#unproofed

[ygodmyy20]

Some days it’s just too big. His emotions are too large, the world thick with spoiled milk, and his dreams plagued by fire and iron.

He hates those days.

Those cursed days.

The ones he dreads.

But on those days, he can find a reprieve from it all. He can curl close and let his powers dance around him in purple and blue oscillations. He can be covered in sunshine and lemons and taste sweet citrus. He can press close and crave and not be denied but welcomed with open arms and humid breaths that remind him he is so very loved.

They can sit on the edges of the ocean, their legs dangling off the breakwall as large waves crash into shore, their barriers keeping them dry and warm. He can lean down, tickle sides until his partner yells in delight, darting out to sea, floating in the air with a grin on his face, blond hair wild around his ocean eyes. He can let himself get lost in the chase, yellow and purple darting through twilight skies, leaving a trail of bright flowers in their wake, electricity zapping as they climb higher and higher until the sun rays hit them once more, blond hair blooming into orange, like the center of a star - A gleaming halo.

His partner, his dear sweet Teruki, looks at him with a grin so wide his eyes are squinting. Laughing so loud and boisterous, it causes his powers to spin around them in electric waves.

The laughter is infectious, but he can’t help but sob, the joy overwhelming him. Immediately there are soft hands on his cheeks, thumbs brushing away salty liquid as a concerned face leans into his.

He shakes his head.

No no, he is so happy. So, so incredibly happy.

A smile, highlighted crimson by the setting sun, stark in contrast to the dim clouds as his love leans down, their lips meet, and the sky explodes into a nebula.

[doctorbrown]

DOCTOBER '24 ⸺ 「 6 / 31 * PROFESSOR 」

1942

He barely got the chance to make himself a cup of coffee before he was swarmed by his colleagues, all hungry for even a snippet of information that had to do with the newest rumour making its way around the campus grounds. Even those of his fellow professors who thought him damaged goods, an obsessive nutcase with more than a few screws loose, turned up at his doorstep, their intentions written clean across their faces.

Emmett had managed to shoo most of them away with a few frantic flicks of his wrist, save for Dr. Warren, an elder professor in his mid-thirties with dark brown hair streaked with a few strands of grey. Dr. Warren had actually liked him or at the very least tolerated him–some days Emmett wasn’t sure which it was–and his passionate ramblings without jumping to the near immediate conclusion of many of the other faculty that, despite his impressive academic career on paper, he was teetering along the edge of insanity. 

For what it was worth, Emmett rather liked the older man too, impressed by his clever sense of wit and more than a few of his papers he’d published over the years.

“We heard through the grapevine that a certain somebody visited you yesterday,” Dr. Warren says, his bright green eyes twinkling as he lifts his own mug of coffee to his lips.

“The grapevine? A certain somebody?” Emmett quirks a brow, trying to keep the big secret from writing itself across his face by following suit. He grimaces the moment the scalding coffee burns his tongue and Dr. Warren smirks, catching his younger colleague red-handed. 

“Don’t play coy, Emmett. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

“So what if he was here? He’s associated with Caltech all the same; he’s still a professor here, even if he only stays for a single term. Him stopping by the campus isn’t unheard of.”

Dr. Warren stares long and hard at him. “It is when it isn’t his term and where he’s supposed to be is almost four hundred miles away. If you’re going to try and lie, at least do better.”

“Who told you?”

“Anderson.”

Emmett blinks. “Anderson? How’d he know?”

“Right place, right time, apparently. I caught up with Anderson for lunch and he shared that Oppenheimer had come, asking about you. I thought it was going to be about—”

Emmett clears his throat aggressively and waves his hand. “That was one time and it was an accident, you know that. It was repaired.”  

“Right. Anyway, that wasn’t it. He just asked where he could find you, said he had something he wanted to talk to you about, then left.” 

Well, that confirmed his suspicions regarding the undue attention he’d suddenly been given this morning. 

“So Anderson told the rest of the physics department, is that it?” 

Dr. Warren shrugs as Emmett huffs into his coffee. “That, or they caught a glimpse of him themselves. And with that large soldier following him around, there are only a few realistic guesses as to why he could be looking for you.” 

He starts counting the reasons off with his fingers. One. “Either you’ve been suspected of treason and they’re here to investigate you, or”—two—“it has something to do with that big project they’ve been keeping under wraps. Don’t give me that look. You know the one; you’ve been talking about it since word first got out about it.”

“Show me one of our colleagues that hasn’t been talking about it! I’m not saying the research we’ve all been doing for the war effort isn’t important, but comparatively—” 

“It’s not top-secret military-backed research,” Warren finishes, throwing a knowing look Emmett’s way. “So he asked you to be part of it.”

Emmett nods enthusiastically. “Oppenheimer made me an offer probably knowing I’d accept. But I won’t know for certain whether or not I’ve been approved for a few weeks. Background checks, investigations—they aren’t leaving anything to chance.”  

“Any skeletons in your closet you’re afraid they’ll dig up?”

“No. I have nothing to hide. If there’s something they want to find, they’ll find it, and there will be nothing I can do about that.” That would be a worst-case scenario; a devastating blow when he’s so close he can practically grasp it in his hands. “It’s the being stuck in limbo while they dig through my records that will be unbearable. How am I supposed to focus on anything else knowing what’s on the horizon?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. Did you tell your students?”

“If you’ve all heard the news, I suspect word has already reached my students.” Emmett checks his wristwatch and pulls his lips into a thin line. “But I suppose I’ll find out for sure in twelve minutes.”

“And don’t forget to talk to Millikan!” Dr. Warren shouts after Emmett’s retreating form.

“I won’t. But I have a sneaking suspicion that if Anderson knew, Millikan was already well-aware of this visit.”

After all, Emmett wasn’t the first scientist to be poached from the university–several of his colleagues had already put in for their temporary leave, had their classes scheduled to be dissolved and their students merged into other courses of their choosing. 

As he walks down the corridor to the lecture hall, sipping on his coffee, Emmett already begins to imagine the conversation he’ll have to have with Robert Millikan and the knowing, unsurprised expression he expects to find on his face when he walks through the door to his office.

[queenlucythevaliant]

Here's what I'll say regarding choice of worship music (and I'm not 100% sure where I'm going with this, so bear with me): I think it's very easy to get burned out on specific kinds of worship, no matter what they are. And that kind of burn-out is hard.

I grew up at a church that did 95% CCM for worship, and after a while it either (a) exhausted me emotionally or (b) bored me. By the time I hit high school, I really really struggled with corporate worship because it felt as though I wasn't responding as I was supposed to. Getting to sing mostly hymns at the church I attended at college was a huge breath of fresh air, and it helped me immensely in terms of re-orienting my heart towards Christ-centered worship (as opposed to me-centered worship.) For the first time in my life, I found myself listening to Christian music on my own time during the week.

I watched the recent Jesus Revolution movie with mom over the summer. Her family started attending Calvary Chapel (then-nascent hippy church in Orange County) midway through her childhood, and she got really excited talking about the difference between the hymns she remembered from early elementary school ("we sang the whole hymnal rather than selecting for the really good ones like they do at your church") and the much more dynamic music that came out of Maranatha and other early "contemporary" Christian groups. She actually played me a whole bunch of the songs she grew up with the next morning. They sounded horrifically cheesy to me, but she got real joy out of it and even ended up texting a few songs to my aunt.

And yet, my mom has remarked a whole bunch of times to me that she really can't stand current CCM; that she desperately misses singing the old hymns. I look at myself and my own experience and I can totally see myself coming back to some of the CCM songs I grew up with and encountering Christ through them all new again. As recently as last month, I had a really beautiful experience driving back from a concert crazy late at night with my sister and listening to some of the old Chris Tomlin and Hillsong stuff that I hadn't heard in a while. It brought me back to a sense of incredible comfort and safety nestled up against God like a baby chick. Do I want to worship with that sort of music every week right now? No, definitely not. But it has its place.

Obviously worship transcends something as incidental as music genre. It's an expression of why we were created: glorifying God and enjoying him forever --- and yet, because of the fall, it's really easy to get burned out on specific expressions of worship. I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing so much as just a symptom of the fall. I also think that people who are really burned out on a particular kind of worship can be really, really obnoxious about it. I know I was for a while, and I still definitely have my hangups with CCM.

But like- I don't think it's so much about judgement or superiority towards the kind of worship music that you're burnt out on as it is just the overwhelming sense that that kind of worship music felt exhausting and this kind of music actually feels like I'm able to worship again. I know when I started singing hymns at church, it just felt like I'd found the Rosetta Stone. I was suddenly so much less in my own head on Sunday mornings and oh my goodness singing to God was a joy again and I can't remember but I don't think it's ever been a joy like this before has it?? It was almost like my head was spinning with some great new revelation and when I was obnoxious about it it was mostly a manifestation of my being like Why didn't anyone ever tell me it could be like this? Why isn't everyone singing hymns? It's just so much better this way!

Mostly, it just feels like saying "don't be overly critical of how other Christians like to worship" kind of. Misses the trees for the forest, if that makes sense? Like, it's accurate to the big picture, it's absolutely a true and worthwhile thing to say. But at the same time it kind of rankles for me because it misses how it feels to be truly and deeply alienated by the kind of worship you're exposed to.

For better and for worse, worship is (I think) the spiritual discipline that engages the emotions most directly. The feeling of being in a group of people all worshipping together, and your heart just isn't responding right no matter how you try to re-focus and orient it? It's one of the loneliest feelings I know.

[ibarap]

Masterlist / [Scout] White Bear

📅 14 Dec 2023

⏰ Winter I (During Nighthead)

🔖 Yuumasu / 6 Chapters

🎭 Hiyori, Leo, Tsumugi, Adonis, Yuzuru, Jun, Subaru, Mitsuru, Nagisa

Hiyori and co. make a consolation visit at a hospital. There, they meet a young boy who has them look after his White Bear, and they make Christmas memories with it together.

