#the goal here is just to wait until i tap her to go get the thing

[abirddogmoment]

We took our steadiness training out into the wild last night!

[coucouatoi]

now you're in my life... | h.s.

Pairing: Harry Styles X Reader

Warnings: sexual tension, slutshaming, women being viewed as wives and baby makers only (not by Harry), fluff, Harry being a gentleman, implied age gap, smut

A/N: Bridgerton fic incoming!! I'm late to the Bridgerton party but I've finally rewatched it all... also didn't reread a 7th time so if u find any errors, sorry <3

Summary:

Dearest Gentle Readers, remember that a Bridgerton Courting season is never complete without some juicy drama. Here's some tips to stay... out of trouble:

1- Don't attempt to stand out

2- Don't even try to become the Diamond

3- Don't get caught with Londons most sought after bachelor in a compromising position

Good luck readers!

Lady Whistledown

Travel is exhausting. It always is.

Travelling with the end goal being dancing, presenting yourself, being courted and then wed is excruciating.

Your mother, bless her, is more excited than you've ever seen her. The carriage is already quite cramped with you, her and your younger brother squeezed tightly against each other. Her legs bounce constantly, her fan is flapping like she wants it to break in half and the lessons. Oh god, the lessons. A second of silence is too long. You have to be bombarded with rules and tips to make you the perfect debutante this new season.

Your brother, however, is barely spoken to. He is not going to be presented to the ton until a few more years have passed. The conversations seem to bore him. Bore him so much that he has seemingly slept through the entire trip... or at least pretended to.

Your trip to London is quite long. You have taken a boat and ridden so many carriages your behind has most likely become flatter. Today is the last day of travel thankfully. You'll be arriving at your family's English estate soon enough, your father is probably already waiting in the steps most likely impatiently tapping his foot.

He and your mother are still obsessively in love with each other. Married three weeks after courting during their first-ever year as debutants. First child, you, nine months later... after that things slowed down. It took them twelve years to have another child and now, six years later, she's gotten pregnant again. Their grand finale as they keep calling it.

You can only wish that you'll be able to find someone who makes you feel even just a smidge as happy as your parents make each other. That there's someone here, in London, who will make a worthy husband and an even more worthy father.

Your mother's squeal startles you out of your thoughts as you turn into the estate. She must have spotted your father.

The time has come, you must now be the best future bride possible for all the men in the Bridgerton ton to run after.

-

You feel absolutely ridiculous. Who allowed this to be the standard for debutantes?? A feather tucked into your neatly styled hair but not just any kind of feather it's not small or dainty, no. It's tall. Taller than most things in the room. On your tiptoes, you could reach some of the lower ceilings with it. The dress is fine, the gloves are only a little itchy and the shoes are actually quite pretty. But that damn feather...

"Are you sure I can't just accidentally set it on fire?" you grumble to your mother who is your sponsor for your official debut this season.

"That would certainly bring attention to you... I'll entertain the thought" she quips with a small smile.

"I look ridiculous with it! What's the point of looking like an ostrich? Is that what English men find desirable?" you're incredibly confused. This can't possibly be something that attracts suitors...

"The Queen demands it, my dear", she rubs your arm reassuringly, "We don't want to upset her"

You shrug in defeat. Your mother is right, no one would dare go against the queen. Especially when you are to be presented in her court.

The two women in front of you are escorted into the ballroom as their names are called. The doors close as the debutante bows to the Queen.

This is it. You're next. You're going to walk in front of the entire ton as fresh meat. Someone they don't know.

Your father owns an estate here but you've only been to London twice before this. Never enough time to make friends or make any kind of impression. Hopefully, they don't eat you alive.

Your mother fusses over the sleeves of your dress. Then she tugs your gloves up, making them pull uncomfortably at the webbing between each of your fingers. You let her fix anything that she deems askew or not perfect enough. It's the nerves making her twitchy. As the doors open in front of you she pushes the feathers you wear deeper into your up-do.

"Y/N L/N and her mother Lady L/N" Your mother locks your elbow with hers as you walk forward.

The room is littered with people, London's finest and richest gathered to see what fresh meat this courting season brings.

The other debutantes are lined next to each other facing the door, their mothers or older sisters behind them peering over shoulders.

Once your eyes lay on the queen you suck in the breath you were about to take. She sits on her throne like she was born to be on it. Her head held high but her eyes inquisitive. She eyes you up and down, more than once, it makes you stand up straighter. You want her to like you, get her and the rest of the ton curious.

Your mother lets go of you as you get closer to the Queen. The last steps you take are the most nerve-wracking ones you've ever taken. All eyes are on you; men, women, debutantes, the queen's harem, potential prospects.... Everyone.

You bow to her, deeply. Your right leg goes behind your left, you bend your knees and your head tucks down towards your chest. You stay like that, it's only polite to stay low as long as you can but when your foot starts feeling numb you stand back up.

She's in front of you. Eyes locked on your face, she examines it as a smirk forms on her face. The Queen approves of you.

"My diamond, make me proud" She taps your cheek once, twice, thrice before kissing your forehead and nodding her head as she makes her way back to her throne.

What does she mean by Diamond?

-

As soon as you enter the Bridgerton ball with your family you're swarmed. It's as if you're the newly set dessert table.

Potential suitors waving pens in your face begging for a spot on your dance card.

Is this what being the Diamond is all about?

Being chased around like you're nothing more than a cheap prize to these men? That's probably what you are to them...

You fill out two dance spots at random before managing to wiggle your way through the crowd and into the actual festivities.

The ballroom is enchanting, with flowers of every kind scattered all around the room. You feel like you've stepped into an indoor garden, everywhere you look there's at least one blooming plant. It's gorgeous. You want to stay in this room forever.

The dance floor is currently occupied by couples, waltzing around each other, the choreography running through their veins as if they were born knowing them.

It's all so hypnotizing. The dances, music, seeing the ton gossip so proudly, the men trying to woo this season's debutantes and the women batting their lashes waiting for someone to walk up. It's a game, all of it and you love being a witness. Well, a player now...

"They have a buffet!" Your little brother exclaims as he runs through the crown and straight for a table littered with a large array of foods. He's going to be distracted there for at least 2 whole dances. You have the next dance clear for now so you take the time to wander around, head held high as you take everything in. Your mother had fused incessantly over how you should act tonight and over your chosen outfit. It had to be:

- Fit for a diamond (whatever that may be)

- Have flowers, by order of the Queen

- Unique enough to attract attention

- Modest but not prudish

Complicated demands under the time restraints you had but she made it work. Calling upon her best modiste contacts and personally seeing to the design of them. You have to admit she has done quite the selection for you this evening.

Your gown is a light green, sage might it be? There's a thin layer of darker tule over the bottom half and your sleeves, giving it dimension. The area that goes around your bust and upper back is lighter and full of gemstones shaped like different flowers. It looks like the modiste managed to sew an entire bouquet into the fabric. The gloves are sage as well, going past your elbows and trimmed with the same darker tule. Your mother had a spare ribbon of the sage silky fabric saved for your hair. It's styled into the updo, weaving itself perfectly between the colours of your neatly styled hair. Smaller gemstones have also been placed precariously to make sure you shine as bright as any diamond should.

They've done an excellent job at making you look like a walking dream. Tempting, gorgeous and almost unattainable.

The song that is playing is about to end, which means you're about to have your first dance of the evening. You can't even recall with whom you had simply grabbed a random pen and wrote the colour of his jacket. Too many names had been screamed at you for you to decipher which was his. Hopefully, whoever occupies your first spot manages to find you and whisk you away to the dance floor.

As the couples either leave the dance floor or get ready for the next song, you look around somewhat panicked. Is your first slot not even going to find you? That would be slightly humiliating...

"Lady L/N" you turn swiftly toward the voice behind you. "I'm Lord Talag, pleasure to finally make your acquaintance" Lord Talag takes your hand and presses his lips to the back of it. His suit is blue with silver stitching, your very first slot. He leads you to the dance floor and you both take the first positions for the waltz. The violins start first and you're instantly moving.

Arms gracefully twirling over your head as you spin backwards. As you turn you can't focus on Lord Talag but you know he's doing the same thing. When you stop your turns and face your partner, you see that he's fallen. On his ass, on the floor, in front of everyone. The other couples around you stop abruptly to not trip over him.

"My Lord! Are you alright?" you gasp reaching out to help him stand. However, he ignores your attempts to aid him back on his feet and dusts himself off.

"Good evening, Lady L/N," he says and rushes out of the room. He resembles a kitten running to beg their owner for a treat: legs kicking quickly, bum shimming from side to side, a determined expression...

You're left standing in the middle of the dance floor as everyone looks at you with a confused expression. Your own must look quite similar to theirs. Your first dance partner for the evening has walked out on you. All because he fell on his ass. Men, am I right??

Taking a breather after the embarrassing moment Lord Talag put you through is essential. You can't possibly face the ton as they gossip about it. His chances of finding a bride now are squashed, he's the laughingstock of this courting season. Well, for now at least...

The midnight air is crisp. The cold air prickles at your skin causing goosebumps but you enjoy it, your skin had heated up under everyone's stares. There's no wind, no sound (besides the muffled voices inside) and only a slight orange hue glows around you on the balcony. There are some oranges perched around you and over your head. They aren't quite ripe yet but they do look particularly inviting.

You turn to rest your bum against the marble railing, lifting your head towards the sky. The stars are bright. Brighter than you would have imagined to see in the city. They reflect over the artificial pond under you, seemingly dancing on the ripples. It's all so peaceful.

"Don't you think it's a little cold to be out here without a coat?" the deep voice has you jumping out of your skin. You turn around abruptly to see who's sharing the balcony with you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know someone was already here" you bow politely already stepping towards the door. You're not about to have two incredibly embarrassing moments in one evening. Would the Queen be tempted to take away your 'Diamond' status?

"There's no need to leave!" He rushes towards you, his right arm extended towards the door and body facing you. You back up quickly not wanting to make any accidental contact. You're unchaperoned in a private setting with a man... Please let no one come outside!

"I'm sorry if I startled you. I just realized you were holding onto yourself quite tightly... as if trying to heat up" he adds moving away from you as he stands up straight again. He must have realized how compromising this could seem.

"Oh! No, I'm actually comfortable... I'm just overthinking" you clarify for the mysterious, albeit handsome, man. You don't want him offering his jacket or anything of the sort. That would look even worse.

"Ah, I see. These types of events always bring out the worst in people" he laughs dryly as he shakes his head. It's almost as if he's recalling a specific memory. "I'm Harry, Duke Styles if you want specifics"

DUKE??? Your nighttime patio buddy is a DUKE?? This could not look any worse. You have to leave the secluded area now! Before anyone joins you and screams indecency.

Your panic must not be very well concealed as Har- Duke Styles, gets closer to you again with his hands raised.

"I'm not going to bite you, please don't panic" his hands are waiving slowly in front of your face. He's trying to demonstrate that he means no harm but all it does is make you jump back. Your mother would berate you if she knew what was happening right now. "What's your name?" he asks in a soft tone.

"Um, I'm... I'm Lady L/N" You somehow manage to speak in a slow and stuttering manner but it worked.

"The diamond?!" Oh god. He didn't even know. "How do you have time for a breather? Isn't your dance card full?" he sounds completely shocked.

You shake your head rapidly. It's the only answer you're able to give him before the patio door bursts open as a couple attached at the lips tumbles outside. They walk straight into Lord Styles, making his knees give out and then falling straight into you. His hands grasp your waist and arm seemingly trying to get himself straight up on his feet again. He fails. He keeps falling unfortunately dragging you down with him. His left hand, the one holding your arm, quickly moves to the back of your head before it makes contact with the stone floor. The other at your waist stays there but his grip tightens, you can feel it firmly through your corset.

The couple has separated from one another and they are now looking at you both in shock. They were most likely not expecting anyone outside. They are speaking, well you think so. Their lips and arms move erratically but there's only a high-pitched ringing in your ears.

The hand on the back of your head tilts it away from them, your eyes meet Lord Styles. They are wide, worried, panicked. You're not sure why.

He's talking too but he must be whispering as the ringing is still the only thing you hear. It's getting annoying; you want to know what he's saying to you. It seems important.

Your vision blurs right before it darkens completely. You've passed out not even knowing of the commotion you've caused.

-

Tule, satin, silk, needles, charcoal drawings on the walls, books scattered on various surfaces... Where have you found yourself now? You seem to be in a study of some sort that also serves as a studio. You manage to sit up slowly, the pounding in your head spiking for a second before it settles.

"Mother?" you call out in a weak voice. How did you get here? Or better yet, who put you in here? No one answers your call so, at a snail's pace, you manage to get into a standing position. Your legs are stronger than you thought they would be, aiding you in your quest to figure out where in the Queen's name you are.

As soon as you leave the study your eyes burn because of the bright sunlight streaming in the hallway you now find yourself in. Blinking a few times makes your eyes adjust quicker making you able to tune into your other senses.

You hear mumbling, a few different voices leak out of the room right next to where you had been sleeping. You try to make out what they saying but nothing makes sense in your mind. You can't even hear them enough to confirm if you know any of the voices.

Not even considering that some may think it rude or even improper you open the door and make your way inside.

Lord Styles is the first on his feet; almost seems like a knee-jerk reaction. His posture is tight, and uncomfortable he is standing straight as a ruler as he looks at you with a terrified expression.

"My darling!" your mother rushes to you as fast as she can with her swollen feet and round stomach slowing her usual pace.

She brushes your hair out of your face before embracing you. She holds you tight but carefully as if to not break you.

"How do you feel?" she asks you once she pulls away.

"Fine, I think. My head hurts quite a bit but it's bearable" You smile at her reassuring as your gaze drifts back to the man still statuesque in the middle of the room. You don't find words to say but you do walk towards him. You don't like seeing him this uncomfortable... especially in what seems to be his estate.

"This is yours? The house?" you ask him gently. His eyes meet yours and the tension seems to bleed out a little. He's a bit more at ease seeing that you are polite and cordial with him.

"Yes, we thought it was best to bring you back here... less scandalous" He gestures to your father and he only nods back as an answer.

"Less scandalous?" you look around the room, at the three people surrounding you with different expressions on their faces. Your mother; excited, your father; thoughtful, Lord Style's; embarrassed?

"Why is your estate less scandalous, Lord Styles?" you meet his eyes, hoping to somehow be able to read his mind. Figure out why he's so closed off now. He did seem pretty willing to talk to you on the pat-

The patio. Oh my. The patio!

"Why am I here Father?" your headache spikes when you turn your head rapidly towards him. His expression tells you all

that you need to know. You're now engaged. There's no scandal because you're going to wed Duke Harry Styles.

"An outdoor wedding would be gorgeous this time of year, don't you think so Y/N?" your father smiles at you kindly. He's happy with the man you've managed to "score", even if it isn't a love match like him and your mother.

You only nod at him before looking back at Lord Styles, whom you find to be already looking in your direction. He meets your gaze and bows his head in a polite gesture, welcoming you. Welcoming you in your new home, into your new life as a Duchess.

The wedding is set to happen in 9 days. The first wedding of this year's courting season. Your mother has been on top of everything, she's practically planning the whole thing. You and Lord Styles, your fiancée, let her do it... after all this was a surprise to both of you.

Today you're choosing your wedding dress. The last dress that you'll wear as the incredibly eligible and sought-after diamond. The dress you'll become a bride and then a wife in. You'll become a duchess, Duchess Styles...

"What do you think of this one, dear?" your mother is holding a white gown with delicate baby pink embroidered flowers all over it. You nod approvingly making your way back behind the changing partition as she brings it over to you. It's only the second one you're trying on so your spirits are still high. Madame Delacroix, the modiste, was much too eager to have you wear one of her gowns on your big day. Said it was "Perfect marketing!" and she led you to her newest collection that was apparently straight from France.

You manage to slide it on with no issues and as you're about to ask the modiste for some help with the clasp in the back you hear a voice you don't recognize say your name. You stay quiet hoping to hear what they are saying.

"You haven't read Lady Whistledown yet?! This one is so juicy, she talks about Duke Styles and the Diamond"

"Please tell me you have a copy of it on you! I need to know how that happened"

Are people really this eager to know how you got engaged?

After the first girl presumably pulls out a copy of whatever they were talking about they start reading it aloud.

"But how could I forget to mention the most surprising moment of the courting season yet? London's own most wanted bachelor, Duke Harry Styles, has found a worthy bride. He does shoot for the stars, doesn't he? Or rather in the mines... as the newest Duchess soon joining the ton is Lady L/N, the Diamond.

However, the choice seems to have been made by herself and herself only. Who wouldn't throw themselves at him just to be caught in a compromising position? I certainly would! Her parents must be so proud to have such a stellar whore seductress presented this season.

The hopefully happy couple already share a house, how warm is the Duke's bed? Has Lady Y/N done what so many other noble women have wanted to do?

Congratulations to the happy couple... See you at the wedding!

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown"

Your blood runs cold, you're frozen in place after hearing what was written about you. You don't even know who these two girls are, who the writer is or where this paper comes from. Is that really what people think of you? That you whored yourself to Duke Styles to secure a wealthy and powerful man? You haven't made a single friend yet and now this is what people are saying about you, how are you meant to live amongst them now?

You quickly undress yourself of the wedding gown and get back into your dress, you somehow manage to clasp it yourself. Before running out of the boutique you hand the dress back to your mother and take a quick look at the girls that were just gossiping.

They are already looking at you with wide eyes and shocked expressions. Well, at least that's what you think their reaction is to seeing you practically trip out of the shop.

You don't hear what your mother calls out to you, too concerned with the humiliation pumping throw your veins. You need to get back to the Dukes manor as soon as you possibly can. You're grateful to have ridden here separately from your mother so you don't have to leave her stranded with no carriage and very pregnant. The ride back feels never-ending... How can you ever face the ton again?

The bath water is almost boiling, perfect to wash away the shame you felt. Your mind is all over the place. Nothing you can come up with will fix this, you're stuck labelled as some desperate whore. Does your betrothed know who this woman is? What those papers are? If anyone and everyone reads what she writes about other people? The lies she creates to make things interesting... You didn't even manage to find a gown you liked for the wedding... You might now not even be able to face the public, would the Queen allow a private wedding for her diamond? Probably not.

"Oh! I'm sorry I didn't know you were back" For the second time today your blood runs cold. The scorching hot water feels icy against your skin as you look up to meet Duke Styles's gaze.

He is also stuck where he is. His feet seemingly glued to the floor, one hand holding the door handle and the other stopped halfway done unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes leave your face and trail down your nude body under the water. No man has ever looked at these parts of you, he isn't supposed to see them until your wedding night.

He swallows when his gaze snaps back to yours, probably just registering what he was doing.

"I'll let you bathe, sorry for interrupting" he turns around quickly but before he can close the door you call out to him.

"Who's Lady Whistledown?" your voice cracks halfway, desperate to get an answer that no worker has answered. Not the chariot driver, not the gardener, not even the maids that helped prepare the bath everyone avoided your question. "Why did she write about me, my lord? About us?"

He takes a few seconds to walk back into the room but eventually comes in and shuts the door.

He sees there is a small stool in the corner of the room, the maid has used it to undo your hairdo when you got in the bath. He grabs it and places it next to the tub, close to where your face is. He sits facing you with one of his arms resting on the edge, trying to look nonchalant.

"Call me Harry, no need for formalities between us" is the first thing he says, you nod as your answer.

Before speaking again he takes in a deep breath and wipes down his face, looking for a way to explain this.

"You read it?" your voice is meek, he saw that she called you a whore. He read that you threw yourself at him to trap him.

"I did. Only because the men at the club told me to" he answers honestly. "I told them that what she wrote was wrong. That yes our marriage was unexpected but not an entrapment"

"Did they believe you?"

"Yes, after I told that I am very satisfied with my future wife. How lucky I am to have such a gorgeous lady share my house, such a smart lady in my life. They wouldn't dare question me or us" his words shock you. You didn't know if he was satisfied with you or your engagement. There hadn't been a conversation about it but you're happy to hear he doesn't resent you.

Harry seems to read your mind and tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, he lets his hand fall to your shoulder after.

"She called me a whore, a seductress. I've never even let a suitor hug me... Much less seduced one" his eyes bore into you. They are enchanting and so inviting. You want him to look at you this way always like you're the only thing he could ever look at so attentively.

"That's what she does... Last season she almost destroyed Lady Eloise Bridgerton... You haven't met her yet but she didn't leave her manor for the rest of the season" his hand is rubbing from shoulder to shoulder, pinky finger grazing the very top of your breasts at each movement. You don't move or break the eye contact it feels good.

"The ton eats her words up but don't waste time thinking about what she thinks, she is a coward saying all of this nonsense anonymously" he shakes his head disapprovingly.

"So there is no Lady Whistledown in the ton? Is it an alias?" your questions stays unanswered but it is obvious that is what he was saying. No one knows who she is or rather who they are.

Harry's hand has travelled lower without you even noticing he's gone past the water and travels from your chest to your stomach. It seems casual and natural like you've done this a million times before.

Silence stretches as you take in the small amount of information about this person who spreads false claims about you and the man currently exploring your body.

He is now going up and down your legs switching legs once in a while. You don't know what he's doing or why he's doing it but it feels so intimate... so good that you don't stop him, you don't want him to.

