#transformers was one of the first shows i can remember watching

[redpill-tfs]

Hey, I was talking to some guys that were coming out of a gym about the red pill and they said that it might help me bulk up a bit since I am scrawny. I don't feel well. I think I took the wrong red pill.

That's strange. I do outsource some red pills to some alpha jock bros every once in a while, so it may have been one of them. Let me check the records and see if there's anything there. It will just take me a few moments.

Ah, yeah I see it. This bro found some weak scrawny liberal guy in front of the gym and thought he needed fixing. That must've been you, bro. It looks like you did take the right red pill, but its effects have been delayed slightly. Usually the transformation should be instantaneous. I guess this one is just taking a bit longer.

According to my notes, the bros thought you might need some help fitting in at the gym. They have a certain image they try to uphold, you see. You should be developing a lot of muscle soon. The biggest biceps you've ever seen, combined with absolutely massive pecs. It'll be tough to find any shirts that fit your new size. You'll probably be able to dead lift 400 pounds easily.

That's not to say you skip leg day, of course. Those massive tree trunks prove otherwise. And your feet will grow in size considerably, up to a size 15. I know some guys will absolutely want to sniff 'em. You probably could make loads of money on those homos. As you should. Being in your thirties can get expensive sometimes.

Your tattered clothes will begin to reform themselves to fit your new dudebro persona as you enter the gym. A solid pair of compression shorts and a red t shirt, perfect for working out in. As a bonus, you'll also receive a red hat. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you what it says. It's your favorite slogan after all.

You love wearing that hat, don't you? It shows everyone you mean business and you're not afraid to show your beliefs. Sure you get some looks for it, but fuck those libtards, right? Real men will get the message. That's also why you wear that cross around your neck at all times. What kind of Christian would you be if you didn't show off your faith to everyone? People see you and think "That guy's got it all figured out." They especially love your beard and keep it maintained. The ladies love it!

You head over to the weights as the mental changes kick in more. Your brain slows down a little, not needing a lot of its extra processing power. It's okay though. You'll forget you were ever smart in the first place. You don't need to know much anyway. You only need to focus on a few things anyway for your new life.

Bros, to drink a cold beer with while watching the game. Also someone to spot you while you work out.

Chicks, to fuck of course. Nothing gets you harder than thinking about breeding her and bringing another conservative alpha into the world.

Queers, to stick in their place. They belong under you, a true alpha male, sniffing your feet or sucking you off. No homo, of course.

Faith, to guide your values. You attend church every Sunday without exception. You're on great terms with your pastor, who taught you everything you need to know about being on top.

Trump, to guide your politics. You know RIGHT is right and those communists and illegals just want free stuff from your hard earned money. They may have won some battles in the past, but never the war, and you're excited to see Trump's legacy continue into a second term.

You finish your bench presses, getting ready to meet with your first client of the day. You remember you're a personal trainer at this gym, getting those bros to become even stronger and more dominant.

By the time you get this message, I'm sure the changes will have happened. If that's the case, feel free to ignore this and go about your day, as nothing in this should be new to you. But if you ever see a scrawny looking guy at your gym who looks out of place, I'll send you some red pills just in case. You'll know what to do with them.

[king-dra]

its honestly kind of insane how much of my childhood was shaped by giant robots

[reignpage]

Basketball Captain!Toji

Indiana Pacers: faking left

Contents: 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni, bts of a modern au!smau, cursing, mixed content (f/a/s), time reader and Toji spent as roommates, not proofread

Dear Diary,

Who would have thought that you’d be welcoming Toji into your apartment as a roommate for an indefinite amount of time?

It was weird to watch him eye your place and throw his duffel bag onto the couch before plopping himself down with a grunt. He’d been kicked out and you were both to blame. Having just gone on a run, he was surprised, and impressed he admitted to you, that Sukuna had managed to change the locks whilst he was gone. 

At least, the man had enough love in his cold, dead heart to leave a bag full of clothes — even if those clothes were mostly pyjama shirts, all the boxers in Toji’s drawer, one pair of sock (it had Gojo’s face on it and Toji explained it was a birthday gift that he has no plans of ever using), and one singular shoe.

It’d been five days since you’ve both been punished simultaneously and you’ve compiled your observations, none you’re allowed to publish, however, since apparently being made excommunicado from your own apartment is ‘humiliating’. 

So, here is a summary:

Roommate!Toji is surprisingly clean. He's insistent on certain things. Certainly not OCD about it, but he washes his plates, and yours, straight away, reasoning that since you cooked, it’s only right that he tidies up. He leaves them in the sink to soak before diligently scrubbing and drying. It’s common sense, of course, yet so shocking you just had to write it down.

But he's also messy. He leaves his gym bag, half opened, dirty towel just wallowing in sweat, on the floor. You've tripped over it so many times you've considered burning the damn bag. And his socks, oh god, his socks. He bought more since Sukuna wouldn't answer his messages and they've been scattered all over your place. Sock on the kitchen counter, sock in the crevices of the sofa, sock under the bed, sock on your desk, sock by the front door. It's like you're eat, sleep and breathing socks.

And if you have to say sock one more time you might just...

Let's leave it at that.

Roommate!Toji doesn’t like horror movies. He hates the romcoms you suggest and would much rather watch things like Transformers and Fast and Furious. Classic guy stuff. It’s been a constant battle for the remote, but if you offer something up, then you’ve found he’s a lot more receptive to your choices. 

This leads to your next observation. 

Roommate!Toji is hyper-sexual. If you want to watch 10 Things I Hate About You, then you’ll have to let him throatfuck you until you’re teary eyed and speechless. On the flip side, if he really wants to watch a basketball game, then he’s lifting you onto his lap, sliding your shorts off and pushing your panties to the side to wring orgasms out of you. One for every shot his favourite team makes. This sometimes means you’re left wet, gasping and gaping at nothing. And the other times, you’re being forced to cum and cum and cum until you’re so sure you’ve came as much as the universe could possibly allow anyone in one lifetime. 

He proves you wrong. 

Roommate!Toji isn't the only one who's got sex on their mind. That became abundantly clear on the first night when he promised to 'behave' to show his gratitude for your act of kindness. You replied with a 'good' and left it at that. However, it quickly started to gnaw at you. The way you were cuddled next to him on the sofa, all warm under the blanket, eating popcorn, watching some show you can't even remember now, and he wasn't squeezing your tit or kneading your ass like he used to before.

So, whilst he was into the show, you snuck your hand underneath, rubbing it against the bulge of his sweats and ignoring his amused huff. You felt him harden in your palm, and the promise of the stretch made your mouth and your pussy moisten. You whispered in his ear, 'can I just sit on it, please?'

He almost choked on a popcorn.

There were no other words exchanged, he just shoved his stupidly big hand down your panties and stretched you out on his fingers, taking all the time in the world, as he always did, knowing the kind of damage his even more stupidly big cock could do.

And then you were sinking down, back to his chest, as you continued to watch the show.

Despite turning out to be almost just as horny as he is, ultimately, it was the captain who just struggled to control himself. This brings you to your next point.

Roommate!Toji can’t keep his hands off of you. When you’re cooking, he comes up behinds you, grinds his already half-hard dick into your ass, groping your hip, stomach and tits like they owe him money. Then he’ll whisper ‘smell so good, ma’ or ‘am fucking starved, doll’ into your ear, and you find that dinner has to be pushed back an hour. Even if you’re passing by him to get a glass of water, he’s gripping your hip to still you, just so he can land a harsh smack that leaves your ass burning and jiggling for his viewing pleasure.

Roommate!Toji must be restrained at night. Even completely knackered from a whole day’s practice, he still finds the energy to wrestle you into his favourite position: face down, ass up. He’ll plow into you at an unforgiving pace, seeking out the shrieks of complete and utter pleasure from you, wanting to see his cock coated in your wetness. Or when you arrive late, having had an assignment to finish off in the library, and he’s already fallen asleep, you’ll lay beside him and doze off. 

And then…

Roommate!Toji has a somno kink! You figured that out a while back, when you first started sleeping together. Often waking up, with his hands on you, sucking a hickey on your neck. He never went farther, seemingly just enjoying the feel of your soft skin. Your ex was never so passionate, rarely ever even cuddled. Toji, on the other hand, seemed to seek you out even in his sleep. 

It makes your heart blush.

Roommate!Toji brings out hidden desires in you. Turns out, you also like somnophilia. You like waking up to his head between your legs, or his cock rubbing against that rubbery part of you that has you seeing stars. And you like, just as much, creeping under covers, pulling down his boxers, and waking him up with his cock down your throat. 

Of course, all that being said, it hasn’t just been pure sex. 

Roommate!Toji is a surprisingly good cook. You had expected him to be the type to order takeout, or eat ready made meals. But, and now that you think about it, you really shouldn’t have been so shocked, he’s quite rigid with his meal plans. He knows just how much protein and calories he’s taking in, he’s always snacking on fruit salads which he’ll share with you, and he shakes his head with a playful disappointment when you pop a candy instead in your mouth. 

Roommate!Toji is a great help around the apartment. He’ll grumble and call you a pussy when you shriek over a spider, cupping it in his hands and throwing it out without another word. It’s really nice not to have to do gymnastics or parkour to reach the cups at the top shelves, just have to beckon him over and he’s grabbing it for you with a lopsided grin, taking the opportunity to pin you against the counter and imposing his intimidating height, almost like a toll.

It gets you so wet when he helps you out. 

Roommate!Toji, despite being an athlete who has to wake up early for practice, is not a morning person. Sure, he’ll get up and do whatever he has to. But he won’t like it. And he makes it known. In the mornings when he needs to train or go for a run, he’s muttering curses and stretching with annoyance. But, when he’s got nothing on and his body still rouses from the routine, he’ll just lie there, sometimes on his phone, waiting for you. And other times, when he simply just cannot wait a second longer, he’ll play with your hair, enjoying the scent of your conditioner. 

You’ve caught him, a couple times, scanning your features with a small smile he didn’t realise he had. 

Roommate!Toji is shit at getting groceries. He always forgets something, whether that’s toothpaste, bread, eggs, milk, tissues and so on and so forth. It’s hilarious to think he can remember so many strategies, game plans, NBA stats, but when it comes to simple household items, he has not a clue. 

Roommate!Toji is ticklish. This is the best observation. Despite being all big and strong and oh so tough, the man squirms when your dancing fingers go anywhere near his waist or neck. He'll push you away with a string of curses, rolling his eyes at your giggles. And when you step closer for another attack, he'll twist you into a headlock. The man loves his headlocks. Says he does it all the time to his brother. In the midst of a full nelson, a 'punishment' of his, he made you promise not to do it again.

And when he's bullying his fat cock head inside your gummy walls, kissing your cervix with every thrust, it's just too hard to keep your wits about you. Which he knows very well. What he doesn't know, however, is that you had your fingers crossed.

You'll pull out your killing blow some other time, that's for sure.

Roommate!Toji doesn’t care what people think. Not really. Even though you’re a nobody and there are girls always cheering for him and waiting for him outside his classes or the court, his eyes find yours through the crowd. During an exhilarating game that converted you into a basketball tolerant (not a fan just quite yet), every time he scored, yours meet his. 

It doesn’t mean anything. 

He was merely looking to see if you had seen how impressive it was. 

Or maybe there was someone behind you that caught his eye, perhaps someone flashed him. 

You don’t want to know. 

You can’t know. 

Roommate!Toji is moving back out today. He’s taken the basketball that laid around in the corner of the living room, the varsity jacket hanging on the door, and green toothbrush that stood next to your baby blue one. He’s packing up as you write this and neither of you are saying anything. 

There really isn’t anything to say. 

You both knew this would have to end eventually, in fact, you had been complaining every time he left the toilet seat up or left water marks on your coffee table or every time he wouldn’t let you get up from bed to use the toilet because he’s ‘too comfortable’ or because ‘you’re so warm’. 

Roommate!Toji points to a gift bag pushed behind some textbooks on your desk. You pause. He asks you what it is and you have nothing to say. He wasn’t supposed to ask, he should have pretended he didn’t see it, just as he had been since he first walked into your room with his bag.

The answer’s already hanging in the air, like a ball skirting around the edge of the hoop, waiting to drop, either in or out. 

Neither of you are willing to bet. 

So, you kiss Roommate!Toji goodbye, slapping his wandering hands away and he’s telling you he’ll text. 

And whether he will or will not, doesn’t really matter, because you’ve got some papers to write. 

But you hope he does. 

[marvelouslizzie]

Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: Your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it's impossible to avoid serving him for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, alcohol, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: @notafunkiller and I merged our separate ideas into one and this is the outcome. It was so much fun to write. We hope it'll me the same while reading too.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

You thought this night would be calm and easy, that nothing significant would happen. All that changed when Bucky Barnes set foot in the bar. It’s not his first time here by any means, but until now you successfully managed to avoid him by asking the other bartender to serve his side. This time, unfortunately, you are working alone. It’s a slow night, so there’s no way you can really avoid him.

You watch him find an empty place and sit down, and you really don’t know what to do. You can feel yourself sweating already. You are so nervous. Not because you are afraid of him or anything. He doesn’t look scary. Not to you. You are afraid to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you should be able to ask for his order and serve it without messing it up. That’s not so hard. 

Just keep it simple, you tell yourself.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Bucky looks up from his phone straight into your eyes, and you freeze a little.

“Hello, do you... a draft beer, please.”

His answer confuses you. That’s not his usual order. 

“You sure you don’t want something stronger? We have that bourbon.” You curse yourself internally for paying attention and not being able to hold your tongue.

He raises his eyebrow surprised. “How do you know that? There is no way you served me any drinks cause I would remember you.”

He frowns as soon as he finishes speaking. Maybe you helped your colleague or maybe you were informed about what he drinks just in case he showed up. He’s still the Winter Soldier after all.

“I never served you before.” You say with a shy smile. You hope this is enough of an answer for him.

“Do I look like a bourbon man?” He asks playfully before giving you a smile that transforms his face a little, softening his features. 

“You look like you enjoy quality stuff, and between you and me, our draft beer is shitty.”

That comment makes him chuckle. You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t notice how his eyes fall straight to your breasts.

“Thanks for the tip. Normal beer then?”

“If you insist.” You smile and open the small fridge under the bar where you keep some of the beers. You quickly open it and put it right in front of him, not realizing that gesture shows off your bartender skills a little bit.

He doesn’t look away from you as he takes a big sip before placing the bottle on the table quickly.

“For how long have you been working here?”

“For the past year.” You avoid making eye contact while drying some of the freshly washed glasses.

“Oh.” He sounds kind of taken aback. “I’m surprised you never served me. I’ve been coming here for what? Seven months?”

“Eight.” You bite your bottom lip as soon as the word slips out, trying to shut yourself up so you won’t mess up even more. What were you thinking? Well, you weren't…

His eyes immediately glow, and you wonder if you fucked up for good.

“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He brings the bottle to his mouth and before you can say anything, you watch him finishing it in one go.

“I just noticed you.” Of course, you kept an eye on him, but you played it down a little.

“Well, I didn’t notice you,” he says regretfully. “And I wonder how. I am pretty aware of my surroundings... especially if they are full of beautiful people like you.”

You can’t help but blush, yet you try to sound unaffected. You don’t know if you succeed or not, though.

“This place is usually so crowded and full of… people. So it’s normal.”

“Neah,” he denies immediately. “Have you been hiding or something?”

“I was just on the other side of the bar.” And you were trying to hide from him, saving yourself from this embarrassment because you knew if you talked to him you would fuck up. You were right.

“So I was on the wrong side this whole time.” He shakes his head. “Another beer, please, doll.”

“The same?” You ask while trying not to dwell on the pet name he uses.

“Yes, please. And one drink for you. Whatever you want, if you are allowed to drink, of course.”

The way he offers to buy you a drink surprises you. You feel quite nervous, but you try to maintain your calm. He’s probably just being nice, right? 

“I am allowed to drink, but that’s not necessary.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean you need to talk to me for it, doll. There are no conditions for this drink.”

“Oh.” You didn’t even think he would take it this way. “That’s not why I said it’s not necessary. I wasn’t worried about that.”

“Okay. Whatever you want... I won’t insist.”

“It’s just… I am allowed to drink whatever I want. You don’t need to pay for it.” You try to explain so he won’t take it the wrong way.

“Alright,” he says, a little distant, as you open up another bottle of beer and put it in front of him. 

“I just didn’t want you to pay extra when I can get it for free.” You don’t know why you are explaining yourself like this. It’s normal not to accept drinks from customers.

“It’s fine, I totally understand. Thank you!” He reaches for the bottle immediately.

You take a fancy glass out of the rack and pour yourself one of the ready-to-serve cocktails that your colleague prepared, right in front of him. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps staring at your hands.

“Thanks for the drink.” You say while putting the bottle away.

“Me?” He asks surprised. “Thought this is on the bar.”

“Well, you gave me the idea, and if you really insist on spending your money so unnecessarily, who am I to stop you?”

“That’s a good attitude.” He smiles again before bringing his bottle close to your glass. “Cheers to a good Thursday in a lovely company.”

You clink your glass with a smile on your face. It seems like he finally understood your intention, so you feel relieved. 

“How does that taste?”

“Don’t let the color fool you, it tastes really strong but delicious.” You look at him for a second and notice that got his interest. “Wanna taste it?” You offer your own drink to him, and he contemplates for a few seconds before leaning in.

“Yes, I am curious.”

You hand the glass to him. Your fingers touch for a second, and you get so excited that you worry about dropping the glass. It’s like your heart is in your throat.

“Your hands are cold,” he comments casually before taking a sip right from the spot covered by your lipstick. You gasp. You have no idea if he did it on purpose, but the way he’s drinking it… your body is responding to that so much. You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down. 

“Delicious.” He smiles, handing back your glass, and you notice a bit of lipstick in the corner of his mouth.

It creates this internal dilemma. Should you just let him know about it or act like nothing happened and let him walk around like this? The second one could cause him a lot of embarrassment, and you don’t wanna be the reason for that. That’s why you suddenly find yourself leaning closer to him, just to wipe the lipstick off. He doesn’t move an inch, not jumping like you would expect, letting you touch him. When you realize what you are doing, you suddenly feel super self-conscious. 

“You…” You gulp down. “You have… lipstick on… just here.” 

You keep rubbing your finger against the corner of his mouth. You feel his stubble and how soft his lips are, but you try not to think about it. He chuckles, covering your hand with his. It surprises you so much that you freeze for a second. Then you look into his eyes, struggling to see if you made him feel uncomfortable or not.

“So considerate of you. Thank you.”

You move your hand away from his mouth but not away from his touch. Somehow you can’t find the strength to do that. 

What he does next, though, makes you completely breathless. He brings your hand to his mouth again, but this time he presses his lips gently against your skin, smiling right after. Your eyes open with surprise, feeling completely speechless, yet you don’t move away. You don’t even realize you are smiling slightly.

“Your hands are still so cold.”

“Yeah…” You try to speak, but it feels like your words are stuck in your throat. “They are always cold.”

“We need to change that.” He places another kiss on your hand.

*

He’s surprisingly nervous as he leads you to the living room. Based on his confidence back in the bar, you didn’t expect him to become so shy all of a sudden.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“No.” You answer quickly. The only thing you want is to feel his lips again but you keep that thought to yourself.

“What do you want then?” 

It’s obvious in his tone and the way he looks at you he doesn’t ask you about drinks.

“You.” You can’t believe you said this out loud, but it’s the truth.

He doesn’t need another push as he comes closer, grabbing you by the chin. Your lips crash together with an almost desperate hunger. He takes the opportunity immediately, getting his tongue inside your mouth in a fervent exploration. The sensation is electrifying.

You let him explore your mouth while you focus on his taste. It’s so unique and tasty, you just can’t get enough of it. Your hands slowly move toward the back of his head, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels your touch, breaking the kiss just to move his lips to your neck. 