Chapters:

Pure White Diary 1 Pure White Diary 2 Pure White Diary 3 Pure White Diary 4 Pure White Diary 5 Pure White Diary 6

[chenziee]

one day, I will feel confident enough in my writing to not rely on outside validation to survive

today is, sadly, not that day

[broken-faucet-of-feelings]

it’s never over (for me)

26/04/24

how do i silence

the voice in my brain

that is constantly

screaming your name?

is there an ice pack

cold enough

to soothe this

searing pain?

did i choose the

wrong dialogue and

get the bad ending

of this game?

how do make these

awful feelings

finally go

away?

i can’t accept

that life goes on and

i can’t make peace

with the past.

my tears will

never dry and

my eyes will

forever run black.

in twenty years

i’ll still believe

we could have

made it last.

but why should i

believe that when

you never

called me

back?

i may have been

a jester

but i sure

wasn’t a fool

i knew that you

were tricking me

but what you

did was cruel.

yes, i should have

learned to swim,

but you still shoved

me in the pool.

i spend each night

in detention

when you’re the one

who broke the rules.

i have a card

in my hand

that i’m too

afraid to play.

i know that it

could hurt you

and that’s a trust

i can’t betray.

i think that

you deserve it

but i still want to

get my way.

and i think

i’ll always love you,

though you’re someone

i love to hate.

[dorianbrightmusic]

i have kieran brainrot even now, so i'm posting this fanfic to get it out of my head, off my computer, and into the ether. there will be more chapters. probably soon.

it's (currently unrequited) dipplinshipping. if you've got five minutes, please take the time to give it a read :)

[thoughtsofthegirlwiththecurl]

I used to copyedit 120,000 word super dense PhD manuscripts for 8 hours a day, five days a week, and now I'm like "what do mean you want me to copyedit 1200 sentences of catalog copy??? I'm gonna die probably"

[rellasnowheenim]

i was checking the files in my usb (which i haven't touched in a long time) and holy shit? i wrote a fic with 22k words and just forgot about it?? ahaha

Problems only writers understand

Having very chaotic notes on your phone

Having secret files that you will NEVER let anyone ever see

WHAT THAT WORD THAT MEANS THAT THING????

Why cant I think of a name?

Writing 10k words in a day then never again

[rsventhesecondd]

help me, I'm ovulating!

nagi seishiro x ovulating gamer f!reader ᰔ

description . whereas you're gaming w your bf, but something feels off ! reblogs appreciated. warnings . mentions of sexual themes such as riding , doing it raw , more . Unproof-read for now , all characters used is aged up

You and Nagi feel the same way when it comes to games. You often pick playing games together rather than going out on dates — they say we should go on a double date together? oh, but valorant just released an update, no thanks! 

—

You and Nagi were playing video games together on shared bed as per usual, but somehow you seemed a bit different. 

"Mm, you okay?" nagi asks, following with you letting out a gruff as you die for the 5th time. "Yeah, this is the controls fault. " you reply, pressing the controls, " If you say so :x " he said, tone with the slightest hint of sarcasm

Sure, Nagi has seen times where you're not in the mood to play games, or when you genuinely suck— after all, he was the one that introduced you to different types of them. But today, something feels off; but he just brushed it off.

 The finaly level hits, and of course– you died after the first few minutes, leaving Nagi alone to finish it. You sigh, putting your phone down. Oh, you promised to finish this game with him, but you're ovulating, and your patience is starting to run thin. You silently swallowed as you observed at his focused expression, eyes darting from his face to his fingers as it moved in swift motion. As if you had taken an asprodisiac, you couldn't help but think on some indecent thoughts as you felt a slight fuzz all around you.

You silently crept up closer to him, slightly lifting his shirt up as you drew circles on his abdomen with your fingers, earning a 'oh?-like reaction from him, he glanced at you briefly, still focused on his game– his breathing going slightly heavy. You slowly tugged on the hem of his boxer shorts, not completely pulling it as if asking for permission. "Now? but 'm almost done.", he says breathily " 'can't wait, 'tis will be quick" you reason, before tugging off his shorts completely, taking his balls on your palm as you began to roll your tongue around his mushroom head just to tease him, then taking him in— stroking the rest of him that you couldn't take in with your free hand, earning a breathy groan from him. " hah— you're driving me insane [name] " he says, putting his phone down as he throws his head back, gripping your hair for support. You continue bobbing your head up and down as you feel him unconciously thrust his hip up your mouth with his release, causing you to gag, tasting his bitter-sweet cum. You pull away from his cock, licking your lips. 

" Can you ride me? " nagi says in a monotone. 

──────

 Oh how he loved seeing you in control, man handling him like that— swaying your hips up and slaming it down his thighs as he fondles with your breast, teething with one of your nippes, bruising it in the process.

But as much as he loves this side of you, once you hand over control even just the slightest, he can't help but take control. 

Once your positions switch, he doesn't waste any second to push in his cock in and out in a steady pace. If theres a thing that requires alot of work that he likes the most, then it's you. 

" Fuck. You're doing so s'good" he breathes out, as he draws lazy circles on your clit with his index fingers, earning a moan from you. 

"Look at me, baby" he said, removing his grip from your now bruised hip to your cheek. You arch your back and let out a moan as he fastened his pace, pulling you into a kiss. " 'ks me back" he says, moving his tongue against yours. You wish you could, but you were too focused on the knot building up inside your stomach. "Sei, 'm close!" you whimper out after pulling away.  After a few more thrusts, the two of you reached your release together. Nagi, groaning as he pulls out from you.

" 'nother round, please?" ,

he huffs " m'kay.. but you're doing all the work this time "

—

well, technically when you promised him you'd finish the game with him— you didn't specify when. :3

note . this was kinda rushed, so sorry! I had to submit a 1 page essay about why studying helps me ( it doesn't, it makes my brain into shit. )

[magpiepills]

Butterfly

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Joel Miller x f reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Neighbor Joel and his yoga girl neighbor have a little chat.

Warnings: SMUT! f masturbation, PIV, use of sex toys, reader can do yoga, blackmail? infidelity? Perv neighbor? Probably more. Unedited, unbeta’d, unproof-read. I type like that Kermit gif then post it.

A word from the author: idk friends. Here’s a bit more of what’s going on with pervert Joel and his yoga girl neighbor. I’m so grateful and happy that yall are enjoying this. There will be one more part!

Part 1, Part 2

Masterlist

The house had been quiet, with your husband picking up extra shifts and out of the house more, you found ways to occupy yourself. On a nice day, you decided a little yoga in the sun rather than your stuffy bedroom would be just what you needed.

You roll out your mat, open your app to follow along with a vinyasa flow, and close your eyes. You breathe deep, grounding breaths, melting into your stretches.

It felt good, made you feel relaxed and grounded and more in your body than in your head. It made you feel sexy to move your body, the ways you stretched. You promised yourself that this would be your new routine.

On the second day you felt a bit self conscious. You saw the shadowed silhouette in the upstairs window, your neighbor, a single man living alone, and apparently a fan of yoga.

You didn’t look at his window again. If it was a coincidence that he was looking out his window while you stretched and bent you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself. If he was watching you, you didn’t want to know that either. It made you feel nervous and giddy that your hot neighbor might be watching you bending over, spreading your legs, twisting yourself into suggestive poses. It didn’t stop you, though.

So what if he looked, right? You weren’t doing anything wrong, just exercising in your back yard. Nothing untoward or scandalous about that and Joel has never been anything but friendly and polite. If you got a small thrill along with your workout, all the better for everyone.

By the third day you were certain he was watching. He must have thought he was out of sight, down in the bottom corner of the window, but you spotted him, his graying curls, his dark stare that was glued to your every move. The window was empty when you walked the dog, when you got the newspaper from the porch, and when you walked to the mailbox, but as soon as you came out for yoga, there he was, like he knew your schedule and would wait for you.

You dripped into your leggings and added ten minutes to your workout. When you finished, you went inside and showered, taking the handheld shower head and directing the stream to wash over your throbbing clit, giving yourself an orgasm while you moaned his name and imagined him there with you. Your fingers couldn’t reach deep enough, didn’t stretch you the way you were certain that Joel would.

Later that night you’d tried again, pulling up porn with men like Joel; older, sturdy, deep voiced, confident. You edged yourself, pressing your vibrator against your clit, pushing just the tip into your clenching entrance the way you imagined him teasing you until you begged, then pulling away before you could reach your climax. You did it again and again, thinking of his chest and arms and the sweat that darkened his shirt when you’d see him mowing his lawn, and then crying his name into your pillow when you finally let yourself come.

It still wasn’t enough. There was no beard scratching your chest, your neck, your thighs. No hands on your hips, no lips on yours. Instead of satisfying you, it just made you needier, and that need led you to bolder and bolder deeds.

It was the dirtiest secret. Every afternoon you pretended not to see him while you positioned yourself for maximum exposure. Your ass toward his window, back arched, wiggling just so. You pushed your chest forward, nipples hard against the tight Lycra of your thin top.

You carried on, abandoning the illusion of good form to try to tease your voyeur, then went inside and imagined what he’d say when you rode him, or wondered what his shirt smelled like while you clenched around your own inadequate fingers. You considered standing outside and turning on the garden hose, putting on a little wet tshirt contest with you as the sole participant and Joel the lone audience member and judge under the very innocent and reasonable explanation that it was summer in Texas and you needed to cool off.

By day five you were masturbating before and after yoga. You were so amped up every time you spied him

In his spot you thought you might be able to come from just thinking about him. You fucked your husband before he left with your eyes shut tight so you could pretend he was your neighbor.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asked, beaming at you as he lay on the bed, having just been used as an unwitting prop in your sick fantasy. Maybe you’d feel guilty later. For now, you’d just feel cum leaking out of you while you held your knees wide open on your yoga mat and imagined it was Joel’s and that he was watching it trickle from your pussy before scooping it up with two big fingers and pushing it back inside.

If you’ve gone off the deep end you don’t care. Inside of a week you’d turned from friendly neighbor with a harmless crush to shameless trollop whose only thoughts came directly from her pussy. You'd figure out the implications and consequences later.

On day six you pulled out all the stops. You moved slowly and deliberately, making up your own routine of the most suggestive poses you knew. As you modified a butterfly stretch to lift your tits, you found Joel through your eyelashes and you would swear he had licked his lips. It broke something in you.

You feigned the heat was worse than it was, made a show of modesty, checking that you were otherwise alone, and stripped down.

The sunshine and the light breeze felt so good against your bare skin. You explored your body, running your hands over your hips and thighs and belly. You were sticky with sweat, and you felt prickly with all your pent up longing.

You skated your fingertips over your stiff nipples and down to your pulsing, needy cunt. If he was going to watch, you might as well give him something to remember. Maybe he would feel even a fraction of the fiery, desperate frustration you had felt.