You will bear his heirs and pleasure him when he wants you to but what he is doing now seems to actually pleasure you. His fingers graze your core and you gasp as the sensation takes you by surprise. This breaks the trance he had been in as he rips his hand away from your body and out of the water then out of the room before you can even get a single word out.

You finished your bath shortly after with your skin still tingling from where Harry had touched you. The ghost of his fingertips exploring places no one has touched not even yourself. You wanted to see how far he'd go, what he would do to you, how he would keep exploring your naked body. Seeking him out feels desperate but you have to know how far he was willing to take you. Was he just as affected by the intimacy? You knock at his chamber door softly praying that he doesn't reject you. "Come in" you hear him speak through the thick wooden door.

You quickly smooth out your sleeping gown before making your way into his chambers. This is the first time you've been in them, the amount of fabric, mannequins and art around the room surprises you. You had previously seen his work room where he designs and creates many different clothes but you had no idea he had more where he rests. You find Lord Styles lying on his large bed with one arm covering his eyes. He hasn't realized that's it you that's walked in yet so you take some time to look over his designs. You see some suits, daywear, and gowns of all kinds but then you stumble upon one that is called "My Bride". You pull it out from under some other sketches. The gown he's drawn is breathtaking, tight bodice detailed with what you think must be lace and gemstones, there's many layers of lace going downwards towards the bottom of the dress giving the impression of a flower that has not yet bloomed. He's added a simple shawl to the sketch which just adds to the elegance of the look.

"Would you make this dress for me?" your voice is loud in the otherwise quiet room. Harry startles on the bed, clearly not expecting you, sitting up quickly. He holds your gaze for a few seconds before looking at the paper you are holding.

"I can, if you want me to make it for you I will" he nods looking back up, studying your face.

"I'd like that" you smile "I'm much too ashamed to go back to the modistes anyway..." you put the drawing back down on his desk. At this point, you are only pretending to be looking around his space. Your goal is to make your way to his bed... try to get him to touch you again.

"There's no need for you to be ashamed. They should be ashamed, the ton is over-critical of newcomers" he leans back on his hands the now completely unbuttoned shirt falls off of his torso, revealing it.

"I suppose so... it's still disheartening to think that people think like that about me" you sigh walking towards him again. His eyes don't leave you he seems to be analyzing you, your actions, your body, everything.

"What can I do to make you feel better?" he tilts his head in thought, "Threaten anyone who looks at you wrongly? Find this Lady Whistledown and burn her out of existence?"

"You..." Okay, deep breaths, this is when you'll make your move, "You can touch me again... Keep doing what you were doing?" the pitch of your voice is much higher than usual as you finish your suggestion. You avoid meeting his gaze, too embarrassed to look at his reaction.

What you hear isn't an answer but the sound of him moving on his bed, towards you? God, you hope so. You still don't totally understand what his touch made you feel or why it has you craving for more. You don't even really know what "more" means.

"I wouldn't want to ruin you as some say" he guides your head towards him, forcing you to meet his eyes, so intense and inviting.

"Well, they already think you have... I just want you to make me feel good" You don't back down keep your eyes on his.

"Have you ever made yourself feel good?" Harry's voice is deeper than you've ever heard, it sends a shiver down your spine.

You shake your head as an answer, the ability to speak lost when he placed his hands on your hips. He tugs you forward, bringing you so much closer to him it makes you flush. He hums in understanding, still debating if he should do this or not... but the look on your face, the curiosity and the neediness makes his decision very easy.

He gently pulls you to lay down on his luxurious bed, the silky sheets and soft mattress feel glorious. You could stay in his bed all day long.

"Don't you resent me? I cut your first courting season quite short" he gently pecks your cheek before gliding across your lips to do the same to the other. You unconsciously follow his lips trying to have them meet yours again, you're already in a mental fog of pleasure and he's barely touched you.

"Can't answer, doll? Mh... don't worry I'll make you feel good" That's when he kisses you. Properly.

You let him take complete control as you've never kissed anyone. You don't want to make it unenjoyable for him or yourself so you follow his lead. His hands slowly bunch your nightgown up revealing more and more skin, skin that he is now seeing for the second time. He separates from your lips to look down at you, to admire your figure. Goosebumps spread all over as he delicately rubs his hands up and down your thighs spreading them apart adding him in lying down between them.

His face is inches away from your most private parts. Parts that have never been seen by anyone but your aids when getting dressed or cleaned. To aid him you didn't put any underclothing on, hoping he would accept your request. So, he's staring directly at you, making you flush from embarrassment.

"You want me to do this, gorgeous, you're sure?" your eyes meet his. His expression is unreadable, you've never had someone look at you like that. Like he wants to eat you whole.

"Please Duke Styles" you answer in a soft voice, he smirks at your answer and immediately gets to work.

What you're feeling is something completely new, foreign, unbelievably good; The curl of your toes as his mouth meets the skin you've never even explored yourself, the arch your body does and the loud gasp that slips past your lips. Who knew you could feel this way? Why did no one tell you that you could feel so unbelievably good?

Your hands grab onto the edges of the pillow you're lying on and you try to meet his gaze or maybe just to see what he's doing looks like.

Harry's eyes are already on you, your gazes meet easily, his pupils are dilated and his brows furrowed. He's so concentrated...

His tongue circles your clit sucking at it before letting his free hand join. His middle finger teases your entrance, not wanting to take your purity, he'll be somewhat of a gentleman and keep that for the wedding night.

"Ah! Harry" you moan desperately, desperate for something you don't even know, begging for him to keep going. You have an urge to shut your legs together but Harry's pushes onto your left one, keeping it pinned to the mattress.

The hand that was teasing your hole slowly goes up your nightgown, touching your skin delicately as he works his way up to grab your breast. His hand is warm on your chest, grabbing and massaging the skin he reaches.

He uses your slight distraction to prod his tongue inside of you exploring the few inches he's able to reach. Maybe exploring your inside isn't so bad... You'll be married no matter what happens...

His hand leaves your chest and makes its way back down, circling your bud. He can feel how close you are so he zeroes in. Lost in your pleasure and on his quest to make you feel good. Make you forget about the judgement the ton regards you with. He pinches your clit making your body lock up and your breath hitch but Harry doesn't stop. He keeps going until your whole body is spasming against his mattress until you're unable to make a sound with your mouth agape in pleasure.

You don't feel anything besides the tingling going from the tip of your fingers to the tip of your toes and the ends of your hair. Your heartbeat slowly stops being so erratic and your breathing calms down. As you start wondering where Harry has gone you feel a damp cloth rubbing against your intimates. You shiver at the feeling, obviously still sensitive, flinching when he gets close to your sensitive bud.

"How do you feel, my lady?" Harry's voice is soft and tender. Probably trying to preserve the warm atmosphere around both of you.

You hum positively as an answer, words lost as you meet his intense gaze.

"Cats got your tongue?" his tone is teasing. He throws the cloth away and joins you on the bed. You shake your head with a smile.

"I'm lost in thought" is the first thing you say to him, "I will be for a while after that" you sigh dreamily as you get comfortable in his sheets.

"Mh, maybe we should rush the wedding, get the Queens blessing for her diamond to wed in a rush... you won't speak a week after what I'll do to you" You just might have to march into the royal palace first thing in the morning.

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Butterflies! Kate Is Alive AU Part Two!

Butterflies!

Riley sat there, rather stunned. Despite everything Kate knew, it did not do more than confirm what Riley had already suspected. The information was interesting, for sure, but it didn’t lead them any closer to their goal. Then again, if it would then Kate wouldn’t have given up. I suppose. Riley thought to themself.

“Look, there are some tapes scattered around this room if you want to watch them…” Kate sighed.

“Are you going to stick around to watch them with me?” 

“No… I’ve already watched them all… over and over… you know that, I gave you my notes. But I suppose two eyes are better than one. Let me know if you catch something I guess…” she turned to leave. Riley had never heard her sound so drained before. “Wait! Amanda has been talking about you! She says she misses you, and wants to talk to you again! Please, just this once, will you watch a tape with me?” 

“Fine. But afterwards I really do have to go.” She pulled a tape out of a bug catching net and handed it to Riley, who put it in the VCR. 

The tape begins with Amanda coming out of a store, silently staring at an at-home butterfly habitat for kids. She seems content. There are little caterpillars crawling around inside.

“Don’t worry little guys… you’re safe. I’m going to take care of you…” She says gently in a soft, caring tone. The tape changes to Amanda’s living room, where she carefully carries the habitat into the room and places it on the couch. Wooly is already there.

“Whatcha got there Amanda?” he asks. 

“For today’s episode, we’re raising butterflies, remember?” 

“I think we did that in elementary school a long time ago…” Wooly remincises, “It was fun! Until all the butterflies… died for some reason. Hmm…”

“Well there is absolutely no way these ones are dying on my watch!” Amanda announces. She realizes that the episode has started already. “Oh, hi there! Didn’t notice you for a second, sorry. I’m Amanda!” she beams. There is an awkward pause, like Amanda is waiting for something, but Wooly seems to be staring into the distance, deep in thought. “I’m Amanda.” she repeats, but gets no response. “Whatever.” She scoffs and looks around for somewhere to put the habitat. She sees the lamp on the table and a devilish grin forms on her face. 

“Gee, I wish we had a TABLE to put this habitat on!” she says, looking at the screen smugly. Riley taps on the lamp. She grins mischievously, and walks over to the lamp. She shoves it off the table causing it to break and make a super loud crashing sound on the floor.

“Huh?! What are you doing?!” Wooly gasps. “You’re going to scare the caterpillars!” Amanda panics and looks at her caterpillars. 

“Shh… shh… it’s okay little fellas you’re absolutely safe here.” Amanda says softly. Wooly rolls his eyes, then he glances at the screen. He seems surprised, then a little annoyed. 

“Oh… the episode has started already?” 

“Yeah Wooly.” Amanda scoffs. She looks at the screen again and does a double take. Her eyes widen and tears start to form “No… no way… it can’t be…” her voice cracks, “Ka-” 

“Don’t say my name! They’ll hear you!” Kate snaps. Amanda flinches a bit, Riley does too. It is very unlike Kate to speak in such a harsh tone. She seems… scared. 

“You’re alive…” Amanda cries, “I can’t believe you’re alive.” 

“Yeah Amanda… I’m alive…” Kate sighed, sounding completely exhausted. Amanda’s smile fades a bit. 

“Today we’re raising caterpillars into butterflies! These ones are called Monarchs!” Amanda beams, “Oh… but I guess you already know that huh? Heh heh.” She laughs nervously. 

“Say, why don’t you help us!” Wooly suggests.  

“Yeah! See…” Amanda pulls out a diagram, “Butterflies start out as eggs… then they become caterpillars… then they turn into a chrysalis and then into a butterfly!” 

“Ooh! Ooh! What do they turn into after that?” Wooly asks eagerly. Amanda gives him a weird look, as this is a very strange question. 

“They die, Wooly. You know that.” 

“O-Oh… that’s… really sad.” 

“Not really, that’s just the cycle of life isn’t it? Honestly I think they’re kind of lucky, they get to fly south for the winter. I bet they see all kinds of different places.” 

“Mmm… I don’t know… I feel like there could be dangers along the way. I mean, not every butterfly makes it right?” Wooly says. Amanda ignores him.

“We have to help these caterpillars grow into butterflies! Do you remember the cycle I showed you before?” She asks. “I'll start us off, the eggs have already hatched into caterpillars, so what comes next?” A voice prompt shows up on the screen. 

“Shoe.” Riley replied. Amanda giggles a little bit.

“What the?” Wooly mumbles looking completely confused. “That's not right.”

“Yeah I know Wooly.” Amanda grumbles. “Come on, try again.” the voice prompt appears again.

“Grasshopper.” Riley said with a mischievous grin. Amanda looks kind of mad now. 

“Come on, didn't you learn this in grade school?!” Amanda snaps.

“Maybe they failed grade school…” Wooly comments. Wow Wooly, rude. Kate paused the tape.

“Riley what are you doing?!” She hissed.

“Pissing them off on purpose.” Riley shrugged. 

“Why?!”

“Dunno, they reveal more information when you do that I guess.”

“Really…” Kate sounded intrigued. She walked over and unpaused the tv. 

“Alright.” Amanda takes a deep breath, “let's try this again. After the egg hatches into the caterpillar, what happens?” the voice prompt appears once more.

“Frog.” Kate answered. Riley started cracking up. Amanda's jaw drops. 

“Riley! You are SUCH a bad influence!” Wooly groans in frustration. Now everyone is staring at him with surprise. “Wh-whoa… what'd I do?”

“I've never heard Wooly… ever refer to a viewer by name before.” Kate mumbled, tapping her chin with interest. 

“Me neither.” Riley said.

“Wooly… you just called Riley by their name.” Amanda points out. He immediately covers his mouth, looking incredibly freaked out for some reason. “Frog… Grasshopper… SHOE what kind of answers even ARE those?!” Amanda shouts in annoyance, “The answer is-”

“Chrysalis!” Wooly shouts out suddenly. 

“That's right. Chrysalis.” Amanda says, unenthusiastically. The caterpillars crawl up and begin to weave their chrysalises. 

“Ha! Yessss!” Wooly appears quite proud of himself. Amanda rolls her eyes. 

“Alright and out form the chrysalis emerges a…” the voice prompt appears again. 

“Dragonfly!” Riley calls out. This time Amanda is not amused.

“Do you think this is funny?” Amanda says, her right eye twitching a bit. 

“You seemed to think it was before.” Wooly points out.

“It's not funny anymore! It hasn't been for a long time!” she shouts, stamping her foot. Red glitches cover the screen. “I'm so sick of all of this!”

“Amanda, don't say that!” Wooly says worriedly looking at the screen.

“DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!” Amanda screams in his face, Wooly puts his hands up defensively, “I hate this place! I hate you!” Wooly suddenly looks very hurt. The tape glitches red again. Amanda starts to morph into her demon form. Wooly backs away slowly. This time it feels a lot more eerie. Like Amanda is completely in control, she almost seems calm. Too calm. “What are you so afraid of, huh?!” She says calmly, almost too calmly.  

“I- um… I… I…Whoa!” Wooly trips onto his butt and freezes up. “I'm no-not afraid!” he says defensively, Amanda looms over him. “Yo-you don't know anything!” tears start welling up in his eyes. Amanda looks disappointed, she returns back to normal and turns back to the screen with a fake smile on her face. 

“When the caterpillar emerges from the chrysalis what does it become?” She asks with an eerie cheerfulness. The voice prompt appears once more. 

“Butterfly.” Kate said quickly. There is a long pause before Amanda says anything. She just stares at them for a long time with a creepy smile. 

“Amanda?” Wooly mumbles.

“That's right!” She beams, “A butterfly!” The tape glitches and they hear the brief sound of Amanda screaming but it's glitched out. She returns to a smiling state once again. Wooly looks seriously disturbed. 

“Amanda, are you feeling okay?”

“Never--- better Wooly, why?” Amanda smiles. Wooly looks unconvinced. The tape glitches again, Wooly looks startled.

“That's right!” Amanda beams, “A butterfly!” Just then, the butterflies all came out of their chrysalises. “Look! Our butterflies are all grown up now!” 

“Oooooh… they're so pretty.” Wooly grins, he leans on the couch's arm, watching them happily. Amanda sits on the floor and watches them as well.

“Now that they're all grown up, we get to do my favorite part!” Amanda says excitedly. 

“Hm? And what's that?” Wooly asks, also getting a little excited. Amanda picks up the habitat. The tape glitches and suddenly they are in the backyard. Now Wooly looks nervous. “So… what are we doing Amanda?” 

“Letting them go!” Amanda cheers. 

“What?! NO!!!” Wooly shouts, the tape glitches. He snatches the habitat from her and hugs it protectively. “These are our friends! We didn't even get to have them that long!” 

“But they deserve to be free!” Amanda argues. Wooly looks like he's about to argue back but then the tape glitches. He looks down at the habitat sadly. The sparkle in his eyes goes dim. 

“I… guess you're right…” he sighs, handing the habitat gently to Amanda, who looks at him with confusion and a bit of concern. Just then, the opossum shows up. 

“Oh um, hi there opossum!” Amanda says awkwardly. “Look at these butterflies we raised, pretty right?” The opossum runs up to her and starts trying to grab at the habitat. “Wha? No! You can't have this!” She snaps, pulling it away from him. He snatches it from her. 

“He's gonna hurt the butterflies! Do something!” Wooly shouts.

“What do we do?” Kate asked. Riley taps their finger on the VCR screen. The opossum clearly notices them, he stops for a moment, then glares at Riley directly in the eye and drops the habitat on the ground.

“No!” Amanda and Wooly shout. They wait a moment, the opossum does nothing.

“Wait… they look… fine…” Amanda says, sounding relieved. 

“Now we just need to carefully take them back inside where they’re safe…” Wooly whispers. The opossum glares at them and opens the door to the habitat. All the butterflies fly out of it.  

“No! No! NO! Come back!” Wooly cries out, trying to reach for them, but Amanda watches in awe.

“Isn't it beautiful?” Amanda smiles. 

“Beautiful?!” Wooly says angrily, “th-they’re gone! We lost them!”

“Wooly… they can’t stay with us forever…” Amanda says gently. Wooly looks at her sadly. 

“I know…” Wooly sighs sadly, flopping down onto the grass, “But I'm going to miss them.”

“Me too…”

“But you wanted to let them go!” 

“I wanted to set them free.” Amanda explains, “Look at them, they’re right where they belong. Aren’t you happy for them?” 

“They would've been safer with us…” Wooly grumbles. 

“But now they’re happy… now they’re free.” Amanda says longingly, “I wish I was a butterfly.” 

“Why’s that?” Wooly asks. 

“So I can fly far far away.” Amanda stretches her arms out, feeling the sunshine and the breeze. Her eyes seem to sparkle. She lays down in the grass and watches the butterflies fly around above her. 

“Butterflies don’t live that long, you know.” Wooly pouts. Amanda rolls her eyes. 

“Better a short and happy life than a long and miserable one.” She grumbles.

“You think so?”

“Yeah…” Amanda sighs, sounding a bit more at peace. Wooly stares at her for a bit, looking like he wants to say something. Then he looks away and stands up. 

“There are other kinds of butterflies right? Don't you have any books on them?” Wooly asks. 

“Mmm yeah I think so.” Amanda replies nonchalantly, without even glancing up at him. 

“Don't moths also come from caterpillars?”

“Sure they do… why?” Amanda answers, looking suspicious of Wooly. 

“Just curious… I kinda forgot… it's uh… been awhile…” Wooly laughs sadly. Amanda looks sad for a moment then shakes it off.

“AN-Y-WAY!” She shouts jumping up off the lawn, “That's how caterpillars become butterflies!” The credit music begins to play. “WAIT- WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT!!!!” Amanda calls out frantically. “Before you go I- I need to ask you something. K-" she freezes, remembering Kate's words from before. “Fr-friend…” she says awkwardly, “Are you bored of me?” The voice prompt appears. 

“NO!! NEVER!” Kate shouted. Amanda's eyes widen. 

“But… you left… and you started making other people watch the tapes for you… I mean don't get me wrong I like them both but… I missed you…” Amanda whimpers. “I missed talking to you… and I finally remembered who you were but you disappeared and I had so much I wanted to talk to you about…”  Amanda cries softly. The voice prompt hasn’t disappeared yet. 

“Well… we can talk now.” Kate says softly. 

“Okay… um… Di-did you get the cookies? Did you like them?” 

“Cookies? What cookies?” Kate asks Riley, sounding extremely confused.

“We… got you some cookies… and sent them to you.”

“Oh… I'm sorry I never got any cookies… but I wasn't home so I wouldn't know.” 

“I see…” Amanda says sadly. 

“Um… well it's good to see you're back and okay!” Wooly says nervously. Amanda looks surprised at this.

“You didn't like K- her…” Amanda points out. 

“Well unlike a certain someone I know I don't wish the people I don't like would DIE.”

“Well maybe you should, Wooly.” Amanda mumbles. “Maybe we should want them dead…” wait… she's not talking about us. Who is she referring to? Probably the people at Hameln, right? Riley theorised.

“Look if this is about Hameln I'm sure they had a good reason-”

“Good reason?! Are you out of your MIND?!” Amanda snaps. Wooly falls silent. “You don't really still believe that nonsense do you?!”

“I don't know…” Wooly pouts. Amanda shakes her head with an annoyed expression.

“I’m not completely sure what's going on but… don't be a stranger… okay Kate?” Amanda smiles sadly. The tape ended and fell out of the machine. Kate slowly begins to break down in tears. 

“I'm sorry Rebecca… I'm sorry… I can't save you… I know I can't save you…” Kate sobbed.

“What do you mean, save?” Riley questions.

“I mean… getting her out… bringing her back…” 

“I don't think we can do that… but… I think we can set her free… her and all the kids…” Riley explained. “I mean… she will never be able to return to how she was… but I think she would rather be free than trapped in these tapes like this…”

“I can't do it… I can't let her go… I promised Sam… I promised…” 

“Sam would want her to be at peace too…” Riley sighed.

“I know… I know…” 

“So will you help me? Can we stop Hameln? Together?”

“You don't know what you're up against!” Kate argued. 

“Maybe…” Riley mumbled, “But I want to try!” Just then there is a knock on the door.

“Kate… it's me.” an unfamiliar voice says. Kate immediately stands up and opens the door. 