“Mhmm… James.” His lips feel so good against your neck. It just sends a jolt of arousal through your body.

But then he freezes, with his mouth glued to your neck. You open your eyes confused wanting to ask him what happened, and that’s when you realize what you’ve just said.

“You know who I am?” His voice is a warm whisper against your skin.

“Of course, I know who you are.” You make it sound so natural as if there’s no way you wouldn’t know who he is. “You think I go to the houses of men I don’t know?” You say playfully.

“I didn’t mean that...” He raises his head from the crook of your neck just to look you in the eye. “I didn’t mean it offensively, I just wasn’t sure. I’m just stupid, I didn’t expect it.”

“I know who you are, James Bucky Barnes.”

“Fuck,” he groans, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. “Say it again.”

“James Bucky Barnes or just James?”

He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.

He moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom, doll.”

“Why?” You ask innocently as if you don’t know what he means. “Isn’t your couch comfortable enough?”

For him? Sure. But for you?

“The bed is better.”

“Okay.” You sound so obedient suddenly as you wrap your legs around his torso.

He immediately lifts you up without effort, and you smile, letting him carry you toward his room. He’s a super soldier after all. He closes the door with his foot as soon as you’re inside, then he gently puts you on the bed, like he’s afraid you might break. The way he’s acting is so endearing, but you want him to let go really badly. Even the manner he starts to take off your pants is too gentle.

You let him undress you the way he wants, though. Then you move closer to him, taking his clothes off, your movements not as gentle as his. You are impatient and needy. You see him holding his breath when you reach to touch his chest, close to where his metal arm begins, so you lean in to leave a kiss right there. You don’t know if you are crossing a line, but you have to. He should know that this is not something that would bother you, on the contrary, it turns you on even more. When he doesn’t move away from you, you keep kissing around his scars and his chest. Your hand is on his shoulder, gently caressing.

 “That feels so good, doll,” he says with a sigh before he grabs your waist. “but it's time for me to eat.”

You find yourself on your back so suddenly that you don’t even have time to react. He quickly settles between your legs and you understand exactly what he meant. He lifts them enough so you can rest them on his shoulders as he gets more comfortable on his tummy. You feel a hole in your stomach immediately. You can’t believe Bucky is between your thighs, about to eat you out.

He’s taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.

“Come on, James. Don’t tease me.” You look down just to see him smiling.

“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”

“I would enjoy it more if you stopped teasing and started eating.”

Surprisingly, Bucky doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth. 

“Need you to make them wet for me, please.” Even while saying that, he sounded a little too polite.

“On one condition,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “Stop acting like I am made of glass.”

“But you kinda are.”

“I am not. Believe me.”

He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.

“Please.” The way he’s taking his sweet time is so frustrating.

He lets his hand drop and instead of feeling his fingers on your clit, you feel his tongue at the same time he gets a finger inside you. You moan loudly, finally getting what you wanted from the start.

His other hand reaches for yours when he hears you grabbing the sheet, and you immediately hold it, enjoying how his cold metal feels. When you feel the second finger and he scissors both of them inside you, you’re shocked by how close you suddenly are. You can’t help but arch your back and move your hips, needing it faster.

He reads the signals pretty quickly and lets you use his mouth while he keeps pumping his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to gasp, moan, and start to shake because of the pleasure he’s giving you. 

“James! Shit. I’m- gonna… ahh… come.”

You moan louder than you expected, dropping your head against his sheets, possessed by a great wave of pleasure. You want to tell him not to stop anything, but you can’t. And you don’t need to as he keeps licking and fingering you while you ride your orgasm out, prolonging it as much as possible.

When it’s done, you are feeling so good yet you are hungry for more. You raise your head a little and see Bucky still between your legs, but this time his beard is covered with your slick. He looks so handsome. His blue eyes are shining and his hair is all messy. It makes you wanna kiss him and that’s exactly what you do. You reach down to him, and he meets you in the middle, kissing you the way he was just eating you out: with passion and hunger.

He’s less gentle than before as you feel his hands grabbing your breasts, but it’s still not enough. You cover his hands with yours and push him to grab them harder than before. You let out a muffled moan while kissing him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You find yourself blushing like you two aren’t having sex. To mask your reaction, you reach out to his hard cock, gently grabbing it.

“Oh god,” he groans as he instinctively squeeze your breasts harder.

“Mhmm, yes.” You lean into his touch. “Just like that.”

Bucky looks at you as if you said something shocking. Is he not used to communicating during sex?

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re surprising me for someone so delicate.”

“I told you, I am not.”

He smiles. “Do you wanna help me put on a condom then?”

“I would love to, but…” You smile. “What if I told you I am clean and on the pill?”

“Fuck, I need you.” He kisses you suddenly. “Now.”

“I am right here.” It sounds so calming. “You can take me however you want.”

You’re not only on your back in the next second, but you also have his cock lined up at your entrance.

“Jesus, doll! For a pretty little thing, you’re quite nasty.”

“I just know what I want.” And this is it.

He nods, wrapping your legs around his ass at the same time he pushes inside you. In a second, your head is thrown back while you moan loudly. The way he fills you is so delicious. It makes you feel so full but not uncomfortable.

“You’re taking me so well already.”

“Please…” You raise your hips to create more friction. “Please, move.”

He brings his mouth to your breast a little before he starts thrusting, making sure to leave a small hickey right on top of it. It hurts so good, and you moan without holding back. It is music to Bucky’s ears. He just wants to hear it again, so he does it again.

“You want it rough, don’t you?” He thrusts harder than before. “You’re so needy.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is so shaky already. “I told you already.”

“Told me what?” He teases. “I don’t remember.”

“That I am not made of glass.”

“No, you are made for me.” He brings his hand to your face to move the hair strands that cover your eyes. “For my cock.”

“In that case…” You don’t know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from. “You are made for me. To fill me up.” You move your hips again, trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Oh, god. You’re so fucking wet,” he moans. “I am, I’m gonna fill you up so much.” He kisses you suddenly, your teeth almost crashing together because of the thrusts, but you don’t care.

“Can’t wait.” You tease him. “Don’t hold back, okay?”

He says nothing, letting his head drop a little so he can suck on your neck properly. He’s definitely fucking you harder. He pulls until he’s almost completely out of you before thrusting inside you again. And again. And again. It takes your breath away. The way it makes you feel is indescribable. You lose the little remaining control you had and just turn into a moaning mess. 

“Say my name, baby. C-come on.”

“James?” You sound hesitant even if you don’t mean to because you don’t know which name he wants to hear.

“Again,” he begs, his metal arm on your leg pushing it right against his ass.

“James!” This one comes out so naturally. No questions, no hesitation. You just breathe out his name with a moan.

“God, you look so beautiful. So pretty with my cock inside you.” His thrusts get faster, and you have no idea how he can speak so well while you’re a mess.

“I’m so close,” you can barely say without taking a breath in the middle of the sentence.

“What do you want?”

“Just… harder.”

“Like this?” He asks, suddenly thrusting a little harder than before. “Or like this?”

“This! Yes! Just like this!”

“You just want it hard.” He whispers against your ear. “What a dirty girl.”

You hear him, but you can’t respond. You are too busy coming all over his cock, and it feels like you are in heaven. He continues to fuck you as the pleasure fades away, murmuring how pretty you are and how good you make him feel before he comes, too, grabbing the bedpost behind you with his metal arm. It makes a clicking sound, but you don’t care, opening your still foggy eyes just to watch him.

There’s so much come. You can already feel it dripping out of you as he keeps fucking you. You expect it to end soon, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on. The way he loses control as he comes just triggers another orgasm out of you. You would be surprised how quickly you could come again if it didn’t feel overwhelmingly good. You can’t think about anything other than him and the way he makes you feel.

His come is getting all over your thighs and ass, and the bed, as he moans. “Kakaya khoroshaya devochka.” What a good girl.

You can’t help but laugh despite not understanding a word of what he says. “Is that Russian?”

He opens his eyes, and the blue you love is almost completely grey. “Yes.” He sounds confused, too. 

“What does it mean?” Your afterglow can’t overshadow your curiosity. “If you don’t tell me, this isn’t happening again.” You try to make it obvious you aren’t serious with your playful tone. Especially not after those orgasms.

“Look at you, little and feisty, blackmailing me.” He chuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips. “I told you what a good girl you are. I didn’t realize I spoke in Russian.”

You laugh a little. “Say it again.” You give him the cutest look. “Please?”

“Ty moya khoroshaya devochka.” He repeats softly. You’re my good girl.

You don’t even realize how content you look as you keep smiling.

“Now, I can get used to that.”

“Say my name again, please.”

You love the neediness in his voice. “James?” You tilt your head a little. “Or would you prefer Bucky?”

“Fuck, it doesn’t matter.” His thumb is suddenly on your lips. “I can get used to that, too.”

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron

(Prologue and Chapter 1)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

⯎series masterlist⯎

Prologue

Before gold, before grams, before the gun, there was you. Back when there weren’t crosses to steal, lines to snort, cops to run from, there was you. Long summer nights on the Druthers, your mom blowing up your phone ‘cause you missed curfew again. Skipping class and riding to the beach on the back of his bike. All the way back to grade school, playing tag and pretending you were pirates. Then middle school, that kiss under the lifeguard tower, a first for both of you. In high school, the night you got back from the “character-building summer camp” you had been shipped off to and you shared your other first. When you were first together, it didn’t even hurt, but just felt like fucking finally. 

He remembers it all, taking all of his strength to keep it stuffed under the surface. The coke, the violence, the drama he creates in his wake cover you up nicely, until those nights when he’s dead asleep and there you are again, leaving. When he wakes, it all comes back to him. How he sat on the curb and watched you go, bloody and hurt from the night that was your final straw. How he showed up on your doorstep the next day, like he was five-years-old again asking if you could come outside and play. How your mother told him you were gone and wouldn’t tell him where you went.

“Honey,” she said with something like pity in her voice, “Promise me, you’ll let her go, let her be happy.”

A promise he kept, until the day you rolled back into town with no warning. Your timing could not have been worse. After the summer from hell, the summer that made him a killer, he finally felt like he was in control. It wasn’t until he saw you, the only person in the world that ever really knew him, that he realized he had no idea who he was. 

Chapter One

You clutched your phone tight, reading and rereading the message. One you used to get nearly every night but hadn’t seen in two long years.

party at cameron’s tonite !!

It was a group text, sent by the girl from your high school you bumped into in the grocery store earlier that day. You had been back on the island for all of an hour before inevitably seeing someone you knew. You tried to duck quickly into the cereal aisle, but she caught your eye before you could disappear, an action you were infamous for.

“Omg, we need to hang out soon!” She had said, before handing you her phone to put your new number in.

You smiled your fakest smile and said, “it’s a must!” You didn’t think either of you really meant it, but apparently she had.

There were eleven or twelve other numbers in the group text, none you had saved, but you assumed they were likely other people from your high school. She probably just added anyone in her contacts she could think of, not even stopping to realize she was inviting the Kook prince’s former princess to his party. Your relationship had been the stuff of legend on this island. Everyone had an opinion, you were practically a celebrity couple, and it was the biggest news on the island for months when you left, suddenly disappearing overnight. Some real shit must’ve gone down around here since then to make it such old news that this girl didn’t even think about it when adding you to this text.

Your heart pounding in your ears, you couldn’t believe it when you felt yourself typing out i’ll be there :) 

You wore your hair down, the way you always used to have it in high school. After you left, you had cut it short, wanting to shed away as much of your old life as you could, but in the last few months you’d started to let it grow back. Now it flowed down to the middle of your back, tickling the skin of your shoulders where the thin spaghetti straps of the little dress you had on left them exposed. You let the front pieces fall around your face, a sort of curtain to keep an extra layer between you and the other partygoers.

You could not believe you were here. For real this time, not in a dream as you had been every night for two years, but really here. 

As you walked down the gravel path, it all came rushing back. The smell of Rose’s garden, the distant sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, the low thud of the music echoing through the crisp evening air. How many times have you walked down this path? How many nights had you spent here, your senses filled with the glory of Tannyhill, the glory of him? And yet now it felt so heavy, the sights, sounds, smells of it all were nearly choking you. Tears welled in your eyes, but something kept your feet walking towards those grand front doors, towards him.

Four years earlier…

The glass panes of the front door are slightly blurred, only revealing the soft lighting of the grand entryway on the other side. You had crossed this threshold at least a thousand times in the ten years since your family moved to this island. Knocking felt strange, you felt so small standing here in the porch light, surrounded by moths and the thick coastal August air. An envelope, wrinkled from being opened and rifled through so many times, was clutched between your clammy hands.

A figure you couldn’t quite make out approached the door, and your heart pounded in your ears as you hoped desperately it would be him who opened the door. But it wasn’t.

“Oh, hey - I- hi, Mr. Cameron,” you stammered, ever intimidated by the island’s most powerful man.

“Y/N,” Ward nodded cordially. “It’s after 10pm.”

You smiled weakly, if you felt small before, you feel positively infantile now.

“I was just hoping I could see Rafe for like, just a second,” you pleaded, putting on your sweetest smile.

“He’s studying,” Ward said. “You can come back tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Before you could protest, the door was closed and the blurred figure retreated into the house.

Never one to give up, you stuffed the letter into the back pocket of your jeans, and stepped back from the porch, sizing up the massive house to see which rooms still had lights on. You knew the blueprint of this place by heart, checking off each family member mentally as you scanned their window for signs of life. Wheezie’s room? Dark. Sarah’s room? Dark. Rose and Ward’s room? Still lit. This would have to be a stealth mission. 

You snuck around the side of the house and looked up at the last window on your list. To your excitement, the room was still lit. You saw a long shadow pass by the curtains, and you actually jumped a little from the thrill. After spending the longest summer of your life apart from the one person you wanted to spend it with, he was actually right there, just two stories off the ground.

You traveled 800 miles today, what was a few more feet? Blocking out the better judgment ringing in the back of your mind, you picked up a few pebbles from the rocky path that leads to the backyard, and started climbing the big tree that grew right up past Rafe’s balcony. How you were gonna get from the tree to the balcony? That was five-minutes-from-now-you’s problem. You chuckled to yourself as your body naturally found each branch and knot on the tree. You used to have competitions when you were kids to see who could climb this tree the fastest, and you beat Rafe everytime. You remembered the shocked look on his face the first time he saw you scurry up the tree, you were hoping for a similar level of approving surprise once you got where you were going.

Once you reached the branch directly across from Rafe’s balcony, you pulled one of the pebbles from your pocket and chucked it at his window as hard as you could. 

“Shit,” you whisper-yelled as the throw fell short and the pebble dropped, loudly knocking into the first floor window below. You couldn’t afford another noise-causing miss, so you recalculated the throw and bit your lip as you lobbed the next pebble hard. It smacked into Rafe’s window with a loud TINK and you smiled in satisfaction. You waited a moment, then two, and still nothing. The shadowy figure did not return to the curtain. You only had one pebble left, and you had never been good at climbing back down this tree. Remembering the time you fell out of it onto the waiting Rafe below, and you both ended up needing stitches, your stomach twisted in fear. You took in a deep breath and held it, letting the last pebble fly. Another sharp TINK, and a moment of baited breath later, the tall shadow finally returned to the window.

Rafe opened the curtains harshly and you immediately broke into a wild smile. He looked so cute in his fitted gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, his normally gelled back her falling in messy pieces around his face. You held back a giggle, delighted by the completely confused look on his face as he searched out the window for the cause of the sound. He lifted the window open and examined the two pebbles that had fallen on the windowsill. 

You took the opportunity to whisper a loud “psssst.” His face shot up in surprise and his eyes finally found you in the tree, just a few feet off of the balcony. Where you expected to see surprised delight on his face, you instead caught something cold and irritated.

“Y/N,” he whisper-called to you. “What are you doing?”

“I just got back, I wanted to see you!” You called to him, hoping his apparent anger was just in response to his own shock.

“I’m busy.” Rafe went to close the window and you felt your moment of opportunity slip away.

“Wait!” you stopped him. “Please don’t make me climb down. We both know it won’t end well.” You smiled a sweetly shy smile you hoped would melt his icy demeanor a bit.  

He sighed and looked at you annoyed for a moment before climbing out the window, his height requiring him to duck low in order to make it through. He had grown even taller over the summer, he must have hit 6 foot by now, maybe more. Your stomach flipped as you watched his athletic frame emerge from his bedroom, now able to see how defined his arms looked in the moonlight. You’d always thought he was a cute boy, but the way he looked right now lit a fire in your belly. Then you realized what it was - while you were gone, the cute boy-next-door had become a man.

“Just reach over,” he directed you.

“I don’t think I can without falling,” you explained. “I think I’m gonna have to jump.”

“Are you stupid?” He scoffed humorlessly.

Your heart sank, the boy you left behind three months ago never would have called you stupid.

“It’ll be fine, you just have to catch me,” you explained.

He rolled his eyes and opened his arms, reaching them over the bannister of the balcony, “fine.”

The brief moment of joy you got from his submission faded fast as you made the mistake of looking down at the gap between the tree and the balcony.

“Actually…” you said, bravery fading.

“What, are you scared?” Rafe taunted.

“No!” you insisted. You smiled at him, suddenly feeling like the two of you were ten again and he was daring you to jump off the trampoline into the pool in your backyard.

Now or never. With a deep breath and a sharp yelp, you threw yourself out of the tree and towards his waiting arms on the balcony. As promised, he caught you, and pulled you quickly over the bannister. His arms wrapped around your waist, yours around his shoulders, he held you there just a few inches off the ground.

You flattened your hands against the taut muscles of his shoulders, delighting in the strong warmth of them. But before you could fully revel in the feeling of being in his arms, he released his grip on your waist and you dropped the final few inches to the ground. Rafe quickly stepped back, breaking the lock your arms had around his neck. Despite the southern summer heat, the air between you suddenly felt ice cold.

“Rafe,” you whispered, stepping towards him, but he only pulled further away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without even looking at you.

Rafe started back towards his window, and something gave you the feeling he was not going to invite you to follow him through it.

“I need to talk to you,” you started to explain.

Rafe whipped around to face you, the way he towered over you at his new height sending goosebumps down your spine.

“Why don’t you go talk to your new boyfriend instead?” He snapped.

You were so stunned that you let out a little laugh, which only made his furrowed brow scrunch even more in anger.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“I saw the pictures your camp was posting on their website all summer. I saw you wrapped around that douchebag.”

It took a moment of confused silence for you to realize what he was talking about, when it finally dawned on you, you laughed again. He turned from you and started heading towards the window again, but you caught his arm, your hand not able to fit even halfway around it.

“No, Rafe,” you explained, “That was just Andy, one of the other campers. We were doing a trust fall exercise. He dropped me like two seconds after that!”

Despite himself, Rafe turned to look at you, eyes examining you nervously. 

“Are you ok?” He asked in a small voice, wishing desperately that he didn’t care.

You smiled softly, there he was - your boy. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him, showing him the small scar on your wrist. “Just a little scrape.”

A moment passed, he avoided your eyes but allowed you to step closer, your hand sliding down his arm and slipping into his, his fingers reluctantly intertwining with yours. You knew exactly what words he was struggling to find, but decided to let him get there on his own.

Finally, “Why didn’t you answer my letters?”

Your other hand reached into your back pocket and pulled out the envelope you had tucked away. You held it out to him wordlessly. He took the letter and held it to the light coming from his room, examining it with a confused look. The envelope was addressed to him at Tannyhill, from you at camp. When he finally noticed the “return to sender” label, it all clicked.

“They kept getting returned to me, I don’t know why,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I asked to use my phone to let you know but they wouldn’t let me. I almost just snuck out of camp and came home so I could explain it to you.”

“Your mom would’ve been so mad,” he said, finally, finally smiling at you.

“Then she would’ve just taken away my phone and we’d be back where we started,” You said. “There’s like twenty more letters like that. I don’t know why they never made it to you, it’s like someone was sabotaging me.”