You didn’t have a plan. None of this was planned. You slid your middle finger over your folds and spread your wetness over your clit and around your lips, feeling it cool slightly on your skin. You were just playing there, teasing yourself without serious intention, you decided you’d just do what felt good for a while, let Joel have a good long look, then go back in.

You knew he was there. You saw his shadowed silhouette. You hoped he liked what he saw, hoped he was touching himself, hoped he was imagining you on your knees for him. You edged yourself twice, careful not to make a sound above a heavy breath. You stroked your wet pussy, blinked your eyes as you breathed deeply, staving off your release, and let your eyes find his window, empty.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you’d let your pathetic, horny housewife delusions get the better of you and maybe you’ve just humiliated yourself.

Immediately you thought of your husband, your other neighbors, your friends, the rumors that would surely spread about the whore of Rancher Street. Panic and regret gripped you so hard you could scarcely breathe.

And then you heard it.

A groan, deep and stifled from the other side of the fence.

Play it cool, you tell yourself. You wrap a handy beach towel around yourself and put on a mask of curiosity and concern when you peek over the fence and find Joel slumped in the dirt. His cheeks are flushed, his cock is out, and he looks exactly like you’ve been feeling.

“Joel, what’s going on? What happened?” You ask, wide-eyed.

He stammers and hurries to cover his body, trying to minimize his embarrassment and the evidence of what he had just done.

“It’s not- it’s not what it looks like,” he says, “I’m just, uh, I’m sorry I just…”

“Just what?” you coo and drop to your knees to peek at him through the fence, “were you watching me, Joel?” You tsk, but flutter your eyelashes, watching with bubbling delight as he flounders, shaking his head, unable to come up with an explanation for why he’s on the ground next to a wide gap in the fence slats with cum on his jeans.

“I didn’t know you were a peeping Tom, Joel.”

It angers him, you calling him a peeping Tom. He stands quickly, then, turning to hastily zip back into his jeans, before stepping close to the fence and peering down at you.

“And I didn’t know you were an exhibitionist who was going to strip naked and touch herself right out in the open where anyone could see!” His voice is deep and hushed, but with a heat that excites you.

“You’re out here every day as soon as your husband leaves just begging for attention. Don’t act innocent now that you got it.”

“Only one watching was you, Joel. You had a front row seat, didn’t you?” you look up at him sweetly, putting both palms against the fence right about where his hips are on the other side.

Joel makes a low, rumbling sound and looks down, gripping the fence tightly. If he were a younger man he’d be hard again at the sight of you on your knees in front of him, fence or not.

“What about your husband? Does Marcus know you’re out here puttin’ on shows?”

You stand slowly and lift up onto your tiptoes, holding onto the fence between Joel’s wide, rough hands, leaving just inches between your faces.

“All he knows is how much hornier I’ve been this week. I had to ride him twice this morning,” you confess, looking right into your neighbor’s dark, searching eyes.

Joel nods softly, “But ya still had to come out here and act up, huh? Ain’t gettin enough?”

You hum in agreement, “you liked watching. Saw you every day.”

Joel hums back, eyes heavy lidded and dark.

“Well, what are we going to do about this?” he asks, and you take a step away from the fence, adjusting your towel.

“I don’t know, Joel. I think we have a problem. Marcus won’t be too happy if he finds out you’ve been prowling around. All I wanted to do was a little yoga in my yard. Maybe you’d better come over and figure out how to explain this.”

You don’t wait for Joel to agree or argue before turning to go back inside, dropping the towel that covered you and folding it over your arm, hips swaying tantalizing as Joel watches you disappear in your house.

[ukeshik]

Armin Arlert x fem.reader

TW: 18+ content, first experience(for both), loud sex, light femdom (in beginning), handjob, cumshot, kunilingus, very sweet, soft and gentle, SOOOOO comfort

unproofed

"Oh my God.... Ah... this is.... Mmm, ha...." from his barely parted lips, these moans came out, so sweet, so pleasant and affectionate. His high-pitched voice just went through your body and stayed there, making you already squeeze your legs from the excitement you were starting to feel at that moment. You didn't understand how a person's voice could be like that, how sounds could flow through the air, envelop you, sink into your ears, making you shiver through your whole body. That's exactly what Armin's moans were like. Sweet as wild flower honey, which stretches down in a trickle, folding in smooth steps.

Guess you just ran out of patience. You are tired of this cute boy looking too beautiful and sexy, and absolutely denies it, which is why you can't get any more pleasure from him than hugs and kisses. Although you're sure that he could use it all the time and fuck the whole city if he wanted, just by looking at some girl with his big clear eyes and winking after her.

You just liked boys who cum. Especially thin, light-skinned boys who quietly (although it seemed to you, being in an empty room in which there were no other sounds, that he was doing it insanely loudly) moan under your hands, their cock twitches from their own excitement, and the head beats against a flat stomach, on which his muscles are so beautifully manifested, the moment you let go of their length, leaving them just twitching.

You and he didn't have any experience before. Apart from jerking off in the middle of the night when both were thinking about each other. But it was enough for you just to see Armin with a morning boner once to clearly decide that you fucking want this guy. Even though he was not the tallest, not the strongest build (although his body definitely had muscles, the military department definitely worked on his body), Arlert still seemed very hot to you. Too much. And what you saw that morning made you almost ache with desire.

So now you were sitting in a chair across from Armin, sitting on the edge of his bed, clutching the blankets with your palms while you tightly squeezed his throbbing cock. He squeezed his eyes shut and his cheeks burned red because he still couldn't come to terms with his nakedness.

His brown trousers and boxers were pulled down to his ankles, and a white short-sleeve shirt was unbuttoned and open, which hung on his elbows because he did not have the strength to take it off completely, and it was the only thing that somehow covered him.

You never thought that you would feel so calm, so open during your first time, and even more so to be in charge of this process. But when you met a partner like Armin, you realized that you would definitely dominate. You had enough confidence to make this boy moan with pleasure and cum.

So in the beginning, when you were just sitting on his bed and he kissed you, lightly touching you with his lips, gently holding your head in his hands, stroking your soft cheeks with his thumbs, and then you suggested... doing something more serious. And then you slowly moved your lips from his lips to his cheek, down to the sharp line of his jaw, smoothly flowing to his neck, gently kissed the trembling adam's apple. "Would you like me to... well, we... something more intimate." at the moment, you were a little lost and didn't know what to say. You wanted to get permission from Armin first, and only then act, because if he's not ready for this yet, you definitely didn't want to put pressure on him. "No, I... I absolutely don't mind, sweet, I've always wanted it, and you're amazing, and I always want you, I mean, I... only if you want to, but you might be disappointed, and I'm afraid of that, and..." Arlert rattled off all this quickly, looking away from you, clearly not expecting you to immediately start unbuttoning his shirt and talking about how handsome and amazing he is.

He involuntarily tried to squeeze his legs when you began to slowly and carefully take off his pants and gray boxers, but your knees between them prevented this. Armin was burning all over, his skin was insanely hot, and his face was red: his cheeks, nose, and ears were on fire. "Sweet, you don't have to...." cover your face when his erect, damn hard cock is in the air and in your sight. He wanted to just pull his pants back on and run away, or just cover his aroused organ with his hands, but at the same time... he wanted it so much. "Armin. The sun." you began to speak softly, slightly rising from the chair on which you were sitting so that your face was in front of him, to make it seem as if you did not see his trembling cock, but only looked into his eyes. "You're amazing. You look absolutely gorgeous. You have nothing to be shy about, you look very beautiful, just incredible."

Now you squeezed his length harder and moved your hand faster up and down, immediately seeing this reaction: how his mouth opened, how his blond eyelashes fluttered, and the pelvic muscles tensed even more. "Sweet, I can't... o my gosh, ah..." Armin couldn't speak clearly, he was constantly breaking down into moans and heavy breaths of air. "it's too... too good..."

He was so damn sensitive. Too much. When you just touched his bulge in his pants, Armin had already jumped on the spot. His nerve endings couldn't handle it because no one had touched him in such places before. Although, he had almost the same reaction to your every touch. The way you ran your hand over his abs after you unbuttoned his shirt, the way you played with the skin above the edge of his boxers, causing his hips to tremble in a spasm.

And you definitely didn't expect Arlert to be so responsive. He absolutely couldn't hold back his moans, because for all the time that you were playing with his cock, he didn't stop talking for a second. You thought that Armin would be as silent and not involved in the process as possible, but... he exceeded all his expectations.

"It seems to me... mmmm, ah... if you continue the same way, I will finish soon..." Armin chirped softly, in his high voice, opening his eyes for a second, but as soon as he saw you running your hand over his slippery cock, collecting from above the head what had managed to flow out of him, when he saw your face in front of him, and with what a soft smile and gentle eyes you looked at him, he immediately closed his eyes back, letting out another moan, this time much louder.

When you heard his words, you slowed down and began to move your hand again in very slow movements, going down to his balls for a long time, and back up to the tip, running your thumb along the urethra. Damn, he had such a beautiful dick. Not huge, absolutely normal, good size, slightly curved, with a bright pink head that you wanted to try to lick, see how this boy would react to it, how he would cover his face with his long fingers and moan again in his sweet voice.

«Sweet, it’s… oh, you…” Armin really couldn't connect two words. He was really just basking in the pleasure that you gave him. When you saw this, you accelerated again and thought that you could already let him finish. You've already tormented him with your gentle soft hands long enough to make him suffer even more. Armin was already a great guy for holding out for so long, because you thought he would come much sooner. Armin was already a great guy for holding out for so long, because you thought he would cum much sooner. Probably because according to your ideas, if he does something similar to you, you will cum in less than ten minutes. «love, you… ah….!”

Your hand movements became much tougher and faster, and Armin almost fell back onto the sheets, unable to cope with it. You wanted to see this: how he cums, how his mouth opens in a final moan, and his hot sperm sprays from the tip of his cock, staining his stomach and chest, going down from the tip over your fingers.

"ahhh, it's too good, toogoodforme, I'm coming soon, ah, there are napkins on the table..." Armin muttered quickly, whose thighs were shaking from the imminent orgasm. Damn it, this boy was even thinking about you at such a moment, that suddenly it would be unpleasant for you to feel his discharge in this form.

