#to be completely honest it was every listen through lol

[allseeingharlequin]

Imagine with me for a moment if you would:

Oscar Malevolent

[talaok]

Acting Normal

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Summary: Javi’s been thinking about that night every minute of every day, while you're acting like it never even happened, and if he doesn't do something about it, he's gonna lose his mind.

warnings: smut| fingering, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, javi being a simp, sex in the workplace, (it's not public but there's a possibility of getting caught)

a/n: I already know what to write for part 3, this couple is my new obsession lol

This is a part 2 to this story, but it can be read alone

Javi

This was really important stuff

He was really supposed to be listening

He was paid to listen to it,

that's what he kept repeating himself,

and yet- yet if someone asked him to repeat whatever Carillo was saying, he couldn't have spit out one singular word.

But it wasn't his fault, not really.

You must have been doing it on purpose, there was no way you were doing all that just accidentally.

Your lips were wrapped around the lollipop in a way that left nothing to the imagination- he could feel those lips on him, he knew how soft and sweet they were from kissing them, but around him... oh they would feel even sweeter, he was sure-

"If you're not gonna listen to me then why am I even here?"

It took Javier much too long to realize what Carillo had said

"I'm listening" he stated with enough confidence to fool anyone- except he was talking to one of the few people that could see right through his bullshit.

"I'm surprised you haven't done it yet" the Colonel shook his head, blowing out a cloud of smoke "I thought she would have given in by now"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

Carillo couldn't help but laugh.

"You've been obsessed with her since she first arrived"

Javier hadn't even noticed that his gaze was back on you... or that his colleague had spoken again.

"yeah," Carillo chuckled, patting Javi's back "I'll just talk to Murphy"

And that was that, Carillo was gone, and Peña was left at a desk at the corner of the room, staring at you with the intensity with which a lion watches a gazelle.

He didn't know what the fuck to do.

To be completely honest with himself, he'd made a fucking mess.

He'd always been attracted to you, I mean there's not much of you that any man could find not hot, and sure, he'd spent about a year flirting with you as you rolled your eyes at him... but that's just how he was- he never thought it'd ever actually happen- and now...

Now he was fucked

You seemed so incredibly normal around him, like that night a week ago had been just a perfect dream, while him- fuck he couldn't even look at you without picturing how perfect you looked from between your tighs.

He'd thought he could manage to just do it that one time, to get it out of his system... what a stupid fucking bastard- he'd only made everything ten times worse.

And the worst part was that you didn't seem affected by it, not even a little bit- like now, there you were, looking all concentrated and everything, your brows furrowed, your bare legs crossed, one of them swinging ever so often, and your lips... your lips wrapped around the candy were an image sent straight from heaven.

Fuck- he was half fucking hard just by looking at you.

He needed to do something- now- or he was gonna go fucking crazy.

__ __ __

"can I have a talk with you for a moment?"

He was leaning over your desk, not doing a great job of masking his desire.

You, on the other hand, hadn't even looked up from the paper before you.

"what's up?"

what's up?

He'd made you squirt on your boss' desk for fuck's sake, and you tell him what's up??

"Just something I think you could help me out with, in the evidence room"

"now?" you winced, finally looking at him

"Yeah now"

__ __ __

"so what is it? did they misplace a file again-"

"How are you acting so normal?"

A gasp fled your mouth as you turned around and found him but an inch from you

"Jesus" you breathed "what are you talking about?"

"and who even eats lollipops past the age of five?"

He took a step closer and you took a step back, only for your back to hit the wall.

He'd cornered you.

"what is going on with you?" you hissed, only for him to take another slow step, and place his hand on the wall, right next to your head

"you, that's what's going on with me" his breath was fanning over your mouth, images of last week's night flashing both your minds "I've had the best sex of my life with you, and you're acting like it was just another Tuesday night"

"I-"

"I can still taste you on my tongue, I can still feel you around me, and you look at me like I'm nothing more than a fucking colleague y/n"

"Javier-"

"And then" he chuckled darkly, interrupting you once again "and then you have the nerve to suck on a fucking lollipop right in front me-"

A soft laugh couldn't help but bubble up your throat at that.

"Did that seriously... turn you on?"

"So what if it did?" he purred, his left hand finding your waist and forcing you off the wall and flush against him, against the blatant proof of his arousal.

You gasped, your hands clutching the shirt covering his chest.

"you're worse than a hormonal teenager"

His eyes sparked with malice as he bent down, his mouth skimming your mouth and cheeks, leaving shivers in his passage, until he pressed his lips right below your ear.

"A hormonal teen that made you squirt for the first time in your life"

"Javier-" your voice had already reduced to a thread of a whimper.

Fuck him and his irresistible sex appeal.

He was right, no one had ever made you feel as good as he had, and as much as he thought you weren't affected by that knowledge, he'd be shocked to find out how difficult it proved not to squirm every time he merely looked at you.

Yes, of course you were constantly thinking about that night too.

"Tell me you don't think about it"

He was like a mind reader

You stayed silent, conscious that any response you could give would inevitably give you away.

"That's what I thought" A snicker rumbled from his chest, his hand moving from your waist to slide underneath the hem of your skirt.

You hummed, your brain only half functioning as he continued to trail hot wet kisses down your throat.

"W-what are you doing?" you tried to speak normally without success.

"what does it look like I'm doing?" he smirked, his hand now fully cupping your clothed core, making you whine "What I've been thinking of doing for a whole damn week- so I don't lose my mind"

Two of his fingers were circling the wet spot on your panties when a phone rang from the other room, making your eyes snap open.

What the fuck were you doing?

You were at work- anyone could come in at any moment.

"Javier wait," you said, finally getting your voice back to normal.

"what is it, sweetheart?" from the way his eyes were still a thousand shades darker and blatantly staring at your mouth you could have guessed the danger of being caught didn't trouble him one bit.

"We can't"

He groaned frustratedly then, his head falling between your neck and shoulder

"why not sweetheart?"

"are you serious?" a quick laugh bubbled up your throat "we're at work"

"so?"

"so?" you parroted, only your voice was heightening with exasperation "so anyone could catch us at any given moment"

A soft smirk pulled at his lips, the hand that was still on your wall going to your waist to get you flush against him

"Are you ashamed of me sweetheart?" he teased

"Well, to be completely honest having sex with the biggest slut in Columbia isn't exactly my highest moment"

He feigned a gasp, his hot breath fanning over your own parted mouth

"Me? A slut?"

"yeah, you" You couldn't fight the smile pulling at your lips.

There he was, doing it again- making all your common sense fly out the window with his godforsaken charm.

"c'mon baby, I'll be quick"

And although you didn't want to, you could see yourself starting to consider his proposal.

"that's supposed to convince me?" you arched a brow, an amused smile pulling at your lips

"What, you think I can't make you come quickly?" he purred, his hand going to your ass in a swift move to grab at it.

You bit down a whine "Well I don't know"

"tell me you don't want it" he teased, the fingers on your core starting a torturous path up and down your still-clothed, but unbelievably drenched, slit "That you don't want this"

His fingers had trespassed your panties and had now found your raw skin, making you gasp

"anyone could come in us, including Messina" you added breathlessly

"I locked the door" he promised, his forehead on yours as his ring and middle finger gently found their way inside of you.

"a-and what if someone needs to get in?" you tried your best not to moan, but the way he curled his fingers made it so very fucking difficult

"then we'll tell them to fuck off" he murmured, his mouth now touching yours, but still not kissing you.

"If we get caught I'm gonna kill you, we clear?"

"yes ma'am" he smirked, his breath mixing with yours

"now- may I kiss you, baby?"

You rolled your eyes before answering "Yes, you may"

And just like that, he was devouring you, his lips crashing with yours and his tongue sliding into your mouth to explore every inch of it, gaining dominance on your own in a matter of seconds.

"fuck I missed this" he groaned, his fingers suddenly speeding up and robbing you of all ability to tease him about his words "these fucking lips are gonna be the death of me"

Your mouth was open as you desperately tried to get oxygen to your lungs, but he didn't care, he took your bottom lip into his mouth and started sucking, his fingers fastening their pace as the filthy sound of your wetness bounced off the walls of the room.

"tell me you thought about it too" he growled, his palm making contact with your clit and forcing you to gasp as your hips started grinding onto it, onto his hand, sparks of pleasure staining your vision. "tell me I'm not the only crazy one baby"

You bit your lip to stifle a moan as you felt yourself grow closer to a release.

"shit- you look so fucking hot when you're about to come"

"I-" your eyes were squeezed shut, but you could feel the heat of his stare on you, the way his eyes never left you, not even as he kissed your neck, the soft stubble of his mustache tickling your skin "I've thought about it too javi"

The satisfied groan he let out told you just about everything you needed to know.

"When?" he asked, his voice hoarse, his fingers relentless

"A-always" you whimpered, "e-everytime I look at you"

shit- maybe you shouldn't have said that

"yeah?" a wolfish grin tugged at his lips "You think about me? about my cock? my fingers? my tongue?"

You mewled at his words, at the memory they brought with them, at how fucking good he was making you feel-

"J-Javi please"

"what?" he breathed, his mouth on yours again, your hips grinding shamelessly onto his hand "You're gonna come baby, 's that it?"

"y-yeah- fuck- I-"

he knew the signs by now, he knew those desperate breathless sounds you made just as you reached your peak- and god did he fucking love them

"come for me- come baby" he murmured, his lips crushing with yours to stifle your moans just as your walls spasmed around his digits- wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

Oh how he loved seeing the strong fiery woman he saw every day come apart beneath him, all your walls crumbling down 'till there was just pure lust and pleasure beneath your eyes, 'till your body went limp and clung to him for support.

"fuck" you breathed your eyes finally opening again, only to find that his had never left yours. "I-" you gulped, but his lips were on yours again, his hands holding your face on each side, his fingers now out of you.

"w-we should get back," you said, mostly trying to remind yourself, of where you really were, of what you were really doing... but it was all so difficult when he was looking at you like that- when you could feel his hard cock straining against his jeans- the same one that had felt so fucking good inside of you.

"we should" he agreed, although a twisted grin played on his lips.

he was already kissing you again, exploring you again, and in no time you found yourself caged between him and a shelf filled with boxes of evidence, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck.

Damn him

"People are gonna start wondering where we are"

"we're here... looking at evidence," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his hips grinding onto you, his mouth on the corner of your lips.

"fuck- fine," you murmured, the need for him stronger than anything at this point, even than the fear of getting fired.

He didn't waste a second- his dick was out in a heartbeat, and your panties were pulled to the side before you had even time to breathe.

His tip, his red, glistening tip found your entrance, making you gasp.

"c-condom" you suddenly remembered, your voice so feeble it was almost inaudible "Please tell me you've got a condom"

"fuck- you're right" he muttered, frustration tracing his tone "I should have one in my wallet"

Of course he had one in his wallet

His left hand reached into his back pocket, finding his wallet and taking the condom out of it as quickly as he could, throwing the wallet somewhere to the side.

You were supporting yourself all on your own as he rolled the condom onto his dick, which might sound easy... but seeing the state of your leg it really was a miracle.

It was all so fast, he seemed desperate as he guided his tip to your entrance, as he gripped your waist and kissed your lips while entering you.

He was so fucking big, definitely the biggest one you'd ever encountered, and not only that... but he fucking knew how to use it too.

It was impossible not to moan, and for him, it was impossible not to groan- let's just say the possibility of getting caught wasn't first on the list of things in your mind at the moment.

"fuckfuckfuck" you whimpered, letting out a soft cry when he finally bottomed out

"Jesus Christ you feel fucking perfect" he growled, his eyes on yours, his hands gripping your waist as he tried his best to give you a moment to adjust and not start to fuck you like an animal right away.

"J-Javi"

And that, that little plead in your voice was all he needed to hear.

There was no way the sound of your skin slapping with his couldn't be heard from outside.

He felt so fucking good- criminally so.

"oh my g-" you had to bite down on something, and the little sliver of skin his shirt didn't cover right where his shoulder met his neck seemed much too perfect for your need.

He groaned, the bastard fucking groaned in pleasure as your teeth sank down into his skin, and you swore to god you could have come from that sound alone.

Your hands were laced between his neck, fingers taking hold of whatever hair you could grab, as he thrust up into you like a man starved, and you did all you could to meet his movements with the same urgency.

It had only been a week, and yet it felt like it'd been an eternity- a torturous, awful eternity of daying yourself of this.

"been thinking about this every fucking minute this week" his voice was breathy, hoarse, as he whispered to your ear "about this perfect fucking pussy of yours- about your mouth, about how- Fuck me-" his own growl interrupted him, your walls were squeezing him much too fucking tight "how good you taste, how hot you look when I'm eating you out- about this fucking perfect body of yours" he purred "Jesus christ you make me lose my mind"

You couldn't help but moan, moan at his words, at his pace, at the way his touch sent sparks flying in your belly- it was all too much.

"You've gotta be quiet baby" he murmured as you raised your head to look at him, to beg him for something- anything.

"I know sweetheart, I know" he breathed, his lips skimming yours "I know issa lot"

And to think you couldn't even stand him seven days ago... look at you now- looking into his eyes pleadingly as he fucked you in the evidence room.

"Javi" you could only breathe as his mouth crashed with yours once again, "I'm gonna-"

"I know"

Of course he knew

And just like that, you were over the edge, his tongue in your mouth muffling your cries as his thrust got more erratic, and somehow even more powerful.

Once again, he'd given you the best orgasm of your life.

He tried to hold off to let you ride it out, but fuck him it was proving to be real fucking difficult.

And then you opened your eyes- your beautiful, dreamy, eyes that he'd been dreaming of for days and there was no point in fighting it anymore-

"F-fuck y/n- fuck-"

There was a loud thud somewhere behind you, but neither of you cared enough to look, or god forbid stop- there was only you, you, and the spectacular groan Javier fed you into a kiss as he finally reached his climax.

There was only the sound of your breathing, both your heavy breathings as you looked at each other- and then you smiled, and he couldn't help but do the same.

And then all of the sudden the sounds from the office started flowing into the room again.

Oh right

"we really have to get back"

"yeah" he halfheartedly agreed, slowly setting you back on your feet, only in doing so, something caught your eye.

"fuck"

There were files on the floor- there were files on the floor because you'd knocked down some of the boxes of evidence- and you hadn't even noticed.

Javier followed your line of sight, but while panic was setting in your heart, he began to smile

"don't laugh!" you hissed, "what the fuck do we do? How do we explain this?"

"we don't" he simply shrugged, closing his zipper back up as you quickly tried to make yourself presentable.

"What?"

"we were never here- now, get back out there"

"I-"

"trust me" he said, retrieving his wallet from the floor.

And for some fucking reason, you did- you trusted him.

"I hate you so much" you muttered, finally exiting the room.

Tg:@fallout-girl219

[kpop---scenarios]

Neighbour

Pairing: Yunho x Reader

Warning: Smut [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Just a little Yunho smut... might need to do more members lol

“Hey neighbor.” You hear from beside you as you're trying to unlock your door. You glance over, seeing your new, and extremely hot and single neighbor standing at his front door, shirtless, smiling at you while also unlocking his own door. He was sweaty, his shirt tucked into the waistline of his shorts.

Fuck you loved when he came home from a run.

“Oh.” You giggle. “Hi.” You say, unlocking the deadbolt and going inside. You were so awkward around him and you hated it. He made you feel so many things in every part of your body, but you'd never be the one to make the first move. You place your things down on your kitchen table, rummaging through your fridge and cupboards, trying to decide if you should have something to eat, or ease your throbbing clit. Even just the slightest glance from Yunho made your pussy tingle, you couldn't imagine what he'd do to you while actually physically touching you.

You close your cupboard and shuffle your way to your room, getting completely undressed, before climbing into your bed, and digging in your nightstand for your favorite, and only toy. You close your eyes, placing your vibrator on your clit as you think about Yunho running his hands down your body, sucking on your clit, sucking on your tits, ramming his cock into you.

“Fuck.” You cry out.

You wanted him so fucking badly, but for now your imagination was going to have to do.

“Oh god.” You moan, grabbing your own breast, rolling your nipple between your fingers. You were right fucking there, on the brink of your orgasm, when your vibrator dies.

“What!?” You yell out. “No, no, no, please don't die on me now.” You whimper, hitting it with your hand, trying to bring it back to life. You dig through your bedside table, the only place in your entire apartment that you kept batteries and nothing.

“Fuck!” You yell out in frustration.

Seconds later you hear faint knocking on your front door. Panicked, you grab the first thing you find to cover yourself, your small silk robe. You wrap it around your body, shuffling to the door, pulling it open angrily.

Your face immediately softens at the sight of Yunho standing there, with a smile on his face.

“Oh, hi.” You say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I, uh, couldn't help but hear you were having some troubles.” He laughs, pointing to the walls. “They're thin, remember.”

Your face heats up in embarrassment, you bring your palm to your head, closing your eyes.

“I'm so sorry.” You sigh. “I didn't realize how…loud…” You trail off.

“If you want, and I'm just putting this out there, I'm more than willing to help you out.” He says. Your head shoots up, staring at him with wide eyes.

“You mean…” You pause.

“I wanna fuck you, Y/N.” He says. “To be honest, I was close to cumming listening to you.”

You can't speak. You hold your robe a little tighter, biting your lip and nodding your head. Yunho starts walking towards you, you back up, the both of you still maintaining eye contact as he steps inside your place, closing the door behind him. He keeps walking to you, but now you don't move. He reaches out, opening your robe and sliding it off your body. It sends a chill down your spine, perking up your nipples as his fingers slide over your breast, down to your stomach.

He smiles as he leans in, placing his lips on yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Somehow, this kiss turns you into a needy, feral horny girl who has never been touched before. You wrap your arms around his neck as he hoists you up, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. Yunho's lips never leave yours as he brings you to the bedroom, dropping you onto your bed. He watches you as he takes off his shirt, before stripping off his shorts, letting his hard cock spring free.

You could feel your pussy dripping as he crawled onto the bed, spreading your legs widely before settling his face in between. Yunho opens his mouth, sliding the flat of his tongue up your already soaked cunt, making your grip the bed already. He slurps up your juices, wrapping his lips around your clit, gently sucking as he inserts two fingers inside you. Your back arches as you grab your tits, closing your eyes while Yunho sucks and licks your cunt.

“I wanna hear you, baby.” Yunho murmurs, going back to working his magic.

“Oh my fucking god.” You cry out. “Just like that…” You moan.

You can feel your orgasm building quickly, your chest heaves as you pant, grinding yourself on his face. “Fuck… I'm… fucking… cumming.” You cry out, your orgasm exploding from inside you.

Yunho sits up, licking his lips and his face, using the cum from his fingers to soak his cock.

“Hands and knees.” He demands, flipping you over to your stomach. Your body already feels weak from your first orgasm. The second you get up onto your hands and knees and you stick your ass up. Yunho grips your hips, pushing himself inside you.

“Holy fuck.” You cry out, hanging your head down as Yunho pulls out, slamming himself back inside of you.

“Fuck. You feel so good.” Yunho groans, digging his fingertips into your side. “Mhmm, you take my cock so well.” He whispers, pounding into you over and over again.

You clench your pussy around him, each time he slides into you, making him gasp with each thrust.

“My…god.” you cry, reaching between your lips, using your fingers to rub your clit.

“Good girl.” Yunho moans. “I want you to cum all over my cock.”

The way he was speaking was turning you on more and more, you didn't know how much longer you were going to last. He grabs onto your hair, yanking your head back, thrusting harder into you.

“Cum, cum for me baby.” He groans, holding back his own orgasm.

Seconds later, your second orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks. Your arms give out, he lets go of your hair, and instead pushes your face into the mattress as he keeps pounding into you.

“Fuck. I'm gonna cum.” He gasps, slowing his pace down as he spills his cum inside of you, leaving you both panting.

“Shit.” He laughs, pulling his cock out of you, laying down on your bed to catch his breath.

“Wow.” You giggle, collapsing on your bed beside him.

He turns his head to look at you. “Wanna order some food?” He asks.

Your eyes close but you nod your head. You're exhausted. He laughs, getting up to get dressed. “Let's decide what we want, and then maybe round two?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Your eyes shoot open. “Round two?”

“Oh yeah. I'm not done with you today, tomorrow, the next day… and so on.” He smiles. “But hey, I was better than your vibrator right?”

[jogetsobsessed]

Mrs.Call - Embry Call x Reader

I am still working on this request but to be honest, it's taking me a while because I wrote almost 2k words and then deleted it all because I hated it lol. Anyway, here's something to hopefully tide you over, beware it's kinda small. 

Y/M/N = your maiden name

---------

You stared at the fish darting around the oversized tank, observing as they weaved through the various decorations placed haphazardly amongst the colorful gravel. You were completely mesmerized, as you always had been since you were a kid. 

Simple things could occupy you for hours, it was something that Embry loved about you. He swore he fell in love all over again every time your face lit up when you saw an elaborate fish tank in a waiting room or a field full of grazing cattle when on a long drive. It didn't matter,  you always found something to be excited about and that was something he was trying to imitate in his everyday life. 

His hand rested on your thigh, using his pointer finger to trace small circles against your denim-clad leg. He was observing you, as he always does, listening to you softly humming the tune to the last song the two of you were listening to before you got to the doctor's office.

