#was this the one I planned to release next? no

[keferon]

My hands are shaky and my head is refusing to work properly! But! I made it!

The Blurr chapter for Mecha au >:D

Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.

Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.

He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.

And people believe him.

And they love him.

Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.

Under the cut

————————————

Nobody likes Blurr.

Okay, if you think on a large scale, everyone loooves Blurr. His face is on every poster, his brand is in every possible store, his voice and is in every cool commercial. You literally can't exist without knowing who Blurr is, or at least seeing his face once. It's a “Luke I'm your father” level phenomenon. How massive a rock do you have to live under to miss something like that?

Everybody loves Blurr. You can go buy a t-shirt with his face on it. You can go listen to his interviews or purchase a tiny replica of his action figure. There are incredibly many ways a Blurr fan can blow a hole in their budget.

Swerve knows, because he's done it many times. And recently, it's stopped being something he's proud of. To be precise, it was exactly four days ago when Blurr first stepped into his office. Swerve had just finished his shift and was finishing his tea when his boss suddenly appeared in the doorway, with the best racer in the world right behind him.

The tea was instantly dropped, adrenaline was released, and the brain was turned off.

In that moment, Swerve thought that this is what it must look like. The moment when all your good karma comes together in one pile to reward you for all the times you dropped a sandwich butter side down or missed a deadline.

Both of which happened with annoying regularity. Swerve is unlucky. Sometimes things seem to fall through his hands.

It started out great.

Swindle, their boss, showed up in the office space one day looking simultaneously jubilant, nervous, and very inspired. Usually on such occasions, Swerve could almost see the dollar signs reflected in his boss's glasses.

“Attention everyone. We have an important guest arriving in an hour.”

Swindle expressively pushed his glasses down on his nose and looked around the room

“I promised him a tour and I expect you all to behave yourselves.”

He meticulously looks around the floor beneath his feet

“Send someone to clean up all the trash. This place is unbelievably filthy. The floors should be sparkling in twenty minutes! And, oh! Hey you, go buy some good drinks.”

Having finished inspecting the floor Swindle hurriedly runs off, probably to say the same thing to the neighboring department.

Swerve stretches his neck out curiously, listening in

“Is the president coming to see us?”

Walking by, Jazz shrugs

“When the president was coming Swindle said the floor was dirty and made him wear boot covers.”

It's not the president

Swindle gestures generously to the entire office at once and looks overall like a bird trying his best to primp up

“And here we have the engineering department offices. In the next building is the assembly plant, that's where the mechs are put on their feet so to speak. And this is where all the computing, design, and planning happens.”

Just over his shoulder stands and looks around at none other than

Oh, dear God.

Swerve's tea flies to the floor next to his thought processes.

He's seen Blurr countless times, but never in person. How can this guy look as good in person as he does in expensive retouched-until-squeaky-clean photos? Mystery.

Blurr's gaze slides lazily over the simple office setting and for those two seconds when it's directed at Swerve it feels like sheer madness. He tries to look normal. He's not sure he's succeeding, but he's making an effort.

Swindle waltzes through the office, heading for the next door

“Come on I'll show you the mech hangar.”

Blurr grins.

“A highlight of the show I suppose~”

His voice is like a needle bursting a ball of stunned silence. People begin to rise from their seats and scramble to say hello. Someone asks for an autograph, others ask for a bunch of selfies, a couple people in the corner hastily fix their hair, one of the employees just pulls out his phone and shamelessly starts filming.

Swindle looks at the this with an unchanging commercial smile, but his gaze promises all kinds of punishment.

Perhaps if it had been the president, the buffoonery would have been smaller.

______________

For the next few days, Blurr is the big news and the center of all discussion.

Officially? He's becoming one of the pilots in the Mecha program.

In fact? Swindle's greedy soul couldn't get enough of the idea that the Mech concept could be monetized.

The dust is blown off Blurr and his boots are licked. He doesn't go to general training, he doesn't participate in ordinary or overly dangerous missions. He's allowed everything and a little more. His job is to look pretty on camera, speak his lines, smile and wink. He's a walking advertisement and Swindle's incredibly powerful tool in negotiating with investors.

Swerve once saw him called to a negotiation in the middle of the night, and even sleep-deprived and exhausted after a full day of filming, Blurr had the strength to pull that charming expression on his face and flawlessly play along with Swindle wherever he needed to.