Rafe seemed satisfied with your explanation and the remaining bit of anger on his face melted away completely. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and suddenly threw his arms around you, lifting you in the air as you yelped in surprise, giggling as he started planting sloppy kisses all over your face and neck.

“Shhh, baby, my parents will hear you,” he whispered. “They’ve got me locked in my tower because I failed my last quiz in this fucking summer school pre-calc class.”

“Rafe!” you said in mock-scandal. “Naughty language!”

“Oh, baby, I can say way naughtier things than that,” he growled in your ear, your cheeks now burning from real-scandal.

“C’mon,” he said, setting you down and grabbing your hand, to lead you to his still-open window. 

He placed his large hand on the small of your back as he helped you through the window, climbing in after you and closing it slowly so as to not make a sound.

You and Rafe had done some more-than-kissing things before, but that was the night you gave yourselves to each other completely. He held you after, softly kissing the scar on your arm from when Andy had dropped you.

“Never gonna let that Andy asshole touch you again,” he said between kisses. “He can find his own girl, you’re mine.”

You giggled and he looked up at you in confusion.

“Rafe,” you were laughing hard now. “Andy’s gay.”

He broke into a bashful grin, a quick blush of embarrassment swept across his cheeks before he grew serious again and started kissing up your arm.

“I don’t care,” he said. “They should all know - all the Andys and Jakes and Chads and whoeverthefucks,” his kisses had reached your neck, “no guy is ever gonna get to touch you like me.” He pulled back and looked into your eyes with a sincerity that squeezed your heart. “Gonna love you forever. Gonna marry you, make you a mom. Never gonna spend three months, or even three fucking days away from you again. That what you want?”

“Yes,” you breathed, meaning it with your whole being.

“Good.”

Now…

The memories flooded your brain as you opened the door and stepped into the home you used to think would be yours someday. The party was swelling, the vibe feeling so familiar and so uncomfortable at the same time.

You made your way straight to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink. Every step you took sent a memory flashing through your thoughts like a shock to your brain. You passed the living room and saw movie-nights-turned-make-out-sessions on the couch, playing mario kart with Sarah and Wheezie while Rafe laughed at your hyper-competitiveness, prom pictures in front of the fireplace. You passed the dining room and saw the first family dinner you were invited to, how you made Ward laugh with a story about fishing your own dad used to tell, how Rafe squeezed your thigh under the table in pride. You entered the kitchen and saw the time you and Rafe set off the smoke alarm trying to make pancakes, the time he lifted you onto the counter and went down on you when his family was out of town. And then, standing by the keg, you saw the girl who invited you, clearly plastered already.

“Omg!” She yelled when she saw you.

Everyone else in the large kitchen turned and looked at you. It felt dramatic, but you could swear the whole room fell silent when they saw you, a comical record scratch playing in your head.

The girl who invited you ran over to you, beer sloshing over the side of her solo cup and onto her shirt. 

“I can not believe you came,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I completely forgot when I invited you, about, you know, you and-”

“Can I get one of those?” you cut her off quickly, gesturing towards her drink.

Before she could answer, a loud crash came from outside the kitchen’s open french doors. The heads that had all been watching you suddenly snapped toward the sound towards the crowded back yard. When the loud bellow of a man’s voice rang out, the people in the kitchen all ran towards the unfolding scene. You pushed through the crowd and out the doors, drawn inexplicably to the voice. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realized why - it was Rafe.

There in the backyard, packed with drunk people and lit by string lights, Rafe stood with his fist clenched in the collar of some guy’s white button up, forcefully pulling the scared looking dude toward him while he yelled.

“I said none of that fucking cheap shit,” Rafe yelled at the guy you now realized was a cater-waiter. 

“I’m sorry sir, I-” Rafe threw the man down and he fell back in the dirt.

“This isn’t some ghetto block party out in The Cut,” Rafe yelled. “Do you know who’s fucking house you’re at right now?”

The crowd around you watched, most smiling in support of the man they looked at like he was a rockstar. You cringed at the looks of admiration in their eyes and took Rafe in with your own.

He looked different, harder. His floppy blond locks had been shaved off, and he had traded old t-shirts and jeans for slacks and a polo. He was as tall and built as you remembered, but instead of it being endearing, it was just scary as he looked down at the poor server like he was gonna kill him.

Then he spat on him. He actually spat on another human being. It disgusted you in more ways than one, and you felt your heart breaking in your chest as you realized you had no idea who this man was. The boy who held you on that night four years ago and promised to be yours forever clearly didn’t live here anymore. You turned quickly and pushed back through the crowd, unable to watch another second of this sickening display of toxic masculinity.

Rafe glared down at the pogue-scum in the dirt below him, an eerily familiar feeling washed over him as something moved quickly in the corner of his eye. He turned at just the right moment to see a whip of long hair disappear through the crowd.  But it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly be. Surely, it was not you.

(chapter 2)

a/n: Hiiii this is the first fic I've posted in about 10 years!! Hope you enjoyed, forgive me if I'm rusty! More chapters to come :)

[misctf]

Reversal Agents II: Going Back

Hey! I felt like making a sequel to the The Reversal Agents. Similar concept, similar characters, but instead with an inanimate tf focus. Hope you enjoy and please dm with any story requests!

“Wh-where am I?”

It was so bright. He could make out blurry shadows- people shuffling around him. He could hear voices.

“He’s awake!”

“Sir, can you tell us your name?”

It was all so much. The hard floor on his back. The blinding lights shining in his face. He moved his arm and looked at his hand. His hand? He stared at it, slowly moving his fingers. It felt foreign to him. The sensation was strange and unfamiliar, so he lowered his arm and continued to look around.

“Sir, can you tell us your name?” The voice was more forceful now.

“Tim Hoffer.” He whispered. It was hard to talk. His mouth was dry, “Where... where...” It was getting hard to talk again. And he couldn’t feel his fingers.

“His form isn’t stable!” Someone shouted.

“Stabilizers! Stat!”

Tim could feel someone press something onto his chest and he felt dizzy. The world around him spun and he fell unconscious. From the viewing room, Detective Hart and Detective Philips watched the scene unfold. Hart frowned and turned to the senior detective.

“Stabilizers?” He asked, “Why...”

“Some transformations linger.” Philips interjected, “Especially these inanimate ones for whatever reason. We often use these to prevent reversions.” They watched Tim closely, “Usually the stabilizers come off sooner rather than later. We just follow-up with them closely.”

“Poor kid.” Hart commented.

Philips chuckled, “Could you imagine? Six months as a pair of underwear?”

“Show some sympathy. It’s not funny.” Hart replied, earning him a curious look from his superior.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Philips replied. He took a deep breath, “Come on, we’ll let the professionals handle this. I want to go home and that paperwork won’t finish itself.”

_____________________

It still felt strange. The warmth of his own skin. Moving his arms and legs. Talking. He shuddered. The memories were still somewhat hazy. There was a baseball game. Against their university’s main rival. Big game, huge crowd. His girlfriend cheering him on. He stepped up to bat. Hit the game winning homerun. It was incredible- the memory caused him to smile. But afterwards, it got hazy. He stayed behind to talk to coach- everyone else left. After their talk, he started heading back to his dorm to meet his girlfriend. There was a huge party planned. But he was jumped by Tyler, the rival team’s catcher. He pulled out what looked like a gun... and then...

“Tim?”  

Tim looked away from the window and in the direction of Detective Hart. He sighed. It had been a few weeks since his reversal. And the Department of Affairs Related to Transformation set up several follow-up sessions for him to talk things through. Hart, for his part, enjoyed this part of the job. He could do more to help the victims of forced transformations.

“Sorry, just a bit distracted.” Tim replied.

Hart raised an eyebrow, “I know it’s been a tough few weeks. Getting back into your normal routine...”

“It’s not just that.” He sighed, “I... Sometimes...” He looked away, “It’s nothing.”

Hart looked at him quizzically. But Tim maintained his poker face. How could he tell Hart that he sometimes missed his time as a pair of underwear? Yeah, it was terrifying at first. He hated it. He hated how his face was pressed against his tormentor’s cock. How his body was stretched across his massive muscular ass. The protein farts, the sweat, the days his captor jerked off into him. But as he lost track of the days, it became easier to accept that he was just underwear. No worries, no thoughts, just unwashed and used.

“It’s okay.” Hart replied, “We’ll continue to work through this. And remember, if you ever need me, you can call.”

_____________________

If there was anything Tim continued to enjoy, it was going to the gym. And with college starting again soon and the baseball season, he wanted to stay in shape. Today was leg day and he was trying his best to focus on his squats. As he looked up after finishing a set though, he couldn’t help but stare at the man bench pressing in the corner. Or more specifically, the bulge in his tight gym shorts. The man was around his age and built. His shirt drenched in sweat. When he saw Tim looking at him, he flashed him a smile. Tim blushed and went back to his squats.

‘God damn it.’ He thought, ‘Why does this keep happening?’

Following his transformation, it seemed that he developed a sexual preference for men. A week after his transformation was reversed, he attempted to reconnect with his girlfriend. But when their date night got to the bedroom, it was less than enjoyable for both of them. He couldn’t get hard. Despite years of being together and never having an issue, he just couldn’t. They broke up soon after. But maybe it was a one off thing. He desperately watched the porn vids that always worked for him, and similarly had no such luck. But when he thought about men... particularly, their muscular thighs and their sweaty cocks, he had no issue getting off. Tim jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“I’ll be in the last shower stall.” The man said.

Tim nodded and watched as the hunk walked towards the locker room. He felt his heart pound in his chest. It had been so long since he did anything with anyone. And he resisted his urge to actually do anything with a guy. But... it had been so long. Tim entered the locker room and did just what the guy had told him too. He stripped down to nothing and entered the shower stall, finding the other man there, naked.

“I saw you checking me out.” The guy said with a grin.

But Tim didn’t really hear anything. He was focused more on the man’s erect cock. Tim was soon on his knees, his hands feeling the man’s thighs and ass. All the while, the man was rubbing his cock against Tim’s face.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” The man said, “Come on, you fucking slut.”

A part of Tim felt horrified. He felt dirty and wrong. A few months ago, he would’ve never done something like this. Never. But as he licked along the man’s shaft, tasting the glistening sweat, he shuddered with pleasure. It was so familiar, so right. He slowly swallowed the man’s cock, wrapping his arms around the man’s muscular ass. This felt right. This was right. He bobbed up and down on the man’s cock, causing him to moan. Yeah, just an object. Just to be used. He felt the man’s cock start to throb and he knew what was coming. And as the man came down his throat, Tim was filled with pleasure- it was so familiar. It reminded him of all the days his captor would cum on his fabric face. But that feeling soon dissipated and the weight of what he just did hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Fuck...” The man sighed, “You wanna exchange...”

But Tim had fled. He quickly got back into his clothes and headed towards the locker room exit. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes- this wasn’t right, this was wrong. He wasn’t...

“Tim?” Tim’s eyes widened when he heard a familiar voice. Detective Hart was looking at him, dressed in nothing but a pair of tight underwear, “Hey, are you...?”

But again, Tim didn’t really hear anything he was saying. Instead, he was focused on the bulge in Hart’s underwear. He knew Hart was on the younger side, maybe a few years out of college, but he never saw him nearly naked. His muscles were lean. His ass firm. His underwear... Tim felt jealous of it... And he felt a strange affection for the detective.

“Tim?”

“I-I’ll see you later!” Tim said, fleeing from the locker room.

_____________________

Tim was lying in his bed, his hand wrapped around his cock. Ever since returning from the gym, he couldn’t get the image of Hart out of his head. But even more, he couldn’t help but feel jealous of the underwear tightly wrapped around his cock. Tim cursed and ran a hand through his hair. Why did it have to be like this? Why did he miss being used underwear? He moaned when he thought about the first night Tyler jerked off into him. Tyler had pawed at his cock through Tim’s fabric face. At first he hated it, but night after night, multiple times per day, he anticipated it. Felt excited. It was his purpose.

“Fucking hell.” He whispered. He stared at the stabilizer on his chest and sighed, “No.” He whispered. He grabbed his phone and called Detective Hart. He needed to talk with him, “Hey, can I come talk to you? I know it’s real late, but I really need to... Yes... thank you so much, I’ll be right over.”

When Tim arrived at Hart’s apartment, he was sweating and his heart was pounding. Hart greeted him and the two men were sitting on the sectional in the living room. Hart was looking at him, worry in his eyes.

“So you wanted to talk?” Hart asked.

“I... I’m having a hard time.” Tim whispered, “I sometimes miss it. I miss being underwear.” Tim felt a weight leave him as he admitted his truth, “Ever since the transformation reversed, I just...”

“This isn’t uncommon.” Hart replied, “And I want you to know its normal.” He reassured, “I’ve been learning a lot about inanimate transformations, especially cases similar to yours. It usually takes a bit, but things will start to normalize more as time goes on.”

Tim nodded, feeling comforted by Hart’s words, “I... that does make me feel better.” He whispered. He sighed, “I need to splash some water on my face.”

Tim stared at himself in the bathroom mirror and took a deep breath. Maybe... maybe everything would be okay. He just needed to stay strong. He could go back to his life... maybe rekindle with his girlfriend. Life would be okay.

But then he saw it. Thrown and discarded in the corner of the bathroom was a pair of Hart’s underwear. Tim felt his heart pounding as he bent over and picked it up. The smell was intoxicating. Sweaty, manly musk filled his nostrils. The fabric in his hand was so soft. He shuddered and looked at himself in the mirror. There he was. Tim Hoffer. College baseball jock. Business Administration major. Good grades, attractive, smart. There he was- ravenously rubbing his face in another man’s underwear. He frowned as he removed his shirt and stared at the stabilizer on his chest. And without another thought, he pulled it off.

_____________________

“Hey Tim, are you okay?” Hart knocked on the bathroom door. It had been a little bit of time, and he grew concerned. He looked at his phone and sighed. He quickly messaged the guy he was planning to hook-up with that he needed to cancel, “Tim, can I...”

But the door opened and Tim was standing there, completely undressed. Hart’s eyes widened at the sight and he quickly took a step back. And that’s when he noticed it. There was no stabilizer on his chest.

“Tim...?”

He hadn’t expected Tim to close the distance between them so fast. Nor did he expect the passionate kiss that followed. Hart broke away and looked at Tim, who smiled at him. His hand was resting against Hart’s slowly growing erection.

“Tim, you... I...”

Tim smiled and again kissed Hart passionately. And this time, the detective reciprocated. The two continued to make-out passionately, with Hart leading him back to the bedroom. Tim’s eyes were wild as he stripped away Hart’s clothes, revealing the toned muscle he had seen earlier. His tongue quickly roamed along the detective’s abs and he shuddered at the sound of Hart’s moans. And when Tim finally made his way down to Hart’s stiff cock, he licked along the length of the shaft, savoring every moment. He looked up at Hart, who’s eyes were shut tight from the pleasure, his mouth open in a silent moan. Tim sighed. He didn’t have much time left. He could feel it in his body. And so, he quickly took the length of Hart’s cock into his eager mouth.

‘Here it goes...’ He thought, a sense of relief filling him.

And just like that first night, he could feel it. He felt his arms move on their own, wrapping around the back of Hart’s waist. And when his hands came together, they began to fuse. At the same time, he could feel his pecs and abs start to vanish, the air in his lungs being forced out as his body flattened. But all the while, he kept Hart’s cock in his mouth, doing his best to provide pleasure even as his body changed. He grunted as his legs fused together and lose their features. His skin was taking on a white hue. And slowly, his body started to shrink. As it did, he felt what had been his abdomen and legs curve upwards along Hart’s taint and fuse with his clasped hands.

‘I feel... it feels...’ Tim’s mind was filling with pleasure. With anticipation. He could feel Hart’s firm ass fill the tight fabric of his new body, ‘Just underwear... underwear...’

And slowly, he felt his face start to flatten out against the detective’s throbbing cock. His handsome features vanishing and shifting into white fabric. And a few moments later, Hart was alone in the room. His throbbing erection tenting in his new underwear. And the horny detective couldn’t help but wrap his hand around his throbbing member- pressing Tim’s face firmly against his cock. And after a few strokes, he came, filling his new underwear with his seed.

_____________________

When Detective Hart woke up the next morning, he yawned and rubbed his cock through his underwear. But the events of the previous night quickly returned to him. He looked down at his cum stained underwear- Tim- and felt his heart pounding. How could he do this? He was supposed to reverse transformations, not engage in them. He quickly threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. It was the weekend, so the office shouldn’t be too busy. He could reverse this again. It would be okay. He ran to the office, working up a musky sweat that seeped into Tim’s new form. He tried to ignore how good the soft fabric of Tim’s new body felt against his semi-hard member.

“Come on... come on...” He whispered as he entered his office. He was desperately looking for the key to the reversal chamber.

“Oh Detective Hart, you look a little stressed today.” Hart looked up to see Detective Philips standing at the door to his office, “Tough night?” He gave the detective a knowing look.

“Look, something happened and...”

Philips smiled, “Don’t worry, I won’t say a thing.” He walked over to Hart, “Inanimate transformations... difficult to come back from.” He chuckled, “Sometimes, it awakens their true purpose. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“What are you saying?”

“You wouldn’t be a reversal agent if you didn’t, well...�� He smirked and rubbed his growing bulge, “It’s hard to come by good quality underwear. We’ll leave it at that.”

Hart watched as Philips left his office, the smirk never leaving his face. The younger detective sighed and stared at the key to the reversal chamber in his hand. And with another sigh, he put it away.

[mintmatcha]

so part of the reason he doesn't remember her is because it was such a shitty time at home and he was shutting down he's not just a fuckboy he's a TRAUMATISED fuckboy

If you were smart, you would have cleaned the place of every trace of you, but instead, you're forced to watch him pad through your belongings. Sero, the Sero, dreamboat Sero, is walking his fingers across the shelves in your living room, inspecting the rowing of manga. Sometimes, he hums, like he recognizes something. Other times, he stops on the figurines and pretends to shake their tiny hands in a horribly charming manner.

There's been boys in your apartment before. Well, a boy.

This is different. Sero is different.

He keeps looking back at you with these eyes, these damn eyes that you just can't resist, gently lidded with a smile that feels like it's just for you-

Liking him is stupid. You know that. Boys like him date pretty girls, thin girls, normal girls, better girls-

You adjust your clothes, pulling at the hem until you hear a definite pop. It's the exact outfit you saw on a pretty girl on tiktok, bought with three weeks of allowance, but it feel wrong and cheap against your skin. Wool over a wolf's body, poorly trying to disguise you as something you aren't.

Sero is effortlessly cool. His clothes are loose in they way that still makes him look lean and put together and purposely mismatched. Even his socks are different colors, one white, one black-

"You have a fun place, Cram School." Sero gives you a big smile. He calls you affectionately, since he claims to miss you when you're there. "You really like magical girls, don't you?"

You fiddle with the hem of your shirt more, tugging at the loose threads.

"...Yeah."

He waits a bit to see if you've got more to say, then turns back to your things. He's always attentive with you, even when Kirishima's other friends aren't.

"You totally wanted to be a hero as a kid, didn't you?" His teasing is light and your chest feels the same. "Like this guy?"

Technically, the figure he picks up isn't a hero, but you don't point that out. His warmth is melting you and you swear every atom in your body is slowly buzzing faster and faster.

"No, my quirk isn't good. I could never be a hero. I just..." You trip over your words because you know it's pathetic to admit. You adjust your glasses as you speak, sliding them up and down nervously. "They're sweet, and, and friendly. D-don't you ever wish you could transform into someone else for a little bit?"

There's another pause and you're forced to look directly at him. Your glasses slide down on their own.

"That was so cringe," you whisper.

His shrugs with one shoulder, scuffing his socks against the carpet. "Yeah. I do. Sometimes."

Sero sniffs, then hooks a thumb towards the television. "Do you wanna watch one?"

