven't seen each other forever, "what are you doing here?! Daddy!" he whips his head around in accusation, "you lied about not really really liking Miss Y/N!"

"Wha--No!" Iwaizumi yells as you frown in confusion, "huh?"

"Daddy said that really really liking someone means you wanna be boyfriend and girlfriend with them, like he was with Mama before she moved houses," Hoisuke blabbers on, totally oblivious to how the three of you keep on staring at him in growing alarm, "and then I asked him if he really really liked miss Y/N because I really really like miss Y/N but he said no, but that's a lie!"

"Hajime, what is he talking about?" His ex-wife is quick to narrow her eyes, "what have you been telling him?"

"Nothing, it's not what you think--"

"I think," she pointedly glances at you, "I should leave now. We'll talk about this later."

And with that, she swivels around and storms out, leaving the three of you to stare after her in a mixture of shock and confusion.

Hoisuke, oblivious to the sudden tension, blurts out, "daddy, why is Mama angry with you?"

----

The few weeks following the tiny incident that had resulted in an awkward misunderstanding between you, Hoisuke’s parents and the said child himself had caused you to retreat back into the shell of professionalism that included avoiding Iwaizumi whenever it was deemed possible. It hadn’t been hard since he was usually present and waiting outside class to pick up Hoisuke right on time, making it much easier to avoid conversation with him altogether.

You’d texted iwaizumi right after reaching your humble abode the day he’d practically saved your drunk ass and though you spent a few spare moments to chat in-between the bustling activities of life, it doesn’t erase the fact that he’s still Hoisuke’s father, one of your dearest students. That, and the fact that you don’t really find it fair to put Hoisuke in-between the two of you, if there’s anything worth digging for anyway.

Who are you kidding? It’s not like Iwaizumi would ever be interested in you in that sense. Having spotted his ex-wife once or twice proved that his style was of more refined women, the type that would drink wine instead of chug down beer and who’d enjoy gifts such as perfume and romantic dates instead of going on grocery trips and meal-prepping for the entire week.

“Miss Y/N!” Hoisuke’s voice pierces through your thought bubble and your eyes quickly find his grin as he jumps towards your desk, "are you coming to our house this weekend too?!"

"Wh--What? Uhm-- no I don't think so--" eyes quickly flitting over the classroom, you're relieved to find that the rest of his classmates are long gone, "I don't think that's appropriate."

"But why? I even told Mama that I wouldn't be coming this weekend because you were," he pouted and it took all of your determination not to melt, until his words registered in your brain and your eyes widened, "o--oh, but that's--"

"Hoisuke?" You both turn to see his father's head poking through the door. Your body reacts instantly, warmth flooding through your limbs and flushing through your cheeks.

"Daddy!"

"H-Hello, Iwaizumi-san," you bow your head slightly. He returns the gesture, facial expression not giving anything away. His son bounds up to him with just as much vigor, "daddy, can we invite miss Y/N this weekend too?"

You might have laughed at Iwaizumi's shocked face if not for the fact that you are the person in question.

He splutters, "Miss Y/N has things to do--"

"But she came last weekend!"

"Yes well, it's bad manners to impose on someone when they're not free," Iwaizumi replies sternly, "come on now, we're gonna be late for Karate."

With a loud sigh and a scowl that resembles so much like his father, Hoisuke mutters out his goodbyes while Iwaizumi catches your eye, bowing slightly and muttering a silent "sorry" before he guides his son out of the room. You're glad he's out of earshot that he can't hear the stuttering of your heart against your chest.

You place a hand on your chest, sigh tiredly before looking down at your students' papers, "get a grip, Y/N," you mutter to yourself.

But it's not that easy to control yourself when Iwaizumi is making it so easy to like him.

----

Iwaizumi: sorry about yesterday.

Y/N: it's okay. Hoisuke’s young, it's normal for him to want for a motherly figure around.

Iwaizumi's fingers drum over his knee as he watches with slight interest the newest male volleyball team practice their serves. He shouts after a few, calling them out for theit lazy postures, but other than that he can't seem to stop his thoughts from winding their way back to you.

"Who is she?" Mizune had asked him on the phone on the day following their encounter. Her tone was friendly, yet held that tone of warning that he was so accustomed to.

"How does that concern you?"

"I want to know who you're bringing around to hang out with Hoisuke."

"She's an acquaintance of mine," he paused, "and Hoisuke's teacher."

"That's inapropriate if you ask me."

Scoffing, he replied, "like what you did's so appropriate?"

A small pause ensued. When she spoke next, there was no mistaking the edge to her voice.

"You can't keep using that against me, Hajime."

"Don't tell me who I can or can't hang out with."

He'd hung up without bothering to wait for her response, seething and red hot with rage blubbering through his stomach.

Of course now that he thinks it over, Mizune has a point. Mixing the professional and the personal have never ended in happy endings. Not that this has ever stopped him before. He doesn't believe in what everyone else thinks is right. That's also one of the main reasons why Mizune couldn't handle it anymore. Or so she said before she went to suck someone else's dick.

His phone vibrates and fishing it out, a scowl instantly shadows his face upon seeing Oikawa's name flash across the screen.

Oikawa: Iwa-chan ~ have you asked her out yet?

Iwaizumi has to force himself to stay in control and not pound his phone to pieces when he types out his reply.

Iwaizumi: No.

Oikawa: BUT WHYYYY~ YOU SAID YOU FOUND HER CUTE.

Oikawa: and Hoisuke likes her. He already knows her.

Iwaizumi: I didn’t say that. And she's not interested.

Oikawa: Just because you suck at picking up cues doesn't mean she isn't throwing them at you 😏😏😏

Iwaizumi: shut up, shittykawa.

Oikawa: Just do it or I'll do it for you.

Iwaizumi: I don't even like her that way.

Oikawa: why'd you rant about not wanting to hurt her feelings yesterday night then?

Iwaizumi's hand rubs at his face with a groan. Oikawa's a little shit most of the time, but he's a perceptive little shit.

Oikawa: I mean it. Ask her out or I'll do it for you.

Oikawa: gotta go now. Match is starting. See ya!~ muah ❤

"Dumbass," Iwaizumi growls under his breath before shoving the phone back into his pocket. Easier said than done to ask someone out so casually, especially when she's Hoisuke's teacher.

If she accepts, great. If she doesn't, he'll have to suffer through humiliation for the rest of the year or avoid picking up Hoisuke altogether.

Oh fuck it.

He lets his body send the message before his brain can catch up to the way he has thrown himself under the bus, shoves his phone back into his pocket and tries to put the thought out of his mind even though the device suddenly feels hot and heavy in his pant pocket.

Iwaizumi: we're having takeout and movie night on Friday. You're free to join.

----

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tooweirdforyou · 4 years ago

Text

The OP Boys & Their Personal Dirty Secrets pt. 2

A/N : Hey hun! I hope you like this! ( i can’t tag you idk why ) I saw you wanted a part two to this and decided to do it because it was fun. I guess, lol. anyways hope you like this! :>

Soooo, don’t judge the gif I couldn’t find anything else. Also I’m kinda tired ;-; alsooo. these ones are a LITTLE bit dirtier.

Warning : NSFW AHEAD! PROCEED WITH CAUTION! ⚠️ ESPECIALLY W/ THATCH.

kid and mihawk don’t have specific dark secrets since I couldn’t think of anything that would yk connect to them. ;-;

Summary : All of these boys and their personal, hidden dirty secrets. PART TWO!

Doflamingo

Oh boy, this male, despite his possessiveness, has a bit of a voyeurism kink. He hasn’t yet, but he DEFINITELY wants to turn on the country wide announcement, ( like those screens whatever used in Dressrosa when he talked ) and just fuck you as everyone watches throughout the island. He dreams of it, and one day, HE WILL make it a reality.

“How does it feel?” The lick of his lips and the shit-eating grin was on display all over the island for the people of Dressrosa to see, the image of Doflamingo’s hips thrusting and making contact with your rear.

“Does it feel good to have the whole island watching you being fucked senseless, by me? Their king?”

You couldn’t respond, lost in the insane amount of pleasure that ran through your body, specifically your lower regions. You didn’t even care that you were being watched, basking in the euphoria you were given at the moment.

Doffy’s strings suspended you partially in air, the material binding your body so you couldn’t move in the slightest as he took you from behind.