You looked at those napkins and, continuing to jerk off his hard smooth cock, reached for the napkins with one hand, solely in order to wipe his body later so that he would definitely feel comfortable. You definitely weren't going to let him cum on a napkin. You wanted to see it in all its glory. You wanted Armin to see it for himself and understand that there is nothing wrong with it, and that he just has to enjoy the moment and feel his sexuality and beauty.

«I’m..I'm cumming, sweet, take a napkin... oh, my God!" accelerating to the maximum pace, you even grabbed the edge of the table standing next to you on the side, making final movements, after which Armin's muscles shook, and these high, such sweet loud guttural moans escaped from your chest, from which you yourself almost cum.

Arlert was surprised when he realized that you didn't move to take something in order to collect his secretions, and he wanted to do it on his own, but he couldn't do anything anymore, because the orgasm hit him so abruptly and so hard that his arms just gave way and he fell on his back. From the tip of his cock, his white, warm sperm flew out in a strong stream, staining his lower abdomen, flowing into his navel, reaching almost to his chest. Now he absolutely couldn't hold back, forgetting that the neighbors could hear him.

When the main wave of his orgasm passed, his cum began to flow down your cock and down your arm. For the first time, you felt the warmth of sperm, as a thick liquid envelops your fingers. When Armin calmed down more or less, his voice subsided, and his cock stopped spewing secretions, you let go of your hand from his cock, and just looked at your boyfriend for a few seconds. He was breathing very heavily, his chest heaving with each deep breath that his sharp ribs began to show under the skin. His eyes were still closed, and his mouth was wide open, frozen in a silent moan.

«sweet, oh my god… ah…. It was… gosh, it was so good... it's so amazing, babe, you did it so good...” Armin muttered softly, trying to recover from this. It was definitely his best and strongest orgasm of his entire life.

"I know, honey. You did a very good job too. You were very good, honey." you said softly as his cum dripped from your fingers onto his sheet. It was the first time you made a boy cum. And for the first time, when you saw cum live. And you wanted to try it. You knew about what it was like approximately, but…

 Without warning, you bent down and just licked the hot red tip of his cock, collecting all the juices that remained and the tops. You felt this unusual taste, felt the warmth of his flesh. You felt what kind of skin is on the cock, what kind of taste and temperature it is, how smooth and pliable it is.

«sweet…? Are you.. oh gosh-“ at first, Armin didn't understand what was going on with his cock, because it definitely wasn't your gentle fingers, but something else, softer, hotter and wet.... "You don't have to...! Ah, you don't have to do this if you don't want to, babe, you..." a little panic seized him, but it was too good for him to say anything else. It's unlikely he'll be able to come after that, but just feeling your tongue on him was already something divine.

When you let go of his cock from your hands and mouth, you straightened up, and while Armin was recovering, you just looked at him. It seemed to you that this was the best view in the world that you could see. How his discharge glitters in the light from the lamp on the table, the result of his pleasure, how it looks on his toned muscles, how his cock fell exhausted on his stomach....

"Oh God, I'm sorry, it's... such a mess, didn't mean to..." Armin began to mutter softly when he finally opened his eyes and tried to sit back down, and saw what he had done. You just sat mesmerized, holding your hand on his hip, and couldn't get enough of the sight. Only then did you realize what he was talking about.

You knew that you really needed to put him in order a little, but ... at first you just bent down and wrapped your arm around his neck, gently kissed him, touching the boy's lips. At first, Armin was taken aback, but only then was he finally able to relax and gently answer you, with his eyes closed, gently crushing your lips between his own. "I love you, Armin. You did great. It was just amazing..." you whispered softly into his lips, now afraid to open your eyes to look at him. You cherished this moment too much to lose it.

"And I love you too, sweet. It was... very good. Very much." Arlert replied softly, feeling the cum trickle down his stomach. "But... babe, let me return the favor. Let me please you." You, focused on getting your boy to cum, completely forgot that he might want to... give you credit too. You didn't think at all that Armin would want to please you too.

You just nodded your head, not knowing what to say. A little panic has arisen in you because this will also be the first time when someone forces you to have an orgasm. But when Armin clung to your lips again, gently tasting them, feeling his salinity on them, you relaxed, and just gave yourself up to feelings, deciding to move with the flow.

Arlert briefly interrupted the kiss to take a napkin and wipe off the remnants of his pleasure, but as soon as it was over, he gently pulled you back to him, kissing you gently, gently, lightly running his tongue over your lower lip. Armin pulled you to him, grabbing you under his arm, and you were about to move onto his lap, but he wouldn't let you do it, instead laying you on the bed.

After making sure that you were comfortably settled on the mattress, Armin clung to you again, kissing you more confidently, more deeply and passionately. His tongue made its way into your mouth and gently intertwined with your own, feeling your and his saliva in your mouth, which was already just starting to flow out of their mouths, staining their lips and chins. Meanwhile, the boy managed to pull his Boxers and pants back on, as he still felt very embarrassed about his nakedness, although he left them unbuttoned.

After enjoying your lips enough, Armin began to slowly descend down your delicate chin to your sweet neck, exploring it with his lips and tongue. He ran his lips along the front of your throat, moved to the rapidly pulsating vein, running his tongue over them, and went further closer to your ear, and when he noticed that you twitched when he touched a specific place under your ear, where the cervical ligament was, he stayed there, paying more attention to this place attention. I kissed him gently, ran my tongue over him, gently bit him, feeling how your hips clenched from his touch, and barely audible moans escaped from your mouth, which you tried so hard to restrain.

Armin has remembered this place for the future and will always kiss you there. Long and sweet. But now he has reached the edge of the collar of your soft hoodie (or rather, it was once his hoodie, because only now he realized that he had not been able to find one of the same gray one for a long time), burying his face in it to reach your bulging collarbones. "Can I... take it off? Armin asked softly, briefly tearing himself away from your skin to look at you and hear your permission.

 It was only when he heard you say yes to him that he hooked his fingers around the edge of the hoodie and gently began to lift it up. You deliberately sat up on the bed so that it would be easier for him to take off this hoodie that is not needed at the moment, and fell back onto the mattress with a heavy exhale, looking at Armin towering over your body, sitting on his knees between your legs.

Before he could cling back to your body, his spirit had already been intercepted. Damn it, you were still dressed, in your buggy jeans and a soft bra that hugged your breasts so beautifully... Armin swallowed hard and leaned back towards you, gently tracing a line of kisses from your neck to your collarbones and chest. "You look amazing, sweet.” He murmured softly, sucking on the skin under your collarbone, feeling your chest rise with every breath. God, he wanted to taste those sweet peaks so much, they looked so good wrapped in a bra fabric. It seemed to him that his cock was starting to harden again, but he was not ready for another orgasm.

Having thoroughly enjoyed your upper part of the skin, Armin continued to go down, passing between your breasts with sweet kisses, stopping on your soft stomach, kissing every inch of the skin. He noticed how the muscles of your pelvis began to tremble when he passed his lips over the skin closer to the lower abdomen, above the edge of your jeans.

"Can I..." Armin was about to ask, but was immediately interrupted by you, who wrapped her palm around his forearm, "Hey, Armin. You can do anything to me. You don't have to ask my permission every time. You can do anything." You said softly, gently stroking his sinewy forearm.

Looking into his clear blue eyes, his rosy cheeks, you felt only love and a slight excitement, just because you got just such a man. He was so good. Hearing your words, Armin nodded weakly, moved his hands to the fly of your jeans, unbuttoning them with slightly trembling fingers. Taking hold of the edge, he began to take them off you, and you lifted your hips up for convenience, allowing your beloved to take off the bottom.

It seemed to him that his heart was about to jump out of his chest. When he saw your breasts in a bra, he was ready to faint, but when you lifted your hips while he was pulling off your jeans, seeing your simple underwear, how your pubic bone bulges, seeing your pelvic bones, seeing the place where your clit should be, just the place where your pussy is... oh my God....

Swallowing hard, Armin tossed your jeans onto the chair where your hoodie was already lying. It took him a few deep breaths to decide to keep moving on. After kissing your fragile knee several times, he spoke again. "sweet... if you don't want to, I can stop and..."

You really appreciated Armin's care. You appreciated it very much, and loved him for it with all your soul. But at that moment, you just wanted to roll your eyes, and for him to act more confidently and decisively. "Armin." you said his name more firmly, looking at him with wide eyes. Of course, you felt a little nervous, lying in front of a guy already almost naked. "I so fucking want you. And I've already said that you can do whatever you think is necessary. I already told you: yes." you answered in a gentle voice, slightly rising on your forearms, while Armin silently listened to you.

"Okay, okay, I get it." He muttered, a little embarrassed. But it was already damn hard for him to see you in just your underwear, which now he will have to take off you, see you completely naked, and also... oh my God, that stain on your panties. A wet spot. Everything inside him shrank, both his insides and his hearts. It took all his courage to lean back towards you.

"Then we need to... take this off too," Armin said softly, sliding his hands under your back to unbutton your bra. His heart was pounding madly as he clumsily stretched the fasteners, and when he did, he was afraid to move on, pull the straps off your fragile shoulders and expose your chest. Armin just hung up, so you sat down on the bed again, and took it off yourself, throwing it on a chair with the rest of the things, looking straight into his eyes.

It seems his heart just stopped at that moment. When you confidently threw your bra aside and stood in front of him in this form, he really tried to look you in the eye, but as soon as you lay back again, his gaze dropped to your breasts, and he could not look away. Their beautiful roundness, softness and protruding soft nipples drove him crazy. Then Armin clearly told himself that he would not back down tonight. And never again.

Although you acted confidently, you shrank inside yourself. It's the first time you've let a guy see your breasts. You knew you looked good, very good, but seeing Armin's stunned look, how lost he looked at the moment, how his cheeks flushed even more, you shrank inside. Relaxation came to you when Arlert was getting old. "Sweet... you look incredible… you are amazing..." Armin murmured with delight, and leaned towards you again, quickly kissing your lips.

He realized that he shouldn't slow down so much and be too careful. Therefore, after gently kissing you, Armin went down again and ... after looking at your breasts for a few more seconds, he gently kissed the skin between your breasts, feeling your natural smell. Damn it, it felt too good. You smelled just great, and you looked the same. "you look very beautiful... very..." Armin murmured softly and continued to kiss your chest.