It was just a routine checkup. You had a small noninvasive surgery on your wrist two weeks prior and even though you weren't even wearing the bandage anymore Embry had insisted that he drove you everywhere. You had tried to argue that you were perfectly fine and insisted that he left for patrol. Five minutes later he came into the bathroom where you were getting ready for the appointment, kissed your cheek, and then you heard the front door close. 

Triumphantly you turned your music up and finished the last of your morning routine before heading out to your car. The music was still coming from your phone as you skipped along to the beat, not paying attention to your surroundings. 

So imagine to your surprise when you looked in your car from the windshield and saw Embry, sporting a shit-eating grin as he tapped his fingers against the top of the steering wheel. At the moment you were flabbergasted, however, the more you thought about it, the more you were not surprised. It was totally in Embry's character to trick you like he had. And while Embry would jump in front of a moving bus if you asked him, he tended to not listen when he thought it would benefit you. 

Now the two of you sat in a pair of conjoined chairs in the waiting room, waiting for your name to be called. Your eyes drifted to his every once in a while because you could feel his gaze. And he would smile the same smile that made you fall for him in the first place and go back to watching you. 

Back when you first got together the combined actions of his hand on your thigh and his eyes not leaving you would have sent you into an embarrassed fit. But now after having been together for over half a decade and having been married officially for a month, you weren't as quick to spook anymore. 

Lost in your own little world you didn't notice the office door swinging open and it didn't register to you what the nurse was calling out. 

“Mrs.Y/M/N” 

“Mrs.Y/M/N” 

“Oh wait, my mistake. Mrs.Call”

Your head snapped up at that. Had she been calling you the whole time? Embry nudged your leg and you met his gaze, this time your cheeks lighting up fiery red as heat warmed your face. You were thoroughly embarrassed now and by the smirk on Embry's face, he knew it. 

“I think it's time for you to go back, …Mrs.Call '', he drew out your new last name offering you his hand as you begrudgingly stood up. Embry was biting the inside of his cheek excessively to hold in the laugh that he so badly wanted to let out. 

The scene before him had been perfect. 

You were so enthralled with the fish that hearing someone call out your maiden name, the same last name you had carried from birth until just a month ago hadn't registered to you in your former state of being occupied as a possibility of being you. 

No, you were only brought back to a state of full consciousness by hearing your last name for only a month, the name that was his last name. 

Embry prided himself on being a modern man, however hearing you being called Y/N Call drove him crazy, and he loved every second of it.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, forgive me”, you exclaimed as you walked towards the smiling nurse all while trying to compose yourself, and not let Embry rile you up. 

And while you gave it your very best effort, sometimes trying is simply not enough. 

Because throughout the entire post-op appointment, Embry couldn't wipe the dumb smirk off his face, especially when the two of you would make fleeting eye contact and your face would burn bright and warm. 

After being given a clean bill of health you hurried to the parking garage, trying to get away from your husband. Because even though you both knew that what had happened was not a big deal, you were making it a big deal because you had gotten momentarily embarrassed.  

Huffing as you pulled the passenger door closed Embry lost it. Releasing all the laughter that he had been holding back. Normally you would revel in the sound, his laughter especially the deep belly laughter which was reserved mostly for you was one of your favorite melodies. But not this time. No, because his laughter was at your expense. 

“Embry it's not funny”, you pouted, staring straight ahead as he began pulling the car out of the garage, the familiar pitter-patter of rain starting as soon as you left the protection of the concrete building. 

“My sweet girl, I feel like I should hold your hand while I tell you this, but that whole situation was hilarious. Your reaction was hilarious”, he was laughing again, turning to steal glances at your reaction. 

Your face twisted up as you tried to figure out a rebuttal, but you couldn't. Because he was right like he always is. 

“She didn't call my name”, you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest in a very childlike manner. 

“And here I thought I knew the woman I married, you finally gonna tell me after seven years together that your last name isn't Y/M/N?”, he questioned, raising an eyebrow all the while the stupid smirk from earlier returned. 

“That's exactly what I’m saying, last time I checked my last name is no longer Y/M/N. It's Call,  so why would I respond to Y/M/N?”, you quirked your eyebrow up at him, waiting to hear his argument back. 

Except he didn't argue. 

Instead, he took your hand in his and brought it up. He placed several kisses against your knuckles and fiddled with the wedding band he had laid on your finger weeks ago. 

“I guess you have a point, Mrs.Call”.

[ticklygiggles]

Rite Duel 2.0

A/N: Big, big thanks to kind @eliankrios for his suppooort ❤️❤️ thank you for being patient with me! I was in some kind of writers block, but it seems okay now lol. I hope you enjoy this and, as always, I hope they're not too OOC nskdkd THANK YOU ELIAN 💕

Also thanks to my girl Ginny for letting me use her fic for reference to this one! MWAH 💕

Summary: After learning that there is a way to actually win against Cyno, Sethos finally takes his chance to try!

Lots of tickling descriptions hehe

Words: 3k+

Sethos was not, by all means, ashamed of losing against Cyno for Hermanubis’ power. If he was completely honest, some part of him told him that he had no chance against General Mahamatra himself, so he was not surprised by the result of the duel, if anything, he felt honored for fighting with him and seeing Cyno's friends dueling with and for him. Having good companions, people you can trust and who always give you a hand was very important in the desert.

Furthermore, being recognized as the heir of the Temple of Silence clan by Cyno and promising a new alliance with the city of Sumeru, was more than he could have imagined... and also gave him excuses to visit Avidya Forest frequently. There were so many things to do, see and eat and so many interesting people that he could talk to for hours on end. 

Many of his new friends were there too. Cyno, Tighnari, the traveler and even that interesting person he had met at the Akademiya. So he always got very excited when he was called by Cyno for important meetings, which usually consisted of him teaching him how to play Genius Invokation and Sethos failing miserably in every single game. 

“You need to practice some more,” Cyno said, beating Sethos for the fifth consecutive time. “Don't you play in the Temple of Silence?” 

Sethos sighed deeply, automatically throwing his cards to Cyno for him to shuffle them. “We, sadly, don't have much time to play like this. We have things to do, you see.” 

His lips spread in a mischievous smile, and although Tighnari and the traveler laughed behind their hands, Cyno simply huffed out a laugh through his nose and rolled his eyes with a little smile in his mouth.

“I see. Good thing you're now in Avidya Forest, so get ready to practice a lot.”

Sethos whined. "Technically, we're in the Traveler's wolrd..." He knew that the general wouldn't let him leave or stop the game until he defeated him at least once. 

“Cyno, you're being too harsh on Sethos,” Tighnari said, propping his chin in the palm of his hand to look at Cyno with that dreamy expression that always made Sethos blush and look away. He was sitting to Cyno's right at the four-sided table. Aether right in front of Tighnari while Paimon floated around them. 

“Yeah.” Paimon nodded. “Sethos has had his head in the sand his entire life, even a game of Genius Invokation is too much for him.”

“P-Paimon…” 

All three men around him turned their heads away, trying to contain their laughter. Sethos felt his cheeks heating up and he fanned his face with his hand.

“L-Listen, I've been attending to my… duties and- and Genius Invokation isn't exactly a popular game in the desert…” 

Cyno cleared his throat. “Anyways, the next round is about to start.”

“You got this, Sethos!” Aether cheered, but Sethos whined loudly as he saw Cyno making the first move. 

There was a time when Sethos won, but they had to play about twenty times and Sethos had only won because the traveler had tickled Cyno to distract him. 

Setho chuckled to himself and Cyno looked at him with narrowed eyes.

Who would've thought General Mahamatra was a ticklish person? Certainly not him, yet again he had never been too fixed on tickling someone, or being tickled himself. That until he met this bunch of interesting people. He still remembered that special training he had with Aether the first time he showed the world inside his teapot, but he still hadn't had the chance to give it a try… could it be that tonight was the night? 

“Hey, tell you what.”

“Hmm?” Cyno mumbled, barely paying attention. 

“Let's have… another kind of duel.” That caught everyone's attention and four pairs of curious eyes landed on him. “If you win this duel… We'll keep playing Genius Invokation until I finally win,” he said with a grin and Cyno arched an eyebrow. “However,” Sethos continued. “If I win, then you'll give me a break for at least the rest of the night.” 

“What kind of duel?” Aether voiced the question in Cyno's expression, his golden eyes shining in wonder. 

Sethos chuckled, “you'll see once we start. We won't need weapons or anything, just our bare hands,” he said, lifting both his hands and wiggling his fingers, trying to give a clue to Cyno, but the only one who seemed to understand was Aether who smiled knowingly at Sethos. “So?”

Cyno pondered for a bit, his eyes traveling from the cards to Sethos face, then back to the cards and then to Tighnari's face. 

“I think a break sounds good,” Tighnari said, his tail swinging lazily from side to side. “You both have been at this for who knows how many- 

“This is the sixth time and I think I'll lose again,” Sethos said and this time even Paimon laughed. 

Cyno nodded. “Fine. I hope you don't mind us using your yard for this duel,” he said kindly to Aether and the traveler shook his head with a smile. 

“Paimon’s so excited to see what's this all about!” 

Sethos had been feeling excited too, but as they got up from the table and walked towards the traveler's large yard, he couldn't help but feel nervous. Aether had told him that this was a good way to beat Cyno, but what if he lost too? It wasn't a thing of honor or anything like that, his brain just couldn't stand that game anymore! 

“Eep!” Sethos jolted when he felt a poke to his ribs from behind, turning around, he was glad it was Aether. “Y-You surprised me, traveler.” 

“Did you finally decide to do it?”

Sethos nodded softly. “Yeah, my head is starting to hurt. Let's see if your special training was of any use.”

Aether laughed. “I wonder too, you lost far too many times,” he reminded him and Sethos laughed when he felt a squeeze to his side. “Just remember all the spots I told you about and do not let him pin you.” 

Whoa, it really sounded like this was going to be even more dangerous than the Rite of Duels back in the Temple of Silence. Sethos nodded as he gulped, finally planting himself in front of Cyno while Aether, Tighnari and Paimon looked at them from the side. 

“So? Is it like a wrestling match?” 

“Y-Yeah, something like that. At the count of three, okay? One… two!” 

“Ack! W-Wha– hey! S-Sehehethos!” 

Sethos almost froze when he heard Cyno's giggles as his hands latched to the General's sides and started to squeeze them gently, but firmly just as Aether had told him.

“Pff– a tickle fight?” Tighnari asked in disbelief, yet a little smile still pulled at his lips. 

“L-Like Paimon said,” she chuckled softly, floating beside Aether. “Sethos has had his head too deep in the sand…”

“Place your bets, everyone,” Aether chirped. “I bet Sethos will win.” 

“No way,” both Paimon and Tighnari said and by the looks of it, it seemed like they were right. 

“AHAHAHA! n-nohoHOHo!” 

It wasn't Cyno's laughter, but Sethos. He definitely understimated Cyno's abilities. Aether made it look way too easy and Sethos was extremely ticklish! How on earth did he even think that was a good idea?! He didn't know how, but he was able to tickle Cyno for exactly five seconds before he was thrown to the soft grass, pinned by one of Cyno's knees against his lower back and both the General's hands clawing at the back of his ribs. 

“Heh, you really thought you'd win against me?” Cyno spoke over Sethos laughter and the poor heir could only kick his legs and flail his arms around. “Did the traveler tell you about this? I'm sure he'll learn his lesson later.”

Poor traveler! Sethos somehow gathered enough strength to lift his body, successfully pushing Cyno off him and causing him to fall butt first against the grass. The general didn't have time to get up before Sethos was straddling his waist, his hands vibrating at the exposed stomach. Cyno threw his head back with a cackle and he tried to fight Sethos hands, but Sethos was agile and he laughed, trying to sound teasy, but just sounding nervous. 

“H-How’s that, hmm? General Mahamatra is seriously so ticklish,” Sethos teased, one of his hands clawing at the middle of Cyno's tummy, around his belly button while the other wrapped around his hip, trying to hold him in place, but also tickling him slightly. “You gotta make sure no one knows your weakness, or else you'll get in trouble~!” 

“S-Stohohohop or Ihihihi- AHAHAHA! WAHAHAIT!” 

Sethos jolted just as hard as Cyno did when he slipped one of his fingers inside his navel. He was surprised by the nearly hysterical laughter he was able to evoke from Cyno as he lightly tickled his navel, simply wiggling his finger around inside the little spot. Sethos giggled softly, tickling really was fun. 

Feeling extra mischievous, Sethos stopped momentarily so he could place one hand over Cyno's stomach, his thumb and index finger stretching his bellybutton nicely as his palm held him somehow in place. 

“Any last words?” He asked with a big grin as his finger wiggled at Cyno. 

Through slightly teary eyes, Cyno looked at Sethos, a silly smile pulling at his lips. “D-dohon't you dahare or I'll- SEHEHETHOS!” 

After teasing the spot gently by simply circling it with the tip of his finger, Sethos finally slipped it back in it, swirling and wiggling and vibrating. Cyno's laughter came out unrestrained, loud and panicky; he jolted and squirmed and desperately pulled at Sethos arms, but Sethos had the upper hand, until he didn't. 

In the blink of an eye, Sethos was facing the vast sky inside the Serenitea Pot and Cyno was straddling him, grabbing Sethos’ hands and pulling them under his knees. 

“N-Noho! Wahahait! Lihihisten! P-Plehehease!” Sethos begged, giggling although Cyno hadn't started tickling him yet, but he didn't have to wait too long as Cyno's fingers quickly did a little taunt above Sethos’ torso before they descended against his ribcage. 

Sethos threw his head back with a tirade of loud cackles. His arms desperately pulled at his trapped hands, but Cyno was firmly pinning him down as his hands roamed freely across his ribcage. Those mean hands traveled from the highest set of ribs, so close to his armpits, to the lowest ones, pinching, poking, prodding and rubbing everything and anything on their way. 

Sethos was nearly seeing stars. Aether tickled him so much during their trainings, but never this viciously. Cyno was determined to win… even if it meant tickling Sethos to death? 

Firm, but gently fingers rubbed at each bone and space inbetween and Sethos was almost sure Cyno was using some kind of trick, (perhaps his vision?), because there was no way his ribs could tickle like that, was it?

Cyno chuckled, “were you saying? Let's hope the people of the Temple of Silence don't know their leader is this ticklish,” he teased playfully. “Or else you could get in trouble.” 

Sethos shook his head, unable to speak as Cyno started to count his ribs out loud: one, two, four– oh no, I meant three, let me start again.

One, two, three… what was the next number? Oh, four right. Let me do it again. 

I'm not sure I counted properly, what do you think, Sethos? I'll start over just to make sure. 

Sethos, where's the twelveth rib? I don't seem— to find it… can you stop squirming? Also, move your arms away, I can't count like this. 

Aether's words resounded in his head: do not let him pin you. Now he understood why.

Sethos’ laughter only grew panickier the more Cyno tickled his poor, sensitive ribs. Tears of laughter already claimed place clinging to his lashes and his flushed cheeks hurt for smiling so hard. If he didn't stop Cyno, he was definitely going to pass out and be forced to keep playing Genius Invokation! 

Growling between his laughter, Sethos was able to raise his hips, making Cyno stop right away with a gasp as he reached forward to stop himself from collapsing above Sethos. Sethos wrapped his arms around Cyno's waist and pushed him to the side, both of them rolling a couple of times before Sethos pinned Cyno on his belly.

Immediately, thumbs dug into the muscle of Cyno's lower back, rubbing deep circles and causing him to giggle brightly and kick his feet as he tried to reach behind him to capture Sethos’ hands, his spine arching up as he shook from one side to the other. Meanwhile Sethos felt like he was trembling after that brutal attack to his ribs, his bones still tingling with tickly aftershocks. 

He fluttered his fingers up Cyno's spine and dragged his fingertips down that tender spot near his sides, but not quite. He then pinched and squeezed at his lower sides and that place at his kidney area and focused in every spot that made Cyno laugh the brightest. For example, massaging his shoulder blades would make Cyno snort and placing rapid pokes up his spine would make him shriek. 

The back of his neck was fairly sensitive as well, Cyno would throw his head back as best as he would when Sethos wiggled his fingers there and snorty giggles would fill the air. The back of his ears was also- 

“AHAHAHA! CY-CYNOHOHO!”

“Cy-Cy-yehehehes.”

“Ugh,” three beings in the sides rolled their eyes, but no one noticed as Cyno had managed to get a hold of Sethos’ knees and was squeezing them. 

Sethos laughed, squeezing Cyno's waist to make him stop, but Cyno was persistant, his hands moving to squeeze at his thigh and Sethos couldn't stand it. He stood up and tried to make a run for it, but he was able to take two strides before he felt Cyno's fingers closing around one of his ankles, making him fall face first. 

“Aaaaghhh! AHAHAHA!” 

Sethos banged his fists on the ground as Cyno took a seat on his shins and started to squeeze and massage the back of his knees. Sethos screamed with laughter, how was that spot ticklish?! He tried to kick his legs, but Cyno was squeezing his own around him, limiting his movements as his fingers wiggled in the hollows in the back of Sethos’ knees; his thumbs massaging the muscle, making Sethos shriek with laughter. 

“How do you make a knee laugh, Sethos?” 

“Oh Archons.”

“He won't say it, right?” 

“I think he will.” 

“You tickle its funny bone.” Sethos broke into loud laughter as Cyno tickled both the front and the back of one of his knees. “Very funny, right? I'm glad you appreciate my jokes.”

Sethos shook his head, desperately trying to crawl away from underneath Cyno, and shrieking again when now his other knee was under attack. He never knew knees could be ticklish, but of course he had to learn this fact first hand, huh? 

“Uff-!” Cyno quickly moved off Sethos when a leg almost hit his groin. Sethos stood up quickly, but then slumped again when his eyes caught Cyno's foot. General Mahamatra read his intentions, and tried to escape, but he was already tired and uncoordinated, so it was not difficult for Sethos to catch one of his ankles, dragging him towards him. 

“Where are you going, General? The duel is not over until one of us asks for mercy," Sethos said breathlessly and with a huge smile on his face. "Are you suddenly scared? You didn't want me to tickle your feet? What a shame~.” 

Sethos straddled Cyno's ankles, pressing them together between his legs and his blunt nails quickly went to work all over the soles, skittering up under his toes and down to the hollows of his ankles. Cyno became almost hysterical; his toes curled tightly, but Sethos easily pushed them back on one foot with one hand and used the other to scratch at the sensitive skin under and between them. 

“SEHEHETHOS! Hohohold ohohon!” 

“Do you yield? I will only stop if you give up!” Setho yelled over Cyno's loud laughter, his evil fingers not giving the Mahamatra the chance to catch his breath as Sethos tickled his sole mercilessly. 

Cyno was nearly howling behind him, squirming like a little fish out of water as Sethos’ fingers skittered across the balls of Cyno's feet and then to his arches and next to his toes that made Cyno scream with laughter. 

“Your toes are so ticklish,” Sethos commented, not really teasing, but if Cyno felt it that way, that was a plus. “How do you go around life being this sensitive?” 

Sethos was not expecting an answer from the cackling Cyno, he actually thought he was going to give up at any second now… until he felt a hand grabbing his hip. 

“EEK!” Sethos' immediately rose to his feet, brushing his hip to get rid of the tingly sensation that touch caused. “Th-Thahat s-spot is off- off limits!” 

Although breathless and tearing up, Cyno smirked, also getting on his trembling feet. “You n-never said anything… haah… about ‘off-limit spots’.”

Sethos gulped before he started to run away from Cyno; he wanted to say that he did run a lot, but only after three steps, Cyno was catching and throwing him back to the grass before straddling Sethos' thighs. 

“No!” Sethos' shrieked, laughing as he tried to grab Cyno's hands that were taunting him. He wiggled his fingers high, slowly lowering them towards Sethos' hips. “W-Wahahait up! Y-You must have a w-weak spot, s-so–”

“I do,” Cyno nodded, his hands finally descending to Sethos' hips. “It's a shame, for you of course, that you don't know where that is.” 

Sethos couldn't care less about what Cyno was saying at that moment. He was too busy laughing his head off and desperately trying to push Cyno's hands away as the General pinched and squeezed at his hips. Sethos howled in hysterics, he arched his spine and tilted his head back, overwhelmed by the electrifying tickly touches climbing from his hips to his brain. He couldn't do anything against those evil fingers exploring his most ticklish spot. 

“Hehe, how's this, Sethos? Is it ticklish? Look how much you're dancing, you're definitely loving this, huh?” 

Sethos shook his head, squealing and squeaking between hysterical peals of laughter. “NOHOT THEHERE! AH! P-PLEHEHEASE!” He begged, tears falling the sides of his face. “STAHAHAP! P-PLEHEHEASE!” 

“Of course,” Cyno said, chuckling softly. “You just gotta admit you give up. Easy, right?”

“N-Nohoho! J-Juhust– AHAHAFIHIHINE! Fihihine, I gihihive up! PLEHEHEASE!” 

Cyno stopped, lifting his hands off the other's body and Sethos went limp, laughing and giggling and rubbing at his hips to get rid of the residual feeling of Cyno's fingers. 

“I hope you're ready to properly learn how to play Genius Invokation, Sethos,” Cyno said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at Sethos with a smirk. “I won't show mercy this time.” 

Sethos let out a whiny giggle, letting his head fall against the grass. “N-Nehext tihihime… I'll- I'll definitely wihin.” 