“Wait here, I'll introduce you… in a bit. You can handle the puzzle till then right?” She asked. Riley looked behind them. A children's butterfly puzzle is now on the table. They looked back at Kate and nodded. Kate nodded back and left. Riley heard some muffled conversation on the other side of the door. They looked at the puzzle. The pieces are gone. They looked around the room and found a piece with butterfly eggs on it. They placed it into the puzzle. Maybe I need to rewatch the tape to solve this one. Riley thought.

“You did WHAT?! Have you LOST your MIND?!” Kate shouted. What's going on? They wondered. Well hopefully she'll fill me in later. They take the tape and put it back into the VCR. 

The episode begins with Amanda and Wooly sitting on the couch watching some caterpillars in a butterfly habitat. She notices us.

“Oh hi again! I'm Amanda!” She beams. She waits again for Wooly, who is still watching the caterpillars, kicking his feet in the air happily. “He's in his own little world, huh?” Amanda grumbles. She elbows him sharply in the arm. 

“Ow! What is it?!” Wooly snaps, sounding really annoyed then he notices us..”Oh… um… and I'm Wooly!”

“So she isn't here this time?” Amanda questions. The voice prompt appears.

“She's talking to someone outside.”

“Oh, probably our other friend!” Amanda smiles. “Today we're raising caterpillars!” 

“Say, why don’t you help us?” Wooly points out. Amanda pulls out the diagram, she looks at it for a bit with disinterest. “Amanda?” 

“You remember the life cycle right?” she asks. The voice prompt appears.

“Yeah.” Riley replied. 

“And you’re not going to mess with us again right?” 

“Maybe.” Riley shrugged. Amanda and Wooly look annoyed. “Okay fine, I won’t.” Gotta speedrun this anyway.

“I’ll start us off… the eggs have already turned into caterpillars, so what comes next?”

“Chrysalis.”

“Correct!” Amanda grins, snapping her fingers. The caterpillars crawl up and start to form their chrysalises. Riley paused the tape and looked around for the chrysalis piece. Once they found it, they put it in the puzzle. They turn back to the TV and find the chrysalises fully-formed much faster than before. They walked back to the TV and hit play. 

“Whoooaaa…” Wooly marvels.  

“When the caterpillar emerges from the chrysalis what does it become?” 

“Butterfly.” Riley answers. 

“That’s right! A butterfly!” she grins. Just then, the butterflies come out of their chrysalises. Riley paused the tape and looked for the butterfly puzzle piece and added it to the puzzle. When they returned to the tv the butterflies had already emerged. 

“Look! Our butterflies are all grown up now!” Amanda beams. Wooly looks around awkwardly, like he wants to say something. Amanda sits on the couch watching the butterflies happily. “You’re right Wooly, they are really pretty.” Wooly doesn’t come and watch them this time. He looks uncomfortable and unsure, like there’s something on his mind. “You’re not going to watch them?”

“WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!” Wooly shouts, then he panics a bit like he didn’t mean to say that.

“What are you talking about?” Amanda says, confused and kind of offended. 

“YOU! You were acting… strange earlier!” 

“Earlier? What do you mean earlier?” Amanda asks mockingly. Wooly scowls at her. 

“Nevermind.” he sighs, “it’s nothing.” Amanda shrugs. 

“Are you ready for my favorite part?” Amanda grins. 

“How did you do that?” 

“Do what?!” Amanda snaps. 

“La-last time they watched the tape! You turned into your demon form and nothing bad happened!” 

“Yeah so?” 

“What do you mean yeah, so?!” Wooly shouts. “No no… that’s not what I meant to ask atl all… ugh forget it!” 

“Really? Because it seems like you have something to say…”

“I uh… um… hmm….” Wooly thinks really hard for a couple seconds, “uuuuh ugh… no… I… mmm… You-” his voice gets really quiet… he sounds almost… small all of the sudden, “You don’t really hate me do you?” 

“What was that?” Amanda asks, looking confused. She didn’t hear him.

“Nothing. I forgot.” 

“Okay then… So can we let the butterflies go now?” “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.” he groans. The tape fast-forwards on its own and ends. That was weird. Riley thought. They turn around and the next tape is behind them.

Authors Note: Experimenting with some new fic stuff to make it feel more like the games! Also did a lot more research this time to keep everything in character. Obviously though, this is a direct continuation of the second game... and I don't know what will happen then. So some stuff is kind of just made up on the fly. I have no idea if Amanda is actually able to control her demon form or not, but I thought it was a cool idea so I tried it.

Constructive criticism is totally welcome btw, if I didn't say so before! I'm writing fics to improve my writing skills, so seriously, any feedback is welcome (as long as it's not like... straight up rude. If you say "this sucks" with no elaboration that's not constructive criticism).

[melkyt]

3D2Y Where Law wants nothing more then to stay with Luffy but knows he has no reason too, until he is given one.

Luffy trains every day, he is determined to get stronger, to protect his friends no matter what. Taking out the pain of Ace's death on something he can control.

Law sees his determination and feels as though he is wasting time by just sitting there. He needs to do something. He needs to leave. Only Luffy's presence that he has gotten so accustomed to is making him hesitate. He has not been this comfortable with anyone outside his crew in a long time. The warmth of an enthusiastic hug. The feeling of Luffy's curls brushing over his cheeks as he towers over Law from behind, calloused hand resting on his shoulders.

Luffy taking the time in the few minutes Rayleigh gives him a break to always track down Law and check on him, even if his training is on the other side of the island. This only makes it harder to leave.

Law sighs as he watches Luffy leave for the next round. It's almost lunchtime, if Luffy doesn't fail in today's exercise, he will drag Law to have some food. It will only make Law come up with more reasons to stay another day. He gets up before he starts thinking about those reasons. "Time to go, kikoku"

It seems to vibrate as it senses that they will be back to drawing blood soon. The pain that comes with her curse thrums under his skin, a familiar dull ache that reminds him of his goals. That pain always helps remind him that he is still alive and has to keep going.

"Leaving now is foolish, Trafalgar Law."

Shakky, the previous queen of Amazon Lily. The one who made their safety and Luffy's training possible taps her cigarette, sending ashes dropping down into the sand.

"I have wasted enough time here," he rests Kikoku on his back. "I have a goal that can't wait."

"Strawhat will leave you behind"

Law tenses. He knows that she means in terms of power. That once this training is done, he will be a force most can't defeat. Law never cared about that. What made him tense is that Luffy would leave him behind as a person, that he would never feel his warm touch ever again.

Shakky smirks, immediately more interested in his reactions, glancing over at her husband instructing the boy. She remembers when Rayleigh first came to train on Amazon Lily's adjacent islands as a young man. She looked at him much the same way as Law is looking at Luffy now. "Do you have a plan?" Shakky takes a puff of her thin pipe. "How much do you know about the web of Doflamingo's influence?"

Law bites his bottom lip. He never told anyone his goal. Her information network could rival Doffy's. With the family's love for codenames. Law avoided anyone discovering his past. Yet here she is, knowing seemingly everything with that confident look in her eyes that hints at decades of experience beyond what Law can even fathom.

"Stay, train with the boy." Shakky nods towards Luffy, who is sprawled out on the ground, trying to catch his breath before the next attack that will come too soon. "It will only help you"

Law can't deny she is right. Training with the generation that once achieved everything they strived for will only make them stronger, but Law is a doctor first. That is how his power works. The skills that Rayleigh can teach him are not what he needs.

Shakky senses his hesitation. "The Kuja have a history of medicine, poison, and poultice that can kill or paralyze a man." She can see that is enough to catch his attention. "Thousands of texts in the studies of blood and the mortal body." She takes a step closer, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "They do not allow men, but I could make an exception for you, kid."

Law takes a deep breath. This is access to texts he has never read. It could even have info on his fruit. The discoveries he could make would easily upgrade his power. If he refuses, he will not get another chance. Yet it also means he is wasting two years of his life, the time he could be using to go after Doflamingo. His thirst for knowledge wins out as it does every time. "Fine, I'll stay" he sighs, hoping that he will not regret those words.

"Really?!" Luffy jumps up from his sprawled position. "Traffy, that's great --- ow!"

"Great use of observation haki," Rayleigh chuckles, tapping the stick on his shoulders. "Next time, use it on not getting hit"

"Didn't have to hit me that hard," Luffy rubs at the sore spot. He turns back towards Law with a wide grin. "Let's train really hard together, Traffy! Shishishi"

Law feels a blush on his cheeks. He can't deny that a large part of him is staying for Luffy and the hope of seeing that smile every day for the next two years

-end-

Aka how Law goes from a skinny little gremlin that has never had a good meal ever to getting enough to bulk from just being near Luffy who shares everything he hunts with Law while he has his nose in a book 24/7 and slowly they fall in love with each other in new domestic ways.

Shakky and Rayleigh gossip about the young love that is blooming before their eyes as they train their respective boi xd

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

I Did It!!!!

Thank you so much to everyone who sent me prompts to help me reach my 2024 writing goal. As of about five minutes ago, I completed it!!! I wrote an average of 500 words every day for 366 days, and you guys were SO great and helpful in me getting there. To celebrate, my final writing of the year is 5 snippets about some of our favorite blorbos celebrating New Year's Eve together. I asked five friends to pick the pairings, so I'll tag them next to their snippet. If you're still waiting on a prompt to be filled, I do plan to get to them in the New Year, but probably with way less haste. You guys are awesome, thank you so much for reading my work!

Julie & Flynn: for @joyandthephantoms

“Okay!” Julie says decisively, settling herself up against the headboard of her bed with her notebook poised in her lap. “Who wants to go first?”

Flynn, lying on her stomach down the bed from her, feet kicked in the air as she taps her pen against her own notepad, says, “You, cause I’m still working through some of mine.”

“Well, hurry up cause it’s almost midnight.” Julie holds her notebook up like a hymn book and begins to read. “First of all, my word for the year is!” Pause for dramatic effect. “Ease.”

“Ooh, love it. Very Eat, Pray, Love. Go on.”

Damien & Mark: for @starchemist

“So, uh,” Damien says, voice low and gruff in the dark of the hotel room. They’re lying tucked up against each other, Mark’s back to Damien’s chest, Damien’s arm wrapped around him. The Ball Drop, still about forty minutes away, is playing softly on the TV, but they’ve been much more focused on each other than Times Square.

“Yeah?” Mark says when he doesn’t go on, barely a whisper.

“New year usually means, like. New you, and all that bullshit. Resolutions. Airing your grievances and whatever.”

Mark turns his head to look at him. “I’m not telling anyone about us.”

“Oh, thank God.”

Willie & Alex: for @skeletaltoad

Their friends started counting down about a minute and a half ago, because Reggie gave a whole speech on December 23rd about how “it’s really not fair that the last ten seconds of the year are the only ones that get recognized, when really we’ve been counting down since midnight on last New Year’s Eve” etc etc and wouldn’t shut up until they agreed to start the vocal countdown at 90.

Willie and Alex haven’t been counting with them. They’ve been sitting on the floor of the Molinas’ living room, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes, preparing themselves for their first New Year’s Kiss.

Nick & Carrie: for @queenofthequillandink

At 10:00, her dad goes to bed, so Carrie sets Nick up on the couch in the den with about fourteen blankets and The Holiday on streaming.

At 11:00, she paints his nails a festive shade of pink and orders a large pizza with everything for them to share.

At 11:30, they make twin hot fudge sundaes with about a million toppings each. 

At 11:45, Carrie puts the Ball Drop on and makes fun of Ryan Seacrest, as per tradition.

At midnight, they ring in the new year. A year of healing, of friendship, of peace. Still by each other’s sides.

Caleb & Adam: for @staystrange

“How’s the party?” Adam says on the screen, a red solo cup in his hand.

“Loud,” Caleb says, rubbing absently at his chest, and they both know he doesn’t just mean the volume. “I wish you were here.”

“I know, me too. We’ll ring in next year together.” Adam glances over his shoulder, and Caleb can hear someone (probably Caitlin) shouting from the next room. “I’m being summoned for the count down.”

“You’ll come back to kiss me, won’t you?”

Adam smiles at him— the tiniest smile ever, which means it’s the most real. “Of course I will. Happy New Year, babe.”

“Happy New Year.”

--

Taglist:

@pandoradeloeste

@genericgirl420

@sizzlingjudgebanditpaper

@ziggy-st4dust

@flibbertigibbety-jibber-jabber

@friendlyfishboy

@bakugouuuwu

@alexacat57

@jaytheunique

@mercale

@teammightypen

@wr0temyway0ut

@phantomwriter95

@littlepetbee

@secondhand-sunlight

@ddaxnggirl

@trustworthytoast

@interestinglittlerelationship

@fangirl17-07

@manualamadrugada

@easybugboy

@moonlit-asthers

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 1)

Haymitch x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue

“Well,” Haymitch grunts, rising from his seat in the bar car, “that’ll do it.”

Y/N knows the drill. Busying herself with the game plan, preparing the devices for her tributes. Loaded with resources to aid in their training.

Haymitch leans down, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head before stumbling away toward their train car.

He won’t even see them, not until it’s absolutely necessary. Haymitch has no desire to make small talk; he doesn’t want to know them. Just makes it harder in the end.

His wife, on the other hand, is either a saint or criminally insane by Haymitch’s account. She insists on knowing them, allowing each to take a little piece of her off into the arena to die.

He used to spite her for it, for her inability to simply stop running herself into the ground trying to save kids who are already dead. He doesn’t anymore. That’s who she is and he learned to love her for it. Still, Haymitch doesn’t want to watch. He was always better at picking up pieces than keeping things in place.

“Y/N Abernathy!” A shrill voice scolds when the set of doors behind the youngest victor open without warning.

“Effie Trinket.” Y/N waves a hand in her direction.

“What are you doing? Where is Haymitch? The two of you are meant to be-”

“Look, you’re new at this. I get it, everything is exciting. Can’t wait to make these kids arena ready in just a few days.” Y/N grumbles, never looking up from her tablet. “But it doesn’t work like that. We’re stuck on this fucking train until tomorrow morning with no weapons to train them and no cameras to wave at. There’s no rush.”

“Language!” Effie gasps at her choice of words, coming to stand in front of Y/N with both hands on her hips. “The tributes are waiting.”

“How many people have you killed?” Y/N asks, turning her eyes up at Effie.

The woman simply balks at her, speechless.

“Have you ever held your intestines in your hands? Or fought your way to the top of an hourglass that was slowly filling with sand?”

Effie narrows her eyes into slits. She’d been warned that Haymitch might be hard to manage, but no one said a thing about her.

“It’s ok, not many people can say yes.”

Ms. Trinket stomps her foot like a petulant child.

“I don’t tell you how to do your job, stop telling me how to do mine.”

————————————————————————

When Y/N is good and ready she makes her way to the dining car, Katniss and Peeta are sat patiently there. The boy’s fingers picking anxiously at the satin blue arm rest of his chair. Y/N takes a deep breath. Here we go again.

The pair of tributes snap their heads in her direction, waiting expectantly.

I can’t save you. Only you can do that.

“I’m Y/N. Good to meet you. Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark.” The woman says, more cool and calculated than Katniss expected. She has a digital pad in hand, jotting down notes with her stylus. Giving one to each of them in turn.

“Oh, uh- thank you.” Peeta accepts his gratefully.

“Beginning at the main screen, let me know if you have any questions, there are diagrams of strategies for attack and defense-”

“Where’s Haymitch?” Katniss asks, tapping at her screen with inexperienced fingers.

“He may join us later if it suits him.”

Katniss visibly recoils. This is not the woman the Capitol shoves down their throats on television. Sweet and demure in nature, with a smile to sugar coat even the darkest of thoughts.

“Contingent upon your strengths and weaknesses, this is a playbook of every effective strategy that I’ve seen, heard of, or performed. With different arenas come different challenges, so you’ll need to do some adjusting to meet your specific goals.

If you are skilled in hand to hand combat, I suggest numbers eight through eleven. If you’re skilled in a long range combat, numbers one through five. If you’re skilled in both, I suggest a combination, otherwise known as numbers six and seven. If you’re skilled in neither, I suggest you do the best you can to prepare yourself. Number twelve is for my non fighters, my hiders, climbers and camouflagers. People tend to overlook that strategy all together, but not me. It buys time, if you’re lucky, it buys enough to wait out the masses.”

Peeta nods, hanging on her every word.

“Which one did you use?” Katniss wonders, trying to digest the harsh angles of the first diagram.

“Seven.”

Six and seven are combination. “I thought you won with a knife?” Katniss was only two at the time, but there is no shortage of recap. From the people who love Y/N and the ones who believe that the Capitol ate her soul.

“I took the last career out hand to hand, my partner covered the distance.” Y/N explains. “Axe to district one’s back, gave me a fighting chance. Allies are invaluable weapons if you pick the right ones.”

————————————————————————

Climbing into bed that night Y/N feels Haymitch stir, tossing a lazy arm around her as he nuzzles against her back.

“Well? What’d you think?” He asks, reeking of whiskey. “They gonna last a couple minutes? Hours?”

Y/N feels her jaw tick. “We owe these kids the same care and preparation as we gave the rest.”

“As you gave the rest.” Haymitch says pointedly. “I’m a shit mentor, you told me that.”

“You did this for a long time by yourself and I,” she breaks off, tapping anxiously at his fingers. “I commend you for that. But I can’t do it alone. I’ve tried, it doesn’t work.”

“That is not on you.” Haymitch says, under his breath. “The kids have been too young, too weak-”

She sighs, “if we don’t try, that is on us. Haymitch, what if they were our kids?”

“If we aren’t careful, it will be our kids.”

“Even if we play our parts; ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ like a couple of good little show animals, they could get reaped anyway.”

“We made them the most beloved children in Panem. Nobody will be lining up to watch them fight to the death.” Haymitch tries to brush it off. He can’t even think about shit like that. From the moment they were conceived, the odds were put in their favor.

“There’s never been a child born of two victors, people are curious.” Y/N feels him tense.

“Someone told you that?”

She nods, “Finnick’s heard it a couple times now.”

“Heard it where?” Haymitch demands.

Y/N lowers her voice, “Haymitch, you know where.”

From his patrons, the ones Snow forces on him. They pay with secrets.

Part 2

[lucarionite9364]

Johnny Cage x reader x Kenshi

CW: NSFW (18+ content)

This is my first fic so it may be bad😅

Word count: 2283

PART 1

Your morning has gone as usual; wake up early, get dressed, and prepare for training. You had been eating by yourself on the training grounds waiting for the others to show up when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You look up to see Kenshi silently asking if he can sit next to you. You nod happily as you munch on your breakfast. You’re chatting idly for a little bit until he gives you a challenge. “I bet you can’t beat me in training today.” He smiles at your offended expression. You swallow your last bite before you spit back reasons why you could.

After faux insults were thrown, you took it as a personal goal to take Kenshi down a notch. You wrestled him down to the ground and tried to pin him, but he was quick to roll around from underneath you. He was too quick for you to grapple, but you weren’t fast enough to dodge him. He grabs your upper arm and pins it behind your back. He almost had your other hand if you hadn’t shifted your weight to pull your arm from his grasp. You grabbed his wrist and flipped him over upside down and onto his back. You then slid down to put him in a head-leg lock. You squeezed your legs tight together to get him to give up. What you didn't know, however, is that Kenshi was horribly turned on and had a hard on.

He tried to get out of your grasp but to no avail. He tapped you on the thigh, signaling that you won, and you let go immediately. Sucking in a deep breath, he sat up and composed himself. You had already gotten up and extended your hand to help him up. You turn your attention to the other three trainees and the man beside you takes this moment to adjust himself.

Johnny comes up to you first and throws fake punches at you while laughing. “Are you ready for training today?” “Of course!” He gives a cheesy smile as you turn your attention to the two other guys beside you. You hold up two fists and they respond by giving you a fist bump back. “Ready to get your asses whooped today? I’m not going easy,” you stated confidently, “Kenshi here said I couldn’t beat him, so I’ll beat everyone else and still come out on top!” Lao chimes in first, “No way you can beat me Y/N.” “We shall have to see about that.” You retort. Raiden responds to the challenge as well, “I would be more than glad to spar with you today Y/N.” “Glad to hear you won’t be upset to lose!”

As you all playfully smack talk each other, you all get ready for a long day of training ahead of you. At one point, you start your battle tier and your first opponent is Johnny. Smug as ever, he talks your ear off. Unfortunately for him, you easily best him and tease him as you leave him in the dust. Lao and Raiden were more of a challenge. Lao with his chakram hat and Raiden simply had more years of combat experience. After valiant efforts, they admit defeat (some more easily than others.) You look at Kenshi with a big smile on your face. “Think you can still beat me, Pretty Boy?” You knew that your words would get under his skin, and the look on his face was evidence enough that you were right. He brushed off your comment and said, “Let's see what you can do.”

You had been sparring with Kenshi for close to an hour now. He has been on the offense as you throw punches and kicks at him fast, he can just manage to keep up. You eventually wear him down enough you fake him out, sweep his legs, then pin him down. He is able to shove you off due to body weight differences. Both of you get up and he tries to throw quick punches at you, one lands and it throws you off your balance. You tumble backward and he tries to land his ‘Question Mark’ kick when you catch his ankle and shot put him away.

Chants of laughter and awe can be heard from your posse of three other men, that being Johnny, Kung Lao, and Raiden. “$20 says Kenshi wipes the floor with her.” The cockier man claims. “No way, I think Y/N has got this one no doubt.” The darker haired boys shoot back. Their bickering was cut short by the sound of Y/N getting tossed to the ground.