He again liked the huge amount of strength to decide to move to your chest fully. Finally, he slowly moved to one of the halves, gently kissing the halos of your mammary glands, after which he got to the nipple itself, gently kissing its tip, which caused you to twitch your whole body, and a quiet moan came out of your mouth. Armin just barely touched you, and you were already reacting like this. Although, to be honest, you were ready to cum right now, even when Armin hadn't even had time to touch your pussy yet.

"Is everything okay? Is something wrong? Are you uncomfortable?" Armin immediately began to ask excitedly, immediately tearing himself away from your surface and looking at your face. He was really worried that he might be doing something wrong and that you didn't like it.

"everything is... just great. Stunningly. Armin, please don't worry, you're doing everything just perfectly..." you replied in a weak voice, just wishing Armin's lips were in that place again.

After hearing your words, he finally realized that your slight cramp and moans were just confirmation that you felt good from his touch. This clearly gave Armin an incentive and he began to feel much more confident, which is why he immediately returned his lip to your breast and gently cupped your nipple. Having crushed it in his lips, he gently licked it, tasting you. It was really sweet, and so pleasant, so soft and good, for him and for you in particular.

He lightly rubbed your nipple with his tongue, moving it up and down, after which he gently kissed the top again and wrapped his lips around your breast much more confidently, sucking your skin and nipples into himself, and released it from his mouth with a loud squelch. Seeing that you like it, Armin moved on to your other half of your chest, running a wet trail of kisses along the middle of your chest.

The thought that soon he would touch your innermost middle, see and touch this pussy, these labia, clit and hole, it all haunted him and he was really just afraid. But when he saw how you bent under his touch, how your back bent slightly while he played with your tender nipples with his tongue, how quiet moans flew out of your chest, how his name flew from your tongue tip, Armin realized that he was doing everything right, you like everything and you definitely want it.

So slowly, with his heart pounding madly in his chest, Arlert began to slowly descend down to your stomach again. Leaving another huge portion of kisses on your skin, on your ribs, above your navel, under your navel, at the edge of your modest cotton panties, which made you twitch violently. Armin even stopped because of this, raising his eyes to you again, as if asking if everything was okay, but... you were just so damn sensitive that your muscles started to shudder just from touching the lower abdomen, on the muscles closer to the pubis, and you couldn't do anything about it. Your body just trembled and shuddered from touching in these places. "It's okay. This is... normal. It's just... too good for me." you replied softly, after which he continued to move on.

Slightly lowering himself down on the bed, Armin settled himself comfortably between your legs and began to conduct a gentle path of kisses starting from your knee down your leg to the inside of your thigh, making you tremble and squirm under his touch. You really couldn't do anything about it, you couldn't control how your legs were very visibly shaking because of all this, especially when Armin lightly sucked the skin of your thigh, and his head accidentally poked the top of your pussy, which almost made you jump.

God, Armin was going crazy while kissing your hips. They were so soft, so gentle, and you were... so worked up. You was as responsive to all touch as he was. But it gave him a lot of confidence, knowing that you were reacting like that, and that you really only felt pleasure from it all. And when he saw it clearly on your cables, which only got bigger while the tone was kissing your body, he was ready to just pass out on the spot.

And being so dangerously close to your crotch, he felt. Damn it, he could smell your pussy and his head was blurry because of it.

"God, you smell stunning, sweet.” Armin muttered thoughtlessly into the skin of your thigh, completely not expecting that he would be able to utter such an obscenity out loud. Once he got a taste, he couldn't wait to taste this pussy, taste it, find out how her skin felt, how smooth and hot it was. And when you heard these words from Armin's mouth, you just opened your mouth in a silent moan, because it sounded so damn hot....

Your heart started beating even faster when you realized that soon Armin would touch you there. You were already madly aching with desire, your whole body was on fire, and between your legs was just crazy, so your clit craved touching it. You were ready to cum from the very first touches, you were so excited all the time while you were jerking off Armin's cock, and he was kissing your body.

Remembering that you told him that he could do whatever he wanted and that he didn't need permission to do anything, Armin only raised his eyes to yours for a second to get your tacit confirmation that he could take off your panties and start... What you and he have been waiting for.

"Lift your hips for me, sweet..." Armin muttered in a quiet, drunken voice because of you, hooking his fingers around the edge of your panties, and when you really lifted your hips to help pull off the last piece of clothing, Armin just closed his eyes, unable to look at your core, which was exposed in front of him, as soon as he pulled the fabric of the panties down to your knees, and then pulled them off completely, throwing them somewhere to the side when you lifted your legs up and helped him take them off.

When the last piece of fabric that somehow covered you disappeared, you wanted to bring your legs together and close up, but Armin's body, located between your legs, did not allow you to do this, so your ankles just rested on his shoulders, and your knees squeezed his head. Probably, it was after that that Armin was able to open his eyes and see your pussy shining because of the lubricant that had leaked out all this time, and he thought that this was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Because it only took him a few seconds to look at your pussy, enjoy the view of it, see the pea of the clit, and then furiously cling to your pussy with his mouth. He didn't even have to massage your clit with his fingers before that, so that the lubricant was released and there were no exclusively those alkaline secretions that remained in the vagina, you were already fucking wet.

Your back arched in a crazy arc when Armin finally lowered his head between your legs. It was too pleasant. First, he ran his tongue all over your pussy, licked the soft folds of your outer and inner labia, tasting your sweet-sour juices. But when Armin made his way further inside, and more confidently ran a soft tongue over your burning clit, it made you just howl and grab the sheets, squeezing them in your fingers, while loud moans escaped from your chest, which you could not restrain.

According to some videos from the Internet, he remembered that girls prefer either slow, sweeping movements with their whole tongue, or fast and sharp with the tip of a hard tongue. Armin realized a long time ago that porn videos cannot be trusted, so he tried to rely on other knowledge, but now, feeling panic because he did not know how to do everything right, and the great pleasure that he himself gives pleasure to someone, Armin decided to try everything.

And while he was trying to taste you, he ran his tongue in slow circles over your clit, feeling how it throbbed and how hot it was. It was clearly a little swollen and slightly raised, so this sweet clit was very pleasant and comfortable to lick.

Armin had never thought that giving pleasure to someone was so pleasant, even better than having fun. Because your moans, the way you squirmed under his tongue, the way your legs trembled was much more satisfying than when you made him come. No, of course, he liked it too, but knowing that you felt good, good because of him, was much better. So he tried his best. He was looking for the best way to lick your clit: he swung his tongue flat on it, sucked it with his lips, releasing it with a loud sound, and quickly clicked it with the tip of his tongue. But it seems that you responded insanely strongly to everything. Just because you couldn't hold back. But…

Damn it, you came too fast. It took you less than five minutes of Armin's tongue moving on yourself before you grabbed his hair and came as hard as you've never come in your life. No hands, no fingers. This is all due to your overexcitation and high sensitivity, because you were definitely not used to touching in such places. But it was definitely something you could get used to.

"Yes, yes... honey, yes, that's it.... Faster..." you muttered softly when you realized that your orgasm was already approaching. You grabbed his hair, involuntarily pulling his head closer to you while your hips squeezed his head on the sides. You couldn't leave your legs apart, just because they were shaking too much and coming together on their own, every time Armin ran his tongue over your clit or hole, picking up another portion of your lubricant.

After hearing your words, Armin continued to pull your clit with the tip of his tongue and lips with confident firm movements, putting all his strength and emotions into it. While he was shamelessly licking you, his hands wrapped around you under your hips, gently stroking them, periodically flowing to your soft stomach, running his fingertips over your pelvic bones and under your navel. You were so soft and gentle, smelling delicious and just incredibly amazing.

When you stopped talking and only grabbed his hair roots harder, squeezing his head with your hips even harder and falling silent, somehow Armin realized that at this moment he needed to move even better. Therefore, his tongue moved more actively on your clit, and his hands clung to your hips, leaving red finger marks on them. All you could hear was heavy breathing in and out, very heavy, as if you were struggling with something, and soon it made itself felt.

The orgasm has overwhelmed you. In principle, you have always experienced quite strong orgasms yourself, but what you have experienced now... It was growing fast in you and everything was getting ready to burst into crazy sparks, which happened. It went dark in front of your eyes, and a mindless, insane pleasure spread through your body, and you squeezed your legs even harder to feel it better. you completely forgot that Armin was still there, who kept licking your current pussy, but damn.... When you collapsed back onto the bed and finally let out a loud exhale with moans, because while you were feeling all this, you just weren't breathing. It was too much. It feels like you blacked out for a few seconds because everything was still swimming in front of your eyes.

It was only when your body, your legs completely relaxed, and fell exhausted onto the mattress that Armin stopped. He looked up at your almost immobilized body, only your chest was rising high with your breathing while you were trying to catch your breath from orgasm. It seemed as if you couldn't move, your muscles relaxed so much after that.

"My God, Armin..." you muttered only after a minute or more, and then barely audibly, because you had no strength, absolutely nothing. "This is... this is... fucking, this is too good." you managed to squeeze out of yourself with your eyes closed, trying to move at least your hand.

"You're amazing, babe. It's incredible." Armin replied softly, and finally got up, getting out of your legs, leaving a kiss on your knee, on your stomach, on your neck and on your forehead along the way, after which he moved over and lay down next to you, pressing his forehead against your temple.

[doctorbrown]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 ⸺ 「 20 / 31 * LOCAL LEGEND 」

December 5, 2000, 22:54

1646 Riverside Drive, Hill Valley, California

Divergence: Twin Pines(α) — %.5382217

“Doc!!” Marty shouts, leaning so far back in the chair that, for a moment, he experiences that panic-inducing sensation of falling that has him scrabbling for the edge of the desk as his life flashes before his eyes. “Doc, he’s on! Joseph Cabret! He responded to our email! Get over here!”

Emmett grunts his acknowledgement, casting one last long look at the mess of wires hooked into the housing of the Flux Capacitor before he drags a second chair over to the computer. The cursor is already in place over the single unread email in the box and Emmett can see Marty’s finger twitching in anticipation, his eyes glued to the screen.

“Go ahead, Marty,” he prompts, only barely finishing the word go before the email pops open to an intimidating wall of black text. Marty whistles, scrolling down to the bottom of what looks like a very long-winded, very complicated scientific dissertation regarding alleged time-travel that reminds him of most of the papers scattered around the garage right now.

Dear 1.21_Jigowatts,

Emmett groans upon seeing their ridiculous username come back to haunt them in the reply and Marty throws him a lopsided grin and a shrug that says it’s way too late to change it now, Doc.