His mech was a work of art. And that's not even an exaggeration. Usually the main purpose of mechs is to be efficient and practical. Blurr's Mech was made separately and so many people worked on its design that it could have its own end credits. It's beautiful, sleek, shiny and show-offy. It's designed to be awe-inspiring, but not so decorated that it's ridiculous.

When Swerve looks at its specs, he almost feels sick. Maneuverability, mobility, everything is absolutely top-notch. But most importantly, speed.

The technology to accelerate Mechs to incredible speeds has been around for some time, but the average robot doesn't reach even half of the technically possible maximum. Because even the fastest machine can't outrun the human brain.

After a certain threshold, pilots are no longer capable of controlling their own Mech. Human reaction speed is simply not enough to maneuver without crashing into anything or losing their orientation in space. And. Well. Without losing consciousness.

This has led to Mech manufacturers sort of tacitly agreeing on a rough speed limit and tending to stick to it. Just to make the technology safer and more suitable for everyone.

Regardless. Everyone except Blurr apparently.

Because the numbers across from his Mech's speed specs are horrifying. Swerve looks at the blueprints and thinks it's either freaking awesome or absolute suicide. Maybe something in between. Can a human being have reflexes like that? What about this turning mechanism? The numbers tell him that these levels of g-force make a large percentage of pilots just pass out.

Is Blurr really going to pilot this death wagon??

To achieve that kind of speed and mobility, they'd have to cut off half the armor or make it very light. Which would almost be like inviting a dangerous injury.

But if the Mech is made primarily to flaunt rather than fight...well... it probably makes sense.

Swerve's inner fan is sliding down the wall.

Blurr is incredible. And what's even more incredible is that he's kind of sort of almost Swerve's coworker now.

It only takes him a couple days to realize.

Everyone loves Blurr.

But the one who loves Blurr the most is Blurr himself.

The rose-tinted glasses are breaking slowly but surely. On the first day, Sverve walks up on shaky legs to get introduced. He tells himself that this is definitely not an attempt to get an autograph. They're coworkers. He's just...uh...greeting a new employee.

Blurr looks slightly bored.

“You're from this department....uh.. What's its name, whatever.”

Swerve clutches his hands in front of him so he doesn't accidentally drop anything

“OH.Uh yeah. Swerve! Engineering Department. You were there on a tour the other day. I usually work in the assembly plant, making armor for Mechs, developing new alloys. But I design too! I, uh.

(Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. He'll think you're a crazy fan. Don't talk about Blurr.)

Blurr starts to get sidetracked by his phone.

Swerve swallows awkwardly.

“I'm uh. I'm a big fan of yours. Sir.”

(Good job...)

Blurr chuckles softly and offers out his hand

“Well, nice to meet you.”

Sverve's hand is shaking like crazy, he hopes he isn't squeezing too hard. Working in the assembly has made his hands rough. Blurr's narrow, soft palm is almost sinking in his grip.

“ 'Nice to meet you, yes. Nice to meet you sir! If you, ah, if you have any problems or questions or uh, well. You know, if you need help with your Mech or upgrades or or.”

Blurr chuckles.

“I'll be counting on you~”

Swerve feels like his soul is about to break away from his body.

The next, day when they cross paths in the hallway Blurr waves to him.

“Hey you. Whatever your name is. Can you tell me how to get to Block D?

Swerve stops awkwardly.

“Ah. Of course! I'm Swerve sir. Come, I'll show you.”

Blurr smiles a beautiful, ad-libbed smile and follows him in

“Thank you darling.”

From this point on, the entire program gradually learns a simple but unpleasant truth.

Blurr is an asshole.

And nobody likes him.

He always has everyone at his beck and call. You rarely get to see him on his own. There's always someone swirling around him with a guilty or annoyed face. A sort of serve-get-show-explain designated poor guy.

Swindle treats Blurr like a precious antique vase.

Blurr treats people like his servants.

The whole world is in love with the glittering cover, the image polished to a squeak. Until recently, Swerve was doing the same thing. Now it feels more like an embarrassing crush.

Blurr still doesn't remember his name. He actually remembers at most three to four people by name, and calls everyone else “hey you” or “ darling”. After Swerve reintroduced himself to him for the fourth time he just sort of...stopped trying.

On the field, Blurr is incredible. No one can deny that. The tremendous speed of his Mech leaves all the other pilots in the dust. Whoever said human reflexes weren't fast enough? HA. When Swerve sees his reports and results, he gets dizzy.

The combination of such incredible speeds and light armor means Blurr simply can't miss. If he hesitates, if he falters. If he gets confused. The whole metal thing will smash him to smithereens.