Arms wrapped around your bare figure, one holding you thigh tightly while the other wrapped around your torso, his hand grasping your throat and his fingers, pressing itself onto the flesh of your neck.

If you were fortunate, your face was cut off from the screen to be visible but your exposed body was seen by everyone who watched.

Doflamingo felt glory and power, as he continued to fuck you for all to see, your sweet, melodic moans echoing through the island as he did this.

What a fantasy that will soon become a reality.

Kid

Literally anything but also nothing. I couldn’t think of anything.. so here’s a kink he has! Dominant Submission. (?) basically, he LOVES the submissive ones, but those who really fight back. Feisty bitches yk? But like, he knows you’re all talk because he’ll have you begging for him on your knees once the two of you really get started. ;)

You’re teasing the hell out of Kid. You’re being bad by ignoring Kid and disobeying his orders and the Captain has had enough.

He barges into your room, slamming the door shut with the lock clicking on and before you could react, he has his hand around your throat and your back shoved to the wall.

“You think you’re being funny?” He growls into your ear, instantly using his free hand to rip your clothes off in a swift pull.

Despite the lack of air you had, your face still formed a sly and cheeky smirk in response. “I..I think it’s.. hilarious. Ha.”

Kid scowls before slowly smirking himself and tightened his grip on your neck a little bit more, but not enough to actually kill you. ( he cares after all :> )

“Tch. Looks like you need a punishment.” He drags you over to your bed and shoves you roughly done onto him, unbuckling his pants and pulled the belt out from the loops and pressed the two ends together so he had an able whipping belt. ( make sense? )

You merely grin at this and tilt your head. “Oh? Is that for me?” You hum and sat up, legs up and spread for him to see your already getting wet pussy, arms over you knees.

The sight of it made Kid growl lowly before he walks closer to you. “Time for you to face the consequences of pissing me off.”

With one hand, he forces you down onto the bed, breasts against the mattress and your ass forcefully in the air.

And with the raise of his other hand, it was only seconds before a loud whip was heard.

Tears stings the corner of your eyes but you still held strong, biting your lip. “Is that all you got? Guess you weren’t so angry.” You laugh and Kid didn’t respond, only whipping you once more, a little more force.

“Don’t you worry. I have all night long.”

[ I could write a whole OneShot about this, I had to stop lol ]

Marco

Little bit harder, buttt, come on. Sex in the air? Marco’s dream, for sure. And if he’s going to admit it, yes, he has done sexual activities in the air, where no one would be around.

The blonde doctor soars across the sky, a little ways away from the ship, not too far to lose sight but enough where he wouldn’t be seen, regardless of it being the time of night.

He’s only ever done it once or twice, but the no matter how many times Marco would do it again afterwards, the first time experience couldn’t ever be bested.

Sexual activities in the air.

Yet, that didn’t mean Marco didn’t love the thrill and excitement it brought him, especially when he did it so often in his younger days.

Extending his bright cyan blue wings out and around him, Marco palms himself through his pants, shutting his eyes before slightly lowering his pants enough to release his cock into the exposed cold air.

Marco shivers before reeling back and moving so he was laying down, his wings as support. One left propped up and his fingers wrapped itself around his shaft, his touch slow.

With nothing but the moon lighting down on him and the refreshing night breeze in the midnight sky, Marco felt at ease as he continues to rub his length in a teasingly slow motion, only increasing in speed seconds after.

Marco won’t lie, when it came to his release, he often did it into his hands and a bit dripping down onto his hips and chest,

but it felt good letting his cum spurt into the ocean.

Thatch

It’s pretty known that Thatch is a real perv with large sexual desires. ( at least to me because of @ honeybakedthatch lol ) however, this personal secret is his dirtiest one yet.

Thatch bit his lip as he grunted out a soft groan, feeling the rest of his warm, bitter cum shooting out from his tip and into the leftover mixture of cream and condensed milk he made for the cinnamon buns.

Pulling his pants up and zipping it tight, Thatch made sure to thoroughly mix the cum and mixture together with a plastic spoon before drizzling it over the cinnamon buns he left out just for you.

The plastered grin Thatch wore merely widens as he watched the ordinary looking cinnamon buns look identical to the others, but he knew the pleasant surprise in taste that differed.

Just as he finished drizzling the cream, the door opened, you having walked in. “Thatch, I smell something good! What is it?”

The cheery, innocent smile you had made Thatch smirk a bit, the imagination all too pleasant, the thought of you eating his delicious cinnamon buns.

“I made cinnamon buns. Here, I made these especially for you.” Thatch holds out the separate plate he had and walks closer to you, placing a sweet kiss on your temple before letting you take the plate and fork.

“Enjoy. If it’s a bit too bitter, let me know and I’ll.. sweeten it up for you.”

Mihawk

This stoic ass man is such an intimate, romanticist, he doesn’t quite have very dirty secrets.. but, one kink he secretly has is bondage and slight corruption. He won’t ever mention it but if you bring it up, he’ll voice his opinions on it.

“Now, now, love. You should be careful.”

Mihawk’s strict but amused tone was evident as he sat in his chair and watched you writhe in the tight black silk ribbons that bounded you on the ground.

Your arms were tied behind your back, your vision blocked by a silk blindfold and your legs were forced spread by a ankle bar, exposing your bare heat towards Mihawk.

You were leaning against a table/chair, and the only thing you could hear were Mihawk’s praises and warnings, along with the humming vibration that came from the vibrator strapped to your clit.

“You might loosen the binds, and you know you don’t want that, do you?” Mihawk sternly questions and you shook your head, biting your lip to prevent yourself from moaning out too loud.

“Oh? You aren’t responding?” Mihawk smiles slightly as he leans on his hand, elbow on the armrest of his chair. “I asked you a question.”

You gasp out in realization and stammered out, trying to close your legs from the shock and orgasm you keep receiving.

“I-I mean no.. h-hah.. ah.. I, I don’t want it to loosen.” Your blush darkens at the embarrassment you held, but you loved this, just as much as Mihawk did.

Shanks

I could come up with a bunch of things but the first thing my mind went to was — sex tapes. Shanks is all for EVERYTHING but I feel like sex tapes seal the deal. Especially since he hooks up with so many women, I’m sure.

Shanks watches as the woman below him arches her back and curls her toes in pure bliss and euphoria.

The loud moans escaping her lips and filling the motel rooms only edged him further.

His tight grip on the woman’s left thigh glides up to grab the soft mound flesh on her left, his fingers twisting the little perky bud as he thrusted his hips roughly into her, eliciting a louder pleasurable cry.

The sound of skin slapping was the only thing heard other than the heavy grunts of Shanks and the mewls of the woman being fucked into oblivion.

Shanks, despite having the time of his life and was nearing his climax as he continued to thrust into the two small and tight lips, it’s walls clenching around him, could only think about the recording camera on its designated position on top of the drawer.

As much as he loved the real experience at the current moment, he couldn’t wait to rewatch the recording of it and relive the experience that way.

A/N: here you go, hun! I know you wanted a part 2 with these characters and I hope this went out you expected and wanted! :>

A few don’t have proper endings but it’s gooddd enoughhh for me. :p

jus wondering, what do y’all think Kid has? Master, sir, daddy or captain kink? Or none and just his name?

Law def has a “doc/doctor” kink lol but since I’m at it, I don’t think Marco has that.

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #op #one piece writing #dracule mihawk x reader #donquixote doflamingo x reader #one piece thatch x reader #one piece thatch #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #marco the phoenix x reader #marco the phoenix #eustass captain kid x reader #eustass kid x reader #ns.fw

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kashimos-hajime · 4 years ago

Text

the girl in purple (1/8) | r.b.

summary: In his mind, you’re wearing the white blouse and long purple skirt again, long riding boots covering dark pants, innocent smile on your face as you wait for him in the noon sunlight. Or, four years ago, Bertholdt asked for a favour and you said yes.

WARNINGS: swearing, ass jokes, flashbacks and flashforwards, mostly fluff and banter, pining and angst at the end, bertholdt is our soft best friend <3 pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 5.0k

a/n: pt 1 of 8 of a birthday present for the legend, the icon, the bad bitch herself, ISABEL!!@!@!@ @luciilferss ALSO, song not mine! it’s the sea shanty called wellerman.