Rolling on the ground, you try to catch your breath. This fight had been going on longer than you anticipated and it was wearing you out. “Is that all you got Takahashi? Or was earlier all you could take, hmm?” you tease. He rushes forward and fakes out to the side before you could react or block, he lands a hard blow to your side. He never hit this hard in training before, you wonder what has got him so worked up. However, before you could linger on that thought he goes in for another blow to your hurt side, but you block his advance and land a punch square to his jaw. This takes him aback and makes his eyes water a bit. Having had enough of this argument, he advances and throws you off balance, dropping to the ground to pin your arm through his legs and cuts off your air with his calf.

You struggle for what seems like forever. WIth the way he has your arm positioned, you could almost feel something poking at your forearm. However, you didn't have much time to think about what that was before he pulled your arm tighter causing you to cry out in pain. Just as he did earlier, you tap his thigh to signal that you lost. He immediately lets go and gets up, storming off to his room and bumping Johnny’s shoulder rather hard as he went. The two shaolin stare at Kenshi in disbelief that he brushed the fight off so easily and without a word. You, too, were confused at his grumpy attitude. What also confused you was that Johnny had a shit eating grin on his face. Slumping his arms around Raiden and Kung Lao, he nonchalantly says, “So, you two owe me $20 hah.” Groaning in annoyance, they begrudgingly pay up.

“Wow,, were you guys seriously betting on who would win that fight?” You stare in fake disbelief. Johnny quickly chimes in before the others can speak “Whaaat? A little friendly betting is all in good fun.” He shoots you a signature smirk and you roll your eyes. Changing the conversation topic you ask, “Hey, is Kenshi okay? He seemed out of it.” Johnny glances at you playfully and shrugs, then says, “I’m sure it’s nothing, I’ll go check on him.” WIth that, he leaves you, Raiden, and Lao to train more before the day is over. After a quick spar with Raiden and Lao, you decide that you need to make sure Kenshi is ok yourself. So you bid the boys adieu head to the man in question’s room.

As you come up onto his door, you can hear muffled sounds. Curiosity getting the better of you, you lean into the door to listen. You can hear Johnny and Kenshi slightly arguing about how he acted earlier, so you listen more to their conversation. At one point the door peeks open, so you can see them too.

“Ken, it was obvious you were distracted. I’m guessing it has to do with Y/N?” He asks with a knowing tone in his voice. “What? Cage, I have no clue what you’re talking about. And what I think about is none of your business.” He snaps back. “Come on, don’t lie to me,” he grins, “you popped one when she tried to pin you, don’t think I couldn’t see that.” The dark haired man quickly looked away when a deep flush on his face, “Was it. . . that obvious?” “Dude, it was obvious.” He deadpans. “She is attractive, I will say that. Hell, I may have gotten heated too if I was in that position. I saw you too earlier, she had her thighs locked around your head right? Damn that was sexy.” “Knock it off, Cage.” He says with an exasperated sigh. Cage moves over to straddle Kenshi, harshly grinding down on the man, making him groan out. “You know Ken Doll, we can always ask to share~.” “I, ugh, Johnny. We can’t, hgnn.” You gasp out in shock at the revelation. They shoot their heads toward the door only to see you running away from embarrassment. “Nice going Cage!” Kenshi says, the exasperation in his voice evident. “What? Come on, let's go talk to her.” With that, they run off after you.

You slam the door behind you as you catch your breath. Holy Fuck! Did they see me? Oh god they saw me, how do I explain why I was listening? And how do I explain what I just saw? Are Johnny and Kenshi… — Your thoughts were cut off as you heard soft knocking at your door. “Hey! Y/N, we need to talk to you real fast. Can you let us in?” You heard it in a loud voice. OH FUCK IT’S JOHNNY! SHIT! What should I do? You breathe slowly to help yourself calm down. Hesitantly, you walk to the door and open it to see Johnny and Kenshi standing there, both somewhat out of breath and looking slightly flushed. The actor starts before you can speak, “Yo Y/N, uhm, what you just saw… I—“ “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation like that. I just wanted to see if you were ok,” you nod toward Kenshi, “You seemed off during our spar and I was worried. You guys can come in if you’d like. I can make tea.” You turn on your heel with haste to start making tea (Also to avoid eye contact with the men behind you.)

Kenshi speaks up to rid the room of the awkward silence, “Y/N, I’m sorry if I worried you during our match today. There’s a lot on my mind.” “I know—“ You said before you could catch yourself. You want to crawl into a hole and perish. “Ah, so you did hear most of that conversation.” You turn towards them with the tea pot and cups in your hands. “Like I said, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to pry into your conversation, but I…” you trail off due to lack of words in your mind. “You what?” They both inquire. “I heard what you both said about me.” You state simply as you pour your tea and sip on it idly. They look at each other with a loss for words. Johnny moves to sit down across from you and Kenshi, after a few moments, does the same. You pour them a cup and sit in comfortable silence, but only for a moment.

”So, you both like me?” You smile gently at them, causing them to blush harder than either would like to admit. “I’ll agree to that statement.” Johnny says, trying to get some of his swagger back. Meanwhile, Kenshi can only elbow Johnny in the side, but nods in agreement. Feeling bold in the moment you can’t help but chuckle a little. “What’s so funny?” Johnny asks with a sly grin on his face. “Nothing, just that this information makes this all the more easy.” Before the boys can react, you lean over the table and pull Kenshi in for a quick, but heated, kiss. You pull away already breathless and heart racing. You hear Johnny give a prolonged wolf whistle and you go for him next.

He, however, is ready for it and pulls your face deeper into his. You moan slightly as he bites your bottom lip. Pushing the cups aside so as to not knock them over, you continue to lean into Johnny. He paws at your chest and gently squeezes you through your training shirts. After a few minutes of sloppily kissing the narcissist you release his mouth and pant heavily. It felt as though the room suddenly got 100 degrees hotter. Looking over to the swordsman, you noticed he’s harder than a rock. This gives you a lusty grin on your face as you move to straddle him as the other man did earlier.

”Kenshi, would you like for me to help you with your little problem here~?” He looks lost in your eyes as you pull him closer. You lean to the side to breathe into his ear. He then bucks his hips up and groans out. Hands roaming across your hips, ass, and torso, never in one place for too long. You grind down on his thick bulge as he goes to suck on your neck. You’re so engrossed at what is happening, you fail to hear Johnny sneaking up behind you until you feel large hands grabbing your breasts.

”I need a little attention too.” He coos. You chuckle at his words and reach your hand behind you to fondle at his clothed crotch. You break the kiss with Kenshi and he looks dazed as he’s painfully hard beneath you. You snake your hands up to both their faces and gently caress them. Their undivided attention is on nothing but you. Only then do you speak, and that little phrase gets them breathless: “Want to take this to my room?”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 11 - Football

@jegulus-microfic April 11, Word count 684

High school had always been hard for Regulus. He’d followed his brother up through school. He was always Sirius’s brother. He was just as intelligent as Sirius. He liked to think he was smarter, but he lacked Sirius’s easiness and charisma. He was quiet, kept to himself, and just wasn’t very good with people. 

It had been in his yearly report for the last few years, and finally, his parents had snapped. He was to try out for a sport, any sport, and he was to attempt civility because if it came back again that he had failed at socialising, there would be consequences. 

Every sport was full. The chess team had plenty of places, but his parents refused to accept that as a valid option. 

They reminded him that his brother was not only on the Rugby team but also on the tennis team, swim team, hockey team and, for some unknown reason, the baking team. Though Regulus would admit, Sirius’s Victoria sponge was delightful. 

The only team with any spaces was the football team. So he went along to the next practice. 

He’d forgotten that James Potter was on the team. The broad, golden-skinned, dark-haired bimbo lumbered over to him. 

“Hey, Reggie,” He grinned at Regulus’s snarling face. “You trying out, are you?” He asked as he ruffled Regulus’s hair with his oversized hand. Regulus had to clamp his jaws shut as he was sorely tempted to bite James’s hand for daring to touch him, but his parents would definitely be angered by that, so he ground his teeth. 

“Right, newbies over here. Potter in goal. Whoever gets the ball past Potter is on the team. If more than one of you does, which I highly doubt, there will be a sudden death round where you will score goals until one of you misses and so on and so forth until there is only one left.” The spiky-haired P.E. teacher barked at them with her authoritative voice. 

Regulus lined up behind the other hopefuls and waited his turn. He was nervous. If he buggered this up, Potter was bound to tell his brother. 

He watched as player after player ran towards James, dribbling the ball and kicking it straight into his waiting hands. 

Finally, it was Regulus’s turn. He felt sweaty already, and he hadn’t even moved. “On my whistle, Black,” Madam Hooch ordered. She blew the whistle, and he was off. 

Regulus was quick. He’d always been quick. He zipped across the pitch, the ball tapping off the inside of his boot, keeping just ahead of him. James was waiting for him in goal, bouncing gently as he tried to anticipate where Regulus was going to shoot. 

Regulus was within striking distance now. He lined himself up and booted the ball with all his might. The world slowed down. The ball flew through the air in slow motion. He chewed his bottom lip as the ball headed towards the goal. He held his breath as Potters's hands outstretched, and the ball soared past them and hit the back of the net.

James spun his head to look at the ball in disbelief. “Well done, Mr Black, you’re on the team.” Madam Hooch congratulated him. “Potter, get him up to speed. Right, everyone else dismissed.” She blew her whistle again and herded the unlucky candidates back to the changing rooms. 

James jogged over to him with the football in his gloved hands. He grabbed Regulus up in his arms and spun him around before depositing him to where he’d been stood. 

“That was amazing, Reggie. I had no chance at catching that.” Regulus felt his cheeks reddening, and it wasn’t from his exertions. 

James yanked the velcro of his gloves open with his teeth and threw his gloves onto the ground. “Come on, then.” He grinned, tossing the football to the ground and chasing after it. “Let’s have a bit of fun.” And Regulus, try as he might, couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face as he raced after James and immediately stole the ball from the laughing goalie. 

[d0llmakerd0mme]

Doll Dreamworld Brainwashing Starter Smut

Prompts: brainmelt image, dollification, brainwashing, drugging, and ur doll dreamworld fantasy world thing with the extended cnc brainwashed dolls - bonus points for gender neutral doll candidate pre-dollification

CW: CNC, genderbending, brainwashing, painplay, ageplay, sexual drug use (unspecified aphrodisiac,) descriptions of various living dolls engaging in filthy scenarios

“I just want my fucking brain to melt,” you tell the Doll Dreamworld receptionist, a tinge of desperation slipping into your tone.

She taps her stylus and pops her gum, unfazed. “I still need some details from you about how. I need to know what you need, hon. Can you specify your brainwashing goals, please?”

You cringe. She’s asked so many times in so many ways, and you still don’t have a good answer. You just want to stop *being* for a while, without having to end it all.

“May I make a suggestion?” A cool voice wraps itself around you from behind, a breeze across your skin. Your flesh prickles, but something tells you not to turn. “It sounds like this one needs Protocol 001.”

The receptionist arcs an eyebrow at the person behind you, but says, “Certainly. Would you like to look over the parameters for Protocol 001?” She taps her touchscreen a couple times, then spins the tablet to face you.

Trying not to blush as both women watch you peruse the protocol specs, you lean forward over the tablet.

PROTOCOL #: 001

DESIGNATION: DOLL INDUCTION

PARAMETERS: SUBJECT WILL BE GENTLY SEPARATED FROM THEIR SENSE OF PERSONHOOD, REDUCED TO A BLANK SLATE OF SEXUAL SUBMISSION, AND PRIMED FOR FURTHER BRAINWASHING AS A LIVING DOLL

REQUIRED SELECTIONS: HARD LIMITS, ALLERGIES, EXISTING HEALTH CONDITIONS, LENGTH OF SERVICE

OPTIONAL SELECTIONS: SOFT AVOIDANCES, DESIRED PRIMARY FUNCTION

“Oh,” you sigh, relieved that there’s a protocol for this, that you don’t have to keep *deciding* things. “Thank goodness.” You’re not *good* at deciding things. You seem to keep making the wrong decision; it’s time to let somebody else make up your mind for you. Just for a little while. Just until it makes sense to stop.

“Very good,” the receptionist says, businesslike but not unkind. “Let me just get your required selections from you; the Nurse here will just go get your pod ready while we go over all the particulars.”

You only allow yourself to look at the source of the suggestion as she walks past you. The Nurse doesn’t much like one; she’s a short, curvy woman with dimples, dressed in an iridescent vinyl bustier, frothy black petticoat, and tall leather boots under her labcoat. She has a headpiece with a mic and what looks like cat ears. She grins at you, almost hungrily, as she goes into the next room.

Suppressing an anticipatory shiver, you answer all the receptionist’s questions. She inputs them into the program, then has you sign what feels like a dozen forms. Finally, finally, she shows you to a seat by the door the Nurse went through.

You wait, nervously tapping your fingers on your thighs. Being alone with your thoughts is never a good idea, especially not for long. Especially not when you’re nervous.

“All set?” the Nurse’s cool voice punctures your ballooning thoughts with clinical efficiency. Her feral smile is strangely inviting. “Come on back, cutie; I’ve got your pod all set up.”

Trying not to blush, you stumble over yourself to follow her down a dimly lit hallway. “Do I need to—“ you start to ask, but she shakes her head.

“Don’t worry, sweetness; all the instructions will come through your headphones once I get you plugged in.” She opens a door on the left side of the hall and leads you into what looks like a strange, tiny cubicle version of a doctor’s office—like maybe one in space? At the center of the room is an iridescent vinyl table-bed-like thing with black straps and a large assortment of wires, which looks both ominous and inviting.

“Left ear,” the Nurse warns, fitting an earbud snugly into your ear with an efficient touch. “Right ear,” she says, fitting the other, then patting your face affectionately, almost like a puppy. You can’t help the slight flush to your cheeks as she hands you a small clicker with a shielded button. “Now, you can push this button if you need help, have an urgent question, or want to stop at any time, and it’ll release you from the program and I’ll come help you out, okay?”

You nod, and the Nurse beams at you. “Good dolly,” she says, patting your face again. “I’ll be right in the next room, okay?” She points at a framed mirror on the wall; presumably two-way. “I started with the same protocol, so don’t hesitate to push the button and ask for help if you need anything. I may come in and out during your program; other attendants may come and go as well. No one will touch you without the headphones warning you, okay?”

You nod, heart pounding. You should be nervous, scared, even, but mostly you’re just eager to finally let *go*.

The Nurse smiles at you again, tapping a button on her wristband, and the earbuds in your ears crackle quietly to life. The Nurse waves cheerily at you and leaves the room as the program begins.

WELCOME, SUBJECT 3004. PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF YOUR CLOTHING OTHER THAN BODY JEWELRY AND STEP INTO THE STEAM SHOWER IN THE CORNER. YOU MAY LEAVE YOUR BELONGINGS IN THE CUBBY PROVIDED.

You shiver and obey, leaving most of what ties you to the outside world in their iridescent plastic cube before stepping into the glass box shower cubical.

Strange-smelling vapor hisses out of the floor and ceiling grates, gushing warmly over your skin and beading it with moisture. It feels sharp, astringent, almost like washing your hands with alcohol, but somehow entirely different.

YOU ARE BEING WASHED WITH A MILD CLEANSING STEAM. PLEASE SPREAD YOUR ARMS INTO A T POSITION, HOLD THE WALL BAR, AND SQUAT OVER THE FLOOR GRATE WITH YOUR LEGS APART.

You hurry to obey, feeling lightheaded at the sensation of the cleansing vapor billowing into all the soft parts of your body, held open in this position.

INITIAL CLEANSE COMPLETE. PLEASE PROCEED TO THE CENTRAL BED AND ARRANGE YOURSELF ON YOUR BACK, WITH YOUR FEET IN THE STIRRUPS. SAY “READY” WHEN YOU ARE IN POSITION, AND A NURSE WILL CONNECT YOU TO THE NEXT PHASE OF THE PROGRAM.

You tiptoe across the room, already feeling a little divorced from reality by the futuristic box of a room. You climb onto the iridescent medical bed, laying back and awkwardly hoisting your feet into the stirrups, holding your legs spread and aloft. There’s no towel, sheet, or medical robe that you can see; you’re just spread open, waiting for the Nurse.

“Ready,” you say, trying not to let your voice shake.

The Nurse doesn’t make you wait long. Her smile already feels familiar and comforting in this alien room, even if you’re in a very awkward position.

You open your mouth to greet her, but she shakes her head, giggling, and puts a finger to her lips.

PLEASE RELAX AND DO NOT SPEAK. THE NURSE WILL STRAP YOU IN AND CONNECT YOU TO YOUR HYPNOTHERAPY MODULE NOW.

The Nurse fastens straps around your ankles, fixing them to the stirrups, holding your legs splayed. Next come more soft, neoprene-like straps fastened loosely around your thighs, hips, waist, ribs, underarms, biceps, and wrists. You’re well and truly pinned to the table.

A muffling darkness descends as the Nurse lowers a helmet and visor over your head.

REMAIN CALM AND ALLOW THE NURSE TO PREPARE YOU. YOUR PROGRAM WILL BEGIN ONCE YOU ARE FULLY CONNECTED.

You gasp as a thin, cool tendril—the end of a plastic tube, maybe?—nudges at your rear entrance. You instinctively clench against it, but the Nurse’s touch is firm, and the end of the tube, narrow and slick, slides inside you.

A strange pressure, and then there’s a cool burst of fluid rushing to fill your insides. You groan involuntarily, and through the headphones and helmet, you think you hear the Nurse giggle. There’s another push, and a second, bigger gush of slickness filling you up.

The end of the plastic tube withdraws, and you can feel some of the slick liquid dribble out of you after it. It’s probably lube, but there’s a strange tingling sensation from it as well—a drug, maybe? You do remember that consent form.

OPEN YOUR MOUTH.

You obey blindly, opening your lips to let a soft, silicone-covered ring gag fit between them, holding your mouth open wide. Your tongue lolls awkwardly out of the hole, already dribbling drool down your neck and chest.

SWALLOW WHAT YOU ARE GIVEN.

You shudder as a fat tube syringe slides past the ring gag and squirts something saccharinely sweet and medical-tasting over the back of your tongue and down your throat. The Nurse’s fingers stroke your throat, encouraging you to swallow until you manage it.

Your head is spinning already.

A cold metal object probes at your slick, dripping asshole, then pushes firmly inside. You gasp inarticulately as the probe seats itself deep inside you, bulbous metal head rounding off to a narrow neck so your hole relaxes around it, letting the intrusion grow almost comfortable after a moment.

Distantly, you feel the Nurse attaching electrodes to your flesh—your temples under the helmet, your armpits, nipples, navel, inner thighs, pubic mound, perineum.

IF ANY OF YOUR PROBES ARE CAUSING DISCOMFORT, PLEASE ALERT THE NURSE NOW BY PRESSING THE BUTTON IN YOUR HAND. OTHERWISE, REMAIN STILL AND SILENT FOR 30 SECONDS, AND THE PROGRAM WILL BEGIN.

You start counting backwards in your head, but the strange fuzzy feeling from whatever drugs the Nurse gave you makes you forget halfway through. You’re only a little startled when a new voice, sweet and feminine, though still almost alien, ripples through the headphones.

“Good morning, pretty dolly. Do you know who I am?”

You gurgle around the ring gag, shaking your head sluggishly.

“I’m the Main Interface Service System, or MISS. I’m here to help you become the perfect doll. Are you ready to leave all that messy real world nonsense behind and come live in the Dreamworld?”

You groan into the gag, nodding your helmeted head against the medical chair. The drugs are making the probe anchored in your ass feel *so good*. Like it’s the only thing holding you to the world.

“Good dolly. Breathe in for me, okay? Deep breath. And now out, out, out…good job, Dolly. Deep breaths. Now, when the visuals are pink, you breathe in, okay? And when they’re blue, you breathe out.”

Light flickers to life in the helmet’s visor.

“Pink, in.”

A dizzying array of pink-tinted images flash through your vision—cherry blossoms, a spread vulva, a tube of pink lipstick, a gasping mouth, a neon sign, a swollen cockhead leaking precum, a peach, an anus flared around a jeweled plug, a field of tulips, a dildo buried in a squirting cunt, a blooming rose—as you inhale.

“Blue, out.”

You exhale slowly to a cascade of blue-tinted images—a cloudy sky, clamped nipples, forget-me-nots, a beautifully-bruised ass, morning glories, a caged cock trying to swell past its bonds, a cresting wave, a clothespin-clamped clit, a bluebird’s wing, a mouth spread around a ring gag, a galactic nebula.

“Good dolly. Again. Pink, in. Blue, out.”

You obey the voice for several more iterations, until it’s only natural to inhale to pink, exhale to blue.

Then the voice continues.

“In a little while, the Nurse will take your gag out and you’ll practice repeating after me. Until then, all you have to do is breathe and watch and listen, okay, Dolly? Breathe in to pink, out to blue. Watch and listen.”

The cycling images switch to video. Every few seconds, the filter over the video changes from pink to blue, and your lungs obey the color shift completely without thought already. In to pink, out to blue.