"A-a show?" you scoff at yourself. "You don't have to do that."

"You're so mean to yourself, Cram School. " Sero laughs. "I want to."

-

He asks questions the first episode. Good ones too. He posts to a character and whispers that it must be your favorite, since he saw the posters of her. Heat from his breath tickles your neck and that helium feeling in your chest just gets tighter.

The third episode, he slings and arm around your shoulders. You had been frozen tall, knees together with hands tucked into your lap, but then he drew you in, right into his collarbone. His elbows are sharp, but you don't mind. Not at all.

You debate touching him back, but your hands stay locked on the hem of your shirt.

When the credits roll, he turns to look at you, face so close to the side of yours that you can feel his nose bump against the wire frame of your glasses.

"Hey."

He whispers it as his hand finds your thigh.

"I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

He waits a minute, held by your indecisiveness. His skin is acne bitten under his bangs, the pad of fat under his eyes puffs when he smiles.

This isn't a cruel joke, is it? Or some dream you'll wake up from? This is real, painfully real, something that no one can take away from you-

"Okay?"

No one will ever believe that you have a boy in your apartment, one that wants to kiss you despite the glasses and everything else undesirable about you.

Sero whispers you name. Not Cram School, but your name.

You gather up the willpower to squeak out an: "Okay."

And then he does. Lips are dryer than you thought they'd be, but the gentle pull of skin against skin enough to steal your breath away. His own breath quivers with a sigh; he must be able to tell it's your first time, because he goes purposefully slow, moving his mouth slightly more and more open until you match his movements.

When his tongue slips into your mouth, it tastes like the peach tea he's left on your countertops.

For once, you don't want to be anyone else.

[thiefcatmoth]

pac: what could you try in the occult arts?

general reading. pick a pile, listening to your intuition. if nothing resonates, leave this pac behind.

pile 1

how about trying to make dreamcatchers for your loved ones? or wind chimes? these instruments are relatively simple, but when made with good intentions, with magical power embedded, they bring many positive changes to the lives of those to whom they are given, from clearing thoughts to changing the atmosphere in the room. you have the power to bring these changes to others, and the process of creating these amulets will help you better reveal your creative abilities and gain generosity of energy.

pile 2

i suspect you've never tried this, but you could try smoke or steam divination. this is a rare form of divination, similar to water or mirror divination - you look at the figures the smoke shows you, and they tell you a story about the past, present and future. try lighting your favorite candle and blowing it out, watching the smoke sway, prepare the smudging ritual and look into the clouds. or even add your favorite essential oil to hot water and watch the rising steam speak to you. just remember to protect your respiratory system and your eyes, be careful.

pile 3

manifestation. moreover, you can turn not only to well known written forms, but also try vocal manifestation. first, listen to your voice, to every word you say, and try to endow them not only with meaning, but also with power. each of your words is important and weighty, remember this, and be confident in yourself and your desires. if you do not like the sound of your speaking voice, try using other sounds or also singing. the human voice is very transformative, and this will give you many opportunities to embody your will in sound.

pile 4

try working with the moon and making moon water. the moon helps to develop intuition, look deep into yourself and explore what can never be described in words. and moon water can help you on the path to knowing others and yourself. for many, moon water is a tool for clearing the mind and energy - and you can try using it by adding it to your bath to charge yourself with the energy of the moon, revealing your potential more fully.

pile 5

have you ever tried to create talismans? these are small special objects that can look completely different. they often help to overcome adversity, they protect, provide support. talismans are created with pure intentions and are given to those for whom they are intended - these are deeply individual objects that you yourself cover with the necessary symbols, use the necessary materials and choose the colors and textures.

pile 6

try cleansing rituals with earth or salt. you may have tried this before, but there is always a new twist on old. you can write down everything you want to get rid of and bury this text at a crossroads. you can create a witch's bottle for cleansing, using salt, stones and even bones that suit your intentions. and if you don't have access to such objects but want to cleanse your own body, soul and mind, get out into nature, touch the Earth with your hands and ask it to ease your burdens.

thanks for the reading!

dividers by @strangergraphics-archive, all images are not mine

[dorabellingham]

Boyfriend material

headcanon

characters: jobe x fem!reader

request: yes!

may contain spelling and translation errors

1. King of well-planned surprises

Jobe loves to surprise you, but he doesn't do it in an obvious or cliché way. Instead of flowers at the door of the house, he books a private cooking class because he knows you casually commented on learning how to make typical food from somewhere. He listens to the small details and transforms them into big gestures. And the best? He gets a shy smile, a little embarrassed, waiting for your reaction, as if he didn't know he got it right.

2. He memorises your favourite playlist

Jobe knows all the songs you love. He has a playlist on Spotify called "For Y/n" and whenever he hears a song that reminds you, he adds it. The cutest thing is that sometimes he plays when you're in the car, just to see you sing. And of course, when they are separated, he sends a song from the list with a "I remembered you."

3. He's a great cook (but only for you)

Despite being a disaster in the kitchen when he's alone, Jobe makes a real effort when it's for you. He learns basic recipes and ventures with more elaborate dishes just because he knows you like them. It's always an event: he puts on music, tries to follow recipes on YouTube, and in the end, the kitchen is a mess. But he compensates by putting the food on the table with a proud smile, waiting for your compliment.

4. He is the best listener in the world

Jobe has a special talent for hearing you talk about absolutely anything. If you're talking about a book, about the new series you watched, or even about something you read in an academic article, he pays attention with genuine interest. He asks questions, gives opinions, and you feel like the most important person in the world.

5. He's absurdly affectionate in public

He's not afraid to show how much he loves you in public. Whenever you are walking together, he holds your hand, gives quick kisses on tour forehead or wraps you with his big arm when it's cold. He doesn't care if there are paparazzi around or if someone is watching - he just wants you to know that he is there, on your side, always.

6. He's the type who solves fights calmly (and hugs)

Jobe hates fights and discord, especially with you. He is the one who tries to solve everything calmly and by talking. Even when he is angry, he takes a deep breath, tries to listen to his side and speaks carefully. If he feels that the discussion is too heavy, he interrupts and says: "Let's breathe and talk about it later, I don't want to hurt you." And, of course, he never lets you sleep upset - he always ends the night with an apology or a tight hug.

7. He is super protective, but not in a possessive way

He is the kind of boyfriend who ensures that you feel safe all the time. It is protective in a subtle way - like being careful when they are in crowded places, holding your hand so they don't get lost, or checking the car before a trip. He is never possessive, but everyone knows that you are the love of his life.

8. He encourages your dreams (and remembers the details)

Jobe not only believes in your dreams, but also makes a point of being the greatest supporter. If you have a new project, he is the first to ask how he can help. He also remembers the smallest details, like when you mentioned that you wanted to go back to practising something, and sent cute messages before the first day saying how proud you were.

9. He is very organised, except when he is in love

Most of the time, Jove is super organised: the closet is tidy, the schedules are in place and he follows an impeccable routine. But when he's with you, it all falls apart. He forgets his socks on the couch because they were watching a movie together or leaves the bed untidy because he preferred to sleep a little more to the solo. He always says that you are the only thing that messes up his life - in a good way.

10. He's unbearably cute when he's jealous

Jobe is mature and confident, but even he can't resist a little jealousy from time to time. If someone flirts with you, he doesn't make a scene, but the closed look and the hand on your waist deliver everything. Then, he jokes: "Just for you to remember, you already have a very good english by your side." And of course, you love to provoke him just to see this reaction - which only makes him even more cute and in love.

[navillee]

can you please write more Zayne sub? :( no one does sub Zayne like you

Because everyday is a good day to talk about sub Zayne. ♪

Cozy Holliday's Zayne. What about it?

Zayne subtle sub behavior pt. VI

I'll repeat again, Zayne is such a home husband, all the poor man can think is heading home to his wife;

Especially in december's Hollidays. When the snow covers Linkon city after a day that didn't seem to past fast enough for Zayne at Akso hospital;

Zayne always arrives at home with a shopping bag. He can't help it but want to see your curious glances at him whenever he step inside with new flavours of cakes, pastries, chocolates and other variety of fresh sweet new recepies out of some cozy bakery that still open the day before his day off;

It's okay for him to wait in line, and to get his pitch black hair white with snow, he's heading home after all, nothing on the way matters;

Zayne stopped to use an umbrella in the trajectory from his car to the house's door. So he always arrives looking like a stray black cat covered with white little snowflakes;

That may be true, he did transform into half of it a couple of years ago, right? Maybe there's still some influence from the kitty card's cats from that cafe still running through his veins, after all, you always brush the thin white coat from his hair, and everytime he melts just as the snow in the front door;

He said he avoids kissing you when arriving because the cold weather outside made his face half freezing. But let's face it, his adorable all wrapped up in his scarf with the tip of his nose and ears red, it's like your little personal snowman, and both of you enjoy a way lot the temperature shock when your mouths collide into a warm welcome kiss. Zayne couldn't ask for more, he's home now, and the affect you have on him start to working just like magic, from the moment he step inside;

Zayne always cooks for you, when he has time. Even if he doesn't, he makes time for it;

He knows he got your attention when he rolls up his sleeves preparing the recepies he knows that are your favorites;

When he chops some vegetables and the sleeve garters of his shirt tighten around his arms and he knows you're devouring him with your eyes. Oh, he loves it;

You know when Zayne is entering that space in his mind, he starts to sigh, suave and longs sighs with time intervals that decrease as he feels more impatient, more hungry. It's not about managing the food, forget about it. He needs your actions, towards him preferably;

That's when you know that the conversation about where's the best spot to watch the new year's fireworks at Linkon new year's festival should take a break for now;

When you now that's time to pour two glasses of a sweet fancy champagne brand and offer to him. Drinking a sip first just to show him it's safe, that he won't get out of control this time, like he always does;

What a lie;

Enticing and dangerous as the alcohol running down his throat;

But never as tempting as you adjusting his garters on his shirt, bringing his memories of you adjusting some look alike leather accessory on his neck, days ago;

Or even you hugging him from his back, kissing his shoulder and praising him for doing such a good job;

He's a so very dedicated husband, but he gets sighing and blushing every time you remember him of that;

He stopped your hands from wondering on his inner thighs, more by the necessity of finishing dinner than by anything else;

He has the need to serve you after all. He can get his reward after he does it, he can always wait, like a proper ideal husband would, right?

But when he places you on his lap at the couch, after you provoked him during the entire Christmas eve dinner barely letting you set an ambience soft piano background playlist, you know he had enough;

You watch him as he puts a small ginger bread between his lips for you to catch. He does that all the time, that's how he loves to share chocolate with you, a sweet kiss after a sugary taste is the best;

When he gets bold like that, he always looks fro your approval, it's a soft, warm and inviting look on his eyes;

When Zayne wants sex, when's he's needy to adore you, his eyes get dark;

It's not a metaphor to say how pent up he is. His pupils literally dilate, consuming the bright greenish tone of his eyes into a yearning and relaxed hungry darkness;

Even the Christmas tree cozy lights can't hide the sincerity his eyes show you;

Neither can't his tongue, thanks to alcohol;

When that happens he's vocal. He's a confessor. All the dirty things he thought during the day, how he can't stop those thoughts and how frustrating they are slip out his mouth as he mumbles;

He wants you to forgive him, or to make him worse even. It doesn't matter. Kiss him, or mark him, loose his belt or pull his tie, make him beg and almost cry, freeze until death or meltdown completely;

As the snow accumulates outside, slowly falling from the dark night sky, it doesn't matter to Zayne. It's Christmas eve and he's back home, again. As he should be.

I appreciate the way you guys enjoy my sub!Zayne writing. This is a way shorter than the other parts, but I needed to talk abou him and Christmas/new year's since "snowman - sia" is playing on my head rent free and it's such a Zayne song.

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (BONUS)

Summary: A peak into the future.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 1,865

Warnings: None. Fun fluff!

A/N: Sorry, y'all. I had some more left in the tank.

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

As a bright sun began to set over the Fayetteville horizon to transform the bright cerulean sky to one glowing with orange and purple hues, 22 young men huddled at the 50-yard line of Francis High School’s freshly lined football field. The wind lightly blew around them for a welcomed cool breeze while they ran through yet another play before their first playoff game of the season. 

“Defense, we in man coverage. Offense, run a Go. We need to tighten up this late-game execution. How you gon’ react under pressure? Show me somethin’ boys!” 

While the head coach rattled off instructions to the team, Terry stood nearby with his arms folded and eyes intently focused on the two wide receivers occupying the field. Cam and CT Wilson were tall and lean twin boys who reminded him of how he looked by senior year except they were sophomores with room to grow. He told them on day one that they were physical specimens with unreal speed and high IQ made for a few semesters at Clemson if they could focus through the head-spinning four years that made up their high school experience. He promised their father that he’d be there to guide them through it all save for a few months during Spring practices.

“Cam, you goin’ inside on this one. You remember the count,” he hollered out from the sideline. 

“Locked in!” 

Terry answered with a thumbs up and adjusted his stance for optimal comfort. The child-sized weight on his shoulders was starting to get heavy but he knew the tongue-lashing that awaited him if he dared to make a false move. 

“He goes too slow. Make him count fast so he won’t drop, Daddy.” 

The small voice from above made him look up for confirmation to find her already looking down at him with a scrunched nose and missing teeth that resembled her mother when she was that age. 

“You sure?” 

“Just watch.” 

Together, they watched the play unfold. Terry counted along in his head to time when the ball should leave the quarterback’s hand in comparison to where Cameron should’ve been on the field. Sure enough, he was a step slow causing the quarterback to throw the ball slightly ahead of him for a bobbled pass. 

“Hm,” he grunted more to himself than anyone else. “I’ll be damned. Aye, Cam, come here for a second!” 

Above him, perched on her throne, Nyla Naomi Richmond rested a smart tablet on her father’s head to watch film from the previous game like she always did. Her mahogany skin was shiny under the bright white LED lights illuminating the field from her mother’s overzealous lotioning before they left home. Per her request, Terry had braided half of her hair back to give way to a collection of moisturized zigzag coils for first-grade picture day. Glasses rested at the tip of her nose with a bright yellow strap to keep them attached to her face. She kept her attention focused on the tablet’s screen, even as Cam jogged toward her and her father on the sideline. 

“Yeah, Coach? I do something wrong.” 

“Too slow,” Nyla answered without looking up. “Speed up. You’re like a turtle out there. We gotta win, man!” 

Terry and Cameron chuckled together as Terry tapped the top of Cam’s helmet. 

“A little quicker on the count, man. If you get there when you’re supposed to, that’s a catch all day. Make ‘em beat you. Don’t beat yourself.” 

“Type shit. I got you, Coach.” 

“Hey! Don’t say bad words.” 

“My fault, Coach Ny. Can I do my pushups later?” 

“Yeah yeah yeah.” 

Cam laughed at her dismissal before accepting a fist bump from Terry and rejoining the field. Terry couldn’t contain his smile as he reached up to tickle his firstborn's sides for that high-pitched giggle he loved so much. 

“Be nice, MiMi. Remember the rule?” He craned his neck to look up at her for the lesson he’d been struggling to get through her head since she began joining practice. 

She sighed dramatically and frowned. “Be hard on the work, not the person. I know, I know.” 

“Be better next time, champ. We’re here to help, not hurt.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Yes sir,” he repeated to mock her childish grumble. “You’re so mean like your mama. Gimme a kiss.” 

Like she always did, Nyla lifted her daddy’s cap to kiss the crown of his head before placing the hat backward atop her own head. 

From the day she first showed herself in a routine sonogram, Terry knew she’d be a firecracker. She refused to show her face to him and Patrice. She carefully concealed her features during an expensive 3D scan and almost hid her gender had they not caught her during an in-utero nap. 

She came into the world kicking and screaming at a long 24 inches and a head clean as a whistle just like her pops. With Patrice, she was the perfect baby. She slept all night, cooed and babbled when spoken to, and grew into a little girl who loved to cuddle into her mommy while they watched Pixar movies on the weekends. With Terry, she was a hell-raiser. Loud and rambunctious with a love for NFL games on Sunday afternoons and playful wrestling on the living room rug. 

Their smart girl had her hand in everything imaginable and, when they’d listen to other parents complain about the difficulty of raising young ones during playdates and birthday parties, they always came away feeling like they’d lucked out with Nyla. 

Across the way, Patrice stepped onto the newly refinished running track with the cheerleading team for warm-ups. Under her school t-shirt, her belly protruded enough to tell anyone looking hard enough that she was expecting. Behind her, she pulled a cooler meant to supply the football team with cold water and snacks for the next day. 

“Mrs. Richmond, you want me to help you? You always be actin’ like you Superwoman or somethin’.” her captain called out from behind her, jogging to catch up with Patrice’s long stride. 

Patrice waved her off. “Nuh-uh. Y’all start stretching. I need to drop this off personally.” 

“Uh-huh. You going to your little boyfriend. Being fast!” 

“I learned from you, Z.” 

“Not you in my business!” 

Patrice’s loud laughter created an echo in the stadium, becoming a bat signal for Terry and Nyla’s attention. 

“Hey, Mommy!” 

Nyla rushed to hop off Terry’s shoulders like he was a jungle gym, unconcerned with any harm she inflicted with her long legs as she shimmied down his body. He winced in pain until she was safely on the ground before lightly trotting behind her to greet his wife. 

Seven years of marriage hadn’t changed much of their love. They’d navigated the growing pains of newlywed life and parenthood to come out stronger on the other side. So much stronger that they’d neglected to follow through on contraceptives to keep their family of three from growing to a family of four. Their parents called a second pregnancy a blessing. And though they mostly felt the same, they also knew that baby number two was the result of too much booze and ignoring the cycle tracker during a kid-free night in Charlotte. 

Patrice braced herself for impact once Nyla got closer and wrapped her body around her legs. 

“Hey, baby,” she greeted, rubbing circles at the center of her back. “You look so pretty. Did you finish your homework?” 

“Mhm! I got 100 on my math test, too!” 

“Alriiight! That’s my smart bestie. Now you gotta pick a place for dinner this weekend.” 

“Can we get piz-”

“A place that is not buffet pizza again. Pick something else.” Terry interjected, making Nyla groan. Dad’s word was final whether she liked it or not. His eyes flickered to Patrice’s still for extra confirmation. Mom’s word was final final. 

She offered a small smile while zhushing the back of Nyla’s hair. “Try something new, Naomi. Maybe chicken tenders this time?” 

Nyla accepted her parents’ redirection with another dramatic sigh that made Terry and Patrice stifle laughter. 

“I know, mama. It’s so hard being six years old. We can write a book about it tonight when we get home so you can help your little sister or brother when they get here.” 

“I hope it’s a girl. Boys are boring.”

Neither of them could muster a response before Nyla abandoned them to supervise the cheerleaders as they started to run through cheers. 

They waited in silence until she was out of earshot to face each other with equally broad smiles. 

Terry spoke up first as he reached down to take the cooler’s handle from Patrice’s hand. 

“Didn’t I tell you from the jump she’d be a second you?” 

“Oh no, she’s a second DeeDee. She might have my mom’s middle name but she is your mama through and through.”

“Touché.” Terry chuckled. That’s why the duo got along so well. They were twin flames in more ways than one. 

A lull in the conversation made Patrice subconsciously bring her hand up to her stomach for a soft rub. Terry looked on with a fond smile, proud of the way her wedding ring reflected the light back into the night sky like a star on the ground. 

He pushed the cooler to the side and grabbed her free hand to pull her into a side hug. He kissed her temple several times over, making Patrice giggle like a schoolgirl at the sensation. 

“We make a cute kid, don’t we?” 

Patrice hummed and closed her eyes for a brief second to feel the full press of his chest on her body and his arms squeezing a little tighter than before. “So cute. She talks too much, but that’s okay.” 

“Wonder where she gets that from?” 

“Her damn daddy.” 

