#the blue light adds a nice touch i think

[sazand0ra]

started doing a 100 faces challenge!! here are the first 4....

[oceantornadoo]

ch 1 of the wrong john: masterlist | next

john price x f!reader (johnny's twin)

--

You figure one whiskey in the fancy bar across from your hotel can’t hurt.

Johnny put you up in a nice hotel, considerate with all the travel and logistics it took to get here. Two days of your PTO gone, an almost-argument with the gate agent who lost your luggage, chasing down an AirTag with said luggage, and a very uncomfortable taxi ride. But it was fine. It was for Johnny.

Johnny: the brother, the twin, you hadn’t seen face-to-face in over a year. The one who got in a screaming match with your Catholic family last Christmas over who he can love. Nevermind the sacrifices he makes for the safety of the world, it’s where he puts his dick that matters to them. You told him it was bullshit and thus remained the only family member he contacts. You were worried for a second that he’d group you in with them, would sever your holy twin connection for it, but you should have remembered who you were thinking about. If anything, you’d do that to Johnny before he did it to you, a fact you both pretended did not exist. That scrappy self-awareness that somehow only you had been born with, mistaking protection with isolation. So when he said he had a slow week, said he had a partner (a boyfriend!) he wanted you to meet, you couldn’t say no. That was as good as siding with your family.

The meeting was tomorrow (“1000 sharp, m'eudail. Come t’ base an’ we’ll show ye around. Yer gonna love Simon, ‘es all claws like you.”) For the oddest reason, you were nervous. It wasn’t like Johnny needed his family’s approval, if anything, you needed to meet the approval of his found family. The one he created when he left, the one he was slowly opening to you like a secret garden. One sense of a parasite and the gate would be locked forever. He never said as much, too happy-go-lucky for that, but you could sense the protectiveness behind his words during glitchy monthly phone calls. “Price, Gaz, an’ there’s the L.T. Calls himself Ghost but ‘es more bark tha’ bite. You’ll see, m'eudail.” And so you ordered a whiskey to quell the nerves.

“Miss, a drink for you.” The bartender placed a gin and tonic down that was certainly not what you ordered. “I’m sorry, I wanted a whiskey? You can take this back, I haven’t touched it, I swear.” He shook his head, reaching down to grab a whiskey glass. “‘S from the gentleman on the corner. Told me to say our gin is better than our whiskey, which I disagree with, but whatever pays the tips.” He placed a glass of whiskey (on the rocks) in front of you. “Both are on the house, courtesy of your admirer. Let me know if ya need anything or he bothers you.” You nodded your thanks, glancing around for this mystery man. The bar wasn’t too packed but with a game of football on, there were more single men than not.

Finally, you felt a pair of eyes on you, sticking to the back of your head like honey. You turn and there he is, icy blue eyes and a lumberjack look, bearded in flannel. He’s broad and he knows it, carrying himself with the grace of self-confidence. To add to it, he’s sitting alone in a back corner table, perfect view of all exits (like how Johnny told you to look for one tipsy night eons ago.) When you catch his eyes, he raises a glass, giving you a glimpse of hands you want to examine. Are they soft or worn? What about his beard? You promised yourself a drink to settle you nerves, a bubble bath and lights out before 11, but he’s throwing a wrench into your plans. It feels like foreshadowing, to what you don’t know.

“Bit rude to tell the bartender you don’t like his whiskey. Doesn’t give a good first impression.” Somehow, your feet took you over to his table without your permission. You’re standing while he’s sitting and somehow you’re still tilting your head to meet his eyes. They’re darker than they were on first glance, swimming with something that sends a shiver down your spine. You purposefully take a sip of whiskey, your gin and tonic abandoned at the bar, to will that feeling away.

“Jus’ givin’ some advice to a pretty traveler. Can’t have y’ thinkin’ this part of London has no drinks f’ a woman like you.” You find a gray hair in his beard and track it to the curve of his lips as he speaks, taking in the small details you couldn’t see from the bar. Like the way his eyes crinkle in a world-weary manner or the gruffness of his tone, like he’s used to giving orders rather than initiating conversation. It’s your new mission to unpeel the layers of this man tonight.

“And how did you know I’m a traveler? Could be a local for all you know.” He snorts, and in any other man, the arrogance would put you off, but it’s somehow attractive on him. “Well, sweetheart, everyone’s payin’ attention t’ Arsenal playin’ an’ y’ve barely given ‘em a glance. And any local worth their salt knows the whiskey here is watered down an’ grimy.” You take a sip of your drink, again, to prove a point, biting back a grimace at the taste. You can’t let him win.

“Does that make you a local?” Gracefully, he ignores how you could barely swallow down the last drop in your cup. Instead of answering, he signals the bartender for two gin and tonics, then gestures at you to sit in the other seat at his table. His silent command, and consequential dismal of your question, pulls at a string in your belly you didn’t know existed. Perhaps it’s the whiskey.

“Nah, ‘v been around. Been in London for work a while an’ hav’ learned about whiskey choices the hard way. And you? Not from ‘ere, can tell by the accent.” You write that down in your imaginary notebook, hoping a whiskey enthusiast doesn’t equal a reliance on alcohol. You’re fast to determine red flags, especially with strangers. “From Scotland but haven’t been home in a while so the accent’s a bit over the place. What’s your work?”

He takes a sip of the newly arrived gin and tonic, savoring the taste with his tongue. It darts out to catch a drop the edge of his lip and you’re hit with visions of where else he could put it. God, you don’t even know his name yet. “Security consultant. Protectin’ whatever they pay me to protect. An’ you?” It’s a lie. His eyes don’t stray from your face but your bullshit-o-meter is ringing somewhere. You let him have it, deciding a lie for a lie is the best way to go.

“I’m interviewing with a company around here, so I’m currently in between jobs. But I trade in corporate bullshit.” He chuckles, smooth and low like good whiskey, and it’s enough that you forgive the lie, letting it gather dust in the back of your mind. “My name’s John, sweetheart. An’ yours?” You murmur it sweet and slow, fluttering your lashes to lock in the deal. It’s near 10 now, and you don’t want to be yawning when you meet Johnny tomorrow. You have a feeling the man in front of you could keep you up all night if you let him.

John pulls your chair into his until your thighs are slotted in between each other like puzzle pieces. “Got any plans tonight?” You shake your head no, pressing your leg into his own. The harsh denim of his jeans scrapes against your well-worn ones, reminding you of how rugged he seems. You want to see how untamed he can be, and your panties dampen at the thought.

“Well, John,” you overemphasize the last syllable of his name to make sure he’s paying attention. “My hotel is across the street if you need to expand your London knowledge. Really give you that local aura.” His thumb grazes your knee, stroking against the grain pattern. “Sounds good t’ me, sweetheart. Let’s give it a go.”

–

Few thoughts:

m'eudail - my darling, my dear

The base is on the outskirts of London but the hotel is in the city because I said so.

I don’t know anything about London football, Arsenal was the first team that showed up. Thanks google

This was all build up but the next chapter will have some smut! 

This is more for a plot based audience so here’s my AO3 if you’d like to subscribe

Comment if you want to be tagged 🙂

[pearlzier]

────⠀ ⠀cowboy!matt x farmer's daughter!reader

based off this bot here. cowboy!matt my beloved. warnings / smut, oral (m!receiving), naive!reader, virgin!afab!reader, p in v, pet names (sugar, darlin', sweet girl, baby, pretty baby etc.) i know nothing about horses so like. THIS IS LONG 😭😭 no clue how many words idk long. cum on. ass !!!!!

"you've got a good heart, darlin'," matt's voice is gentle, warm. characterised by that accent, words oozing out of his mouth like fresh honey. his blue eyes linger on you for a moment, he's trying hard to not rake them over you, to look over your curves beneath the denim of your overalls. you're adorable. the bows on the buttons and all. he's taken a little off guard by the sight of you looking at him with those soft features, his attention grabbed again by your words.

you let out a soft squeak when he grasps at your chin gently, calloused fingers from hard work against your skin. a small smile adorns your lips at the touch, eyes searching his for a moment. matt wishes the absolute best for you, he really does. he wants to ruin you—but maybe also take you away from this shitty farm. "just.. wanted to be nice, 'n' helpful, y'know?" you tell him, rolling your shoulders in a shrug.

"but thank you," you add afterwards, a giggle bubbling from your lips. matt feels that familiar pang of warmth in his heart at the sight and sound of it.

fuck, he's done for.

he notices how quiet you are, seemingly nervous and thinking of something to say. a small smirk adorns his lips for a moment. he goes to speak. however you get to it first—"what's their name?" matt glances over and sees you're staring at his horse. a soft gleam sparkles in his eyes and he's more than happy to tell you whatever you please about his best girl.

the smile on his face grows wider at your interest, and he adjusts his cowboy hat, looking back at his mustang too. "mmh? 'er name's angel, my pretty little mustang, hm?" he lifts a hand to brush over her mane, quiet for a minute before he looks back over to you. "wanna brush her f'me, darlin'?" he asks, already rummaging in his saddle bag for the brush.

your eyes light up instantly, and you're practically finding the brush for him with how excited you are. "yeah, please?" your head nods fervently, fingers fiddling with the straps of your overalls as you eye the brush he comes up with.

there's a soft, breathy laugh that escapes him at your excitement at the prospect of brushing his angel. a soft hum comes from him and he nods his head. he swears he can feel his heart aching in his chest with every glance at you. you're too cute. he's gonna pick you up and never let you go, he swears.

"all yours, sugar," he tells you, smiling as he hands the brush to you. he holds the eye-contact, searching your gaze for a minute. "be real gentle, now," his words are soft, voice warm as he guides you over to angel. "she's a sweet girl, the sweetest, but she'll get antsy if you're too rough. she's a diva like that. got it, baby?"

honestly, you know exactly how to brush a horse since you do it nearly every damn day on your dad's farm, however because he sounds so sweet and is beinf so sweet, plus he called you baby? yeah, you'll pretend like you've bever seen a horse in your entire life. taking the brush, you nod your head, "got it," the feel of his hands on your arms makes a warmth flutter in your stomach.

this is his horse, so you're extra careful with angel, murmuring quietly, "you're really pretty," as if the horse could hear you. this makes matt's heart melt where he is, and his tongue darts out to lick over his bottom lip for a moment. matt leans back against the wooden fence, both hands grasping at the top as he watches you brush angel's sleek coat, his blue eyes fluttering over the two of you. his best girls.

"gettin' all loved up on her, ain't you, sweet girl?" he muses quietly, his words are light hearted, eyes tracking your every movement.

"i love her," you affirm, a smile playing on your lips once more as you look to angel again. she's whinnying and leaning towards your touch, content beneath the brush. when you look back at matt, you murmur, "she's adorable." matt nods in agreement, a soft sigh escaping him.

when you're done, you look the mustang over for a minute, glance back at matt, then back again. you're quiet again, thinking about what it'd be like to ride her, but you shake yourself out of your thoughts soon after. matt's brows cock for a moment. "she's the prettiest, ain't she?" he takes back the brush, putting it onto the fence by where he was before he steps up behind you. he can't help but place his hands on your hips.

he draws you back against him, squeezing at your hips for a moment with draws the line between appropriate and well, inappropriate, a lot closer. "you wanna ride her, don't you, sugar?" he feels you relax against him, almost immediately, and he meets your gaze for a minute. seeing you nod, a soft, amused smile settles on his lips again. "daddy doesn't let me ride our horses," a frown settles on his lips at your words.

another quiet hum rumbles in his chest when he feels you lean against him. matt's grip on your hips tightens, and he's resisting the urge to tug you back against him.

"course can, pretty girl," he says gently, tilting your head up for a minute. "daddy ain't here. i am. so, c'mere, now. let me help you up."

you're practically beaming when he says that. he's so damn sweet, you're realising. maybe you really are into cowboys. and really, you hadn't met many guys before, but regardless, he's so damn sweet. "daddy ain't here, you are," you agree, nodding your head. you can get with that logic.

god damn it, you're sweet.

"atta girl," he murmurs, coaxing you closer to angel. he had to admit he's having some very impure thoughts the moment he gets his hands on you, helping you up onto angel's saddle. he's quiet for a minute. you look so damn good up there, on his mustang. thank god for these cowboy pants because damn, he's straining a little here.

he wanted to settle you somewhere other than the saddle, definitely.

matt hops up too, sitting behind you. his chest comes flush against your back, the urge to run his hands over your body is palpable but he holds off. he sees the way you shiver a little, and he asks, "you doin' good, darlin'?" his words are soft. "not gettin' scared, are you?"

admittedly, yeah, you are. you feel so tall and high up, having never been at this height before. however the feel of angel beneath you, unmoving, not budging, makes you feel better. and matt's hands on you too. "ain't gonna let you fall, baby. i'll take good care of you."

"okay," you nod your head, leaning back against matt. feeling angel start to move beneath you, you grasp onto the reins. the mustang trots beneath the two of you, making some ground as she wanders about a bit. this makes you relax, it isn't as scary as you thought. besides, matt behind you, holding you tight, there's no way you'd get hurt.

matt could barely focus with your body against his, ass flush against his crotch and practically grinding back against him every minute or so. but he knew he had to be responsible and keep you safe, so he tries to calm the thoughts running through his head at that moment. thinking about how he wanted you bent over a hay bale beneath him wasn't exactly a good idea considering he had your safety to focus on. "you like it?"

you can feel matt's hands on your stomach, warm and gentle. his voice is low in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and your hands tightening on angel's reins. "feels good, pretty thing?" he murmurs, and you nod, though unsure whether he was talking about riding around on angel or his touch on your body. albeit, it's definitely both. "yeah," you say quietly to his words, glancing around the field idly for a moment. "daddy shoulda' let me ride horses earlier, this is amazin'."

the farm looked so pretty. the sunset glowing down onto the grass and the two of you, the fruit trees swaying idly and the faint sounds of the animals in the barn only adding to everything. plus, you had a cute cowboy helping you ride his horse. it's the most free you'd been in.. well, ever.

a shiver goes down his spine too at how relaxed you are, how gentle your words are. his mind's spinning, you're so damn soft. it's like you're meant to be against him, your body moulding perfectly into his. he keeps his hand firm against your stomach, before he speaks up again.

"you know.." that gets your attention and you look back at him, "i wanna show you somethin', pretty baby, you trust me?"

despite the fact that that you'd only talked to matt a little bit, this being your first ever proper meeting, you did trust him. perhaps you were naïve (you are) but you were enjoying his company and he radiated warmth. "uh, yeah, alrighty," might also be the warmth of his hands against you clouding your judgement but he does seem genuinely caring and compassionate. "i trust you."

a grin settles on his face the moment he sees your agreement, and he gently encases your hands on angel's reins, bringing his body closer against yours. that's it, you're doing so well.

"s'not far," he assures you, spurring angel forward so she leads the two of you away from the farm. you glance back almost immediately, lashes fluttering against your cheeks. it's getting late out, but you were sure matt'd bring you back before your daddy started to worry, so you settle against angel and continue riding.

you couldn't remember the last time you'd been outside the farm, to be completely honest. and you're sure matt can feel the excitement rolling off of you as angel leads you both further and further from the farm. the sun is setting, slowly but surely, purpley pinks and golden oranges glowing down on you. matt's eyes drift over you, how damn pretty you look under the sun's rays. he's so taken by you. finally, the two of you make it to a little clearing. though, in the centre is an old, worn down barn. how charming.

matt helps you off the horse, hands grasping at your waist as he sets you down onto the grass. "s'got character," you say, finding the nice things in the otherwise.. a tad bit run down exterior. maybe he's thinking too far ahead, he could be, but he could imagine you and him fixing up the place, making it your own one day. the two of you admire it for a moment, the charm and whimsy of it.

he keeps his hands on your waist despite the fact he doesn't need to, his hands smoothing over the denim of your overalls. his grip keeps you against his chest, and he's quiet, just taking you in. "right, c'mere," he says finally, urging you foreard with a nudge of your hips and coaxes you forward with a nod of his head towards the barn. "wanna show you somethin' inside, baby."

you glance up at him, brows cocking with curiosity, "what've you got in an ol' barn like this?" your eyes dart around for a moment, just looking at the surroundings. matt lets out a quiet chuckle at your words, because you're right, an old barn like this? not much going on. but he silently leads you inside, knowing you're completely unaware of his thoughts at that moment. or any of the moments prior.

it's basically pitch black inside despite the flickering rays of fading sunset peeking in from the top windows. you can't see much, if anything at all, eyes having not adjusted to the darkness yet. matt, however, can see perfectly fine at that moment. as a cowboy, he'd seen his fair share of the dark already.

the inside is basically bare, some old couches, hay bales, dirt on the floors and scattered wood, straw too. he can see your mind working in the darkness, and his hands on you are gentle, reassuring that you're fine. he guides you forward slowly, till you bump into a bench, and end up sat down. you try to meet his gaze in the darkness, however it's a little fruitless considering you can't see shit. "matt?" your words are soft, curious.

matt moves directly in front of you, pushing between your legs so that they spread out to accomodate him. now you can see him better, a sliver of light behind him making his figure clearer to your eyes.

"you trust me, sweetheart?" he asks once more, and of course, you nod once more too. his hands come and clasp yours, fingers interlacing with yours. bringing your hands up to his chest, he splays your fingers against him. matt's hot breath fans against your face. "of course you do," he murmurs quietly, smiling gently at the sight of you.

you watch as he slowly leads your hands over his body, hot, warm and firm beneath your hands. matt guides your hands down to his stomach, and you pause there, his blue eyes darting to yours. "keep going," his voice is low and quiet, "lower, honey."

now, your hands ease over him, over his hips to feel the plaid fabric of his shirt end and shift to the cold metal and hot leather of his belt. your fingers brush his belt buckle, and he looks at you once more. "undo it," he coos, "undo my belt."

"i've never.." you go to warn him, but he knows, he knows and he's okay with the fact that you've never done this with a guy before. as he watches you undo his belt, tugging it from the loops, a soft smile settles on his lips. your breathing picks up, chest rising up and down in quickened breaths. it's a good look on you, all breathless and needy.

"that too," he brushes his fingers over your face, touching your skin gently when he sees you undoing his jeans. as soon as he tells you to, you do it, and that makes heat warm his abdomen. matt strokes his thumb over your neck, head tilting to the side. "pull 'em down. there's a girl, that's it," he shivers a little, as do you, as you pull down his jeans, a breeze hitting his thighs.

"you like what you're seein', baby?" he stands above you, wearing his plaid shirt and boxers. matt grasps at your hands once more and he guides them over his bare thighs, a low grunt escaping him.

you had to admit he's good looking. so good looking. you may have been sheltered your entire life but you'd, of course, watched a hell of movies before. and he's like prince charming, the way he treats you, so gently and patiently. "uh-huh," you mutter, shifting your weight where you're sat. "you look.. good."

"just good?"