You watch the screen inside your helmet raptly as a series of pornographic clips flash by:

A gorgeous feminine figure in a maid uniform with her legs up, wailing in agonized pleasure as her rear entrance is stretched open by two cocks at once and her own hard cock bounces, leaking, against her apron. Two men hold her up, hammering at her hole with jostling cocks. One paws at her breasts, ripping her uniform to reveal them. The other wraps his hand around the maid’s cock and begins to jerk her off. She throws her head back and screams as her cock spurts all over her uniform; the men don’t stop, continuing to fuck her as she she goes slack with boneless pleasure in their arms. One cums, his spunk leaking out around the other’s cock as the remaining stud lifts the maid up himself and fucks into her stretched hole furiously, making her wail and kick her legs as the overstimulation takes hold. The spent man shoves his sticky cock into the maid’s wailing mouth and holds her head down til she gags and sucks it clean. The second man cums hard, slamming the maid down onto his cock several times before pulling out and shoving her into the arms of the first man, the one she’s sucking. Without pause, the second man kneels down behind the maid and begins licking the mess of cum out of her leaking hole.

A pretty woman in a princess dress and a tiara is bent over the arm of a velvet chaise, her bare bum in the air. Another woman, dressed like a young schoolgirl, is giggling while forcing the legs of a Barbie doll into the princess’ pussy. Another doll is sticking out of the princess’ asshole, buried to her narrow waist. The princess is weeping prettily while her holes are played with, the schoolgirl gleefully forcing repeated agonized, squirting orgasms out of her living princess doll with the Barbie’s buried legs.

A young woman in a babydoll nightgown and thin panties is bound splayed to a bed by her wrists and ankles. There’s a pacifier gag in her mouth, and her hair is braided into pigtails. Another woman pets between the babydoll’s spread legs, then slaps the babydoll’s pussy, watching smugly as the panties go dark with moisture. The woman slaps again and again, making the babydoll scream into her paci and jerk against her bonds. The panties are soaked. The woman presses a large wand vibrator to the babydoll’s panties and turns it on, grinding it into the abused flesh mercilessly and giggling while the babydoll bucks and cries as the sensations shake through her.

A glamorous woman in a slinky dress and stiletto heels bends over a railing above a party, large breasts spilling out of her dress while an owl-masked man fondles them from behind. A hawk-masked woman hikes the doll’s skirt up around her waist, revealing a plump ass with a jeweled plug in it. The owl-masked man pulls the plug out without ceremony and shoves his thin cock in its place, making the doll gasp prettily. He fucks her fast and leaves her hole dripping with his cum before another man, this one in a falcon mask, takes his place. This cock is shorter and thicker, and the doll’s leg kicks up involuntarily when he shoves into the sticky mess the owl man left behind. Eight more men fill the doll’s ass with cum before the hawk-masked woman pushes the tenth one off the doll. Rather than giving the doll a rest, the hawk-masked woman plugs the doll’s ass back up with the cum inside it, then pulls the doll back against her chest and begins to kiss her neck and play with her dollcock. The doll’s cock is small and mostly soft—a tcock, maybe, or a clitty, and it’s unclear what’s below it—but it’s only a few moments before it’s twitching and leaking in the hawk woman’s hand. The doll cums messily, spurting all over her own slinky dress and the hawk-masked woman’s fist. The doll licks the woman’s hand clean before laying down on the floor, where the hawk woman hikes up her own skirt and kneels to straddle the doll’s face while all the masked partygoers look on.

A doll in a frilly lolita dress lays across a woman’s lap in the backseat of a car. A man is driving up front, ignoring the women except to touch his cock with one hand while he drives. The woman’s hand moves steadily between the doll’s legs. The doll’s hands are covering her mouth as she tries and fails to stay quiet. She babbles and begs as the woman’s hand keeps moving under the doll’s frilly petticoats. Her face is streaked with tears. The woman beams down at her and strokes the doll’s teary face with one hand while the other continues its task between the doll’s legs. The camera pans down to show a long string of anal beads, each of increasing size, trailing out of the doll’s ass. The woman is still working them in; it’s clear she has no intention of stopping until they’re all inside. The doll’s pussy is soaked and untouched save for the screwclamp on her swollen clit. Occasionally, the woman flicks the clamp, and the doll screams and her pussy lips get wetter.

“You’re going to be just like those dolls,” the voice murmurs in your ear between each clip. “You can feel it, can’t you? You need to be played with until you know what you want. Don’t you want to be played with, dolly?”

The probe in your ass feels so good, but it’s not enough. Your hole aches for more. You want what those dolls were getting.

“Open your mouth, dolly; the Nurse is going to take your gag out.”

You work your jaw once the obstacle is removed; it only aches a little.

“Repeat after me until I say otherwise. Ready?”

You swallow thickly. Your voice sounds distant to your own ears. “Ready.”

Another video flashes in, still alternating your breathing between pink and blue. In this one, a doll in a slip and bloomers is having her hair done by another doll. A third doll paints the first one’s nails, and a fourth is doing the first’s makeup. Like it’s a spa day just for her.

“I’m a perfect doll,” the voice coaxes.

“I’m a perfect doll,” you echo dumbly, watching the beautiful girls take care of each other so tenderly. You want to be touched like that.

“I live to serve the Doll Dreamworld.”

“I live to serve the Doll Dreamworld.”

The doll on the screen is done being prepared, and her preparations’ purpose is revealed: it’s her display day! She’s led, in nothing but a silken dressing gown, to a display window in the Welcome Hall. Her fellow dolls help her onto her display stand, helping her up into the seat of the fuckmachine and guiding its probes to each of her carefully-prepared holes.

“I want to be used for the pleasure of my playmates.”

“I want to be used for the pleasure of my playmates.”

A long, thin dildo with measuring markers is lined up with the doll’s perfectly painted mouth, clearly to show off her throat training. A stubby plug anchored her ass to the machine, unmoving except to vibrate once the machine is turned on, while an absurdly huge, curved dildo is lined up with the lips of her pre-slicked cunt. The head of a large wand vibrator is pressed firmly, inescapably, against her clit; any struggle away from the probes will push it tighter to her clit. Her limbs are strapped down by her fellow dolls, the curtains on the display window are opened, and the machine is turned on.

“I need to be used to feel pleasure.”

“I need to be used to feel pleasure.”

The doll’s whole body arches with a shout as the fuckmachine begins to move, its various limbs beginning their mechanized movements. The doll moans and gags around the cock sliding down her throat, but powers through, tipping her head back and swallowing hard around the five inch mark. Her eyes roll back in her head as the dildo in her pussy bottoms out, and the one in her throat slides in and out more easily as she gets distracted by the motion in her cunt.

“I need to be used. I need to be owned.”

“I need to be used. I need to be owned.”

The doll on the screen cums with a gurgled cry around the dildo in her throat, but the machine pays absolutely no heed. It continues to fuck her mercilessly through her orgasm. The doll’s legs tremble and her arms pull against her bonds with the force of the second orgasm that rocks through her.

“I don’t need to think, I just need to play.”

“I don’t need to think, I just need to play.”

The doll on the screen eventually has to tip her head to the side so the throat dildo gives her a break, but she made it all the way down to the 8 inch mark first, and the pride shows on her face. She slumps in her bonds as the dildo hammers away at her pussy, drawing yet another orgasm from her. There have been so many now. Her thighs are drenched in her own squirt, and the dildo is smeared with her cream. She looks like the image of pure bliss.

“I want the Nurse to help me cum now.”

You mean it *desperately* when you repeat it. “I want the Nurse to help me cum now.”

The assistance is immediate; the Nurse’s efficient hands line up a soft pad of ridged, vibrating silicone with your front parts, pressing it firmly over them and strapping it into place before turning it on. The Nurse taps away at her tablet, and the electrodes all over your body begin to tingle. Not quite painful, just—aaaah, just *something*.

“I want the Nurse to make me cum three times before she lets me stop.”

You shiver and rub against the pad, already humming gently against your sensitive flesh. “I want the Nurse to make me cum three times before she lets me stop.” You know it’s going to be too much, too fast. You can’t wait.

The probe in your ass begins to buzz softly, and the vibration on the front pad increases.

The image on the screen in your visor changes again:

A doll is strapped down, naked, helpless, to a medical chair in the middle of a small cubicle of a room, a visored helmet on her head. Her legs are splayed up and open but her privates are covered by a vibrating pad. A thick anal probe holds her in place on the medical chair. Electrodes and wires hooked up to what might be a TENS unit protrude from her everywhere. A curvy Nurse is holding a tablet with a series of slides and dials; clearly a control panel. The doll on the table shivers when she recognizes herself. The Nurse giggles and pets the doll’s thigh; you feel the touch.

“I’m a perfect doll and I’m ready to play.”

You can’t help but arch and whimper as the Nurse begins to fiddle with the controls. Your pleasure begins to build, coiling low in your belly. “I’m a p-perfect doll,” you moan, grinding into the vibrations. “And—a-and I’m ready to—ahh—play.”

The Nurse beams down at the doll.

“When I cum for the Nurse, my dollhood begins.”

You can feel it building already, the first orgasm, far too soon. It’ll be too much by the third one; you can’t wait. “When I cum for the Nurse, my dollhood begins.”

The electrodes increase their strange sensations across your skin, arcing through your flesh, while the probe and pad hum against your most sensitive places. The Nurse watches coolly as the doll on the screen begins to twitch and wriggle under the onslaught of sensations. The doll on the screen wails and arches beautifully as she cums, the sound ripping itself from your throat.

To be continued…? Send me more prompts and I’ll write more for you! 💖

[hanmaitani]

Almost You

PAIRING - Oikawa Tooru x Reader WC - 0.8K GENRE - Angst SYNOPSIS - you hate his generic name and his stupid unspecial brown hair. hate the way you can’t do anything without seeing a knockoff of him there. it was almost him and now you see almost him in everything, in everyone, everywhere.

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

“Tooru!”

It was a girl’s voice that caught your attention and you froze mid-action. There was no way he-

“Tooru! Baby!”

Your neck nearly snapped as you whipped your head over to where the girl's voice seemed to be coming from. Your eyes followed her figure as you watched her run into the arms of a blonde guy in front of the coffee shop a few doors down.

You swallowed hard and shook your head. A soft breath that you'd accidentally held passed through your lips. Of course it wasn’t him.

There was no reason for him to be here, not when were on the opposite end of the prefecture from where he usually frequented. You rolled your eyes at your own paranoia.

You hated it. All of it. The paranoia about seeing him. The reaction you had to merely just hearing his name.

You felt ridiculous. Like you’d cursed myself. You hadn’t realized how common the name Tooru really was until you’d broken up.

You never needed to pay attention to how common it was before. He was the only one that mattered to you anyways.

But now?

Now it was like you couldn’t go a full week without hearing it at least twice. Seeing it on a paper or hearing someone call it.

It was like you couldn’t do anything new without meeting someone who just so happens to have the same name.

You rolled your eyes at yourself again and took a deep breath to try and steady your nerves. Continuing to walk forward, you aimed your steps towards the coffee shop you’d just watched the couple disappear into.

Coffee was the goal of your adventure today. Only coffee.

You couldn’t stop yourself from tapping your foot and mindlessly scrolling on your phone as you waited for your turn in line. Distractions from the aching inside of you caused by the constant reminders of Tooru everywhere.

That was what most of your days started as now. The pain of trying to break all the habits.

The instinct to turn over in the morning to greet him, to text him in the middle of your work day to check in, to call him on your way home to ask what you should get or make for dinner.

The days went on and it was less and less of that.

But some days. Some days were worse than others. Like today.

“Just give me a moment.” The sound of the barista’s voice drew your eyes up and you felt your breath leave your chest again. The man on the other side of the counter from you was facing away from the line, finishing off the previous drink.

It was his hair that sent your brain reeling. Perfect brown waves covering his head.

Just like Tooru.

He turned to face you, a smile gracing his face. A total stranger. And you could only imagine what you looked like, shock painted over your features as you stood there frozen, silent.

“You okay ma’am?” A charming smile, just like Tooru’s. Almost but not him. “What can I get you?”

“I’m so sorry.”  You croaked out and took a shaky step back.

You hated Tooru. His stupid generic name.

“I’ve changed my mind.” You whipped yourself around and rushed back towards the door.

Hated Tooru. His stupid unspecial brown hair.

You rushed, trying not to think, trying to get home as fast as possible.

You hated him. Hated the way you couldn’t do anything without seeing a knockoff of him there.

You wwere quick to get home, barely remembering the way there. Just the slamming of your door as you pressed your back against it.

You glanced over at the few boxes you had left in your new apartment. Three boxes.

You felt something wet drip onto my chest and brought your hand up. Tears. You hadn’t even realized you’d been crying until then but your cheeks were soaked.

You sniffled and felt your legs give out under you.

You’d tried.

Tried to go out today.

For the first time in weeks you’d tried.

But you couldn’t do it. Not yet.

You pulled your knees up to your chest. Your eyes caught the framed poster sticking out of one of the boxes.

A poem he’d written and had framed on a star map of the night you finally agreed to be his girlfriend.

When the stars aligned and the moon was bright, that was when I realized the time was right.

It felt like you were suffocating.

It was almost him.

He was almost your life.

It was almost him and now you had to see ‘almost him’ in everything, in everyone, everywhere.

a/n a/n thanks for coming to the free therapy of fictionalizing my irl breakup experiences. yes this actually happened. partially based on an unreleased song by @/leannafirestone on tiktok based on "You Just Didn't Like Me That Much" by Leanna Firestone

TAGLIST - OPEN

@all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings @winniethepooh-lover

[capypub]

Without Warning - Mafia!Joel Miller Scene 2

AU Mafia!Joel Miller x Original Female Character

Rating: T (language, sexual themes, mentions of drugs)

Minors DNI. 18+ content!

Scene 1 Scene 3

Summary: Joel returns to the Tipsy Bison with his mind on one thing only after doing business near the border. Even though he feels out of practice, he somehow manages to get the girl, until she finds the literal gun in his pants.

A week goes by, Indi works another three nights without seeing him again. She thinks about that night more than she’d like to admit. After the initial shock had worn off, she realized how incredibly hot it was for this silver fox to come out of nowhere and stand up for her. Yes, he was a little intense for someone simply bumping into her, but something about those dark eyes and broad shoulders had her pulse fluttering and thighs clenching. 

It was a slower night, and she had just closed out her last tab. It wasn’t even nine yet and the place was looking dead. She leaned on the bar at the service well, helping Jared cut limes. 

“Like is it me? Am I the problem? Is there something on my face that says I like being played by idiots with nice butts?” Jared ranted, slicing a lime in half with much more force than needed.

“Of course not,” Indi said with a small smile, always there for her friend’s dating rants.

“Like I swear, Michael, the last guy I was talking to,” he went on, rolling his eyes and sticking his tongue out in disgust, “I swear, his entire goal in life is to be as petty as the Greek gods, this man could not just let things go,” he huffed. 

“Michael was the one with the nose ring, right?” she clarified.

“Yeah, hot piercings, huge dick, no communication skills whatsoever,” he grumbled.

“I think your energy just attracts people wanting to steal it,” she said thoughtfully, “plus you have a nice butt, so that doesn’t help,” she adds, leading both to laugh for a moment. 

“Hey Jared, it’s dead tonight, I’ll keep an eye on the bar, why don’t you head out early?” Tommy offered, coming up to them from the other end.

“Oh hell yeah, you don’t need to tell me twice,” Jared said, immediately perking up, “Is it cool if I hang out here for a bit though? I have food on the way,” he admitted.

“Sure kid, I’ll even pour you a drink while you wait,” Tommy shrugged with that easygoing smile Indi had grown to enjoy. 

He wasn’t here every night, but tried to show up for a bit as often as possible. She’d learned that this is more of a side business for him, his real work being with Joel doing construction or contracting or something. 

“Want a shot, Indi?” Tommy asked, breaking her from her thoughts.

“I’m on the clock though?” she pointed out softly, obviously confused by his offer.

Both Tommy and Jared let out a short laugh, Jared coming around the bar to sling his arm around her and playfully pinch her cheek. She retaliated by elbowing him in the ribs with a small pout.

“Don’t worry, darlin’, a shot or two never hurt no one, plus it’s not like we’re doing much tonight anyways,” Tommy said, smoothly pouring two shots of whiskey and a shot of vodka at Indi’s request, sliding a glass to the two on the other side of the bar.

They tapped their glasses together, each one throwing the shot back with practiced ease. Tommy didn’t miss the slight grimace on her face though after she had swallowed and shook her head. 

The trio looked up simultaneously when they heard someone enter. Indi could feel Jared tense up beside her, his arm still around her as they watched Joel walk over to the same corner table as before, sitting with his back to the wall, eyes on his phone as he sent a text. God, he was gorgeous, ruffled hair, heavy boots, and a light coating of dust on his pants. 

“Ah shit, here comes trouble,” Tommy said, grabbing a glass from the drying rack and pouring a double shot of bourbon, “here Indi, take this over to ‘m, I already know he’ll start his bullshit if I go over there,” he explained, sliding the rocks glass towards her.

“What do you mean?” she asked as she accepted the glass, wrapping a napkin around the bottom.

“He won’t talk shop if he’s got a pretty face distractin’ ‘im,” Tommy explained with a sly wink, turning around before she could argue to check on the few barflies that still remained.

“Good luck, dude,” Jared said with a scoff, removing his arm with a knowing smirk, having heard about Joel’s previous antics from the other waitresses.

She took a deep breath, suddenly nervous to do the one thing she’d been hired to do - bring a drink to someone. Moving slowly across the concrete floor, she approached Joel’s table, setting the glass down between them. He looked up from his phone momentarily, his eyes widening briefly as he realized it was her.

“Hey sugar,” he greeted her coolly, tucking his phone into his pocket, not even bothering to finish the message he was typing, “Appreciate it,” he said, nodding to the drink, but not touching it.

“Do…you want something else?” she asked cautiously, unsure of whether he usually ordered something different. 

Joel’s gaze drifted slowly from the top of her head to her feet. She sported some black thigh high socks with little ribbons just above her knees this time. Paired with the usual black top and pleated black skirt, Joel felt his cock twitch at the sight of her. Absolutely fucking gorgeous. He was glad that the Bison was basically empty, besides the same  few old fucks who practically lived in those bartstools near the TVs. 

“Why don’t you keep me company for a bit? I’m sure Tommy won’t mind. ‘s not like you're busy, right?” he suggested, sitting a little straighter as she blinked at him with those gorgeous wide eyes. 

“I, um…o-okay,” she agreed before her nerves could talk herself out of it. 

That deep voice seasoned with his southern drawl and those mesmerizing dark eyes had her terrified and excited at the same time. Something about the older man looking at her like a hungry predator, a tall, dark-haired, gorgeous predator who she would happily lay herself out for if he wanted to feast on her dripping wet-.

“Darlin? You okay?” he asked, breaking her concentration. 

She realized she had just been standing and staring at him for longer than what was probably necessary. With a short nod and timid smile, she reached for the chair directly across from him. The slight jump of surprise when she was met with resistance had her looking down at the chair, noticing his boot hooked on one of the legs, keeping it in place.

“Why so far away, sweetheart? Gonna have to sit a lil’ closer, got bad hearing in one ear,” he explained easily, stretching his arm to pull out the chair directly to his left. 

“O-okay,” she agreed, moving quickly to take a seat, feeling awkward and exposed under his heated stare. 

Once seated, Joel brought his arm around the back of her chair. She sat straight up, not even touching the backrest, but she could still feel the heat from him radiating against her bare arms. 

“How’s your first week been? Anyone givin’ you any trouble?” he asked, spreading his legs a little wider, leaning back comfortably in his chair, his fingers silently tapping against his still-full glass. 

“It’s good, no trouble at all, actually. I’m liking it here a lot,” she said, turning to check the bar only to find Tommy and Jared watching them, whispering to each other conspiratorially. 

“Don’t mind them,” Joel spoke softly, drawing her attention back to him, “I’m glad they haven’t scared you off yet, would hate to lose a pretty thing like you,” he continued, finally lifting the drink to his lips, speaking the last part around the rim before finishing the content in one swift movement.

“R-really?” she asked softly, her cheeks feeling warm from his words, her body buzzing eagerly as she smiled bashfully.

“Really, really,” he agreed coolly, “Got the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen, darlin’,” he added, bringing his hand up to rub the pad of his thumb against her cheek, barely touching her, his eyes focussed on where their skin connected, reveling in the electric vibrations he felt with each graze of her skin.

“You tell that to all your waitresses?” she questioned with a teasing little smirk.

Joel chuckled, closing his eyes with a light shake of his head. His little kitten had some fire in her, a spark of sass barely peeking above the surface just then. It made him want to know more, to see every color of her. Dropping his hand, he brought his arm around the back of her chair again, gripping the side and suddenly pulling her closer to him. The scrape of the wood on the cement floors had the handful of occupants looking their way. He noticed her slight jump afterwards.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart,” he said with another low chuckle, leaning closer to her, “This okay?”

“Y-yeah…this is okay,” she agreed, sounding breathless as his scent invaded her senses. 

He couldn’t help himself. Now that she was so close and he could smell her perfume mixed with her natural scent, see the goosebumps along her arm, and heard the little uptake in her breath when he leaned closer. The details were heightened even more than that first night and Joel just couldn’t get enough. 

“And to answer your question, you’re the only waitress I’m tellin’ this to,” he said, admiring the growing tint of pink on her cheeks.