And yet Blurr comes back untouched time after time.

Swerve's no longer inclined to think it's just because of his mad skills. He knows that Swindle is paying Blurr a lot of money for his cooperation. No one would let Blurr fight on the front lines, no. It would be too dangerous. He has to do just enough so that Swindle can record a commercial and in it call Blurr a badass pilot without adding small print to that statement.

Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.

Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.

He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. But he is the first person every citizen would name if asked to say something about the Mech program. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.

And people believe him.

And they love him.

A month later, he still can't remember anyone's names and sometimes calls people by the colors of their clothes, laughing as if they should take it as a cute joke.

Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.

That's okay.

It's not like fanboying over Blurr is Swerve's only passion.

He gets upset.

Then he gets mad and rips down all the posters.

Then he has no time to be angry because Swindle wants to launch Mechs into outer space and damn it, Jazz flies off the planet and doesn't fucking come back. The engineering department stays up nights trying to figure out where he's gone, but they can't.

Unlike Blurr, everybody loved Jazz.

Unlike Blurr, Jazz deserved every ounce of that love.

The ground beneath his feet is starting to shake.

At first, all that happens is panic. Everyone starts making a confused noise, someone assumes an earthquake.

A voice on the speakers says that everyone needs to evacuate immediately, but no one hears it because huge mechanical tentacles start coming through the windows and the whole building starts shaking, creaking and crumbling.

Sverve has seen the monsters humanity has to fight many times. But never this close. And their size leaves him absolutely terrified. These things are huge, they take up all visible space. And what's most damning is that they can break down the walls around Swerve like a fucking cookie.

He's gonna die. Oh god he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die here under this stupid rubble or get eaten or turned into one of the ugly bloody stains on the wall. His heart is doing a million beats a minute and his eyes are starting to sting. He tries to get to the emergency exit, but the door is blocked by one of the huge toothy creatures that is actively trying to get in.

Next to him, Swindle is shouting to someone on his comm, trying to sound louder than the rumble of the collapsing building and the hungry aliens.

The floor tilts at a very disturbing angle and Swerve grabs one of the interior doorways to stay in place. A second later, he reaches out and pulls Swindle, who has already slowly begun to slip toward the monster's huge hungry maw, to the same doorway.

Swindle grabs onto the frame of the door and Swerve at the same time. His glasses are cracked and his usually neat expensive coat is all dust and debris.

“It was a trap.”

Swerve can't hear a word over the grinding of breaking structures.

“What?”

Swindle almost slips and falls, but Swerve grabs him by the scruff of his coat and puts him back on his feet. Working in an assembly shop gives a man strong arms and right now he's very grateful for it.

Swindle makes a second, louder attempt

“It was a trap!!! All available pilots are now on the other side of the country! I've called for backup, but who knows how fast they'll get here.”

A smooth, silky voice comes from a walkie-talkie strapped to his coat.

“Ouch Swindle. So little faith in my professional skills?”

Swindle rounds his eyes

“Blurr??! Where are you!”

Blurr's voice sounds...not quite as it usually does. It's missing the habitual lazy note. The one that makes him sound like the whole world owes him money.

“Give me another minute and the answer will be 'here'.”

The building shakes again. Swindle swears so eloquently that Swerve can't help but admire it.

Swerve can't stand Blurr's smug face, but when he spots the first glimpse of blue metal in the window, joy floods his brain.

He usually associates Blurr with dumb nicknames, dismissive treatment, and commercials.

Now he watches the sleek, fast Mech lunge fearlessly at the monsters surrounding the building and thinks that. Fuck this. He's an asshole, but if he buys Swerve enough time to evacuate, he'll bring him a thank you card or something later. Though it's unlikely Blurr will care about that of course.

Swindle continues to shout instructions over the walkie-talkie. Swerve basically drags him outside by. He jumps up probably a full meter when very near him one of the monsters falls to the ground.

Blurr's Mech stands proudly on top of the fresh corpse and looks...actually really bad. Swerve knows that this particular robot was not built for rough, open confrontation. Its armor is too thin. Designed for speed and agility, not strength. He assembled it himself, after all.

Many of the plates are crumpled. Some are torn off. His legs are intact, but one of the joints sparks funny.

Blurr quickly looks around and Swerve unwittingly follows his example. The whole place is on fire. Office buildings are in ruins and a huge column of black smoke rises above the assembly plant.

Blurr's Mech drops to the ground and gets down on one knee. The plates on its chest are pulled aside and Blurr sticks his head out of the cockpit while simultaneously opening the visor on his helmet.