"uh, really good. like.. woah," that makes him laugh, and he tilts his head for a moment, as he guides your hands now to the waistband of his boxers. curling your fingers into the fabric, he mumbles, "god, you've got such soft hands."

"i do?" feels like you haven't done a single bit of hard labour in your life.

"every part of you's soft, sweet girl," that's true. he knows it, you know it. he squeezes your hands over his boxers, grunting quietly as your palm brushes over the front. he's straining against the fabric already, not wanting to stain them with a wet patch he knows is impending. "pull these down for me," he lets you tug at the elastic, groaning when you finally tug them down.

the way you obey literally instantly, without any hesitation, makes his blood throb. especially as his cock comes free from his boxers, aching and leaking from the tip. precum oozes from the head, and he watches the way your eyes linger on him. "you ever touch a man like that before, sweetheart?"

"no," you shake your head, not sure what to do with your hands now. you're trying so hard not to look down between his legs, but it's practically impossible. a soft smirk settles on his lips and he hums, "never?"

"never," you agree quietly, your chest rising and falling in more picked up breaths. matt's intimidating in a gentle, caring way, if that makes sense. he's so much of those things that it's intimidating.

"m'gonna teach you. y'alright with that, honey? we ain't gotta do nothin' y'don't wanna do."

that makes you relax a lot more and you consider it, "nothin' i don't wanna do?" you confirm, and when he nods, you offer your hand. you notice how his eyes gleam almost instantly, and the speed in which he takes your hand into his. "there y'go," he says quietly, wrapping your hand around his shaft slowly. it twitches in your hand a little, and he lets out a throaty swallow. "wrap that pretty hand around me, that's it."

"like this?" you wanna do this perfectly for him, perfect. your fingers wrap around him, all gentle. he watches you for a minute, before he speaks up again.

"y'know how to give a man pressure, darlin'?" you're quiet for a moment, before you have a spark of confidence and tighten your grip on him ever so slightly, and he lets out a quiet, strangled moan from his throat. "like that?" your head cocks to the side a little, and he nods his head once more.

"just like that," his voice comes out deeper than he means for it to. the moment you start to stroke him, his head tips back a little and his lips part to let out a low sound. "keep at it, baby, just like that.." matt mutters, fingers brushing over your cheek gently.

as you start getting a hang of things, your hand pumps his cock a little faster and more proper. eyes lifting to his, you smile gently, a little proud one. he was proud of you too, really damn proud. "does it.. feel good?" does it feel good? 'course it fucking does.

"you're a natural, sweet," matt agrees quietly, hips stuttering a little towards your warm hand to try chase the pleasure you're giving him. a quiet grunt escapes him and he shifts his weight, chest rising and falling in quickened breaths too. the fact you're so eager makes his heart race, makes even more precum ooze from the tip and onto your hand.

he's quiet for a minute, before he mutters, tone lilted with gentle curiosity. "you wanna try somethin' else, baby? think you'd be a real natural at that too, hm?" he murmurs, an amused sound escaping him.

"mhm?" you look up at him, biting your bottom lip for a moment before you release it as your lips part. you search his gaze, and matt smiles, coaxing you to look at him properly. he looks down at you through his lashes, "open y'mouth for me.. look at you, doin' so well." your lips part, mouth open as soon as he asked.

his thumb drops to your bottom lip, brushing over it. you're so damn pretty, the way he looks you up and down making your stomach flutter almost instantly. he steps infront of you, letting the head of his cock brush against your lips gently. matt wraps his hand around his base, giving himself a few languid strokes. "keep that pretty mouth nice and open," he tells you, words soft.

your eyes fall down to his cock infront of your mouth, feeling his warmth so close to you, and a soft moan escapes you. when your hot breath hits his tip, his hips stutter forward a little bit instinctively. "tongue out," he watches you stick your tongue out and he gives himself a few more strokes, a quiet grunt slipping past his lips. "such a good girl. so damn good."

you look so good down there, eyes soft and curious as they search his. matt bites his lip for a minute, slowly tapping his cock against your inviting tongue. damn it, you look so good. so, so fucking good. letting his free hand come up to the back of your head, he brings you closer to him. "gonna put myself in, alright? don't worry. remember, okay? breathe through your nose, relax your mouth."

he watches as you do what he'd said, relaxing your mouth as best as you can. you're absolutely wracked with nerves, but he's making it easier for you, not as bad as you thought it'd be. matt's dying to feel the inside of your warm mouth. he's quiet for a minute, "don't have to take all of me, alright? take as much as you can," before he starts easing himself into your mouth, a shuddering breath slipping past his lips.

employing what he'd told you immediately, you relax your throat and mouth, starting to breathe through your nose as opposed to your mouth. "that's it, shit, there we go, darlin', pretty, pretty mouth.." you gag the tiniest bit, and he pauses, "you alright? want me to stop?"

"no, no, no, no—" you mumble around his throbbing length, and he lets out a quiet laugh.

"alright, alright, i got you," he eases himself further, till you tell him to stop. "there we go, takin' practically all of me, hm? that's it, relax.. don't wanna hurt you," matt coos, rubbing your cheek for a minute. perfect. you look absolutely perfect with his cock down your throat, and he has half a mind not to start thrusting into your mouth, but he's promised to teach you gently.

when you go to speak, he shakes his head, "ah, ah, no, honey, just.. just feel it for me, make me feel good," he slowly eases himself back, "gonna start moving, okay? tell me if you wanna stop." with that, and your nod which inadvertently bobs your head on him, he starts moving his hips back and forth. the length of his cock disappears between your lips with every thrust, a ring of saliva slowly forming around fhe base of his shaft. "doing so good, got a perfect mouth. never done this before, baby? i'd beg to fuckin' differ, shit.."

any nerves you had prior practically dissipate with how good he's reacting to what you're doing to him. his grip onnthe back of your head tightens, and he's grunting with his every thrust and bob of your head, his own falling back a little. "face of 'n' angel but mouth of a sinner... my god.." he whimpers quietly, his lips parted with his breaths.

if he could keep at this, he would, he really would. he'd use your mouth to get over the edge a million times and he'd cum all over you—your face, your.. he's getting a bit ahead of himself now, he knows. so he gently taps your cheek and pulls himself out for a moment, a grunt escaping him.

you look worried, confused, as if he didn't like it or had some critique. "was i—was i doing it wrong?" you look so genuinely upset that he has to quickly console you that no, he's fine, great, amazing even, and he just wants your warm cunt instead of your mouth.

"no, no, you're doing perfectly," you really are, he feels so fucking good. he fists his cock a few times, a shiver running down his spine before he gestures to you. "take those overalls off for me, alright?" you're so eager to, you practically rip off the buttons. you slip your overalls off your body and you know for a fact that matt likes the look of you, the sight of your lacy little bra and dainty panties clinging to your hips.

"c'mere, come.. c'mere," matt growls, practically lifting you from where you're sat as he looks around for somewhere to bend you over. he finds a hay bale, in which he unbuttons his shirt and lays it out so you don't get scratched up all that much by the hay. in seconds, he's got you bent over.

"wait, wait—" your words cause matt to stop instantly, fingers releasing the elastic of your panties. his eyes dart to yours, and he looks worried that he'd hurt you or something. "be gentle, please?" he relaxes almost instantly, and he smiles, "i got you, baby. i'll be gentle."

his hand smoothes over your ass, squeezing at it for a minute before he mumbles, "can i take this pretty pair off you, baby?" he sees how you're quiet for a minute before you nod, and he grins as he eases them off your soft thighs. the sight of your pretty, puffy pussy makes his dick throb between his thighs once more, twitching. a string of your arousal clings to your panties from your hole, and that only serves to make him want you more.

"please," you say quietly, weakly. matt hums quietly, letting his fingers ghost over your folds. he swipes a finger through your wetness, seeing whether he'd need to loosen you up for him. he knew you'd be tight but you were wet enough he could probably push right in without much resistance, if any at all. "yeah? need me?" he coos quietly, his hand slowly wrapping back around his cock as he slowly rubs himself against your cunt. the quiet, wet sounds your core makes makes him groan.

"hold on tight, okay? real tight for me," you grasp at the hay as best as you can, feeling it scratch at your hands a little. but the pleasure he's about to give you outweighs any thoughts of getting your hands a little scuffed. the feel of his tip pushing into your wet hole has your knees buckling beneath you, and he slides his free hand underneath you to hold you up. "matt," you whine out, quietly, and he coos, "i know, i know. feels big, huh? you feel tight, honey, so tight 'n' warm."

he pushes in slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you anymore than you already are. matt's eyes flutter shut for a second along with your own, when he bottoms out, and he grasps at your hips tightly with an almost bruising grip. "can i—"

"yeah, please, oh.. please.." well, if you're that eager. he rocks his hips back before he pushes himself back into you. you gasp out, grip on the hay tightening. he's so big, having to practically bully his cock into your pussy, because you're so damn tight too. matt's quiet but still vocal, grunting, groaning and faintly whimpering with every thrust of his hips.

you hiccup softly, "so good, oh, oh god," your chest rises and falls in heavy breaths, tits shaking beneath your sweet little bra, spilling from the lace. this catches matt's eyes immediately, and he smirks, sliding his hand under your chest and squeezing to hold you up. he swallows thickly, "you like that? yeah? feels good, i know, baby, mmh, yeah.." he squeezes your chest again, before he slides his hand down your side to hold onto your hips and squeeze again.

matt's thrusts pick up, hips smacking against yours with the sound of skin against skin echoing throughout the barn. the way you cry out, legs trembling, god, you're gorgeous. so, so damn pretty. "matt! matt, oh my god, mmh—ah.." he can tell you're getting closer from how the trembling in your legs picks up, and how your inner walls clench around him. he swallows hard, "you gonna come? yeah? all over me? that's it, give it to me, wanna feel it, fuck."

you're squealing, grasping tighter at the hay bale beneath you. his words only throw you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. he gasps shakily, feeling the way you squeeze around him so tight. he feels your release ooze down your thighs, and his too, and he growls shakily with each buck of his hips now. "gonna come, fuck, hold on, baby, hold on," he slowly pulls out of you, his fist flying to his cock as he pumps his hand quickly, whimpering under his breath with every stroke. "m'comin', shit, my god—that's it, yeah.." his abdomen tightens and eventually hot, white ropes of cum spurt out from his tip and coat your ass, dripping down your soft skin.

you look so pretty like that.

"you okay, baby? he asks gently, eyes meeting yours as he grasps at the hay bale, chest rising and falling in picked up breaths. when you glance up at him, all wide eyed and hazy, nodding, he knows you're okay, and wanting more. "feel so good," you admit, and you glance away for a second before meeting his gaze again. "want.. more."

"more?" matt's eyes rake over you for a second, and he nods, a hum escaping him. "turn around, i got you, honey. always got you."

taglist ／ ⋆ ۪ @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @pettydollie, @dayzeandhaze, @dqzzlingsummer, @slut4chriss, @pillwebb, @https--roman, @amaris444, @yutafairy, @theognatster, @v33angel, @fxlklorelover, @mattsturnswhore, @sturncakez, @flouvela, @mattsdolll, @ifwdominicfike, @httqvi, @imyesterdaysproblem (some tags. didnt work my bad pooks)

[tiredeg]

People everywhere sense imminent danger all around. They sense that whatever just happened is the beginning of the savagery, not the end. People abandon their vehicles and begin to flee on foot. They exit buildings, run down stairs and out doors. People in subway trains and on busses, in halted elevator cars, work to pry open emergency exits and doors. They crawl, walk, and run for their lives. The most basic human instinct is to survive.—Annie Jacobsen, Nuclear War: A Scenario

They’re going to die, probably.  

“It was stupid of us to take the elevator,” Oscar says. 

Carlos manages an eye roll back at him. Oscar’s surprised the motion of his eyeballs doesn’t unbalance him, perched as he is on the railing around the edge of the elevator car, calves straining, reaching his phone up towards the emergency lighting strips. As high as possible, as if he can will the texts out of his phone, force the words out of the frozen elevator, up the shaft and out into the sky, send them floating through the air towards the recipients, soaring past the bombs coming the opposite way. 

Oscar’s no expert but he knows enough Spanish to be able to decipher the glimpses he’s managed of the screen. I will be ok. I love you all. Incongruous against the previous message in the thread, a picture of a scrappy white dog asleep on a couch. Oscar had watched Carlos add a heart react to it not two hours ago when they got back to the hotel after FP2. 

God, two hours ago. One hour and fifty minutes before someone told them to check their phones, before the awful silence as they watched the video. A farmer somewhere in California had put it on Facebook, a mushroom cloud blooming over a power plant. It was shared everywhere, Oscar had watched it with Kim, hunched over Twitter, or X, or whatever. The farmer is probably dead now. Facebook certainly is, anyway.

The bomb hit hundreds of miles away from their hotels in Vegas. Not far enough.

Finally, Carlos hops down, collapsing beside Oscar on the floor of the cab. The wall opposite them is a mirror, floor to ceiling, so Oscar doesn’t have to turn his head. It’s easier this way. 

“I think they have gone through,” Carlos blurts out, like he’d wanted to keep quiet but the words forced their way up his throat. “It has the two grey ticks. I think that means it's gone from my phone but I will not get blue ticks without signal.” 

It takes Oscar a second to catch his drift. There’s no way the messages went through. The signal’s been gone for a few minutes, Oscar reckons, about the same time the elevator stopped. Carlos isn’t an idiot, he must know. Oscar knows. 

“I think that’s right,” Oscar says. “They’ll have signal in Spain still, so they’ll have got it.” 

He feels Carlos sag a little at his words. They’re touching from shoulder to knee, something they wouldn’t have risked this morning. Doesn’t matter now. Probably shouldn’t have mattered at the time. 

“How would you go, if you could choose?” Carlos asks.  

Oscar shrugs. “Dunno, never really thought about it.” 

“Don’t be boring, think about it now.” Carlos shoves into him, puts his body weight behind it, but Oscar’s expecting it, can see him decide in the mirror. He braces himself, doesn’t move. Now they’re tangled. Now he can think. 

“I guess I read this book in school. It was nuclear stuff but not bombs, just radiation, so it was really slow. This one girl took her boyfriend’s good car out for one last drive, then floored it off a cliff in the end. I think I’d like that.” 

Carlos doesn’t say anything, just leans his head onto Oscar’s shoulder proper. If they stay like this too long Oscar won’t be able to feel his arm. Maybe that’s how he’d like to go, let Carlos lean on him limb by limb until he can’t feel anything anymore.  

“He was with her? The boyfriend?” Carlos mumbles. 

“Huh?” 

“In the nice car. Was she with her boyfriend?” 

“Oh, well not exactly, he was in a submarine I think, I don’t remember it all. They might not have been boyfriend and girlfriend actually, or maybe they were, I don’t know. They definitely loved each other.” 

“Oh,” Carlos says, “that’s nice.” 

“Yeah. What about you, what way would you go?” 

Oscar watches in the mirror as Carlos looks up at him.  

“I had a different answer but I like yours better, I think.” 

“Copycat. I suppose you can come along.” Oscar shifts, rearranging Carlos’s arms around him. 

“Who would drive?” Carlos asks. 

Oscar wants to be the one who wants to drive. He could take that role, let Carlos hold on as their imaginary car gets closer to the point of no return, make the decision to keep the car pointing forward, his foot to the floor. He could take the wheel, if he had to. 

In the mirror he can see Carlos is still looking at him. He meets his own eyes in the reflection, then lets his head turn, lets himself look for real. 

“I don’t want to drive,” Oscar whispers.

“Okay,” Carlos shrugs, easy. “I’ll do it.” 

The emergency strips go dark. Oscar doesn’t know what that means, why they worked when the power went out or why they’ve stopped now. He’s annoyed at how he expects his eyes to adjust, blinking hard when they don’t as if he can force the nonexistent light into his pupils.  

He can still feel. He’s shaking, he thinks. Carlos’s arms tighten around him, unsteady too. Oscar revises his previous answer, overwhelmingly glad of the elevator; they can’t get lost in here, it’s too small. He doesn’t really know the timeline on these things, maybe it’ll take a day, maybe a few seconds. They’re here for now. 

[lesbikaiser]

Could you please do b d f+ kaiser for the alphabet?💖

here it is >< i MIGHT have projected onto him but you can't blame me he's my lovie

[b] body part

for him, he's very aware of how pretty and inviting his neck looks with that blue rose adorning it, loves it when you bite down on his skin and leave hickeys all over the column of his throat. loves his hands as well, he can touch you and feel every inch of your body with them, he knows how good he's able to make you feel using his fingers so yeah, his favorite part!

for you, surprisingly, he loves your hands too. loves to feel your touch, the way you hold onto him and how you scratch his back whenever it gets too much for you, gripping his skin and marking him up with your nails. adores it when you trace his tattoo with the tips of your fingers. he also loves your lips, not to repeat myself but he lives for the feeling of your soft, hot lips kissing his neck and all over his body, it's intoxicating how good they feel against his skin.

[d] dirty secret

oh my god he absolutely loves to slap you, especially your face and pussy. nothing too harsh though, just light smacks on your cheeks as he mocks you for crying, he thinks it only adds to his mean act of degrading and humiliating you, it makes your pout even bigger and he can feel how your cunt clenches around him whenever his palm hits your face. and he's delighted to find out how turned on it makes you when he gives your drooling cunt a few slaps whenever he's going down on you, the way you cum instantly the first time he does it tells him how much you love the pain. though he'll never say out loud how hard his dick gets when he hits you, he won't think twice before slapping his hand across your face when he's fucking you nice and deep <3

[f] favorite position

likes to have you on top of him, preferably with your legs wrapped around his waist and your bodies as close as humanly possible, so lotus or the cradle, maybe cowgirl with him sitting up if he's really feeling like it. he wants you to have complete access to his neck so you can lick and bite on his skin, he gets to watch how your breasts bounce as you ride his dick and feel them smushed against his own chest. loves it when you get too tired to keep moving so he needs to take matters into his own hands and hold your hips to fuck up into you, the way your grip on his shoulder tightens and you squeal against his ear because he's reaching so deep, it's adorable.