“Mhmm, of course you will,” Cyno chuckled, extending his hand for Sethos to take. “Now let's go, you won't leave Avidya Forest until you win against me at least five times.” 

Sethos whined, grabbing Cyno's hand and standing on shaky legs. He looked over at Aether and shrugging his shoulders, he smiled sheepishly. 

Next time for sure! 

BONUS SCENE 

“You owe us, Traveler,” Paimon and Tighnari said with a smug grin and Aether whined. 

“I really thought Sethos would win… he still has a long way to go, it seems.” 

“To be fair, it's hard to win tickle fights against Cyno,” Tighnari mentioned, shrugging his shoulders as the three of them made their way back to the table where another Genius Invokation duel was taking place

“I can win against him.”

“Haha, yes, but after how many tries was it?” Paimon teased and she and Tighnari laughed at him. 

Yeah, Sethos really had a long way to go!

[wwilsonbarness]

stay?

pairings:  bucky barnes x reader

summary: after one date with Bucky Barnes your life takes a turn for the worst.

warnings: awkward first date (kinda), violence, angst, fluff, sexual assault (warning just in case), kidnapping, sad bucky, sad reader, sadness lol (let me know if i forgot anything pleasee)

word count: 4170

a/n: enjoy :)

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

masterlist

Your pinky finger was slowly inching towards his as he walked you up the steps to your door. It had been the perfect evening, starting off with a dinner at one of the fanciest restaurants in the city, then a couple games of mini golf followed by cheeseburgers because both of you agreed the portions at “WOZ” were nowhere near enough. You’d met Bucky through one of your friends, and if you were being honest the idea of dating an Avenger was very intimidating but she insisted you would be ‘perfect together’. 

“Thank you for tonight Bucky, I had a really good time.” You’d grown more confident as the night went on but now that the date was ending you were back to your shy self. You didn’t want the night to end and even though you’d only met Bucky a few hours ago you had felt an instant connection. It really felt like how the movies made first dates look. 

“I had a good time too, would..” He stops himself and you can tell he’s feeling nervous, so you smile up at him, silently asking him to continue. You see his shoulders loosen once he sees your smile, “..would you maybe wanna do this aga-..?” 

“Yes.” You answer before he can even finish his sentence. 

“You do?” 

“I do.” You were internally beating yourself up for being so awkward but you couldn’t help but jump at the chance at seeing Bucky again. What you didn’t know that was Bucky was doing the same thing, Steve had always described him as being smooth with the ladies but right now it was like all his flirting skills had completely disappeared. 

“I erm, I better get going, but I’ll call you!” 

“I’ll be waiting!” You cringed at yourself, why did you have to be so awkward? 

“See you doll.” Bucky flashes you a smile - which has become one of your favourite sights in the very short time you’ve known him - before he starts to walk down the steps. You wave to him as he walks away and wait until you can no longer see him before you close your door. 

You drop your bag on the counter, untie your shoes and start to unzip your dress as you walk to your bedroom before a knock at your door stops you. You don’t think twice before going over and opening the knock, the only logical person it could be was Bucky. Right? 

“Back alrea- Oh. Hi?” It wasn’t Bucky, it was a man with short black hair and tattoos and a black hood covering most of his face. “Can I help you?”

“You Y/N Y/L/N?” The man grunts at you in return.

“I am.. Who are you?” As soon as you answer him you regret it, it goes against every piece of advice you’d been given about being safe as a woman in the city. 

“You don’t need to know who I am sweetheart.” Your heartbeat was beginning to speed up now, panic setting in fast. You try to close your door as quickly as you can but his foot stops you. 

He begins to shake his head, “Uh uh, I don’t think so.” he pushes forward and you fall backwards landing on the floor. 

Your eyes were beginning to well up and you were frozen in fear, this was it wasn’t it? You’re gonna die right here. 

“Stop being such a baby jesus fucking christ.” He paced around your apartment a little, his jacket moving slightly which makes the gun he has in the back of his jeans become visible.

“P-Please, you can take anything you want. Just please don’t hurt me” You pleaded to him, hoping somehow there was a tiny part of him that would listen. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” You sighed deeply thinking there was a chance you’d get out of this alive, but if he wasn’t going to hurt you what was he planning to do?

“What do..what do you want from me?” 

“I’m just here to take ya to the big man.” 

You didn’t think you could feel any more scared than you already did, but the mention of “the big man” terrified you. Why were they targeting you? 

“Do me a favour, would ya sweetheart? Stop talking.” He smirked down at you which only made you feel worse, it looked like he was enjoying this. 

You were too scared to say anything else, and he was focusing on his phone instead of you. Part of you was tempted to try and escape but you were still frozen in fear, you had no defence skills and probably wouldn’t get very far and you really didn’t wanna piss this guy off anymore. 

Around 10 minutes pass of you sitting on the floor, wracking your brain to find any reason as to why someone would want to kidnap you. You weren't anything special, and you hadn’t even lived in New York for that long. 

“Get up. He’s ready for ya.” You get to your feet shakily and wait for him to tell you what to do next. 

“Go on then.” He shoves you towards the door, and follows behind you. As you near the door you feel something hard against your back. “Make any noise and I’ll use it.” Shit. You didn’t say anything back, just nodding to show you understood.

After you get into his car he drives for what feels like hours to an underground garage, you tried to memorise the route you went but it was hopeless. You’d never been to this side of the city before. A few minutes walk later and you’re standing outside an office, you assume this is the guy who sent someone to hunt you down. 

The door opens and you get pushed in, stumbling a little before you find your balance. There are two men waiting in there, who look you up and down before smirking. 

“Soldier chooses them well.” The taller one says to his shorter friend. 

“Sure does. Shame he’ll never see her again.” 

Soldier? Are they talking about Bucky? 

“What do you want from me?” You tried to keep your voice calm but you could tell it came out laced with fear. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.” The shorter man walks towards you and trials his finger over the edge of your dress. “All you need to worry about is standing here and looking pretty, sweetheart.” 

—----- 

On the other side of the city the soldier in question was sitting discussing ‘the best night of his life’ with Sam, who was silently judging how his friend was acting. 

“And everytime she told me a joke she'd wait a couple seconds before laughing to make sure I found it funny first. And when she laughs her nose scrunches up, it’s so adorable. And everytime i told her she looked nice she’d do this thing where she bites her lip and she can’t look me in the eye. It’s ad-“

“Adorable. I get it, Buck.”

Bucky blushes as he realises how long he’d been speaking about you, but he can’t help it. He’s never met someone like you before and he can’t stop thinking about you since he left your doorstep. 

“How long is an acceptable time before I call her?” Bucky knows Sam is probably sick of hearing about you but he’s Bucky’s favourite (and only) person he feels safe enough to talk to, not that he’d ever tell Sam that. 

Sam looks at the imaginary watch on his wrist before answering. “Not 3 hours Buck.” A frown appears on Bucky’s face to which Sam snickers at. “I thought you were a ladies man.” 

“I was. Things are different now.” Bucky tries to force a smile out but he can’t. His voice grows a lot quieter as he continues. “Do you think she doesn’t want me to call?” 

“Hey, I didn’t say that! The way you’ve described the night, it sounds like she feels the same as you.” 

“Hm. Maybe.” 

“Buck I’m serious, I was just joking before. I’m sure she’s waiting for your call.” 

“So tomorrow?” Bucky asks with his smirk growing again. 

Sam laughs, “Yeah, tomorrow.”

Safe to say Bucky does not wait until tomorrow, actually he doesn’t even make it another hour before texting you.” 

Hey, it’s Bucky! Sorry if this is too soon but I had a really good time tonight. We need a rematch soon! 

He spent a further 2 hours staring at the screen, with every minute that passed that the message was left on ‘delivered’ he picked apart his message more. He finally locks his phone and heads to his room for the night. But not without a lecture from Sam first. “You called her didn’t you?” 

“No!” Bucky rushes to defend himself. “But hypothetically if someone was to text their date 4 hours after the date. How would that look?”

“Bucky! I thought you were waiting until tomorrow.” 

“I tried.” 

“Has she responded?” 

Bucky shakes his head. “Is this what ghosting is? Oh god. Am I being ghosted?” 

“Please for the love of god stop letting Peter teach you modern slang. You’re not being ghosted, it’s late she’s probably just sleeping. Bucky looks at the clock behind Sam and sighs in relief. 

“You’re right. Okay, I’m gonna sleep too.” It was nearing 3am, no wonder you haven't replied to him he thought to himself.

Bucky gets around 4 hours of sleep before he gets woken up by his phone ringing. He answers it without looking at who it is. “You’ve got 3 hours to give me back my brother, or else your girl gets a bullet through her pretty little face.” 

That wakes Bucky up faster than he ever has before. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“You heard me, Soldier. Clock’s ticking.” The call ends. 

Bucky freezes for a second trying to gain a little bit of understanding of what the fuck just happened. He pulls on the first piece of clothing he can find and runs towards the common room, hoping to find someone who can help him. Luckily the whole team is there, which is strange, normally the only time that happens is when there’s a mission going on. 

Before Bucky can even begin to explain what’s happening, Fury pipes up. “Barnes, what do you know about a Y/N Y/L/N?”

“Fuck!” This means he wasn’t imagining that phone call. We had one date, literally just last night. What the fuck is going on?” 

Half of the team moves so Bucky can see the big screen, and on it there’s a blown up picture of you, tied to a seat. Your dress is ripped, there’s blood dripping down the side of your face and your eyes are red, as if you’d been crying non stop for hours. Bucky walks slowly towards the screen and stops for a second to take in the picture, and almost instantly his brain switches to fighter mode. 

“What do we know?” 

“Bucky, maybe you should sit this one out.” Sam tries to reason with him, but Bucky doesn’t listen. 

“What the fuck do we know?”

Fury begins to tell Bucky all the information they have. “It seems your girlfriend wa-“

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Bucky wishes that statement wasn’t true, he wishes he could say you were his girl, but after this he was 100% sure that would never be the case.

“Okay.” Nick continues, wary of pissing Bucky off any more. “It seems Ms Y/L/N was taken from her home at around 11.30 last night. Her neighbours report seeing a black Audi sitting outside her apartment before she got home and say it left 30 minutes after you dropped her off. There’s no cameras in the area, her phone was left in her apartment so there is no way of tracking her. And just 30 minutes ago this picture was sent to my email. Along with a threat to her life if Zemo is not released from the raft in 3 hours.” 

Bucky tries to process all the information, you were taken just 30 minutes after he left? Guilt. Zemo has a brother? Anger. They were threatening to kill you? Fear. 

“I got a phone call a few minutes ago, said the same thing. Any leads on who this bastard is?” 

“None. No one is aware of Zemo having a brother.” 

Bucky nods along, “What’s the plan?”  

“You said you got a call? We’ll get tech to try and track it..” Nat suggests, knowing it most likely won’t work but it’s their best bet right now. “..and when they call again at least we’ll be ready to track it.”

“You think they’re gonna be dumb enough to leave a trace?” Bucky snapped at Nat. 

“It’s all we’ve got, Bucky. Look, we know you had some sort of relationship with this girl but you need to stay calm.” 

“I’m trying.” Bucky’s voice breaks a little, showing everyone how he is really feeling.

A couple minutes pass of everyone thinking the same thing but being too afraid to say it, until Fury finally breaks the silence. “There’s no way we can let Zemo out.” 

Bucky knows there’s no logical reason for them to listen to your kidnappers demands, he knows majority of the time they never stick to them, but the thought of you getting hurt anymore was too much to handle. 

“You’re just gonna let her die?” He shouts across the table. 

“Barnes I suggest you calm down or I’ll remove your clearance for this mission.” Bucky nods, knowing the best thing he can do right now is keep as calm as possible, panic will only make things worse. “As I was saying, I’m not willing to release Zemo from the raft, but we can make this brother of his think we are. When he next contacts us, we’ll let him believe we’re following what he is asking of us. Everyone got it?” 

The room fills with a mix of mumbles, mostly consisting of ‘yes sirs’ and ‘got it’s’. Bucky stays silent. He’d finally found a girl he liked and she ends up in this situation, the guilt he was feeling was worse than anything he’d ever felt before, including the years of physical and mental trauma he’s been through. 

Sam’s soft voice breaks him out of his thoughts, “Buck? You okay?” For the first time since he learned of your danger Bucky’s face softens, and his eyes begin to grow wet. 

“I don’t wanna lose her Sam.” Sam might not understand how Bucky feels this strongly about you in such a short amount of time but one thing he understands is that you are important to Bucky and that means you are important to him.

“We’ll get her back. Come on. Let’s suit up so we’re ready.”

—--

You made the mistake of asking for some water which resulted in you being slapped across the face with the back of a gun and tied up on a rickety old chair .You hadn’t spoken since. You’d accepted that it was just a matter of time before they killed you and part of you just wanted them to get it over with. No matter how hard you tried you couldn't stop the tears falling down your cheeks and these men did not like that at all.

“Tell me again why we’re keeping her alive? Her crying is starting to get real boring.” One guy asks the other. 

“Just shut her up will ya? I need to call them again” You try so hard to stop yourself from whimpering but the pain from the rope around your hands and the ache in your head hurts so bad and a couple of seconds later a rag is being stuffed in your mouth. 

“Darling.. You get what this means?” He lifts his gun up and trails it along the side of your face. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” You hold your breath, terrified that even a slight movement will make things worse. “Good girl.” His smile, it’s something you don’t think you’ll ever forget if you make it out of here alive. 

The other man dials a number and puts it on speaker. “You got my brother yet?” 

“He’s on his way to us. First we need some proof that Y/N is still alive.” 

The man walks over to you slowly and takes the rag slightly out your mouth. “Tell them sweetheart.” You couldn't answer even if you wanted to, the fear being too much. He whips his gun against your head again making you cry out again. “Don’t make me ask again.” 

“I.. I’m alive.” You had no idea who you were talking to, it was a voice you didn’t recognise but one you’d never forget, maybe, just maybe they’d be the one who saved you.

—---

“I.. I’m alive.” Bucky nearly breaks down right there at the sound of your voice, Sam's hand lands on his shoulder and squeezes gently. 

“Why are you doing this?” Fury asks, he doesn’t really care why, he knows people like these guys have no moral compass but he’s trying to make the call last as long as he can so they can track it. 

“You took my brother away from me, I’m only getting him back.”

“At the cost of an innocent life?” 

“You mean her?” He scoffs. “Can’t be that innocent if she's dating the winter soldier.” Sam can feel Bucky’s shoulders tense under his touch at the mention of his past life. “Stop wasting my time, just get my brother back to me. I’ll send you an address in 1 hour. Be there or the girl dies.” The call ends before Fury can reply.

“We got them!” An agent Bucky doesn’t know shouts up from the back of the room. “Sir, we’ve got them.” 

Bucky immediately makes his way over to where the agent is sitting and tries to read the computer but has no luck, it’s all in code. “Where is she?” 

“Water Crescent Garage, on the other side of the city.” She replies, as she continues typing. “The jet will get you there in 15 minutes.”

“Let’s go.” Bucky’s out of the room before anyone can respond, running through the halls and reaching the jet before anyone else.

“Barnes, I’ll remind you. Stay calm or you’re off.”

“I know. I’m calm” He was most certainly calm. “Can we please just go?” His voice is dripping in desperation, he just wants you safe.

—-------

“Looks like Soldier wants you back, hmm?” The taller guy asks you, knowing you can’t answer him. “Maybe I’ll see what he’s getting every night huh?” He begins to run his fingers over your bare shoulder, nearing your neck and beginning to squeeze slightly. You try to move away but the rope keeps you in place. “This what he likes doing to you? He likes having control? He likes to own you?” He brings his other hand towards the zip on the side of your dress before an alarm stops him. He looks around to the other guy in the room. “Stay with her. I’ll go.”

The other guy grunts in response. Once the taller guy has left he walks towards you, gun in his hand. “You better hope your boyfriend isn’t trying something sweetheart. It won’t end well.” You don’t understand why these guys think you and Bucky were so serious, you’d only had one date. 

You start to hear gunshots in the distance, getting closer and closer to you every second. You were praying the good guys were winning and that they were here to save you. 

A few minutes pass when the door to your room bursts open and none other than Captain America himself walks in. It takes him less than 15 seconds to disarm and knock out the guy who was left with you, although it feels like longer for you. “Buck, I’ve got her.” He walks over to you and removes the cloth in your mouth. 

Bucky was here. “Bucky?” 

“Hey Y/N, I’m here to help okay?” He begins to untie the rope around your hands, careful to not hurt you. “Bucky’s on his way. It’s over.” 

As Sam was untying your feet Bucky runs into the room and rushes over to you. His heart breaks when he sees you upclose. Your cheeks that were so rosy just last night were now white as a ghost, your lips once red were now blue and bruised, the sparkle he had just seen hours ago in your eyes was now replaced with fear.

You stand up with the help of Sam and look towards Bucky. 

“Are you okay? Where does it hurt? Sam, call the doc, let her know we’re coming.” Bucky's eyes are moving around your body, scouting out every injury he can find and taking note of it.

The only thing you can bring yourself to say is thank you, your lip wobbles as you say it and your voice is shaky with each word but Bucky understands. “Tha.. Thank you for saving me.” 

He slowly reaches out to hold you against him, giving you enough time to tell him to stop if you want to. He wraps his arm around you, carefully avoiding anywhere that looks injured. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why they came after you. I promise as soon as I found out what was happening I started looking for you. I’m so sorry.” 

You shake your head, he doesn't owe you an apology, none of this was his fault. The motion only makes you feel nauseous, and you feel as if you might throw up if you move anymore. “I can’t. I can’t.. I feel sick.” Bucky stops as soon as you ask. 

“Can I carry you?”

“Please.” You were embarrassed to be feeling this weak but he didn’t seem bothered by it. He just seemed sad. 

—---

After you get seen by the avenger’s doctor and prescribed some pretty strong painkillers you finally arrive home. Bucky tried to get you to stay in for longer, he was worried you would be feeling worse once the shock had worn off but you insisted on coming home. You needed to be in your own space. 

“I’ll make you some food, you wanna get changed out of those?” You weren’t really hungry but you couldn't bring yourself to say no. You did want to badly get changed out of the clothes Natasha had lent you, they were very tight. 

“Thank you.” 

Bucky wanted to tell you to stop thanking him, you should be angry at him and it was killing him that you were treating him with so much kindness after everything you’d been through at his fault.

Bucky makes you a sandwich, knowing you probably wouldn't be too hungry. “It’s just to get some food in you. Some water too.” He said as he handed you a plate and glass of water. 

The next words that left Bucky’s mouth were ones he’d never wanted to say but it didn’t feel right staying with you after what he’d put you through. “Do you need anything else before I go?” 

You nearly choke as you swallow that bite. He gets down to his knee and looks up at you. “You okay?” You immediately start crying, not even trying to hide it. “Hey, what's wrong?” You hadn’t been apart from Bucky since he found you, and now that he was leaving you felt so scared again.

“I don’t wanna be alone.” His heart breaks again at how soft your voice comes out, almost as if you were afraid to speak.

He wants nothing more than to stay with you, keep you safe but he feels that with every second he spends with you the more you'll be at risk. 

“Is there anyone I can call to stay with you?” 

“Could you?” You almost whisper to him. 

“What was that?” He asks softly. 

“Could you stay?” 

“You really want me to?” 

“I do.” 

He almost, almost says yes before he remembers how you looked when he found you in that room. He stands up and backs away a little. “I don’t think I should.” 

You try to stand up and walk towards him but get a bit dizzy as you do, grabbing onto his arm for balance. “Why not?” 

“Doll, sit down.” He guides you gently back onto the couch. “It’s my fault you got hurt.”

“No Bucky, that’s not true. I really like you Bucky, and whilst this may not have been the second date we had in mind, I don’t want to lose you. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same.”

“I never said I didn't feel the same way, I just.. I just can't put you in any more danger.”

“The way I see it, you saved me from danger. And I know now that you’ll always be there to save me. Please stay?” He nods. 

“You’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay.”

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you are jungkook’s religion and he wants to be your passenger princess.

> fluff / wc: 3k

> warnings: there’s like a three second earthworm cameo lol, jk is living his best life in this bicycle date <3

note: i loved writing this + it reminded me of this drabble i suggest reading it too :( pls tell jk to stop being so cute my heart can’t handle it :( oh and imagine the current jungkook with his long hair and pretty bangs btw <3 reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated :]

—

“hmm?” you hum in question when jungkook’s tattooed hand pushes up your elbow. the book you’ve been reading uncovers his head lying on your lap, acting as a paperweight for the pastel yellow summer dress adorning your figure.

“humor me, okay?”

in the midst of his pensive facade, his lips are curved into a lazy smile, almost undetectable if only you aren’t so close that you can vividly see the scar on his cheek and the texture of his honey skin. his face is a little puffy and his eyes are hazy, adorably so, courtesy of the nap he woke up from ten minutes ago.

there are scattered speckles of sunlight painted all over the two of you, in the shape of the gaps between the leaves of the tall tree supporting your back. the wind gently blows through his hair and the edges of the blue gingham picnic blanket spread out beneath you, as if the earth is sighing dreamily at the han riverside scenery.

“would you still love me if i became a worm?”