“Everyone okay?”

Swindle clutches the walkie-talkie

“The office areas are empty, but there still could be people left on the lower floors of the assembly plant. But we have no access there!”

Blurr drums his fingers quickly on the metal plate

“Fire?”

Swindle shrugs his dusty shoulders

“Something exploded at the bottom of the building. It's a real smelter down there.

Even if we send a Mech, it won't last more than a minute before it overheats. Or make the building collapse.”

Blurr's gaze becomes focused. Sharp. Swerve has seen that look many times on tough front line fighters like Jazz. On Blurr, never.

“'That's enough time for me.”

Swindle waves his hands

“Are you crazy?”

Blurr slaps his palm against the armor of his Mech

“This baby is light. Lighter than anything you've got! If anyone can do it without dropping the building, it's me. They make Mechs in the assembly hall, it's got high ceilings right?”

Swerve wants to snap. He wants to throw his hands up angrily and yell something along the lines of “you were literally there!”

Who else is down there on those lower floors??? Tailgate? Maybe Wheeljack? If something exploded, Wheeljack was definitely there. And probably closest to the explosion.

Swindle curses furiously, but retreats and runs off to give orders to someone else.

“”Be a hero if you want, but I'm not going in there. For all I know there could be melting metal in there instead of a floor! It's just not reasonable.”

Swerve's brain stumbles over that statement. Why...Swindle is acting like he's being forced to climb into that building too...?

Blurr looks nervous.

“You know what. Fine. I got it. Hey, you--”

And there it is. The good old namelesness.

Blurr pays no attention to Swerve's frowning face, nor his hands shaking with fear

“ You're familiar with those buildings. You know who was there and where to find them right? I need you to walk me through.”

Swerve feels the urge to snap again and this time doesn't hold it back

“If you cared about something other than yourself, you'd know this damn building and the people who work in it too and !”

“I don't fucking remember!” Blurr interrupts him.

Swerve doesn't have time to put anything in after that. Though a sarcastic comment is begging to be made.

Blurr quickly takes off his helmet and wipes the sweat off his forehead.

“I don't remember okay! This isn't a fad or posing or whatever else you think of me. This is what an accident can do to you if you miss a turn! I can't remember shit, okay?! Do you need a medical report?!”

Swerve just...stands there with his mouth open and probably looks like an idiot.

Blurr nervously tucks back his disheveled hair. The longer he talks, the faster he does it.

“Now. I know you don't want to die in a pit of fire. But I need your help to save them. Don't do anything, just take the map. I promise I won't let you die.”

He sounds determined. And holds out his hand to Swerve, silently inviting him to climb up onto the Mech.

His face is stained in sticky dust, his hair is an absolute mess, and his narrow palm is covered in streaks of soot. It's as if he's been dragged face down a muddy road.

He's. Very Handsome, Swerve thinks.

He takes his hand.

Blurr helps him up, pushes him into the space next to the pilot's seat, and closes the cockpit.

“Been inside a working Mech ever?”

Swerve clenches his hands nervously on the back of the seat

“No.”

The lights of the consoles around him come to life as Blurr puts on his helmet. The space around him hums. It's a strange noise. At once unsettling and calm.

Mech feels alive, he thinks. Then corrects himself. Blurr is mind-linked to this Mech. This Mech can technically be considered alive in a sense.

Blurr moves one of the monitors toward him and opens the map.

“Just mark the path here. Don't touch anything else. And hold on tight. I won't be going too fast anyway, but it'll be shaky.”

Swerve swallows nervously.

“Understood.”

After that, everything turns into motion. Watching the Mech work while being inside is mesmerizing.

Blurr doesn't say much, concentrating on the controls. His hands aren't shaking anymore, Swerve notices. Not even a little.

He steers the machine forward confidently and smoothly, dodging falling debris and avoiding the biggest pockets of fire without panic or hesitation.

He's also strictly following the path Swerve is laying out for him.

The air filtration system is doing well so far. Swerve can feel the smell of burning and the heat slowly creeping up, but it's bearable for now. For now.

They find a man on the nearside of the emergency exit.

Two more people a floor below. A small group stuck in the elevator.

Wheeljack's on the doorstep of his lab.

Blurr pulls them all out. Picks up the first group of people and carries them outside, goes back into the fiery furnace, finds more survivors, pulls them out, goes back, searches, rescues, goes back, searches, rescues.

The heat is coming up. Swerve can feel it. The plates around him are getting hot. The air smells like burnt wires.