[quantum1mmortality]

Guess who's suffering from writers block!!! No but fr I wanna write SO BAD but I just can't 😭😭 so take some twst pp hcs until I decide to work on commissions again

Not proofread idc shank me

♧CW!!! Fem reader! twst dick hcs duh, every NRC student EXCLUDING ortho, might have some other hcs too

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle:

Its... cute? Idk how to explain it

He is VERY sensitive

5.5 inches

Slight curve downward

The tip is a really deep red

Cum is watery, tastes like rosewater(this is a fantasy world i can make cum taste like anything i want)

Balls aren't all that heavy, very soft and squishy tho

Likes rimming. No further comments

Trey:

EEK MY BOY

I'm gonna try not to be biased

Hes BIG tho

I know you've seen him. Let's be honest, we all know he's PACKING

So I'm gonna say a solid 7-8 inches with a nice amount of girth

No curve, but very veiny

Heavy balls. Like, HEAVY. Bros got a whole bakery in there

Soft pink tip

Cum is the normal consistency, he takes care of himself

If you're sucking him off he'll change the flavor of his cock and his cum to whatever you want (thank god for doodle suit)

Cater:

Easy 7 inches

Not too sensitive, it takes a while for him to cum

His cum is pretty thick, its all the spicy ramen he eats

Curve upward, huge thick vein going from his balls to the tip

Cum tastes salty, but not overwhelming

Will have his clones fuck you silly

Deuce:

Another small boy

I'll say 6 inches, no curve

Hes sensitive too, but not as much as riddle

He really like getting his balls sucked more than his cock itself

Cum is watery too, but it tastes good

Like sweet in a way

Tip is a light blue dont ask why

Ace:

Another small boy 😭

He is CLUELESS

Poor man is a one pump chump

5.6 inches, curve to the left

SENSETIVE. pussy got this boy on his knees

Balls squishy, balls soft?

Yes to both

His rip is red, like a blush red

Azul:

A good 6ish inches with a curve downward

Not as sensitive as you may think

I think it would be funny if the bottom of his cock had like little suckers or some shit

Tip is dark purple and he has some veins, not many tho

Heavy balls, no squish :(

Cum is thick and black bc octopus

Tastes like what watered down hand sanitizer smells like

Jade:

😨

Its slimy.

No further comment on that

No but its like wet, a lot

So is floyds but we aren't there yet

Its like lube 🥺

Okay but he's LONG

8.5 AT LEAST

He also enjoys rimming

Tip is dark cyan

Cum is slimy too

Add some borax water and sell it on etsy

Floyd:

Basically the same as Jade

Hes smaller tho

Hes 6 inches but has SO much girth

His cum is more watery than slimy and the tip is a light blue

Lots of veins too

Kalim:

6 inches

So sensitive

He begs.

Loves blow jobs but would NEVER ask for them

Heavy soft balls

A dark brown tip and there's lil red swirlies

Cum is thick

Tastes like coconut toothpaste

Jamil:

mmmmmmmmMMMMMMM

BIG

So big

Destroy me PLEASE

7.8 inches and a big curve upwards

Likes fingers in his ass, just like Kanye west

Doesn't like blow jobs he cums too quick :(

Gets overstimulated easily and when he does hes highly submissive

Cum a lil thick (its all the curry he eats)

Its yummy tho

Tastes salty and a lil sweet

Like a pretzel

Tip is a redish-brownish

Vil:

Hes a very odd case

Hes big, dont get me wrong

But mans does NOT have sex 😭

He complains it ruins his makeup

7.4 inches with a few veins

Oh yeah hes unclipped too idk why but he is

Tip is a pinky purple color

Balls got some weight, they're not sensitive

Rook:

Hes an even weirder case

Hes very big but almost NEVER penetrates you

Hed much rather be in between your legs for hours on end

Making you cum on his face gives him so much pleasure

He doesn't touch himself either

When he's eating you out he has one hand thrusting fingers into your pussy, the other hand thrusting fingers into your ass(hes an ass man I know he is) while he sucks on your clit the whole time

He cums on the sheets whenever you do bc he knows how good you feel

Hes 8.5 inches with a curve down, large vein going upward

A creme colored tip

Cum normal consistency, you don't know what it tastes like because he never let's you suck him off :(

Epel:

Small boy

Whimpers

A lot

Hes 6 inches with a curve to the left

Light purple tip bc I said so

Light balls, but no squish :(

Cum is watery and tastes like lavender oil

Idia:

Oh god

Contrary to popular belief he has a lot of stamina

He doesn't have ANY experience tho

Played a lot of hentai games but thats the extent of his experience

I think it would be really funny if instead of whispering dirty talk or praise during sex he tells you the fnaf lore

Like he'll be blowing your back out and he'll just be like "so the crying child was actually william aftons son-" and then he cums

After hes done and doing aftercare he'll quiz you on the fnaf lore

If you get any of the questions wrong he'll fuck you until you can't walk as a punishment

If you get them all right he'll eat you out for hours until you also can't walk

Win win honestly

8 inches

TIP IS BLUUUEEEEEE

Cum is thick and salty, he doesn't take care of himself

Heavy, HEAVY balls. Very sensitive

He loves blow jobs too

Leona:

8.8 inches, but if we're being real to how ACTUAL lion anatomy is hes closer to 3 inches but yall aren't ready for that convo

Not sensitive at all, it takes so long for him to cum

But when he does hes so sweet, whispering praise after praise to you and lots of kisses

Cum is normal consistency, a lil on the thicker end

Its a bit bitter with a sweet aftertaste

Hes also unclipped and I will not elaborate

Idk if lions have them but if they do then he has a knot, not as big as jacks tho

Heavy balls, they're sensitive

Brown tip, like, dark brown tip

Ruggie:

7ish inches with a curve down

Also likes eating you out

Doesn't like having his balls touched

They're cute and squishy tho

Cum is also thick and doesn't taste like anything

Tip is a light brown and has a vein going through it

Jack:

8 inches.

Has a huge knot. Physically cannot pull out when it comes to it

Cum tastes like strawberries

Doesn't let you suck him off often bc he doesn't wanna knot in your mouth

Also gets pleasure from eating you out

Tip is grey and sensitive

Malleus:

Hes also like rook in the way he'd eat you out for hours if you'd let him

But he does penetrate you

Our big dragon boy loves the feeling of being inside your tight cunt

Will probably cum if you praise him

He has 2.

One on top one on the bottom

The one on top is longer, 9 inches while the one on the bottom is 7ish, the bottom one is a lot thicker tho

He'll be so slow easing them in and almost never goes fast when it comes to sex

He sees it as love making

They both have a black tip and the cum is normal consistency, tastes like... eggs? Hardboiled don't ask

Oh yeah his cum glows in the dark

Lilia:

Idc what you guys say this man is SO EXPERIENCED

He knows how to have sex properly and can make you cum in seconds if he feels like it

7 inches, his dick is where all his height went

Because he's so experienced he doesn't cum easily

PINK TIP PINK TIP

His cum is normal consistency, a little watery maybe

Tastes like citrus

Silver:

Loves when you ride him

Likes missionary too tho

7 inches too

His tip is grey

Very sensitive and gets overstimulated easily

Hes also just very submissive in general

Cum is watery and tastes like what a new car smells like

Sebek:

LOUD

SO LOUD

CANT TAKE THIS BITCH ANYWHERE

Cries during sex

Loves when you pull his hair

Does he have horns? If he does they're very sensitive

Cums if you touch them

Hes a crocodile right

Nah he has horns

8 inches no other comments

GREEN TIP

Cum is thick and bitter

We love him tho

Balls squishy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: im so fuckibg tired god help me

[caramel-maveeato]

𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♡˚₊ 。。。 ᴋ. ᴀᴋᴀʙᴀɴᴇ ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: What it’s like to date THE Akabane Karma…   ♡ Pairings/Love interest: Akabane Karma x GN!reader ♡ Genre: fluff, slight hurt/comfort ♡ TW: too much yapping, might be very OOC this is just my opinion ♡ Word count: 1.5k

Note: All characters originated from “Assassination Classroom” except for y/n.  All characters are 18 or older. English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Oh god I love him

My bish. 

Been happily married to him for 8+ years so here's a fic to describe my experience (Delusion is my middle name.)

Akabane Karma has a very Akabane Karma way to love. 

Karma is rich and can afford fancy restaurant dates, but he prefers more casual dates: coffee date, study date, arcade, park, mall, concerts, outdoor movie, late night walks, throwing rocks on the rooftop of some dickhead’s houses he/you hate, going around causing troubles with you becoming his accidental accomplice, etc. He loves the light-heartedness and silliness of them.

(It’s lowkey romantic when you run away from security hand-in-hand.)

On nighttime dates, he’ll sneak you out during random midnights by climbing through your window (if you live with family) or barging through the front door just so you can go on an adventure with him.

No one’s stopping him, no one can stop him anyway. 

His love language is a mix of Quality Time, Act of Service, and Gift Giving. 

Quality Time: He likes being near you. Doesn’t matter if he was on his game console and you were on your phone scrolling through Tumblr or if you both are working like a dog on two different laptops, doesn’t matter. 

He doesn’t mind the comfortable silence as long as he can still feel your presence or see you. 

Daily contact is needed. Not that you have to chat 24/7, but enough communication (that’s the bare minimum). If you can’t see each other at all, he wants to at least text a bit or talk on the phone.

The feeling of closeness is comforting to him considering how he never really has it growing up.

Act of Service: As much as he subconsciously does little things for you like paying close attention to what you tell him and your body language, doing research on things you like, giving you his jacket when he notices you slightly shiver without you even asking him to, reminding you to eat (though his ass doesn’t eat regularly either), making you your favorite dishes—Karma secretly melts when you pays him the similar amount of attention. 

You don’t have to do allat, just be yourself and love him in your own way is enough to show him that you really care. 

Gift Givings: Karma spoils you to death (he’s rich af).

You stare at a bracelet for more than a few seconds at a mall? Boom he already got it nicely wrapped up while you go to the bathroom. You say a shirt is cute? Boom he’s taking his wallet out right now. You wonder whether you should get fruit smoothie or milkshake? Boom he’s paying for both. You woke up on a random Thursday morning? Boom there’s a silly, stupid looking plushie sitting on your bed with a small note, “It looks like you :P”

This is lowkey the way he’s been taught growing up—which his traveler parents would throw gifts and souvenirs at him once every blue moon they came home as a way to express that they ‘cared’.

But he isn’t like them. The gifts he buys you aren’t empty envelopes that’s called ‘love’ nor half-assed apologies for ignorance. These are just physical emphasis of what he feels for you, just something extra to add to the genuine love he already shows daily. 

Physical Affection: Karma is quite closed off and despite his effort to seem like a nonchalant, I-don’t-need-no-one lonewolf, he’s diagnosed with touch starvation.

But he has trust issues, plus that colossal reputation of a “cool guy” he has to maintain, he doesn’t like it when people become too physically comfortable with him. Or at least deep down he’s programmed himself to think that he doesn’t like being touchy-feely. 

(Which is the reason why bro’s always caught standing there like a sims character when Koro-sensei lovingly pats his head or Itona that one time too lol) 

Inwardly, he’s a bit flabbergasted to find out (be honest with himself) that he actually doesn’t mind receiving some physical love. From people he trusts and is close to only, of course. 

This explicitly includes his ✨romantic partner✨

Though despite the above belief of Karma being a touch-starved boy, I feel like he doesn’t show his true color until weeks or even months into the relationship. And still mildly bashful sometimes when he initiates the affection until completely get used to it, which can take 1-2 years or more.

I feel like he doesn’t mind PDA, but he doesn’t want to overdo it either. So usually Karma would just hold your hand, placing his hand on your waist or wrap an arm around your shoulders. 

But he’d show more than just the slight touches in cases where he wants to tease you or to shoo “competitors” away, or just… when he feels like it. 

Words of Affirmation: Words on the other hand isn’t something Karma will do much, he’s capable of doing so though. Compliments may be spilled once in a while, he’d rather keep them in his head. He loves you, but he’ll express it through actions instead of words because his huge ego doesn’t want to sound “overly sappy.” It’s just not his style. 

This makes his “I love you”s hit harder than they’re supposed to since he doesn’t say it often. 

As much as Karma cherishes his partner, he’s still a playful little shit.

He’ll poke fun at you and tease you just because. He does know when to stop and remembers certain boundaries not to cross, but still pisses you off sometimes because he.is.so.annoying. 

If something he said hits a sore spot for you, he’d try to throw his pride down the stairs and apologize almost instantly because hell, how could he hurt you?? On the other hand, if you’re just having enough of his relentless teasing, then no, he wouldn’t beg for your forgiveness. 

Instead, Karma would buy you some small gifts or favorite food, or crack a joke, anything to pull out even the slightest, littlest lift of your lips.

Then he’ll surprise you with a hug or a kiss, trapping you in his arms until the tension evaporates entirely. 

He’s hateable but lovable at the same time ugh

Jealousy Karma we need.

He’s outward and inwardly chill most of the time.

So it’s not like him to constantly be worked up and worried about your loyalty. He trusts you a lot, if he doesn’t you two wouldn’t be dating. He knows you aren’t gonna cheat on him or do anything behind his back.

But the jealousy can be caused by something outside of your relationship, like someone shows too much interest in you. But I feel like this can only apply when that person makes him feel threatened in terms of “perfection.” 

Karma doesn’t show it but his insecurities can still be triggered, he’s only human after all. So on the bad days he feels like his “love rival” is a bit too good and compatible with you, that’s where you can see a jealous version of your boyfriend. 

He’s gonna be more pissy and quiet, (or just sulky in general, even clingy), and he urgently needs the confirmation that you love him. So please don’t ignore the signs and show him just that. 

Being a rising bureaucrat is exhausting, but Karma wouldn’t let it affect the person he deeply treasures. 

We all know Karma doesn’t trust easily. So if he goes out of his way to confess and date you, he’s extraordinarily, horribly smitten. 

He grows up alone and neglected, most people in his life either hate him or respect him out of fear. So I don’t think he’s willing to let go of someone he finally, finally feels safe and loved with if the reason is simply stress/busyness. 

Time management is hard, of course. But if he wants to he would, and Karma wants to. 

It might be overwhelming at first, pressures from different aspects of life might kick both of you in the ass. You two probably would find yourselves arguing more than normal. But even if he’s tired and stubborn, Karma won't let you stay angry at each other overnight because his partner is so dear to him.

He’ll try to be at home every night, but omg Japan’s work culture… that can be impossible on some days due to overtime work. 

He’ll text you or call you during breaks, more callings on the nights he’s stuck at work—your voice is emotional support and keeps him going. If you fall asleep during FaceTime he’ll just keep the phone there and glancing at your sleeping face once in a while, lowkey feeling more comforted while going half batshit insane with paperworks. 

He’ll make it up to you afterwards.

So yeah, once you both get the hang of it it’ll be fine again. Busyness is just a dumb excuse for a relationship to fall apart, that means effort wasn’t being put in enough from both sides. Your relationship with Karma is far away from this.

I feel like when Karma finally finds someone to be openly affectionate with and the said person gives him the same amount of care, it’s healing his inner child too. (I cried)

Please love him I love him so much. 

A/N: It's almost 2025 and I'm still not over assclass I want them back so bad my class E babies :((

[whorediaries-09]

SO SORRY TO ADD ANOTHER A OTHER REQUEST :( BUT CAN WE MAYBE HAVE LIKE A SOFT NICE DATE THAT SLOWLY TURNS INTO SMUT WITH RON? PLEASEE? Also hui :3

hi lovey, thank you for sending in the request, hope you like it!

i think he knows; pairing- ronald weasley x reader warning(s)- mentions of war, 18+ content, fluff. a/n- contrary to popular belief, i am in fact quite alive and breathing.

little train.

' he got that boyish look that i like in man, i'm an architect i'm drawing up the plans. '

going on a date after the war was...intimidating, to put it in within a play of a single word. and surely ron wasn't expecting himself to be in a sticky situation with the pretty healer who had tended to his wounds after the traumatizing events. he ran his thumb over the now healed scar.

it'd tell a tale.

he remembered you. he could recall the dullness of worry in your eyes. the shine of hope in your eyes. even if your hair was matted with blood and rubble, you were the diesel to the fire that so timidly burned. the bruise under your eye was fresh, deep blue blackening, a shard of glass hanging from your chin.

he wish he could paint the blue golden.

with the last tug at the leather strap of the watch around his wrist, he decided he'd get the flowers. it would add a nice touch, a 'gentlemanly effect', he liked to think. even if it did seem to be a bit cliche. perhaps he thought of the smile on your face when you got the flowers (he was hopeful that you liked flowers). or perhaps he was just afraid of the aspect of a hormone rushing pregnant ginny hitting him on the head because of his 'less gentlemanly thoughts'

he remembered harry patting his shoulders, throwing out advices. ron rolled his eyes. he recalled when harry was swooning over cho chang, describing his very 'wet' kiss. he kicked harry in the shin, pulling a laugh out of his friend, grumbling harry wasn't much of a 'playboy' either.

so, he found himself standing in the flower shop, having absolutely no ideas about flowers. he watched the half a dozen barely bloomed pink roses being tied together. god forbid you weren't allergic to them. or didn't laugh at him for being too cliched.

he wished hermione had actually written that book about girls.

*-

it was fruitful, his attempt to choose the flowers. he'd recognized it from the shine in your eyes and the beautiful curve adorned on your lips. he'd found you beautiful when you were on the brink of death, disguised as a savior, so heaven sent. but now, when you held his hand, touching the scar you'd mended, talking away about stuff he couldn't really catch up on, your hair smelling like something so desirable, he found you breathtaking. he was mesmerized by you.

you felt like a forbidden treasure, the diesel to the fire in his heart that raged it's flames ever so timidly.

you'd liked the flowers. ron silently thanked the gods that you weren't allergic. you liked a lot of things, he learnt. cats, photography, literature, music, and a good fuck... was amongst the few things you liked. he was sure you'd said that intentionally just to pull out a reaction. the evil trick was recognized by the pretense innocent mischievousness in your eyes.

he was glad he coughed the drink in his mouth instead of spitting it right onto your face. you'd smiled, throwing him a dirty wink, twirling the straw of lemonade with your tongue. the dim carnival light angled your features, bringing out the best of your bone structure.

'well, to put it correctly, i enjoy a good fuck...' you said, after ron had recovered from his coughing haze. he wiped the edge of his lips, a nd putting on his best front, he responded,

'well then i can promise you an enjoyable time with me sweetheart,'

it was said with an awkward stance, a constant shift of octaves. but it still made you flush as the flame of the fire of his burning heart tickled your skin. you'd be his fuel, his diesel. you'd be his muse, the tale he recite.

*-

by the time it was time to leave you by the doorstep, the sky dizzied itself across the luminated street scattered with gravel. his fingers were melted within the crevices of yours, fit snug like a puzzle. he liked the way you laughed, the way your voice did throbbed so serenely against his eardrums while narrating tales, the way your eyes lit up against the dim lighting. 'liked' would be an understatement.

for the first time in his life, he was thankful for his freckles. he hoped they hid the flush of his pale skin.

'you're...kind,' you stated, shimmying on your tiptoes.

'hmm... why do you say so, sweetheart?' he asked.

'i know you live on the other side of town, and you came by to drop me...' a stupid line pops up in his head, but he doesn't say anything. he almost bites his lip to not let his boyish thought control his action. so, he smiles.

and lingers. holding your hand. the distance between him and you isn't much, the little roof over the entrance of your house providing him the needed protection from rain.

he can feel your breathe upon his already warm skin. it excruciates his patience. it plays with his senses, the sweet fragrance of petrichor infused with a scent, that reeks of you. it's blissful.

still, like the boyish man he is, he does nothing. he lingers, letting a silence wrap the little bubble of tranquility. it's comforting, in a strange way. he can't figure out what to do, when the sound of the rain, the running vehicles and the croaking frogs blur, when he feels your fingers tighten around his.

your lips lingers a little too close to his, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. or rather the side of his mouth. his mind reels when you place forward your request, your thought.