The vibration from Terry’s deep baritone encased in laughter tingled against Patrice’s arm to cover her in warmth from head to toe. A whistle and call of his name from the field snapped both of them from their semi-private moment, making them reluctantly pull away. 

Terry leaned down to kiss the corner of her lips as a parting gift before slyly sneaking the tip of his tongue into her mouth. She playfully pushed him to save them from the embarrassment of taking it too far in public. 

“C’mon, MiMi, we not done yet.” Patrice watched Nylah quickly ditch her squad to meet her daddy’s outstretched arms for him to place her back on his shoulders and rejoin the team. He called back over his shoulder for her attention. “I love you, baby! Go get off your feet!” 

“Sit down, Mommy!” 

“Yeah, sit down, Mrs. Richmond!” 

Patrice wore a semi-serious scowl on her face and threw her hands up to stop the barrage of demands. 

“Woah, woah, woah! I am grown,” she hollered back to everyone in the area. She began the slow journey toward her team and clapped her hands. “Just for that, let me see that Hot To Go routine. If you mess up, you owe me a lap.” 

A collection of teenage girl groans made Patrice crack a smile.

Maybe Terry was right.

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl

[shutupineedtothink]

More ep 7 thoughts, now that I’ve watched it twice and processed 🫠

Bookending the episode with Lilia’s fall but first it’s down and then it’s up - sick, twisted, beautiful, devastating, I’m crying

The soundtrack really goes hard in this ep

The wildest part about the “ex best friend” line is all of those things are equally insane - ex, ex best friend, or best friend. Like ma’am what hex were you living in

Babysitter is likely a reference to the comics, but interesting also in terms of WV because we saw Agatha babysit the twins only once I think. Does this mean she actually spent more time with them than we know?

Wow once again Kathryn Hahn is doing so much work in this first scene with Billy, she’s going from snarky to wary to calculating to hurt to i don’t even know. She’s doing a masterclass in face acting.

When they start to climb toward the castle, Agatha has her hands clasped behind her back and initially I was just like ma’am, why are you like this, but then I realized oh. Her hands are tied right now.

Waning moon for the Crone trial babyyyyyy called it

Fun and fast transition to get us into the trial, since we know the deal by now

She’s based on me you know — sooooo, tragic, misunderstood, secretly suffering her whole life, constantly judged by others, uh huh uh huh

Prove it - he really doesn’t believe a word she says! And she looks so hurt by it!

The way Agatha sits in the chair omg girl please chill

This is such like an Indiana Jones trap I love it

God I love Lilia’s visions, changing the perspective to hers, the blurring around the edges - sometimes you don’t need to do much, but it’s hella effective

Actually a lot of good camera tricks in this ep I’m not going to point them all out

It’s about limiting beliefs baybeee - once again the writers showing they know their psych

I’m sorry that tea leaves to the underground transition??? Spectacular

“Well tell me what more I should see when I look at you. No, I mean it” - hey nonviolent communication, how’s it going 🤌

God can you imagine how scary it would be to have these visions as a CHILD

Did you not see imminent impalement in your future?? Lol why did this get me

I get the fake nose on Agatha but idk maybe I could’ve done without it

Teenager his full name LOLOL underrated joke

Dory OMGGGGG

Jen being the ultimate Lilia champion this ep and I love it. Also seems to contradict her behavior even more in Agatha’s trial, but she’s still more snappy with Agatha here too

What are you wearing, I don’t wanna talk about it - bruh every line. EVERY LINE.

Did I mention the transitions are killer

Your task is not to control but to see. - I, I can’t keep writing down every line but

I love that as soon as Jen knows what’s going on, she’s totally on board, just asking Lilia for intel, like yep this is normal now

Ahhh the spell book. Interesting that Lilia finds it.

Ohp - I wish Lilia was here. Ask and you shall receive - see the Billy’s Road theory

She calls him baby again 😭

Is snappy dialogue one of my biggest joys on this earth? I think it is

Proper tarot takes time and care. And leads to large gaping wounds - …. You mean like internal wounds? Like trauma? Like you have to bring up the trauma to heal it? Uh huh uh huh cool cool cool cool you said it Agatha not me.

The Magician, the ability to turn all of your goals into reality - Agatha immediately side eyes him. Bruh.

I’m a forgotten woman. Then remember yourself. 🤌🤌🤌

I was falling. I will fall. - CAMERA. MOVEMENT.

What will you do with your remaining time 🤝 all we can do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us. Iykyk.

The subway baybeee get that House of R theory

God this tarot spread scene is so epic.

Ok Jen being the path ahead… I gotta come back to that

Agatha is the obstacle yep that makes sense (but the obstacle is the way)

Windfall - Billy, miraculous transformation uh yep ok

Destination - Death. Such a good reveal, even if I already knew it. Once again the power of good writing. In the end all roads lead to me. UGH WTF

NOT THE GREEN VINES SPELLING A BIG OL “R” WHEN THE DOORS OPEN

The original green witch…. Ok so she is in the coven… but also Billy’s in the coven? It’s a shared black heart? Or it means you can go one direction or the other… hm.

Ughghghghhh her just giving them each what they need before she sends them onward. She’s the GOAT.

Did I mention the music????

This whole scene is so EPIC. The tower upright fuck it up queen

Oh my God Lilia took her power back 😭

We didn’t see a body unlike Alice I’m holding onto that “see you at the end” lyric with all my might at this point

Time in a bottle was sick and twisted and beautiful I love it

I just… can’t believe this is something I got to witness. Like it’s so good I’m mad about it.

A few other quick thoughts:

Jen being the path ahead… if she was birth in the first trial (see my maiden mother crone trial theory), then maybe she’s also REbirth? It’s a circle sewn with fate… we’re going back to the beginning but emerging from the Road this time. Eh??

Patti…. PATTI!! Where’s her Emmy? Where’s the show’s Emmy???

Not only was this a better time travel plot than the rest of Marvel as I said in another post but it’s also better than time travel in Doctor Who for the last 10 years and that pisses me off low key.

Not to jump ahead but buckle up kids cuz if we’re following the loose structure of WandaVision then ep 8 is our flashback/reliving the trauma episode for Agatha and as much as I was destroyed by this ep I am so not ready for all of that.

Anyway. What a masterpiece. I’m DONE.

[ambrosialdesire]

Can I request yandere porco x reader who doesn't take him seriously/ isn't afraid of him or being bratty or whatever so he transforms to scare her

hellion

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: s4 porco x fem!reader word count: 5.9k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, past + current human-trafficking/purchase mentions, forced feminization/infantilization, stockholm syndrome development, forced proximity, torture/violence mentions (choking, starvation, drowning, tying up), drugging (sedation), prey & predator vibes, kinda psychological horror?, humiliation, slight praise, degradation, slight gaslighting, kinda mindbreaky, all characters are 18+ synopsis: you were an impulse purchase that he never thought he'd make before, and although he doesn't regret it, he's having a difficult time trying to soothe your feisty spirit. who knew that all it took was one transformation and a chase you'll never forget? a/n: i'm gonna be so fr idk how to write bratty characters LOL i rarely read bratty readers in general so i'm really free-balling this 💀 kinda simple and to the point compared to my other fics, esp since i've never wrote for porco before so this is like testing the waters and most likely SUPER ooc. it's also more of a psychological fic since i'm not in the mood of writing complete nsfw haha but i hope you enjoyed this anon! sorry it also took so long to be done but then took me like three days to make and edit 😅 (i still think it's a little sloppy, esp the end BUT that's what anon questions are for so i can sorta explain and piece it together more lol) again, hope y'all enjoy!! note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

He hated when you got like this, putting up a constant nonsensical fight against him.

You'd be a perfect candidate to be his successor from the way you bite down into his skin when he tried to touch you, scratching up his face when he got too close, and always almost managing to slip through his grasp to dash towards the open basement door before he tugged the chain wrapped around your throat back towards him, watching you bare your teeth at him angrily. You were truly a wild animal, that's why he chose you in the first place.

Porco wanted to tame this wild spirit of yours, simply for the fact to see if he could.

Little progress was made, he made your purchase not long ago in the slums of Liberio, where the truly wicked and evil roamed to sell and purchase anything deemed illegal by the Marleyan government. As much as he refused to take these kinds of assignments, preferring to be back on the battlefield with Zeke and Pieck, Porco was already in deep waters for fighting with Reiner again. Not his fault that the Vice Captain's face was so punchable. Thus, here he was, being forced to shut one of the operations down that was said to involve a human-trafficking ring. Down he went alone in disguise, shuffling through the disgusting sweaty bodies of devil scum drooling over a piece of fresh meat on the stage.

He remembered got a good view of the bidding, eyeing each fearful chained-up person with boredom until you were pulled up. God, you really were the star of the stage. Two burly men had to tug your fighting body onto the crumbling wooden stage, a mixed sound of what could be a snarl and screech emerging through your cracked and bruised lips as you refused to move any further. You put up a good fight against the henchmen, the crowd jeering at the display of tug-o-war.

Once they managed to get you to the middle, the auctioneer started to ramble on about your pricing. Your hands may be wrapped in cloth and tied together, but the minute he neared you to show you off, you struck him with a mean uppercut, almost pouncing on him once he fell over before the two men held you back. Even then, you were thrashing around on your wounded feet, spitting out curses and howls at the fuckers beneath you, telling them that you'd hope they'd all burn and rot in hell.

He's the only one that snorted at that statement, feeling all eyes on him.

Porco really wasn't any different from those around him as he raised his hand up, offering over a thousand for the wild girl, more than what the other fucks around him could possibly afford. It won't make a dent in his bank account either because once he takes you home, the authorities would've already been called to the place. He gets to keep his money and you, while Marley gets rid of more scum; a two in one deal. You glared down at him, a burning fire settling deep within the darks of your pupils as he grinned back in return.

You were going to be a fun little purchase, that he's sure of.

He didn't really want to, but considering that you were a snappy little thing, you had to be down in the basement of his home until he managed to get your temper under control. The chain was long enough for you to reach the bathroom down there from the bed, but not long enough to reach the door. Once you managed to slightly calm down, realizing that your new "owner" was unfazed by your act as he leaned against the wall, you cautiously settled on the bed. You were still tense, unsure of what his intentions are.

"You got a name?" Porco started, finally breaking the silence as he crossed over his arms.

"You have my papers, don't you?" Your eyes squinted at him, the raspy retort coming quick out your mouth. He did, but he didn't bother looking at them just yet.

He scoffed, pushing himself off the wall, slowly stepping closer to you. "Snarky one, aren'tcha? Just tryna be a little civil here."

"Civility? Don't make me laugh. Buddy, you're the one that bought me. I think we both know that any sort of civility you had has been long gone the moment you raised your stinkin' fucking hand in the auction and brought me down here." If your temper wasn't enough indication of a need of reformation, your mouth definitely was.

"I'm surprised you even lasted that long in the slums with that tongue and attitude of yours, most would've been turned into chopped meat without even a second thought." You were about to say something back before he slammed his hand into your face, pushing your head into the bed and prying your mouth open with his fingers. A gurgle of a scream erupted out of your throat as you struggled to push him off you, but no dice.

"But I'm not like most. Me? I could crush your skull whenever I want, maybe slowly pull each of your limbs apart so you'll feel each tendon and ligament rip away from your sorry torso." Porco pushed harder until you got the message, silencing yourself as your face ached and throbbed from the pressure, yet your eyes still held that same vindictiveness from the auction that never seemed to quite be quenched. Your jaw abruptly closed around his fingers, a pained hiss slipping out of his lips as the pearly whites grinded into his skin.

He's going to relish seeing that light die from you, when you finally realize that he's the sole reason of your living, that you should've been grateful from the start that he's the one that bought you instead of the beer-gut ridden trash that wasted away in the slums.

Porco finally removed his hand out of your mouth, drool and teeth indentations staining his fingers. Light steam was coming off of them, the superficial wounds closing up. He knew you caught that, eyes focused on his hand.

"Now, get some rest. Training begins tomorrow."

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

When he said training, he meant torture.

That's what you thought as you experienced every debilitating and humiliating ritual he forced onto you every day. You eventually learned his name because of someone saying it upstairs — God you wished that the floors above were as soundproof as the basement's walls— Porco, but you called him 'piggy' sometimes, despite him trying to train you into saying sir. Simple, but it got him irritated real fast.

Porco was a strange man, you knew he was definitely not like the other men you've came across in your imprisoned life. Every wound you made on his person, no matter how deep you curled your nails into him or bite down as hard as you possibly could, he was left unblemished. Not even a fading scar or lasting indent, it was as if you've never injured him in the first place.

He bled, the taste of iron familiar on your tastebuds, but it really was like nothing occurred after a few minutes. You knew that he healed fast too, that weird steam came out of the wounds right after you inflicted it from what you could see with the lantern light, but you don't know why it did. Were you so out of touch from the outside for so long that new medical advancements were made?

He also disappeared for short periods of time, leaving you occasionally starving if he didn't leave enough food beforehand and surprisingly bored; he was really your only company nowadays, so it was quite frustrating to come to the conclusion that you'd even miss the bastard despite the shit he's made you go through. Once Porco came back though, he'd be a little nicer to you but that would last for roughly a week once you gotten sick of his company again.

He only sedated you when he needed your complete compliance or when he deemed you too much, your head rolling around weakly as he undresses and bathes you with him in the tub, the heightened sensation of calloused hands brushing against every inch of your skin. You may be out of it, but every other sensation was magnified. It was the only peace the two of you got with each other, even if you weren't a truly willing participant.

Porco was also quiet when it came to this activity, the steam and heat of the tub creating a slight flush on his tanned cheeks as he leaned back against the porcelain. His normally gelled-back blond hair would be damp and falling over his face, expression lax. You thought he was on the completely lankier side before since you rarely see him without the green coat, but no, he was quite muscular despite being pretty slender.

It made sense, he's lifted and thrown you like you weighed absolutely nothing, holding you down without much struggle, and letting you exhaust yourself while he looked completely normal.

He seemed disinterested in each other's nudity, though you did notice the first few times when he started the bathing routine that he took in every little detail of your body, eyes wandering more than usual. It's not like you could've stopped him and he never touched you sexually, only touching your privates to clean those areas. You've accidentally let out a quietly hitched breath here and there when he brushed those digits of his in-between your pussy, your drugged mind struggling to comprehend the feeling. You believed that he never noticed during those mishaps, not bothered in the slightest during it but whenever he got out of the tub first, it was pretty obvious he'd be partially aroused.

You wouldn't say that you were completely innocent in the act of staring at the other either, you've spotted his cock more than a few times and were slightly internally glad that he never took it for a spin against you. He must be a show-er more than a grower (if he was any lengthier hard, you might be in trouble), but he was notably bigger than the other disgusting men you've came across. Thank god for that, at least. It was finally nice looking at a man that wasn't built like a water buffalo in denial of balding and having the smallest dick around.

As time passed by, you feel like you confirmed your suspicions that he never really was interested in using you for any sexual needs, he was more into seeing how much it would take for you to break. Maybe he's done this to others to get his rocks off, but you'd never give into the sick man's perversions.

One thing that was prominent you've noticed while in his care was that he rarely made you do anything by yourself. He's the one that fed you with you on his lap, clothed you in stupidly feminine outfits from the start of the day to the night, bathed you alongside him. He cleaned and dressed any wounds you inflicted on yourself, but left surface scratches and bruises alone. Porco was in complete control and if you didn't let him take the reins, that's when the punishments rolled in.

Balancing books on your head as you stood on your tiptoes, if any of them fell or if you went back on your heels, he'd hit the back of your calves hard with a riding crop and restart the entire thing. Forcing your head over a bucket of freezing cold water, asking you difficult questions with no right answers to them, and pushing you down into it when you said anything that he didn't want to hear. He choked you out and left you intentionally starved for days when you refused to eat what he made, tied up and blindfolded in a tight closet with no indication of how long time had passed because you didn't want to wear what he chose, anything to ensure that you've learned your lesson.

You didn't, of course you never did. Whenever he asked if you had enough, you only just laughed at him and spat at his face, the punishments only ending once he got tired of it. Your stubborn attitude was the only thing keeping you sane in this world of yours.

No matter how much you were forced to endure endless embarrassment and shame, you'll never grovel or beg for mercy, not even shedding a tear for the agonizing pain you felt as you laid on the scratchy mattress every night. And besides, he wasn't the only one who tried and he most certainly would be the last once you figured out how to get out of here.

You felt a jab to your stomach, abruptly waking you from your short rest. The lights weren't even turned on, but even you knew that the next horrid day has just begun, a flashlight blinding you next.

"Morning sweetheart, you know what time it is? It's 3 in the morning, nice and early for our next session. Are you going to be good and let me put your outfit on?" The nicknames only started a few weeks ago, just because you were being obedient and compliant to his demands. It's to make you feel nice, to think that's what you should be doing to get on his good side.

Fuck, he's really insane.

Obviously since you were completely exhausted, you might as well let him take control again until you regained more strength. You nodded slowly, rubbing your eyes as he finally moved the light off of your eyes. He murmured something of a praise, stroking your head gently before going upstairs to retrieve the outfit. You sat there in silence, partially nodding off until you heard his footsteps near the door, body slightly stiffening.

You may not be outwardly afraid of him, but unconsciously, he made you become unintentionally afraid of the new fucked up punishments that he created. At a certain point in this life, it was undeniable not be terrified of something unexpected.

"A friend recommended this new place for women clothes since she noticed I've been in a good mood lately." Porco pushed the door open, a light pink babydoll dress in his hands. "Ain't it nice? Might be better than all the other ones I've put you in, the seamstress really has outdone herself, don't you think sweetie?"

Everything about it looked too short, ruffles and lace making most of the skirt and the sleeves overtly puffy. He may think he's putting you into something cute, but it was obviously something uncomfortable to wear. It's intentionally supposed to make you tick, you knew it was.

"It's..." You started, thinking about how to go around this without sounding offensive. "Pink."

He frowned, obviously expecting more from you but simply shook his head. Alright, that was a somewhat valid response.

"Still tired huh? Yes, most of your clothes are pink, but this one," He placed the dress next to you, along with the undergarments and shoes. "This one is for a special occasion."

Special occasion? A year must've already passed by since he purchased you, it wouldn't be all that surprising if he was celebrating that. You lifted your arms up and let him remove your nightgown, leaving you only in your underwear. Porco removed the dress from the hanger, turning towards you and pulling the dress over your head and arms, organizing it properly over your body.

Definitely too small now that you were wearing it, the bands around the arms making it feel like you were gonna lose circulation on them and your breasts nearly spilling out of the top of the dress, no matter how much he was adjusting it. The skirt was also way too revealing, just barely covering your panties but he soon tugged those off, putting on an even more scantily clad pair. He brushed out your hair, taking a few pieces and attaching a bow with it behind your head. The shoes were just simply white flats, the only part of the outfit that you had no problem with.

"There. Such a beautiful girl, wouldn't you agree?"

He cooed as he stood you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pulling off the drape that covered the mirror. You weren't allowed to use the mirror, that was what he said as one of the rules way back then. You didn't know why he asked that of you, but you've never seen yourself in years anyways, the details of your appearance foggy in each glimpse of a reflecting surface. The basement was dark too, the only sources of light being the flashlight or lanterns that Porco brings down here to see you. But this?

This was the first time you truly felt horrified at anything, bruises of varying colors littering around your skin, most prominently around your neck. You looked sickly, a pale complexion covering your skin, and bone-dead tired, eyebags weighing under your lower eyelids heavily. The only thing that looked decent on you was your brushed out hair and dress, despite how it squeezed at your almost feeble body.

"What... what did you do to me?" Your hands went over your face, feeling your very soul crumple into itself.

Porco snorted, his hand wrapping around your jaw and forcing you to look at the reflection. "Nothing. This is you, all you. The only thing I've done is the bruises but everything else is your fault."