Blurr’s Mech wasn't designed for this kind of thing.

His Mech was made to flash for the camera and accelerate to impossible speeds. To deceive and confuse the enemy. Its armor is thin and cools easily in the air, which usually helps it avoid overheating.

This also means that this Mech heats up very quickly as well.

Now, with the air around him feeling like a red-hot frying pan, Swerve regrets not saying anything back then. He regrets that he didn't make any changes to the blueprint.

More and more warnings pop up on the screens. The map stopped working correctly some time ago and Swerve is forced to give directions verbally.

He nervously grips the back of the pilot seat with one hand and, without noticing, Blurr's shoulder with the other.

Blurr carries two more people outside and hands them to the rescuers. Then turns back to the building again and. OH FUCK. Right in front of him, a huge crack begins to creep along the structure. This thing is on the verge of collapse. The roof is already starting to fold down in a very bad way.

Swerve clenches his grip fearfully and hears Blurr hiss through his teeth.

Suddenly, the cockpit opens. The fresh air of the street feels like a cold sledgehammer blow after the heat and stuffiness of the lower levels.

Swerve is about to ask something, but doesn't have time because Blurr uses Mech's hand to gently but quickly pull him outside and set him on the ground.

“You were going to mark another spot.”

Swerve nods hurriedly.

“Tailgate is still there.”

Blurr wrinkles his face.

Swerve corrects himself and clarifies

“Bright blue uniform. Short. Considering all the places we've been, I think he's in the staff quarters. It's...”

He chews his fingers, trying to remember numbers and directions without a map

“...two floors down, left, another floor down and straight ahead.”

As he speaks Blurr bends over the side of the open cockpit and spits...blood on the ground. His nose is bleeding, Swerve realizes. That's not good. It's a clear sign of a malfunctioning neural connection. Or damage to his respiratory system? Possibly both.

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his worried look

“Two down, left down then. Shit. Wait. Two down, left then down, straight ahead yeah?”

Swerve nods.

Blurr keeps repeating these directions like a mantra. A very fast and creepy mantra.

His gaze roams strangely and his breaths sound hoarse. His teeth and chin are covered in blood and his face is streaked with soot.

Swerve understands. He's about to do another go.

Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight.

Alone. He's going, and he's going to fry himself alive in there for a stranger he doesn't even remember.

Swerve doesn't have time to say anything. What's he gonna say? Stop? But he wants to save Tailgate? Go on, I believe in you? But it's certain death.

Swerve rarely has nothing to say, but this time he can't find the right words.

Blurr wipes the blood with his sleeve, wrinkles his nose, and storms off, heading back into the flaming mess the plant has become.

Not twenty seconds later, the roof collapses, spewing a huge cloud of smoke, ash, and fire into the sky.

Swerve wrinkles his shirt nervously in his hands.

The walls are still in place, right? If the roof is gone but the walls are still standing it's... it's. It's.

Damn it. He's trying to remember the blueprints. It means the ejector will work. It means Blurr can still get out through the top. That--

Blurr's not getting out. As the small, bright blue escape pod appears above the falling walls of the building, Swerve feels his brain stop. Remember the blueprints, remember the damn blueprints. The Mech is light, the design is compact, the space in the pod is for only one person.

In the capsule lies an unconscious Tailgate.

Swindle grasps the radio

“Blurr? BLURR!”

Swerve looks at the smoke and ash and feels numb. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He has to know. He doesn't...

He feels weird. The same kind of weird as when objects fly seemingly through him. Everything just stops being real.

The thought comes out of nowhere. You don't have to obey the rules. You can see more. Just look.

He's not sure how or why he's doing it.

No one around him is paying much attention to him. Everyone's busy with survivors and damage assessment or just stunned by the chaos.

And him? He disappears.

And then he appears at the bottom. Under the rubble.

All around him is ugly, molten and red-hot chaos, but he doesn't care anymore. He feels like whatever is happening is about to end and he just has to be in time. Time for him to find out.

Blurr's Mech lies crushed by the fallen roof. Its cockpit is open. A gaping hole where his chest was, the place where the escape pod had undocked.

Wall debris has pinned him in a crooked, grotesque pose.

Blurr is here. His legs are wedged between crumpled metal plates inside the cockpit, leaving him hanging upside down. His suit is charred. Half of his face is destroyed. It looks like a horrible bloody and burned mess. It's ugly and gruesome.

Blurr opens his only working eye and gives Swerve a cloudy look.

“I must be seeing things...”