'the rain won't stop. not now anyways.' you whisper, lips brushing his earlobe. he doesn't recognize what takes over him within the click of your doorknob and the placement of your hand on his waist, as you pull him towards you.

but he enjoys it, the sudden rush of hormones. it's quick, it's something he's not felt for a long time. so long, it almost feels foreign. perhaps, it is. it's a warmth he's never felt, no never in his teenage years has he ever felt the need of touch. he's never realized the need, he thinks.

it's maddening, your touch all over his body when he finally crashes his mouth with yours, pushing you against the unlocked door of your house. he stumbles as you grab your neck, breathlessly cradling your cheek within the crevice of his palm. the scar you'd fixed touches the one on your chin.

it's a tale to be kept silent, to be a concealed message. like a string of fate, perhaps.

his teeth nips softly at the bare skin of your neck, your back pressed against the cold wall of your house. he feels the heat radiate off your body, moans leaving your mouth. your name rolls of his tongue as your fingers pull his hair, pulling his face away from your neck.

'is this okay?' he asks, concerned. he thinks he's fucked it up, by jumping on your bones. to his relief, you smile,

'it's...more than okay. can we go to the bedroom please?'

'sure, sweetheart. whatever makes you comfortable.'

*-

you've got your hair tangled up in his ginger locks. the moans spilling from your throat echoes through against the walls of your bedroom. his lips aren't on yours, as much as he'd love to taste your moans and sounds, your noise is honey-dripping gold in his eardrums.

his cock plunges deep within you, till your room loses the smell of your sandalwood candles. it reeks of sex and skin, the physical intimate bond of unheard individuals. it reeks of something magical, a golden desire painting over deep blue bruises.

it's fueling, to feel his touch on your skin. it diesels the fire that ignites within you when he snaps his hips against yours. the sound of his gasps, your moans, and skin slapping fills the room. you roll your eyes, as he thrusts himself angled perfectly so as to hit your sweet spot. you see white, moaning his name,

'fuck please, ron right there,'

his silver chain dangles over your lips. you wrap your lips around it, bringing his face closer. he gasps, his finger slipping between your connected bodies. his calloused thumb rubs over your stimulated clit, making you arch your hips, searching for more friction.

'you're making me feel so good, sweetheart,' he moans as you clench your walls around his girth. the coil building in your stomach drives your to the edge of your sanity.

'yeah?' you whisper back, half heaving, half controlling your urge to scream. it's heavenly, the combination of his perfect thrusts, the rubbing of his finger against your clit. you wrap your legs around his body, pulling him closer, to feel him, to touch him.

his girth plunges in you, and you feel your coil unraveling through you, your thighs shaking as the orgasm bubbles over the brink. it's pure heavenly insanity, a break through from the scorching insatiable desire for him.

you feel him release within you, wrecking your guts. your orgasm paints his abs, as his lump body falls over yours, his weight dead. he hides his face into your neck, smiling. the tranquil silence settles, carving a little bubble of comfort. neither of you hear the rain pattering against the gravel.

perhaps, truly it was just an excuse. excuse for a fate, for a destiny. to rebound broken strings of souls.

'you don't break promises do you?' you ask, laughing.

****************************************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox. specify whether you want to be tagged in just the series or all my upcoming works.)

[b0nten]

IT’S YOU AND ME AGAINST THE WORLD (THE CRUEL ONE I’VE DRAGGED YOU INTO)

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ kakucho takes you to meet his family. or, the closest thing he has to one, besides the one made by you two.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ FIRST KAKUCHO FIC WOHOOOOO. timestamps may be a little off so yeah. sorry4dat. anon i hope you like it!

today is the day.

straightening your clothes with your palms, your eyes scan your body in the mirror.

“i thought i told you something casual was enough?” a shirtless figure emerges from down the hallway of the apartment, toned muscles flexing as he stretches.

“and i thought i told you you should ditch the blue and go natural, kaku.” you sarcastically answer, turning to him.

he’s got an amused expression painted across his face, eyes softly laid on you and mouth corners sewn into a delicate upward smile.

“so you really hate my aegean blue hair that much?” he jokes again, and, as if teleporting himself, emerges from nothing next to you.

“that’s not true, after all, this aegean blue is the one that charmed me the second time around, but your natural hair color is beautiful, and you know that!” by fake-punching his chest you earn a laugh, “i’ll dress casually when you stop dyeing your hair!”

“alright, alright,” he muses, “are you ready to go?”

“shouldn’t you get dressed first, princess?” you question back, stressing the second word and inspecting his ‘outfit’. “you look handsome like this, gotta give it to you, but i’d like ti think i’m the only woman that gets to see you like this.”

“shoot, you’re right.” he laughs as he grabs the neatly laid out shirt from a nearby chair, “what would i do without you?” he asks, awarding you with a forehead kiss.

“go to work half-naked, apparently..” you fake a disapproving head-shake and make way to the door. “i’m gonna wait in the car, try to not be late, please.” you warn, jingling his car keys in your right hand.

“yes ma’am.” kakucho fakes a military greeting rushing to the bathroom to brush his hair.

✣ ✣ ✣

looking at the high building in front of you, you let out a shaky breath.

“you ready?” kaku asks, blue hair shining in the hot summer sun.

in response, you only hum a weak ‘mhm’, accompanied by a slight nod. you ponder — are you really ready? — you know what kakucho does for a job, he’s a mafioso. not only that, but he’s the no. 3 of japan’s most feared crime syndicate. if every single one of his coworkers is as serious as your kaku is whenever he talks business on the phone (which happens very rarely, as he values his time at home and with you more than drug deals and murders) then you’re screwed, to put it lightly.

“hey, c’mon,” he looks at you, face contorting into a goofy grin, “you really don’t have to be nervous. they look scary but each one is dumber than the other, i promise you. you’ll like them, and they’ll like you.”

his reassuring words tug at your heartstrings a bit, and warm your worry-frozen heart just enough to get it to pump blood again. so, you take a deep breath and nod again, only this time, confidently.

“let’s do this.” with the corner of your eye, you see kakucho smile proudly, before stretching out his arm, allowing you to loop your’s through.

you enter the building: the lobby is cool and and feels so much better than the scorching heat of the outside. the decor is nice, it brings a certain richness to the place, with accents of gold and spanish oak and baroque elements here and there. it’s not flashy, and certainly not like any other japanese office tower interior you’ve seen before.

your heels smack against the macael marble as you allow yourself to admire the interior.

“ran redesigned this whole place when we bought it.” having observed you until now, kakucho chimes in with some fun facts.

“he really has the eye for art.” you add, and watch his eyes light up as he presses the elevator button.

“and he’s quite the snob too. god forbid we touch his montblanc pens or he goes apeshit.”

“oh, kaku…” you can only sigh as he bursts out laughing. “i really don’t know what to expect from you guys.”

he calms down his laughter before entering the lift, “and that’s just the beginning.”

the elevator ride is long, their offices being the second to last floor, which is not so bad as kakucho gets to tell you more about the guys.

“the pink mullet with the piercings is sanzu. he’s quite… eccentric, sometimes.. even uhm..” kaku swallows, uncertain if he should say more, but sure enough that this slip-up may cause you some fright.

“sometimes what, kakucho?” you urge him to continue his sentence.

“well, he can be scary or creepy sometimes. but just sometimes. other than that, he’s a dumbass.” your boyfriend scratches the back of his head, almost relieved. “he’s also no. 2.

as you know, I, your handsome boyfriend is no. 3, while the advisor is takeomi, sanzu’s brother. he really likes trench coats for some reason, so he’ll probably be wearing one today. he’s got a long scar on the right side of his face. oh, yeah, and sanzu also has two scars at the corners of his lips.”

“two down, five more to go, including montblanc guy.” you comment, leaving kakucho somewhat surprised.

“ye— wait, how do you know?” confused, his head darts in your direction.

“by paying attention to your phone calls, during conversations and doing some simple maths.” you reply, sarcastically.

“oh, my beloved einstein.” he kisses the crown of your head gently, “yeah, we have montblanc guy, ran, and his younger brother rindou. ran has short hair, black and pink and rindou also has a mullet, blue and purple. and they both have the tattoo on their necks.

then there’s mochi. well behaved guy, but his beard almost makes him look like an npc or the daiso version of a pimp. he’s the guy with the jumbo dumplings i told you about!”

“oh, that’s mochi! good to know, good to know!” you reply, just as excited as he is.

“and last but not least we have koko. he’s got really long blonde hair and a… unique hairstyle. his tattoo is on his head.

i think that makes them all.”

“are you not forgetting someone?” you quirk up a brow and kakucho mimics you. “maybe… that mikey guy? your leader?” you finally ask, long pauses between each word.

“it’ll be easy for you to see which one’s mikey once he enters the room. but don’t be fooled! he’s tougher than he looks.”

you nod and run through the information one last time before the elevator light pings and the door opens. you step onto a soft carpet, kakucho right next to you, eager to explain more about his workplace.

“we each have our own offices but usually meet in the conference room, where we do most of the work. for separate tasks we use our own spaces, tho. mine is… right here!” the turns left and points to a black door. it’s not hard to see it’s his thanks to the nameplate.

“across from mine is sanzu’s and the one behind us is mikey’s. over here is akashi takeomi, just beside the elevator is mochi, across from his is the conference room, and then there’s kokonoi’s, and the haitanis’ offices towards the end of the hall.”

you would’ve liked to see how the offices looked, being sure kakucho’s was just as neat as he keeps the one at home, interested in the older haitani’s the most, to be frank. you could’ve bet money he also took charge of the floor’s design, this time more simple and elegant than the ground one. muted colors, different textures and simple paintings; the guy really seems to know what he’s doing, maybe he should ditch organized crime and do interior design.

“let’s get this over with.” you turn over to kakucho, who’s just looking around, as if it’s also his first time visiting the place. when he hears you, he smiles, and takes small steps toward the conference room, hand still looped through yours.

you un-loop your arm from his, resting it on his shoulder as he opens the door. he enters, aegean fringe bouncing with every small step. you come in just behind him.

analyzing the room, you really can’t believe these are japan’s most feared:

ran is filing his nails. next to him, legs propped up on the table, is his brother, playing a video game on his phone, occasionally hissing as his eyebrows twitch in frustration.

across from them is sanzu, pink mullet covered by a long white towel, dripping on the wool carpet. just beside him is his older brother, takeomi, wearing a tan trench-coat. he’s reading — you rub your eyes to be sure you’re seeing everything exactly as it is — a guide to becoming a multi-millionaire through bitcoin.

mochi is doing paperwork, and koko — god have fucking mercy on their souls — is reading the same book as takeomi.

“can you close the fucking— ” the younger haitani bangs his fists against the table in a fit of rage, freezing completely when he sees you. “oh my god, it’s the lady whose picture he keeps on his desk! KOKO GIVE ME MY FUCKING MONEY YOU MOTHERFUCKER HE HAS AN ACTUAL FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!” he grabs his hair while pushing past every chair to get to the mentioned, disturbing ran in the process.

“rindou, try to look whenever you’re running around like a wild boar, i hurt my nail when you pushed me!” his brother accuses, but rindou is long gone.

when he gets to koko, he’s met with a book in his face.

“i’m not giving you jackshit, bitch!”

“come on man, you can’t go back now! we had a bet!” he whines and pleads, but koko is nowhere near turning his decision around.

all of a sudden, rindou kicks koko’s chair, sending him flying into mochi.

the bearded man looks up from his papers distraught, an evil look in his eyes.

“do you even know how long it took me to convince this corn company to deliver corn directly to my house?” he asks, and both shake their heads no. “do you have any idea how long it took me to write this goddamn ‘thank you’ letter?” he asks again, and they both shake their heads again. “THEN ARE YOU TWO GOING TO WRITE IT AGAIN FOR ME BECAUSE YOU JUST MADE ME THROW AWAY A MONTH’S WORTH OF CALLIGRAPHY CLASSES?” this time, they nod.

from the left, sanzu groans.

“CAN YOU FUCKERS STOP SCREAMING? MY HEADACHE IS GETTING WORSE.” he roars, ripping the towel off his face, ready to jump out of his chair. thankfully, takeomi holds him back.

“i think you should all calm down. this is no way to greet the lady.” he says as he closes his book and stands up, bowing to you from afar. “akashi takeomi, bonten’s advisor. nice to meet you.” he says, smiling slightly.

“thank you takeomi.” kakucho starts “this is y/n, my girlfriend, just like rindou has correctly observed.” he shoots the man a judging look, “we’ve been dating for a little shy of, what? nine years now?” he looks at you and smiles, and you give an approving note, signaling he has gotten the time right, “she wanted to meet you all, so i brought her here.”

he steps forward, stretching out his hand toward you. you take it and follow him, nearing the guys on the left side.

“y/n f/l. nice to meet you, everyone. i hope we can get along well. i heard lots about you.” you take your turn and bow, looking at every single one of the guys as you speak.

every one of them continues with the introduction, except for takeomi, since he had already done it while lecturing the guys.

kakucho pulls a chair out from under the table and gestures you to sit. he sits down next to you and surprisingly, the boys are all eager to talk as soon as they get the possibility to.

rindou and koko apologize for their behavior and you just shrug it off with a laugh, reassuring them smilingly that it was funny. you compliment ran’s interior design skills to which he seems very grateful and laugh with mochi, hinting that you know about the jumbo dumpling incident. sanzu compliments your ear piercing setup and asks you about some more jewelry and you offer to go with him shopping sometime, and bond with takeomi over your shared interest of the sengoku period, finding out that he shares the same birthday with his idol, samurai akechi mitsuhide.

everything is going smoothly, when all of a sudden, the door flies open, every one of the executives jumping up in an instant, with you closely behind. when they bow, you do the same, although you didn’t get to see who came in.

when you all pull your heads up again, the short blonde who has entered looks at you puzzled.

“who are you?” he tilts his head to the left, analyzing you carefully.

“mikey, this is y/n, my girlfriend. i brought her to meet everyone!” kakucho explains instantly, and watches him approach you.

“you… you’re the one … that makes those cute bento boxes for kakucho?” he asks, serious look plastered on his face.

unable to control your excitement for your work being recognized, you beam up, hands clasping each other happily: “yes! that’s me!”

as if he wasn’t the ruthless leader he is, mikey’s eyes widen with the childish love for food he’s had forever.

“do you think…,” he starts off shy, unusual for him, “but only if you have the time, do you think you could also make one for me?” the head of bonten inquires, eagerly awaiting your response.

ever so flattered, you smile so hard you can barely see anymore, screeching out in a delighted tone.

“of course!” you’re amped, ready to cook fifty bento boxes because of how happy you are, “do you have any allergies or themes you like?”

as if having been offered a million dollars, mikey answers you enthusiastically, “i don’t like spicy food, and… i like omurice, and if you could add a mini- flag on top, please…” he says, hands meeting behind his back.

“of course!” you affirm, high on the rush of dopamine and continue asking mikey about how he’d like his bento boxes. he himself feels like a kid in a candy store.

the rest of the guys are left dumbfounded, kakucho’s mouth having hit the floor long time ago already.

he picks it back up when mikey interrupts his own conversation.

“i’m sorry to cut it short, y/n-san, but we should start the meeting. we can discuss after it more, if you want!” he apologizes, subliminally saying he wants to talk about these upcoming bentos more with you.

“that’s alright, and of course!” you smile again, “kaku, i’m heading to your office!” and turn around to face your red-faced boyfriend.

“of course, i’ll see you there after we’re done.” he smiles, nodding, assuringly.

“kakucho, does she know where your office is? are you not gonna walk her?” mikey intervenes and before kaku can say anything else, he offers himself to guide you to your lover’s workroom.

“take your places, guys, we’ll start when i come back.” the blonde orders, closing the door behind him.

“looks like boss is gonna steal your girl, kaku.” sanzu teases his subordinate, while ran makes kissy noises and coos ‘kaku’ in the background.

“wait…” rindou interrupts abruptly, “you said you have been dating for nine years? that means.. koko! do the math, please!” he orders.

“you’ve been keeping her secret ever since kanto manji!” the blonde gasps in shock.

“you bastard! you kept her hidden through that— ” mochi is just as angry.

“and tenjiku too?!” kokonoi, having redone his math, is in utter disbelief.

kakucho tries to drown out the sound of the guys accusing him of treachery, thinking about the end of the meeting and heading straight for his office to get you home and spend his time with you, alone.

[teshadraws]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 59]

<< First | < Previous | Next >

-

Tobias and Nia head to Kaleido Bay to find Dismas.

-

Toby dips his fingers into cold yellow paint, taking a moment to wiggle them around and savor the sensation. He smiles. It’s not often that they get paint from the market instead of their homemade stuff, but there was a sale when Mama dropped in at the market yesterday to drop off the mail. This yellow is brighter than the kind they make at home, and thicker too.

Carefully, Toby lifts his fingers and smears paint on the rough rock wall of the cave, right where the sunlight shining from the entrance stops in a hard line of light. He’s working small right now, trying to put the finishing touches on the picture he’s been working on for forever.

Or an hour. Same difference, really.

Chipper humming accompanies him as he works, from his left. Vivi’s piece is a lot more…what was the word Papa used? Abstract. A lot more abstract than his. She seems to be working totally on instinct, barely pausing to wipe off her hands before jamming them into a different color to slap onto the wall. He can hear her tiny claws catch against the gritty rock every once in a while.

Toby uses careful fingers to paint the next part of his picture, one of the most important parts: the fire. He starts at the base and winds his fingers up to make trails of flames. Then he does it again, to thicken the yellow and help it stand out.

He leans back, hands tacky with drying paint, and tilts his head to consider his work so far.

Four charizard fly across the cave wall, close together in a diamond formation, their wings spread wide. Some of them look a little…lumpy. But the orange paint Papa made by mixing red and yellow stands out bright and warm against the tan of the rock, and he still thinks it looks nice. He even got the right eye colors. Blue for him and Mama, and green for Vivi and Papa.

“That looks good,” their papa says from behind them, where he’s been chipping away at a new instrument for someone, alternating between using his tools and his own sharp claws.

Toby turns his head. “Really? We don’t look too…lumpy?”

Papa rumbles a quiet laugh. “I am kind of lumpy, so I think it looks great. Why are my eyes blue?”

Toby frowns, looking back at the picture. “That’s me!”

“You’re going to be even bigger than me and Mom?”

“Well yeah,” Toby says. He crouches to dip a claw into the red paint, then adds it to the center of the flames at the charizards’ tail tips. Perfect. “Mama says we have to eat all our berries and veggies to get big and strong and you don’t eat all of yours.”

Toby can feel his father’s dry look on his back. He refuses to turn around, biting back a smile.