You pushed him back, his body hitting the wooden door with a thud. Tears were starting to well up in your eyes since the first time in forever as you balled your fists at your side. You started wailing, curses slipping through your lips.

"Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"

"Y/N—" His tone was becoming angry, a warning.

Porco never said your name before.

You took off one of the flats and quickly threw it hard at the mirror, multiple fragments shattering off the wall. You grabbed the biggest piece that landed on the ground, feeling the palm of your hand cut open, warm blood spilling down your fingertips. Without a second thought, you lunged at your captor. Porco was stronger as he stopped you midway of your attack, but his hands slipped from the grip he had on your bloody hands and wrists, it was almost unnoticeable but not to you.

With the little strength you had left, you gave it your all, letting out a wrathful shriek as you jabbed the piece into his stomach, twisting it in as deeply as you could.

The world fell silent as you watched his blood seep through his shirt.

This was the first time you've looked into his eyes in the light and this close in general, the hazel color showing nothing but displeasure. You heaved slowly, taking in shaky breaths through your nose. Slowly, you released the shard and backed away from his still-standing body, the chain connected to you rattling along on the stony ground with your movements. Your eyes were still locked onto him, impatiently waiting for him to collapse so you can take the key out of his dying cold body.

Yet, that didn't happen.

"You're fucking pathetic, stupid even." Porco's hand reached for the mirror shard embedded in his gut, pulling it out with a slight hiss, as if it was nothing but a splinter. "If only, just only, you remembered that I can heal from any wound that your dumbass places on me, we wouldn't have this issue but I guess I gave your slow little brain one too many hits."

The steam was coming off of him again as he threw the bloody shard pack into the broken pile, your teeth baring at him.

"What the hell are you? Some kind of monster?" He laughed, pushing his hair back with blood, the red mixing in with the dark blond.

"Worse," Porco charged at you with inhumane speed, grabbing your throat and lifting you up in the air with one hand, your hands clawing at his forearm as black spots began to form in your vision. "I'm one of the worst monsters of them all. A Titan."

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

You awoke to find yourself in a forest.

Originally, you thought you died. It's been years since you've last seen the outside, even felt the wind's breeze go against your face and feel the rising sun's rays warm up your skin. Yet, as you opened your eyes, you reached out to the grass, feeling the smooth blades brush up against your fingers, you knew you were still alive.

Sitting up, you slowly took in the surrounding environment. Did Porco abandon you because he thought you were dead? A giddy feeling rose up from within, excited about the possibility of finally, finally having the freedom that you've desired for so long. You wobbly stood up, realizing that you were still in the outfit he made you wear, now stained with dried blood. Ugh, at least he should've had the decency to put you back in rags or something before dumping your 'corpse'.

How far were you from the nearest civilization? You'd be lucky if you managed to come across one before either dying of dehydration or starvation, hoping you'd run into an Eldian internment zone rather than a major Marleyan city. Maybe even dying here in the wilderness would be a better death than being around people again, considering that all of them would just disappoint you once more.

There was a sound of grass crunching, small branches breaking from behind you as footsteps drew closer.

"Awake aren't we?" Fuck. You turned around, seeing him standing back at a distance, still wearing his bloody clothes.

"I wish I wasn't now that I know you're here piggy. Goddamnit, why didn't you just fall over and die when I stabbed you?" You grumbled the last half, tugging at the bottom of the skirt dejectedly. From afar, you could imagine that his eyebrow was twitching in irritation once you mentioned the nickname.

"You're so annoying, you know that? It's been a year and no matter what I do to you, you still persist. Still convincing yourself that you can't be broken. You've really ran me dry to figure out what I can do to make that pretty little head internally pop, well, I got one more thing that'll make you finally listen to me." Porco fished out a small pocket knife out of his jacket, holding out his palm for you to see before he sliced the middle of it, blood immediately gushing out.

"I'll give you a 15 minute head start, timer starts when I transform. If you can hide or outrun me, I'll let you go free. No catches, you'll simply be free to walk among us again. But if I find and catch you," A cocky smile grew on his face, pointing the knife down at you. "You're going back to the fucking basement."

Wait. What does he mean by transform?

A flash of blinding lightning appeared abruptly right in front of you, gusts of wind nearly knocking you over. You covered your face to try and shield yourself from the sudden weather change onslaught, the sound of something crunching forming loud in your ears. The light finally faded away after a few minutes gone by, a huge shadow hovering over you instead. Hesitantly, you peered up out of your arms and gaped in horror as you stared at the monster in front of you.

Where Porco once stood, a bony skull-like faced Titan stood before you on all fours, a mane of familiar blonde hair wrapping around its head like a lion. It had a shorter and muscular stature than most Titans you've seen in books before your kidnapping, still towering over you but not as much as a normal Titan would. White-tipped claws on each of its digits were prominent on both its hands and feet, digging into the soft grassy ground beneath it.

What the fuck? What the fuck?! Your captor was the Jaw Titan user the entire time? Is that why he disappeared every now and then? Holy shit, you knew what the Jaw Titan user's dick looks like.

Its small hazel eyes glared down at you through the skull-like mask and you felt frozen to the spot, too afraid to make any move. Was he even still in control of himself in there? A guttural growl came out of it then, snapping you out of it.

Porco's waiting for you to move, he... he wants to chase you down. You have no other choice, and you'd rather put up another fight than to lay down belly-up.

You took off the other flat that still remained on your foot and threw it at the face of the creature, soon dashing as quickly as possible into the lush forest. In your head, you knew your outfit was going to be an immediate sore thumb in the surrounding greens and browns so you started to rip it apart as you ran, trying to scatter the pieces as much as you possibly could to throw off the trail. All you were left in was your thin underwear and even that was a risk to keep on, but it was all you had left to preserve the dignity you were barely holding onto.

As you ran, you felt every stray branch dig into your already-damaged skin and every breath you took in felt like needles in your nostrils. It was better than nothing, better than getting immediately caught by that thing. You don't know how much time has passed since you started running, all you knew was that you must've wasted precious seconds when you gawked at the atrocity of a Titan.

There was a whipping sound and then a thud, trees cracking and breaking behind you. The echo of birds flapping away from the source, cawing in alarm rang loudly in your ears and you felt immediate dread crawl up your spine. Your head start was up, he's coming.

You still ran as fast as you could despite the burning in your underused muscles, trying to find somewhere decent to hide in. An overgrowth, a bush, anything at this point. The sounds of whipping and cracking were getting closer and closer, panic bubbling in your stomach until you missed a step, falling over and knocking the wind out of yourself.

You cried out as quietly as possible once you got air back in your lungs, slowly sitting up with damp dirt clinging onto your bare skin. Taking a glance at the ledge you fell from, an idea popped in your mind. Underneath, it was wide enough to fit your body and deep enough for you to hide in, so long as you could cover yourself up with leaves and dirt. The sound of a gurgling snarl close by meant that you had little time to put your plan into action, and you grabbed the nearby shrubbery in handfuls, crawling into the space as fast as you could.

Laying on your back, your place the gathered materials on your body, completely covered from head to toe. You didn't know how it looked on the outside, but it had to be something that could be overlooked when he was searching around. It had to be because you were not going back, you refused to.

The close rumble of the ground almost had you scream out in terror, but you put your hands over your mouth as tightly as you could, your breaths shaky out of your nose. The thuds grew closer and closer, body jumping with each passing step, and then it stilled. You could slightly see what was going on outside, heart dropping when you immediately spotted him.

The Titan was just standing there, completely still besides his head moving around to scan the area. He must've figured out that your clothing trail had gone cold or that it was fake the entire time, but the one thing you knew was that he was quick to catch up either way. A hissing sound, almost sizzling, broke the silence. You watched as Porco's original body appear out of the creature's upper back, right near the neck.

What. The. Hell.

"You're here, aren't you?" His voice was calm, no hint of frustration or irritation. Porco had too much pride to proven wrong, he was confident that he tracked you in the right spot and you hate that he was correctly onto you.

"Your footsteps stopped not too far from here, y'know. You tryna hide now? Ran out of stamina? Twisted your ankle?"

You clenched your eyes tightly together, praying that he'll give up, that he won't find you. Never in your wretched life have prayed before, but you'd start worshipping the very god that'll manage to make sure that Porco won't look in this shallow cavern.

"Fine. If you don't want to reveal yourself—"

There was another sizzling sound, your eyes opening and seeing that he went back into the body, the creature beginning to move once more. The Titan then opened its bony maw, revealing a second pair of sharper teeth before an ear-bursting screech projected out of it, your hands shooting to your ears to try and cancel out the horrid sound. The scream kept wailing aloud like a never-ending storm alarm, your head beginning to ache. It felt like it was going to pop the longer it went on, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

Stop it, stop it, stop it!

Silence.

There was a slight ringing in your ears, but the screaming was gone and when you looked out of your hidey-hole, he was no longer standing there. Did he actually give up? You stayed still in the divot, head throbbing and heart pounding against your ribcage. You'll even wait until the next morning if it meant for any kind of confirmation that he was gone.

Suddenly, a claw came down on the roof of your cavern, the sharp tips just barely missing your body. It ripped away the dirt and rock, the sunlight blinding you as you sputtered out the pieces that came down on your face from the removal. Complete fear radiated off your expression as its unnerving mask stared down at your trembling form. You... lost.

You think that its — his — eyes were gleaming with glee right now, seeing how pitiful you looked, filthy and damaged. His hand reached for you, body stiffening as the fingers curled around you, picking you out of the hole carefully. The body of the Titan slumped down and the same hissing sound came out of the back of it, Porco reappearing once more.

"Took me only 30 minutes to find you, what a pathetic attempt of a run," He insulted, leaning his body over the fuzzy head of the creature. "Though, I will have to give props to you with the hiding. I wouldn't have spotted you until you moved in the hole from the scream."

"P-please... make this th... thing stop touching me." You almost whispered, the coldness and rough texture of its grip tight around your body. You hated that you were directly forced to stare at it, its eyes blank but still glaring deep within your soul.

"You afraid of it? You scared of the big bad Titan?" Porco taunted, his arm slightly moving and the grip tightening around you even more. You let out a strangled cry, your breathing becoming erratic. The feeling of the jagged bones jutting into your flesh like squeezing a balloon to its limit, the imagery of your organs bursting out of you, began to make you hysterical.

"Please s-st... stop! P-please! I... I don't want to die! Porco, I'm begging you! Get me out!" You started sobbing, blobs of tears flowing down your cheeks. You hated him, but you hated this monster even more. To think that they were truly real, a true threat to your fragile existence, it was something that was horrifyingly difficult to mentally process.

Porco gawked at your sniveling body, not even trying to wiggle out of the Jaw Titan's hand but still crying out to him for his help. This is what he wanted right? To see you completely give up, to depend on his assistance, to save you. He felt so fuzzy and dizzy on the feeling, almost like he drank too much liquor. Just to play around with you a little more, his hand twitched, causing the Titan to squeeze you even more.

You screamed out in fear once the pressure got even more narrow, your cries resonating louder within the deep forest as you simultaneously begged him to stop. Aw, how adorable but alright, he's had his fun for the day. This might've gotten the message across, let's see how long it'll last or else he'll have to do this again and again if he had to.

"Will you finally listen to me?" He finally spoke up, your teary eyes immediately meeting his and nodding furiously without hesitation.

"Yes! Y-yes I will!"

"And what do I want to hear from you?" You sniffled, looking completely drained of all fight.

"I-I'm sorry... s... s-sir. I wo... won't ever do i-it again."

Porco thought he never felt such euphoria in his life until he heard your apology, a wickedly proud grin growing on his face. He pulled himself out of the Jaw Titan's back, watching the creature start to steam and deflate as he reached for you, peeling its fingers off of your body and helping you down. Unexpectedly, you latched onto Porco once you got on the ground, your arms wrapped around him tightly in a vice hug. You... never did that before.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You repeated over and over again, your tears wetting his coat. "I won't fight you again, I-I promise sir."

His hand reached over to your head, light stroking the tangled strands as you trembled against his body. "That's what you get for being a bitchy brat, you don't want me to do it again right?"

You shook your head in response, gripping onto his clothes even tighter at the thought of being chased by that thing again.

"Then you gotta listen to me better, okay? You listen, no Titan. And now that I'm reminded of your bad manners, you've torn up that pretty dress of yours earlier. That wasn't cheap, you ungrateful bitch. How are you going to make it up to me?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Worry began to fill up your still-teary expression as you pulled your face out of his shoulder. You were taking every insult with a grain of salt, dismissing them completely. "I-I'll do anything to make it up to you, sir."

Porco really wasn't any different from the devil nuisances down in the slums, an excited shiver going through his system. If you're really offering anything, then he might as well get what he deserved out of you, he's been waiting a year for it after all. He lifted your face with one hand, rubbing away a smudge of dirt off of your skin with his thumb.

"We'll discuss what you can do about it later. Now, let's go home and get ourselves cleaned up, you smell like mud and look like shit." Another apology slipped through your lips as he moved forward with your hand in his, the corners of his mouth curling upwards with pure joy.

The animal within you has become neutralized, the flame dying and being left behind with the fading Titan behind the two of you.

Porco finally got what he paid for.

[autistic-ben-tennyson]

Ben and Gwen: lonely kid and gifted child

I’ve thought a lot about these two and their family dynamic. Both are relatable to me but in different ways. Like Gwen, I’ve always been the “mature” one who was good at school and loved by the adults in my life, but I also don’t have any friends and have a desire for fame and attention like Ben. At first glance, they seem to have little to complain about, being white kids with stable homes and two parents, compared to someone like Kevin, but there’s more to a character than just the surface and I think both have a lot of emotional issues relating to their self worth.

With Gwen, we get glimpses into her life and how everyone views her as perfect. Sunny envied how she was adored by her parents and Verdona and Gwen wished her mother would stop thinking of her as the “good influence”. All the adults in her family loved her and expected her to be the role model for the other kids which is a double edged sword. Yes you get praise and love but also pressure and high expectations. You’re expected to babysit the other kids and often have to bury your true feelings to please everyone and people will envy the love you get. And that love is often conditional and based around living up to their standards, remember how Natalie told her “normal people don’t glow” and how she doesn’t like her daughter or nephew using their powers around her.

As a kid, she was constantly doing extracurriculars like cotillion and judo before earning a scholarship to go to college early in Omniverse. We got a glimpse into her daily life in “It’s not Easy Being Gwen” where everyone expects her to fulfill certain obligations. Gwen seems like a child prodigy who feels she has to be the best and is always filling her schedule with activities and is always trying to get into the top schools. I think that’s why she fell for Kevin. He was the only one who loved her without putting her on a pedestal or because she’s family. The only person she could be herself around and doesn’t force her to act like a perfectionist. People complain about her outfit change in OV and I agree with some of the criticisms, but with all the pressure in her life, I get why she would want a change from the expectations in her life.

Ben strikes me as someone with a deep inferiority complex. It’s implied that he’s a bit of a loner who doesn’t have many friends with JT ditching him for Cash. He did get along better with Sunny which makes me wonder if he can relate to being in Gwen’s shadow. Fans talk about how great Carl and Sandra are as parents and while they are nice people, their free range approach can seem negligent. They only seemed concerned about Ben’s heroics once they witnessed it. By that time, Ben had been on late night road trips with Kevin, who punched holes in their doors, for weeks and didn’t even come home one night in “Save the Last Dance”. Ben may have acted the way he did in the OS as a cry for help as he feels neglected and the favoritism everyone has towards Gwen may rub off on him. It reminds me a bit of how Steven from SU acted the way he did in the early episodes because he was constantly being left alone without the gems or Greg while being compared to Rose. Kids who don’t have friends nor get much attention while living in a family member’s shadow can and do develop inferiority complexes.

Ben’s desire for fame seems to stem from wanting to be loved and wanting to feel special. He becomes so full of himself because people finally love him as opposed to viewing him as some average kid. Fans have dismissed the bullying he faced as cliche or unnecessary but it adds to his character. A lonely, bullied kid who’s in the shadow of his overachieving cousin will want something that makes him feel special, like the Omnitrix. Ben has to learn throughout the 4 shows that he is the hero, not the watch. I think that’s why he loved using transformations like Four-arms, Humungousaur and Feedback so much even if they were inadequate for the situation as they made him feel confident. The way he fights is reminiscent of standing up to a bully too, picking an intimidating form, offering a chance to back off and then doing what he can to stop the threat. It’s easy to write him off as just a spoiled brat or narcissistic but I think 1, that’s ableist and 2, is a rather shallow way of looking at his character. While he can be insufferable at times, is it wrong to want acknowledgement or praise when there’s people like Will Harangue or the Rooters who hate you just for existing? I think he deserves a break from fans who hate him and he acts a lot better than most kids would in his situation. Compare him to Shinji Ikari from Evangelion, who I also love as a character, who would break down after seeing what Ben has to deal with every day.

I think both may envy each other at times. Gwen has been shown to be jealous of Ben getting all the glory as well as how Ben was given a car by her boyfriend despite her parents being wealthier. Like Sunny, Ben may have viewed Gwen as a stuck-up overachiever who got all the respect from their parents. That was until they bonded and became friends in the OS but it occasionally came back like when Ben lashed out at her for telling him he couldn’t use Feedback, believing she was trying to take the only thing he had. Because they have it easier than Kevin, it’s easy to expect them to just get over it but I think both Tennyson cousins need a lot of therapy and need to talk about their issues with each other. Both characters mean a lot to me and remind me of my own struggles.

[hemmingsleclerc]

A different story┃RAB

Summary: where regulus and james’ sister raise harry together

Regulus Black and Y/N Potter had survived the war. The years since Voldemort's defeat had been filled with joy and sadness. Joy, because they had each other and the opportunity to build a new life together despite what everyone thought about them. Grief over the loss of James and Lily, Sirius' imprisonment in Azkaban, Peter's death and Remus' disappearance, leaving Harry in their care. They had promised to raise him as their own, determined to give him the love and family he deserved.

From the moment Harry arrived at Grimmauld Place, the once dark Black manor was transformed into a warm home. Regulus, no longer the young man who had once followed Voldemort’s ideas, had found a new path in his new role as a father. Y/N, with her strong and characteristic Potter kindness, made sure to brought light to every corner of her new life.

Harry's childhood with Regulus and Y/N was full of moments of love that he would remember throughout his life.

On Harry's first birthday after coming to live with them, Y/N and Regulus were determined to make it special. They decided to bake a cake without magic. The kitchen quickly became a disaster, flour covering every surface and Y/N with frosting in her hair.

"Reg, are you sure you read the recipe correctly?" Y/N asked, laughing as she tried to save a crooked layer of cake.

Regulus, with chocolate on his cheek, smiled shyly. "I'm pretty sure it said four cups of flour. Or maybe it was one…"

Despite the chaos, the cake turned out perfectly imperfect. When they show it to Harry, his eyes lit up with joy. "Happy birthday, Harry," Y/N said, kissing the top of her head.

"Happy Birthday, kid," Regulus added

When Harry received his Hogwarts letter, the house was filled with joy and a touch of bittersweet nostalgia. Regulus sat Harry down, with the letter spread out on the kitchen table. "This is where your parents went, Harry," he said softly, his eyes shining with pride and a hint of sadness.

Y/N, who was busy in the kitchen, stopped to ruffle Harry's hair. "You'll love it there, bunny. Just like your mom and dad did and so does Reggie and I."

The day he was dropped off at platform 9¾, Regulus and Y/N stood side by side, watching Harry board the train. Y/N had tears in her eyes and Regulus, although he tried to be calm, couldn't hide his emotion from him. "Be good, Harry," Regulus shouted. "And remember, we're only an owl away."

As the train pulled away, Y/N squeezed Regulus's hand. "Our little boy is growing up so fast," she whispered.

Years passed and Harry often found himself receiving Howlers from his aunt and uncle. Whether he was fighting with a troll or sneaking out of his common room after bed time, Harry's adventures with Hermione and Ron often left Regulus and Y/N worried.