Swerve shrugs in daze. He knows he shouldn't be here.

Blurr spits up a mouthful of blood

“I'm sorry I hurt you uh...”

“Swerve.”

“Yes. Swerve. It's hard for me to remember things unless they're...akgh...hell... not in my face all the time.”

Swerve moves closer and frowns

“You know, that explains but doesn't excuse you.”

Blurr closes his eye and coughs. That sounds really bad.

“No...I guess not.”

He huffs off the blood again. The burned half of his face is oozing with it. The blood runs down his forehead, collecting in a small puddle on the floor.

“It was better than letting everyone know what's wrong with me. I can't even begin to think about the amount of messes I'd be dragged into.”

Swerve notes that the fire seems to be getting closer.

This whole bit of dialog is so unnatural. Who even talks about that kind of stuff before they die. On the other hand. Well. Character development?

“So you think it's better to have everyone assume you're a jerk than that you got your head screwed on?”

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

“ You're a very specific kind of ghost.”

Swerve shoves his hands in his pockets and looks away

“I needed to know. Before you die.”

“That's ...akghhh...ha....it's good to know. Can you tell me something Swerve? As..agh...

As a last wish?”

Swerve shrugs again. He stares at the dripping blood. At the ugly, bubbling burns. At the burst vessels in his eye and the paths of blood from his bleeding nose. He looks at the broken and scorched and dying bloody mess.

He looks at Blurr.

And he thinks, until today, he didn't really love Blurr. Not with the posters and figurines. Not with the disdain and dislike.

He loved an image. And hated an image.

He reaches out and tries to touch Blurr's hand, but goes through it.

“I'm sorry. But we're both not really here. And I have to go.”

He can feel the cold metal around him, which is strange because he's standing in the middle of smoking and burning ruins

“But if it makes you happy, I guess you're my favorite character after all.”

Blurr doesn't answer. Swerve isn't sure he even heard him.

The feeling of metal around him grows sharper.

Someone shines a flashlight in his face.

Swerve blinks stupidly and tries to move away.

The unknown Autobot medic standing over him smiles happily and puts the flashlight away

“Welcome back. You've been in a coma Primus knows how long.”

The other medic to the side frowns

“You have zero tact.”

Swerve blinks his optics puzzled, raises his servo and for a while just stares at it like some movie character. All around him is an Autobot medbay. Metal walls. Metal instruments. And him. Metal.

Yes. Seems so. That's the way he's always been. That's right.

“Doc, you won't believe what kind of weird dream I had.”

___________

Swerve feels like he's going crazy.

He's standing in the middle of a hallway on one of the Autobot ships, and he's staring. shamelessly.

There's Prowl standing at the end of the hallway. And on his shoulder is...

“ JAZZ????”

Both bot and human turn around abruptly at his scream. And both look equally puzzled.

Jazz waves his hand

“Do I know you?”

Swerve is definitely going crazy. It's Jazz. The same one. From his...dream??? But he's real and tangible??? Sitting on Prowl's shoulder, talking and breathing and being seen by everyone not only Swerve????

“You're...real...?”

Jazz raises his eyebrows

“I am. Yes. Really Mech, you sound very familiar.

But I can tell you for a fact that I have not been friends with any Cybertronians before...”

This can't be, this can't be, this isn't....

It was a dream. The spawn of his TV series-addled mind. A hallucination. It wasn't real. It wasn't, was it?

But Jazz is here. And he disappeared from Earth. And now he's here.

And.

What the..

Swerve blurts out something like “sorry-sorry-see-you-later-now-I've got to go” and runs off.

“HEY DOC????”

The autobot, already familiar to him, flinches

“Primus...Swerve? Is something wrong?”

Swerve realizes that everything is about to either make sense or lose it completely.

“Tell me...is it possible to project a holoform...like...very far away?”

The Doctor tilts his head.

“Depends on power consumption. If you channel all the energy available in a frame, you can go very far. But that would send you into a...coma...if you...tried...Swerve, is there anything you'd like to tell me?”

“Doc do you know where Earth is?”

“Wha...no?”

Swerve chuckles nervously and bites his knuckles.

“I don't either. But I think I've been there...”

[xshadowdelta]

FORMER MANAGER

PART 5: PURITY.

Mashiro x Male Reader (4K length)

You observed your face in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, your messy hair, the marks of the sheets on your cheeks and some visible dark circles bordering your eyes, it definitely had not been your best night. You had barely slept, tossing and turning in bed all night while your head was spinning around the scene with Jang Wonyoung.