“Yeah,” Vivi chimes in, eyes still locked onto her colorful, blobby mess. “Why do we have to eat our greens if you don’t?”

“Because I’m already big and strong,” Papa says, laughter in his voice.

“But did you eat your veggies when you were a charmander?”

“…Yes.”

“Are you lying?” Vivi asks, turning with a suspicious expression. Her hands and arms are caked in different colors of paint, some dry and some fresh. She’s not wearing her oversized red scarf, for once. Papa convinced her to take it off earlier so she wouldn’t get paint on it.

“…No.”

“You are!” She says with an accusatory point, delighted.

Toby laughs, then sing-songs, “Mama says it’s bad to lie, Papa!”

Nobody answers Toby. The cave is suddenly silent. Somehow, the space feels emptier than it should.

Confused, Tobias turns. Papa is…gone. And so is Vivi.

Panicked, Tobias turns around, but no one else is here. Instead, the cave is dark, heavy clouds and distant rain dimming the light of the sky.

He’s alone.

Tobias backs up and trips over one of the paint bowls, catching himself on the wall. He freezes when he sees the hand that caught him, covered in red. He…he didn’t get that much red on his hand, he knows he didn’t. He was careful. But it has to be paint. It can’t be anything else.

Where is his family? Vivi? Papa? Mama?

Why is he the only one left?

Tobias jerks awake, nearly falling right out of the shelf he’s sleeping in. He stops himself just in time, and stares at the hand that he caught himself with. Dry and its usual orange color.

It takes him a few moments to recognize where he is once he looks up, panting.

It’s a quiet, dim room. Fairly spacious. Gray dawn light is just starting to leak in through the closed curtains. A fire pit sits in the middle of the space, only a few embers still glowing from the fire last night. Most of the alcoves set into the opposite wall are dark and empty.

Right, he’s…at the inn. At the human settlement. In one of the sleeping alcoves.

Tobias glances to his side, used to Nia sleeping right next to him. But they’d taken separate, smaller shelves when they first arrived here. Junie is probably snuggled up next to her still fast asleep. The room is silent, so it doesn’t seem like he woke anyone else up, either.

Tobias takes a deep breath, heart still fluttering in his chest, and rubs at his eyes, damp with tears. Ugh.

Tobias slips out of the alcove, glancing over his shoulder as he makes his way to the door. Nia is indeed curled up beneath a blanket in her own shelf, pointed ears just barely visible as they poke out of her cocoon. Junie is likely close by. Clara the innkeeper and a togedemaru who came in late last night are also sound asleep in their own little recesses.

Relieved, Tobias goes outside and closes the door softly behind him. Then he moves to the wall surrounding the town, standing atop the step at its foot so he can see over the barrier and into the valley below. The town is quiet at such an early hour.

Tobias closes his eyes and takes another shuddering breath, bending to press his forehead against the stone. He hasn’t had a nightmare like that in…a while. They do tend to surface more when he’s thinking a lot about the outlaw trio, though, so it makes sense.

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t hate it. He can still smell blood and rain.

Tobias hears the quiet flutter of the inn’s curtains behind him, then an equally quiet flutter of wings. He turns his head just enough to give Junie a tired glare.

The rookidee settles on the wall by his arm.

“Is Nia awake?” Tobias asks.

“Ha. No. She sleeps like a rock. I, uh…heard you.”

Tobias stays silent.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

Tobias grunts an affirmative, too tired to feel embarrassed. He looks out over the trees in the canyon instead. The sky is slowly lightening from black to gray, bringing definition back into the world.

“Do you want to, uh. Talk about it?”

Tobias snorts. “No. Do you?”

“Not really, but I thought I’d check.”

They both fall quiet again. The breeze carries voices their way from farther into the settlement. Tobias can faintly hear someone calling to the baker to put the next batch of rolls in the oven.

“Hey,” Junie finally says, hesitant. “Are you gonna be okay, today? Talking to that jerk in the jail cell?”

“Probably not,” Tobias admits. “But I don’t really have another option. I need answers, and he has them.”

“Fair. Just…good luck, then.”

“Aren’t you coming with us?”

“Nah. I think I’m gonna stay here until you guys get back.”

Tobias frowns, finally looking at the rookidee head-on. “Why?”

Junie shifts on her tiny feet. “Well…this seems like an important thing. To you. A, uh. Private thing. I didn’t think you’d actually want me there.”

Tobias is surprised she’s being so thoughtful. And for a moment he wants to agree. He remembers—vaguely—what he did at the crobat’s grave in the desert. He can’t imagine this will be much better.

But then he remembers what Junie said yesterday while talking about her parents, voice light with forced levity:

“They think I’m too annoying.”

“You can come,” Tobias grumbles, pillowing his chin on his arms again. “Just can’t promise it’ll be a fun trip.”

Junie doesn’t answer for a long moment. “Actually, I was thinking I’d stick around here anyways. You still don’t trust Will, right?”

Tobias frowns, looking at her from the corner of his eye. “…Right.”

“I could be your little spy on the inside. Hang around to make sure him and Rosalind don’t do anything suspicious while you’re gone.”

“You think Will’s suspicious?”

“Well…not as much as you do. But if Rosalind is so cautious, that’s kind of a red flag, isn’t it? And no one would suspect me of all people to be doing a little espionage. Might be good to see if I can notice anything weird going on.”

That’s…a surprisingly good idea. “Wish Nia thought the same.”

“Yeah. She’s not dumb, but she can be pretty dumb about this kind of stuff, huh?”

“Desperate is more like it,” Tobias mumbles. “She wants to go back to the human world so badly that it’s like she’s blind to anything that’ll get in the way of that.”

“We’ll just have to be her eyes, then.”

Tobias makes a vague sound of agreement. He admittedly likes the idea of having someone here to keep an eye on things while they’re gone, but…

“Just be careful. I don’t think Will would do anything obvious, but…”

“Aww, is the big bad lizard worried about me?”

Tobias fights the urge to shove her off the wall again, rolling his eyes. “Nia would be upset if you mysteriously disappeared.”

“Suuurrre,” Junie laughs. She nudges his arm with her whole body, and he barely feels it, light as she is. “I’ll be careful. I’m pretty good at acting oblivious and talking my way out of problems.”

“More like you are oblivious and don’t know when to shut up.”

“Eh, same difference.”

Tobias’ mouth twitches as he fights off a smile. “Well. Thanks, I guess. Don’t die.”

“Same to you, Toby.”

Junie stays strangely quiet after that. Slowly, the sun rises and light starts to paint the valley, color creeping over the land. After a while, more doors open and close. More voices greet each other as the settlement wakes and begins the day.

Tobias peeks again at Junie. The rookidee is a puddle of blue and black and yellow on the warming stone, eyes closed and feathers blowing softly in the breeze. For just the briefest of moments, he thinks of his dream, of little hands covered in paint and a grinning orange face, so much like his own, next to him instead. His heart clenches.

Tobias takes a deep breath and looks back out at the canyon. He needs to wake Nia soon. She got to sleep in yesterday, but he wants to make it to Kaleido Bay by a decent time today.

They’d geared up already the evening before, packing enough food, hydration berries, and water for the short trip south. Nia had clearly been reluctant to leave the little settlement behind before getting to explore it fully, staring longingly at the tailor’s shop in particular. Maybe they could stop by there on their way back through, before heading back to the Haven.

They’d also bumped into Fidel in the evening, and had let him know about their plans. The zoroark had seemed concerned, probably guessing that their journey south had something to do with Rosalind’s private chat, but he’d simply wished them safe travels, letting them know that there would be a place for them to rest when they returned.

Tobias turns, looking back at the inn. “We should get going. You sure you want to stay?”

“Yup! I’ll wake Nia if you wanna grab breakfast. It’s funny seeing her flail around in her blankets.”

Tobias huffs a laugh, agreeing and heading towards the little bakery a few buildings down. Their front door is propped open, the smell of fresh bread wafting out, so Tobias hesitates for only a moment before going inside.

Luckily, the simisear and chansey running the place don’t seem irritated to see someone so early. They’re actually apologetic for not having more to offer, only honeyed rolls and toasted nuts finished and ready for the day. Tobias quietly assures them that the food smells delicious before accepting three servings, each wrapped in cloth.

Tobias skirts past a scizor as he leaves, then heads back to the wall in front of the inn. He’s about to lean against it to eat when a flash of color he hadn’t noticed the day before catches his eye. It’s…a mural, painted onto the side of one of the buildings.

Tobias hesitates, glancing around at the mostly empty walkway before grabbing the food and moving to get a better look. He doesn’t leave the wall, but stops when he gets a better vantage point, food momentarily forgotten.

The mural is…interesting. It’s a happy scene, with a group of what Tobias presumes are humans gathered in front of a strange-looking building. A house, maybe, though it seems rather large. The humans look like the drawings he saw at the convention in Ghatha: tall, lanky creatures wearing lots of clothing, with fur atop their heads. The fur color is different depending on the human, as are their eyes and even their skin tone. Some are larger than others, and some are clearly older or younger. Tobias looks at them with fascination, scanning their smiling, laughing faces and body language.

What did Nia look like, as a human? None of these humans have blue fur, but it’s hard to think about her in any other color. Were her eyes still red? What did she like to wear?

“Finally got her up!” Junie’s voice says from behind him.

Tobias jumps, holding the food closer to himself as he turns.

Junie is flying circles around Nia. The riolu is rubbing her eyes as she walks, clearly still half-asleep. Their satchel is looped over her shoulder, though, prepped and ready to go for the day.

“‘Morning,” Nia mumbles. Wordlessly, she holds her red scarf out to Tobias.

Tobias sets their food down to follow the unspoken request, and ties the scarf around his partner’s upper arm. Nia waits patiently, sniffing the air, as Junie watches with a smug grin that Tobias doesn’t feel like investigating.

“Here,” Tobias says when he’s done, shoving one bundle of food into Nia’s arms. The other he sets on the wall, untying it with a tug of his claw so the sides fall open. Junie trills a happy noise and digs in immediately.

“Oh,” Nia says, perking up as she unravels her own meal, plopping down right on the stone to eat. “This smells delicious! Thank you, Tobias.”

Tobias grunts, joining her on the ground and taking a bite of his own food. The rolls are delicious, warm and soft with a thin layer of honey coating the top. The nuts are smoky, satisfyingly crunchy between his teeth. He makes short work of the meal, hungrier than he realized.

When he looks up again Nia is finishing up her own roll, but her head is tilted to the side, gaze focused on the mural.

“Which kind did you look like?” Tobias finds himself asking.

Nia blinks, focusing on him. “Hm?”

He gestures vaguely in the direction of the painting. “Those are humans, right? Which one did you look like?”

Junie titters above them, which means he said something stupid. Whatever. He ignores her.

Nia giggles, much gentler. “Well…all of them, I guess? But also none of them.”

Tobias scowls at that vague, cryptic answer.

Nia laughs again. “Really! We all look kind of similar, at least in general shape. There aren’t any differences as big as, say…a riolu and a rookidee. But we all look a little different from each other, too. In the human world, I have glasses, and long hair. Otherwise, I’m just kind of average, I guess?”

Tobias frowns, glancing between Nia and the mural. “What color fur did you have?”

Junie chokes on her food.

Nia smiles. “My hair? It’s brown. My eyes are too.”

Tobias has a tough time imagining that. He’s so used to looking at Nia and seeing blue and black fur and bright ruby red eyes. It’s hard to think about her as anything other than a riolu. He tries for a moment to imagine what she’d look like as a human, but can’t quite pull it together, even as he glances again at the mural for help.

Before Tobias can say anything else, a high voice interrupts. “You’re up early today!”

Tobias blinks, looking past Nia. A lillipup is bounding over to them. It takes a moment for Tobias to place the young voice.

“Asher!” Junie cries, peering over the wall, clearly delighted. “Hey, little dude!”

Asher morphs back into his zorua self, sticking his tongue out at Junie. “I’m not little! I’m bigger than you!”

“Everyone is bigger than me, kid. It’s not a high bar.”

Asher growls up at her, playful, before getting distracted and sniffing the air, much like Nia had minutes before. “Ooh, they made honey rolls?! Those are my favorite!”

“They’re really good,” Nia agrees.

“If they have honey, they’ll probably use it for dessert tonight too,” Asher muses, tail wagging. Then he blinks, looking over the three of them with new eyes. “Wait, are you leaving already?”

“Nia and I are heading south to Kaleido for a day,” Tobias says.

Nia opens her mouth, then pauses, blinking first at him and then at Junie in question.

“I’m gonna stay here until you guys get back,” Junie says, much more confident than when she’d suggested the idea to Tobias earlier. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on things around here while you’re gone.”

Nia frowns, clearly catching on to what Junie is implying. She looks at Tobias. He holds up his hands in return. “Don’t look at me. It wasn’t my idea.”

“As funny as it is to see you glare daggers at him, he’s right. I brought it up.”

Nia seems confused by that, but she doesn’t push, glancing at Asher’s curious gaze. “W-Well…all right. If you’re sure?”

“Yup! Just stay out of trouble since I won’t be there to bail you out, okay?”

“That’s our line,” Tobias snorts.

Junie kicks a nut at his head.

“If you’re gonna stay here, can we play?” Asher asks, bouncing in place.

“Sure, little man,” Junie says, grabbing her food’s empty cloth in a foot and fluttering over to drop it on Tobias’ head. He brushes it off with a glare. “I’ll even help you set up some sweet pranks if you want.”

Asher’s golden eyes shine. “Yes! I’m gonna go get breakfast, but then we’ve gotta plan, okay?”

The zorua takes off towards the bakery without waiting for an answer. They watch him go, amused.

Nia sits up, looking at Tobias. “Well, should we get going?”

The contentment in Tobias’ gut curdles as he remembers exactly where they’re going today. He takes a breath, then nods and stands. “Yeah.”

Nia gives him an encouraging smile, then turns to Junie, expression turning stern. “We’ll be back in a day or two. Do not give Will any trouble, okay?”

“Only if he gives me trouble first,” Junie says with a wink. She hops into the air, flapping to grab their food cloths like tiny flags. “You two be safe! Make sure you send a letter if you’re gonna be late.”

And with that, Junie is gone, following Asher towards the smell of delicious food.

Tobias leads the way out of the settlement right after. Slate the nidoking is on guard duty again at the front gate, and Tobias gives the scarred sentry a wide berth as they leave, picking their way down the rocky trail. He can feel the poison type’s eyes on the back of his neck until they’re out of sight.

The path is less treacherous when they can actually see where they’re setting their feet, but it still isn’t exactly smooth. Wiry roots snake in and out of the dirt, and rocks act like staggered steps, ready to trip them up. Scratchy, prickly plants edge into the path and grab at their ankles. The trail leads up and down and around, winding down the mesa like a great serpent. Overhead, the rising sun warms the world. There’s little shade to speak of, with the bulk of the trees sprouting away from the path.

It takes an hour for them to reach the bottom of the mesa, already breathing hard. They stop for a moment to eat some hydration berries and drink some water, then move on.

The journey is relatively quiet, both of them wanting to conserve their energy and likely thinking about the destination ahead. Tobias is, at least.

They take the same trail back through long grasses that they’d taken on the way into Will’s settlement, until they hit the wider, smoother dirt path of the main road.

It’s here that Nia speaks up.

“So…what’s the plan, when we get to Kaleido? Are we going straight to the prison?”

Tobias’ mouth twists. “I think so. We want to make sure we don’t miss visitation hours, and we can always check anything else out afterwards.”

Nia doesn’t answer for a long moment. The silence feels heavy.

“And do you…want me there? When you talk to him?”

Tobias stops and looks at Nia in surprise. “Yeah? Do you…not want to be there?”

Nia did have to physically hold him back last time they found out anything substantial about Team Zenith. And he can’t promise he’ll be any more composed during this meeting. He wouldn’t blame her for not wanting to witness that again.

Nia shakes her head, eyes wide. “N-No, I do! If you want me there. I just…didn’t know if you’d want to keep it private? I wanted to make sure.”

Tobias shakes his head. His face feels hot. The Tobias from a few months ago would be absolutely baffled by him willingly—gladly—sharing anything about his past. But this is Nia. The Tobias from a few months ago barely had a friend, let alone a best friend. “No, I’d…I’d like for you to be there.”

It’s easier to face something this terrifying with his partner at his side.

Nia smiles, something in her shoulders relaxing. Like she feels the same. He hopes she feels the same. He hopes he can calm her storms like she calms his.

Filled with renewed determination, the two of them continue down the path south, to Kaleido Bay.

To Dismas, and the answers he holds.

_____________________________________________________________

It’s mid-afternoon when they spot Kaleido Bay in the distance. They see the tops of the buildings first, white with rounded points like seashells, and it’s not long before they can see the city in its entirety. It’s a shimmering thing, sparkling white and silver with pops of bright color against the blue of the ocean.

“Whoa,” Nia says, stopping to take in the sight. “I thought Rosalind was joking. Is it really floating?”

Tobias squints, holding a hand over his eyes against the sun overhead. “Maybe?”

He hopes not—a city built on an island is bad enough as a fire type, but a floating one seems even worse.

Tobias grimaces, but moves forward again.

As they get closer to the city, they also approach the white sands of the beach itself. It’s a nice area even this late in the year. There are a few Pokemon walking along the shore or camped out for a picnic. A large group of younger ‘mon are chasing a ball down the beach, shouting to each other and making a game of it.

Despite the weight that has followed them since waking up this morning, Nia perks up, tail wagging slowly as she watches the scene. When they finally step off craggy rock and tough grass and onto soft, warm sand, the riolu takes a moment to wiggle her toes in it. Tobias waits for her to get her fill, silently following her lead. It’s a…strange sensation. But not awful.

The waves crash loudly this close to the sea, a constant and rhythmic shhSHHHshh…shhSHHHshh…shhSHHHshh. If they weren’t here for the reasons they are, it’d be soothing, Tobias thinks. He closes his eyes for a moment to let the cool, salty breeze wash over his skin and tries to let it soothe some of the tension in his gut.

Eventually, they get moving again. While there are ferry ‘mon carrying visitors to the city over the water, there’s also a single bridge leading there from the shore, for those poor enough to have to walk. Tobias heads for that.

As they get closer, Tobias sees that it’s a more complex design than he realized at first, white stone—concrete?—intertwined with some kind of shiny metal. Steel, maybe. Both substances are uncommon as building materials, at least in Tobias’ limited experience, but maybe it’s important for the infrastructure of this kind of place. As they take the steps up and start the walk across the long bridge, frothy white foam crashes into the bridge’s tall supports. Tobias is just glad that it feels stable underfoot.

The way to the city is long, farther out than Tobias would prefer, the blue-green hue of the ocean getting deeper beneath them as they go. The wind picks up, too.

They pass a surprising amount of Pokemon on the way, mostly locals and workers from the looks of them. Tobias spots a few raised brows and hushed conversations once they see him. Since the majority of Pokemon they pass are water types, Tobias guesses that they probably don’t see many fire types out here. He tries to ignore them, forcing himself to look straight ahead.