Everything in his body was screaming at him to kiss her, to take her home and ravish her. He wanted to hear every little noise she could make for him, feel the goosebumps on her skin, mark her as his own. His cock was aching in his pants as she batted her lashes, looking up at him so innocently, those pouty lips begging to be kissed raw. 

Joel made the mistake of looking over her shoulder, finding Tommy staring at them. When the brothers' eyes met, Tommy arched his brow in question. Joel had never made a move on any of the waitresses before. Hell, Joel hadn’t made a move in so long, Tommy had just assumed he’d given up on things like that. Jared was also watching closely, holding a to-go box close to his chest, stuffing his face with Thai food as he watched his friend get hit on by the biggest, most dangerous crime lord this side of the Mississippi.

The lack of privacy made Joel suddenly uncomfortable. His mind and body were too aware of their surroundings when less than thirty seconds ago, he was ready to pull Indi against him and kiss her innocence away. He chooses to lean back in his seat instead, his arm still around the back of her chair but still not touching. 

“Tommy said you go to UT, must mean you’re pretty and smart,” he commented.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she scoffed, her blush only growing as she fidgeted in her seat, looking down at her hands.  

Joel followed her gaze, his attention drawn to her tattoo. He could now see all the finer details. It was an intricate piece of crescent moons, line art and stars. Wanting to get her to relax a little, he asked her about it. She told him a little about the design itself and why she got it. He then asked about the one on her shoulder. She turned in her seat, bringing her hair to one side as she showed him the ink on her shoulder blade. 

He could tell she wasn’t the biggest fan of talking about herself by the limited details and questions directing the focus back to him that seemed to follow her answers.

“Want something to drink? On me of course,” he offered after a lull in the conversation, finding any excuse to keep her beside him. 

“I’m technically still working,” she said, that gorgeous smile making it hard for Joel to focus on her words. 

“Well let’s change that, huh?” he suggested with a smirk, getting up from the table, heading right towards Tommy who was restocking the bar, Jared nowhere in sight. 

“Can I have my employee back, now that you’ve got her all flustered and shit?” his brother teased.

“Actually, I was gonna suggest you send ‘er home for the night,” Joel said, glancing over his shoulder to find Indi making her way over to them. 

“Who’s going to close if I send ‘er home?” Tommy questioned with a scowl, but Joel could see the amusement in his eyes. 

“Your bar, you close,” Joel shrugged, “Let her take the night, Tommy, come on,” he insisted with a scowl of his own. 

“Who’s getting sent home?” Indi asked, coming to stand beside Joel, looking so small next to his larger form. 

“Apparently you,” Tommy said with a snicker.

“Joel,” she said, looking up at him with a mixture of shock and exasperation, “you can’t just do  that…”

It was the first time she had actually said his name to him. The syllables on her lips were world-shattering for him, his name never sounding so sweet until she uttered it. He wanted to hear her say his name over and over again. He briefly wondered what she would sound like wrapped in his arms, head thrown back in pleasure…

“Joel…Joel!” Tommy snapped, snapping his fingers in front of his brother’s face. 

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Joel huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Up to you, darlin’, if you want to stay, I’m closin’ up in the next couple hours anyways, wasting money keeping an empty bar open,” Tommy said to her.

Joel looked down at her, watching her expression as she contemplated the offer. The way she bit her lower lip as she considered her options had him wanting to bite her lip with his own teeth, among other places. 

“I guess I could use a night off,” she said slowly after the long silence.

Without realizing it, Joel felt his shoulders relax just a touch. She looked between the two men, like she wanted to say something else. Joel resisted the urge to reach out and touch her, pull her close, feel her body against his own, offer some sort of comfort. Tommy set two shot glasses down, pouring something clear in one before sliding it over to Indi. He opted for well whiskey in the other, taking it for himself. Joel raised his brow questioningly at his brother. 

“Oh I’m sorry, you want me to pour your drink too, princess?” Tommy asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes with a grin as he set another glass in front of Joel along with his preferred bourbon. 

“You’re cut off, asshole,” Joel huffed, easily pouring a shot for himself, feeling Indi watching their interaction with a little grin. 

“Can’t cut off the boss,” Tommy fired back, raising his glass to the two of them before downing it. 

Indi followed suit, taking her shot like a champ with minimal cringing. Joel couldn’t help but notice how cute her little scrunched up expression was as she swallowed her shot. He tipped back the contents of his own glass with ease, downing it like water, exhaling slowly through his nose as he set his glass down.

“Last I checked, I’m the boss,” he reminded his brother, “Get your stuff, darlin’, I’ll drive you home,” he added to Indi before he could consider how that might come off to her. 

She giggled, seeming less affected by his gruff directness. “Yes, sir,” she said with a playful smile, walking towards the back room to collect her things, her response stoking that fire she’d started in him when he first saw her. 

Once she was out of hearing range, Tommy couldn’t contain his laughter. He continued to snicker even as Joel glared at him. 

“Since when do you drive anyone home besides yourself?” Tommy asked.

“Watch your mouth, baby brother, I’m not in the mood to deal with you tonight,” Joel grumbled, rolling his eyes. 

“What are you even doin’ here, man? I thought you’d head straight home after gettin’ back from the border.”

“Wanted to stop by for a drink,” Joel muttered, looking down at the wooden bartop. 

“I know your liquor cabinet is stocked way better than what we got here, so cut the crap, Joel, just say you wanted t’ see ‘er,” Tommy responded, collecting the glasses and tossing them in the sink. 

“What’s it matter to you?” Joel questioned, feeling his defenses start to rise. 

“She’s a good worker, wouldn’t want to lose her because you don’t know how to ask a girl out,” he shrugged with a chortle. 

“Fuck off,” Joel fired back, ready to say more, but spotted Indi coming towards them with a bag on her shoulder. 

“What’s so funny?” she asked, noticing Tommy’s trembling shoulders as he tried to contain his snickering. 

“Nothin’, let’s go,” Joel said before his brother could open his mouth, bringing an arm around but still not touching her as he guided her towards the front door. 

“Y’all kids be safe now, y’ hear!” Tommy called after them, the echoes of his laughter following them out the door. 

Once they were outside, Joel noticed the only other car in the lot besides his truck was Tommy’s truck. Indi kept close to him as they walked towards his vehicle.

“You walk to work?” Joel asked, unlocking the truck and opening the passenger door for her. 

“Jared gave me a ride, my car’s in the shop right now,” she explained, climbing up into the seat. 

Once they were both buckled in, the truck started with a low rumble, the interior shaking momentarily from the force of the startup. She looked over at him with those eyes, that alluring gaze that suggested more than her innocent demeanor would leave others to believe. He swallowed the dryness in his throat, realizing they’re now completely alone, the dimly lit parking lot casting shadows across them as he looked her over. 

He shifted his body towards, one hand on the steering wheel, his other arm resting on the edge of the center console. In the enclosed space, her scent invaded all his senses, overwhelming his mind. 

“You know, I could hear Tommy from the break room,” she said quietly, looking down at her hands in her lap, an coy grin on her face. 

“Oh yeah?” he replied stiffly, feeling his stomach drop at her revelation, fearing Tommy’s big mouth had somehow fucked up any chance he had with getting close to her. 

“Is it true?” she asked, glancing nervously up at him.

“Is what true, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his eyes drawn to her lips as she turned her body towards him, unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning slightly on the center console towards him.

“That you came here because…you wanted to, um, see…me?” she asked hesitantly. 

He bit his lip, his eyes drifting down to her own lips, so close and so inviting. Amusement spread across her features as her lips twitched up into a small grin. Joel tried opening his mouth once, twice, three times but nothing came out. He must have looked like a damn fish, completely at a loss of words and floundering painfully. 

“If it was true?” he finally choked out, his body thrumming with nerves.

God he felt so pathetic, fucking fifty years old and stumbling over a girl like a damn teenager. She reached across the console to put her hand just above his denim-covered knee, still a bit dusty from having to shoot a guy in the middle of the desert, but she didn’t need to know that. 

“I’d be very happy if it was true,” she said softly, squeezing his leg lightly.

He huffed out a breath of relief, a nervous laugh breaking the stillness around them. Looking down at her hand on his leg, brought his own hand, much larger and rougher, over hers. She watched as he brought her hand to his lips, the edge of his mustache tickling her knuckles as he pressed his lips to her fingers. She could feel the slight tremble in his hand as he exhaled slowly.

“Joel?” she asked gently, her eyes focussed on where his lips pressed against her skin.

“Yeah, sugar?” he mumbled against her fingers, eyes closing slowly as he inhaled her scent. 

She squeezed his hand, causing him to open his eyes and realize she had inched closer, her face dangerously close to his own, her body now leaning fully over the middle console. He shuddered, feeling his heart start to beat a mile a minute, threatening to burst out of his chest. 

“Will you kiss me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she glanced between his eyes and his mouth.

“Anything you want,” he agreed before closing the space between them, both his hands coming up to hold her face.

The kiss started slow and tender. Joel couldn’t help the satisfied groan when he was able to taste her lips, a hint of vodka mixed with her coconut chapstick. She allowed him to guide her, to lead the kiss and set the pace. The more he tasted, the more he wanted, his mouth beginning to move more fervidly, his tongue tracing her lips before sliding along her own. 

When his hand moved to hold the nape of her neck, she whimpered softly, her own fingers twisted into the material of his shirt. The little noise was enough to set Joel’s desire ablaze, his other hand sliding down her arm to grip her waist. Surprisingly Joel felt much more in control of himself then he expected he would be. He hadn’t kissed someone like this in so long, but his body seemed to know exactly what to do. 

“J-Joel,” she sighed against his mouth, “fuck, Joel,” she moaned, her eyes blissfully shut, head tilted back as his mouth drifted down her jaw to her neck, the scruff of his beard scratching deliciously against her skin. 

“Like how you say m’ name, sweetheart,” he muttered into the crook of her neck, biting lightly which earned a higher pitched moan and her fingers moving to tightly grip the hair at the back of his neck.

He brought his mouth back to hers, hungry for more, more of her taste, more of her sounds, just more of her. No amount of drugs could match the high he was feeling as her nails scratched lightly along the back of his neck and her mouth on his. One of her hands drifted down his chest, her palm tracing down side and up his back. Fuck, he never enjoyed someone touching him so much. 

Just as he was about to give in and pull her over the console into his seat, she tensed. Pulling back, he realized how heavily they were both breathing, one hand holding her jaw, the other on the curve of her hip, his thumb drawing small circles into the material of her shirt, itching to lift it up enough to feel her skin. 

“W-what’s wrong, baby girl?” he asked with half-lidded eyes, feeling how stiff her body suddenly became and how she had let go of his hair.

She was looking at him with wide eyes, almost like she was frozen in place. Joel suddenly realized where her other hand had stopped, at the curve of his lower back, close enough to his belt to graze the 9mm he had forgotten was on him. She leaned away from him, bringing her hands back to herself.

“Joel…is that a gun?”

Scene 3

[lovethytendytenderly]

A/N: was thinking about my unfinished bonded players au (untitled argument fic) which is an unfinished oneshot that this may contradict but whatever. Have some bittersweet Ned/Jars goalie goal flashfic continued from here.

Shoutout to @tjarry for screaming and crying through last week with me and everyone who has checked up on me in dms. I’m not staying whimsy with it but I gotta start somewhere.

Ned’s chest feels like it’s glowing. All of his bonds radiating happiness and excitement and joy and so many positive emotions he couldn’t name them all or who they’re from. He’s not sure he could tease out individual bonds but he throws himself into the bench— into the arms of his teammates— anyway.

Afterwards, once he’s back in the locker room, before all the photos and media and celebrating, he takes a breath and holds it. He’s flying so high on joy and adrenaline, the whole team is, that he doesn’t want to come down. This week, this season has been shit. Ned wants to bottle this feeling and carry it in his pocket for when he feels down.

Ned gets back to his stall and is distracted by the buzzing of his phone behind him. It should be on silent but he must have forgotten to silence it before the game. He pulls it out to get a head start on the deluge of congratulations, maybe call some people. He’s not sure what he wants to do to be honest. It’d be nice to hear his wife’s voice, maybe see if his son stayed up past bedtime.

He barely has his phone out a minute before it’s confiscated. He manages to tap out a heart in response to his wife’s text before Bunts strides over and pulls it out of his hands. She’ll understand him not saying more. She knows their travel schedule and he’ll call her from the hotel later. Bunts tells him to enjoy the party in the locker room while he can. They can’t linger in Buffalo to celebrate, not with a plane to DC waiting for them and a game tomorrow, but his teammates go out of their way to not leave him alone. He’s inundated with backslaps, butt slaps, hugs, and touches.

Ned isn’t surprised by the team’s response. Ned had watched Tristan on the other side of this last year. He hadn’t wanted to stop touching Tristan either but had made room for the more established players in the room, the ones Tristan had bonds with then, and let them work out their joy. Now he basks in the joy down his own bonds and lets the boys celebrate their fill.

Bunts gives him his phone back on the plane, just in time to put it into airplane mode and put it away. There’s a well established rule of no phones at the card table. He doesn’t think anyone would fine him tonight of all nights, especially with how Michelle has been fluttering around documenting everything for social media, but habits are habits. It’s not until he gets to his hotel room that he’s able to actually go through his messages.

He calls his wife first, unsurprised but pleased that she’s still up. They talk for a while and it’s good. They’re going to be on the road for the rest of the month. He knows from prior experience that if he wants any moments with his family then they’re going to have up be stolen at odd hours and in between games. He’s got the puck in his hand as he unpacks just enough to get ready for bed, unable to stop touching it. Part of him is worried that if he puts it down it might vanish. He scrolls through his phone, answering texts as needed, most of them congratulations that he just needs to “❤️” react to.

He pauses for a moment as his thumb swipes him into his text thread with Tristan. Tristan hadn’t texted much, just a single yellow heart, a trophy, and a celebration emoji.

“💛🏆🎉”

Ned heart reacts the message and then gently teases through the bonds in his chest. He’s gotten better at telling them apart and honing in on the person on the other side since he accidentally hurt Tristan back in October. His bond with Tristan is quiet, muted in a way Ned has come to recognize means Tristan is asleep. Good. Ned’s been checking on Tristan, worried about his insomnia acting up with the way the week went.

There’s a pang in Ned’s chest all his own as he thinks of his partner and moves to place the puck on his bedside table. He would’ve loved for Tristan to be there on the bench for this, the way he’d gotten to share Tristan’s goal. As he climbs into bed, the emotions from practice on Wednesday threaten to come back in a rush and he swallows them down, focusing on his puck and the lingering happiness from his teammates settling into sleep in the hotel rooms around him. It’s late and they’ve got another game tomorr—today. Tonight. Joel is making his first start since October and the team needs to focus on playing better hockey in front of him.

His hand hovers over his phone screen, prepared to lock it and head to bed. He’s struck suddenly by the desire to hear Tristan’s voice. He hits call before he can think about it, resolving to listen to Tristan’s voicemail and leave a message; let him know he’ll call him in the morning. He settles more firmly against the hotel pillows, ready to do that.

He’s still got his bond with Tristan wrapped around his finger, taking comfort in the steadiness, which is why he knows there’s no change in it when the call connects and instead of Tristan’s voicemail message Ned gets a tired “hey” from the other side of the line. Ned’s heart does something in his chest and the bond fluctuates from it, smoothing out as the emotion transfers down the bond but met with a calm weariness on the other end.

“Hey,” Ned responds, not sure what to do or say now that Tristan is actually here. Tristan lets out a huge sigh that is partially a yawn on the other side of the phone.

“Good game,” Tristan says, his voice rough from the hour but underneath that still warm. There’s a weight of so many unsaid things between them and the bond is still muted in a way Ned doesn’t fully understand through the exhaustion leftover from adrenaline crash and the travel, but what he can feel directed at him from Tristan is warmth and genuine happiness. No matter what else is going on Tristan is still happy with Ned; happy to be bonded to him.

They aren’t doing FaceTime but Ned can imagine the smile on Tristan’s face— the one he saves for when Ned does something that only he can do, accomplishes a challenge that is just between the two of them. There’s always a bittersweetness at the edge of the smile, the competitiveness that binds them together and fuels them means that there’s always that feeling of *why couldn’t that have been me?* mixed in with the pride in the other’s accomplishment. Ned knows it well— felt it himself underneath his joy over Tristan’s goal last year.

Tristan takes a breath on the other end of the line, the sleepy emotions leaking down the bond conveying a seriousness that Ned finds is reflected in Tristan’s voice.

“You played— You showed them. Everyone. You deserve this. Whatever happens on the trip,” Tristan lets out a sigh on the other end of the phone, his voice dipping close to a whisper, “whatever happens this is yours.” Ned feels his breath catch as Tristan continues, the bond sparking and making Ned wish Tristan was closer— close enough to touch— to kiss. “This is yours. Not Joel’s or the pk’s or the team’s. This isn’t a shutty or a win. This is your goal. You made history tonight. They can’t take that away from you.”

Ned feels himself choking up, the words an echo of what he’d said to Tristan last year when trying to get him to celebrate his goal. Tristan had been reticent at the time; too shy to feel comfortable making a big deal of it and nervous about all of the attention after a summer spent reading one too many criticisms about his new contract. Tristan didn’t need to specify who they were; the media; the fans; hell they’d talked before shit had hit the fan this week about the rumblings from on high, the things Sully and Kyle had told them individually and together. They both knew that there was a chance neither of them ended their contracts in Pittsburgh though neither had wanted to voice that before Kyle had informed Tristan about the waivers situation.

Ned can’t help the emotion that transfers down the bond. He can’t name it like his therapist would tell him to. All he can do is keep it from spilling over into his other bonds and hope Tristan can handle it. The other goalie does, his breath rattling on the other end of the phone as he takes a sharp breath but his end of the bond doesn’t shift. Ned knows that’s not normal, but he can’t put his finger on why. Ned can feel how slow his thoughts are getting as he settles deeper into his hotel bed, Tristan’s breathing in his ear the last thing he needed to settle into sleep.

“Thank you,” Ned mumbles into his pillow more than the phone.

Tristan lets out a breath that could be a laugh or another yawn.

“It’s late and you played 60 minutes. Go to bed,” Tristan tells him, fondness coming down the bond and filling up Ned’s chest as it gentles him to sleep.

Ned yawns through his goodbye and hangs up the call, plugging his phone and falling asleep the minute his head hits the pillows, his heart full and glowing like the waning moon outside.

End note: What Ned is too tired to realize is that Tristan is muting/blocking his end of the bond. Not enough to sever it or anything but just enough to muffle the feelings and prevent it from feeling stretched thin once the team is on the other side of the country. He’s been working on it since the boys left Pittsburgh, trying to protect himself and Ned and everyone else he’s bonded too since it’s individual person-to-person bonds rather than one big team bond.

Oh also this is probably a comment for the tags but I kinda see this as a casual locker room poly verse. Ned is married but he and Jars are romantic/sexual, though you can read it as queerplatonic.

[faulty-writes]

[ This is a continuation of this request. I know I promised that I would write a part II ages ago because that's what all of you voted on. But better late than never! Here you go, I hope you enjoy it. Fair warning: I wrote this with the perspective of the reader taking medication to help their 'disorder' and I suppose you might want to skip reading this if you're sensitive to topics of medication and disorders. Requested Tag -> @canthebest1. Also tagging -> @kazuumii since this is a continuation of the request they requested. ]

[ You made the foolish decision to hide your "disorder" from Katsuki after receiving medication for it. Despite that, he and a few others noticed something was off about you. Katsuki is determined to change your mind when he discovers what you have been hiding from him. ]

When the doctor announced the diagnosis, your world crumbled, and darkness fell over you. Your mind raced with thoughts of your classmates, your teachers, your future goals as a hero, and more importantly, what Katsuki would think. You briefly considered hiding this from him.

Since he already yelled at you for not paying attention daily, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right? Despite what you thought, the pills prescribed by the doctor caused a drastic change in you, so that it was immediately apparent that you weren't the same person.

When the next school morning came, your stomach was churning into knots, but somehow your focus seemed heightened, yet forced. Everything and everyone passed by you in slow motion, almost as if you were outside of your body.

As soon as Katsuki saw you, he knew something was wrong. First, you didn't smile, and second, you distanced yourself from him and your friends. What was most critical was that you had not mentioned mushrooms. Just what the hell is going on?

It wasn’t often that you kept things from him, and damned if he didn’t notice all the stares you were getting. To avoid being distracted during school, he waited to address what was wrong with you until after the day was over.

After the bell rang and everyone rushed to their lockers, he approached you. “What the hell is wrong with you!?” He snapped, slamming your locker shut. Your eyes filled with uncertainty as you looked at him, and he noticed that the familiar light that shone in them was gone.

Clenching his jaw, he felt like he was looking at a damn zombie. “What is wrong with you!?” He yelled again, grasping your shoulders, and shaking you. The students passing by with questionable expressions were completely ignored by him.

“Uh K-Kacchan, I don’t think…” Izuku tried to approach but froze when Katsuki glared at him. “Mind your own business, you damn Deku!” You looked over at Izuku, who was now holding his hands up in fear. “I-I'm sorry, Kacchan, but…” He looked at you, frowning at your appearance.

“I…I think something is wrong with Y/n and y-you…you can’t just shake her l-like that…you need to s-show her you care!” Katsuki growled and guided you to stand behind him as he towered over Izuku with a menacing snarl.