“It’s the Internet, Doc—who cares? Nobody knows who we are.”

That is the last time he lets Marty pick the name for something without reviewing it first.

Before I address everything you wrote in your email to me, I wanted to comment on your username. Were you aware of its significance in relation to time travel when you joined the forum or did you simply happen upon it by chance? Could it be that you’re a time-traveller too?

If so, I’d love to share stories while we can.

I’ve been getting a lot of questions about the future, often all limited by the scope of your present time asking for answers to inconsequential things. The next election results, lottery numbers, things of that nature, as if that’ll verify my time-traveller status. And while I can’t say I’m surprised—I’ve studied your current time carefully and unfortunately, your time is remembered for being one of the most chaotic and selfish, so it’s not like I can fault those who ask—there are some, like yourself, who have been asking complex and meaningful questions that show a genuine interest in the possible future and in time-travel that I’m all too happy to answer, as best as I can.

To answer your simplest question first, the reason I stopped in this time is an entirely selfish one. Where I’m from, most of the people I care about have been killed. There was someone very important to my Dad and my family who was killed when I was very young that I wanted to finally meet. I know he's alive now, so I'm here. Even if you think it’s a waste of time, remember that time is of no consequence with the time machine.

Now, to the bulk of this message. I see you’re intimately familiar with the Everett-Wheeler model of quantum physics, which saves me a lot of explaining. You must be a man of science. That model is correct. When I say worldline, I refer to what you’d call an ‘alternate reality’ or an ‘alternate timeline.’ So, each individual worldline represents a set of paths and limits—possibilities, if you would—taken through space-time. These are all subject to the laws of special relativity. No two are exactly the same.

There is a device installed in my time machine that measures the change in each worldline I visit. Its inventor is dead, so I can’t tell you too much about how it works other than a general overview and how to read it, but from what I understand, it collects information from the ‘current’ worldline and uses that to establish a baseline. Then, upon the next jump, a second reading is taken of the new worldline and measured against the first one. The difference—or Divergence, as the device’s creator named it—is expressed in percentages. That's how I know.

The email continues on for several more paragraphs, each delving deeper and deeper into the realm of quantum mechanics with lengthy, detailed answers provided to each question they'd asked in their initial email. A dull ache throbs at the base of Marty’s skull as the words start to blur together and he leans back in his seat, needing a little more space between him and the screen.

Unlike him, Emmett has leaned forward, elbows propped up on the table and his fingers laced tightly together as he takes in every word, unable and unwilling to stop now.

For once, Marty can’t quite get a read on what his friend is thinking based off his strangely serious expression and the occasional noncommittal noise he makes while his eyes dart across the screen. The Doc’s thinking about something—he always furrows his brows like that when he’s deep in thought, puzzling out some scientific conundrum—that he knows he’ll share with him once he’s had the chance to process the information.

He himself isn’t quite sure what to think. After all, he’s heard some of these terms thrown around by Doc in the course of their testing and refinement of the Flux Capacitor. It has to mean something that Joseph Cabret knows it too.

Emmett finally breaks his attention away from the screen to train his still-thoughtful gaze on Marty.

“What do you think, Doc? You think there’s any truth to what he’s been saying the last couple weeks or you think it’s all bullshit?”

The words I look forward to your reply, JC stare back at them from the bottom of the screen and Marty doesn’t know why he suddenly feels self-conscious.

“I think—we can’t entirely rule out the possibility.”

“You mean—seriously?”

“I’m not saying definitively yes or definitively no. A lot of the science he talks about is sound. I’ve come to many of the same conclusions in my own work, as you’ve seen in the tests with the Flux Capacitor. We know time travel is possible. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean everything he says is true. Without any proof positive or photos of his time machine, we’ll have to take everything else he says with a grain of salt.” A flicker of uncertainty passes across Emmett’s face, there and gone in the span of a blink.

He pushes the chair back as Marty asks, “And?”

Emmett blinks. “I’m sorry?”

“I didn’t read all of that,” Marty admits somewhat sheepishly. “I tuned out somewhere around black holes or wormholes and I figured you’d fill me in if there was anything important on the science end I needed to know. But I watched you read it and I saw that look on your face. There's something else bothering you about this.”

He doesn’t answer right away and Marty doesn’t rush to break the silence. Finally, he sighs, turning back to the screen. “No, you’re right. There is something that jumped out at me, but let’s wait and see what else he has to share with us before I start getting ahead of myself.”

 “You’re going to answer him back?”

“Why not?” Marty beams, clearly pleased. “Let’s take a couple minutes to sit with this and then I’ll start working on our reply. If it all turns out to be for nothing in the end, at least we pursued the possibility rather than let it pass us by.”

[antiquarianfics]

Don’t Think About It

Maybe admitting how you feel isn’t the worst thing?

a/n: this is so unproofed, but who cares? daddy made you some content; it’s your favorite. open wide. (i’m sorry for calling myself ‘daddy’)

warnings: none?

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy, repost, or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

Bucky groans and clicks the TV off, throwing the remote on the coffee table unceremoniously as he leans back into the loveseat. You raise an eyebrow at his dramatics, an amused smile pulling at your lips.

“You alright there?” You tease, poking him in the shoulder.

Bucky gives you a pointed look, but his lips tick up in a tiny smile when he looks at you.

“I’m just sick of watching your ‘news.’” He does air quotes with his hands around “news.”

“Why’s that?”

“Uh,” he starts, looking around the room as he gestures widely. “It’s dumb, doll.”

“Hey!”

“It is,” he says curtly. “It doesn’t matter if two random celebrities are being seen together, or if one famous person unfollowed another famous person, or if that one offhand comment a singer made was actually a secret easter egg for a new music video.” He rolls his eyes. You scoff dramatically in mock offense.

“How dare you! It’s not stupid! It’s entertaining.” You nod your head and try to put on an expression of the utmost sincerity.

Bucky laughs. “Yeah, how so?”

“Sometimes they talk about us.”

This gets his attention—his interest.

“Us? Us, us?” His eyes lock in yours.

“No, the Avengers,” you shrug. “It’s kind of funny the things they think about our lives. Either way, though, I kind of like hearing about what celebrity is mad at who, which celebrity is crushing on who.” You sigh. “It’s fun.”

“Crushes are dumb,” Bucky says. It’s abrupt and matter of fact. It takes you off guard, but you find yourself going along with it without thinking much about it. Truth is, though, you will go along with a lot Bucky says without really thinking your words over first; it’s as if your desire to impress him and attract his attention takes over.

“Oh, yeah,” you scoff, “for sure. Crushes are so dumb. They make me act so stupid in front of people I like.” You laugh.

“You always act stupid, though,” Bucky teases, shoving your arm a little with his hand. The cool of his metal arm feels nice in its brief contact against your skin.

“Yeah,” you chuckle nervously, rubbing your arm where he pushed you. “I wouldn’t think too much about that.”

Bucky gives you a look, blue eyes piercing your person; you feel your cheeks heat up as you attempt to keep your attention on anything but him.

“Why not?” Bucky asks, breaking a long silence.

You make eye contact with him, shrugging nonchalantly.

“No, no. Doll, don’t backtrack now. Why not?” Bucky pushes, shifting in his seat so that he’s properly facing you.

“Let’s just say I don’t act so stupid in front of Sam and leave it at that, okay?”

Bucky fights a smirk off his face. “You act stolid in front of Sam, though.”

“If you saw me act stupid in front of Sam, then I wasn’t alone with Sam, now was I?”

“So I make you act stupid?”

“I’m responsible for my own actions.”

“And you act stupid in front of people you have a crush on.”

“I admitted to that.”

“So that must mean…”

“2 plus 2 is 4, yes.”

Bucky grins. “Sorry, Doll. I’m not great at numbers. Mind putting that into words for me?”

You glare at the man in front of you, your face feeling unbelievably hot.

“I act stupid in front of my crushes, and I act stupid in front of you.”

“Go on.”

“Because I have a crush on you.” You swallow and look anywhere but him.

“There’s my girl,” he says softly, his hand cupping to it cheek and turning you to face him.

You say nothing, just stare at him, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. He smiles before leaning in and kissing you softly, the coarseness of his stubble tickling your face. His lips are soft, and is lips move expertly against yours. He doesn’t pull away until you’re both out of breath.

“Still think my ‘news’ is stupid?” You tease. He shakes his head, chuckling, and leans back in for another kiss.

[ibarap]

[Scout] White Bear / Pure White Diary 6 (END)

Nagisa: ...? Um, Merry Christmas...?

<On the day of the Christmas party.>

Hiyori: "—Did everyone get their Christmas presents? Raise your hand if you did!"

Yuzuru: "I'll check. One, two, three..."

"...It's the same as the number of presents we prepared. There's no need to worry."

Adonis Otogari: "The Christmas party is almost over, but please keep on being good kids even after this. Can all of you guys promise us that?"

"...Heh, that's good."

Leo: "One last thing! We'll see you guys off with a classic Christmas song! Everybody please sing along. ☆"

Leo & Hiyori: "♪~♪~♪"

Yuzuru & Adonis: "♪~♪~♪"

<Some time later.>

Hiyori: Knock knock! Excuse us!

Merry Christmas! We're here to see you!

Boy: Ah, the idol onii-chans!

Yuzuru: Merry Christmas. Were you able to enjoy the Christmas party even if it was through your room's TV?

Boy: Yeah! It was fun hearing all those songs!

But why wasn't Glasses onii-chan there?

Tsumugi: Fufu, I was there, just not on stage~.

I was working in the shadows — I did a lot of supporting work behind the scenes so that it would be a fun event.

Adonis: The Christmas party was a success because of him.

Thank you, Aoba-senpai.

Tsumugi: Don't thank just me, you know~. It was thanks to everyone who had volunteered—

And, more than anything, the children who were looking forward to the party. They're the stars of the show, after all. ...Hiyori-kun?

Hiyori: Alright, it's about time we got to the point.

Merry Christmas! White Bear's back home, so give him a big hug!

Boy: Wahh, welcome home, White Bear!

Leo: Also, here's your Christmas present from all of us. ☆

It's a digital photo frame full of pictures of White Bear, and—

Adonis: A diary we all made. We wrote about the days we spent with White Bear in detail inside of it.

We'd be happy if the memories we made with him comes across even a little bit.

Yuzuru: And finally, we left the back pages of the diary blank on purpose.