Posh tourists ride by in the water below, providing some distraction. They’re either sitting in boats or atop other Pokemon instead of walking on their own feet, with lapras, blastoise, wailmer, and dondozo ferrying them to and from the city. Nia quietly counts how many parasols she sees under her breath.

As they get closer to the island, it becomes clearer that the city is indeed floating. It’s not a natural island, a protrusion from the earth below, so much as…giant chunks of artificial land, linked close together somehow beneath the waves. The gaps between almost look like canals, with water types and canoes traversing them like little roads.

While the city is much too large for Tobias and Nia’s weight to make it bob, he does notice the slightest sway underfoot when they finally reach the end of the bridge. It unbalances him almost immediately, making him stumble like he just stepped onto the Aqua Jet again.

Nia offers him her arm, but he shakes his head, flushing. He’s already getting enough looks from curious passersby. He doesn’t need to be leaning on Nia like a crutch, too.

Tobias takes a minute to regain his bearings, then leads them into the city proper. Considering it’s apparently a hotspot for tourists, it’s unsurprisingly busy, with crowds of Pokemon chatting and laughing as they pass by. Most are holding wrapped cloth packages or paper bags, surely full of treasures from a bountiful shopping trip.

Nia is predictably looking this way and that as she tries to take everything in, nearly bumping into a few of the ‘mon they pass.

Tobias supposes he can understand why. The city is interesting, if nothing else, with its tall, rounded buildings of gleaming white and silver and seams of ocean water separating out different neighborhoods. The pieces shift in subtle ripples along the waves, the unusually large gaps between buildings—nothing like Ghatha and the human settlement’s close-crowded architecture—making them overlap in his vision in dizzying ways. It doesn’t help that most of the buildings also have their first floors hollowed out, open on three sides rather than enclosed with four walls. Those spaces seem to be dedicated to sitting areas, with water-resistant tables and chairs, or just as a place to store larger statues or toys.

The city is also surprisingly colorful. Shops and stalls have tented areas overhead for shade, and they tend to use bright colors and patterns in the fabric. Tropical, well-tended flowers grow everywhere in little plots of dirt, on building corners and under windows and bordering the canals. Some of the concrete buildings are inlaid with chunks of coral or painted with accents of color. Occasional mosaics pop up underfoot too, sprawling art pieces larger than a wailmer that depict flowers and water type Pokemon. And of course, the crowds of Pokemon wandering the streets only add to the vivid mix of colors.

Rosalind did mention that this place is known for its shops, but Tobias is still astonished by the sheer variety of merchants they pass. They’re all selling different things, from food to exploration items to non-necessities that call to the rich tourists around them. One stall is selling dried berry strips, while the one next to it is selling some kind of kelp, according to the sign below it. Apparently it’s grown right here in the city, underneath the ocean. A shop selling orbs and seeds “for protection in dungeons and natural disasters” is a tempting find, but Tobias knows better than to spend his cash when they don’t need to.

Useful shops like those are far outnumbered, though, by stalls that sell nothing but knickknacks and decorations, souvenirs from the city decorated with colorful shells and coral and gems. There are even one or two shops dedicated solely to fabric and clothing, some of which reminds Tobias of what he saw Pokemon wearing at the human settlement. Lots of jewelry shops, too, which is usually a rarity in Metreja.

There are cafés and bakeries and spas. A few ferry businesses. Artists selling their wares, ceramics and paintings and drawings.

It’s something else that captures Nia’s attention, though.

“Oh, Tobias! Look!”

It’s a little glass shop. Colorful wares cover the countertop: vases and dishware, platters and trinkets, statues and jewelry. Every piece is beautiful and well-crafted, delicate but sturdy. Patterns and gradients paint them in a rainbow of hues, some shiny and some frosted. Nia’s eyes skim over them, a wondrous expression on her face.

Just visible inside the open door of the build building, a monferno glassblower is sitting at a bench, hard at work. Across his lap, he turns a long, metal rod with a confident hand. At the end of it, a green bulb of glass is being spun. The fire type uses his free hand to pinch and pull at the probably-scalding glass, creating delicate curls and wisps. It takes a moment for Tobias to notice a smaller Pokemon, a blue panpour who’s the spitting image of the simipour running the counter out front, working too. She’s blowing at the other end of the metal pole—a pipe?—with her cheeks puffed. The two Pokemon look completely absorbed in their work, focused and totally at ease with the process, as if they’ve done it millions of times before.

Tobias wonders if this glass shop is the only one here in town. Glass is rare in his experience, but here it seems to be used more commonly. A few of the shops actually have large pieces of glass covering long windows to show off the wares inside, which Tobias hasn’t ever seen done before. There’s glass elsewhere, too, smaller panes on house windows and used in decorations like windchimes.

It’s interesting. If they weren’t here for a specific reason, if they didn’t have a world to save and outlaws to interrogate, Tobias wouldn’t mind learning more about the practice.

But the reminder of what they are here for pulls Tobias back to reality, and his chest tightens. He steps off to the side to watch as Nia picks up one of the glass statues, tracing a finger over its thin, pointed horns.

Right. They aren’t here to shop. They’re here for the pangoro held somewhere below the city. Dismas.

Tobias expected to feel ready for this, after so long. Instead, he isn’t really sure how to feel. He’s wanted answers for nearly a decade now. He’s been actively chasing Team Zenith for months. And yet now that some of his goals are within reach, everything doesn’t feel quite…real.

The anger Tobias holds for the outlaws is still there, of course. As always. It’s a quiet, seething sort of hatred, a low ember that only flares on occasion nowadays but that’s always, always lit.

But aside from that?

The vindictive part of him is actually a little disappointed. Upset that some other Seeker brought the pangoro in instead of him. But he doesn’t know how well he’d fare in a fight with one of his literal nightmares, so maybe that was for the best. He’d be useless if he panicked in the middle of a deadly brawl.

Even now, he’s anxious. Even if he doesn’t want to admit it. Both to just see one of the outlaws again, and to ask Dismas the question that’s been haunting him for eight years now.

Why did Team Zenith do what they did? Why kill his family? Why kill innocent children?

Why?

That single word makes him feel a tangle of emotions so thick he could never hope to unravel it. It feels a bit like nerves in his stomach. A bit like desperation choking his throat. He hates it. But he needs to know.

Every time Tobias tries to think back to that night, tries to think of anything that could explain why the arcanine and his crew suddenly turned on them, it’s like his mind can’t handle it and cuts the memory short. He’s gotten vague glimpses of the incident over the years, but most of them come at the cost of a panic attack that sends him spiraling before he can recall the night in its entirety. So since his own brain refuses to give him the answers he needs, he just has to ask someone else who was there. As much as he doesn’t want to.

“Would you happen to know how to get to the prison from here?”

Nia’s voice, directed at the simipour shopkeeper, yanks Tobias back to the present. He looks up.

The water type seems startled by the question, but then her eyes flick over their bag and the scarf tied around Nia’s arm. Hesitantly, she nods and points right, further into the city.

“If you follow this canal to the heart of the city and straight through to the other side, the entrance to the prison is near the edge of the island. Look for red coral out front.”

Nia thanks the shopkeeper, but the riolu’s smile fades as she turns to him. He can only imagine what expression he’s wearing.

“Are you ready? We can always wait until later tonight, or tomorrow, or…”

Tobias shakes his head and straightens up, ready to move. Nia seems to get the message. It’s now or never. Waiting will only delay the inevitable.

Tobias leads the way across the city, following the large canal the shopkeeper had pointed out. They have to cross a few of the city’s segmented islands to do so, and Tobias quickly decides that he hates the floating bridges that are used to cross the smaller canals. They wobble and sink underfoot and feel much more unstable than the city itself.

Kaleido Bay is beautiful, but it’s just too ingrained with the sea for Tobias to really feel comfortable. Nia clearly loves the place—as she does most places—pointing out something new and exciting to look at every few minutes. Whether that be a particularly elaborate tourist boat pulled through the canals, or a saltwater fountain in a little plaza where children scream and play, or a building that Nia says looks like a “church,” built with stunning glass windows that depict images of Pokemon in the ocean. Tobias doesn’t recognize them all, but he knows he spots Kyrogre, Lugia, and Manaphy.

As they near the edge of the city, where homes and less flashy businesses reside, they see more areas under repair, likely from the natural disasters that Rosalind had mentioned. Either this area got hit harder, being without a buffer against the open ocean, or it’s just the last to be fixed since it isn’t where the tourists go to spend their money.

The Pokemon on the streets here are more casual, too, and there are almost no ferry ‘mon swimming in the canals. No fancy accessories or shopping bags in sight. Likely locals rather than tourists. One or two give them curious looks, probably wondering if they’re lost, before spotting their scarves and looking away again to go about their business.

At one point, Nia nudges Tobias to catch his attention, nodding her head across the canal. He follows her gaze, finding a large group of Pokemon gathered around the wooden remains of a building that was nearly ripped off its foundations. The Pokemon in the group are talking quietly to one another, sharing sad smiles and hugs. A small seel is crying with his flippers covering his eyes, his sobs loud enough to echo across the water as a poliwhirl tries in vain to comfort him.

Tobias spots a pile of items—bright shells and coral, food and flowers and letters—stacked together neatly at the foot of the building. A lump rises in his throat.

“Is that..?” Nia murmurs.

“Funeral,” Tobias confirms, looking away.

“D-Do you think it was a natural disaster?”

“Probably,” Tobias answers. “I’d guess the newer buildings are made with the natural disasters in mind, but that one looked older.”

Nia glances back one more time at the decimated home, grief obvious in her slanted ears and limp tail. Tobias can imagine what she’s thinking about. That she’s feeling that desperation, that weight of the world, on her shoulders once more.

“We’ll fix it,” She murmurs. “Everything.”

Tobias nods but doesn’t offer his own reassurance. As cold as it sounds, he can’t focus on the rest of the world right now. Not when the pangoro they’re about to talk to is dominating every thought and every cell in his body.

They finally find the prison, a small building close to the edge of the city. The bulk of the exterior is white concrete and gleaming metal, but two pieces of tall red coral stand on either side of the door, framing it.

Tobias doesn’t realize he’s stopped in the doorway until Nia steps closer to his side, arms brushing. She’s watching him, and when he looks at her, she tilts her head. As if to ask if he’s sure about this.

He nods, ignoring the way his heart is pounding against his ribs. He takes a deep breath, then leads the way inside.

The interior is surprisingly small, with little more than a front desk and some shelves full of books and files. A large metal door dominates the back wall, so Tobias guesses that probably leads to the prison itself.

A smoochum is at the desk in front of them, sitting on what must be an unreasonably tall stool. She’s writing something on a document. When she finishes, she adds the sheet to a stack of paper to her right, which is already taller than she is. Then she grabs a paper from the stack to her left and starts writing again, only glancing up when the door clicks shut behind them.

“Can I help you?”

Tobias steps up to the desk, ignoring her impatient tone.

“We’re here to see prisoner D22.”

The smoochum lifts a brow, giving them an unimpressed once-over. “…Rank?”

Tobias considers lying, for a moment, before deciding that she’ll probably request to see their badges anyways if he aims too high. “D-Rank.”

“You must be at least B-rank for clearance to visit high-security prisoners,” the smoochum drones, going back to her papers.

“We have to see him,” Tobias says, slapping his hand onto the edge of the desk. He desperately wishes he was taller so he didn’t have to look up for this. “Let us talk to Jude. He works here, right?”

“Please,” Nia adds, pulling Tobias back with a hand on his arm. “It’s really important.”

The smoochum still seems unconvinced, but sighs. “Badges?”

Nia digs their badges out of their bag, handing them over the counter. The smoochum flips them over, giving them an idle examination before sliding them back.

“If Jude says you leave, then you leave. Got it?”

“Y-Yes,” Nia says.

“Tell him Rosie sent us,” Tobias adds.

The smoochum waves them off. She leans back to tug on a chain leading into the wall. The faint sound of a bell follows, then the click of a slat opening.

“Send Jude up. He has Seekers here looking to talk to a prisoner. They say ‘Rosie’ sent them.”

The slat clicks closed again. The smoochum doesn’t wait for an affirmative, wordlessly going back to her paperwork.

Tobias glances at Nia. The riolu shrugs, looking as uncertain as he feels.

After a few minutes of quiet, interrupted only by the scratch and flutter of the smoochum’s papers and Tobias’ restless pacing, the metal door on the back wall finally opens with a heavy grating sound. A large Pokemon, not much taller than them but long and wide, enters the room with slow steps. His blue-green plates look more like rock than skin, as do the craggy yellow points of his spiked shell. Beady eyes perch just above a jagged mouth, glancing at Tobias and Nia before turning to the smoochum.

He must be Jude.

“A turtle?” Nia whispers to Tobias.

“A drednaw,” Tobias whispers back, studying the water type’s surly expression.

Jude is saying something to the smoochum that makes her frown. She shakes her head. The drednaw makes another comment, too quiet to hear, and the smoochum hisses a response. The conversation gets more heated, until the smoochum finally just flaps a dismissive arm at him and returns to her work. Jude huffs, but finally walks over to them.

He leans in a little closer than is comfortable, voice hushed. “You said Rosie sent you?”

Tobias nods. “We’re Seekers. She said you can get us in to talk to a prisoner.”

The drednaw grinds his jaws with obvious irritation. “…Who do you want to see?”

“D22,” Tobias answers. “A pangoro named Dismas.”

“That’s just about the highest security prisoner we’ve got here. Why d’you want to see him?”

“Does it matter?”

“I can’t let just anyone in to see him.”

“B-But—!” Nia stutters.

“Rosalind said to remind you of Sahara City,” Tobias cuts in, silently praying this will work. “If that changes your mind.”

Tobias didn’t think it was possible for a Pokemon with such thick scales to visibly pale, but Jude does. He glances over his shoulder at the smoochum, as if afraid she’d heard. When she doesn’t pause in her writing, Jude breathes again, turning a glare onto Tobias. Tobias glares back.

After a tense moment, without looking away, Jude calls, “They’re clear. Get Miro and Toko to escort ‘em. They’re on duty right now.”

The smoochum actually looks up at that, visibly surprised. But after a moment she turns back to the bell and rings it again, passing along Jude’s request.

“Make sure you tell Rosie that I held up my end of the deal,” Jude rumbles, low. Then he lumbers past them, shouldering the door open to go outside.

Tobias is once again reminded that they should never, ever cross Rosalind. He exchanges an uncomfortable look with Nia.

Within a few short minutes, the metal door behind the front desk opens again, and a malamar and quagsire walk through. The malamar’s sharp yellow eyes skim over Nia and Tobias, move past them to empty air, then focus back on the smoochum at the front desk with a questioning look.

“That’s them,” the smoochum says, annoyed. “Got Jude’s approval and everything. Go on.”

While the quagsire seems unphased by this information, the malamar is clearly taken aback. Still, he doesn’t argue, instead stepping forwards to speak to them.

“We’re taking you to see D22, right?” The malamar checks. He’s expressive despite the rigid beak on his face. His tentacles make up for it, the ones on his head waving as if caught in an undercurrent and occasionally lifting like perked ears.

The quagsire stays silent, studying them with unblinking eyes. Despite her casual posture, Tobias gets the distinct feeling that she’s on-guard, and stronger than she looks.

“Y-Yes please,” Nia answers. “We, um. Need to talk to him.”

“We won’t be able to leave you alone with him,” the malamar warns. “Safety protocol. But we can give you half an hour of supervised visitation.”

Tobias isn’t thrilled about that—having two strangers in the room for such an emotionally vulnerable conversation. And only half an hour?

Still, he knows better than to argue. This could very well be Tobias’ only chance to get some answers about Team Zenith. About his family.

Tobias nods.

The malamar nods in return and gestures for them to follow him back through the doorway, stepping into the lead. The quagsire moves to trail behind Nia and Tobias, boxing them in.

Wordlessly, they’re lead past the front desk and out of the lobby.

Tobias is kind of surprised that they didn’t ask to check their bag. Maybe they trust Seekers not to bring in anything dangerous? Or maybe Jude or the overworked smoochum was supposed to check it. Whatever. Tobias isn’t going to bring it up. He feels better having their meager supply of items close by, anyways.

Instead, Tobias focuses on where they’re heading. The floor here is set at an angle, sloping downward, and the long hallway they’re in is dim as the door shuts behind them, the metal walls windowless. The only reason they can see at all is the light from Tobias’ tail flame, the yellow glow of the malamar’s spotted markings, and the soft green glow of…moss? Algae, maybe. It grows in impressive mounds out of little planters protruding from the walls every few feet. Like little balconies of light.

Below the algae, the hallways are also lined with well-maintained plants growing from water-filled basins in the floor. Tobias can’t tell what kind of plants they are in the darkness, the silhouette of them foreign, but the smell of saltwater is thick in the air under the lush greenery, so they’re probably ocean-based.

The hallway they’re traveling down goes on and on, curving slightly. A strange sensation builds in Tobias’ ears, and it takes him a moment to realize what it must be.

Pressure. They’re going under the waves. It’s getting colder, too.

A jolt of fear lances through Tobias’ gut, completely separate from his nerves regarding Dismas. He reaches over and fumbles Nia’s paw into his own, squeezing it. She glances at him, then tightens her own grip in return. He’s grateful she doesn’t say anything about it.

They walk for a few minutes longer, the quiet echo of their steps a soothing rhythm. The pressure gets stronger, Nia slowly cringing under its weight in her sensitive ears.

“Try equalizing,” the malamar says, breaking the silence. He glances back at Nia, then gestures with a tentacle at his face. “It helps with the pressure. Pinch your nose shut and swallow a few times. Or wiggle your jaw.”

Nia hesitantly follows the psychic type’s directions, trying first one technique and then the other. After alternating between the two once or twice, she perks up, tense shoulders dropping. “That helped a lot! Thank you.”

“No problem. It’s tough when you aren’t used to the pressure change.”

Tobias tries to subtly follow Nia’s lead, wiggling his own jaw and blowing air out of his nose. It does relieve some of the pressure that had built up in his ears and head.

“So are you two here on official Seeker business?” The malamar asks. Tobias can’t tell if he’s genuinely curious, if he’s just being friendly, or if he’s suspicious about why they want to talk to Dismas. Maybe all three.

Nia looks to Tobias for an answer, which is fair. Once again, he considers lying, but if they really won’t be allowed to talk to the pangoro alone, then they’re bound to find out why they’re here anyways.

“Personal matter,” Tobias settles on.

Thankfully, the malamar accepts that with nothing more than a nod. “In that case, I hope you get what you’re looking for from this conversation. Dismas is usually pretty straightforward.”

“That’s one word to describe him,” the quagsire says from behind them, voice soft. Both Tobias and Nia jump. “I would use the word cruel.”

“What was he arrested for?” Nia asks, hesitant.