“what?”

you cover the lower half of your face with the book when a snort bluntly escapes you, and uncontrollable giggles racking your body follow soon after. they prompt the thin strap of your dress to fall off the curve of your right shoulder, and your boyfriend swiftly swoops in, slipping his index finger through it to put it back into position.

“would you still love me if i became a worm?!” he repeats the question louder in faux irritation, but he can’t conceal a toothy grin because your laughter is contagious, a melody that brings him unfathomable joy. an echo that will remind him he was once here, with you, a moment in time locked away in the palace of his most precious memories.

he grasps your wrists to his chest to confront you, and you completely lose your weakened grip on the book. unshed tears gather at the corners of your eyes as your laughter refuses to cease.

“listen- you’re cute, but i need to take the internet away from you.”

his doe eyes grow rounder, whiny voice with a lisp tugging at your heartstrings because you never not find every little thing about him painfully endearing. “baby, stop avoiding the topic. i demand honest answers!”

“of course i would! love doesn’t go away that easily!” you yield to his stubborn need to pry the answers from you. “but it depends on my mood that day, and maybe how you even became a worm in the first place? uh, i’d build you a garden and a little house. oh! and even crochet some cute little outfits for you according to the seasons, keep you warm and safe so you don’t have to hide in the soil . . .”

it’s true that you’ve been dipping your toes into crocheting nowadays, one of your works in progress being a sweater for bam in early preparation for this year’s winter. however, the stars in his eyes ignited by your sweet rambling transform into a dull glimmer of disappointment when he hears the horrifying continuation of your sentence.

“or if it’s a beauty and the beast situation and you got cursed for being bad, then i’d put you in a bucket and go fishing.”

he abruptly sits up, sending your book tumbling down on his lap and . . . you lose your page number just like that.

“fishing? fishing?! isn’t that too harsh? what happened to for better or for worse?” dumbfounded, he frantically shakes his head. “what are you going to say when bam goes looking for his daddy?!”

you tilt your head to the side, highly amused at the man who turned out to only want a sweet response from you despite spitting out the question in a joking manner.

you look at him with wide, innocent eyes. “that you went fishing?”

he pouts somberly, staring into the far distance, where the blue sky stretches endlessly. “bro, you’d expect to know somebody because you live with them and you raise a dog together.”

he heaves a dramatic sigh as he raises both arms to push his hair back, long fingers smoothly gliding across the dark locks. the sleeves of his oversized black t-shirt bunch around his shoulders to reveal more of the tattoos covering the entirety of his right arm, but then his bangs fall back into place like dominoes, and he does it all over again.

“oh, my baby. come on.” you inch closer to hug his waist, planting a kiss on his cheek before leaning your chin on his shoulder. “you’re really just going to ignore the garden and crochet part?”

he overtly ignores your words with a scoff, but he puts a hand over your interlocked ones so he won’t slip out of your embrace as he reaches out for a stick among the lush green grass. your loud gasp beside his ear makes him snicker as he scoops up the earthworm that has crawled dangerously close to his white and washed denim nike air jordans. aside from the cover of ‘the seven husbands of evelyn hugo’ hovering above his face, he was also greeted by this unwordly creature when he woke up from his nap. still sluggish as his body and brain gradually recovered to their full functions, he quietly watched it crawl around the spacious picnic blanket, half out of his mind. well, that was until he got bored.

“go- you need to go. get away from here and travel far where you won’t be found. you’re not safe in this place!” he cries out with his roleplay mode turned on, garnering a weird look from a passerby.

“that’s not far away. at all.” you remark teasingly as he gently sets it down behind the tree, less than two feet away.

“i only showed it a new direction. it can manage on its own. the lessons in life are sprinkled along the treacherous journey.” he scrunches his nose as he chuckles, placing back the stick exactly where he found it. “okay, i’m awake! let’s go ride a bike now!”

“i’m already on chapter 40, though.” you sadly mumble to yourself, having enjoyed the inner peace that enveloped you a while ago, when you finally overcame your month-long reading slump with the meditative aid of nature’s generous spring.

your arms automatically drop down to your sides when he energetically springs up in excitement. he picks up the handwoven picnic basket, opening one of the lids and pushing aside the emptied lunch boxes to safely tuck your book inside.

“baaabe, move.”

“huh?” he makes a noise of confusion when he feels the fabric get tugged underneath his feet. “oh- right, wait.”

he walks backwards at your command, allowing you to remove the rest of the picnic blanket off the grass. he patiently waits as you fold it into half, and half, and half, until it becomes small enough to fit in the basket he’s holding open.

he’s been unable to keep his eyes off you since this morning— glancing, looking, admiring your facial features and the way your eyebrows furrow in the slightest when you’re focused on a task (he doesn’t think you know this at all); down to your neck, and your chest exposed by the low square neckline of your dress. you were pouting in the car because you forgot to wear a necklace, exclaiming ‘i knew i forgot something!’ but he thinks your bare skin under the sunlight is priceless compared to gold. he loves your legs in shorts, dresses, skirts; hell, his boxers— loves how you carry yourself with grace and finesse wherever you go. past the walls he built around his heart, didn’t have to make them crumble because you are the key.

his lips have touched every inch of your body a couple million times that it has become more of a religion, putting mere familiarity into shame.

he puts down the basket on the grass after you slip the blanket inside, whispering a tender “baby, come here,” as he guides you towards the tree, pinning your back on it.

“why?” you gape at him in curiosity, hands grasping at his hips because you subconsciously trust jungkook to keep you steady more than a tree deeply rooted in the earth.

“the straps won’t stop falling off. i’ll fix it.” now that he’s speaking in a hushed tone, you can hear the roughness around the edges of his voice caused by sleep.

he deliberately towers over you to shield you from strangers’ eyes, pulling at the strings wrapped around your right shoulder to undo the ribbon sitting on top of it. he maintains a secure grip, wary of the neckline of your dress sliding further down as he makes a knot, and then another to finish off the ribbon.

you gaze at him lovingly, an affectionate smile lighting up your face. sometimes you forget how attentive your boyfriend is. you confess that you meant to tie the straps a little loosely, but you didn’t intend for them to fall off so often.

“thank you.”

he responds to your lively chirp with a kiss on the lips, your mixed berries flavored lip balm staining his. his tongue instantaneously darts out to give it a taste, the mole under his bottom lip making an appearance as he separates the straps of your tote bag from the second pair of strings.

the wind blows once more, three times stronger than the last, and jungkook tightly twists the strings around his two longest fingers as he waits for it to pass. you squeeze your eyes shut, forehead colliding with his chest to hide from the dust that could potentially blind you.

the wind eases, and he clicks his tongue as he continues fixing your dress, repeating the same steps with thoughtful precision. the back of his hands graze your skin every now and then, soft and smooth from the skincare products he smears on them to apply to his face.

“ah, this is insane. good thing we already had lunch before it got this windy.”

“i kind of love it. the earth feels so alive.”

your breath hitches when he ducks down to press a chaste kiss on where your neck and shoulder meet. the warmth of his lips contrasts the coldness of the ring pierced at the corner of his mouth. the intimate sound chimes in your ear, the sensation sending tingles to your lower abdomen.

“mhmm, know you do. you always see the good in things.” in me, the words he wants to add hang unbalanced on the tip of his tongue.

—

by the time you decide that you want to rent an electric scooter instead of a bicycle, jungkook is already paddling towards you while wheeling one by his side.

he enthusiastically shouts, “let me be the passenger princess today!”

and a wave of flashbacks from two years ago wash over you as he draws nearer— when he poured his blood, sweat, and tears into eight tortorous days of teaching you how to ride a bicycle because you forgot how to. you’d expect him to take that as a very telling sign not to ride one with you, but the man standing infront of you seems enraptured by the idea alone.

“sure, but give me a kiss first.” you bat your eyelashes coyly, and he doesn’t waste time in granting your request. he pulls your face closer by the back of your neck, lips crashing against yours for a kiss that robs the air from your lungs. and what a heavenly way to die.

“happy? or more?” he raises an eyebrow flirtatiously.

“greedy boy.” you scold him, lightly pushing his cheek to the opposite direction, and he dryly chuckles at your choice of words. fuck, you know him too well.

“you carry this, love.” you transfer the basket hanging on your forearm to his tattooed one, and your thumb briefly skims across the indents on your skin left by the pattern of the handles.

“i thought you wanted to ride one yourself, though?”

“changed my mind when i saw there’s a backseat.” he sticks out his tongue playfully, laying hold of your tote bag and putting it in the basket between the handles infront.

you roll your eyes as you climb on the seat, putting one foot on the pedal and anchoring the other on the asphalt road. you release a heavy sigh. “made myself all pretty today not knowing i’ll end up sweaty and gross.”

“aish! my butt! it hurts!” his moans and grunts of pain are accompanied by cackles as he shifts on the metal seat behind you. once he deems himself comfortable enough, he wraps his arms around your waist for . . . hopefully, obvious safety reasons. “damn, okay. there we go. i’m ready. sweep me off my feet, baby.”

you swat his hand lightly. “be careful what you wish for.”

“you’re cute when you try to be mean.” he squeezes your sides as an alternative for your cheeks.

“aren’t you scared that i might drive us off into the river? not even a little bit?!”

instead of pressuring you into not making an uncalculated mistake, he simply says “so what? i can swim.”

—

“shit, shit, shit! i feel like i’m falling! b-babe- are you doing this on purpose now?!” jungkook erupts into another fit of childlike giggles and high-pitched squeals as you glide across a curve and the bicycle tilts slightly to the side. your hips occassionally rises from the seat so you can push down at the pedals with more effort, spurring moments of him loosely clinging to you.

“maybe? you enjoy stuff like this!” you grin mischievously to yourself.

his long legs are starting to feel sore from having to keep them lifted off the ground, but this is infinitely better than putting them on either side of the bicycle and risking the possibility of getting his balls smushed. besides, he is enamored by the fact that he is face-to-face with the perfect view of the dancing trees, the babbling river, and the bustling city life on the opposite side.

he taps the circle button on his phone screen to end the panorama, swiping to the left to switch to a video. he allows the camera to capture the rest of the beautiful scenery before flipping it to the front.

“i’m having so much fun! i’m never sitting at the front of the bike again- never!” he yells at the reflection of himself, hair covering almost his entire face. the sight makes him laugh heartily. “ay, i look ridiculous with the wind slapping my face. fuck, what is this? my hair- it’s driving me crazy-”

he aggressively shakes his head to get them out of the way, regretting not tying up his hair before you took off.

“then what about me?! i’m fighting against it!” you yell back, squinted eyes persevering the ruthless gusts of wind. the only difference is that you can feel it sweeping through your hair, through your dress, as if you’re soaring and you’re free, not running away but heading somewhere.

“but you’re going to enjoy it when we go back and it’s behind you! trust me!”

this is the first time jungkook is the bicycle passenger since god knows when. he doesn’t remember it being this marvelous, thrilling in its most wholesome form. meanwhile, this is the first time you’re riding a bicycle with a passenger. perhaps you made the same mistake you kept on making two years ago: kicking your feet as if you’re in a race, thinking speed equals to balance. he had to remind you to calm down, slow down, stop looking down all over again. that was at the first minute. your anxieties have been long gone, quelled by your boyfriend’s sheer delight radiating for miles and miles. his happiness is a bubble expanding in size as the wind blows relentlessly.

his phone is returned to the confines of his deep pocket after he deems himself satisfied with the memories he recorded in the device. he properly hugs your waist again, resting his head on the expanse of your back, thin cotton against the apple of his cheek. his heavy eyelids flutter shut. he breathes in, chest rising and pushing against the tough handles of the basket hanging pretty on his forearm, and he breathes out. with his sense of sight idle, it almost feels like you’re flying him to outer space.

“jungkook, you better not fall asleep there. i’m serious.” you sternly remind him, panic meter going up when you notice more of his weight gradually limping against yours.

“yah! you- i love you; i won’t do that to you. don’t be scared.” he chuckles, heart swelling with fondness for the concern lacing your voice.

you melt at his charming reassurance. “i love you too.”

“nyam.”

“did you just bite me?” you whip your head to the back in suspicion when you feel a faint sting blossoming on your shoulder.

he innocently looks at the bite mark he left on your skin, and when he tilts up his chin to catch a glimpse of your face, your eyes have already refocused on the bicycle path. ”i did . . . you taste like what i imagine the sunshine would taste.”

“is that a good thing?”

“yeah, good. like honey.”

“thank my body wash for that.” you giggle, and jungkook yearns to see your face, but he shall marvel at the rows of pink and white flowers approaching ahead in the meantime.

“no, that’s not it.” a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he corrects you in a voice so soft it almost breaks. “it’s you. just you.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added or removed :D

—

[songmingisthighs]

Lonely Breeze

group : ateez

pairing : poly!yungi × reader

genre : angst, hurt/comfort

wc : 3.1 k

tw : angst, poly relationship, heavy stuff maybe; relationship issues, psychological issues, mentions of blood (injury), mentions of anxiety, ngl I'm just rambling at this point so if this is not your thing, pls skip lol.

a/n : this is why i don't listen to anything produced by mingi. I'm textbook kubler-ross every single time and idk how to feel about it. and yea i wrote this in 2 hours

buy me coffee ?

It had been three days since you ran away.

Can it be counted as running away? You're a full-grown adult with intact mental faculties and 'running away' sounds rather juvenile.

Life had gotten too hard and you were overwhelmed. Despite having wonderful boyfriends like Yunho and Mingi, this time you truly didn't know what to do but you knew that you had to get out of there before you completely exploded.

To be honest, Yunho and Mingi were one of the reasons you had to run away.

It was nothing against them per se but you felt bad for having to always rely on them all the time.

The three of you met on the cusp of adulthood, at a dance academy workshop. The three of you didn't mean to join that joint workshop because each of you was from different area branches of the academy but you all just clicked. From then, you and they planned your lives together even down to which university you three will attend. But it wasn't until nearing the senior year that you three decided to pursue a romantic relationship. You still remembered it like it was yesterday. How you, Mingi, and Yunho join your other friends on a countryside trip to celebrate the end of the 6th semester only to find out that the cabin was at maxed capacity so you three had to rent a small, dusty place on your own. Little did you know, you, Yunho and Mingi had each planned separately to come clean about your feelings. You were the first to confess after having a particularly tiring clean-up session (just so you won't inhale the dust that had accumulated in the cabin), accidentally telling them how you could see the three of you in your 30s cleaning the apartment you will share together. You remembered the dread that washed down on you when Mingi asked what you meant. Like the reliable pillar he is, Yunho was the one who helped you calm yourself down and told you that he could see the same thing, how he felt the same way about you and Mingi. Then Mingi confessed his own feelings and from then on, you three were even more inseparable than you had ever been before.

While it surprised people that the three of you decided to commit to a relationship that was far from orthodox, no one was really fazed. Everyone who knew the three of you had at least assumed you three were sleeping together which was why no one approached either one of you romantically all through university.

Some called it fate, some called it dedication.

You believed in the former more than the latter.

But recently?

You feared that you had trapped them.

Maybe it was a quarter-life crisis but you suddenly felt nauseous at the thought of your life. It wasn't like things were falling apart. On the contrary, the pieces of your life were finally falling into place; you were starting to really shine at work, and you were finally able to start saving whilst resolving some of your financial issues. Your relationship with your boyfriends was even at its peak, there was more love than the three of you ever needed and you three were beyond happy.

Then one day, one day a week ago, things crashed down on you.

You didn't know what it was, you didn't know what caused it, but you suddenly couldn't breathe. You remembered holding onto the bathroom sink while your body trembled, tears streaming down your face like a busted faucet and you couldn't move. The cool bathroom suddenly felt suffocating and the sound of your boyfriends laughing just on the other side of the door felt deafening. It took you a long while to break free from that state and you only managed to do so because Mingi had knocked on the bathroom door asking for you to let him in because he needed to use the bathroom. That night, you found yourself unable to sleep and even finding their presence too much for you to handle even after switching position with Mingi so you could be at the edge. You had slipped away and cried yourself to sleep on the couch, sobbing silently until fatigue took over.

That whole week you were distant until three days ago when you came home from work to see a note on the table from Yunho who let you know that they were out for a bit to get something special for you.

One second you were pouring yourself a glass of water to calm your trembling hands and the next, you were in a train with a duffle bag heading to the countryside, cradling your hand that had a gash and fresh dried blood.

When you arrived at the dark and lonely cabin, you finally broke down, wailing into the emptiness as you hugged yourself in the middle of the room.

Neither of them was aware of what happened.

Or so you thought.

The first person who noticed how distant you became was Yunho. He had sensed that something was wrong since that day in the bathroom. He could never forget the look on your face as you stepped out. Your usually lively eyes were empty and you didn't even react when Mingi pressed a kiss on your forehead. At first, he thought that you might have had a bad day and that you were just not in the mood but as the days passed, you seemed more silent and distant. Yunho wanted to ask what was wrong but he didn't want to make it seem like he was prying so he tried to let you know that he was there for you in different ways; soft touches, words of affirmation, little presents in the form of your favourite drink or plans of going on a trip. He wanted you to have all the space you needed.

Mingi on the other hand immediately jumped into worrying about you. Suddenly he kept texting about your whereabouts and your feelings. He had even asked if he should pick you up early from work and even showed that he was already in front of your building. Mingi knew what it felt like to be all alone stuck in a headspace and it had taken him so long and finally relent, letting you and Yunho pull him out and believing you two that you were there for him. So he wanted to repay all that especially since you were the one who gently washed his tear-stained face and slowly fed him until he regained his own strength. He remembered the pit and he didn't like the idea of you being there.

So when they were met with an empty apartment the day you left, they went into panic mode. The sight of a couple droplets of blood near the broken glass and your work bag thrown carelessly on the couch was enough to send them into a frenzy and sadly, they even turned on each other.

Yunho wanted to calm himself and Mingi down first because neither of them even knew what happened and where you had gone to while Mingi, pointing that out, stated that they both needed to catch you before you could even go far. Then they fought over the fact that they were fighting when they should be looking for you and it ended with Mingi leaving the apartment when Yunho ran into your shared room, trying to charge his phone to see if you had contacted either of them.

Essentially, the three of you were alone at that moment in time. Nothing made sense and none of you had any ways of getting an answer.

You were alone in the cabin, crying your eyes out about... Nothing. You felt stupid for feeling bad over your life that was going rather well and you felt bad for leaving your boyfriends without an explanation. It was simple, you could've simply grabbed the phone and texted either one of them to let them know... Something. You could tell them that you needed time alone. But do you really? You could tell them that you were sorry. But were you really? You could tell them that you were overwhelmed and that they were not making your situation any better by being so supportive. But were they really? You felt like you were not worthy to even send them a text because who the fuck were you to be acting like that and then asking for understanding?

Mingi was running around aimlessly with worry sitting deep in the pit of his stomach. He had gone to several of your friends' places, friends you trusted who wouldn't blab about your disappearance. He hated being in a state of not knowing because he felt helpless. He hated being helpless. Mingi was not a helpless person so he didn't want to be associated with the feeling. First things first, he had to find you. But where could you be? Why had he never taken the time to ask you places you wanted to go to, thinking that you had gone alone because he was too busy with himself. Seeds of doubt planted by the negativity of the situation started sprouting its ugliness. Was your leaving his fault? Was he too self-involved to not have taken the time to dedicate his attention to you once in a while? Was he taking too much of Yunho and your attention? His head hurts.

Yunho, in defeat, slumped against the bed you three shared. Your pillar, your rock finally broke down and with each sob, his mind found it even harder to make sense of things. All the decision in his life was made on a strong foundation, Yunho was a sure man, and he didn't regret the choices he made and the path he took. But was he too sure of himself this time? Out of the three of you, Yunho was always the tie-breaker because he makes his decisions carefully and with logic. He never found any reason to resent that part of him until you left. Did he miss something? Were there signs that you had needed a different kind of treatment? Had he gotten too overconfident this time? Had his so-called level-headedness cost him something important?

Whatever it was you hoped could happen or appear by running away alone never came. Each hour you spent trying to make sense of things or finding a way to calm yourself only made it clear that you were all alone.

Dark thoughts started plaguing your brain, skewing your happy memories into something that was far from reality. The memories you had of banding together into a trio with Yunho and Mingi turned into fear that maybe you had inserted yourself into their friendship. After all, they found themselves together first before you bumped into Yunho and told him how you were alone, effectively guilt-tripping him. The thought of how they have always had your back turned into anxiety that maybe you had leaned on them too much. You relied on them more than you should and now you were a burden to them. The things you told them, should you have told them? Especially the dark ones, the ones that stemmed from your bad mental state. Were you manipulating them without realizing it? Were your promises of the future even really promises? How could you be sure that it wasn't you pressuring your expectations to them?

It had been three days. Were you still alone because they thought you were better off alone? That they too, needed time away from you? Maybe you never needed your own space, maybe it was your subconscious telling you that you needed to give them space from you.

Loud bangs broke the train of thought and the more you came back to reality, the more you recognized the voices.

"Mingi?" you inhaled sharply, seeing the face of one of your lovers on the window as he banged the wall.

Thinking that you were hallucinating, you turned your head away and stood up. There was no way he could be there.

More bangs were heard and when you turned around again, you saw both Mingi who was now with Yunho staring at you from the window.

"(y/n), open up!" Yunho called out.