One morning in the Great Hall, a Howler exploded in front of Harry, Regulus' voice echoing throughout the room. "Harry James Potter-Black! What were you thinking? The Triwizard Tournament? And a dragon? Honestly, sometimes I wonder if you have any common sense!" while hours later he received another one but this time from Y/N ''Harry, forgive Reg, he is very stressed and worried about you, we both are, we want you to know that we support you in everything and we know that you didn’t put your name on the cup, we will be there to see you at the tasks, in the meantime take care of yourself darling, we love you'' leaving Harry with a smile on his face.

As Harry grew older, he began to talk more about his friends and the special people in his life. One afternoon in the summer after their fifth year, Harry and Y/N were sitting in the garden, enjoying the warm sunlight. Harry hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Mom, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, dear," Y/N replied, looking up from her book.

"It's about Ginny," Harry began, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. "I think… I think I like her. A lot."

"Ah, young love, so beautiful" he said with a soft smile. "She's a lovely girl, Harry. Be yourself and everything will fall into place with her, after all traditions are never broken."

''tradition?'' Harry asked

“Yeah, some people called it a curse but that sounded awful”

“Potter curse?”

''Every male Potter has his redhead,'' Y/N recited with a closed smile

Later that evening, Regulus joined the conversation. "So, Ginny Weasley, huh?" he teased, nudging Harry with his elbow. "Just remember to treat her right buddy, or you'll have more than just her brothers to answer to."

Harry laughed, feeling a warmth spread through him with his cheeks burning red

Oh I loved how this turned out, I have so many ideas about this I hope u like it 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[alxtiny]

Ad Astra per Aspera

Episode 4

Pairing: Pirate!Ateez x Navigator!reader

Genre: pirate!au, fluff, angst, maybe smut

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: none?

Notes: its here woohoo 🥳 i’m lazy please understand, also maps been updated for this chapter

Playlist : wonder by shawn mendes | this side of paradise by coyote theory | in the kitchen by mree

Series Masterlist | Episode 5 | Episode 3

When the first light of dawn started creeping in, it stirred you from your slumber, and you blinked your eyes open to a fresh new day. For a moment, you wondered if last night had been just a dream, considering how you felt renewed and well rested.

But as you shifted, you became aware of something—or rather someone—behind you. You froze, realising you were nestled snugly in Yunho's arms, his head resting against your back and his arm tucked underneath your head. Your legs were tangled together in a dangerous dance that left you more flustered than you’d care to admit. You slowly pulled yourself away and turned around, staring at him for a second, taking in his peaceful expression, his flushed cheeks, and messy hair. He looked so… soft, you brushed away a few strands from his face, the ticklish feeling making him twitch.

His movement made you panic, and you quickly shot up from the mattress, almost losing your balance as you did so. The sudden jerks caused Yunho to awaken, his eyes slowly fluttering open. He blinked, looking at you with a sleepy, lopsided smile that made your heart race.

"Good morning," he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. He looked like a sleepy puppy.

"H-hi, good morning," you stammered, feeling your face heat up. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was aware of how close you had been.

Yunho stretched lazily, his long limbs extending out as he groaned. His tunic rose slightly, exposing a glimpse of his toned midriff, which only made your blush deepen. You quickly looked away, trying to compose yourself.

"We should probably go back up," you said, your voice a little shaky.

Yunho smiled again. "Yeah… let’s go before the others start wondering where we’ve been," he teased lightly, pushing himself to his feet and smoothing down his hair.

As Yunho flipped a few switches, the room began to transform back to its original state, the balcony retracting and the wall closing back up seamlessly. He gestured for you to follow him as he led the way back up the narrow passage. The ship was quiet, the crew likely still fast asleep, save for a few on night watch. Luckily, no one seemed to be around as you quietly made your way up and out of Yunho’s secret spot.

Once you were back on the deck, Yunho turned to you with a grin. "Alright, we’ve got a couple of hours before we need to get back to work. So, what do you want to do?"

You hesitated for a moment, still feeling tense because of the accidental cuddle, but Yunho didn’t seem to remember it at all. Maybe he hadn’t known, or maybe he was just brushing it off. Either way, it made the awkwardness dissipate a little.

"Well," you started softly, "I haven’t seen much of the ship yet. Maybe you could show me around?"

Yunho’s smile brightened, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "A tour of the ship? I can definitely do that!"

He stepped closer, his hands gently resting on your shoulders as he led you further across the deck. "Let’s start with the main deck. This is where most of the action happens during the day—sails, rigging, steering, all that fun stuff. Oh, and that’s where Hongjoong spends most of his time barking orders," Yunho said with a laugh, pointing toward the helm.

As he guided you through the ship, explaining each section with enthusiasm, you began to relax. The edge from earlier softening as Yunho’s cheery energy rubbed off on you. He showed you the various stations, the cabins, the weapons storage, and the little parts of the ship he liked the most.

By the time you went around and reached the bow of the ship, the sun had fully risen, sprinkling glitter over the water. Yunho leaned against the railing, looking out at the horizon.

"You know," he said, his voice softer now, "not many people get a personal tour of the ship directly from its engineer. It’s kind of special. That’s why I named it the Treasure."

You nodded, chuckling at his words, "I guess I’m lucky then.”

Yunho glanced at you, his eyes warm and gentle. "Yeah, I guess you are."

You stood together in silence for a while, watching the ocean stretch out before you, the ship cutting through the waves with ease. For the first time since being taken aboard, you didn’t feel like an outsider. You felt like you belonged, even if just for a moment. And standing there with Yunho, you couldn't help but think that maybe—just maybe—this strange, chaotic life might suit you well after all.

Unfortunately no moment lasts forever, as you and Yunho were abruptly interrupted by the loud voice of a crewman calling out for him. "Yunho! Captain’s asking for you!"

Yunho gave you an apologetic smile, "Looks like duty calls. You can stay here if you want, or maybe explore a bit more on your own. I’ll come find you later, okay?"

With a brief wave, Yunho left, leaving you alone on the deck. You sighed, feeling the quiet settle over you once again. Leaning against the railing, you closed your eyes, enjoying the sound of water splashing against the hull.

"What are you doing?" a deep voice cut through the white noise.

You glanced over to find Mingi standing next to you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you.

"Nothing much," you replied lazily, used to people showing up out of nowhere. "Yunho gave me a tour of the ship."

Mingi chuckled, amused. "Did he now? That’s interesting. He doesn’t usually do that. In fact, I think even most of our crew doesn’t know every corner of the ship like Yunho does."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

"Mhmm," Mingi confirmed with a nod. "But anyway, I’m sure you know why I’m here."

You groaned, already knowing where this was going. "Not again," you complained, slumping back against the railing. "You saw me last time—I barely managed to not cut myself. Isn't that enough proof of my lack of skill?"

Mingi chuckled, clearly not deterred by your reluctance. "Well, that’s why you have me, right? To help you out. Besides, we're doing self-defence and hand-to-hand combat today. San’s with us this time."

You pouted in defeat as Mingi grabbed your arm, easily pulling you up to your feet. There was no escaping this. "Fine," you muttered. "But don’t expect much."

With a resigned sigh, you let him drag you below deck, where he guided you to a spacious room. The floor was lined with mats, and some training equipment was stacked off to the side. The room had a faint smell of sweat, which made you grimace slightly, but you kept your complaints to yourself.

In the middle of the room was San, already stretching like a cat, his lithe movements making it clear how flexible he was. You couldn’t help but stare in awe at how effortlessly his body moved. As soon as San spotted you, his serious expression brightened.

"There you are," San said with a playful grin as he walked over. "Took you long enough."

"Well, she wasn’t exactly eager to come," Mingi replied, shrugging.

"Ahh, that makes sense." San smiled at you and gestured toward the mats. "Alright, we’ve got a lot to cover today. Why don’t you stretch a bit while Mingi and I demonstrate?"

You nodded, sitting down on the mats and began to stretch your arms and legs. The movement caused your joints to pop in protest, reminding you of just how long it had been since you’d done any serious physical exercise. In front of you, San and Mingi stood at a safe distance, preparing to demonstrate the basics of hand-to-hand combat.

Mingi positioned himself in front of San, his stance wide and solid, while San moved with the grace of a ballerina. "First things first," San began, his voice steady, "we're going to show you some defensive moves. You’re not going to be attacking anyone right away. The goal here is to protect yourself and get out of a situation safely."

Mingi nodded in agreement, raising his arms in front of his face, "First you need an idea on what areas to look out for and how to optimise your body weight to deflect an attack," he instructed.

San advanced on Mingi, throwing slow, deliberate punches that Mingi blocked easily, deflecting each one with minimal effort. "You see how Mingi doesn’t try to overpower me," San said, still moving. "He’s using my momentum against me, redirecting the force of the attack rather than absorbing it."

You watched, trying to take in as much information as possible. They moved with such ease, clearly experienced in the art of combat, while you still felt clumsy even while walking, but you knew you had to try. This wasn’t just some practice session for you—it was for your survival.

"Alright," San said, stopping and turning to you. "Now it’s your turn. Don’t worry, we’ll start slow."

You got up, feeling slightly nervous as you stood in front of San. Mingi stepped aside, watching with an encouraging smile.

"Okay, I’m going to come at you slowly," San explained. "All you have to do is focus on blocking and deflecting. Don’t worry about hurting me—I can handle it."

You swallowed nervously and nodded. San advanced, throwing a light punch, which you awkwardly tried to block. Your arms moved in the right direction, but your timing was off, and the force of San’s hand still made contact, though gently.

San's teasing grin was both playful and exasperated. "Oh wow, you are bad at this," he said, shaking his head. The comment made you pout in sadness, feeling pity at your own inexperience. But he wasn’t giving up on you, not yet.

"We’re gonna be here for quite a while. Let’s do it again, but this time, try to anticipate the movement a little earlier," San instructed, his tone still gentle.

You nodded hesitantly, feeling the fatigue already creeping into your limbs. Each movement took a lot of effort, and frustration was beginning to build. You didn’t understand why it was so difficult for you to get the hang of this. Part of you wanted to ask them to give up, to admit that maybe combat wasn’t for you, but then again, someday you might not have anyone to rescue you.

San threw another punch, and this time, you managed to block it more effectively. It wasn’t perfect—your movements still lacked the smoothness that came with experience—but it was better. You could feel the difference, even if it was small.

"Yeah! Like that!" Mingi cheered from the sidelines, his voice full of encouragement. "You're doing better."

His words gave you a boost of confidence, and you found yourself blocking a few more of San’s punches, though ineptly. Each round started to feel like a small victory. Even though it wasn’t easy, with every block, you could feel yourself getting a little more coordinated. It was a slow process, but progress was there, and that was enough for now.

Finally, after what felt like hours—though it couldn’t have been more than two—San grinned at you after another successful block. "See? You’re tougher than you think," he said, his eyes twinkling with approval.

You managed a weak smile, wiping the sweat off your face. "I’ve never done this much exercise in my entire 24 years of living," you said, your voice exasperated.

Mingi clapped his hands, full of energy as always. "Well, we’re not done yet. We still have to learn offense."

At his words, you nearly melted into the floor. "Ugh, I don’t think I can anymore. I might die at this rate," you wailed dramatically, feeling utterly spent.

San laughed softly. "Now, now. Nobody’s dying. Get up, and we can finish quicker."

With a groan, you begrudgingly got up, forcing your body to continue despite the overwhelming urge to collapse. They taught you how to throw a few punches—San showing you how to position your fist and use your body weight. You learned how to knee someone effectively in the stomach, break out of somebody’s grip, and a few other basic self-defense techniques. It was exhausting, but by the end, you felt satisfied, having learned at least something.

By the time the training was over, it was almost five in the evening, and you were both thirsty and starving. Earlier, you had managed to grab some bread and a banana for breakfast when you were with Yunho, but since then, you had been burning more calories than you could keep up with. The hunger gnawed at you, and your mouth was dry.

Collapsing onto the floor, you lay flat on your back, hoping the ground would somehow absorb you and put you out of your misery once and for all. Alas, that didn’t happen.

San and Mingi sat down next to you, both trying to catch their breath. "You did good for a beginner," San said, offering you one of his cute, dimpled smiles. "I think you’ll be fine. We’ll keep practising, of course, once we’re back from our job."

His smile did make you feel a little better, the exhaustion easing slightly in the warmth of his words. You smiled back, feeling grateful for the time he spent helping you.

Mingi stretched his arms above his head and glanced at the clock on the wall. "We should go eat. I’m kinda hungry."

You couldn’t agree more. Finally, you were allowed to leave the stuffy training room, the outside air feeling like a blessing against your sweaty skin. The scent of saltwater and fresh air was almost pleasant after the dusty, sweat-soaked room. You couldn’t wait to take a long shower, but that would have to wait until you docked. For now, food was your top priority.

The three of you made your way to the kitchen, with San and Mingi walking ahead, chatting quietly about something. When you entered the dining hall, it was much quieter than before. Wooyoung wasn’t here this time, and the room was mostly empty, save for some pots and pans that held the remnants of lunch. It seemed you had missed the main meal, but there were still leftovers.

You piled some food onto your plate—a mix of whatever was left—and ate with a ravenous hunger, barely pausing between bites. It was delicious, like everything else on the ship, and once your plate was cleared, you felt somewhat revived.

"Well, I’m off to find some peace and quiet," you said, waving goodbye to San and Mingi, who still seemed to be in the middle of their conversation. You were looking forward to some downtime, maybe even a nap before the next task came up. But first, you had to check in with the captain and get an update on the ship’s location. With a sigh, you made your way back up the deck, your body tired but your mind a little sharper, thanks to the training.

Outside, the sky had deepened into soft shades of dusk, the air crisp and cool with a light breeze that carried the scent of the sea. You made your way quietly to the helm where Captain Hongjoong stood, as usual, keeping watch with Seonghwa steering beside him. You stood silently next to them, earning a quick side glance and nod of acknowledgment from Hongjoong.

It was the last stretch of light before you reached your destination. If everything went smoothly, the ship might reach the shore by early morning—just in time for you to slip into your accommodation unnoticed. All of a sudden, a familiar voice rang out from the lookout.

“Land ahoy!”

Instantly, the deck erupted with a flurry of movement. You could hear the crew working, the sounds of ropes being handled and sails rustling into place as they adjusted for the final stretch after the confirmation of land. You glanced behind and saw Wooyoung descending from the lookout’s nest with his usual flair, skipping the makeshift ladder entirely and opting to climb down the rigging with scary speed. A small smile tugged at your lips—of course, Wooyoung wouldn’t do things the ordinary way. That simply wasn’t his style.

He rushed towards the helm, slightly out of breath, though his energy didn’t falter. “Captain! We have approximately 350 nautical miles more to go—” he began, before you cut him off.

“That means seven more hours?” you asked, already calculating the time in your head.

Wooyoung turned his head towards you, a little impressed. “Yeah, exactly.”

You looked ahead at the distant speck of land. “We might reach earlier than I thought,” you mumbled to yourself, glad that you had managed to lead them through successfully.

“The sooner the better,” Captain Hongjoong said, his tone laced with carefully concealed excitement. “We might get some time for respite.” He was a man of efficiency, but even he couldn’t deny the appeal of some well-deserved rest.

“The arrangements for our arrival will have already been made,” Hongjoong added.

“I can’t wait to take a shower,” you sighed, the thought of fresh water and cleanliness feeling like a luxury after days at sea. The salt, sweat, and exhaustion from the combat training earlier were still clinging to you, making the idea of a long, hot shower even more enticing. One would think you would have gotten used to the dirt and grime given the nature of your job, but unfortunately for you, you never did.

Wooyoung grinned, his usual playfulness shining through. “I think we’re all in need of that at this point. Just a little while more.”

Seonghwa spoke quietly from his place at the wheel. “Enjoy the peace while it lasts,” he said, his eyes focused on the sea, “because once we dock, it’s going to be a different kind of chaos.”

You sighed, knowing Seonghwa was right, but before you could dwell on it too much, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you found Wooyoung with a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He silently gestured for you to follow him.

Curiosity piqued, you trailed behind him until he stopped in front of the makeshift ladder by the main mast.

“We’re going up,” he said with a grin, pointing upwards towards the crow’s nest.

Your eyes widened. “You want me”—you pointed to yourself—“to climb that high?”

Wooyoung nodded eagerly, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you fall,” he added with a wink.

You squinted at him, unsure if he was serious or teasing, probably both. “Alright, but if I die, it’s on you,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

With a long sigh, you began the climb. The ladder was rough under your hands, and each step felt more unstable than the last. Twice, you nearly lost your grip, your heart leaping into your throat each time. Wooyoung, climbing right behind you, would chuckle softly each time you faltered, keeping an eye on you and helping you regain balance. After what felt like an eternity of effort and several near-death experiences, you finally reached the crow’s nest, breathless but alive.

“Woah,” you whispered in awe as you took in the view. The world stretched out infinitely before you, the sky blending into the sea. From up here, the ship seemed smaller, a lone vessel cutting through the vast ocean. The sunlight shimmered as it hit the waves, creating a mesmerising dance of light across the water, and the ship’s shadow rippled gently below.

“I know, right!” Wooyoung’s voice was full of excitement as he settled in beside you. “I thought you’d appreciate a little change of scenery. Something different from all that running around on deck.”

“I do,” you said, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply. The air up here was lighter, fresher—less of the dense, salty air that fogged around everything on the deck. For a moment, you just stood there, breathing it in.

Unbeknownst to you, Wooyoung was watching a different view, with a fond smile. Despite knowing so little about you, something about your presence felt familiar, comforting, like the easy bond of an old friend. He knew the others felt it too, it might have been because of the chemical that ran through all of your veins that created this invisible link between you. Whatever it was, Wooyoung knew he wanted to savour it for as long as possible.

Maybe, just maybe, you were the one who could help them like Captain Hongjoong had said.

“Thanks for bringing me up here,” you said, eyes opening slowly as you turned to Wooyoung. “I needed this.”

“Anytime,” Wooyoung replied softly, leaning back against the railing of the nest. His eyes flicked briefly to the sky before returning to you. “We’ll reach land soon, but before all of that starts, it’s nice to have moments like this, right?” Wooyoung’s voice was soft, and unusually calm.

You nodded, giving him a small, appreciative smile before you both made the climb back down. Once on the deck, you found yourself wondering what to do with the remaining six and a half hours, and the answer came easily—sleep. Who knew when you’d next get the chance? Dragging yourself to your small cabin, you collapsed onto the bed, and the moment your head hit the pillow, you were out.

You were woken by a strange sensation—like something soft and warm was… licking you? You cracked an eye, startled, only to find yourself staring right into Byeol’s big twinkling eyes. She was perched against the side of your bed, held up by none other than San himself, who was watching with an amused grin.

“Isn’t this the best alarm clock?” he said with a snicker, clearly entertained by your half-awake state.

You scowled, still groggy, and took Byeol from his hands, nestling her against your chest, trying to cuddle her to sleep with you. “This is why you don’t deserve her. She should live with me instead,” you muttered, pressing a kiss to Byeol’s head and closing your eyes again.

San huffed dramatically. “As if she’d want to live with you,” he teased back.

You squinted your eyes open again, giving him an offended glare. “Alright, what do you want? Why did you wake me?”

“Well, princess,” he began, leaning back with a smirk, “we’re about an hour from land. Captain sent this for you.” He held up a large leather backpack, swinging it back and forth in front of you. “You don’t have much since you were… uh, abducted twice. So we packed a few essentials for you, things you’ll need until we can dock, apart from clothes—those you can get at the port, since we’ll have a bit of time to spare.”

You blinked, taking the bag from him. “Ah… I see. Thank you.”

San’s grin softened, and he gave you a friendly clap on the shoulder. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it. Meet us up on the deck in half an hour.”