“Mind your damn business!” He seized Izuku's uniform, pulling him close as he glared at him. “Got that!?” While still terrified of his childhood friend, Izuku learned when to channel his inner hero, and it was that inner hero who reached up to grab Katsuki's hand.

He narrowed his eyes, his eyebrows slanted as he pulled said hand away from him. “I know…y-your relationship with Y/n is your b-business but…y-you’re not the only one w-who cares about her,” he looked past Katsuki, staring at you with suspicious eyes.

Despite not knowing what was wrong with you, everyone agreed on one thing. You didn't seem like yourself. “I-if you or Y/n ever n-need help, you know we h-have your back,” he said, turning to leave. However, he couldn't help but think about all the possibilities that could lead to such a drastic change in personality.

“Mmm...” He tapped his chin as he walked to his locker, his mind so occupied he barely noticed Tenya and Uraraka. “Hi, Deku!” Uraraka waved cheerfully in greeting. “Ah yes, Midoriya,” Tenya said, raising his hand before he began chopping it through the air.

“I hope you had a successful and educational day! I believe our training exercise was the most intriguing yet!��� he exclaimed, but Izuku did not answer, and he and Uraraka exchanged worried glances. “Uh, Deku?” Uraraka asked, reaching over to touch his shoulder.

“Hm?” Izuku turned his head, looking at her confused. “Heh,” she chuckled, “glad to see you’re there.” Tenya stepped forward. “Is something troubling you, Midoriya?” He questioned. Yes, Izuku had periods of intense thinking, but this was different.

It looked like he was troubled. Although Izuku tried to offer his friends a sympathetic smile, it didn't last, and he knew lying to them would be a waste of time. Even though he wouldn't, sometimes people keep troubles to themselves for good reasons.

The question was, why were you? He sighed, looking at them both. “T-there's something wrong with Y-Y/n,” he said. “Oh, you guys noticed it too?” The group turned to see Eijirou and beside him Tsuyu. “Heh, I thought it was just me for a second,” the redhead confessed, rubbing his neck.

Tsuyu nodded, “Ribbit, it's just strange how Y/n's been acting today,” she noted with a hand on her chest. “I hope whatever’s wrong with her isn’t because she had a fight with Bakugou, either way...” she turned to look at Katsuki who was gathering your things. “I hope they’re okay.”

Eijirou nodded. “Me too, but what do you think is wrong?” he asked frowning. “Mm…I don’t know but I’m sure we’ll find out. Can't lose hope, right?” Uraraka offered encouraging words while Izuku reached for his phone. “Hm?” Tenya noticed this and leaned over Izuku’s shoulder.

“Midoriya, do you have anything to share?” Izuku remained silent, his fingers tapping along the phone's screen. After a few seconds, he took a deep breath and looked up at everyone. “Do you guys think…maybe there's something else at play here?” as expected, he was met with puzzled expressions.

Tenya tapped his chin a few times before asking, “Would you please elaborate, Midoriya?” Katsuki grumbled as he continued to pull you along. In addition to his backpack, yours was hanging from his opposite shoulder as the two of you made your way to the Height’s Alliance buildings.

Izuku's words continued to echo in his head, causing him to scowl. ‘I-if you or Y/n ever n-need help…we h-have your back.’ Damn, it made him angry. That damn Deku is always sticking his nose in other people’s business. Right now, you were his top priority, and he would teach Deku a lesson later. 

It was unclear to you why Katsuki was angry or why he seemed hurried earlier. You remained silent and allowed him to pull you to the shared dormitory building's front door. However, he stopped short and turned to look at you.

“Sit down,” he ordered, and after staring at him for a minute, you complied. As he slid off his and your bookbags to place them on the step, he sighed and leaned back, taking a deep breath. The truth is, he didn't want to start asking you questions or expressing his opinions until he knew for sure what was wrong. 

“Hey,” he said, you hummed in response and noticed that he looked a bit worried almost as if he were hesitant to speak. The twist in his stomach caused him to feel uneasy. It was hard for him to share his emotions, even with you.

Still, he would be lying if he said he wasn't concerned about your relationship and your state of being. He took a deep breath. “Are you tired of us? Because you haven't been yourself today…even the extras noticed it!” You blinked a few times before shrugging. “Everything is…fine,” you replied despite feeling worried.

You didn't want anyone, not even Katsuki, to know you were taking medication for ADHD. Imagine his disappointment if you did. So maybe it was best to keep it a secret for now, but apparently, it was close to being revealed. Has this medication really made a difference in you?

You certainly didn't feel like yourself if you're being honest. Katsuki grunted and grabbed your uniform tie, pulling you toward him. His eyes locked on yours as he snarled at you. “Don’t lie to me, damn it!” He almost felt relieved when he saw your eyes widen, but it was short-lived because you immediately turned away.

“Sorry,” you said, and Katsuki loosened his grip on your tie and looked away. “Tch…” he said. Yawning, you rubbed your eyes. “I’m sleepy,” he stiffened. “What the hell do you mean you’re sleepy?!” Again, he pulled you close, his hand shaking as it tightened around your tie.

“Mmm…” you said before laying your head on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen again. “What the hell?” he murmured but remained still as you closed your eyes. Once he heard your soft snores, he wondered how you could be this sleepy at this time.

He glanced at your backpack before slowly reaching for it. Taking care not to awaken you, he unzipped it without making any sudden movements. Apart from notebooks and pencil pouches, he couldn't find anything else in it. “Damn it!” he growled and decided to check the front pouch of your backpack instead.

“Huh?” He pulled out a small orange container filled with white pills that looked suspicious. As he knitted his eyebrows, he felt his heart race and his stomach twist from anger. “There’s no damn way she…” He turned the pill bottle in his hand, reading the label which only added to his anger.

Clenching his teeth, he tightened his grip around the bottle so hard that cracks started to appear. Despite you being asleep, on his shoulder no less, he glared at you. He felt betrayed, why hadn't you told him you were taking pills? Is there a reason why you kept this from him?

After he scraped his teeth together, he tried to take a deep breath to calm himself. He knew deep down that he couldn't figure out this explanation if he was angry at you. Instead, he shoved the pill container into his pocket and shook his shoulder, waking you up. “Hm?” You fluttered your eyes open.

“W-what…I'm sleepy,” you said. “Yeah, yeah, but dumbass you can’t-” he stopped himself and shook his head. “You…can’t sleep out here, come on…I’ll carry you inside if I have to,” before you could even protest, he stood up and roughly scooped you into his arms.

“H-hey!” You exclaimed, your voice still sleepy and raspy. “Shut it!” He shouted as he walked inside, grumbling. Your backpacks that were left outside stayed there. “You're too sleepy to do anything about it anyway,” he said, and while he wasn't wrong, you couldn't help but feel offended.

“Hm…” you pouted, remaining silent, resting your head on his shoulder, and once again falling asleep. After hearing your snores, Katsuki laid you down gently on the bed as soon as he reached your room. Then he cupped your cheek and brushed a few strands of hair away from your face.

He looked at you with a sad but concerned expression that would make anyone else stop and stare in disbelief. Despite his lack of caring nature, he was different when it came to you. He didn't want you to be hurt, and he didn't want you on medication either.

Yet, he didn't know why you were on medication! Yes, the damn bottle said, 'Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder', but so what!? Did that justify you not being yourself? Curling his free hand into a fist, he growled softly.

To begin with, there was nothing wrong with you, and even if there was, there was something wrong with every damn extra on the planet. Pulling his hand away from your cheek, he swallowed hard and leaned down. “Damn…dumbass…” he muttered before kissing your lips gently and leaving your room.

Once again, he clenched the bottle of medication as he stomped down the hallway. As if he were about to embark on a dangerous mission, his eyes narrowed, and his body stiffened. Moving toward the bathroom, he shoved Eijirou aside who was currently waiting for said bathroom to be available.

“Open the damn door!” Katsuki demanded, slamming his fist against it. “Whoa there Bakugou, what’s the rush?” Eijirou asked, chuckling nervously before offering his friend a smile. Katsuki growled and turned to him. “Mind your own damn business!” He snapped before turning back to the bathroom door.

“I said hurry the hell up!” He growled again, banging rapidly on the door while Eijirou looked on in a state of confusion. “Hey!” He grabbed the blond's wrist and hardened his skin. It was impossible to predict what Katsuki would do or why he was so angry. Alternatively, maybe it had to do with you.

After all, your boyfriend must know what's wrong with you, right? Eijirou frowned and locked eyes with Katsuki but continued to hold his wrist tightly. “Is Y/n okay?” He was caught off guard by the redhead's question. “Huh?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Just why the hell are you asking that!?” He demanded, stepping forward and glaring at Eijirou. Did you tell a damn extra something before him!? His feelings were difficult to describe, but he was distracted when Izuku's head poked out of the bathroom door.

“Tch, of course, it was you, damn Deku. Move it!” he snapped, turning around, and grabbing Izuku by the collar of his shirt. “Ah, w-wait Kacchan!” Katsuki threw him to the floor and walked into the bathroom without closing the door.

The bottle of medication was still in his opposite hand, and he tussled the contents inside one last time. When Izuku and Eijirou heard the clinking noise, they looked at each other before peeking inside the bathroom.

“Uh heh…” Eijirou spoke first, “Bakugou, w-what have you got there?” He asked, knowing Katsuki would react in anger. “None of your business!” He snapped before twisting off the cap. “Hm?” Izuku’s eyes widened as Katsuki held it above the toilet with the intention of emptying it.

“W-wait!” He called, holding his hand out toward his childhood friend who glared at him in return. “What!?” He snapped, “Damn Deku…” he added. Despite being a little nervous, Izuku walked into the bathroom, followed by Eijirou.

“I-is that m-medication?” he asked, stumbling backward when Katsuki snapped, “So what if it is!?” Eijirou, being the natural protector he is, stepped between Izuku and Katsuki. “Hey, heh…let’s all take a breather, yeah?” He suggested waiting a few seconds before speaking again.

“Why do you have medication?” His eyes were fixed on Katsuki, who gritted his teeth in response but seemed a little less irritable with Eijirou and crossed his arms, still holding the bottle in question. “Tch…” he snarled, feeling anger but then the image of you popped into his head.

He preferred to keep what happened and your relationship between the two of you, then again everyone noticed the sudden change in you, and more than likely, those damn extras thought he was responsible for your drastic behavior change.

He knew he didn't have to prove anything to anyone, except that he would be the number one hero one day, but a small part of him knew that asking for help from…others, at least when it came to you, might be best. So, with that in mind, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I found them in Y/n’s backpack, alright!?” He growled, ignoring Izuku and Eijirou as they paused and looked at each other. Izuku clenched his fists and frowned. “So…t-that’s why she’s been acting…l-like…” How could he even describe how you acted?

Eijirou mirrored Izuku's expression. He felt angry, sad, concerned…and…and…“Why would she be on medication!?” Izuku was caught off guard by his sudden exclamation, while Katsuki responded, “How the hell should I know?” He uncrossed his arms and looked away from the two.

“She didn’t tell me anything, the dumbass just…started acting like a damn zombie,” he lifted the opened bottle of medication to his face, scanning the label again. “Because of this stupid…medication,” he still didn’t understand why you didn’t tell him.

Nonetheless, at least he could find peace in the fact you hadn't told anyone else you decided to take medication or at least that's what he could gather from Izuku and Eijirou's cluelessness. Oh, and the fact that they all had the same question.

Why were you taking medication? “W-well…Y/n does act…” Izuku flinched when Katsuki glared at him, knowing that it wasn't wise to speak ill of you, but he looked to Eijirou as if begging for advice. “Mm,” the redhead nodded, almost as if reading the other’s mind and looked at Katsuki.

“I think Midoriya means that Y/n acts weird,” he said, looking away. “But…that shouldn’t have mattered to her, and it doesn’t matter to us because we accept Y/n for who she is!” He exclaimed, raising his fist in the air and Izuku nodded in agreement.

After a few seconds, Eijirou frowned and lowered his hand to his side. Looking down, he knitted his eyebrows. “But maybe she doesn’t accept herself?” he suggested before looking at Katsuki who scowled back. “What the hell is that supposed to mean!?” He asked, stepping towards Eijirou who hardened his skin.

“Easy there,” he replied, “I just meant that Y/n may have taken medication because she thought something was wrong with the way she acted before.” He looked at Izuku, “Sometimes people do things to better themselves when it’s actually harmful, right?” Izuku nodded again.

“M-maybe there is another way we c-can help Y/n,” he tentatively suggested. “Yeah!” Eijirou announced, approaching Katsuki. “In the meantime, I don’t think throwing away her medication is a good idea, but…” He laid a hand on Katsuki's shoulder with a determined look.

“We’ll do whatever we can to help Y/n, we have your back Bakubro,” he said with a smile. Katsuki clenched his teeth tightly. Damn it, he didn't want to accept help. He wanted to convince you on his own that you didn't need these damn pills, but…perhaps if things didn't go well between you, he would appreciate some support.

He took a deep breath and said, “Fine,” as he lowered the bottle. “But your dumbasses better not do anything before I talk to Y/n, got that!?” He snapped, startling them both. “Heh, uh right…” Eijirou said, holding his hands up while Izuku nodded.

Putting the cap back on the medication, he stomped out of the bathroom. He already knew that you were in for a surprise tomorrow because the two of you wouldn’t leave your room until you agreed to stop taking these pills.

“Mm,” you flutter your eyes open as you turn over in bed. The throbbing in your head made you groan lightly. Pressing your hand against your forehead, you sat up. “Tch, have a damn headache?” In a panic, you almost fell out of bed and snapped your head toward where the voice came from. 

When you realized it was Katsuki sitting on a chair across from your bed with his arms crossed, your fear was replaced with a sense of calm. “Oh hey!” You replied, waving at him enthusiastically, and to your surprise, he smiled.

He was relieved to see you being yourself again, even though he wasn't a sappy romantic. “Finally, you're yourself again, huh?” He said, arching his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” You asked, tilting your head to one side. Your response only angered him.

Standing up from the chair, he screamed, “What the hell do you mean what do I mean?!” he glared at you. “Is your memory affected by those damn pills too?” he questioned. “W-what!?” You replied, flushed with embarrassment, and feeling your heart sink in your chest.

You felt guilty, but in addition, there was a hint of betrayal. “How do you know about that!?” You responded frantically. He glared at you for a few seconds before reaching into his pocket and pulling out your bottle of medication. Your eyes widened and you got up from your bed.

“How did you get that?!” You demanded, dancing on your toes and while it would be an amusing display for some, Katsuki narrowed his eyes. “You were so out of it yesterday that you fell asleep on the front step of the dorm dumbass…” He explained, walking over to you, and leaning down to your height.

“After that, I looked through your bookbag, everyone knows you weren't acting like yourself, and now I know why, these stupid pills some damn extra convinced you to take,” he said, shaking the bottle. Before you could say anything in your defense, he clasped a hand over your mouth.

“Mm!?” While you tried to lick his palm to make him pull away, he wasn't so easily fooled. “Just why the hell didn’t you tell me?! Huh?! You trying to keep secrets from me!?” He demanded, staring at you so intensely that the room itself was filled with thick tension.

As you shook your head frantically, his hand fell from your mouth. “It’s not like that!” You shouted, rapidly waving your arms, while Katsuki continued to glare at you. Shrugging, you sighed dramatically.

“The way I acted in general and the way I talked about cute mushrooms seemed to annoy you,” his face fell at your confession. “Yeah, I know you said you accepted me, and it wasn't a problem, but…” you hissed and drew your bottom lip into your mouth.

“Ah!” you shouted after a minute. “Maybe I just wanted to see what it would be like to be…” You tilted your head from side to side. “You know…” you stated, shrugging, and looking away from him while swaying back and forth on your toes.

He grabbed your wrist and yanked you forward making you cry out. “If you’re going to say ‘normal’ then you’re a bigger dumbass than I thought!” He snapped. “Who the hell cares if you’re normal or not!? You don’t need these damn pills!” he said, shaking the bottle again.

“And the fact you kept it secret from me confirms that,” he added, making you pout. “But…they might help with-” He growled. “What did I just say!?” He violently bared his teeth. “The only thing they helped you with was becoming a zombie, and…” he glanced away.

He didn't want to admit what Izuku and Eijirou said, but it seemed that you wouldn't listen to him alone, so maybe he should mention it. He sighed. “Look,” he said releasing your wrist. “That…damn Deku and spikey-haired idiot noticed the way you acted yesterday, and they didn't like it, nobody did!”

He threw the bottle of pills to the floor. He'd stomp on them if he could, but that wouldn't help things now. He needed to convince you that you didn't need them first. “So, if you thought taking these damn pills would make extras accept you, that's not happening,” he said, crossing his arms.

“They already accept you for who you are dumbass a-and…” He grumbled, in disbelief that he was about to say this. “It's…hard to get support like that, okay!?” He took a breath and held his hand out to you. In response, you tilted your head and looked at it as though you were unfamiliar with it.

“So…damn it, you’re fine…and if you need any help I…we’ll do everything we can, just don’t take that damn medication anymore, and…” he noticed you were still staring at his hand. “Mm…” you looked at him, thinking over his words.

In a way, your mind felt clearer, and your normal thoughts flowed freely. “Heh,” you smiled even as he impatiently flexed his fingers and demanded, “Take my hand already!” Instead of doing as he requested, you jumped on him. His body stiffened in response, and he leaned back, trying to compensate for your sudden action.

Wrapping your arms around him, you laughed lightly but heard him growl. “Get off!” he yelled. “We’re going to be late for school, dumbass,” luckily his conversation with you wasn't as long as he anticipated. You pouted, “I don’t want to go to school.”

Katsuki frowned before carrying you to the bed. “Get dressed!” He said as you released your hold on him and plopped down on said bed. That pout still decorated your lips, but he remained unphased and crossed his arms.

Looking at you like a parent would look at their misbehaving child. You blinked and brought your finger up to your mouth. “Can we at least count how many mushrooms we see on our way to school!?” Your hands folded together as though you were begging him.

His eyebrows twitched. “Again, with the mushrooms?!” He snapped, before realizing his mistake. He slumped his shoulders and sighed. When he looked at you, he noted that the familiar light in your eyes was back, and he hoped it would last.

“F-fine, we can…count stupid mushrooms…” he muttered, and before he could react, you wrapped your arms around him again. “Yay! I love mushrooms, they are so cute!” You replied, squeezing him tightly, and although anger flashed across his face, it faded after a few seconds.

Instead, he smiled and slowly embraced you. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. Even though it seemed forced, he was glad you two had reached a compromise. And at least you were yourself, and he'd make damn sure nothing ever changed you again.

[daiki1k]

ERROR

ERROR. ERROR. STAGE CONTROLS HAVE BEEN SHUT DOWN.

alarms scream into the halls, main lights flickering as security systems are forcibly shut down.

damn it.

originally, Daiki planned on shutting the entire security system down herself. that’s what she’s been working on. ever since she met Tina, that was her goal. to get them out.

she even went as far as to contact human rebels, secretly planning an escape to get the two out.

but that careful planning didn’t matter, this was an opportunity that she couldn’t pass up. after this, security would be so tight that it would make it impossible.

hence, the fast actions taken by the brunette.

Daiki runs through the halls, sneaking past alerted eyes as she opens the door to Tina’s room.

damn it. it’s been so long since they’d seen eachother. if only they could’ve found eachother again in a more calmer situation.

void-isc eyes widen as she enters the room, feet moving towards the worried Tina.

“we need to go. now.”

“darling? what’s going on?” despite the confusion, Tina knew better than to stay still. she immediately follows Daiki into the halls once again.

a part of her knew what was happening anyway, at least the important part: they’re escaping.

a scarred and cold hand carefully grips onto her much softer hand. even during such a frantic moment, Daiki helped calm her nerves.

those beautifully green eyes of hers get to work observing and watching Daiki’s blind spots. the taller of the two hacking into the systems further, opening paths for them as they continued closer to their shared goal.

there were. . four, no, three more stops they had to get through before they would be free - small group of human rebels already waiting to take them to safety.

that is, until a long shot rings through the hallways.

“DAIKI-!” Tina gasps, eyebrows furrowing at the attacker - a lonesome guard. just one?

before she could go to protect her injured lover, Daiki herself sprints forward and yanks the gun away. bashing the metal against the guards helmet until crimson spills out of the crushed skull, Daiki huffs.

“I’m okay, let’s keep going.”

“But you-“

“we don’t have time, please.” smiling, the brunette approaches the frantic woman, giving her a small peck on soft lips before getting back to work implementing codes that would allow them to bypass the door’s security.

it was fine, she had gone through worse. bones broken while she was awake to feel it, nails ripped off, skin peeled back, every horrific injury. she was quite literally trained to withstand these injuries.

“almost there, okay?” voice is tired, almost breathless as fingers tap against the screen of the last door’s screen pad.

relief washes through the both of them as the door opens, small cheers heard as they look down.

it was a high jump.

a group of three are seen at the bottom, a particularly well built man getting ready to catch them when they jumped down.

this was the easiest way out. a storage port.

“here, they’re friends - jump, okay? they’ll catch you.” Daiki grins happily, eyes shining at their newfound freedom.

there’s a few moments of hesitation before Tina jumps down - thankfully caught just fine.

good. she’s safe.

Daiki takes a deep breath, it was her turn -

BANG.

blood splatters down, drop landing on Tina’s face as eyes widen in horror. a clean shot through Daiki’s torso.

legs falter, knees bucking as hands try to hold onto the doorframe.

no. no no no no. they were so close-!