Normally, you would register his voice as is but your brain, in its unstable state, thought that he was demanding you to let him in. Mingi too, though he was only standing there looking at you, sending knocks on the window as he wanted to hold you once again, your brain took that as him glaring at you and being in fury.

Anxiety shot up and your head shook violently. "N-no..." you whimpered, bottom lip trembling as you took a step back only to trip on a carpet and fall.

The sight of you on the floor caused Mingi and Yunho to abandon all reasons and logic and all they wanted to do was to help you. They started banging and trying to pry the door open, needing to get inside to be there for you but all it did was send you into a deeper spiral without them realizing. Your body curled into a ball while they were yelling for you to open the door. The more you heard them, the worse you felt and before you knew it, you were yelling for them to leave you be, leave you alone, you didn't deserve them.

It wasn't until you started yelling at how you should have never burdened yourself on them that they stopped banging on the door. Their eyes welled with tears hearing the things, untrue things, you hurled at yourself. It hurt them to hear you think so low of yourself like that. You were everything to them, you were something so precious and special and to think that you believe they would be better without you, it was like a serrated knife had been plunged into their hearts multiple times.

"That's not true (y/n), please..." Mingi rested his forehead on the door as his eyes closed slowly, letting tears wet his cheeks, "Please let me in, I... We... (y/n), please," he whimpered.

Looking around, Yunho remembered that the owner of the cabin had told him about a spare key a long time ago. Thinking that it was worth a shot, Yunho was glad to see that there was still a key hidden under the cushion of the porch lounger.

You were too busy bawling to realize that Yunho had opened the door successfully which was a good thing because had you realized, you would have done something stupid like run out into the field in the cold January breeze.

Mingi tried to rush inside only for Yunho to stop him, holding onto his arm as he watched you cry with a broken heart.

"Yunho, wha-"

Wordlessly, Yunho pulled Mingi down to sit in the doorway while maintaining his gaze on you.

Though confused, Mingi followed along, sitting down and looking between Yunho and you.

"We should go in there. She needs us," Mingi said, voice cracking as he shook Yunho slightly, trying to convince him to go inside. He knew he could definitely go inside himself, but for some reason, he felt like he shouldn't.

For once, Yunho didn't give any explanation and just shook his head one more time. Soon, however, his hand took one of Mingi's and they sat there with you with hands linked, waiting for you to... Well, they weren't sure what they were waiting for but they were sure they would understand soon.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You must have passed out from crying because you remembered feeling cold and alone but the moment you came to again, you realized that this time, you were... Warm.

Sitting up, you noticed that the skies outside were dark and when you turned your body around, you saw Yunho and Mingi attending to the fireplace. The cabin was dark save for the illumination provided by the warm fire.

It took a bit of time for your eyes to adjust but when your eyes really focused, you noticed that Mingi was holding onto your favourite blanket that you forgot to bring. How did they even got inside?

For a moment, you only watched them do their thing, comfortably sitting in silence as if enjoying conversation done by the soft crackles of the fireplace.

Mingi felt something on the back of his neck and when he turned his body slightly, he saw that you were staring at him with puffy eyes. His instinct told him to run to you and envelop you in a hug and tell you how worried he was and how much he regretted things that he thought he did. But his better judgement stopped him from making a move forward. Instead, he cracked a gentle smile and ducked his head down, carefully opening your folded blanket as a silent invitation.

Your body moved automatically towards him and before you knew it, you were suddenly sat in between Mingi and Yunho.

While Mingi draped you with your blanket, Yunho made final adjustments on the firewood before he sat down close to you and even moved so that you and he were shoulder-to-shoulder.

You were sure that they were going to ask what happened, what was wrong with you, why you ran away. But minutes passed and all there was was... Silence. You were sure that when you saw them again you'd be anxious because you had to explain yourself but all you felt was a sense of calm. It was rather ridiculous but you could feel the anxiety melting off of your body.

"I'm tired," finally you opened up even though your voice cracked due to how hoarse your throat felt. "I'm so tired," you exhaled as you closed your eyes, your bottom lip trembling once again.

This time, Yunho moved to sidle even closer to you so he could guide your head gently to rest on his chest. "You... Can you find it in your heart... To rest in mine?" Yunho spoke up finally, voice cracking as well. Mingi then moved closer until he was able to wrap his hands around your waist whilst leaning his head on Yunho's strong shoulder, effectively caging you securely between them. "You can rest in our hearts, love," he added, ducking to press a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

Nothing else needed to be said because nothing else should. The three of you had been through so much together in your youth that it felt like you were all alone. But, with the stars as your witness and the fire as your companion, you realized something that was always true. Even lonely, you were always together and your inadequacies made you whole. While pain exists and will always find its way back to remind you of your faults, it allows you to remember who and what you are, but most importantly, what you now have from that.

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[content-d3leted]

Undertale is actually the best game of all time. (Prepare yourself for some rambling lol)

Its characters are so unique and loveable, and the plot and the universe its in has so much depth, there's so many easter eggs throughout the game, all the different AUs are so creative, and the soundtrack is AMAZING-the songs are so incredibly intertwined with one another with all the motifs throughout the music, it is just an all-round immaculate franchise, and I adore it.

I can't quite remember how long my interest in it lasted, maybe 2 years? But I first discovered it in September 2019, by watching jacksepticye's playthrough he did in 2015, where I became completely hooked on it! I remember learning all the names of the songs in Undertale's soundtrack by heart in chronological order, and also drawing the characters for hours on end!! Genuinely one of the most enjoyable experiences of my life.

My favourite character is Papyrus (NYEH-HEH-HEH!!), with Mettaton coming in at a close 2nd place. But to be honest, every single one of the characters are brilliant!!

For about 4 years I've been trying to kill Sans (unsuccesfully), but I can almost get past the last stage by now, so thats progress at least..but tbh it was such a horrible feeling to murder everyone else, especially Papyrus, on the genocide route- but it had to be done I suppose.

Undertale means ALOT to me, especially since it helped me get through some super difficult times back when I was in school, due to really bad depression etc. It also helped me make an irl friend too (who is now one of my best friends)! So yeah, undertale truly means the world to me.

And deltarune is just the same, completely incredible!! The battle theme (Rude Buster) is one of the greatest game songs I've ever heard, and I often listen to it on repeat. I had a short second phase of undertale/deltarune a year after my first one, where I became obsessed with Sweet, Cap'n and K_K. They are such good characters aaaaa I love them!!! I can't wait for chapter 3 of deltarune to be released soon!!

But omg the undertale/deltarune soundtracks are so fun to play on instruments (especially piano for me), especially fallen down, home, your best friend, death by glamour...the list goes on lol.

Undertale also introduced me to my first ever gay people so I have Undyne, Alphys and Mettaton to thank for making me realise I was in the LGBT+ community!!

So in conclusion, Undertale is the best game. Yes.

Why are you reading this surely you have better things to do

[my-my-my]

Could you talk about Aizen"s relationship with Shinji? What he thinks about him? etc

Sure! This ask gave me an itch to reread TBTP because (much to my dismay), I wish we saw Aizen and Shinji interact during TYBW. I hope we see some added content in the anime, but I'm not holding my breath lol.

This is going to be more of a ramble/word dump so I apologize if it's not cohesive!

TW: none!

I'm of the opinion that if there was anyone Aizen wanted to understand him (outside of Urahara), it would have been Shinji. I specifically think about this panel and how interesting it is that Kubo gave Aizen a sad look in his eyes. We don't really see sadness in Aizen, there's only one other scene where I vaguely recall him looking more sad/disappointed (vs him being bored/disappointed).

(This is from Ch -316/TBTP 10)

We know from Shinji's side, he was always wary and somewhat cautious around Aizen. He never trusted him fully and kept him at arms length for everything. On one hand, this leads him to his downfall, but I also read it as Shinji having an immediate gut reaction to not trust Aizen and Shinji could never shake that off. He can be professional with Aizen, but he mentally cannot handle anything beyond that. Something about Aizen felt so fundamentally off to Shinji that he could not get close to him.

So I wonder if this bothered Aizen as well... Aizen is someone who meticulously crafted his persona. He was known to be kind, hardworking and diligent, but something about this persona immediately gave a warning to Shinji.

But I'm not gonna defend Aizen and say he crafted the "perfect" persona - because even he (in a roundabout way) admits he didn't. Even subconscious traits of the "real" Aizen comes through with every interaction Aizen and Shinji would have had with each other, but because of the wall Shinji mentally puts between the two of them, he cannot discern these traits. So while this adds to Aizen's "loneliness complex", it gives him leeway to add in stand-ins with Kyoka Suigetsu. And that's what disappoints Aizen at his core - even his own Captain can't recognize the little things about him.

And this leads me to think that Aizen and Shinji were Lieutenant and Captain for a few centuries at least. We know that at Nanao's graduation from the academy, Aizen was already the Lieutenant of Squad 5:

(Ch. 652/The Theatre Suicide Scene 6)

So yes, Shinji may have had time to "understand" Aizen - but he doesn't. Even at the start of TBTP, Aizen asks Shinji what he's listening to and while Aizen doesn't understand jazz, instead of trying to get to "know" Aizen (even frivously), by asking him "what music do you even listen to then?" he tells him "why did you ask me that then?"

Another thing I noticed is that Aizen (during TBTP) asks a surprising amount of questions (it can be argued though that these are the hypnotized stand-ins asking). He's trying to gain as much knowledge as he can from other people, and Shinji isn't there to answer, or even acknowledge that he's asking questions. It's also "normal" for Aizen to be seen at the library, as Shunsui and the C46 didn't bat an eye at Aizen's alibi. While fundamentally Captain/Lieutenant relationships can really be any sort of dynamic (mentor/mentee, boss and personal assistant), I got the sense that Aizen didn't really "learn" much from Shinji about the ways of Soul Society. Shinji had a tight lip and only shared what needed to be shared likely for work-reasons.

And then there's their shikais! I found it fascinating how both of them have reality-altering shikais. Shinji's shikai being a complete distortion of senses, while Aizen's is subtle manipulation of senses. I don't really have any more to say for that, but I've interpreted this as their way of being honest with people. Shinji's manipulation of senses is very cognizant and deliberate - Shinji is blunt. Aizen's is subtle but traumatizing - you can't trust anything coming from Aizen.

I think though, Shinji's experience with Aizen shaped how he treats his Squad going forward. I have a soft spot for headcanons for how Squad 5 operates post-Aizen's incarceration. Shinji treats Momo much differently than he did with Aizen because he knows what it's like being used and completely victimized by Aizen. There's no point in him being on his guard against someone who was hurt just as badly as he was by Aizen's hand. There is a sense of camaraderie they share in that sense. No one (arguably) "knew" Aizen as much as they did because they worked with him in such close capacity. I'd love to know what lies and truths Aizen shared with them lol.

Sorry again for this ramble, but thank you for this ask! Wish we see/have more Squad 5 content, but alas!

[pineappleciders]

sp main 4 with a reader who has an eating disorder; platonic headcanons

includes: stan, kyle, cartman, and kenny

A/N: kyles and kennys look so much longer than the rest oops LOL, also the ed is restrictive n implied as anorexia but others could fit it too 🤫

stan marsh

he notices when you don't eat your lunch, and how you tend to leave after meals. he doesn't think it's weird though, acknowledging that it's normal to have something not agree with your stomach or just not being hungry.

but, it started to worry him a little as it became more frequent, and how you were losing weight rapidly

he probably doesn't ask about it at first, but sometimes he'll mention little things or try to subtly express concern

"do you not like your lunch? you can have my fries, if you want."

he might confront you about it, and assumes that there's something else going on in your life that's been affecting you. he figures that would explain the lethargy, the dizziness, and how pre-occupied you are.

he has no idea what an eating disorder is.

you have to explain it, and he probably does some research online about what your disorder is and it just kinda. clicks for him. like the puzzle pieces snap into place

he thinks of all the times you've shown symptoms and warning signs, and he feels like a complete asshole for ignoring them

he keeps it in mind afterwards. he'll offer you pieces of his lunch, and invite your family over for dinner. he also reminds you that he's there for you, whatever that means.

he tries to spend more time with you, sort of as a way to ease his mind that you're safe. and he has his mom make your favorite snacks when you two hang out!!

stan tries to be more mindful of his words, and takes other peoples mental health more into consideration. it's kind of a wake-up call to him

"damn, Y/N, you got sand in your vagina? you look awful."

"lay off, cartman."

"what?! i'm just saying! we were all thinking it!"

if you get really dizzy and nearly faint he gets really scared and immediately takes you to the school nurse. like he's very concerned that you're dying or something and falls asleep in the nurses office waiting for you to recover

he doesn't fully understand the disorder, but he still feels really bad about it!!!! he hopes that one day you'll have a better relationship with food. until then, he's happy to do everything he can to make it easier on you

kyle broflovski

he's probably a little ignorant of your symptoms at first, like he'll tell himself in his head that it's probably nothing.

in fact, he probably thinks you're sick. puking, not eating, always tired. he assumes it's just the common cold, and doesn't pry.

he can't help but worry though. bringing your own lunch with barely anything in it, never staying still, always drinking diet drinks. it was little things that added up and made him suspicious

he wants to mind his own business, but he figures he would be a bad friend if he just let you go through whatever you're going through on your own. he has to be there for his friends.

"Y/N? dude, can i talk to you? over here." kyle pulls you out of the hall into a secluded area.

"uhh, yeah, what's up?"

"uh, listen dude, are you sick or something? like, you haven't been eating any of your lunches, and to be honest... you look terrible."

"gee, thanks."

"ah, i didn't mean it like that. you look exhausted, i mean look at your eyebags! is.. is something wrong?"

you struggle to find words.

"yeah, no, i'm.. i've been fine. a cold, is all."

".. are you sure?"

"...yyyeah."

he keeps an eye on you after that, giving a worried look and furrowed brow when you refuse to eat, but you dismiss it every time.

he starts to research online about what could possibly be going on. not eating, always tired, low-energy, regurgitation...

he comes to the conclusion you might have an eating disorder, and he's honestly super lost on where to go from there. does he confront you about it? does he say nothing and leave you alone? is it any of his business?

he decides to start trying to ease his way into conversation by packing you a lunch one day. that way, you have to eat it!

he does little things like that, like following you to the bathroom after lunch or stopping you during laps around the school. it's... a little manipulative, trying to pressure you into cracking or stopping your bad habits. but, he really doesn't know how else to approach this.

once he talks to you about it, he tries his best to be emotionally available for you. he tries to keep his mouth shut and listen to you talk.

afterwards, he'll give you little pats on the shoulder as encouragement, or bring little chocolates from home for you in his lunchbox. he knows he isn't the best with stuff like this, so he tries to show his care by inviting you to play video games at his house.

to him, quality time can be one of the best ways to bond with someone. he's always inviting you to hang out or go out for dinner with his family!

eric cartman

"you gonna eat that?"

"like you need anymore food, fat-boy."

he's mainly confused on why you're acting so weird. it's sloppy joe day, dude. what the fuck are you doing staring at the wall??

most definitely takes the food you don't eat

"dude, Y/N, what crawled up your ass and died? you've been picking at your food all period."

"..nothing."

he huffs and turns back to his tray, mumbling under his breath. "well, fine, be a dick."

if you were to ever pass out, he'd assume you didn't sleep enough or have like. heart issues or something. which wouldn't be that far off

he only really cares if it causes some sort of medical problem or something. like heart disease, fainting and hitting your bead. then atp it gets him a little nervous. mostly because he isn't prepared to rush anyone to the er anytime soon

it bugs him. like it gradually gets more and more under his skin how you're obviously starving yourself. yeah, he knows. and he wish he didn't, because it's so confusing to him

why???? what is the purpose??????

honestly might subtly try to talk to stan or kenny about it. not cuz he cares. definitely not

"have you noticed Y/N lately??"

"what about them?"

he sighs. "god, you really haven't noticed? they're totally ana-recks-it or whatever it's called. they hurl in the bathroom after lunch every day."

it's kind of hard for him to grasp his mind around,,,, so he chooses to ignore it. it still pisses him off though to no avail

he knows a bit about eating disorders from the internet and stuff, and that you're probably doing it out of insecurity or something. he really doesn't care about that part, but your habits gradually annoy him more and more

sometimes he'll just. push food to you at the lunch table. and when you ask why he's like huffing and reaches to take it back like "well damn i'll have it myself then"

he does get actually concerned if you get super light-headed or something. like if you stand up from your seat and fall back gripping your head he'll look at you from across the room all curious

and might take you to the nurse if nobody else will. maybe

kenny mccormick

yeah, he notices. he doesn't bring it up very often, how you don't eat a lot at lunch, mainly to save you any embarrassment.

he honestly just assumes you don't eat around him in particular out of sympathy. he thinks that you see his measly sandwich and apple and don't eat out of guilt. which he himself feels really bad about

tries to ask you what's wrong and ask if you don't want your food,, but tries not to make a big deal out of it

observes you a little closer, taking mental note of your weird little behaviors. going to the bathroom frequently, always walking, never quite seeming comfortable at your lunch table. he couldn't put his finger on it!

it was one day when you fainted and had to be sent to the nurses office that he pieced it together. he hadn't learned a lot about eating disorders, only a few bits and pieces off the web.

he felt guilty, for some reason. like he had failed you as a friend

i feel like if he were to confront you about it, he'd do it in a subtle way, not like an interrogation. he already feels like he's invading your privacy by mentioning it!!

he might bring it up while you're playing video games in your room. "mmph, mmmph? mm mm mmph mph mmphph? (hey, Y/N? can i ask you something?")

you pause the split-screen game you two were playing and look at him. "sure dude, go for it."

he looks around a little before his eyes land back on you. "mmphh.... mph mmphph mph mmph mph mmph mmphph mppphpm mmph mmmph. (so, i wanted to talk to you about something really important.")

you raise your eyebrow a little. "ookay."

he fidgets a little. "mph... mph mph mmphph? mmph.. mp mmph mph mphph mhp mmfmf mmphph mmphph. mmph mph? (well... are you okay? i've noticed you've been kinda distant lately. what's up?")

you feel your heart drop a bit, anxiety starting to swell. "uh.. i've been fine, i don't know what you're talking about."

his eyes look a little rejected, but he keeps trying. "mm.. mphm mph mphph mmf mm mph mph mmph mph. mp.. mp mph mmf mmf.. mphpmf mphhfm? mph mmmphph?(uh.. i'm just gonna say it. do.. do you have like.. eating problems? a disorder?")

he appreciates that you're talking to him about it, even if you're being honest or not.

he won't treat you differently afterwards. he'll give you a good pat on the back and a smile (you can only tell by the crinkle of his eyes), but he treats you the same.

he'll point out your funky mannerisms even less, and reminds you that you can talk to him. he isn't great at talking but he's great at listening!!!! also tries to be nicer to you. but he doesn't do it consciously, he just feels more of an urge to help you out and even protect you. specifically from cartman.

[my-castles-crumbling]

hey cas...........so this is super duper personal so you 1000% do not have to respond to this but um here you go:

i am 18, afab, transmasc transnonbinary and i have to go see a gynecologist bc my body isn't functioning correctly (i get my period for too long too frequently and lose a lot of blood). now i don't typically experience dysphoria about things like my period bc it's just something that happens and wtv, but lately idk if it's dysphoria or just general icky frustration bc my body is not regulating itself and i can't control it. anyway, the whole point of the ask was to ask you if you've been to a gyn and what are some things that helped you feel more comfortable about your body and things you can't control. (and if you don't want to answer any of it or some of it or wtv, i totally understand. this is a super invasive and personal ask and i just thank you for even reading it.

all that aside: i love all of your works, esp trans!regulus! thank you so much for being the aunt of the marauders fandom and just being an amazing person in general!!! sending you so much love to you and your family through the holidays!!!!

Hi!

I have been to a gynecologist, I go every year. I've actually been going since I was 13 because I have PCOS so I've had a lot of issues with my cycle (such fun).

I'm going to put a 'read more' here because I'm sure many people don't want to hear me go on about the OBGYN for ages lol

I think the first thing I'd suggest is to be picky, if you can. I know that's not always possible, depending on your country, insurance, etc, but if it's possible to look into the gyn's policies when it comes to LGBTQIA+ patients, first-time patients, etc and pick a doctor that is accepting in that way, it makes a huge difference.

Along with that, before you go to the appointment, research what to expect. Before my first appointment, I read about exactly what would happen. I wasn't thrilled about everything I read, but I wasn't surprised at all, which was very comforting. Knowing what is coming can also prepare you to know what to ask for. For example, if you don't like hearing certain words for certain body parts, you can ask the doctor to avoid using those words and instead use others.

At the appointment, it's very important to be honest about how you're feeling. The nice thing is, gynecologists have better bedside manner than the average doctor, because they work with pregnant people, so if you're honest about feeling uncomfortable, they'll be more likely to listen. Say how you're feeling, ask questions about what is happening, and as weird as it feels, be very honest. I have had some VERY weird conversations with my gynecologist and there has been no judgement. Trust me when I say they have seen and heard EVERYTHNG, so it is much better to be honest. Along with this, if the doctor is NOT helpful or kind at any point, remember that you STILL have the power to remove consent. You have control over your body. You can tell them to stop, ask for a different doctor, or decide to go to a completely different office. You can ask why something is necessary, or refuse a treatment even if the doctor tells you that you should not. You have control over your body.