With a click of his tongue, he called Byeol, who bounded after him, leaving you alone with the bag and a few moments to gather yourself. Opening the pack, you found various useful items—water, some bandages, a small pouch of coins, and a map of the area near the port, along with a neatly folded blanket and some dried snacks. It was certainly very thoughtful of them, they could’ve left you without anything if they wanted to but they didn’t.

You took a deep breath, setting everything back into the bag before slinging it over your shoulder. After a few more minutes of preparing yourself phys and mentally, you climbed up to the deck to meet everyone. They were gathered near the bow, and as you joined them, Captain Hongjoong gave you a quick nod.

“Ready?” he asked, a little uncertain seeing the queasiness on your face.

The grip on your bag tightened as you nodded, pushing down the feeling, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

With the ship anchored just out of sight, hidden strategically behind raised rocks, the nine of you and two other crewmen piled into two smaller boats, making your way to shore. Once you were safely dropped off, the crewmen paddled back. The added part to the plan was that you’d accompany Jongho, Yunho, and Mingi into the marketplace the next morning when they went for restocking, so you could pick out new clothes. The thought of wearing something that actually fit and didn’t make you look like a shapeless blob made you more excited than you’d have expected.

As soon as you reached the shore, a masked man appeared, greeting Hongjoong with a bow and a firm handshake. The two seemed familiar, as the man led your group to a small clearing where another masked figure stood holding six beautiful horses, their coats gleaming under the moonlight. He greeted Hongjoong in the same respectful manner, and soon instructed everyone to pair up for the journey.

Hongjoong and the masked man rode alone, with Yeosang riding with Jongho, Mingi with Yunho, and Wooyoung with San, you were left with Seonghwa. Despite still feeling a bit wary around him, he was nothing but a gentleman. He helped you onto a beautiful black mare with deep, gentle eyes, his movements smooth and elegant, like a prince, as he climbed up in front of you. Your bags were strapped to the side for balance. You had never even sat on a horse before, you wondered how long it would take for you to fall off. Seonghwa glanced back at you, his expression a mystery as usual.

“You can hold on to me,” Seonghwa said in his low voice, breaking you out of your thoughts. “I don’t bite, and we’ll be going quite fast.”

You hesitated, lightly gripping the back of his coat, but he let out an exasperated sigh, reaching back to take your hands and wrap them firmly around his waist. “Keep it tight,” he instructed, with a small lilt in his tone. “We don’t want you falling off just yet.”

“Okay,” you squeaked, feeling your cheeks heat up as you adjusted your grip. Thank goodness he couldn’t see the flush that spread across your face.

With everyone ready, the horses set off, following the masked man and Hongjoong in the lead. The terrain was rough, the path dimly lit only by the full moon above, but the horses and riders moved with ease, as though this was a journey they’d made countless times before. You marvelled at how the men manoeuvred the horses, their motions so natural and in sync with the horses as they navigated the changing landscape at a fast pace.

Although to you, in the dark, every sudden shift or dip felt like you might topple off, and without thinking, you tightened your arms around Seonghwa, pressing yourself closer to his back. You were sure he could feel the thudding of your heartbeat, but he said nothing, simply adjusting the reins and shifting slightly to keep you both steady.

The moonlight cast everything in a soft, silvery glow, but the wildness of the ride kept you tense, your focus on not falling rather than the view. It was only when you felt Seonghwa’s voice rumble low in his chest that you realized he was speaking to you.

“Relax,” he murmured, his tone gentler than you’d heard before. “You’re going to be fine.”

You heeded his words and calmed yourself down a little, and though you still clung tightly, you were able to look up, taking in the beauty around you. The trees loomed like shadows on either side, the air crisp with the scent of pine and earth, and the ocean now far behind, not even a scent of it in the earthy breeze. You loosened up just a little, letting the rhythm of the horse’s strides carry you as the group forged on toward their destination.

The rumbling of hooves finally gave way to silence as you and the others arrived at a farmhouse, just as the sky had begun to lighten with dawn. The sweeping farmhouse before you was surrounded by tall stone walls, with a sprawling farm and livestock area enclosed in the back, as far as your eyes could see. A hefty metal gate swung open to let you pass through on foot, and stable hands waiting close by took the horses from you, leading them toward the stables. The others retrieved their bags, and together, you walked toward the house’s intricately carved wooden doors where a man awaited you.

“Hyung!” Hongjoong called out, hurrying over to the man and engulfing him in a warm hug. You noticed his sunglasses were nowhere to be found.

“It’s been a while, you’ve grown I see” the man chuckled, patting his back. “I trust everyone’s been well?”

He looked over the group, his eyes scanning each face until they landed on you, and his brows raised. You felt yourself shrink back a little, inching behind Seonghwa.

“Who do we have here? A new face?” he asked, his voice warm yet curious.

Hongjoong nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “This is Aurora, our new navigator,” he explained as Seonghwa nudged you forward gently. “Aurora, this is my brother, Bumjoong. We’ll be staying at his place during our visit.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you greeted him with a little bow, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bumjoong broke into a reassuring smile. “No need for formalities. If you’re with these guys, you’re family too.”

You could only offer him a queasy smile at that statement.

“Let’s get inside, then, and get everyone settled,” Bumjoong said, leading the way through the doors.

Inside, the farmhouse was even more expansive than you’d expected, with high ceilings, rustic beams, and warm wooden furniture filling the space. You let out a soft “whoa” as you took in the surroundings, noticing that the others seemed more at ease, now that you were inside. At the entryway, you were greeted by an older man dressed in a crisp suit, whom Bumjoong introduced as Mr. Shin.

“You can all leave your things here, and Mr. Shin will make sure your belongings are taken to the rooms while we have breakfast, I’m sure you’re all famished,” Bumjoong explained before stepping away, “I’ll be in the dining hall,”

The group immediately launched into a discussion about rooming arrangements, seemingly forgetting your presence until you cleared your throat softly.

“Um…where will I go?” you asked, turning all eight heads towards youself.

“Oh, right. We need to make room for you too,” Hongjoong said sheepishly. “There are four guest rooms, three of which sleep two people, and one that fits three. Normally, that one has an extra space, but since we’re all here, it looks like you’ll have to share.”

“Dibs on the three-person room!” Wooyoung called, raising his hand. “Me, San, and Yeosang will take that one.”

“I’ll pair with Jongho,” Mingi added.

You tried to keep the disappointment from your face, realizing that no one had suggested rooming with you yet. Hongjoong, however, quickly took charge.

“Alright, Seonghwa and I will take our usual room, which leaves Yunho with Aurora. Is that alright with you?” he asked, glancing your way.

You nodded, glancing back to find Yunho already looking at you with a small smile. You hadn’t talked to Yunho, since yesterday morning, you had been subconsciously avoiding him to make sure he wouldn’t bring up what had happened before. You hoped this arrangement wouldn’t cause any more awkward situations.

“Alright, then,” Hongjoong confirmed, turning to Mr. Shin. “Please take our things to the rooms.”

The old man bowed, collecting everyone’s bags with practiced efficiency and surprising strength.

“Now, let’s get some food,” Hongjoong declared, leading the way to the dining hall.

The dining room was as homely as the rest of the house, the wooden table set with a mouth watering spread of breakfast foods—freshly baked bread, variations of different egg and meat dishes, fruit, and steaming pots of tea and coffee. You found yourself seated next to Yunho, your stomach rumbling at the sight of the food.

Bumjoong signalled for the kitchen aids to start serving, soon enough your plate was piled spectacularly high with food and you dug in. With a life like this, you wondered why Hongjoong lived like a pirate. As you ate, you found the exhaustion leaving your body, you even joined in the laughter as the guys shared stories of the sea with Bumjoong. Yunho, of course, paid close attention to you, making sure you had enough on your plate and felt comfortable in the loud atmosphere.

“You look less anxious,” he remarked quietly, offering you a warm smile.

You nodded, “It must have been the exhaustion keeping me on edge,” you replied, savoring a bite of fluffy omurice. “It’s nice to be off the ship for a bit.”

After a satisfying meal, Bumjoong stood, clapping his hands. “Alright, make yourselves at home. We’ll be heading into town soon enough, but in the meantime, rest up or explore. It’s not every day you’re grounded here, after all.” Yunho had mixed feelings about that, he felt the most at home on the ship, even after all this time.

With everyone scattering to their rooms or settling into the common room, you decided it was the perfect time to explore. The farmhouse was certainly alluring—spacious, well-built, and grand without feeling gaudy. Starting on the ground floor, you roamed through the expansive kitchen, the dining hall, and a cosy common room where some of the crew lounged, chatting lazily. On the first floor, you discovered three bedrooms—one master bedroom with an attached bath and two double bedrooms with a shared bathroom in the hall. Above that, the second floor housed two more bedrooms—a triple-sharing room and a double-sharing, along with a library and a study. You were struck by how thoughtfully designed the house was, and you hoped you’d get a chance to explore the never ending outdoor grounds someday, too.

Finally, you got to having the shower you’d been craving since you set foot on land. You gathered up your toiletries and a fresh set of towels provided by the staff, making your way to the shared bathroom on the first floor. It was a quaintly decorated space, with a large, inviting bathtub at the centre, surrounded by shelves lined with a variety of soaps, shampoos, and bath salts. Just how rich were these people, you weren’t used to having such luxuries available so easily and for free at that.

After a bit of fumbling with the ornate taps, you managed to draw yourself a warm, fragrant bubble bath. Slipping out of your travel-worn clothes, you eased into the bath, letting the warm water melt away every ache. You washed your hair, scrubbed away the grime, and felt yourself sinking deeper into the pillow of relaxation Finally, you stepped out, drying off and wrapping a towel around yourself, with a second one around your damp hair. As you scanned the bathroom for your fresh clothes, your stomach dropped—you’d left them in your room.

Sighing at your own mistake, you edged into the hallway, hoping the coast would be clear for the quick dash to your room. Just as you stepped out, though, you collided into something—someone, to be exact. You looked up to find Seonghwa standing before you, his eyes widening at the sight. His shirt was open, his perfectly sculpted torso right in front of you, and he looked like he’d just been on his way to shower himself. The air was thick as you fought the urge to let your gaze leave his eyes and travel further away.

Before either of you could speak, Seonghwa shrugged off his shirt and draped it over your shoulders, quickly fastening the top button by your collarbone. “Be careful,” he murmured offhandedly, his voice low. “You can’t be wandering around in just a towel.”

Your face flushed at his words, and you mumbled a soft “thank you,” locking your gaze on the floor. Seonghwa gave a small nod and slipped past you into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. You made your way quickly back to your room, glad that no one else caught you, and that Yunho hadn’t returned to the room yet.

Inside the bathroom, Seonghwa let out a shaky breath as he leaned against the sink, trying to compose himself. The moment was replaying in his mind—the way you’d looked so innocently at him, with your big eyes and the teasing drops of water trailing down your neck and disappearing beneath the towel you clutched to your chest. He felt his own face heat up as he tried to push the memory aside.

Taking a cold shower was probably a good idea right about now, Seonghwa thought, letting the icy water shock him out of his flustered state. Meanwhile, you were in your room, practically jumping into your clothes. Embarrassed was an understatement; you couldn’t believe how nonchalantly Seonghwa had reacted, as if seeing you in a towel was just another everyday event for him. Now, not only was being around Yunho already a little awkward, but now you could add Seonghwa to that list of complications.

You stared at yourself down in the mirror, forcing the flush on your cheeks to fade. “Just act normal,” you whispered to yourself, giving your reflection a firm nod. Fixing your appearance one last time, you headed downstairs and took a seat beside Yeosang, who gave you a small smile. You made some polite small talk, asking about his day and listening as he spoke about the journey and how glad he was to be on land again. His voice was gentle, helping you pass the time while the rest of the group assembled.

Once everyone was settled, Bumjoong addressed the room. "Hongjoong’s already updated me on the situation and the plan," he began, hands clasped together. "Each group will have an assigned servant to accompany them for assistance, except for San and Aurora, to avoid any additional suspicion. Now, let's go over each team’s role and objective."

Hongjoong took over, “Right, so our first team to dispatch will be Yeosang and Wooyoung.” He motioned to them. “Your job is to follow Myung Seokchul, the lawyer…our target. He’s in his early forties, lives alone since his wife passed due to an illness that swept through the southern part of the island a few years ago.”

At the mention of the disease, you noticed both Hongjoong and Bumjoong’s faces darken a little. There was clearly a history there.

After a pause, Hongjoong continued. “Apart from this basic information, we don’t have much on him, except for a distinct scar that runs from his left temple down to his chin. That’s his main identifying feature.”

Wooyoung let out a small scoff, adjusting the old ascot hat he’d donned as part of his disguise. “I can’t wait to see this guy. Sounds like a real charmer.”

Yeosang shot him an unimpressed look,“Don’t forget we’re just tailing him, Wooyoung. Let’s keep this smooth and unnoticed. The last thing we need is to get on his radar before we understand his movements.”

Wooyoung shrugged, but the glint in his eye betrayed his excitement. “Alright, alright. I’ll keep my distance—promise,” he said, smirking behind the dull brown cloth he’d drawn over the lower half of his face. “Though, I can’t say I’m not looking forward to playing the part of the humble farmer.”

Yeosang sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “If you get us caught, I’ll personally see to it that you’ll be the one taking care of the goats in the morning.”

“Relax, Yeosang,” Wooyoung replied, patting his shoulder with a grin. “If anything, I’m here to make you look even more convincing. You’ll thank me later.”

Hongjoong cut in, exasperated, before Yeosang could retort, “Alright, you two, enough bickering. Remember, this is a low-profile mission. Blend in, observe, and come back with any useful information.”

“Yes, Captain,” Yeosang said firmly, his gaze returning to Hongjoong. Wooyoung gave a mock salute before the two of them turned and made their way to the door.

You watched them go, Wooyoung tossing a wink over his shoulder as Yeosang tugged him along. “Wish us luck,” Wooyoung called out with a confident grin.

“Just don’t blow our cover,” San replied, rolling his eyes, but with an amused smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Alright, as for the rest of you,” Bumjoong said, nodding for Hongjoong to continue.

Hongjoong clasped his hands and directed his gaze to you and the others. “The next group to leave will be Jongho, Yunho, Mingi, San, and Aurora. You’ll head to the marketplace. Once there, we’ll split into two smaller teams: Jongho and Mingi will handle restocking the ship’s supplies, while Yunho and San will take Aurora to pick up whatever essentials she might need for her time onboard. Regroup here by 3 PM. After that, we’ll proceed as planned.”

Everyone nodded, gathering things they would need. Hongjoong and Seonghwa were to remain at the farmhouse to prepare a room for their ‘guest’ in the evening. But before that, they had something else to confirm.

Once the rest of you departed, Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Bumjoong moved back into the library, the heavy wooden door creaking shut behind them. Bumjoong turned to Hongjoong, looking grave. “Are you sure it’s her?” he asked, voice teetering on uncertainty.

“That’s what we need to find out,” Hongjoong replied. He paused before adding, “Are you still in contact with Mr. Hwang from the public library?”

“Well of course,” Bumjoong replied thoughtfully. “He helped us quite a bit back in the day. He retired a few years back, though. You think he might know something?”

“He was part of the Guardian’s Guild here for a while, till their ideas changed. He might know what she looks like. We need to meet with him urgently,” Seonghwa said.

Bumjoong nodded, reaching for a bell to call for Jihye. “He lives nearby. I’ll send Jihye with you—she’s close with his granddaughter.”

A few minutes later, Jihye entered, she was a stable hand at the estate. After Bumjoong explained the situation, she nodded, an three set off toward Mr. Hwang’s humble cottage without delay.

Mr. Hwang’s “cottage” was anything but humble. After a ten-minute walk from the farmhouse, they stood before a grand, albeit slightly worn, manor nestled amidst tall trees and overgrown thickets. Though smaller than the Kim estate, it was still impressively lavish, with ivy trailing up the stone walls and stained-glass windows that gleamed in the sunlight.

Jihye stepped up to the door, rapping her hand against the wood. A servant opened it and regarded the trio with mild curiosity before Jihye explained their visit and the urgent need to speak with Mr. Hwang. The door closed again for a bit, then servant came back, ushering them inside and leading them down a corridor toward Mr. Hwang’s study.

The man himself sat behind a large, carved desk, spectacles perched on his nose as he pored over a large leather-bound volume. He looked up as they entered, a small, welcoming smile gracing his face.

“Hongjoong, Seonghwa, it’s been a long time,” he said warmly, setting his book aside. “What brings you here today?”

Hongjoong wasted no time. “Mr. Hwang, we need your expertise on a very particular matter.”

The old man leaned forward, his expression shifting to one of interest. “Of course, son. How can I assist?”

Hongjoong drew in a breath, and removed his sunglasses, looking at the old man with intensity. “We’re searching for someone—a young woman, we believe she’s connected to something the Guardians were once involved in, if you’re catching my drift.”

Mr. Hwang’s eyes widened slightly. “You mean…the World Z Project?”

Hongjoong nodded. “So you’re aware of what we speak of. I remember you telling us about this ‘legendary scientist’ when we were kids. She was your best friend at the facility, wasn’t she?”

A distant look clouded Mr. Hwang’s face. “Yes, Lee Junhee. She endured so much, only to be cast aside after her greatest discovery. The Guardians discarded her once they had what they wanted. They might have even killed her, but we managed to escape. She passed away a few years back… But if you’re saying it’s her you’ve found—”

Seonghwa shook his head. “Not her. We heard about her passing from Haneul noona. Her Guild has been keeping tabs on the older Guardians. We think it’s her granddaughter—a young woman around our age. We brought her aboard as a navigator, and while she hasn’t shown any unusual abilities yet, there may be something neither she nor we fully understand. Her name’s Aurora.”

Mr. Hwang’s eyes widened in realization. “Little Aurora… Of course! How could I forget?” He rose shakily, leaning on his cane as he shuffled toward a nearby shelf, pulling out a dusty leather book. He flipped through it carefully and retrieved an old photograph, handing it to Hongjoong and Seonghwa. “This picture… Junhee once told me her granddaughter was exceptionally bright beyond her years, though quite timid. It’s a few years old, but she should still be recognizable.”

Hongjoong took the photograph, examining the face of a young Aurora, likely about twenty. She looked younger, happier, her features still touched with traces of adolescence, but it was undoubtedly her.

“Hwa,” Hongjoong whispered, elation laced his voice, “it’s her. We’ve found her. We finally have the link to that damn map.”

Seonghwa’s tense expression softened, furrowed brows relaxing. They had a real lead after six years of relentless searching.

Mr. Hwang looked at them both, he wasn’t entirely sure, what all this was for, but he still prayed in their support. “I hope she is everything Junhee hoped she would be… You have my best wishes. Go, and be careful.”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa rose, bowing deeply. “Thank you, Mr. Hwang. We can’t express how grateful we are for your help,” Hongjoong said.

The older man simply nodded, waving them off with a knowing look in his eyes as they turned to leave. They exited the manor with Jihye, who led them back to the Kim estate. Once back, they reconvened with Bumjoong, who listened intently as they shared everything Mr. Hwang had told them, fixing the pieces for the final puzzle. But before they could settle down completely, a loud, frantic voice echoed through the hall.

San burst into the house, his face pale and drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as he stumbled forward. “Aurora, she’s gone!” he shouted, falling to his knees, utterly defeated. “The others are still searching, but… we can’t find her.” His voice cracked with panic and frustration.

“What?” Hongjoong’s eyes widened, and he shot up from his seat. He quickly approached San, Seonghwa close behind. “San, what happened?”

San looked up, his face stricken. “We were at the dressmaker’s. She went behind some curtains to have her measurements taken, and then she was just… gone. I was right there, and Yunho was with us too, I swear!” His voice wavered as he struggled to hold back tears.

Seonghwa placed a steadying hand on his shoulder, his voice low and calm. “Take a deep breath, San. We’ll find her; we have to.”

Hongjoong’s expression hardened, the calm before a storm brewing in his gaze. “San, take us to the others. Lead the way.”

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

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