The image of her crying wouldn't disappear from your mind no matter how hard you tried, but how did this happen in the first place? The last memory you had of her was when you said goodbye years ago before returning home, back then she also cried, but this time it was totally different, her look of disappointment on you disturbed you even more than her tears.

You catched some water from the sink, throwing it over your face, trying to clear yourself up and wake up a little, because you had to continue with your life and your work, you would find a free time lapse to be able to fix this problem.

You showered, fixed your hair, and hid the traces of a terrible night on your face as well as you could before getting dressed and leaving your apartment heading to the company.

You arrived at the building where as soon as you entered, your boss was waiting for you, folder in hand, and while you both walked he explained the itinerary of the day and the schedule for the upcoming weeks. Kep1er’s members had returned from their last shows abroad, there had been a few changes at the management level, and a new comeback was already planned, so the work was going to be hard and intense.

Both of you stopped in front of one of the practice rooms, a light touch of your coworker knuckles on the door and you entered inside, a group of girls who were stretching stared at you.

“Good morning girls.” Your partner began to speak. “Before starting preparations for this new album I want to introduce you to your new full-time manager, starting on today he will take care of all of you and about everything you need.” He exclaimed, indicating for you to introduce yourself to them with a gesture of his hand.

You bowed them instantly. “Nice to meet you! I will be at your service from now on, I hope we get along well.” You said a little nervous, a feeling that disappeared when you saw the smiles and applause they offered you. “Nice to meet you, please treat us well!” They all said in unison bowing to you aswell.

"Good." Your boss interrupted. “The dance teacher will come right away to show you and start practicing the new choreographies, I hope the best from all of you. “Fighting!” He said with his fist, before handing you the information folder and leaving the room.

You watched him leave and when you looked back you jumped when you realized how the Kep1er girls had surrounded you, occupying any personal space you could have, their eyes analyzing you carefully.

"Hello!" One of them greeted with a huge smile on her face. “I'm the leader Yujin, nice to meet you, it's incredible, it's the first time I have such a young manager.” You smiled shyly, uncomfortable with the circle of people that had formed around you.

“Wow, can I call you oppa?” A girl with pink hair and rounded cheeks asked next to her, if you were not mistaken it was Kim Chaehyun, you nodded affirmatively at her question causing her to laugh.

You noticed that penetrating eyes were focused on you to the point that you realized that gaze was passing through you, you made eye contact with it, increasing your nervousness.

“Is something wrong, Xiaoting?” You asked softly making the mentioned girl blink a few times. “Do you know my name already?” She questioned surprised. “Our new manager has studied a lot!” Dayeon shouted, starting to laugh and causing the rest of the members to laugh.

“Look at his dark eyes, he sure hasn't been able to sleep all night!” Hikaru joked, releasing one of her particular laughs that resonated throughout the room, increasing the volume and joy of the rest of the members.

These girls were really loud and restless, they were going to give you a lot of headaches, yet a smile was drawn on your lips and for a while you forgot about the rest of your problems.

The dance teacher appeared and the morning passed with the girls memorizing and practicing the new choreographies, so you took the opportunity to go to your office to work on other aspects such as contacting the wardrobe team, making venue reservations where the filming would be done, hire the recording equipment.

The days went by and with the amount of work you had it was impossible to even think about Wonyoung. Your relationship with the members of Kep1er was improving and due to the characteristics of these girls, in just a week it seemed like you had been together since their debut, and that was something that relieved you and made everything much more enjoyable.

This day in question the girls would spend it in the recording studio, testing their vocals and recording the songs for the new album, so really your presence there was not very significant so your task for the day was to clean and organize everything in the house.

If you already hated doing housework, doing it in a home full of girls made you hate it excessively. A multitude of clothes scattered throughout the rooms, boxes and cardboard in every corner.

You were infinitely grateful to Bahiyyih for trying to keep the house in order, saving you some work, but the whirlwind that was Chaehyun Dayeon and Hikaru was simply unstoppable.

You finished off the apartment Yujin Bahiyyih Chaehyun and Xiaoting shared and headed upstairs to start cleaning the next one. You hadn't been there for long but there was a room that you had not yet accessed, it was a two-bed bedroom that did not belong to anyone in the group but that had serious signs of having been habited before, it was perfectly arranged and there were still clothes hanging in the closet.

You inspected said clothes, leaving them on one of the beds, you opened the drawers looking to know what, and this really had you confused.