After any sort of check-up, make sure to ask questions about the suggested treatment. Ask questions about things that matter to you. For me, I always ask about how new medications might affect my weight, my estrogen and testosterone levels (because I am nonbinary and I don't want my estrogen too high), my mood, and my blood sugar (I am diabetic).

Most importantly, remember that you are NOT a bother. Whatever questions you ask, whatever hesitations you voice, however many times you need to correct people on pronouns or anything like that, you are NOT a bother. This is your health and it is extremely important.

Two more things: if you feel like a doctor isn't listening to you, at any office, ask for the doctor to note their decision in your chart. A written note of their decision can often cause them to suddenly be willing to do more for you. And...how do I say this without saying it. If you need to get a physical exam from a gynecologist and you are worried about...sizes of devices used for the exam? Some gynecologists have a smaller version of the device that you can request. I hope that makes sense...

Good luck! And if you have specific questions about what an appointment is like, you're welcome to DM me! I'll let you know if the questions are too invasive.

[magicalbats]

Day 14: Orgasm Denial

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7925

Warnings: Afab!reader, (lots of) gendered language, social power dynamics, boss/employee, upperclass/lowerclass, tbh I’m not entirely sure how to tag some of this xmdkxkdnd, manual masturbation, dacryphilia, I wanted reader to be a bit of a bimbo in this one so if she seems stupid that’s why lol

A/N: sorry this one is late! I am officially behind on my prompts now but regardless of how long it takes I WILL be completing this Kinktober challenge! Unfortunately the real world demands attention sometimes but I’m not giving up 😤

⭐

Stamping down the urge to nervously fiddle with your hands, you clutch at the front of your arpon to keep them still and try very hard to focus on what the man in front of you is saying. The Palais Mermonia housed a great many regular faces, some of which you only saw from time to time and could not seem to commit to memory, and yet you’d been seeing mister Danon’s more and more often than anyone else’s recently. You didn’t understand why that would be though, and had at first written it off as mere coincidence. A simple matter of happenstance and nothing more. 

But then it kept happening at an ever increasing frequency until it seemed like you were running into him almost every day now. Only then had it occurred to you, in a far off, distant sort of way, that he must have been making a concerted effort to talk with you like this. That was the only reasonable explanation for it that you could glean, because the one person you saw at the Palais with any amount of real regularity was the honorable Iudex himself and certainly not the man who’s job description you could not seem to recall. But that didn’t exactly explain why. 

You wanted to understand what would make him seek you out like this, so you attentively listen to mister Danon when he speaks even though you sometimes find him a bit difficult to follow. He seemed like he was probably a good person and respectable enough, but he had a strange habit of jumping from topic to topic without much rhyme or reason that you could discern. One moment he would be talking to you about matters of work, about documents he needed to have signed or the latest gossip that had everyone all in a buzz, and the next … why, he would suddenly say something off hand about recreational activities to do in the city or places to dine, a book he’d read recently and even the types of food he fancied. 

It was all very strange, and listening to him talk does not help in the slightest. In fact, it actually seems to make it worse. 

You didn’t have the slightest idea why he would want to discuss upcoming stageplays with you nor why he should feel the need to announce that his favorite dish was aspic as if it was something that should be of great interest to you. It was all really quite strange. 

“You see, if you take a few fish when they’re still flopping around and fresh,” He tells you, eagerly gesturing his way through an explanation you hadn’t asked for. “That will guarantee their taste and ensure your aspic comes out just divine. Like something straight from the Gods themselves, if you want the honest truth of it. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything more sumptuous!” 

“A - ah,” You make a valid attempt to smile politely but it was difficult to keep up with him like this. What did you care for the precise steps to make such an unappetizing sounding dish? 

“You know, if you were interested, cherie … I could make it for you to try, if you would like. Ah, what I mean is — it might be nice if we can sit down together and chat over a meal at my residence. Just the two of us.”

Your brows slowly crawl straight up to your hairline. “Oh.” 

Before you can think to say anything else, an attention grabbing thud against the marble floor makes you spin around and a smile quickly overtakes your face. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette! It is a pleasure to see you today.”

The kindly man sends you a slow, vaguely bemused half-smile. “Good afternoon, mademoiselle. Mister Danon. You looked like you were having a rather lively conversation just now. I hope I didn't interrupt anything important?” 

“Of course not, monsieur. It was nothing important at all.” You beam up at him, eager and happy to hang on his every word no matter how benign or minuscule. Much to your surprise, though, he sends another unreadable look over your shoulder and when you turn back to Danon you’re more than a little surprised to find him slouched as if in defeat. Your eyebrows quickly make the climb up to your hairline again. “Mister Danon, are you alright? Goodness, you suddenly look quite unwell.” 

“Yes, everything is fine. Nothing to worry about.” He waves off your concern, but it doesn’t escape your notice that he makes a concerted effort not to look directly at you now and instead turns his attention towards monsieur Neuvillette. “Forgive me, your honor. I’m afraid I must be going now. My break is almost over and my presence will be sorely missed if I fail to show up on time.”

The stately Iudex inclines his chin in a brief nod of acknowledgment. “You needn’t apologize, mister Danon. On behalf of all of Fontaine, thank you for the hard work you do.” 

Giving monsieur Neuvillette a stiff bow, he turns to do the same to you. “Mademoiselle.” 

You quickly bob a perplexed curtsy back. “Monsieur?” 

Ignoring or perhaps not hearing the question in your voice, Danon pivots on his heel and makes a hasty retreat down the long corridor without so much as a backwards glance. You can’t seem to shake the feeling you’ve said or done something wrong though, and you watch him go with a tiny flutter of anxiety in your chest until another soft thud of monsieur Neuvillette’s cane on the marble floor pulls you around again. 

With a small frown in place, you tip your head back to look up at him when he comes to stand next to you. “Monsieur Neuvillette?” 

He offers you a small, gentle smile, no doubt meant to placate and soothe, though it does little in the way of good. “Please do not look so put out, mademoiselle. Would you like to accompany me to my office?” 

Nodding, you fall into step beside him. You find yourself listlessly fiddling with your hands now, unable to stop it when it felt like you'd made some horrible faux pas, and they anxiously flit over your front to smooth out invisible wrinkles. What a strange and confusing situation to end up in, and with no idea how to navigate it either. It seemed like you’d done the exact opposite of what you’d initially set out to do … you didn’t understand it in the slightest. 

“Forgive me for asking you such a strange question so suddenly, but … did I say something to offend mister Danon just now?” 

Noising a quiet sound of consideration, monsieur Neuvillette thinks on that for a brief moment. “I am certainly no expert on the topic, mademoiselle, but if I am not mistaken I do believe mister Danon harbors a romantic interest in you. I believe he may have felt slighted when you said what you were discussing was of no importance, and he took it as a sign of rejection.” 

You jerk to a sudden halt with an inelegant scuffle of your heels. “Romantic?” Eyes widening in mute horror, you feel your cheeks start to grow uncomfortably warm. That did make sense, you were more than just a little stunned to realize. The way he made the effort to find you wherever you were working, stop you and talk to you; the way he would casually sprinkle in bits and pieces of his personal life and subtly suggest food, diners, places to go and things to do … had he really been laying out suggestions this whole time hoping you would show an interest in him back? But — “But he never said … oh, monsieur Neuvillette, I had no idea!” 

He looks at you with a soft, sympathetic smile where he’d stopped half a pace in front of you. “It is alright if you didn’t know. Situations like these can be difficult to — parse sometimes, and I do not think you acted with malicious intent. Come, let us continue this over a cup of tea.” 

Embarrassed and roiling with a crushing sense of guilt, you slowly trail after the Iudex to his large, exquisitely furnished office where you quickly fall into your usual habit of preparing the chinaware while he situates himself on the ornate lounge. It is muscle memory alone that sees you through your task, motions practiced and subconscious after working at the Palais for so long, which comes as a great relief in that moment. You were far too preoccupied with this startling revelation to give the pouring of the tea much thought. Mister Danon’s intentions were shocking enough but, perhaps even more so, you’re surprised at your own lack of awareness on the matter. 

You felt rather bad now, for listening to him so attentively and humoring the conversations he was always keen to share with you. Had he mistaken it for budding affection on your part? Have you unknowingly encouraged him to keep trying or, somehow worse, made him believe you were merely toying with his feelings this whole time? What a terrible thing to do to another person, intentionally or not. 

Monsieur Neuvillette silently regards you when you bring the tea over on a silver tray but you can’t bring yourself to look at him while you set everything down on the low table in front of him. He was always nothing but kind to you despite your lower station of housekeeper, just as he was with all of the staff that kept the Palais functioning as it should. Everyone from the notarizers and the title clerks right down to even the janitors were treated with nothing but respect and dignity, and that very much included you. But you were a bit too ashamed, too guilty to meet his gaze right now, and you quickly shuffle back a polite distance once everything is laid out so you can further avoid his eyes. 

A stretch of quiet settles over the room, and you have to try very hard not to start fiddling with your uniform again. 

“Won’t you make yourself a cup and join me?” He ventures at last. 

“I couldn’t, monsieur Neuvillette. But thank you.” 

He seems to deliberate over something for a short beat before half turning his body on the lounge to look up at you. “I must apologize for prying like this but what about the situation with mister Danon has you so upset? If you didn’t know what his intentions were then you certainly cannot be held responsible for not acting accordingly.” 

You hesitate to discuss this matter with him, well aware that it was improper and impolite to talk over such things with not only the aristocracy but also the man who was effectively your employer. It felt very much like an unspoken boundary that should not, under any circumstances, be crossed but … when you take in monsieur Neuvillette’s imploring expression your resolve starts to crumble. He was a wise and exceptionally astute figurehead who always treated every case laid out before him no matter how small or insignificant with the utmost care and consideration. Perhaps he would have some insight to share with you, or at least some advice. 

“Well,” You finally relent, tipping your chin down to shyly regard your buckled shoes. “I’m aware that this might sound a little odd but I just feel so guilty about everything … I should have realized sooner why he kept seeking me out like he did. As silly as it is, I can’t help but feel like I tricked him somehow.” 

“That is a silly thing, isn’t it?” He agrees in a soft, endlessly patient tone. “How could you have tricked someone if you weren’t aware of what they wanted from you? In the unlikely event that a case such as this were presented to me, I wouldn’t even be able to rule in favor of misrepresentation on the defendant’s part. You have to act with knowing and intention to be held accountable for trickery.” 

You despondently mull that over for a long stretch. Logically, you knew what he was saying to be true and you, as everyone else in Fontaine, trusted his judgment implicitly. It wasn’t so much that you doubted him but, rather, your guilt was so great that it couldn’t accept this answer. The thought alone that you might have broken mister Danon’s heart after stringing him along for months almost brings tears to your eyes. 

“Does that mean you wouldn’t deign to punish me for it?” It’s barely more than a whisper. 

“No, not unconscionably. No one in their right mind would.” 

It feels like you're withering on the spot. You didn’t understand it yourself, why you were so upset to hear this rather than relieved at finding you hadn’t broken any laws or regulations that would hold you accountable. Even if mister Danon were to try to file a suit against you to mend some of his bruised ego it sounded like he wouldn’t even have a case to stand on — and that was good. 

So why did it feel as if you were skating by without making proper amends for the transgression?

“Mademoiselle?” 

You finally bring your head up to look at him. “Do you think mister Danon will forgive me if I apologize?” 

Monsieur Neuvillette’s expression softens, taking on a truly remorseful edge. “I don’t know, little one. He might. I can’t see into the future any more than you can, but I think if it’s something that bothers you so much then it certainly wouldn’t hurt to talk to him about it.” 

Blinking back a sudden deluge of tears, you take an impulsive step towards him with the tray clutched to your chest. “Oh, monsieur Neuvillette, I don’t know what to do! How can I possibly ameliorate my actions if he might not even accept my apology? I — I didn’t mean to lead him on!” 

Very neatly, calmly, monsieur Neuvillette folds his gloved hands on his lap and studies you for an indeterminable amount of time with that closed and shuttered expression. You aren’t sure how many minutes pass when you’re a right mess inside, all your emotions kicked up into such a veritable whirlwind that it’s all you can do just to hold it together. But, at length, he eventually draws a careful breath. 

“What I’m hearing is that your guilt over this matter will not be dissuaded until you feel appropriate action has been taken against you to right what is, in your mind, a very serious wrong, intentional or not. Is that correct?” 

You blink, more than a little surprised at how concisely he’s grasped your thoughts on the matter. It almost sounds foolish when he puts it like that, in such blunt terms, but there is no denying the pang that resonates within you. “Yes, monsieur. I feel terrible for what I’ve done …” 

He seems to hesitate, his brows drawing inward almost imperceptibly. “Guilt can function as its own form of punishment as well, and a very effective one at that. But you must understand something, mademoiselle. The law simply is not applicable here. There is no legal recourse and, therefore, no system in place to enforce any sort of repercussions against you.” 

You take another step closer, feeling fervent and hot. “Then will you punish me, monsieur Neuvillette?” 

Abruptly, he goes very still. “I am hardly in any position to mete out such discipline,” He says slowly, carefully. “And, far more importantly, I’m not quite sure what you would have me do. I don’t believe this situation would call for a monetary fine or even any corrective action on an employment level … and I’m certainly not going to spank you over my knee like a child.” 

Flustered heat crawls up your neck to settle in your cheeks. You hate the way your knees grow weak and knobby at the thought of that, but you were decidedly in agreement with him. It would have been inappropriate for him to strike you in any capacity, least of all over something like this. Still, though … 

“Isn’t there something to be done?” 

Monsieur Neuvillette’s expression settles back into that somber mask again, eyeing you for a drawn out beat before he finally issues a clipped sigh. Leaning back to recline against the lounge, he stiffly crosses his legs and once more settles his folded hands atop the bent knee. “Come here, little one. Stand next to me.” 

Your feet almost don’t want to move from the spot but you force them to uproot so you can cautiously shuffle forward. You aren’t sure what to expect when your cotton stuffed head was such a mess, but all he does when you come up beside him is hold out an expectant hand. It takes you a moment to realize what he wants and you flush even hotter as you pass him the tray. Taking it from you, he sedately sets it aside on the cushion before fixing his attention on you once again. 

“This is another topic in which I lack expertise but I might have something in mind that could satisfy your need for penance. However, I will not force or otherwise coerce you into it, and you will likewise be free to walk away at any time. Once you have decided you’ve made the appropriate dues for leading mister Danon on, as you put it, then this arrangement will end immediately. Is that agreeable to you?” 

You bob your head in a quick nod. “Yes, monsieur Neuvillette. Thank you.” 

Squaring his broad shoulders, the usually kindly disposition with which he carried himself outside of the courtroom fades and is replaced by the stern set of his mouth, the slight tension along his brow, to indicate that it is the Chief Justice sitting before you now. A chill runs up your spine at the change in him, so subtle yet unavoidably obvious, and a sharp look from pale lavender eyes stops you from saying anything. You’d never before been subjected to such a hard expression from him and you can’t quite stop yourself from sympathizing with whoever was unlucky enough to find themselves standing before him in court. It really wasn’t any wonder why he held the title of supreme judge in all of Fontaine when you saw him like this. 

“Do not thank me yet, mademoiselle. If you would be so kind, please lift your skirt for me.” 

Your spine stiffens with a tremor so powerful it very nearly bowls you over on the spot. Obediently, though, you reach down with numb hands to gather the full, flouncy material of your uniform and shyly hike it up along with the lace petticoat underneath. 

“Higher.” He commands, intently observing the slow ascension of your skirts. “That’s it, up around your waist. Good.” 

Sucking in a faltering breath, you sway unsteadily on your feet and try not to lose your nerve. The thought that you would be able to alleviate your guilt with this steels your resolve though, and your hands start to shake as your stockinged upper thighs are revealed to him, the simple garters holding them in place and, finally, your lace panties. Your face is on fire while you nudge everything up a little further to make sure it was satisfactory and to his liking despite still harboring some very real doubts about this in the back of your mind. 

He did say he wasn’t going to spank you … didn’t he? 

Casually, monsieur Neuvillette reaches out a hand to slip long, elegantly poised fingers into the space between your thighs and you suck in a sharp gasp when he nudges them up against your cunt just so. The touch is featherlight and barely there, but it makes more blood rush into your face to leave you rattled and a bit dizzy. But you don’t pull away from him as he takes his time petting over the apex of your fleshy mound and the slit running along your body, determined to see this through. Somehow having him touch you like this was not nearly as embarrassing as the way his expression doesn’t change while he does it, you’re quite ashamed to realize. 

“Are you sensitive here?” He asks you softly, prompting you to swallow. Hard. 

“I … I don’t know. I’m not sure.” 

Quietly clicking his tongue, monsieur Neuvillette presses up against you a little more firmly, gloved fingertips digging into your defenseless clit to make you jolt and give a startled yelp. “You seem responsive enough to me. I only know of this particular activity in theory but … well, it doesn’t really matter. I believe we should have no problem at all using this method for your penance.” 

“W - which is, monsieur?” 

“I believe I’ve heard the people call this ‘edging’ before. It sounds rather dreadful, doesn’t it? Like some sort of barbaric torture technique.” Carefully observing your face, he pushes up even harder to grind tight, mean little circles against that sensitive pleasure button, and your eyes grow big as you stiltedly rock forward on your toes. “I suppose it could still be called that, depending on who you asked. The instigator or the receptee. I’m sure they would have drastically different opinions on the matter.”

Whimpering, you numbly readjust your hold on your skirt to make sure it stays up and out of his way while he’s doing this. Not that you were entirely sure you liked this specific method in terms of punishments when it was so obvious your body was eagerly responding to it – from the way your pussy clenches around nothing and starts to slick for him and even to the way your nipples stiffen against the inside of your shirt – but perhaps that was a good thing. Would you have really been able to say your penance was paid in full if this trial were not appropriately challenging?

“Wh … where?” 

Blinking at the little mouse squeak noise, monsieur Neuvillette just keeps rubbing over you with that steady motion of his hand. “I beg your pardon?” 

Trying valiantly to keep the fluster off of your face and failing miserably at it, you shyly avert your gaze. “I was just curious … where did you hear of this?”

“A reasonable question.” He relents, allowing the smallest note of humor to color his voice. “While it is true I don’t often partake in such crude conversations, it can be a little hard to avoid at times. Even here, in the Palais Mermonia. I believe they refer to it as ‘water cooler talk’.”

“Oh.” You’d overhead such things before too, now that you thought of it. The other women who worked at the Palais were more prone to gossip, joint complaints about their husbands or beaus, fawning over babies and first days of school, and academic achievements, while the men … they would sometimes change topics when they saw you coming but more than once you’d caught snippets of inappropriate conversations. A recent visit they’d had to a brothel or perhaps how they fantasized about doing certain things to their partners. You always felt mildly scandalized whenever it would happen, shocked that such discussions were being entertained at the Palais, and yet — 

Letting out a slow, stuttering breath, you carefully glance down at yourself to look at monsieur Neuvillette’s hand disappearing between the soft pudge of your thighs. This was vastly more inappropriate than any ‘water cooler talk’ and that realization embarrasses you a great deal. Your cheeks feel a little hotter, your blood pumping harder, and you whine, very low in your throat. Was this really an acceptable form of punishment? 

You think it probably is, because the shame that comes with it is potent and cloying, especially when your hips give a weak judder at what he’s doing. To think that the Iudex himself was touching you like this … 

“Does that feel good, little one?” 

Twitching at the sound of his voice, you give a stilted nod. “Yes, monsieur, thank you … but — but I don’t think I quite understand. Are punishments supposed to feel good?” 

“Not necessarily, no. But this is only a part of it. Relax, sweet girl. I will ensure your guilt is appropriately mitigated in due time.” 

You still don’t truly understand it, but you allow yourself to ease into it anyway. Relax into his touch. Slipping your eyes closed, you just take a moment to feel the sensation of him rubbing over your cunt. The press of his firm fingers pudges your lips to highlight how soft and pliable they are, the blunt tips of his gloves sinking into the slit. Even the thin layer of your panties is not enough to lessen the drag in any meaningful way, and it doesn’t seem to take long at all for you to start feeling sticky with arousal. It’s copious and excessive, almost implausibly so considering that he’d only touched you in this one specific spot thus far. Hardly at all. 

You hadn’t thought you would be so easily excitable and yet the proof of it is in the way you tremble for him, the way your breathing gradually picks up to make your breasts heave under your blouse, and it quickly becomes difficult just to stay standing in place. You wanted to twist and pull away, give your drooling cunt even a moment's reprieve, but you don’t give in to the urge. That wasn’t what he’d agreed to, and you trusted his judgment … 

So you stand there, trembling, while your stiff nipples cut up into your shirt in search of the same friction, and you try not to cry out. Your pussy tingles against his hand, the pressure it exerts so constant and steady that it rapidly starts to feel like the building pressure in you is reaching critical mass. Much sooner than you could have anticipated or guessed, it was as if your body was particularly weak for monsieur Neuvillette’s dutiful attention. 

Softly wheezing when your legs buckle and threaten to give out, you subtly tip your pelvis further into his hand and it becomes that much more apparent how wet you really are. How stiff and engorged your clit had gotten. A violent shudder tears through you at the meaty, swollen drag of it under his fingers, head tipping back and. - - 

He retracts his hand so suddenly it leaves you lurching in place. Raggedly gasping at the sudden loss, you turn wide, wild eyes on monsieur Neuvillette but he merely gives you that same somber expression as he interlaces his fingers on top of his bent knee once again, unfalteringly casual about it. 