When you're feeling better, go outside and take White Bear to all kinds of places, then write down the memories you made together in those pages. ♪

Hiyori: It's going to stay cold for a while, but spring will definitely come.

So spend a fun wintertime with White Bear, okay...? ♪

Boy: I will! Thank you, idol onii-chans.

This year's Christmas and all the nice onii-chans—

Me and White Bear will never, ever forget about it!

<A few months later.>

Nagisa: ...It seems Ibara and Jun aren't here yet.

Hiyori: You're right. How cheeky of them to keep us waiting!

Hmm, my phone went off? I hope that's not them telling us they'll be running late—

...

... ♪

Nagisa: ...What is it, Hiyori-kun?

Hiyori: Merry Christmas, Nagisa-kun.

Nagisa: ...? Um, Merry Christmas...?

...Hasn't Christmas passed already? Am I wrong about that?

Hiyori: No, you're right. Christmas is long over.

But there's no rule saying you can only say 'Merry Christmas' on Christmas itself, is there?

...Remember when I volunteered for that Christmas party at a hospital last year?

We got to know a bedridden boy at that time, and he let us look after his white teddy bear.

The boy couldn't leave his hospital room, so we took a lot of pictures of his teddy bear in his place. That way, we could grant his wish to 'go outside for Christmas'.

Nagisa: ...Yes, of course I remember. You also took a picture with me while his teddy bear was in your care.

Hiyori: Right, I did do that. ♪

Tsumugi-kun sent me photos from the hospital just now. ...Look, Nagisa-kun.

Because he's motivated to go outside with White Bear, he's working hard on his rehabilitation.

Here's one of them outside his room, one of them in a car seat, and one of White Bear on his lap.

They both look super happy. ♪

Nagisa: ...That's why you said, "Merry Christmas".

Hiyori: Exactly! It really warmed my heart. I feel like I got a Christmas present. ♪

That boy is getting better and better from now on. I hope he gets better to the point he can freely go to all kinds of places with White Bear.

When he does, I'm pretty sure he'll smile even more and that everyday will be fun! I'd be happy if we could be the reason he takes that first step forward. ♪

Nagisa: ...I'm quite certain you are his reason. Hiyori-kun is the Sun telling him that spring has come—

...and just by being near you, he will feel warm even in the cold winter. Because that's the kind of person you are.

...Merry Christmas, Hiyori-kun.

Hiyori: Yes, Merry Christmas... ♪

» Prev | Masterlist | Next «

[mixelation]

first part of velocity (unproofed bc i am running out the door) ->

Minato was stressed. 

“Then Orochimaru has Shiranui,” Danzo intoned, dead confident even though Shikaku’s report on the situation had included dozens of unknowns. “No one else in the area could pose a threat to a Jounin of Konoha.”

“We still don’t know anything about this new village,” Minato pointed out, “or what clans joined it. There could still be lone actors–”

“Please,” Danzo interrupted, unimpressed. “No Sound ninja could disappear a Jounin so thoroughly.”

“With all due respect,” Minato said tightly, “you have not been on the frontlines in decades. Does anyone who’s actually been to Sound have any thoughts?”

Had Minato even invited Danzo to this meeting? He barely even remembered calling the meeting. Meetings just happened, now that he was Hokage. Turns out that’s all being Hokage was: things happened, and then instead of doing anything about them, Minato sat around listening to high ranking ninja explain their opinions. Oh, and sometimes he stamped things. Forms. Proposals. Budgets. Paperwork.

Four years ago, Minato had been spending most of his time on the frontlines. Going from the most hands-on possible approach to this had been a rough transition, and he had perhaps relied too heavily on the ancient Hokage's Council as a result. 

The war was slowly coming to a stop now, and he could definitely make some moves to bring in younger people with more recent experience. But for now, he had to work with what was in place. For this meeting, that was Shikaku, an ex-field commander he’d nab in the hallway because she’d been stationed in Sound, and a bunch of old people. 

“Danzo-sama is right in that we’ve knocked out most of their known major players,” the ex field commander drawled. “But you never know, out there in the boonies. They’re not like us; they just let any ninja wander around and chop up whoever they want.”

To illustrate this, she held up her right arm, which ended not with a hand but with a wiry assistive device meant to let her hold a writing utensil. 

“...right,” Shikaku said slowly. “Inuzuka last caught his scent near the new… village, if we’re calling it that… but we can’t pin it on them, and we also can’t eliminate some other third party.”

Genma had only been officially missing a scant thirty hours. He’d been en route between camps for normal restationing and missed his check-in. If he were most ninja, this would not have warranted a meeting. It probably would have been dealt with locally, shoved into a summary report, and Minato probably wouldn’t have found out for days that anything at all had happened. If this had been at the height of the war, even someone like Genma might have gotten this treatment. 

But the war was waning, and Genma was part of the Hokage’s guard. As someone intimately familiar with Minato’s personal life and the inner workings of Hokage tower, Genma was important enough to warrant a quick investigation, and they had the people and time to dedicate to it. 

“Why was Shiranui even in Sound?” Koharu asked. 

Minato leaned back in his seat, biting his thumbnail in thought. He really didn’t see the need to have a full guard inside the village, and morale at field camps was usually better when popular Jounin like Genma were hanging around. Minato had seen it as more useful to have him running chores out in the field. 

It was true that a Hokage’s guard would be a great hostage, if some nefarious player wanted to re-escalate war. 

That would be so many meetings, Minato thought. He really couldn’t have that. 

The meeting wrapped up with barely a plan in place, as was what happened at many meetings. Shikaku would send word to both camps to re-sweep the area, and then Minato would add it to his agenda at yet another meeting to rearrange people to put together a tracking team instead of just one random Inuzuka who happened to be on duty. 

Miraculously, one of his afternoon meetings was canceled. Someone had died. Such was life as a shinobi. 

“I could move up your meeting with the fruit vendors’ union,” his secretary said. 

“Please don't,” Minato replied. He hated talking to those guys. 

His secretary left, and Minato immediately felt antsy. It was very rare he had an hour free like this in the middle of the day. What could he do? Take a nap? Kidnap Naruto away from his babysitter for a playtime speedrun? Bother Kushina? He glanced at the clock. No, Naruto would be down for a nap and Kushina would be meeting with the Academy headmaster about their curriculum on storage scrolls again… 

Minato glanced down at the mess of paperwork on his desk. He really, really didn’t want to do any of it right now. How was his job both stressful and boring? He liked being free to see his little family most evenings, and he mostly liked acting as a leader. But he’d thought he’d get more time to just be a ninja. 

Actually, he thought. Was he not his own boss? Was there not a pressing problem he couldn’t just solve right now?

Sound Country had been home to several major ninja pathways, camps, and battles during this war. Minato had plenty of Hiraishin markers scattered around, including along the path Genma would have taken between camps. 

Minato found Genma in about eight minutes of searching, several hundred meters off the normal route. 

“Hokage-sama!” Genma cried in evident relief. His face was one Minato had seen often in his lifetime but not so much in the last few years of mainly administrative work: the instant relief of a man who’d consigned himself to death, now realizing that he was going to live. 

Minato shot him a reassuring smile even as his eyes darted around the clearing. There were no ninja in the area, but Genma was currently trapped within the glowing walls of a massive blue-green chakra barrier. It had an unusual shape, delineated by stalks of bamboo at the corners of an irregular pentagon. 

Well, this shouldn’t be too difficult to dismantle. Minato might be off the battlefield, but he was still up to snuff on all things fuuinjutsu. He stepped up the closet bamboo shoot, which had a seal carved… into it…?

“What happened?” he asked Genma as he eyed the seal. This was… not a normal piece of fuuinjutsu. Hmm. 

“There was a little girl,” Genma started. He sounded incredibly stressed as he described the sequence of events: Genma had encountered a local civilian girl on his trek. He recognized her as belonging to a nearby village and being one of the local women and children who’d occasionally barter with Konoha field camps. She’d sprained her ankle, and he’d stop to help. 

“But then she… I don’t know, she… the barrier…”

 Then this random civilian girl had activated a barrier and left Genma. Sure. Why not. 

“Are you sure she’s not a ninja?” Minato asked, frowning at the seal. He could recognize it as a barrier seal, but there were like seventeen things going on with it he didn’t understand. A civilian could activate certain types of ninja-made seals in theory, but not this one. 

“No, she’s the soap girl!” Genma bemoaned. “She shows up sometimes to sell shitty soaps. There’s no way she’s a ninja.”

But then, Genma continued in a clearly upset sort of ramble, she’d asked him if he was well-hydrated and how much water and food he had on him, and just left. 

“I’ve been here at least two days,” Genma said. 

“The barrier lasted that long?” Minato asked. “Impressive.”

“Impressive?” Genma repeated. 

“It’s a fairly chakra-heavy barrier,” Minato replied. Genma continued to stare at him with what looked like a vaguely scandalized expression. “Usually to maintain something like this long-term, you’d need to put a lot of chakra in at the beginning– usually done with multiple people, and definitely not by a child– or you’d need to be actively maintaining it. This little girl never came by? No other ninja?”

Genma stared at him, wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open. Minato raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

“Well, no,” Genma said after a few moments had passed. “Can you please get me out before we debrief?”

Ah, Minato supposed Genma was a little freaked out by the prospect of his own untimely death, withering away in a random barrier by what seemed to be the random whims of a child. That was fair. Minato turned back to the seal. 

He looked at it some more, then moved around to the next bamboo shoot, and then the next. 

“Huh,” he said. 

“Hokage-sama?” Genma asked. 

“I have no idea how to undo this,” Minato said, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. 

“Hokage-sama.”

Genma was looking at him in horror now, but Minato could feel a certain giddiness building in his stomach. Finally, something interesting! What was going on with this seal? He could tell a bunch of the mystery components had to do with pulling chakra, but from where? The bamboo itself? Minato had heard stories from Kushina of ancient Uzushio seals using length of living kelp, twisted into seals that could pull on chakra as long as the kelp was alive. But those were supposed to be legends! 

“Hokage-sama, are you smiling?” Genma whined. 

“It’s just really interesting,” Minato defended. He was going to save Genma, okay? “I’m going to get my notes.”

It only took Minato a minute to teleport to his office, dig up a notebook with enough blank pages, and then teleport back. Genma still gave him a look of deep betrayal that he’d left at all. 