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

You sigh, wiping the back of your hand before grabbing the next hay bale that needed to be lifted to the loft. Your back aching, you grit your teeth as you lug it towards the ladder. It’s the last one and after a sweaty afternoon, you just want to get into bed. Hopefully Annie did end up getting you supper—you had to work through it just so Shadis didn’t get your ass up tomorrow to finish the job.

“Here, let me help.”

“Oh, thank you,” you reply, glancing to see your savior and a warmth shoots through your body when you realize it’s Bertholdt. “You know if Shadis catches you helping me, it’s going to be hell to pay, right?” The boy smiles, shrugging, and you can’t help your own grin as he gestures for you to climb up. Skirting up the ladder, you turn around to take the hay bale and pushing it towards the corner before jumping down and dusting off your hands. Stable clean-up is never fun, but with autumn right around the corner, they all want to get a head start before the chill sets in.

“I wanted to ask you a favour.”

“I knew there had to be a reason you were in here,” you tease. “Shoot.”

“Well, we have visiting privileges next weekend,” Bertholdt continues as you walk around the stables, picking up tools as you make your way towards where the broom is leaning against the wall. The tall boy ambles after you and you shoot him an amused look, curiosity pricking at your fingers.

Half-way through their training in the corps, and Bertholdt still manages to keep you guessing. You don’t know what it is about him, but your friend’s always been the quiet one. It’s part of why you like being around him, but you just wish his friend liked you. Annie seems more than fine with you.

Reiner, on the other hand, can barely even look at you. It’s a real downer.

“I was just wondering…”

“You should ask Annie,” you cut off before he can finish, picking up the broom to begin sweeping the stray hay into a neat pile. Bertholdt’s spine goes ramrod straight and his cheeks redden so intensely you can’t help but laugh. “I’m pretty sure she would say yes. You guys are friends, right?”

“Yes, but we’re—we’re not—why would I ask Annie, specifically?” he stammers. The horses neigh as you walk past, their necks stretching out for treats but you ignore them, heading for the entrance. “She could go with a bunch of other people.”

“Yeah, but she always goes with me.” Glancing at Bertholdt, your eyes narrow when he smacks his forehead, covering his flustered expression miserably. Poking him in the gut with the handle of your broom, you continue, “And she only likes a few people here. You’re one of them, Bertl.”

“Well, if you think so. I mean, you’re her dorm mate, not me, so… argh!” he groans as you walk past him, sweeping. “You’re not helping!”

“Helping with what?” you ask innocently, not paying him a second look. You hear him let out a sigh as you brush hay to the back of the stables. “You’re the one who wanted a favour.”

“Yeah, and I still need to tell you.”

“Literally no one’s stopping you, Bertholdt.” Another resigned sigh. “Okay. Okay. Ask me. I promise I won’t tease you for the next ten minutes.” Turning around, you rest your broom against the post between two stalls. A horse nudges at your face and you scratch the stallion’s chin as Bertholdt walks closer. His eyes inspect your own expression, searching for trickery, but you only grin.

Then, he drops his crossed arms and says, “Someone wants to ask you out next weekend for our visit to Trost.”

“Er, okay? Why didn’t they just ask me themselves?” Crossing your own arms, you lean against the post, the lantern hanging above your head and casting everything in a warm glow. It softens Bertholdt’s smile as he shrugs mischievously. “Who was it?”

“Reiner.”

“Reiner?” His name is punched out of you, sharp with shock, and your broom slides off the post, clattering to the floor between the two cadets as you stare at Bertholdt.

“Mhm?”

“Reiner Braun.”

“Yep.”

“We know the same one, don’t we?”

“Blond, makes ass jokes, this tall?” he shoots back, raising a hand that comes just near his ear. You nod. “Yeah.”

“But he hates me.”

“What? No, he doesn’t. Why would you think that?” Bertholdt’s eyebrows knit together and you stare at him incredulously, not sure if he’s joking or not. Shaking your head, you let out a scoff and bend down to pick up your broom to continue your sweeping. Mind a swirl, you try to reconcile the Reiner, who has never said more to you than ‘pass the grease’ during ODM maintenance and ‘you have dirt on your chin’ after forest exercises, with the Reiner who had to ask Bertholdt to ask you out for him.

Sounds fake, but you digress.

“Okay,” you drawl, unable to help the disbelief from creeping into your voice. “This was a good attempt at a joke, but you need to try harder next time.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“Why would I ever believe you?”

“Because I would never li—make something up like that,” he says, correcting himself, and you send him a strange look. “Just… when we get to Trost, you know that bakery that sells the stuffed cream buns. The one you mentioned before?”

“Yeah. Annie likes them,” you inform him pointedly, and Bertholdt’s mouth drops open to argue but he seems to think better of it this time.

“Yes, that one.” Fighting a furious blush on his cheeks, he continues, “If you’re there at noon, you’ll see I’m not lying.”

“And if I’m not there?”

“Reiner will be very sad for the rest of his life,” Bertholdt declares and you can’t help your serious expression from sliding off. “Will you please just consider it?”

Staring at your friend, you study his expression. It’s completely genuine, open, eyes wide and you feel a part of you melting at how adorable he is. For such a tall guy, he’s so goddamn gentle it blows your mind he’s a fighter. You can’t see him hurting even so much as a fly.

It’s for that reason you relent. Because Bertholdt’s never gone out of his way to scheme your downfall. He doesn’t have that in him. “Fine,” you say after a moment. “Fine, I’ll consider it.”

When Reiner steps back into the port city, he can’t help but think what he always thinks when he gets off a battlefield. Four years, and every thought is the same. Routine, almost. Or maybe, a habit to keep something alive.

And he almost takes comfort in it. That you would’ve loved it here. In Marley—Liberio, or otherwise. There are so many kinds of sweets, pastries, so many sights to see—the water stretches on for miles and miles, and you could’ve tried seafood. Maybe you would’ve liked it.

You never tried seafood. He promised. He promised—

Fucking hell.

He steps out of the barracks, insides twisting into a tight knot as the sun blinds him. Lifting a hand, he squints and blinks, trying to get used to the brightness as people pass him by. Galliard’s voice trails after him like a ghost, and he scowls to himself, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He feels like he hasn’t slept a wink, and his body aches in places so deep he can’t rub it out.

“I saw you through her memories. You acted like the tough, reliable type. Not at all like yourself. And you were with that girl. Who was she to you, anyway, Reiner? Because my brother would have never cozied up with the enemy.”

Cozied up with the enemy. It’s as much as implying fraternization as anything and Reiner had barely chained back the words that would’ve torn both him and Galliard to shreds.

Don’t you fucking dare reduce her to just some promise I broke ever again. It stopped meaning something to me years ago.

Shaking his head free of Galliard’s voice, an image of you flashes through his mind to replace it and the urge to send a fist into his own face lances down his arm, but he barely restrains himself from doing so. Instead, he tightens his hand until his nails dig into his palm.

You’re always the one thing he can’t shake, nor does he think he wants to.

Hollow, his feet drag his battered body towards the harbour.

As he walks along the water, he hear some of the fishermen whistle and sing their shanties. It takes him a moment to recognize they’re all singing the same song, and he’s thrown back to when he came to the port the first time he was to go off to Paradis, how he committed the shanties to memory so he could take something with him to what was supposed to be an Island of Devils.

It makes his entire body ache, the uplifting tune filling his body up until he can’t possibly breathe. The way the sailors all sing together, smiling at each other—the camaraderie.

“Soon may the Wellerman come, to bring us sugar and tea and rum, one day when the toungin’ is done, we’ll take our leave and go…”

He misses that the most.

The sun is hanging in the centre of the sky as you glance from your plate to your surroundings. The fountain is full of life, people milling around the edges, tossing coins in and making wishes, and you hide a smile behind your hand when you watch a group of kids trying to flick their coins to the top most basin of the structure. The tiny plink-plink is barely heard, but either way, their groans of disappointment are far more amusing.

It helps pass the time at least, while you waste away your afternoon waiting for someone you’re not even sure will come. Dressed in a white blouse tucked into a long dark purple skirt that covers your pants, you cross one leg over the other as you wait.

You don’t even know why you’re here. Bertholdt had all but avoided your questions for the past week, and Annie didn’t budge, although, it’s harder for the blonde to slip. Being bunkmates helps, but not that much.