The malamar glances back at them, lingering on whatever expression Tobias is wearing. He looks forward again. “Take your pick. Theft, destruction of property, murder. It’s the last one that shot him and his teammates to the top of every guild’s priority list.”

Murder. Tobias isn’t sure if the charge is even related to his own family. He’d managed to tell Maggie about the Pokemon who attacked his family, eventually, and he’s sure they put out some kind of warning around the mountains where he used to live, but he doubts that the years-late testimony of a traumatized child would be enough on its own for a solid murder charge. At least not without calling Tobias in to talk to an official guild member first.

Then again, Tobias supposes the crime would be pretty obvious when an entire family all but disappeared from their home. He doubts they ever found their bodies. He vaguely remembers Maggie murmuring questions to the medical ‘mon in the village, after some townspeople went to make sure there weren’t any other survivors. He remembers the way the doctor shook their head, how Maggie’s expression fell even further. Tobias doesn’t know if Team Zenith simply sealed off the cave to create a tomb, or burned everything until it was unrecognizable, or what. He doesn’t really want to know.

If there were bodies to bury, Maggie would’ve asked if he wanted to visit their graves before they left for Bethoc’s Haven. But she didn’t.

Tobias’ legs suddenly feel pathetically weak. Like they’ve been replaced with jelly. Some part of him, something small and young and scared, desperately wants to turn and run. Leave now before the truth is revealed. Before he has to face Dismas again.

He shoves that part of himself away, holding tighter to Nia’s paw.

“Well. Multiple charges of murder,” the malamar adds, quieter. “Merchants. A few Seekers. Suspected one-offs. He and his crew have built quite the reputation for themselves.”

Tobias feels nauseous. Somehow this has always felt so personal, Team Zenith’s crime against his family. But Tobias isn’t the only one they’ve hurt. Somewhere out there, there are others they’ve done the same to. Other families and friends and partners who are missing loved ones. Who are weighed down by a similar grief.

That familiar old rage surges through Tobias’ chest like magma. It makes it hard to breathe, makes it hard for him to think about anything aside from hurting Dismas like Dismas hurt him.

But Tobias can feel Nia’s fingers squeeze his, briefly. Can feel her gaze burning into the side of his head. So he closes his eyes, trusting her to lead them, and takes a deep breath. Another. Another. He won’t be allowed to fight a prisoner. He has to be civil, to a degree. He has to keep his head enough to speak, or this whole thing amounts to nothing.

He can’t waste this opportunity.

Tobias only opens his eyes when the darkness behind his eyelids shifts. Their footsteps sound different suddenly, less contained.

They’ve finally reached the end of the long ramp leading down. Ahead of them lies a metal hallway with multiple other hallways branching off of it. To different cells, maybe.

The floor is lit by the same green moss as the hallway they just left, but there’s an even fainter light coming from the walls as well, from tall, thin…windows? It takes Tobias a moment to register what he’s seeing through them.

The ocean is dark this far down, the water inky black, but more moss lights the environment surrounding the prison, growing atop silhouettes of rocky outcroppings. It creates a surreal effect, a gradient of soft green light and harsh black shapes.

Before he looks away, Tobias also catches a glimpse of brighter light streaking by outside. It comes from a lanturn, the lures dangling from the water type’s head glowing a warm yellow. A few seconds later, a vague shape carrying what looks like a moss-fueled lamp swims by as well, too quick to identify. Guards, maybe. Making sure the prisoners stay in or that any curious water types stay out?

Either way, Tobias can’t help wondering why the windows are here at all. He’s not very familiar with glass, but he didn’t think it would be strong enough to withstand the pressure of the ocean.

Just as he’s thinking that, the light catches oddly on one of the windows they pass. Ah, there it is—the unique shimmer of a move. Light screen, maybe, or reflect, reinforcing the glass panes. If he squints, he thinks he can even see the pale green hue of light clay acting as caulk, simultaneously sealing the windows in place and strengthening the effects of the protective moves.

He’s still not a fan.

“How do they get air down here?” Nia asks, distracting Tobias from his staredown with the windows. She’s quiet enough that Tobias isn’t sure if she’s asking him or just talking to herself.

“Vents,” the malamar answers. He motions up with a lift of his head tentacles. Tobias follows the gesture to see a slatted vent laid into the ceiling as they pass by. “Pipes lead up to the surface, and the greenery down here helps with oxygen generation.”

“And the windows?” Tobias can’t help asking. “Seems like a dangerous design choice for an underwater prison.”

“That’s by design,” the malamar says. “Don’t worry, they’re maintained daily. But they can be helpful, if we have an escape attempt. There’s a reason we don’t take water type prisoners here.”

Oh. So the windows are an emergency stop measure. If a prisoner tries to escape, they flood the room they’re in to slow them down?

Or maybe they just drown them.

Tobias shivers at the idea. Nia seems equally perturbed, falling silent again.

Tobias glances down the hallways they pass, expecting to hear jeering voices and see hulking shadows through jail bars. Instead, the cells seem to be individual rooms, each sealed shut by a heavy steel door with a crank in place to open it. A placard rests above each door with a letter-number combo etched into it.

Tobias watches with trepidation as the numbers rise as they walk, from D01 up to D05, then D10 to D15. Do they really need this many prison cells? Maybe they house more prisoners here than he realized.

Finally, they stop in front of a room. D22 is etched into the placard above the door.

Tobias feels lightheaded. He knows he’s holding onto Nia a little tighter than he should, but he can’t seem to relax his grip. The malamar says something, but it’s not until the quagsire steps in front of them that Tobias realizes they’ve been trying to give him a command.

“We’ve gotta step back for a sec,” Nia murmurs, tugging Tobias away from the door.

Tobias nods, barely hearing her as the quagsire puts their whole body into rolling the crank beside the door. With a low groan, the metal slowly lifts. The inside is a weakly lit green like the halls, but Tobias can’t see past the malamar’s twitching tentacles.

The malamar waits until the door is high enough, then slips inside with a quiet, authoritative, “Wait here.”

Tobias does so, heart roaring in his ears. When the door finishes opening and clicks into place, the quagsire steps into the malamar’s spot, guarding the doorway so they can’t enter.

Tobias can hear the rattle of chains and the muted tones of conversation from inside. Nothing discernible, but the deep rumble of a new voice stands out against the malamar’s higher tones.

Tobias’ stomach turns.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Nia whispers, just loud enough for him to hear.

Even then, even knowing there’s no possible way the pangoro could’ve heard, Tobias nods his head instead of answering, desperately wanting her to stop talking. He can’t be weak here. He can’t let the pangoro know that just the hint of his voice has Tobias on the edge of panic.

All too soon, the malamar calls out, “All right. We’re ready.”

The quagsire steps aside to usher them in.

Tobias steps inside. The interior looks just like the rest of the floor, lit faintly green by moss. Two windows, tall but slim, are all that offer a respite from the steely metallic walls and floor. There’s a flattened nest of dry, dark green moss in the corner of the room, large enough to easily fit Nia, Tobias, and all of Team Shellshock inside of it.

Tobias only has a moment to take all of that in before he focuses on the Pokemon sitting in the center of the room.

Tobias has always thought he must’ve exaggerated the pangoro’s size in his nightmares, but Dismas is just as big as he remembers. Even sitting cross-legged on the floor, the pangoro is easily three times their height, and just as wide. Coarse black and white fur does little to hide the muscles in his arms and legs, his limbs as thick as tree trunks. He looks like he could punch through the metal walls of his cell with no trouble if he really wanted to.

Which is probably what the heavy shackles on the pangoro’s wrists, ankles, and neck are there to prevent. Their chains, thicker than Tobias’ arm, lead down through gaps in the floor. They’ve been pulled taut, keeping the pangoro forcibly low to the ground.

Finally, Tobias looks at the pangoro’s face. Dismas looks…bored, almost. Tobias imagines he’d be sitting with his elbow resting on crossed knees and his chin planted in the palm of his paw if he had the range of motion to do so. His shadowed eyes are hardly visible.

Tobias swallows. He wishes Mom was here. Or Dad. Or Maggie. Even with Dismas tied down, Tobias still feels so small. He hates how vulnerable he feels as he steps forward, stopping a few feet away from the outlaw. Nia hovers at his side.

He feels like he’s nine years old again.

“You’re free to talk,” the malamar says. He moves past Tobias to stand guard at the door, Releasing the crank and closing the door with a flash of yellow psychic energy and a loud clang.

The quagsire waddles over to stand at the pangoro’s side, keeping a close eye on the criminal.

And then it’s quiet, and all that’s left to do is to find the truth.

[tinydefector]

At this point if we're making this a thing the God Rung x MC are we calling this AU MC the God fcker 😂😂😂

Because I imagine after few weeks or months now they'll gonna be comfortable enough to make joke out of it.

Tyrest some how still in the ship: you should pray before I kill you

MC: don't worry I already pray my hands in knees for your god and suck him off

Those who are watching this turn to Rung who's face already blushing red(or blue idk).

Rung avoiding eye contact: >\\\\<

Whirl: eh nice

I love God fucker MC, them being the feisty snappy human to the very sweet Therapist who is God. Got another Rung AU now to add to the Wings of Primus AU.

But I'm also now just thinking about what other human crew think. The number of Virgin Mary jokes. Fuck just the amount of Jokes in general which get thrown their way.

Rungs lover is going about their day blissfully unaware of the chaos that is multiple humans interrogating Rung. Him finally gets a breather and sneaks off to speak with them privately. "I believe the rest of your crew are rather concerned about our relationship " he says while fixing his glasses and trying to not to spook them.

"What have they been telling you now?" They ask with a soft smile when they finally see him. "They seem rather worried about me, umm.. putting a Sparkling in your chamber. " he tries not to wince as he explains the other humans rather crude thoughts.

It makes them tense up before shock and horror flashed across their face. "Ahhh. Don't listen to a word any of them say. Please, they are just trying to get under your plating. I promise they mean nothing by it!" Rung can see the embarrassment in their movements as he tries to calm them down.

"Please, just settle. I just want to know why they would be worried about something like that. One of them mentioned a book of your people, saying something along the 'second coming'?" He's curious but at the same time doesn't want to overstep if it's something rather personal to human kind.

"Ahhh, I'm going to strangle them, next they are going to say I'm Virgin Mary and start making jokes about that around ship" the grumble to themself only for Rung to scoop them up into his arms. "My dear, is there something I've done wrong, I know we talked about my 'issue' but it seems it's slowly becoming something that is causing you trouble" he had his worries even after they continued their relationship after the whole 'Primus incident' as they called it.

"Beloved, please talk to me." His voice is ever soft as he traces his digits across their cheek. They lean into his touch, taking a deep breath and sighing. "Nothing bad, I promise, just stupid Earth religion thing," they start, eyes flicking open to watch him. "Earth has its own collection of religions kinda like Cybertron, one of the stories is about a young woman who gives birth to the son of 'God', I think people are mainly making jokes over the similarities" they slowly explains, it makes Runsg optic flicker as he looks at them stunned.

"Oh my," he murmurs optics flicking down to their stomach, "you're not carrying?" He asked slightly worried only for them to laugh. "No, no I'm not carry handsome, humans like to make rumours tend to make alot more than Cybertronians, I'm more surprised it's only that God they are making jokes about" they tease softly while pressing a kiss to his lips.

His frame seems to relax into the kiss. " I would like to hear some of these stories one day" he hums against their lips. "I'll see if I can find a bible and some other religious text from some others, but just watch out, some fo them might start calling you Zeus" they chuckle. It makes him smile watching how their eyes catch light.

_______

Let me know if you would like to be added to tag list (tagged for every fic)

Taglist

@angelxcvxc

@saturnhas82moons

@kgonbeiden

@murkyponds

@autobot79

@buddee

@bubblyjoonjoon

@chaihena

@pyreemo

@lovenotcomputed

@mskenway97

@delectableworm

@cheesecaketyrant

@ladyofnegativity

@desertrosesmetaldune

@stellasfallow

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa

@shinseiokami

@tea-loving-frog

@aquaioart

@daniel-meyer-03

@pupap123

@dannyaleksis

@averysillylittlefellow

[adobe-outdesign]

What are your thoughts on the 25th anniversary pet colours?

As a whole, I really like the 25th anniversary colour. I have a few gripes with some more technical things, which I'll touch on momentarily, but I think it's a fun colour that stands on its own.

Visually, I think it manages to nail the three big aspects: base colour, individuality, and customization. For the base colour, the semi-opaque stars are a great nod to the Neopets brand that also happen to look "celebratory", and it makes sure the base isn't too similar to any plain colours. I've heard some argue that 25th anniversary is too close to starry as a colour, but I disagree; sure, they both have stars, but one is always blue with yellow stars and no wearables, while one is... not that. Like, you're never going to confuse the two.

I also think the colour works in terms of both overall coherency and and individuality. Each pet has a simple main hue for the base with stars, and then a few small celebration-y items for custimization. However, the base color is different for each pet and the wearables also vary, so each pet still feels unique. The wearables are also a nice touch because they add a little something and are unique to this colour, but are completely optional. It reminds me a lot of valentine in execution, which is a good thing.

The colour also comes in "celebratory" styles. The styles are variable in quality; some of them have really fun poses and good shading, while others look very flat and have very thin linework or strange proportions. However, I'm not quite as picky with these because they're all-new styles not based on any actual pre-customization art, unlike something like the recent dynamic Halloween and Ghost styles. Either way, I do like the styles and I think they add some life.

My only issue with this colour is that we only have, like, five pets in it. Don't get me wrong, it's normal to only get a handful of pets in a given colour when it debuts... but the reason is that each species needs to be designed, whereas here, we know most species already have a 25th anniversary design thanks to promo materials. It probably would bother me less except we have way more pet styles than we do non-styles, which feels kind of gross; almost like part of the colour is paywalled for certain species until further notice.

Also, my other minor beef is that "25th anniversary" is a very clunky pet name; not only is it a mouthful, but it doesn't make sense in-universe (the 25th anniversary of what, exactly?) and makes it weird to release 25th anniversary pets on any other anniversary, which they're apparently planning to.

Favorite Species:

Xweetok: Unfortunately there's no NP colour for this one yet, which like I said above I'm really not a fan of as a practice. However, this is a really 25th anniversary pet regardless. It comes decked out in a bow, wings, and balloons, and uses a pink/green/orange palette that really shouldn't work and yet somehow does. The winking pose for this one is also very fun and adds a lot of personality.

Uni: I don't know why I like the Uni so much; maybe it's just the nice rearing pose, or maybe it's just that I like the light blue, yellow, and pink palette. Regardless, it's very pretty, and that's coming from a person who normally isn't huge on Unis. My only beef with it is that the hair clip stars and the bow have colored lineart for some reason, and the bow is stapled directly on the body without a ribbon around the neck—a weirdly common problem with 25th Anniversary pets for reasons I don't quite understand.

Kougra: Of the five pets to currently have both a NP option and a style, the Kougra has a very fun base color; a mix of red, blue, and yellow that's kind of similar to the base red Kougra but also not at all. There's not a whole lot of wearables, but the Kougra's fairly complicated default design combined with the colours makes it kind of work, seeing as it would likely look too busy otherwise. My only issue with the customized version is, similar to the Uni, the stapled-on tie with colored linework, though at least you can remove it here. The style is nice, more expressive but not over-exaggerated; proportions are a bit off (the head is way too big, and the body's a little too skinny), but that's not a huge deal.

[nicolesainz]

Tricks and champions (SV5)

Sebastian Vettel x f!reader

Summary: Retired Sebastian means he’s all the time at your house, hanging with your father ever so casually. There no denying that even with an age gap, you two fancy each other but try to keep it low key. What happens though when you become a passenger in one of Seb’s crazy rides?

warnings: massive sexual tension, angst, fluff, age gap

"God's sake Y/n, go put on something more decent. Sebastian is coming over." My dad said before I could even walk down the stairs. What a nice way to wake up.

"Good morning to you as well dad." I roll my eyes and walk up again to put on some jeans since he so politely asked.

I look through my wardrobe thrice in order to find a fitting one that won't have my dad raging over it. I finally manage to find one that not only won't have my dad protesting over it, but certainly will have Seb staring at my ass for quite some time.

The bell rings as I am trying to put on some light make up. A touch of red lipstick and a hint of eyeliner is what a girl needs at 10 am after a night of doing tequila bodyshots off her best friend.

Its insane how the entire night I was thinking of Sebastian, dancing with me in the middle of the club, his hands all over my body, holding me firmly and laying kisses on my neck, leaving marks of his ownership on me.

But it's a pity this was only a fantasy. Even though many guys came up to me to make their move, I rejected them easier than the way colleges reject my brother's applications. Sebastian was probably with my dad again, showing off his brand new Porsche 718 Boxster, a gift that he got from his former teammate Mark Webber.

"Y/n, can you come down for a moment please?" My father shouts and I clench my fists in annoyance. I swear to god if he asks me to be a servant again and make him coffees every now and then I will spit in one of them.

I walk down the stairs one more time and I can see in my father’s eyes the relief of me wearing something decent, more importantly my eyes fall on Sebastian who is scanning my body for head to toe, giving enough attention to my slightly showing cleavage after wearing the push up bra.

“Good morning Sebastian. How can I help you dad?” I say in a very polite manner, crossing my arms under my breasts, enhancing the volume and shocking Sebastian even more.

I know it’s filthy, I know it’s dirty. He’s 36 and I am 21, but it’s not my fault Sebastian is an extremely handsome man, with beautiful blue eyes, soft blonde curls and a mustache that not only makes him very fuckable but also fitting to my type.

“Actually, Sebastian was looking for volunteers to test out his new car. He wants a passenger so he can try out some new tricks he’s learned or test some he already knows from the formula one car.”

“And since you were always very keen on sports cars, I thought you’d be very fitting for the job. What do you say?” Sebastian adds after my dad, and all I do I smirk at the idea of him flexing his racing abilities whilst I am teasing him so badly.

“Of course! I’d be more than happy to help you out!” I smile and exclaim proudly, whilst putting on my jacket.

“We will talk in three hours. Y/n, behave yourself, I know you’re a lady and obey to what Sebastian tells you to do” Oh I for sure will obey to his commands. Whether that’s me praising his skills or sucking his dick.

“Let’s go! The track is clear now and I’m allowed free access.” He grabs his keys and we walk outside together.

“Wait, what do you mean track? The Nürburgring? Really?” I reply shocked and Sebastian nods excitingly.

“Oh god you’re gonna kill me, aren’t you?” I say with fear in my voice, once we get into his Porsche, Seb’s hand lands softly on my inner thigh, caressing it.

“Oh no Liebling, I would never hurt you. At least not like that.” His grip is more intense, as I flinch but do not remove his hand from my thigh. The touch is affecting me more as I feel my cunt slightly watering with the thought of his fingers inside me.

“Not like that? You have other plans Vettel?” I look at him and with a twist of my body, my breast slightly show even more now, my bra almost popping out. That causes Seb to groan a bit as his eyes land on them and then swerve back on the street.