Minato was pretty good at multitasking, so he quizzed Genma on details of how the seal had been activated while copied the location of the seals and took etchings of them. 

“She didn’t mention any name at all?” Minato confirmed. “No boss she’s working for?”

Minato really, really wanted to meet whoever had made this nightmare of a seal. He wanted to know how they’d come up with it, and then quiz them if they new more seals like this, that could use chakra from natural sources, and then maybe have this person to dinner to just talk fuuinjutsu with him and Kushina all night. 

Except they were in an enemy nation, so probably Minato would have to settle for imprisoning this person and then interrogating them via Yamanaka mindwalk. Boo. 

Also, on top of the wild chakra source, the barrier was just really well made. Genma had not just been sitting around for two days; he’d executed several earth jutsu to try and burrow out, but the barrier extended underground. It even stood up to a rasengan. Minato couldn’t even destroy the five bamboo shoots powering the whole thing, because they were integrated into the walls of the barrier itself. 

“This person must have troubleshooted this a lot,” Minato said, squinting at one of the seals. This thing matched no reports of anything Konoha had seen during the war. How could they have never noticed this person running around?

Genma was clearly starting to panic again. 

“Sir, what are you going to do?” he asked. “I’m out of water and food.”

Minato cocked his head to the side, thinking. He did have another meeting he really had to go to, as much as he wanted to stay here and geek out over this cool new seal. He could teleport over to the nearest camp, tell them where Genma was so they could put a guard on him, and then come back later with Kushina. Could they safely bring Naruto? He always felt guilty when they had to leave the kid alone in the evening…

Then, they heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. They weren’t particularly loud, but they were definitely civilian. Genma shut his mouth, and Minato turned to the source, eyebrows raised. 

The person got close enough that he could see the outline of a figure through the bamboo. The person was small, clearly a child. Then they clearly realized they’d made a terrible mistake and turned to flee. 

Minato shot forward, grabbing the kid by the back of her yukata. She matched the description Genma had given of the kid who’d trapped him: dark curly hair and eyes, around eight. She stomped over to the clearing like a civilian who was used to navigating bamboo, and then for the briefest moment where she’d attempted to run, made it very clear she was a ninja in training. 

So. That was interesting. 

Minato pulled her into the clearing and set her down on her feet. She was technically an enemy who had put an important Konoha Jounin in a situation which might actually kill him, but also she was a little kid. Minato hated having to kill or bully kids. 

“Hi there,” he said, shooting her his most child-friendly smile. 

“Reina, you horrible little brat!” Genma yelled, banging his fists on the wall of the barrier. 

Reina ignored him entirely, eyeing Minato up and down with deep suspicion. She was either extremely confident the barrier could completely contain Genma, or she’d recognized Minato as the greater threat, or both. 

“Don’t worry,” Minato said. “I’m not going to hurt you. Just answer some questions as best you can, and you won’t even get in trouble, okay?”

“Oooh, you’re going to be in so much trouble when I get out!” Genma screamed. 

“Ignore him,” Minato said, then winked playfully at her. 

Reina’s lips thinned and she looked doubtful. But she also didn’t even spare Genma a glance as she shouted threats at her. 

“Look, I’m not going to kill him,” Reina said finally. “I was… even coming to feed him.”

She produced a beat up looking bag of dried fruit from her pocket and held this up as if it were evidence. There were only a few pieces left. If Minato hazarded a guess, he’d say it was left over from her own snack and then forgotten in her pocket. 

“Right,” Minato said slowly. “Listen, I don’t really care that you trapped him.”

(“WHAT?” Genma yelled.)

“But I really want to know, Reina-chan,” Minato continued, trying to look as friendly as possible even as Genma continued to bluster in outrage, “do you know who made this barrier?”

Reina’s brows furrowed slightly, studying his face. Minato smiled back encouragingly. He eyes finally darted over to the barrier. 

“Oh,” she said, as if realizing something. “Oh. Yeah, of course that’s what you’d want. Ummm.”

She fidgeted with the bag of dry fruit in her hands, crinkling the plastic under her fingers. The label was faded with time and the wear and tear of riding around in a child’s pockets, but it was one of the brands Konoha included in their ration packs for field camps. She’d likely gotten it from a field camp. 

“Did someone show you the trap?” Minato asked gently. 

“Uh, well,” Reina replied. “About that…”

Reina didn’t seem to be too afraid to talk to him, but she also seemed to be afraid of whatever the answers to his questions were. This made sense to Minato. If she was a ninja living in this area, she was probably associated with this new “village” Orochimaru had made. It would be logical to fear he’d turn violent if she brought up Konoha’s most notorious missing-nin. 

Briefly, Minato wondered if the seal was Orochimaru’s design. Setting up and then abandoning a trap such that a child might take advantage of it was not something Orochimaru was likely to do, but perhaps he’d developed the fuuinjutsu and someone else had set it up. 

Except, no– that wasn’t really aligned with Orochimaru’s skillset. Orochimaru was a prolific fuuinjutsu user, but he wasn’t a true master. Under Konoha he’d never shown interest in developing new fuuinjutsu beyond some modifications to seals useful to his research. Not even he could wake up one day and spontaneously invent what looked like an entirely new field of fuuinjutsu. 

Minato felt like fidgeting himself with excitement. If it wasn’t Orochimaru, maybe dinner wasn’t completely off the table. 

Reina still hadn’t answered, so Minato tried, “I know you’re an Oto-nin, and that our villages don’t really get along. But I promise I just want to know who made this seal. Nothing bad is going to happen to you.”

He did his best “don’t worry, I’m here to save you and you’re not going to die” smile. Reina tilted her head back, eyes narrowing. 

“Okay,” she said. “Nothing bad will happen to me? I have your word?”

“Um, yes,” Minato said. 

“So if I go back to my boss and tell him I gave up fuuinjutsu secrets to the Hokage, he won’t do anything bad?”

“No,” Minato replied slowly, and Reina looked at him like he was deeply stupid, the type of look only a little kid could level at an adult. It was the type of unimpressed expression he now only ever got from his own child. “Well,” Minato corrected. “I won’t do anything to you, and my friend here won’t either.”

He shot Genma a look. Genma glared back at him but shut up. 

“So I don’t have your word that nothing bad will happen,” Reina concluded. 

Gods above, Minato thought, starting to feel annoyed. His meeting was in fifteen minutes, but he wanted the identity of this fuuinjutsu user so bad. Why do they have to make kids so smart?

“At least ask her to get me out of here,” Genma said, keeping his voice level this time, although there was a hint of desperation in there. 

Minato had not asked for this, because he had assumed the girl had simply known of the trap and walked Genma into it, and was therefore unlikely to know how to deactivate it. But she eyed Minato up and down again, and then said:

“I’ll let him out, but you have to keep your word.”

Then she pulled a brush and a bottle of ink from her sleeves and walked over to the nearest bamboo shoot. Minato followed her, holding back the urge to ask her about fifteen questions. She was eight. She probably had no idea how the seal worked. 

“You know, my clan kicked me out,” Reina said conversationally as she applied ink directly to the barrier as it hummed over the wood of the bamboo. Who the hell taught her to do that? No one did that. That would have been Minato’s “well, nothing else worked” level attempt at breaking it. “I don’t have any biological family to defend me or look after me. My clan only lets me stay around because uniting the clans means other people take care of me. Really, I’ve been looking for a way to escape.”

“Uh huh,” Minato replied, watching her hands as she painted characters over the ones etched into the bamboo. A counter-seal then… what a bizarre way to design something, to only be able to undo it by painting a brand new seal on top. That barely left room for any error, although he supposed the benefit was that this approach had made it so Genma couldn’t just break the bamboo, and even someone like Minato would need days of work to come up with a counter-seal. 

Reina made no errors in her counter-seal, and so she didn’t blow them all up or screw up the seal such that no one could take it down. The walls of the barrier fizzled away, and for a second Genma looked like he was on the brink of tears. 

“Hey, stand down,” Minato chided when Genma made a move towards them and Reina tensed. Had Genma not been listening to their whole conversation? 

Genma obeyed, standing at attention while also scowling at Reina. 

Reina stared up at Minato expectantly, the ink brush still in her hands. The counter-seal had melted into ink stains on the bamboo and the surrounding grass when the barrier lifted, and Minato considered asking her to draw it again for him to make sure he got all the details. 

Still, who on earth had taught such a young child such advanced fuuinjutsu? Minato flipped his notebook to a new page and eyed Reina. 

“Reina-chan,” he said slowly. “Who is your fuuinjutsu teacher?”

“Oh, um,” she said. “Oto encourages… self study…?”

He stared down at her. 

No way. No fucking way. 

“Sir,” Genma said. 

“About your promise,” Reina started. 

Minato had his stupid meeting in two minutes, and it was vital to keeping the village running or whatever. He didn’t have time to unpack this right now. 

“You said your clan kicked you out?” he asked Reina. 

“Yes,” she confirmed. “So if you could just drop me off in–”

“So you don’t have family you’d miss?” he asked. 

“Uh… no?”

Right. This was perfect. He took her hand, then grabbed for Genma’s forearm. He teleported all three of them into his office. 

“This isn’t–” Reina started, for the first time showing actual fear. 

“It’s okay,” Minato said, patting her on the head. Children liked that, right? Well, Naruto hated it, but Academy kids loved when he paid attention to them. “Genma, go get checked out at the hospital and then come back for a debriefing.”

“Um, yessir,” Genma said, eyeing Reina and looking completely unsure of the situation. 

Minato actually couldn’t wait to quiz Reina on what the fuck was going on in Oto. How much fuuinjutsu did she actually know? How had she gotten the idea for the wild bamboo seal? Did Orochimaru maybe have old Uzushio materials lying around that Minato and Kushina should know about?

“Hokage-sama,” his secretary said, entering the office, “the Hyuuga clan representative… who is this child?”

Right. His meeting. He’d have to hold off on talking to her. If she were an adult, the protocol would be to stick her with T&I. But she wasn’t an adult; she was an increasingly frightened looking child. If he stuck her in T&I, he’d not only create a ton of red tape for himself to interact with her, but she might end up too freaked out to talk to him as soon as he wanted her to. 

“Genma,” he said, deciding on the best course of action. “On your way down, drop Reina-chan off with Kushina.”

Genma sighed. “Sure, Hokage-sama,” he said, sounding deeply unhappy. 

There. Now Minato could have his fun little dinner.