You keep people-watching, glancing up at the sky occasionally to see if any birds pass over, your bread untouched. Glancing up and down the street, you rest your chin glumly on the palm of your hand, elbow resting on the table.

No pretty blond head in sight.

Groaning, you lift your head when one of the waiters approaches, asking if you wanted anything more. You shake your head, a warmth spreading over your face and watching him go when a shadow falls over your table.

“Oh, you got something to eat already.”

Head jerking to the voice, you look up in surprise at whoever’s blocking your sunlight. Standing upright, your chair clatters against cobblestone as you clear your throat.

“You’re actually here,” you blurt out to both of their surprise and Reiner rocks back on his heels, running a hand through his short hair. His eyebrows struggle to meet his hairline and he smiles sheepishly.

“Sorry I’m late. Uh, sit down. I just… got lost.” You sink back into your chair and he takes the seat down across from yours nervously. He’s dressed in a pale green button up and darker slacks, but for once, he’s not scowling at you and you offer a slight smile. “How… how are you?”

“I’m okay. Slow morning.” He nods. You glance at your plate and nudge it towards him awkwardly. “I got it for you. It’s my favourite. I dunno what Bertl told you about me, or… why I’m even here, honestly.”

He picks up the bun tentatively, and you look down at your boots as he takes a bite, too nervous to watch his reaction.

What if he hates sweet things? What if he can’t drink cow milk? Don’t you remember? What if it makes him shit his pants—

“Oh, wow. I need to come to this place more often,” Reiner mumbles, taking another huge bite and your gaze flits to his face as he chews. His eyes are focused solely on the bun in a way that reminds you a lot like Sasha, and the corner of your mouth pulls into a pleased hint of a smile. “This is heaven…”

“You like it?”

A noise escapes the blond and eyes jerk to meets yours as if he just remembered you were there and you tear your eyes away, clasping your hands together on the table. You close your eyes. Can the embarrassment just swallow you up already?

Reiner clears his throat, taking the cup of water left out for him after a quick point and your nod. He drains it to buy them both time, and your thumbs rub together. If you just walk away now, would it be too bad? You could probably find Annie or Jean pretty easily. Bertholdt’s probably just exploring the city with… if you had to hazard a guess, maybe Armin? They both like the architecture—stuff like that.

Honestly, you have no idea.

Porcelain rests against wood as Reiner nods. “I do. I didn’t know you had a sweet tooth.”

“Er, yeah. Since I was a kid. We didn’t have much, uh, variety, so stuff like this was kinda a delicacy. I grew up at this orphanage where we worked the fields.” You shift in your seat as Reiner continues to eat, and you sigh silently to yourself. Why did you give up an afternoon looking at paint supplies with Jean for an awkward date like this?

Wait, this is a date right? That’s what Bertholdt said. Ask you out. Those were his words, right?

“Where are you from?”

“Just inside Wall Maria, so when Shiganshina was breached, we had more time to move inward,” you explain briefly. “But we mostly ate what we grew for crops. I mean, it’s not like we could buy cream buns every day, you know?” Reiner nodded silently, and you give him an uneasy smile, feeling the need to elaborate. “Ever since we joined the corps, they send me money for birthdays and stuff. I don’t know.” You clear your throat. “Anyway, I just thought you might like the bun.”

“Even though you think I hate you?”

“Wha—“ A strangled noise comes out of your mouth. “Who told you that?”

“Why would you think that, anyway?”

“Because all you do is glare at me,” you say pointedly. Crossing your arms over your chest, you shoot him a narrowed look. “And scowl. And you generally avoid being anywhere near me. I mean, do I stink to you or something, Braun, because I have news for you—“

“I don’t hate you. I actually really like you,” he tells you bluntly, cutting your rant in half, and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Reiner looks down at the empty plate, crossing his own arms and leaning forward on them.

“Y-you like me?” you stammer and his cheeks redden.

“I mean, if Annie likes someone, I’m inclined to believe that they’re worth my time.”

Frowning, your shoulders slump. Gears turning, your expression scrunches up as you think aloud. “But, you asked Bertholdt to ask me out for you. Unless this is a dumb dare—wait.” You sit upright, twisting around to see if any of the other boys are milling around the plaza. Scanning for brown hair, or grey hair, or even blond hair, your cheeks begin to burn at the idea that someone’s watching you embarrass yourself but a hand on your elbow brings your gaze reeling back to Reiner.

A smile curls his lips impishly, but his eyes are resolute, calmer. Even still, he looks like he’s trying to fight a small panic rising up inside him, just like you are as he tells you to relax.

“This isn’t a dare,” he says. “I’m not that cruel.”

“I’ve seen you do worse to Titan dummies.”

“Exactly. I just wanted to get to know you better. Bertholdt offered to help me out since you guys are already friends, and I thought what the hell.”

You turn that explanation over in your head tentatively and a part of you recognizes it makes sense. Despite your hesitation, you know you only said yes because it was Bertholdt who asked you.

Otherwise, how inclined were you to say yes if it had been Reiner stalking up to you and asking you to hang out in Trost? How likely would it have been that you would be sitting here instead of walking along the stalls with Sasha and Connie?

“I’m kinda ashamed I don’t know you that well,” Reiner continues, fighting off tones you can’t decipher laced in his voice. Your brow furrows. “But I want to fix that, if you’d let me.”

Dazedly, you repeat, “Fix… that?”

He nods and you simply stare at him, trying to get your mouth to work. It’s like he stole all the words from your mouth and time seems to slow as your lips part.

Absently, you realize his hand is still touching your elbow, fingers firm but not tight, and you swallow, studying his expression. Golden light plays on his face, sharpening the shadows of his nose and cheeks and lips, and yet everything about him seems to soften. Normally, you see him as hard rigid lines, like the shape of armour, and there is always an imposing aura around him that has become more muted now that he’s sitting beside you.

And you believe it. That he doesn’t hate you.

Maybe he really, really doesn’t, and you’d be an idiot if you don’t take up the offer.

So you stand up abruptly, and pull your arm out of his grip before slipping your hand into his.

“Fine,” you annouce, pulling him up. His eyes widen and you lead him away from the café with a small grin to yourself. A new plan begins to formulate in your mind as they step into the welcoming sun. Reiner’s long strides catch up to yours and he falls into step beside you. His stare burns into your cheek and you only tighten your grip on his hand as you lift your chin haughtily at him. “What do you say to a game of twenty questions?”

His eyebrows shoot up, but then a smug smile pulls at his mouth and he squeezes your hand back. “Sounds perfect, creampie. I promise, I’ll be perfectly honest.”

“Creampie?” you repeat dumbly, eyebrows shooting up and a horrible burning licking at your heart. Reiner gives you a vulgar smile and you let go of his hand, shaking your head and smacking his arm before looking down at the ground. Half of you wishes the ground would open up and swallow you whole—the other half thinks you’ll die of embarrassment before that. “How do you even know what that is?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You straighten up, spine straight as an arrow. Flustered, you stutter, “That’s none of your business.”

He tilts his head back and laughs. “Guess that was your first question, then, huh? Bold start. Surprised me, too, creampie, so that gets you bonus points.”

“What? Wait—no! That doesn’t count!”

Walking past the hospital every day, it feels almost ritual to look past the gates and into the courtyard. Sometimes there are patients milling around, doing their daily physical activity, or nurses and other workers walking through to get a break from all the depressing shit that must be going on in there, and Reiner always, always, wonders if he should be in there with the rest of them.

It’s why he turns his head on reflex now, peering through iron-wrought gates. No one’s inside except for a pair walking through the path and he stops for a moment, watching.

One of them is most definitely a woman, a hat covering her head and a long coat the shade of plums. A white Eldian armband is stark against the shade of her clothes. Meanwhile the other looks like he’s been dragged through hell. With one leg, he hobbles along with his crutch, black hair streaming past his shoulders, and he’s ragged, white shirt kind of messy from where Reiner stands. The Eldian armband is wrapped tight along his bicep. But he stands straight-back, shoulders set, the gait of a soldier. Pride keeps him up, not strength.

He’s too far away to hear them speak, and they stick to the shadows of the hospital, but after a short moment, the woman wraps an arm around the one not desperately holding onto the crutch, leaning in closer towards the man as if he has the most riveting thing to say.

For a moment, it is not a woman in a purple jacket and a veteran with one leg but two cadets walking the streets of Trost, sunlight shining down on them warmly. The blond boy leans to listen to the girl beside him, smiling until he thought his cheeks would fall off.