“That will be all for right now, mademoiselle. Thank you.” 

You just gape at him, stunned and confused, with your skirts still hiked up around your waist like a shameless fool. “Wh - wha —“ 

A look of sympathy flashes across monsieur Neuvillette’s face. “This is the penance you wanted so badly. As many times as you like, I will bring you close to orgasm but I will not let you actually reach climax. It is the only suitable punishment I could think of for your specific … transgression.” 

It takes a great deal of effort for you to do it, but you suck in a slow, shuddering breath to steady yourself. “I … I see. Thank you, monsieur. I understand now.” 

“Very good. Now, run along. I’m sure you’ve got work to do elsewhere.” 

He offers you a small smile that you think is meant to be reassuring but it does very little to distract from the throbbing ache in your cunt or calm your pounding heartbeat. Numbly, you drop your skirt and petticoat back into place and run your hands over it to smooth out the (now real, not imagined) wrinkles as you slowly make your way towards the door. It was like you were in a trance. 

“And mademoiselle?”

You pause, turning to look back at him. “Yes, monsieur?” 

“I would like to see you in my office again around noontime. Please do not forget and don’t be late.” 

~*~

It hadn’t taken you long to realize just how insidious and cruel this strange brand of punishment truly was. You left his office such a sticky mess between the legs that even trying to clean yourself in the powder room did little good against the slick oozing out of you to stain your panties and make them stick to you, moulding against your cunt. It serves as a near constant reminder of how close you’d been to climax, how monsieur Neuvillette’s fingers had felt touching such an intimate part of your body, and how torturous it had felt to have that friction taken away so suddenly. 

The wisdom of the Iudex impresses you even now though, for you did indeed see why he’d deemed this the only appropriate corrective measure that would fit the crime. You had unknowingly strung mister Danon along with your feminine charm and wiles, so it did indeed make sense to turn that back around on you in some way. 

And although it does take a while, the distracting pulse in your cunt slowly fades into an afterthought in the back of your mind while you flit about the Palais tending to various tasks and seeing that everything was as it should be. At some point you even start to forget how your damp panties cling to you and that makes it much easier to view this trial as an easy obstacle to overcome. You would simply allow monsieur Neuvillette to carry out this task a handful of times, consider your self flagellation completed and then move on with your life. 

Yes, this really was the best method of making your peace with the situation. 

Comforted in your conviction, you return to monsieur Neuvillette’s office at the appointed time and issue a gentle rap at the door. His voice filters through without missing a beat, calling for you to come in, and you enter without reservation. 

Perhaps you should have been more wary of underestimating him or this game you were playing but you think nothing of it as you make your way across the room to stand in front of his stately desk. He looks up at you with a brief smile that inexplicably makes your pulse thrum a little faster, and that surprises you slightly. Catches you off guard. 

“Thank you for your punctuality, little one. I have a meeting scheduled after lunch is over so I wanted to tend to you before I got too busy.” 

Self consciously, you avert your gaze. “Are you sure this is alright, monsieur? I don’t want you to go hungry because of me.” 

“Nonsense. I planned accordingly and already ate before you came by.” Not lingering on the thought for very long, he takes a moment to straighten a stack of papers and neatly set them aside, out of the way. Nudging his high backed chair out from under the desk, he half turns and situates himself first before reclining against the backrest and finally looking up at you again. “Come. No need to feel shy.” 

His words have the opposite effect of making you feel ten times more shy than you originally did, and you can feel yourself starting to blush again as you slowly round the desk to come up beside him. Standing just a scant few inches from him like this it occurs to you, suddenly, that you probably should have been a bit more apprehensive about returning to his chamber like this. He was going to touch you again … oh, perhaps you had not thought this through all the way.

“Here.” He says, drawing you back into the moment with a gentle pat against his leg. “Sit on my lap, little one. This should make things a bit easier for both of us.” 

The flush that crawls up your face is an intense and overwhelming one. “M - monsieur, I — I couldn’t possibly be so presumptuous!” 

“Is it presumptuous if I’m telling you to do it?” 

Your spine stiffens at the slightly hardened tone in his voice, the edge that seems to cut across any of your weak excuses, and you quickly realize it is once again the Chief Justice sitting before you now, not the kindly monsieur Neuvillette. And he was looking at you very expectantly. 

Swallowing your nerves, you reluctantly shuffle closer and turn to lower yourself onto his leg with a slow, stiff motion of your body. The firm pressure and warmth of him underneath you is almost enough to send you running from the room in hysterics, but before you can even think to change your mind his arm comes forward to secure itself around your middle. A surprised little yelp bursts out of you when he hauls you back against him to settle more firmly on his lap, completely disregarding how you tense up and shudder on top of him. 

“There. Isn’t that much better?” He softly coos at you, tugging you back to lean against his front. Your face feels like it’s on fire but you don’t fight it, only whimpering quietly when he at last has you situated how he wants. 

“M - monsieur …” You mewl into the suddenly statically charged office, unable to stop it, but he just quietly tuts at you as he turns his head to press his mouth against your hair. 

“Now, now, you’re alright. I’ve got you. There isn’t any reason to be so nervous.” A violent tremor tears through you when you feel his lips purse against the side of your head in what you think must be a brief kiss — but you don’t get the chance to fully process the significance of that as he bends a little closer to put his mouth near your ear now. “Spread your legs for me, little one. Let me see you.” 

Dizzy with the surge of white hot arousal that abruptly crashes into you with all the force of a sack of bricks, you give a weak, twitchy roll of your body against him and reach down with trembling hands to grab at your skirt. Slowly inching it up, you tip your chin down to watch with him as more and more of your thighs are revealed. The soft pudge around the tops of your stockings embarrasses you somewhat but not nearly as much as your panties do. Even from this angle you can see a dark, wet spot staining the crotch when you ease your legs open and you whimper softly at the sight of it. 

“Goodness, you certainly soaked yourself earlier didn’t you? Poor thing,” With a quiet click of his tongue, monsieur Neuvillette reaches down past cotton and lace, and voluminous frills to slide his hand over your mound. Your breath hitches as you watch him do it, cupping your pussy with an almost apologetic squeeze, and you quickly turn your head away before you can say or do something else you’ll regret today. 

You had to admit, it was very naive and shortsighted of you to consider this an easy penance just because it was not a constant, pressing concern at the forefront of your mind. How very foolish you had been. 

“I was thinking about it earlier and I found myself quite curious,” He admits, still just holding your cunt in the palm of his hand. “Would it be too impolite of me to ask how often you usually pleasure yourself?” 

Your chest dramatically heaves with the ragged gasp you suck in. “Monsieur Neuvillette, that’s … why would you ask me something like that?” 

“Oh dear, I hope I haven’t offended you. That was not my intention, little one. Please forgive me.” A pause, while he turns his head to press his lips against your hair again. “It is just that you are so shy and your body is so sensitive. I wondered if perhaps you were too ashamed to take care of your own needs in this manner, that’s all. I’ve heard some women are.” 

Lungs painfully constricting inside your chest, you stiffly lift your hands up to cover your face. Having the Iudex pet you so intimately was one thing, but discussing such matters with him was something else entirely! 

“P - please forgive me, monsieur … you haven’t offended me it’s just — I have no experience with this sort of thing. I do it, sometimes. Pleasure myself like that. But I’ve never had anyone else t - touch me in that way before …” 

“I see.” 

Silence settles over the room for a long, drawn out stretch that soon starts to ride the line of being uncomfortable. You can just start to feel the sting of hot tears creeping through at the corners of your eyes when he gently pats your cunt with the flats of his fingers, startling a surprised noise out of you. Lowering your hands enough to see, you gape down at yourself as he somewhat possessively cups his hand around you again and gives the pudge of your labia a light squeeze. 

“Such a silly thing you are.” He says against your head, displacing some of the little flyways there to send them dancing at your peripheral. You barely even notice it though, trembling at the faintest hint of a growl in his voice when it sets your guts to vibrate and seems to reverberate inside your chest cavity. You’d never heard him sound like that before but don’t get the chance to linger on that thought or question it, because he nuzzles further into you until it feels like he’s speaking directly into your ear now. “In the future you should try not to be so forthcoming with your body when it comes to men. Had I been any less honorable I could have all too easily taken advantage of you earlier and I could still do it now had I wanted to. I understand your desire for wrongs to be appropriately righted as that is the very foundation Fontaine was built on but this is not the way to go about it, mademoiselle.” 

Your mouth warbles open but nothing comes out. All you can do is sit there, quaking on monsieur Neuvillette’s lap, while his fingers slip into one side of your panties and tugs them aside. The sight of your own cunt lips, puffy and flushed with arousal, surprises a faltering animal noise out of you that seems to echo endlessly inside the room. He pays it little mind though and simply curls his thumb to brush over your slit and the clitoris hiding within, smearing sticky slick with that fine leather glove and nudging your body into opening up to him. Legs twitching, you jerk your hands down to latch onto the arm locked around your middle, clutching at him even as you fitfully writhe against the sensation. 

All at once your earlier arousal comes crashing back with a vengeance, temporarily forgotten but not near as snuffed out as you would have liked it to be. Your clit thrums under his stilted caress as if the climax you’d been close enough to taste but not able to experience had lain dormant this entire time while you ensured the water pitchers were filled, the snack tables stocked and the fireplaces were appropriately stoked wherever they were needed. It shocks you a great deal to realize how powerful your arousal truly is, and you buck your hips with a whiny moan that would have embarrassed you under better circumstances. 

But better circumstances would not have found your cunt absolutely flooding with a deluge of fresh slick, nor would your clit have been swelling as eagerly as it does. You can feel the meaty, engorged drag of it under the soft petting of his thumb, almost idly drawing it back and forth with a total lack of urgency that makes your head spin perhaps even more so than the sharp stabs of pleasure do. You wanted to cum, and the knowledge that he would not permit you to just makes you want it even more. 

“Please, monsieur —!” 

Softly humming, he presses his thumb down a bit more firmly. “Are you already getting close, little one?” 

You tip your head back to rest on his broad shoulder, panting up at the ceiling while shuddering waves of yet unrealized ecstasy crash over you, each somehow more powerful than the last. Instinctively, you inch your legs further apart even as they tremble fiercely for him and you think, idly, you probably would have vibrated right off him had he not been keeping you pinned against his front. You’re helpless to do anything except sensitively quake like this, and you do so with great enthusiasm. 

“It is too much … I - I can’t take it!” 

“You will.” He assures you, his voice soft again but it still carries that subtle hint of an edge underneath the surface. You didn’t understand it, why he would sound like that. What had brought it on. Was he even more displeased with you than he’d suggested? 

The thought alone brings tears to your eyes almost as much as the cresting pleasure making you writhe on his lap, and you squeeze your eyes shut to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to make him feel bad for causing you to cry when you were the one who had asked for this … but oh, it was so very hard not to give voice to the sobs threatening to wrack your body when it was all so much. The firm, weighty pressure of his thumb petting over your cunt, his other fingers idly teasing along your slit where they were still holding your panties aside. The smell of him, the taste of him lingering on the back of your tongue, his sturdy weight underneath you. It was all too much, and it felt like you were drowning in him. 

“Let this be a lesson to you,” He continues, unconcerned with the way you twist against him and choke on stuttering gasps. “Even more pressing than the matter with mister Danon, I’m far more concerned about how easily you gave yourself up to a man to do with however he pleased for the sake of penance. Needless self sacrifice is not justice, sweet girl. I do hope you’ll remember that.” 

Bending his head close once more, monsieur Neuvillette presses his mouth to your hammering pulse, and you mewl at the contact. It is not so much a kiss, you abruptly realize, as it is a not very subtle threat. Like there was a beast lurking beneath that kindly gentleman facade … 

“Oh, monsieur, I — I’m going to —“ 

“No, you are not.” He cuts across you, practically hisses it against your jugular, and you nearly jolt right off him when the arm around your middle slides up to lock across your front at an angle. Suddenly he pinches your nipple through your shirt where it’s stiff and straining against cotton, giving it a mean little tweak to make your back bow. Trying to twist away proves futile and you yelp at the pleasure laced pain even as your cunt drools even more obscenely in response. 

You felt like you were going crazy. Truly wild with potent, cloying arousal so powerful, so overwhelming, you can’t even process what’s happening to you while you shake right to the edge of your release. 

And just like that, the hand on your pussy retreats, pulling away altogether to leave your panties shamelessly askew in favor of latching onto the swell of your inner thigh and keeping them spread when you frantically buck your hips in search of that fleeting touch. You heave and groan, reeling at the total loss of friction, but it is useless. Monsieur Neuvillette is an unyielding presence at your back no matter how earnestly you squirm against him, and his gloved fingers give your aching teat another cruel tug to further stave off your release. 

You’re more than a bit horrified, in a delirious, hazy sort of way, to find that the pain serves its purpose in chasing away your climax enough to leave your pussy absolutely throbbing in the wake of this denial. No longer teetering right on the precipice, it seems to force you back a pace or two and all you can do is look on longingly at the promise of oblivion beyond with yearning and desperation. Wanting, but not allowed to have. 

You truly had underestimated just how tortuous this punishment technique could really be … 

Through the murky fever you feel monsieur Neuvillette brush his mouth across your cheek to press at the corner of your eye, effectively drawing you out of your groaning stupor. Sucking in a ragged gasp, you clutch at his arm all the tighter and try in vain to lean away. 

“M - monsieur?” 

“You’re crying.” 

Noising a soft sound of confusion, you blearily blink your eyes open to realize that they were in fact clouded with a swimming sheen of tears making them burn. Sniffling sadly, you start to reach up to swipe them away in shame but the hand on your breast comes up quicker and locks under your jaw, physically turning your face towards him. 

Laying spread out on top of him with your head forced back against his shoulder, you look up at monsieur Neuvillette from just a scant few millimeters away. His expression is still somber and unreadable but … the glint in his pale lilac eyes makes your chest hitch. It wasn’t hunger the same way you’d on occasion caught other men looking at you — men like mister Danon, you realize in retrospect — but it is a hunger all the same. Something old and primal, from a long forgotten dark age that inspires a slow curling tendril of uncertainty low in your gut. You don’t think it’s lust per se, not in the usual sense, but a kind of lust,  perhaps. One you didn’t have a name for. 

One you weren’t sure if you wanted to learn the true nature of. 

After silently studying you for a long moment, he finally drags his gaze from your face to regard the tall, stately clock standing sentry in the office, the only witness to this lurid state of affairs. “I still have some time before my meeting. I think we should be able to squeeze in one more session before I have to go.” 

You very nearly give voice to a hysterical, broken sob, just barely managing to choke it back with a frazzled whine instead. “Monsieur —“ 

“Hush, little one.” He murmurs and leans close again, stunned surprise washing over you when his tongue flicks out to lick up a wet tear from under your eye. You gape at him in shocked disbelief when he pulls back enough to look at you again, leaving behind residual moisture on your skin, but he doesn’t even look the least bit put out or sorry for it. Like it was a perfectly normal thing for him to be doing. Perhaps it was. You had no idea – and if he recognizes your surprised reaction for what it is, he certainly doesn’t show it. “You have nothing to fear from me. I will ensure your punishment is properly administered and then we shall further discuss your other behaviors in greater detail. Rest assured, you will be appropriately corrected in time. I will personally see to that myself.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

[reachexceedinggrasp]

Danny 'I don't do weird' Pink frustrates me as a character, because I'm honestly not sure whether he was supposed to have an arc or not.

His primary role is as a foil for Clara's arc and, in aid of that, as a mirror to the Doctor. A solider with survivor's guilt and a man of action who can't stand by when people need help etc., in some ways he and the Doctor have a lot in common, but he's also a very grounded and circumspect personality versus the Doctor's being fantastical and adventurous. Danny isn't curious and doesn't want to pursue new things or experiences, instead he wants to be fully present with and grateful for what he already has. The Doctor is incorrigibly curious and always interested in new things.

Danny is someone who desires nothing more than an ordinary life, and looks for beauty and satisfaction in the normal things and people around him. He wants his world to be small and quiet, he values the mundane things others might take for granted. He's normal, patient, dependable, simple, honest, etc. His reaction to trauma hasn't been to disavow the things which lead him to that event, or to seek out stimulation to avoid thinking about it, it's to be thoughtful and cautious and somewhat rigid so he can always apply the mindset and skills he retained from before he was traumatised.

He's very firm and unbending in his worldview and in his self-image. He doesn't seem to ever reassess people once he's decided what he thinks of them. He's not unreasonable or unwilling to compromise, he is in fact maybe too reasonable, but he is implastic. He's extremely even-tempered except for around his identity as a soldier, which he's prickly about, but still pretty quick to let it go as long as he's not being deliberately antagonised.

So anyway Danny represents this other path, and this opposite response to the horror of war and making a catastrophic mistake, but he never learns, he never grows and he and Clara are never much on the same wavelength about anything. He's supposed to be stability, the things she 'should' want, the 'person she's supposed to like', the safe choice, the presentable life which Clara feels like she has to have. He's orderly and ordinary and that's what she wants from him. She has to control her image, her future, and her options.

And their simple relationship, once it exists, functions well as the contrast to her complicated and tumultuous relationship with the Doctor while the companion power dynamic is being dismantled and rebuilt so they can be emotional equals. But like, the set up is confusingly executed.

Listen- they have zero chemistry, they have nothing to talk about and have to resort to talking about work, every conversation goes instantly off the rails, they rub each other the wrong way, there is never any reason for them to keep reconciling and trying again to connect. Like. You are not hitting it off! and keep offending each other bc you're not compatible! Quit!!

Clara is forcing it, that makes complete sense with what she's going through, she's trying to take control of her life and her emotions, trying to prove to herself she's not pining for the Doctor and at the mercy of his whims for her life to be full and complete. She doesn't want to need him or to be dependant on him. She doesn't want to be the heartbroken sadsack whom he abandoned at Christmas or who will take whatever scraps he'll throw her. She wants to control his position in her life and control how she feels about him. Hence her assigning him a specific day and confining their adventures on her own terms. She's trying to keep the Doctor compartmentalised. Having an Appropriate Human Relationship means she's successfully put the Doctor in his box (lol) and neutralised the chaotic power of her feelings for him. I mean, obviously not, but that's what she tells herself.

But what is Danny doing? Why does he keep pursuing this when it's so clearly not a good match?

Again in Listen, and much more so The Caretaker, Danny illustrates that he does not know who Clara is, he's wildly wrong about her and what she's like, and he's very high handed about it as well. He's convinced that the Doctor is taking advantage of her, that the Doctor is domineering in their relationship, that she is not a person who wants to be put into challenging or dangerous positions, that the Doctor is pushing her to takes risks and become a leader where that's not her nature. None of this is true. Clara was always a decisive, assertive, strongly driven person who seeks out new experiences and naturally assumes a leadership role any time that's necessary; she relishes being challenged and facing the unknown. Her blow up with the Doctor wasn't about him 'pushing her too far', it was about him failing to support her when she needed him and condescending to her as a human rather than treating her with the intimacy and equity their bond and history together demands. It's personal and it's about their emotional relationship. It's not about making hard choices, it's about having to make hard choices without her partner being honest with and emotionally available to her.

Clara was always an adventurous person, willing to be spontaneous as long as it's on her terms, and excited by the prospect of authority and responsibility. The danger and challenge isn't an unfortunate side effect or a risk she has to take to see amazing sights, it's part of the appeal. She lied to Danny by omission when she said she went off in the box to 'see wonders', not just because the real reason is that she's in love with Doctor, but also because she doesn't just want to be a tourist. She wants to get involved and save people, she wants things to sometimes go pear shaped. She enjoys and craves that part of it too.

Danny is also wildly wrong about the Doctor, but this is understandable and would be fine except that he's never corrected? He never learns better? What's the point?

In Death in Heaven Danny goes out still wrong about the Doctor, still condemning him cruelly and unfairly while knowing nothing about him. He had a point with some of his original rant, there was actual insight there, but it's buried in assumptions and bitterness and then Danny keeps tripling down on the assumption. The one which doesn't understand that the very thing he's shitting on the Doctor for (being willing to lead and make hard choices that must be made in order to save people) is something the Doctor has in common with Clara. And always has. The Doctor didn't change her or push her into that, that's who she's always been.

What is the point of Danny calling him a blood-soaked general and mocking him, calling him an officer as a pejorative again, and again because the Doctor is trying to save the planet. Like, memory check, that's what Danny is mad about. The Doctor doing everything in his power to save literal billions of lives. Doing it for no reason, out of altruism. Doing it while always trying very hard not to fight or kill anyone. Doing it even at enormous spiritual cost to himself.

I don't understand how we're meant to find Danny sympathetic in that moment, because he comes off like a complete dickhead. And it's all the more frustrating because in the intervening episodes Danny has been eminently reasonable. As I've discussed before, we're exhaustively shown that Danny is 100% okay with what Clara claims is going on, that he doesn't want to get in the way of her friendship with the Doctor, that if it really were only the relationship she's pretending it is, there would be no conflict. He's the one who encourages her to make up with him after Kill the Moon! He tells her to go on travelling and it's fine!