“Let’s just say my torturing methods include pleasure. And especially when it comes to you.” His hand moves up more than it should, caressing up and down my fully clothed womanhood. Oh dear god that feels good and you can barely tell his touching me.

“And who says I’ll allow you to torture me?” I softly moan accidentally and try to bring myself back into my senses.

“You heard your father. Obey to what I say.” he lowered his voice and I gulped hardly. For most, Sebastian was a sweetheart but who said he wasn't a secret devil?

Once he removed his hand and placed it back on the wheel, I instantly regretted on agreeing at this ride. He is a massive soft spot for me and I am way too vulnerable when I am with Sebastian.

He knows me ever since I was a kid and he was rocking the formula one world by winning four consecutive world championships with red bull. Even though he retired last season, I still see him as one of my favourite drivers.

And I see him as my secret temptation as well.

Sebastian always told me that I would have a bright future in motorsport. Whenever me and my dad would visit him during the race weekend, I’d always spit random facts or stats just to show of my intelligence.

I will never forget the moment when Sebastian won this third world championship in Brazil and after he got out of the car, the first person who he hugged outside of his team was me. He picked me up, because I was wearing a jersey with the phrase “Weltmeistet 2012!” Followed by a picture of him, posing with the infamous index finger.

The exact one he dares to finger me with if I misbehave.

Luckily, my house is close to the circuit, so in less than 20 minutes we have arrived. The gates are fully open and we pull up from behind the garages, whose gates are open and probably have been since 2020.

When he enter the pit lane and the bar is open as well, he drives slowly all the way to the start-finish line. We sit there in silence for a moment before Sebastian looks at me with a devilish look in his eyes.

“I need you to be completely honest with me. I need to know if grandpa Seb still has it in him.” He says and a giggle escapes my lips with the characterization he used for himself. Grandpa.

Daddy? Sure. Not Grandpa though.

“Come on Seb. You’re not that old. You left Formula One a year ago. I don’t think a four times world champion gets rusty this easily.” I reply to his statement with all honesty.

“I’m not old enough to fuck you sweetheart. But to pull the tricks you’re about to witness, maybe.” I gasp at his comment and my eyes widen. Did he really say what I heard?

He turns on the engine once again and the quickly speeds through turn one but instead of drifting, I feel the car balancing on Seb’s side only.

“Stay still schatz.” He says, fully focused on the road.

I am even trying to hold my breath, besides my balance. What is he doing?

The car steadies itself back after turn 4 and speeds once again without breaking through turns 5 up to 7. After that, he breaks slightly and the car swerves at the front and drives with the two front wheels only.

“Are you trying to get us killed? What did I ever do to you?” I hold on to my seatbelt as Sebastian laughs out, trying to be extremely careful simultaneously.

“For you my dear, death with be slow and sweet. Don’t you worry.” I don’t know what is going on inside his mind and whether I like it or not.

Thankfully at turn 12, we balance once again and I let out a loud sigh. Slowly the drives up to turn 13 when I suddenly notice a ramp in the middle of the straight, closing on turn 16.

Sebastian fully floors the speed and I shut my eyes, as I feel the car levitating from the ramp, but surprisingly not falling down as abruptly as I imagined, drifting into turn 17 and then straight to the start-finish line once more.

Once I open my eyes, I look next to me and Sebastian is eyeing me with a raised eyebrow, waiting for my reaction.

“If that was your plan to kill me, then I’m glad it didn’t work. Nevertheless, I was surprised and weirded out on how you know all these tricks. Also, I was a bit fascinated, not going to lie.”

“Do you really thought I was going to kill you? My baby? I’m not as cruel as you think. And thank you for the compliments.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Who taught you these tricks?”

“I think the person you should refer to, is your father.” He unbuckles his seatbelt so he can turn to face me more comfortably.

“Impossible!”

“And yet true. Why do you think we are this close? Near death experiences bring people together.” He winks at me and my eyes roll all the way back to my fluttering heart.

“My old man has impressed me.”

“And now it’s time for this old man to as well.”

“Weren’t these tricks enough?”

“So you want me to stop then baby?”

“No. Definitely not.”

“So definitely not huh? Haven’t seen you this sure about something ever since you decided to dump this pathetic boy of yours. And I still don’t know the reason why.”

“If only you could look inside my thoughts.”

“I can look inside your thighs if you want me to.”

“Is that an offer Vettel?”

“More like a statement, but take it however you like. As long as it comes true.”

Sebastian brings his face closer to mine, his lips are ghosting over mine and his hot minty breath filling my lungs with joy and extreme desire. His tongue swipes my lower quivering lip and a moan is my reaction to his actions.

“Care to share your thoughts darling?”

[justalittleficsideblog]

Hii

I really liked your post on a few of the Obey me! boys' reaction to reader touching their wings, so I'd like to request a similar one, but with reactions to the reader asking to see/touch the boys' tails (I'm especially curious for Barb and Levi)

Tysm, have a nice day!

ooo anon! Thank you sm for this, I hope barb and levi's parts are what you hoped for. I only did these two since I hope to do the other's another time. thank you for your request!!

MC with Barbatos and Levi, Can I See Your Tail?

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Levi

You had first taken a notice to it when he was raging at his game or show. He was arguably the most common to switch into his demon form when he was frustrated, so you had picked up on when his tail would pop out.

At first, you had just watched it swish swish swish back and forth like an irritated cat. When he calmed down, it would disappear.

Fast forward to the present, in a fairly intense scene with a show you had both been yelling at the TV, you didn’t fail to notice the long slender tail popping out from underneath the blankets.

He was lying on his stomach, his head in his hands as he unknowingly held his tail in the air, the scaly tip of it dangling down in an arc.

“Can you believe they added that?! What kind of director adds those sorts of—”

You had zoned out when his tail began flicking over towards you, tickling the top of your head as he fanned it side to side. You had never been one to absentmindedly touch something without thinking. You weren’t sure if it was because his incessant swishing had put you in a trance or what, but the way it was moving alongside his actions made you a bit more curious.

“Hey Levi? Can I see your tail?” you interrupted his rambling, causing him to whip his head towards you, all interest in the show lost.

“W-what are you talking about?” he fidgeted, his tail suddenly curling downwards, closer to his body.

“I don’t think I’ve ever gotten an up close look at it, it seems kind of expressive.” You shrugged, moving to grab a chip from the bags in front of you.

Suddenly, the tail was in front of you, raising the tip as though it had a mind of its own, peering up at you. You noticed the ombre affect of the scales when they reflected the blue light of his room.

Without thinking, you reached out to touch it, gently dragging a finger along the side of it as you cradled it in both of your hands.

“H-Hey!” his tail twitched, trying to wiggle out of your grasp. “I didn’t say you could touch it!”

Quickly releasing it, you add “I’m sorry! I didn’t realize it was sensitive.”

“I wouldn’t say that…” he mumbled, the tail now burying itself into the blanket.

With your curiosity sated, you turned back towards the show, picking at the popcorn in front of you. Levi, now flustered at your actions, decided to be a bit brave.

You felt a lock of your hair get pushed behind your ear. Turning in surprise, you felt the tail brush along the side of your face before working its way into your hair, parting your hair in weird ways and flopping it over your eyes.

You both laughed at the action.

You noticed that throughout the rest of the night, his tail remained out sneaking touches and wrapping around your form to nudge you closer into him

Barbatos

It wasn’t common that you saw barb’s tail. It wasn’t that it was rare, really. It was more that he was really good at hiding it and being out of sight, which was something he was very skilled at in general.

Deciding to take it upon yourself to catch a glimpse of his tail up close, you had managed to get yourself to help him with chores.

When you reached out, he was skeptical at first. But he was fairly used to your antics by now, so he offered that you both work on making some dishes for the young lord.

“MC, you’re getting flour all over the floor.”

You huffed, moving to grab the broom to add the flour to the ever-growing pile that now rested in the corner of the kitchen.

Barbatos chuckled softly, you had been working hard all day. From helping him organize materials, cleaning out the halls, and now to cooking with him. He was enjoying the quality time, but he assumed you were going through all of this effort for something. He just couldn’t figure out what.

 “MC,” he offered politely. “Was there a particular reason for your… visit today?”

You shot up, eyes wide. “Not at all! I was just hoping we could spend some quality time together.”

He rolled his eyes, “Although I commend your efforts, I find it hard to believe that your idea of quality time involves catching rats and sweeping halls.”

Well… he had you there. So what if you wanted to catch a glimpse of his tail? The idea had stuck into your head and now you were just so curious about seeing it you realize you might’ve went overboard.

You sigh, chest falling as you place the handle of the broom against the countertop.

“This is going to sounds really weird, but I was honestly hoping to catch a glimpse of your tail.”

His brows furrowed. “I’m not sure I understand. You decided to do chores with me in hoping my tail might be seen?”

“Ok well when you put it like that it seems kinda stupid, but yeah.” Your face was burning from embarrassment, and you tucked your chin in to avoid looking at him. It sounded kinda creepy, but you hadn’t meant anything weird by it, honest! You were still so fascinated by how everyone’s demon forms were so unique that you—

Two (sorta slimey) slender tendrils caressed either side of your chin, gently bringing your head up to meet his gaze.

“You honestly could’ve just asked,” he smiled, tending to the dough in front of him.

You, however, were reeling from the texture of his tail on your skin. Prying the tips from your chin, you maneuvered his tail so that your hand was gently holding it, sort of like the snakes you saw being held on those nature documentaries in the human realm.

You took notice of the color change towards the base of his tail. Without thinking, you trailed your fingertips from the top towards the middle of the tail, feeling the difference in texture as the color shifted.

Barbatos shivered, and just like that, his tail was gone.

“Sorry,” you rubbed the back of your head. “Did that feel weird?”

“Not… weird,” he scrunched his nose. “It’s just that not many beings have dared to come close enough to touch it.”

You giggled at that, “Well thank you! And I promise I’ll still help you finish the cooking.”

Barbatos watched as you effortlessly swapped back to working. He was not one to easily be flustered, but he felt… off. His heartbeat was uncharacteristically fast, and his tailed coiled around his leg, the place where you had touched felt oddly sensitive.

From then on whenever you came around or spent time with him, he made sure his tail was present. From gently tugging on your attire for attention or to stabilize you when you tripped. You never mentioned it, but you could’ve sworn that it hovered behind yourself when you walked with him.

Barbatos swears there’s no meaning behind it, but you notice he smiles behind his hand when he turns away.

[v-ternus]

Voyeur

I started thinking of voyeur Rain, and I started thinking about how Rain likes to make his partners wreck themselves on his words alone. Then all of a sudden, I wrote this. Do I have other things I could be working on? Absolutely. But freak Rain demanded to be written.

Under the cut cause this ran away from me and it got long

Sure Rain love's going to pound town as much as the next ghoul, but what if, sometimes, he's content to just watch, to order.

He'll move a chair to the foot of someone's bed, probably Mountain, right in the middle so everything is in view. He'll light candles all throughout the room and start up the fireplace, making it warm, lighting it up in flickering reds and yellows.

He hurries then, rushing out to find Mountain in the common room, and giving him that all too familiar look before leaving just as quickly. As Mountain trails behind him, already filling out in his pants, he cant wait to get his hands on his water ghoul. He's excited, blood running hot through his veins. Until he clicks his door shut behind him and sees the chair in front of his bed.

His stomach drops, knowing the ache that awaits him, he's done this more times than he can remember. He could say no, have the night play out differently just by saying one word. But the way Rain kisses him is sickeningly sweet, and the way his cool hands graze over his skin as he strips him has his brain melting out of his ears. He can never say no.

So he settles himself in the middle of his soft bedding, naked as the day he was summoned, spreading his legs just how Rain asks him to. He shows his aching cock off, letting Rain watch as his cunt clenches around nothing. But he doesn't touch, not yet,. He lays there rolling his hips, squirming as if its going to earn him an friction.

At some point, Rain will grow tired of his pleas and he'll tell him to run his hands over his cunt, get his fingers coated in his mess. If he's feeling particularly nice, he'll let Mountain hold his chubby little cock between his fingers and tell him to stroke it nice and slow.

"Show me," Rain would order, and Mountain would look down at him as he spreads his fingers, watching his slick stretches between them. Rain will chide that he's wetter than a water ghoul.

Mountain never understands how Rain can just sit there watching, looking unbothered with his hands gently rubbing over the armrests.

Even as he listens to the wet noises of Mountain's fingers dipping into his wet cunt, telling him how fast to go or how to curl his fingers and press on that spot that makes him see stars, his face doesn't waver. The only time his demeanor changes is when he tells Mountain to add finger after finger, stretching himself open.

"Just like my hands baby, imagine they're my fingers" He smirks as his mate whines and begs till he's blue in the face, wishing it was Rain who was touching him like this, feeling his soft walls clenching around him.

"Grab the toy Mount" And he's more than happy to, aching for the chance to feel that heavy fullness, until it registers that Rain chose the biggest he owns.

"Rain..." Mountain doesn't think he can take it, not on his own at least, and Rain knows that. But that's part of the fun. He knows how to take Mountain apart whether he's touching him or not.

"Get it in on your own, or I'll make sure you don't cum for a month" Rain gets excited at the fear that spreads across Mountain's face.

"I've got all night"

[afyrian]

ch. 8 - love, unadulterated love m.list

    a small vase rests on your counter, your handiwork written all over it. the slight grooves where your fingers ran alongside it, the small signature in the bottom of the vase. even the colors feel reminiscent of your pieces. the warm oranges and browns swirling around the vase in a peaceful motion. 

  you hold a bouquet of flowers from calico blooms (exchanged for a couple of plates with flowers carved in them), water droplets covering your fingers. staring at the red tulips within, the yellow roses sprinkled without. even the blue forget-me-nots add a drop of contrast. each flower picked with a special message in mind.

  love. unadulterated love. from each petal in the tulips slightly opening to each thorn pulled from the roses. every step of the progress led you to staring at it in the vase. a few seem out of place, your hands moving them around in an attempt to perfect the look of it all together. biting your lip, you shake your head, whispering to yourself, "it's just not right..."

  maybe you should be focusing on making sure everything else is ready for his arrival, but your eyes can't seem to leave them. your hand grabbing another flower to move around. in creating them, you wanted to subconsciously tell him that you've felt something. that something must be between the two of you. especially because the words just won't leave your lips. 

  so, it has to be perfect... everything down to the last drop of water on a petal. setting the last flower in, you can feel the petals brush against your hand, the soft touch only reminding you of osamu. of his kindness.. the softness that he harbors. you smile to yourself, shaking your head slightly. "if kiyoko would see me now..." holding back a smile, you head for the front door.

  flipping the sign to closed, the sun still shines brightly into the room. it covers the floor in a fun game of twister, the rack of ceramics twisting and manipulating the light into odd shapes. taking in a deep breath, you take a step towards the counter, hoping to sit for a moment and ground yourself. 

  however, you don't have much time as a light knock rattles the door, a soft voice on the other side, "y/n?"

  turning back around, you can see him through the glass. he's holding a woven basket in one arm, the other resting by his side. you grab a hold of the door's handle, pulling it open so you can fully see him. leaning against the side of the door, foot resting over the other, "hi... again."

  "hello, you look beautiful today. well, everyday, of course-" osamu's eyes search between yours, a small smile growing on his face, a genuine rush of heat covering his cheeks, "but, uh, i brought refreshments."

  holding up the basket, he shrugs, watching as you smile back. there's always been something about him, even in your sullen grudge and unsure feelings, you've always known there'd be something about him. the way he looks at you, it's nothing like you've ever seen before.

  "thank you, and it's nice to see your hair, it suits you," you reach up, instinctively ruffling it up, like you've known him for forever. like it's something that you've always done in an affectionate manner. 

  stepping back, you look down, mentally cursing yourself for doing such a thing. although, you can’t help but peek at the sunlight waving through the stray hairs. the way it lights up his dark hair in a way that you’ve never quite seen before. it’s beautiful, he’s wonderfully beautiful. “uh, so i already have the clay on the wheel, it’s ready for some molding,” you grab an apron for him, holding it as he sets the basket down.

  “i’m very worried about messing this up,” he looks back at you, taking the strap on his apron and resting it on his neck.

  taking the back string, he skillfully ties it himself, the way his biceps move under his shirt sends your heart rate soaring. looking away, you head over to the wheel. “you’re going to do great, i honestly don’t think you could do anything wrong,” you joke, grabbing an extra stool and setting it by the one he’ll be working on. 

  “thank you, y/n, it means a lot,” osamu joins you, sitting down in the stool, his legs spreading outward so he can move closer to the wheel.

  joining him, you begin to explain the process. you start by handing him a bucket, the both of you getting your hands wet. grabbing his hands, you guide them around the ball. maneuvering his fingers and palms so that they’re in the perfect position. his hands are rather soft within yours. osamu’s eyes constantly flickering towards you as you explain each step, from the way his thumbs lay on top to pushing it upwards to make a cone shape. 

  he moves diligently, eyes narrowing as he tries to keep up with your instructions. when he brings it back down, you grab his thumbs, pressing them into the center, “so you’ll push down here to make a divot. wait, here, let me show you.”

  standing up, you stand next to him, leaning down slightly. taking his hands in yours, you lay your thumbs over his. pushing his down, he pushes down into the clay, his heart beating quickly against your bicep. you look over at him, wanting to congratulate him on doing so well. however, when you do, he’s already looking at you. 

  his eyes glow in the sunlight, your gaze unable to stop itself from peering at his lips. the little space between you, the way your heart is beating quicker than you’ve ever experienced. “osamu-”

  “yeah?”

  “could i kiss you?”

  “absolutely…” his head leans towards you, slightly tilted as his lips meet yours.

  and you can finally taste the food on his lips. the rice and pork mixture that you wonder is in the picnic basket. but ultimately, you can feel the warmth that you’ve always known he’s had. the way his nose brushes against yours, the softness of his lips matching perfectly with his hands.

  it’s habit, but your hands make their way to his face, your thumb running over cheekbone. you feel goosebumps run along your arms. even your feet cross at the ankles, moving slightly as he smiles into the kiss. “wow,” you whisper, leaning back slightly, forehead resting against his.

  “wow’s a good word,” he breaths heavily, foot moving off of the pedal, “but did you have to put clay on my face?”

  laughing, you lean your head back, moving your hands away from his face. biting your lip, you can see the slip covering his cheeks and chin, even touching his nose. he shakes his head, leaning forward again, “no, no, i do like your hands there.”

a/n: next will be the epilogue :D

taglist: @causenessus @osakis-gf @eggyrocks @brkfclub @marisabel14

@bbybibi @etoiile @miyamoratsumuu @girlokarina @gsyche

@cherrypieyourface @zephestia @acowboykisser @whosmarjj @gumiiiiezzzz

@guitarstringed-scars @19calicos @savemebrazilhinata @phoenix-eclipses @theycallmenanamisgirl

@softpia @certaindreampost