“This is your last question, Reiner. Make it count.”

“Hm… alright, if you could do anything in the world, anything at all, what would you do? No Titans, no soldiers. Let’s say there was no war at all and you had unlimited resources, yadda, yadda, yadda…”

“Oh? Hm… I’d want to live where there’s a lot of water. Like a lake or something. I’d get to try all these foods I’ve never thought of before, and I’d, uh… I don’t know what I’d do for money. I guess I’d figure it out somehow.”

“Chopping down wood sounds fun.”

“Yeah, right! I’d rather chop my fingers off. Hm… Maybe I could raise some kids, like I was raised. Give them a home.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“I dunno. I like being responsible for things. It makes me feel like I’m needed, I guess. I don’t want a kid to grow up lonely like I did.”

“That… that sounds nice.”

“You could visit, you know. As long as you chop the firewood.”

Reiner blinks, and the two are gone. Not a hint of them are in sight, and a soft breath slips out between his lips. He must’ve been seeing things.

Shaking his head to himself, he turns away.

The past year and a half has been turbulent since you became friends with Reiner, but for some reason, you don’t think you would change the thing.

Not even when Connie would come at ghastly hours in the morning because “CAN YOU PLEASE TELL REINER TO STOP SNORING? We would but we’re too afraid of being crushed by the weight of his entire body. Thank you! You’re the best, seriously.”

Or when they’re studying and Reiner makes one too many jokes about how he could fuck a Titan, despite Bertholdt’s resigned sighs and you throwing a book at him, and it only gets you, “Keep acting like that and I’ll take a bite out of your juicy ass next, creampie,” and a heat that kisses at your face.

Not even after reclaiming Trost and losing yourself in his arms.

You feel something inside you shatter as the smell of ash tickles at your nose. Walking past the combat medics base they set up for the parameter of the recovery effort, you don’t even look up at any of your friends still left as you walk past. Your entire body burns from the aftermath of Trost, and you wonder if you’ll be able to even get up in the morning as you limp over to a secluded alleyway and lean against the stone.

You don’t know if you’ve ever fought for that long or hard in your life, and you can’t feel your legs anymore as you sink to the floor.

Too many bodies. There are too many bodies.

“Hey.”

Looking up, you pull your mask down when Reiner stands before you. Tearing the fabric off your neck, you draw your knees up and rest your arms on top of them, the mask hanging off your fingers limply. A strange relieving wave washes over you to know he’s still here, even surrounded by so much death.

“Hi,” you murmur. “It’s a lot.”

“Yeah,” he agrees simply, leaning in beside you and sliding down. Their knees knock into one another as he tugs his own mask down. Sweat glistens along his skin and his sleeves are rolled up as he clears his throat. “I’m glad you made it out.”

You smile faintly at him but it flickers out before it can find a place on your face. Looking at your hands, you imagine the rough skin of calluses forming on your palms still and you wish you could rip your gloves off but every part of you is too exhausted to move now. Softly, you tell him, “I’m glad you made it out, too. There are a few of us I haven’t really caught sight of. I know Eren’s squad is dead. I—“ you stop yourself. No way Reiner is interested in the fact that you had taken their deaths in stride because you had to in the moment and now you don’t think you can feel at all— “but… Marco. I haven’t seen him in days. Jean hasn’t seen him either.”

“M-Marco?” Reiner whispers and your eyes lift to look at him. “You haven’t found him yet?” Gaze widening at the colour draining from Reiner’s face, your stomach flips and a dread fills your entire being as you sit upright, your legs sliding down, your arms falling to the ground to prop yourself up. Lungs tightening, your lips part as if to form his name but no sound comes out.

You know what his silence means. His silence is death spelt out in glaring red letters—the same shade as blood.

But Marco?

Why Marco? A caustic voice screams inside you and your nails dig into the cobblestone as Reiner turns his face away, jaw clenching. Trying to breathe, the air stalls in your throat and your gut clenches as your gaze drifts to the street full of combat medics and doctors, other soldiers who still walk. What—what do you mean Marco isn’t one of them? You want to grab Reiner by the jacket, shake him until he makes sense, but instead you search for freckles behind every mask, stumbling to your feet. Marco never did anything wrong. He was supposed to join the MPs. He was our… our leader. He never did anything wrong.

He never did anything wrong. Never. Never. Not Marco. It can’t be. The thought tumbles through your head as you push yourself to your feet but your knees nearly give in on the first step and you stumble to the other side of the alleyway with a harsh noise. Shoulder crashing into the stone, your eyes squeeze tight and hot tears pour down your face as you clench your teeth, trying to chain back the sob that’s working through your body. Head hanging, your mouth pries open as an ugly moan comes out of you, so deep inside you that you want to crumble.

Days seem to pile onto your shoulders until you think your bones will break and your fingers curl into tight fists as you try to stop the tears from falling, but they keep coming, tracing your nose, pushing everywhere and everything is so hot. Shit, you can’t even breathe—

Hands take your shoulders and you let out a ferocious scream, thrashing yourself out of your grip but fingers only slide to your biceps, pulling you away from the wall as your boots slip against the cobblestone and then hands are on your wrists, pushing away your blind fists.

“Let me go! He’s dead, isn’t he?” you scream as he lets go of you for just a second to wrap his arms around you and you let out a shuddering breath as he crushes you in his embrace. “Reiner! Tell me! Marco’s dead!”

“Yes! Yes, he is!”

His words spear through your skull, sending electricity down your spine and your entire body goes limp as he collapses to his knees, you with him. Your arms at your side, your eyes blink open and you feel fresh tears fall down your face as he cups the back of your head, holding you to him and as something wet seeps into your shoulder, it’s as if you are set on fire.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

On their own accord, your arms come up under his and fingers hook onto his shoulders. Chest to chest, you swear your heart beats in a mournful beat with his, and his entire body collapses against yours. Eyes closing, you press yourself closer, hoping that the heat of his body will chase away the cold that’s rapidly spreading through your body.

Reiner’s arm around your waist tightens. You swallow hard against his shoulder.

“Please forgive me,” he whispers against your neck, wet cheek pressing against your jaw, and your chest stutters as you try to remember how to breathe.

“Reiner…”

You barely breathe his name. It only makes him curl tighter against you.

Liberio is colder at night than he remembers. He has to pull the blankets up to his chin, and still, he shivers.

Rolling onto his side, he can nearly imagine you staring back beside him, smiling, hand reaching to touch his face, and his eyes flutter shut when your fingers seem to pass through his cheek.

In his mind, you’re wearing the white blouse and long purple skirt again, long riding boots covering dark pants, innocent smile on your face as you wait for him in the noon sunlight.

By then, he had known there weren’t any devils on Paradis, but he’d never seen an angel until he saw you cast in gold.

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screamingatanemptyroom · 4 years ago

Text

Song of a Mermaid Warrior pt 2

Part 2 to the mermaid story!

Decided to continue it, wanted to see where Jordan's story ends up.

You can read pt 1 here.

Enjoy!

___________________________

“Well, well, well! Never thought I’d see the mermaid herself swimming over to my fetid swamp here in the slums!”

A slim young man with bright purple hair grinned, flipping a silver coin into the air over and over without looking at it. “Thought you said you were never coming back? What, did your last book not sell as well now that you're peddling comforting little lies about your species?”

Jordan leaned against the doorframe of the dilapidated shop, wondering for the thousandth time if this was a bad idea. She knew the answer, deep down, but chose to ignore it. “Tock, cut the crap.”

“Oh sweetie, you haven’t changed. “ Tock laughed. “ I can cut the crap, but not sure what use it would be… crap is notoriously difficult to cut, tends to mush up, you know… and whose crap should be cut? Mine?” He shrugged. “ Sorry to say this body doesn’t make physical waste. What about yours?”

Jordan rubbed her forehead. “I should have known better than to do anything other than speak as literally as possible… I hate fairies.”

“You only know one fairy, darling.” Tock’s eyes blinked, the irises turning green, than orange, than staying at a robin’s egg blue. “Unfair of you to judge the whole species just because you don’t like me. Especially because I have been nothing but fair and helpful to you.”

“You tried to trick me into giving you my skin.”

“TRIED. Tried is the key word there. Plus you didn’t fall for it, so what’s the problem?”