Even when he discovers she's been lying to him and cavorting with the Doctor behind his back (again despite him telling her it was fine with him!), he's calm about it and repeats for the millionth time that all he wants from her is honesty. The truth. Which is the one thing she can't give him because Clara knows their entire relationship is built on the lie, they're only together because of the lie. The truth is, as Moffatt said, that Danny never stood a chance. There is a conflict between the two relationships and she's always going to choose the Doctor.

And that does come out, she gives the whole speech to Danny, not knowing it's him, finally being honest. And he seems unsurprised by it, which makes sense because on some level he definitely always knew ('do you love him?' 'no' 'really had enough of the lies'), but then nothing comes of that. Clara just soldiers on, going right back to pretending this relationship wasn't a façade doomed from the start, and Danny allows her to pretend. He goes off on the Doctor, but not in a way the Doctor actually deserves at all, and just sweeps her confession under the carpet. Letting her get away with it again. True to form, I guess! he always did. But shouldn't we make progress?

And it's like... I hate that he dies on that note. It feels like he dies in denial. I guess you could argue it contributes to his decision to not come back, but that feels like a disservice to the character. Saving the kid is important to Danny, it allows him to atone for his greatest mistake, but he didn't need to change or grow to accomplish that and it doesn't provide any closure to his actual role in the narrative, which was as Clara's foil. Clara is off the hook, free to go on lying to herself about their relationship. It's not addressed in Last Christmas, either, it's only barely hinted at.

[henrioo]

Hey! Could I please request some fluffy scenarios about Shanks X Male and Mihawk X Male Reader (separately if that's okay) who's love languages are physical touch and quality time, but is also struggling with anxiety? Sorry for going on anon, this is my first time ever requesting and I'm a little nervous lol

°•*⁀➷ TOO MUCH LOVE, TOO MANY THOUGHTS : SHANKS AND MIHAWK

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : You love your partners, you really do, but sometimes those voices inside you gain control over your body, making you withdraw into your own fears and feelings. Good for you that your partners won't give up on having you by their side.

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : MALE! READER, M! READER, NOT POLY! The reader can be Trans or Cis, talking about homophobia but nothing happens, a lot of talk about insecurities in a romantic relationship, talk about anxiety and fear

꒰ WC ꒱ : 2,4k at all, 1k for Shanks and 1,4 for Mihawk

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : Hey thanks for this request! It had been some months and I don't have any idea if you are still there but anyway thanks for that, that request is part of the first ask I received when I opened for male reader so this means a lot to me. The ask doesn't talk too much about the insecurities of the reader because I wanted that you guys could imagine your own, here talk more about how they would handle and help you. Enjoy!

★彡 Shanks

It may not seem like it, but the redhead is a master at reading people, all it takes is a few nervous glances and body language and he knows exactly what the problem is.

However, while he knows what the problem is, he is not that good at knowing the best solution for it. Part of him just wants to grab you and say "stop with that and let's just kiss." Luckily he knows that not everyone works like him, so he is able to understand that you may have different limits and such a direct approach can make the situation worse and even push you away from him.

So, firstly, he tries to understand exactly why you are suffering from so much anxiety when it comes to spending time with him and having more physical touch. Are you ashamed or afraid of doing PDA because of prejudiced looks since you are both men? Are you afraid that he will reject you if you show this need for time and affection? Are you publicly ashamed of others? Regardless of what's going through your head, Shanks wants to understand so he can give you truer love.

When he has a little idea or some theories, which he will achieve after observing you a lot in various situations and talking to all the other men on the ship, he will try to talk to you. Of course he will never force you into anything, he just wants to try to understand and maybe ease this weight that you are carrying alone. Even if you just want to scream or ramble without knowing exactly how to express your feelings and anxiety, he wants to be there for you, to show that he is willing to listen to you, understand you, especially validate and support you. He wants you to see that he is there for you in every situation.

Whether you decide to speak or not, the outcome changes very little. The difference being that having talked to you, Shanks will be able to understand you more easily, thus being able to make fewer mistakes in his attempts to help you and make you more comfortable with everything. If you don't decide to talk, he will be forced to make several trials and errors on how to make the environment more favorable for you to feel comfortable and overcome your anxiety, so you can give in to your desires for physical touch and spend more time with him. quietly.

Since you may have anxiety about initiating contact, Shanks will do all the hard work for you. Which, let's be honest, isn't very difficult, the redhead adores you like a loyal servant to a god, he can't keep his hands off you. It may seem funny to others to see a pirate as strong as a stray puppy following you, especially when they discover that Shanks' lover is a man, but what can he do... He is a man completely in love with you .

It's not uncommon for him to go after you, but if he notices your difficulty in initiating contact, he'll go even more after his presence. Every time he is free on the ship he will come after you, suggesting that you play a game, have a snack, talk, dance, sleep, he never runs out of ideas knowing that coming up first with a goal can make you calmer since you will just need to go with the flow and not think about everything on your own.

With physical touch, the difference is that he will pay extra attention to your comfort, it is normal that every time you are on land he is glued to your side. Holding hands or a hand around his waist practically hugging you, he just doesn't want to let go of you. In bars or any other establishment he would like to sit next to you, he would never put you on his lap, wishing that this choice came from you first. Shanks doesn't want you to feel humiliated or insulted by him wanting you on his lap, especially if you're nervous about showing affection publicly because you're both men.

But that doesn't stop him from having some physical contact, when his hand isn't occupied he'll put it on your thigh or your hand on the table, if he's drinking he'll leave his foot close to yours or even leave his foot close to yours. His leg pressed against yours. Even if it's small touches, he wants to show you that he wants to touch you just as much as you want to touch him. On the ship things are easier, he can simply hide the two of you in your shared room, thus avoiding the teasing of your crewmates and also having a little more privacy.

In the end he will just try to demonstrate that he wants your touch and attention as much as you do. He knows that actions can be stronger than words and he firmly believes that, so he will always be by your side to show you that he would never turn down spending time with you or having a make-out session. You are his boyfriend, after all! The man he loves and would do anything to see smile, he could never get tired of you.

Shanks' greatest happiness will be seeing you slowly loosen up and work on your anxiety better. When you start spending time together or touching, he will be celebrating inside. In the end, he just wants your attention and for you to show how much you love him, so he will never refuse if you want to spend time together. And even if it takes a while, even if you don't touch him for months, even if you need to talk a lot until you feel more confident, he doesn't mind at all. You are the one he loves and he would do anything for you, no effort is too much, you are worth everything he has to face and suffer, and he will accept it with a smile on his face.

If you think Shanks is easy to notice his difficulties then it only takes Mihawk an instant to notice something wrong. The difference is that the redhead will consider that some of the reasons for your anxiety could be external stimuli such as other people, reputation, shame or fear... Mihawk is a little more insecure at this point.

★彡Mihawk

His early theories for your anxiety and difficulty having quality time and physical touch with him is that the culprit is, well... Him. Are you no longer in love with him? Don't you feel comfortable? Not attracted? Is he not that interesting of a person to spend time with or is he not good at physical touch? It doesn't matter, he would initially think that it must be something he did that caused his estrangement.

He would have a few moments alone to consider everything, perhaps you no longer enjoy being in that castle without anyone's company but his. When he manages to calm his mind and open himself to any possibility, whether good or bad, he finally decides to talk to you. Luckily, Mihawk is extremely verbally expressive and is very good at communicating, so even if you were just rambling and getting lost in your own words, he will be able to understand you or even help you with how to express yourself better.

The conversation may seem a little suffocating due to Mihawk's firm gaze, but you've been his lover for long enough that he only pays attention to you like that. Furthermore, you can see a worried touch and even a loving look if you pay close attention to the way he looks at you.

Other than that, he is extremely patient with you, he will listen to you for as long as necessary and will only speak if you allow it and feel comfortable discussing it at that moment. Then he will try to analyze the entire situation to better understand your fears, insecurity, anything that is making you anxious and pushing you away from him. He will never judge any of your motives or tell you they are silly, no matter if you were just shy, if you were nervous about appearing clingy, if you were too nervous about his beauty? It doesn't make any difference why, if it bothers you in some way, then it's totally important and valid for him.

And just as he doesn't care about the reasons, he also doesn't care about the solutions to help you with your problems. He loves you with all the depth and loyalty he could have, so he is also willing to give his blood and sweat for the good of your relationship. For Mihawk it's more than fair for both lovers to make an effort, especially when one of them is in trouble, so not for a second does he think of you or this whole situation as a burden. He loves you and you love him, you are partners, you are the man he chose to spend the rest of his life with, if he doesn't make the slightest effort in trying to keep the relationship on good terms then he doesn't deserve you. That's why he will always do his best.

After that he will try to make everything easier for you, he might give you a few peaceful days without looking for contact, wanting you to breathe before facing your problems. After that he will begin his plan to slowly make you approach him again and feel comfortable coming to him whenever you want... And well, maybe he will be much happier when he can finally touch you again and spend time with you. , it may not seem like it, but Mihawk also really wants your company and the idea of being without it makes him extremely moody.

He will initially try to recapture the moments together, quality time is easier for Mihawk and he thinks that starting with that is the best way for the two of you to get closer again, after all you wouldn't be forced into any touching if you weren't already completely safe. Then he will reminisce about some of the activities you used to enjoy doing together, be it reading in each other's company during a calm evening, the sound of the fireplace and the birds outside providing a more peaceful environment for you to relax your mind and let go of the anxiety. go away. He will also invite you to garden together. If you don't like getting dirty he will just talk to you and ask for your help. That doesn't make you put your hands in the dirt. However, if you like it, he will be very happy to teach you or listen to his teachings. He will work in the garden while you talk about where you could use those vegetables. If you want, he can also help you make a flower garden or plant anything else you like.

He will also love your company in the kitchen, he may use the excuse of testing new recipes to include you more, maybe he will even try to make something that you like to eat from another island. If you cook, like it or want to learn, he doesn't mind your help either, as long as you are happy and coming out of your shell, forgetting your anxiety and allowing yourself to be comfortable and doing what you love again, he is satisfied. Also, he may start trying to initiate physical touches, if you are a swordsman he will love some sparring sessions with you, although he won't go easy on you. After all, you are a man and a worthy opponent, you can notice that his movements are much more sensual and loving, it is as if he is trying to seduce you, win you over again and using all his body language in favor of this.

If you don't fight or don't want to learn, although Mihawk would love to teach you, he can still think of other activities with physical touch. His favorite is dancing. You will find him the most patient and dedicated partner possible, if you understand dancing he will even let you guide, moving and handling his body as you wish. Furthermore, he could even go into activities outside of his standard if that could help him relax and be calmer with touch. Trying on clothes? You have Dracule's entire wardrobe at your disposal, luckily you are both men so this part is easier. Messing with hair? Of course, go ahead and touch his black hair, if you have longer hair he will enjoy learning how to style it or take care of it.

Other than that, once he notices you getting more comfortable, he'll go back to the subtle physical touches. Mihawk is not the type of lover who devours you in public, but you will always find his hand on your back, either guiding you or just making it clear that he is there. He will also offer his hand to help you get up or down from places, a hand on your shoulder or arm if you are in a situation where he wants to make it obvious that he has you and that he won't let anything bad happen.

He doesn't like more sensual touches in public, so in the privacy of four walls you will have more of that, light touches on your neck or your thigh, but they still won't be perverted touches, just a more romantic and deep touch, something he wants to keep for your eyes only.

Mihawk is a lover who is slower to deal with his anxiety, he in no way wants you to feel pressured, so he will wait with open arms when you are ready to regain intimacy. He'd also hate for you to feel like you're obligated to have this kind of intimacy with him, so he also doesn't mind if you don't like the closeness. In the end the truth is just unique, in Mihawk's eyes you are the perfect man, if you don't like so much intimacy and touching he is satisfied with that, if you like touching and want to be with him 24/7 he will too be more than satisfied. He needs you, everything you give him will be a gift. Therefore, even though he seems like a stoic and even cold man, Mihawk would never deny or be ashamed of your touch, you are the only one who can do whatever you want and he will never be bothered by it.

[pepsiboyy]

beyond the contract - part 4

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8

pairing: matt sturniolo x reader summary: where the sturniolo triplets are part of an organization known as the eclipse alliance, matt has constantly failed to pull through with pulling the trigger on a target. fed up, their boss gives matt one last chance, where he is sent to northside high school to get some answers out of a girl. warnings: cursing, mentions of drugs and a lot of mafia shit??, some smooches rahh author's note: HI FRIENDS!!! lots of important context in this chapter, i hope it's a good one <3 back to reader pov next chapter!! some fun sibling banter too yayyy also yes i Did delete this chapter on accident after LITERALLY FINISHING IT. :D WC: 2024 (lol xd) lowercase intentional !!

i couldn't help but allow my gaze to linger across matt's features as he kept his eyes on the road, a hand on the wheel and the other on his own leg.

matt seemed to pick up on this as he turned to face me, his eyebrows furrowed. "what's your deal?" he smiled.

"where are you taking me?" i questioned.

matt and i were having our first date today. it had been about a week since he asked me that night at the pond.

"uhh, well.." matt trailed off. "i don't like crazy stuff, i could only think of more chill stuff, so…" he trailed off.

"soo..?" i continued for him and smiled as he shot me a joking death glare.

"we're going to an art museum?" he stated, but it was more of a question as he turned to me for half a second and back at the road.

i gasped and clasped my hands together. "i've never really been to one!" i chuckled as i looked out the window at the trees passing by.

matt just smiled softly to himself as he continued to drive. he really hadn't been to one either, but he knew that wherever you two went, it would be a fun time.

-

"where's matt?" chris called to nick from the kitchen.

nick was laying against their couch, his eyes glued to his phone. while they had a lot to do, he needed the break more than anything. he scrolled through his phone as he let out a deep sigh. "i don't know, chris, he's probably out getting tutored. or his dick sucked or something."

"ew, nick," chris muttered as he opened the fridge and grabbed a pepsi, moving to take a seat on the couch as well. "gross."

they sat in silence for a few moments before chris cleared his throat and turned to nick. "i talked with the coordinator the other day," he breathed, and nick immediately dropped his phone and gave chris his full attention. he nodded his head at him with wide eyes as if to say, 'go on.' chris let out a deep sigh as he messed with his hair. "it.. didn't really go well. we need to break the news to matt soon. or else.." he trailed off.

"or else what?" nick muttered, before he sat up from his previous laying down position to look at chris. "what, chris?" he repeated, shifting to be directly in front of the younger's face.

chris immediately shoved him out from in front of him. "no need to be so close, god," he muttered before he shrugged. "he said he'd complete the mission himself." he stated.

nick blinked a few times before he let out a deep sigh. he leaned back against the couch as they both stared at the ceiling.

"nick… how did we get into this situation?" he questioned, almost as a whisper as he turned to the oldest triplet. "to be completely honest, i don't really know why we're doing this all. i just want to be with my brothers. but it doesn't make sense to me. why are we killing people, why are we kicking up dirt on people and.. why are we getting each other involved so severely? we both know matt wants nothing to do with it, and i'm not entirely sure i want to be involved either." he trailed off, and nick simply listened to him.

"it's… a long story." he stated softly, but his eyes closed.

"i have time." chris stated firmly, sitting up to listen to nick.

"okay well, are you gonna interrupt me every five seconds? that'll make this five hours longer than it needs to be." nick spat, but chris only cracked a smile.

"no, just get to it kid," he responded as he took a sip of his pepsi.

nick took a deep breath before starting. "well, as you know, the eclipse alliance prioritizes discipline, order within ranks, and most of all, loyalty. the alliance was established decades ago amongst a few teenagers who seeked power, wealth and control. they got this tightly knit group and developed a hierarchy structure. with their goal to expand their influence, the alliance grew rapidly. this caused them to expand to various legal enterprises including smuggling, extortion, drug trafficking, and money laundering-"

"nick, stop with the big words, bro. i understood maybe half of what you just said." chris stated blankly, but he was clearly interested in the topic.

nick rolled his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. "anyways. we got involved with eclipse alliance because.. well.. we had financial struggles growing up," nick stated bluntly, shrugging as he stared into space in front of him. considering they lived from ten onward without parents, nick took initiative at a young age to try and keep him and his brothers stable. "since around when i had joined eclipse alliance, black veil operations emerged as a challenger to us. their logo is a silhouette of a woman with a veil and a growing flame behind it." nick stopped to take a soft breath before continuing. "they were fueled by the desire to trial their dominance and establish themselves as a rival power." nick took a deep breath as he looked at chris, who was listening closely. "while eclipse alli-"

brrr.

nick cringed at chris, who let out probably the most disgusting burp known to man. "can you fucking listen?" he spat, and chris immediately threw his hands up and pointed at his pepsi. after a few moments, nick continued. "while eclipse alliance prioritizes hierarchy, order and loyalty, black veil operations takes a more decentralized approach to their operations. they're known for their cunning tactics, flexibility, and willingness to exploit weakness within their rivals, which is us." chris nodded along. "they're determined to undermine the eclipse alliance's power and expand their own influence by using any means necessary."

chris stared at nick and slowly nodded before blinking a few times. "i see. i guess." he thought for a few moments before he shrugged. "i don't know, i think people need to let go of grudges."

nick chuckled and stood up. "what i'm saying. but i did what i could to get us to where we are today. even if it means risking my life, or.. ours, now." he shrugged.

chris nodded and smiled. "thanks for explaining to me, nick."

-

no pov.

the sun had began to set, and matt was now driving home with y/n in his car. when he pulled up in front of your house and noticed the empty driveway, he cocked an eyebrow. "business trip?"

you smiled and nodded to him, shrugging as you began to get out of the car.

matt quickly followed and got out with you.

your first date was great. matt felt like he had an amazing time with you. he loved the way your hand felt in his, like they perfectly molded together. but now it was time for matt's plan to end the night. he smiled at you as he bit his lip, expression clearly nervous.

you seemed to quickly pick up on this and spoke up, "you okay? what's got you so nervous?" she questioned, and matt internally cursed at himself.

"i uhh. got you something? but don't be weird about it." he breathed as he watched you stare blankly at him. fuck, he felt so shy. this was the worst moment to start kicking himself in the ass. "can you uhh.. turn around?" he chuckled nervously when you looked at him confused before you obeyed and turned around, moving your hands over your eyes.

matt bit his lip as he pulled a few things out from his car.

"y- you can turn around now," he stammered.

you did just that, and upon turning around, your jaw dropped.

matt had a small posterboard with "PROM?" written on it, and a bouquet of flowers in one hand that held the sign while his other just held it tightly.

"you're such a dork," you whispered as you smiled and stepped towards him, carefully taking the bouquet of flowers to relieve him of awkwardly holding them with the poster.

"i know you really wanted to go to prom, and… i don't, but. if it'll make you happy," he trailed off, and tried to bite back a smile as he watched you smile in awe at him.

"i'd love to." you responded.

matt smiled warmly at you. his heart was racing. to get answers out of this girl, did he need to ask her to prom? no. but did he really, genuinely care about this girl and what she truly wanted? yes.

they stared at each other for a few moments as matt put his arms down, letting the sign sit at his feet. he hadn't even realized how close together you guys were now, standing between his car and the curb.

you both smiled at each other, you faces both a shade of pink.

how could this girl have any ties with black veil operations, matt thought to himself. she was an innocent girl, a beautiful innocent girl. a sweetheart. his internal dialogue rambled, but it immediately came to a halt when he felt your lips press against his.

his eyes widened for a moment before they fluttered shut and he felt his hands subconsciously move to your waist.

when you pulled away, matt stared at you for a few moments, his eyes wide, and yours were just as wide.

just as you were about to apologize for the action, matt gently squeezed your hand.

"wanna come inside for a bit?" you asked, and matt felt his stomach turn.

-

chris groaned as he turned to the clock beside him. matt was supposed to be home an hour ago. he sighed as he set his headset down and carefully picked up his phone, pulling up matt's contact and shooting him a text.

chris:

hey wya??

-

matt allowed a soft groan to leave him upon feeling a hand of yours run up his side and gently along his back.

'wanna come inside for a bit' led to you both against your living room couch with matt on top of you.

matt gently ran a hand down your side and tucked it under the hem of your shirt, his cheeks burning pink as he stopped.

the way you smiled against his lips and parted your own softly gave him enough permission to gently tuck his fingers under the hem.

matt couldn't help but glance down at the now exposed skin under your shirt before an inked spot on your skin caught his eye. he immediately halted and turned to the decorated skin, his entire expression falling.

"what's wrong..?" you questioned, sitting up slightly.

"what is this?" matt was pale. he looked up at you, his entire demeanor changing.

you smiled nervously as you looked away. "ahh, i don't know.. i've had it since i was like twelve." you chuckled, but your smile faltered when you looked up at matt.

matt let in a deep breath as he stood up and checked his phone. 12:37am.

"fuck, i promised chris i'd play fortnite with him." matt chuckled as he shoved his phone in his pocket.

"are you okay?" you questioned, scrambling to your feet and straightening out your disheveled clothes and hair.

matt smiled reassuringly at you and nodded, walking to the door. after walking outside, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips that lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away and hugged you tightly. "thank you for today, i had an amazing time." he whispered against your ear.

you nodded softly and hugged him back.

as matt began to walk to his car, he smiled brightly at you and waved. he got in his car and started it, driving away once you re-entered your house. he drove down the street before he pulled over and buried his face in his hands. the only thing he could think of what the inked skin just above your pelvis.

a silhouette of a woman with a veil and a growing flame behind it.

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