“GET OUT OF HERE, NOW!” a final order before both of them are dragged away in different directions.

fuck. I’m still holding that shitty gun. I look like a threat- at least Tina .. she’s safe.

something presses against Daiki’s neck, excruciating pain flaring as electricity is shocked into her system. still, it’s only enough to contain her for a moment.

a moment is all that’s needed for guards to restrain her before beating her unconscious, hell if they cared whether or not she lived.

Tina, survive. Even if it’s without me.

I don’t want to, not without you. please. . !

@season39

[asolverssolution]

Chapter 5: Human

I shake my head as I power on.  I look around tiredly as my eyes activate. The old room reminds me of what I imagined a old cabin would look like. Old log walls, wood floor, a clearly frail window looking out into the day. The room was tidy, with a wardrobe, bed, and desk. As I sit up, I slowly remember everything that happened. I think about it for a few moments before standing. As I approach the door, I notice a few clothes in the wardrobe through the crack of it's two doors. I go to it and open the doors, revealing a lot of clothes. A lot of it I would wear, I think to myself, noting the darker colors mixed with blues and pinks.

I hear the door open behind me and I turn to be met face to face with Doll. "Hello Doll." I greet, giving a small wave. A blush, something I wasn't even sure Doll could do, appeared on her and she waved. "How was your rest?" She asks. "It was good. Where are we?" I ask. "You are in a Drone Resistance hideout." She states, putting a hand on her hip. I nod softly at the information, processing it. "Would you like to take a look around?" She asks, stepping out of the way of the door. "Yes, thank you." I answer, walking past her and into the adjacent room. I quickly notice aside from the room I awoke in, there is only one other room. I look around the main area. This doesn't look made for a human, with no kitchen in sight. A lack of use in the room in general is odd. Plenty of furniture and even a TV with a player is at the far wall, with couch for two people to watch something.

Honestly, this would be a place I would live in, I think to myself. "How do you like it?" Doll asks, stepping behind me. "I love it. Very comfortable living for a Drone." I answer, looking toward her. "That is good to hear." She says with a smile. "So- For a hideout, there is a great lack of people." I note. She seems very quick to respond. "It is made for those who are being hunted. Just until the heat dies down." She responds. I nod softly, understanding the logic. Soldiers would make this not exactly the best place to hide someone. My thoughts are broken when a human walks in. Wait- WHAT!?, my mind screeches.

I look in disbelief as they look at me. "Oh, Ava, meet Tessa. They have been helping me-" Doll stops as I hug the human tightly. Tessa instantly hugs me back. "Tessa, is that you!?" I squeal and Tessa laughs. "Of course it's me!" She exclaims, happiness all in her voice. Doll steps forward and eyes Tessa, who puts their hands up and backs away when I let go.

"Tessa was trying to find her old Drone friends, you included, and help take down the Imperium. When I said my- goals- it was agreed to help each other." Doll states. "Yeah, we're totally besties now." Tessa jokes, which causes Doll to do a light hearted eye roll. "I thought all humans died on Earth? And those who didn't died from the core collapse?" I question. "Not all of us. I was in a protected bunker when it occurred. So, when I figured out what happened, I quickly made a suit that could protect me from the cold environment and voila, here I am." Tessa explains, patting my head. Doll taps her foot and Tessa takes her hand off of me.  "It's good to see you alive, Tessa." I say with a smile. "And it is good to see you too, Ava." Tessa says, nodding. "More food I scrounged up is in your room." Doll says, pointing to the opposite room. Tessa gives a nod and heads to her room, giving me one last wave before going inside. Doll grabs my hand and leads me to the couch. I sit down and she begins messing with the TV. 

"So how long will I be here?" I ask as she powers it on. "Uncertain," she begins, not facing me, "the Imperium could look for you a few days or months."

I sigh and nod to myself. With Cyn, it could be years, I think to myself. Doll walks back to the couch and sits beside me. As the player loads, Doll looks at me for a long moment before looking back at the TV. I instantly get excited when the title appears. "Akame Ga Life!? I love this anime! It's about how the Day Raider's stop a terrorist cell from rising up!" I state excitedly. Doll giggles  a small bit. "Then it is lucky we had it." Doll states.

○w○ A Few Hours Later ○w○

I look at Doll and realize she is asleep on my shoulder with an arm grabbing my opposite hip. I feel my blush a bit as she gets closer, basically on my lap as she sleeps. As I think of a way to push her off gently, a hand grabs her head and pushes it off me. I look behind me and see Tessa slowly prying Doll off of me. After a moment or two, Tessa groans and stops, as Doll slowly goes back to latching onto me. "She is too stubborn, even in her sleep." Tessa grumbles. I giggle quietly. "How have you been, Ava?" Tessa asks, sitting on the arm of the couch. "Eh, it's- Complicated." I answer. She nods, softly combing through my hair with her fingers. "I would bet. Have you seen any of the others?" She asks. "N, V, and J are all working for Cyn. Where Cyn is- I don't know." I state quietly. "I heard about Cyn. Leads that Imperium right?" Tessa asks. I nod and she sighs. "I know she's held up in the Imperial Capital of Terrum." I add on. "That's- Good news, actually." Tessa states. "Good news?" I question. Tessa repositions to look toward me, her legs resting on my leg.

"I have a USB that could shut off Cyn. I just need to make it there." Tessa says, holding up a small USB drive. "And no one told you she was there?" I ask. "I haven't told anyone. Was afraid of Imperium spies." Tessa retorts. I nod softly, understanding. "Now that I know, we could end all this discord." Tessa says with a victorious voice. I hesitate to agree. Even now, could I stand up to Cyn, my system questions itself. Tessa notices and leans. "Do you not want to shut down Cyn?" Tessa asks. I swear I hear excitement in her voice, but I think I am misreading her tone. "I- Don't know. It's complicated." I mutter. Tessa nods. "I'll bring it up to Doll. If she agrees, will you at least join us?" Tessa asks. I think for a moment.

She is not my Cyn, my thoughts conclude.

I nod after a bit of hesitation which Tessa quietly cheers to. "Great!" She whisper-yells. I chuckle. At least Tessa kept her optimism, I think to myself. "I'll get things prepared. For now though- Your other shoulder looks comfy." Tessa says, laying her head down on my shoulder and cuddling up to my other side. I blush as my lesbian systems realize I have two women cuddled up to me on my lap. I feel myself overheat a bit as I realize I'm gonna be stuck here awhile.

How can I be so lucky and so unlucky at the same time, Robo-Jesus, I think to myself. Please Reblog! Previous Chapter Tessa Art Other Platforms Spotify YouTube Wattpad Archive Our Own

[simphellscape]

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 10TH, 2020 - 2:02PM // SATURDAY, DECEMBER 12TH, 2020 - 5:24PM // next | tw: cursing, horny bird (but not really smut or nothin don’t get too excited)

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 12TH, 2020 - 5:24PM

It’s a pretty slow day for Keigo, oddly enough. Even though he’s working, it’s a rare time where he’s not having to rush from one side of the city to the next. It’s also a rare time where his bosses aren’t hounding him for information regarding his new “business arrangement”. The reprieve is nice, but the downtime is mind numbingly boring. He reminds himself that he should enjoy this, because the likelihood of this happening again anytime soon is very slim.

“I’m going to the store, Kei. Your constant pleas for chicken nuggets have finally pushed me over the edge.”

His heart hammers in his chest at the sound of your voice echoing through his head. In favor of texting, Keigo has taken to sending you a feather every day so that you can speak to him directly. When he’s working, it’s not very often that he can respond, anyhow. That, and he selfishly just wants to hear you instead of stare at a screen. He didn’t tell you that part. You were quick to send him voice snippets as soon as you two adopted this mode of communication. Little encouragements, quick jokes, anecdotes, updates, reminders. He usually hears from you a couple of times a day. It drives him mad for just a second every time he hears your voice, so soft and inviting, in his brain. He considers stopping by your apartment to see you during his patrol, since it was clearly going to be an easy day. Maybe he’ll even bring you a present. A trinket. A snack. A diamond ring. Who knows? Certainly not him.

His phone chirps in his pocket. When he fishes it out, he sees that it’s an email from the HPSC executive handling your case. The title line reads: RE: Trick Shot

Keigo has been exchanging occasional emails with her since the meeting with her three days ago. He’d worked out a vague schedule with her, outlining training, fittings, interviews, and the like. The goal was to have you out on the streets at the end of March; three months from now. It’s a good thing that you just had your last day at the tattoo shop, because the two of you are going to be incredibly busy until then by the looks of it.

He taps on the notification and reads the message.

Hawks,

I apologize for the wait, but I was able to find Trick Shot’s case file. Everything you need is attached.

If you have any further questions, don’t hesitate to get in touch.

Thanks,

Kana Enomoto

True to her word, Keigo sees the file at the bottom: Trick_Shot.zip. The reason he asked for your case file is bi-fold: one, he knows that there will be information and footage that will be beneficial in training you, and two, he is desperately curious and impatient. The idea of analyzing your performance in battle has intrigued him since learning about your stint as a hero. This way, he doesn’t have to waste any extra time. He shoves his phone back into his pocket, favoring his computer for such a task. He jets back to his agency.

He lands on the balcony connected to his office with a thump and saunters through the glass doors. The space is much like his penthouse: lacking sentiment and personality. He doesn’t do this consciously. In fact, he doesn’t really notice. He just didn’t grow up like that.

He plops down in his plushy office chair and turns on his double monitors. He quickly punches in his password and pulls up his email. The message Kana sent is already in the process of being buried by other, less important ones, but he hones in.

In your file, much like any other hero file, there’s an assortment of interviews, news clips, assessments, and contracts. He immediately notices that your file is more well-stocked than many of the others he’s seen. There are so many files here that he almost feels overwhelmed. He knows that there’s probably a more efficient way of doing this, but he decides that the easiest way to start is to find items that interest him, either personally or professionally. If he thinks of anything he desperately needs to see, he can cue them up later.

As he begins to peruse the videos there, one catches his eye immediately: Trick_Shot_Perf_Eval_2016.mov.

A performance evaluation is something that hero agencies sometimes like to do when a hero demonstrates a significant change, good or bad. They usually set this up with the HPSC. After a 230 rank jump in 2016, Keigo isn’t surprised one bit to see that you were pulled for one. He clicks on the video, and it opens to you standing in an expansive outdoor arena. You look remarkably similar, but there are a few noticeable differences. You’re clearly younger. Your nose is slightly wider. Your cheekbones are a centimeter lower. Your chest isn’t as filled out.

He mentally slaps himself at that last thought. Focus, Keigo, he scolds himself.

“State your hero name, please.”

“Trick Shot.”

Your voice is more different here than any of the rest of you is. It’s higher pitched, by quite a lot.

“We’re going to commence the assessment now. Act as if this is a real scenario. Begin.”

Your stance immediately widens, and you visibly become more focused and alert. Your hands hover above your utility belt. Your eyes scan the room, deadly serious. The camera angle changes to a wider shot, encompassing the entire training arena. A foam projectile is hurled in your direction from your right. Your head jerks in its direction in half a second, right hand employing one of your throwing knives. You toss it with ease, though the force of your throw pins the projectile to the wall from whence it came, about 30 yards away. Impressive. You use this opportunity to crouch, both anticipating the height at which the projectiles are being thrown and the need to load your gun. You’re able to prepare your weapon without even looking at it, opting to instead continue to scan the room.

“I need help!”

Your head snaps in the direction of the sound and you spot a civilian. He’s feigning injury for the purpose of the scenario. It’s obviously some guy from the commission, because he’s a terrible actor. You sprint toward him, projectiles flying your direction. Instead of attacking them, you’re able to maneuver around them with ease. You duck, weave, even flip over every obstacle in your path. When you’re three quarters of the way to the civilian, a projectile is threatening to drop directly over him. You leap towards it, left leg extended. You swipe it to the side, causing it to land on the ground 10 yards away. You land in a controlled crouch, directly beside the civilian.

“Hi there, I’m Trick Shot. Are you injured?”

A projectile is thrown to your back. Without breaking eye contact with the civilian, you turn your body to aim your gun towards it, shooting directly through the center. The impact crumbles the foam.

“My leg hurts!”

You do a quick scan of his leg and begin to operate under the assumption that he’s unable to walk.

“Everything is gonna be just fine. I’m gonna help you get out of harm’s way. A medic will check you over as soon as possible. Sound good?”

You wait for a nod from the civilian and begin hoisting him over your shoulder. Smart, since he’s taller than you. Keigo worries that you’ll struggle to pick him up, but just like everything else in this task, you barely even break a sweat. You swiftly and safely carry the man to the right of the arena, gently placing him back down on the ground. An alarm sounds, signifying the end of the first portion of your exam.

“You’ve completed the rescue section. Reset for combat.”

You make your way back to your mark, shaking your limbs out in preparation. As you reach your mark, you remain totally neutral.

“The combat section is about to commence. Act as if this is a real scenario. Begin.”

Once again, you drop to an offensive stance. Hands hovering over your utility belt. Serious eyes scanning.

Keigo is aware that this section of the test is at the end for a reason. It’s the most difficult part, and it has the most opportunity to have points deducted. The quirk that is displayed by the ‘villain’ is randomized, so you have to be prepared for anything. He’s trying to maintain an analytic perspective of the video, but he can’t help but silently root for you.

Another commission officer emerges to your left, clad in bulletproof gear. You hear him enter and whirl towards him, weapon aimed with intent.

“Stand down. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you make me.”

The stern nature of your tone is foreign to Keigo. He’s never heard you sound this commanding, this threatening. He feels redness creep across his face, and the familiar, but unexpected tingling of arousal. While Keigo is emotionally invested in protecting you, he can’t lie that women who can kick his ass excite him in the worst way. It’s even more exciting when it’s you. He blinks hard, willing himself to focus for a few more minutes.

Your opponent wastes no time on chatter and immediately attacks. He digs a gloved hand into the turf and launches a large patch in your direction. You spring several feet in the air, knees bent and gun drawn. As you descend, the patch of earth is dangerously close to your feet. Instead of it clipping you, as Keigo was expecting, you use it to propel yourself toward the enemy. Before he can even react, you’ve arched over his head. As you prepare yourself to land behind him, you unload two tranquilizer darts into his back. The alarm sounds once again. The exam is completed.

Keigo quickly pauses the video before the results section to check the timestamp. The entire exam took you five and a half minutes to complete, give or take. This is the first time that he’s seen anyone complete an evaluation of this caliber in less than eight. He’s shocked. He’s in awe.

He’s even more turned on.

He can deal with that problem later.

He presses play on the video again, eager to see the breakdown of the results. The grassy arena cuts to a black screen, white text outlining your performance.

Overall grade: 98/100

Rescue Section: 48/50

Combat Section: 50/50

Recommended Action: Further supplementation to suit/gear. Pair with rescue hero.

Damn right. Keigo knew that you were an excellent hero. If it wasn’t evident by your impressive rise in ranks all those years ago, then it was clearly evident now. He double checked the year and did some mental math. He’s even more fascinated when he realizes that you were freshly nineteen at the time of this test. You were ruthless. You were focused. You were determined. Same as you are today.

He considers the advice that the commission gave at the end of the video. Diversifying your arsenal was easy. He’d been thinking of creative and useful tools to give you already. You weren’t necessarily bad at the rescue portion. He imagines that you were deducted points off for overall speed. You could also only really attend to one person at a time in a situation like that. He could give you extra tools to make this easier, like some sort of anti-gravity tech or something.

Or, you could just work with him.

It makes a lot of sense, outside of the host of personal reasons Keigo has for wanting to partner with you. He has an excellent track record with citizen recovery. The nature of his quirk allows him to rescue multiple people at once with great ease and dexterity. You two also have an established chemistry, which is beneficial in a hero partnership. You have grown to be able to read each other well, from vocal cues to body language. It’s so eerie that Keigo has actually considered that you two share a few brain cells. This union is almost perfect. He just has to overcome the mountainous hurdle that is his romantic feelings toward you. That, and he has to resolve his new task of infiltrating a powerful, destructive organization of evil-doers. No big deal.

“Kei, hope you’re successfully kicking villain ass today. By the way, the store only had vegan nuggets, so I went home empty-handed. Sorry ‘bout your luck.”

As your voice bounces off the walls of his skull, his heart bounces off the walls of his rib cage. A giddy smile eases across his face, so wide that his cheeks hurt. Knowing that you’re thinking about him and cheering him on has him reeling. He imagines you’re lazing on your couch, wearing your comfiest clothes, holding his ruby feather to your mesmerizing lips. Whispering into it, soft breaths puffing against the down.

Or maybe, since you’re alone, you’ve ditched your sweatpants. Sprawled across the couch in a big t-shirt and panties.

Or maybe, you’ve ditched clothes entirely, trusting in the safety of your enclosed apartment to rid yourself of that pesky cloth imprisonment.

Or maybe, you’re still just fucking horny, Keigo thinks to himself. He sighs and drops his head in his hands. As he rubs his eyes, he tries to imagine something else. Cartoons. Paperwork. Kombucha. Something.

He opens his eyes only to meet with the persistent bulge in his pants. He sighs. He reminds himself that he’ll likely have some time to himself tonight after he’s off.

This whole ‘getting over his feelings for you’ thing might be more challenging than he thought.

His phone chimes. He lifts his hips to retrieve it from his back pocket. Of course, it’s you. It must be something that requires a response, otherwise you’d use his feather.

yo dude the weirdest thing just happened!! i accidentally wandered into the liquor store otw home and somehow this really delicious looking strawberry vodka ended up in my hands. i had no choice kei, i had to buy it. you should probably maybe definitely come by tonight after patrol to have some with me

Of course, he probably, maybe, definitely will go. If there’s two things he loves in the world, it’s you and the occasional boozefest.

that’s so weird!! wouldn’t want to let it go bad. i guess i’ll come over and drink if ur gonna twist my arm

Keigo’s plans for ‘self care’ often end up being interrupted. Normally, he would be pissed at the intrusion. But it’s you. His dick can wait.

His phone chimes again.

vodka doesn’t go bad, birdbrain

You’re the only one who can get away with calling him that. Then again, you could probably call him anything and he’d answer to it.

His eyes flick up to the corner of his touchscreen to check the time: 5:55pm. He’ll be off in an hour. He’ll fly to his penthouse for a quick shower. Then, he’ll be able to spend the rest of the evening with you. He hums at the thought.

shhh >:( i’ll be there at like 7:30 or smth. lmk if you need anything before then :)

Keigo returns his attention to his computer screen after sending his reply. Now that he’s got something to look forward to other than shameless self-indulgence this evening, he seems to be more focused. After scanning the items present in your file once more, he’s drawn to one even more important than the clip he just watched.

Buried amongst the plethora of other things is your career summary, crafted and curated by the HPSC. It’s the most current document in the entire thing, having been edited mere days ago. He usually views this document first when going through any other case file, but the excitement of this being your case file caused it to escape his mind. Just as his mouse hovers over the link, his phone goes off again. It’s a call, which can only mean two things: his villainous new side-piece, or worse, an HPSC rep . He groans, swiping it off of its place on his desk. An unknown number flashes across the display, telling Keigo that it is, in fact, the aforementioned villainous side-piece. He takes a deep breath and answers.

“Yello.”

Keigo always kind of hates it when people answer the phone like that, and perhaps that’s why he does it now for the first time. Even though there’s nothing societally wrong with it, he wants to inject a little bit of asshole-ery into this conversation. Just for himself.

“Meeting at the usual spot tonight at 7. Don’t be late.”

His heart drops. This is worse than the whore-ish plans he had for himself tonight, before you extended the offer to drink with him. Far, far worse. He knows that this call to duty should rise above any other plans he might have for the rest of his day, but since those plans involve you, he can’t bring himself to ditch them. His synapses start firing at a million miles a minute as he speaks.

“No can do. I’ve got a press event after work today.”

“So, I see you’re still whipped for the adoring fans, hero boy.”

“You know what this is about. I have to keep up appearances in order for this to work.”

“If you actually cared about the cause, you wouldn’t even bother.”

“Baby, don’t be so clingy! We can have our little date tomorrow, I promise.”

Keigo has often used this sort of tactic to diffuse situations like this. There are a few reasons for this: it catches the recipient off guard, and it eases tensions, usually. Mainly, he needs to make himself laugh right now, to remain sane.

“I don’t need to keep you around, you know.”

“Oh, but you do,” he replies, all lightheartedness gone, “because I have connections that you never will. Information that you never will. I want to help you, and I will, believe me. But if this is ever going to work for either of us, you need to trust me. I can’t just stop going to press events or people will get suspicious. That’s the last thing we need.”

Static and the sound of shuffling fabric taint the pause that follows Keigo’s borderline threat. Every passing millisecond further convinces him that he’s fucked this up.

“If you don’t make it here by nightfall tomorrow, I’m done covering for your ass.”

With this, the line goes dead. Keigo lets go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as his phone drops into his lap. His now empty hands run through his mane, pulling ribbons of tawny hair with them. The realization that he (hopefully) successfully lied to a man who holds Keigo’s entire life in his hands hits him like a freight train. He is both incredibly proud of and entirely ashamed of his ability to do that.

“Dabi,” he mutters to himself, “what the fuck am I gonna do with you?”

(a/n): and this is back too!! i actually have a bunch of this written out, so expect it! i also have the entire thing plotted out its just the writing part that escapes me lol