Jordan sighed, knowing that there was never any point with arguing with Tock.

She had run into the fairy over two years ago. At that time she was frantic, trying to find Hunter’s location, and her desperation had led her to the darker corners of the city. She had spent every last coin she had, unable to eat or sleep, and at her darkest moment, she stumbled into Tock’s shop. Later Jordan had realized that it was likely that despair that had allowed her to find his place. There were magic wards to keep all but the most vulnerable out.

When they met, Tock had seen her madness, her obsession, and was ecstatic. He tried to get her to agree to many terrible deals in exchange for tracking down Hunter and after adding a small addendum she had agreed, feeling that whatever price she had to pay was worth it.

In the end, the addendum she had insisted on saved her skin, quite literally. She had added on a time limit that he had to track Hunter down and arrange a meeting. And to Tock’s shock and dismay, whatever elven magic was hiding Hunter’s identity; it was beyond the fairy’s ability to dismantle.

Tock had failed to find Hunter, and the contract expired. Jordan left, at the time feeling a strange mix of disappointment at the failure and gratitude to be still in one piece. As they parted ways, she swore never to come back to his broken place of deals with the devil.

Until today.

“So what brings you here, my lovely little fish?” Tock flipped his coin again, and it sizzled as it disappeared into thin air. “Still trying to find that stubborn elf boyfriend of yours?”

“He was just a friend, and no. I gave up on him years ago.”

Tock frowned, blinking as his eyes turned a bronze color. “Pity. Your skin has only gotten prettier since the last time I saw it… would love to find your price to part with it.”

“…” The memory of Hunter cheerfully making plans to run away with her still hung in her mind. What was it that he had said? “We might lose our clothes and money, but at least we’d have a fun story to tell”? We had no idea what real fairies were like. The ocean’s song in Jordan’s ears was rising, she kept her lips closed to hold back the seductive call of the magic. The fairy noticed her struggle, backing away slightly.

“Fine, fine, no more talk about your skin. Why are you mermaids so sensitive about losing organs?” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Mermaids regenerate, right? Or was that trolls?”

“Tock….” The name was forced out between clenched teeth.

The fairy rolled his eyes, changing them to a pure silver color. “So what deal DO you want to make today, my angry mermaid friend?”

She dug through her pocket handing over a silver badge with a handkerchief. Her touch shouldn’t affect his abilities, but Jordan still didn’t want to touch it. It represented something she had tried to move beyond in the last few years, a part of the past that caused her to wake up sobbing some nights, and to stay up drinking others.

Hunter had been her only friend, the only person in this world she thought she could trust. She had learned the hard way how foolish that trust had been. But once she had finally made peace with that fact, he had sent someone to intrude in her life once more. After forcing her to stay out of his battle, he was inviting her to join him, dangling the one thing he knew she couldn’t resist to get her to agree: the existence of other full blood mermaids.

She wasn’t going to play by his rules. If he was expecting her to run back to his side after forcing her away years ago, he would be sorely disappointed. And if she was going to use the clue he had given her, it was for her reasons and no one else’s. Because for everything he had gotten wrong, Hunter had gotten one thing very right:

She did want to find the mermaids in the city.

Not out of any sense of loyalty or need to find others like her, however. She was simply desperate. The instincts to fight and kill, to use her magic to trap and destroy, grew stronger by the day. Soon she was afraid she’d start killing innocent people. She needed to find a way to control it.

Jordan was hoping that other mermaids would know how.

Maybe other mermaids don’t have this problem. She thought at her darkest moments. Maybe I’m just a killer, a monster.

She tried not to think about that to often.

Tock gingerly picked up the badge, his eyes widening with surprise and turning a glowing violet.

“You always have the best things! Let’s see… silver… It was made several years ago… it had other forms years ago… but the owners of those items died quite violently…” He paused, glancing at her curiously. “Your handiwork, I would guess?”

“No comment.”

“Such an unfriendly fish… good thing you have such pretty skin, otherwise I wouldn’t pay you any attention.” He turned back towards the badge in his hand. “It was made with care and love… quite a pure emotion of care… along with a large amount of hope, all mixed in with the silver as it was reformed… it was part of a set?”

“Yes.” She swallowed uncomfortably, pushing back the memories of a young naïve girl, who thought herself hardened and bitter, carefully making a birthday present for her best friend.

“Can I see the other one?”

She thought of the location of the badge she had once treasured. “No.”

Tock pouted. “Fine. It contains quite a few auras, but the strongest one… is quite familiar.” His eyes turned a bright angry red. “Elf!”

“Yeah, it was Hunter’s.”

“That BASTARD! His blasted elf magic forced me to lose my contract with you!” He tossed the badge to the counter with a disgusted grimace. “You’ll never be that perfect combination of desperate and vulnerable again!” He looked back at me. “You are STILL trying to find that elf who dumped you three years ago? And I thought you had standards.”

The ocean song roared in her ears as it sensed her anger, pushing at her control, leaking from her lips. She could feel it swelling beneath her skin, threatening to force itself out. Tock rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Don’t try your battle magic here. You may be quite terrifying to meet in a dark alleyway, but I have some great wards in place.” He sneered as she kept her lips closed tightly. “Just a word of advice: Don’t face off a fairy in his own home.”

Jordan forced her magic down with great struggle, every instinct wanting to lash out. “I don’t want you to find Hunter. I want to know most frequent locations this amulet has been over the past six months.”

“And that’s not the same thing because…”

“Because it’s not him I’m wanting to find.” If he's found mermaids, then the locations he's been, the people he's spoken to... they'll be clues to track them down.

Tock raised an eyebrow. “Then what ARE you trying to find?”

“None of your business. I just need the locations this object has been most frequently.”

“Very well.” His smile became sly, his eyes shifting away from the angry red to a dark blue. “What deal shall we make for me to do this? How about your skin…”

The last word trailed off as Jordan held up a golden coin.

“…”

_________________________________

The silence in the room stretched on, as Tock’s gaze was locked on the object in her hand. His eye color was shifting rapidly, brown, grey, orange, green, before the whole eye filled with color finally turning a solid, glowing silver. His shoulders twitched, and his teeth grew longer in his mouth, the sharp points pressing into his still human appearing lips.

“Where did you get that?” His whisper had lost all of his previous joking tone. There was a small amount of magic woven into his words, a minor compelling spell to force her to speak, and speak truthfully. It buried itself in her ear, making her thoughts foggy. Jordan smiled, shaking her head as the ocean song within her rose in volume, drowning out the fairy magic easily, keeping her mind clear.

“I’ve picked up a lot of things these past few years.”

“ANSWER. THE. QUESTION.”

“No.” Jordan flipped the coin, mimicking the fairy’s earlier actions. “Don’t try your magic on me, fairy. I’ve had too many years of practice ignoring magical compulsions.”

“Fine.” He sighed loudly. “Do you know what it is you have there? Do you know if there’s any more?”

“I’ve heard stories… tales only whispered in dark alleys and in crumbling basements. Do you know in schools here they teach that the humans are the only ones affected by the Darkness? That losing the ability to have children was the be all and end all of the curse?”

“…” Tock kept silent, staring at her. Shrugging, she continued with a mocking smile.

“What a limited view, right? Turns out that everyone lost something to the Darkness. Every single one. It took whatever that species valued most. For humans, such a short-lived, social people, it was taking away the ability to make new generations. But fairies… you are born of magic and air, part of nature and outside of time. Procreation means nothing to you.” She flipped the coin up, letting it spin in the air before catching it and holding it firmly in her hand. “The Darkness took something much more important to you fairies.”

Tock was trembling at her words, unclear if it was with fear or anger. “What do you think the Darkness took from us?”

Jordan glanced at his empty back. “Your wings.”

“…” The fairy’s hands were gripping the counter in front of him. His fingers sank into the wood as easily as if it was made of clay.

“If it were just something to help you fly, I bet you would have simply made do without them. But they represent something much more important, don’t they?” She leaned closer, ignoring his threatening aura. “That’s where fairies store their magic. So now you have the live with the scraps of magic you absorb from the earth and enchanted items, unable to store it within yourself. That’s why you work here, in this pitiful little shop, unable to do more than hide behind these wards and peddle minor magic tricks for favors.”

“Be careful, mermaid…”

“Oh I’m careful enough, Tock.” She opened her hand and stared at the coin in her palm. “No wonder you wanted my skin… how much magic should be stored within it, I wonder. Enough to last you a few years I would think. Which is why this little coin is so important to you.”

“…”

“Fairy gold.” She held it up again. “Quite pretty, actually, looks like the real thing even on close inspection. But if I were to try to spend it… it would expel all the magic stored inside, turning to wood and taking away my lifetime’s luck. An inconvenience for me… but for you?” She grinned. “It stores enough magic for you to live comfortably for quite some time. You could leave this shop, set up protective wards wherever you ended up. Magic enough to stabilize your appearance so your eyes and ears don’t change; let you blend in if you wanted to leave your house for a change. “

“…”

“So what do you say, Tock.” Jordan flipped the coin one last time. “Do we have a deal?”

After a long pause, the fairy spoke up. “… I …”

“TOCK ARE YOU HERE?!!”

The shop door slammed open and a short redheaded young man burst in. As he rushed to the counter, Jordan got a closer look. He was a few inches shorter than her, his leaner frame still obviously muscular. His facial features were handsome, with bright green eyes that glowed with excitement and fiery red hair that was cropped short. He wore regular clothing, a grey t shirt and jeans, and would have seemed very average except for the massive axe strapped to his back.

Who the heck is this?

“Glit, this isn’t the time.” Tock warned, his tone still angry and tense.

“No, Tock, I’ve been thinking about it… maybe I SHOULD be willing to compromise… exactly how much skin would you need to help me find the dwarves?”

The fairy’s eyes glowed an excited gold, his teeth retracting once more as he stabilized his appearance. “Well now…”

“Add his bill to mine.” Jordan interrupted, glaring at Tock. “No skin.”

“But… that’s unfair! We already had a deal!”

“You didn’t accept it in time, so now the deal has changed. “ She shrugged “The price I’m offering is more than enough to cover us both. I would suggest you take the deal before it changes again.”

Tock glared. “FINE! FINE, I ACCEPT!”

The young man turned to her, shocked. She met his gaze, holding back the urge to sigh. Jordan wasn’t much one for random acts of kindness to strangers, but he reminded her of herself a few years ago. Lost, desperate… the only kind of people who can slip past Tock’s wards. She just wasn’t sure what his reaction would be to her interference… annoyance? Gratitude?’

He grinned at her. “You look really strong! Wanna fight?!”

… Well that certainly hadn’t been the reaction she was expecting.

“Maybe later…”

His shoulders slumped. “Dangit. I was losing hope of meeting a strong person in this awful city… no offense if you like it here.”

“None taken, I don’t.”

“I finally meet someone worthy of a good fight, and I make a terrible first impression.” He sighed. “My Ma always did say I needed to work on my introductions.”

“…And you are?”

His eyes widened. “I haven’t told you that yet?” His hand slapped his forehead. “Sorry, must have been distracted by the whole ‘trading my skin’ thing. I’m Glitenaere ni Tolk Vhelarite, firstborn of Marleiun ge Nerturin, the greatest Dwarven warrior alive… but you can call me Glit!”

She looked over the short young man. “You are the greatest warrior?”

“Nope. My Ma.”

“You’re a dwarf?”

“Since I was born.”

Jordan felt curious, having only ever read about dwarves from human textbooks, which said they were a reclusive, unfriendly race.

The reportedly unfriendly, reclusive dwarf was reaching out to shake her hand. “Thanks for the saving my skin, friend!”

She didn’t take his hand. “Shouldn’t you have a beard?”

Tock burst out into laughter, his eyes turning a humorous magenta. “Wow, way to go straight for the gut.”

“Aww, shut up fairy, she didn’t mean anything by it. Can’t blame her for not knowing in a city like this.” Glit leaned against the counter, rubbing his chin with an idle hand. “I’m a darkling, a child born infected by the Darkness.”

“Every race lost something.” Jordan whispered.

“Not everyone was infected, but those who were never grew beards.” He looked sad for a brief moment. “It’s a symbol of strength, of connection to the Earth… everything in our culture revolves around it.”

“What about the women?”

“Oh they grow them too. You should see my Ma. Her beard makes all the boys cry with jealousy.” Glit laughed. “They all thought with her being the strongest and all, her child would be too… but…”

“…Sorry.”

“Oh don’t worry, friend. I’m not weak. I may not have a connection with the earth and a powerful beard, but I’m a force to be reckoned with when I have an axe in my hand!”

Tock looked up, his eyes turning bright white. “You may have to test that out sooner rather than later. We have company.”

BANG! Something slammed into the closed door behind them.

_________________________________

Jordan took a defensive stance, while Glit drew his axe. “Who’s coming?”

“Probably one of those damn purity obsessed groups. They constantly sweep the slums, looking for low bloods and part elves. Usually the wards keep them away, but today, I got a little… distracted. “

“Great. Not really in the mood to deal with these guys, Tock.”

“They bad guys?” Glit spoke up.

“Yep.” Jordan answered softly. “They do horrible things to those who can’t defend themselves.”

“Fair enough. Today they picked on the wrong type of people, though.” Glit grinned. “Let’s kill them!”

His easy acceptance of the violence they would face ahead gave her a little pause. Before she could examine it too closely, the door crashed open, and a large group of men wearing black cloths around the lower halves of their faces rushed in. In their hands were standard pistols, the dull metal glinting off the many lamps of Tock’s shop.

“Looks like we got a haul, boys!” One of them spotted Glit and Jordan, his eyes widening with shock. “That short one definitely can’t be high purity… he’s either a low blood or a dirty elf mix blood! And the other…” He glanced and Jordan and laughed. “A No Blood? Thought they were all gone!”

Glit twirled the massive axe in his hand with ease, looking confused. “Do I look like an elf?”

Jordan thought of the tall quiet young man who had always followed behind her, always trying to avoid violence. “Not even a little.”

“Ah.” He tossed the axe lightly, catching it with the other hand. “Hey fellas, despite your insults and poor eyesight, I’m gonna be nice. Here’s your one chance to run away, before my strong friend and I start slicing you to pieces.”

Even with the majority of his face covered, the disdain on the attacker’s face was evident. “Shut up, dirty elf! Even with your axe, you really think you can face a group with guns?" He snorted, "Now we’re gonna have fun killing you.”

Glit just laughed at the threat. “I was hoping you guys would say that!”

As the group of attackers spread out around the room, he turned to face one side, leaving his back open to Jordan.

Jordan hesitated briefly at Glit’s open back, startled at the gesture of trust, before slowly turning to cover him. She glanced around to see that Tock had disappeared before closing her eyes, calling up the song within her and setting it free.

From her mouth a song of battle rang out. Several of the attackers stopped in their tracks, caught in her illusion, but the rest were only mildly affected, just barely losing their grips on their weapons.

Jordan cursed silently, still singing. Her magic was very effective against small groups of enemies, but the more people it was spread out against, the less useful it would be.

As the song of death spilled constantly from her lips, she felt her nails grow out into claws and moved forward, striking the attackers that were not incapacitated first. From the side she heard Glit run forward, spinning his axe, blood and tissue flying through the air as he cut through enemies.

Blood dripped from her fingers. She heard someone behind her, preparing to strike and turned, grabbing his neck. She felt the water within his heart, and used her magic to stop it in place. His face turned pale, and clutching his chest, he fell to the ground.

Jordan was feeling the drain of her magic. Her vision was turning a bright blue, the song growing in her mind, calling for her to give in completely.

BANG! A shot rang out past her ear, and sensing the danger, the song surged louder in her soul.

Can’t give up all control to my instincts. She thought grimly, slicing the shooter’s face. I might just lose myself completely.

It was hard, fighting against physical enemies while resisting the magical bind of her own blood, but Jordan forced herself forward, grateful for the help of the dwarf beside her. If she had faced all these enemies by herself, she might have lost to the bloodlust within her.

The air was filled with blood and screams.

And then… there was silence.

__________________________________

Jordan’s vision cleared as she forced the song of the ocean down, keeping it tightly controlled within herself. Her nails retracted and she stood in place, staring down at the blood on her hands.

Hunter always said he didn’t want me to be a killer. She closed her eyes briefly with pain. She felt dirty, worthless. Maybe if I wasn’t one he wouldn’t have left me behind.

Lost in her thoughts, she only came out of it as she felt a warm touch on her hands. Shocked, her eyes flew open, only to see Glit pushing a large wet cloth into her grasp.

“Here, friend, you can clean your hands with this.”

She paused, unused to the kindness, but took it anyways. “Thanks.”

“No problem! You’re amazing! That battle song… had magic in it right? Are you not human?”

“Mermaid.” The word came out before she could stop it, and Jordan pressed her lips together, annoyed. He’s a stranger. No need to tell him anything more. She tucked the dirty rag in her pocket, not wanting to give Tock a free sample of her blood.

“Really? I thought they had all disappeared!” Glit’s face lit up. “My Ma always said that the mermaids were the only warriors she wouldn’t want to face up against! That’s awesome!”

She glanced at the dismembered bodies on his side of the room. “You’re not such a bad fighter yourself.”

His smile brightened. “Really? Thanks! Those guys back home thought I was pretty useless, being a Darkling and all, but if a mermaid warrior says so, I’ll trust your opinion!”

“This is all very touching… but what am I supposed to do about the mess you made?” Tock’s annoyed tone caught their attention.

“We fought off your attackers while you hid in the back, fairy.” Jordan raised an eyebrow. “You can worry about the mess. You’re lucky we don’t charge you for the service.”

“Yeah, what she said!” Glit crossed his arms, standing at her shoulder, and smiled at Tock, the still bloody axe in his hand making the gesture threatening.

Tock rolled his now yellow eyes. “Fine. While you two were gleefully tearing those idiots to pieces, I finished the tasks you gave me.” He spread a map on the counter, ignoring as the far corner was stained with blood. Jordan recognized it as a map of the city. With a golden pen the fairy circled a few buildings. “Here’s where the amulet has spent the most time in the last six months, in order of most time spent.”

She glanced over at Glit beside her. “And the dwarves?”

“Tougher, since he doesn’t have a possession from the dwarves in question, but…” He picked up a silver marker, and circled one place. “There is a high concentration of earth magic here.”

Glit and Jordan stared at the spot, where silver and gold overlapped.

“Looks like me might be looking for the same place.” She whispered.

“Really? That’s great, friend!” He paused. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Jordan. But I don’t think we’re friends. I don’t trust anyone.” Not anymore.

“Jordan!” He grinned. “Don’t worry, we can still be friends. You don’t have to trust me. I’ll trust you enough for the both of us.”

Tock groaned. “You’re so naïve… why couldn’t you have shown up when the mermaid wasn’t around?! I could have extorted you for so much skin!”

Jordan grabbed the map silently, unsure of how to respond to the dwarf’s enthusiasm.

“If you’re going there, can we go together? I’m looking for a large group of dwarves that disappeared, we think they might be being held captive in the city.”

“…You really shouldn’t trust people so easily.” Her words came out as a pained whisper.

Glit’s face became solemn for the first time since they met. “It’s okay. I’ve grown up in a world that hates me. It’s not been easy, but over the years, I’ve developed a good sense of those around me, and what kind of people they are.”

“And kind of person do you think I am?” She was genuinely curious what the cheerful dwarf thought of her.

“You? Well, you’re someone who cares too much and wishes you wouldn’t. My guess is that you’ve been hurt very badly by someone you trusted… and now you would never wish that same pain on another person.” He shrugged. “So that’s why I trust you. You might kill me if you have to, but you’ll do it facing me. You won’t stab me in the back. You couldn’t bear to do that to someone after what you’ve been through.”

“Interesting opinion.” Jordan felt a strange mixture of despair and relief at his words. “Not put off by me killing men while they’re stunned by magic? That wasn’t just a fight…I’m a killer.”

“Hmm… well, I just chopped up six guys with an axe, and the only reason they didn’t shoot a bunch of holes in me is because of your magic, so I’m pretty sure I can’t judge.” Glit patted her on the back. “Are you looking for mermaids, like I’m looking for dwarves?”

She nodded silently, although silently she thought their reasons for looking were quite different.

“Then let’s go find our people together! You don’t have to trust your back to me, but don’t worry! I’ll defend it anyways.”

“Can you two leave?" Tock rubbed his face tiredly, his eyes flickering between purple and pink. "This touchy feely stuff is bad for my business. What if some desperate fool walks in and is inspired by all your motivational speaking?”

Jordan tossed him the fairy gold, taking back the silver badge she had given him, and turned and left the shop. “Never coming back, Tock.”

“Keep telling yourself that, my fishy friend!” He called back. “You’ll come back. They always do.”

“Okay then! See you later, Tock!” Glit called out as he walked behind her.

“…Actually, I would prefer it if YOU don’t come back. You give me a headache.”

Jordan and Glit left the carnage filled shop behind them

_________________________________

“So mermaids and dwarves being held in the center of the city.” Glit thought out loud. “Some sort of human conspiracy?”

Jordan thought of growing up in the orphanage, the city’s emphasis on having higher purity of mermaid blood rather than human, the complete lack of information on other races. She thought of Hunter and the underground Resistance. Of the Darkness that spread everywhere, touching every species.

Everyone lost something to the darkness, right?

So what did mermaids lose?

... What did I lose?

“There’s something broken about this world, more going on here then we realize.” Jordan answered softly. “But we’re going to figure it out.”

“Together?”

“For now.”

“Awesome!” He pumped a fist in the air. “Wait until I tell my Ma I went on a quest with a mermaid warrior. She’s gonna be so impressed!” He paused. “You two would get along, I think. Strong warrior types and all.”

Jordan sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Why does everyone keep sighing around me?”

“… Let’s go. “

_________________________________

They moved quietly towards the place marked on the map. Glit, surprisingly, activated a hidden mechanism on his axe, folding it into thirds and hiding it in a backpack, and pinned on a “34” badge. He saw her glance at the silver ornament and shrugged. “Snatched this off some guy who tried to mug me when I arrived in town. Most people think I’m just a low purity level student when I’m dressed like this .”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“…” Older than me? Jordan adjusted her mental view of him silently.

“Don’t worry if you thought I was younger.” He raised his hands helplessly. “No beard and the dwarven height tends to confuse people.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries, as long as you don’t think I’m weak and helpless just because I’m shorter than you.”

She thought of him cutting through enemies with his axe. “No chance of that.”

They made they way to the abandoned factory that Tock had marked for them. As they neared the area, Glit pulled out a machine from his bag waving it through the air.

“What’s that?”

“Dwarven machine, it detects the presence of magic.” He frowned. “We need to be careful. This whole place is covered with spells.”

“If this was a human holding place…”

“It shouldn’t have magic.” He finished her thought. “Maybe go up to the roof and enter from there instead?”

They scaled the wall silently, cutting a small hole in the roof with yet another tool from Glit’s bag. As she peered into the building, she felt the ocean’s song start welling up within her.

“There’s danger here. We should go back and regroup.”

“Jordan, look out!” Glit pushed her to the side, wincing as the blow from behind her struck his head instead.

Jordan opened her mouth to release her magic, but before a sound could escape, a hand grasped her arm and magic flooded her body.

“Sleep.” The voice was familiar, but her mind was already falling into darkness.

Jordan woke up on a couch in a dark room. Groaning, she rubbed her head, feeling angry. She knew this feeling, this hung over dizzy sensation. Remembered it too clearly even though she wished she could forget.

“Elven magic.”

Glit groaned from his sprawled position in the corner of the room, his arms and legs tied tightly. The ropes dug into his skin, but he ignored it as he flipped his body into a sitting position on the floor, looking up at her with a sad expression. “Sorry I missed them behind us.”

“It’s fine, thanks for taking that hit for me.” She glanced at the wound on his head, crusted with dried blood, and winced. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a friendly tap. I’ve got a hard head.” He grinned, then looked around. “Real question is, who has us, and why?”

“I have an idea... but I really hope I’m not right.”

“You always did have good instincts, Jordan.”

The familiar voice spoke up from the doorway, Jordan forced herself to sit up on the couch, staring at their captor with a pained expression.

She knew him.

Of course she knew him.

He had set his trap, sent her his badge, knowing she would use it… and she had fallen for it.

The man who haunted her nightmares smiled sadly at her. “Not happy to see me?”

She blinked, shaking her head slowly. “Hello again, Hunter.”

#writing #fantasy #violence #elves #mermaids #dwarves #fairies #apocalypse #action #part 2 is here!#Will answer asks with next pfts part

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