“W-W-Who are you? What are you doing with my clothes?” A sudden voice surprised and scared you, almost making you fall on the bed when you turned to look at the door frame of the room, finding a small girl with brown hair and a rather cute appearance carrying a cardboard box in her hands, looking at you in a scared way.

“That's what I should ask, how did you get in here? The door has a password, and what's with your clothes?” You were trying to appear as calm as possible but you were really uneasy with that presence.

“Don't tell me…A SASAENG!” You both shouted at the same time, pointing your fingers at each other.  "WHAT? ME?" Now your fingers were pointing towards yourselves.

“It's over I'm going to call the police.” The girl said, dropping the box and taking her mobile phone out of her pants pocket.

“That's exactly what I'm going to do, look at this.” You said, taking out the company ID, surprising the girl.

"Huh?"

.

.

.

.

“I'm sorry again, I had no idea you were the new manager.” The girl said with her head down, looking at the ground, feeling guilty for the previous misunderstanding.

“The mistake was mine for not having recognized you before, Mashiro-shi.” Now you knew who this room belonged to.

Apparently, and after left the grou, both Mashiro and Yeseo had been terribly busy with their new group and their own activities that they had been coming and going to the house making small moves of their things. However some things of their property were still there.

“If you need help with your…”

“Oh no no, please, I'm sure you're very busy, I don't want to bother you.” She commented, making notable gestures with her hands. You smiled at how adorable that was.

“The rest of the members say that you and Yeseo will continue to be part of Kep1er forever…” You commented, bending down to pick up the cardboard box from the floor and put it on the bed, opening it. “So now I'm also your manager, okay Mashiro-chan?” You smiled warmly at her causing her cheeks to turn a deep pink color.

“O-O-Okay” She agreed shyly, approaching you and helping you pack more clothes from her closet.

Together you cleared out the closet and packed all the clothes, and you organized the rest of the room and cleaned it. You glanced at Mashiro from time to time, even with that strange first impression you had with her, you really thought she was a super adorable girl. Her small stature, her beautiful face and the dimples that were marked on her cheeks reaffirmed it.

“What do you think of the members?” She asked casually while doing her task, your gaze drifted towards the ceiling, sketching a slight smile after a few seconds of thought.

“Noisy.” You responded simply causing her to giggle, covering her mouth with one of her hands.

“I understand you perfectly.” She supported you.

“But they are really amazing.” You continued. “They spend the day laughing and making a fuss but they don't lower the effort they put into their practices one bit, sometimes I envy them. I would also like to enjoy my work like they do.” Out of the corner of my eye you could notice a small smile melancholy on her face, so you decided not to say anything else and continue with the cleaning.

You walked over to one of the nightstands next to one of the beds to open the drawers, see what they kept and see if there was anything else that needed to be packed.

“Don't open that!” Mashiro screamed hysterically, throwing herself on the bed trying to stop you but you had already opened the drawer. You looked at her confused, even more so when she threw her hands over her face trying to hide herself, while her ears turned red.

You looked down, looking at the vibrator that was inside the drawer, blushing too and quickly moving away, falling on your ass to the floor.

"I'm sorry."  You whispered embarrassed, unable to look up, noticing how your face was burning.

“Noooooo…how embarrassing.” Mashiro sobbed, rolling on the bed. You grabbed a lock of your hair, analyzing the situation, looking for the right words for a moment like this.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of Mashiro, it is something totally normal for someone your age and…Mashiro?” You were absorbed as you looked up to see directly at the girl who was still sobbing, covering her face with one hand, while the other was now rubbing her crotch over her pants. So those sounds weren't sobs, they were moans.

You saw how she relaxed her body and lie down on the bed. The hand that covered her face no longer did so, she was now looking at you clearly, intently, a look very different from what you had seen from her before.

“It has been such a hard, stressful and emotional weeks. Leaving one group to enter another, new members, comeback, and performances. Even now all the responsibility of being a leader falls on my shoulders.”

“Mashiro…” Your words were interrupted by a new moan.

“And I forgot my stress reliever during the move, I tried using my fingers but they didn't have the same effect…” You turned your gaze to the vibrator and took it in your hands, Mashiro's eyes did not take their eyes off the device. You turned it on, listening to the vibrations it produced, making Mashiro groan in despair.

“You said before that you were also my manager…” The Japanese girl began to say. “So, I need your help, manager oppa, please…” You swallowed after hearing that request of deep need in her tone of voice.

You stood up and approached the bed, sitting on the edge near Mashiro, who lowered the zipper of her sweatshirt a little, revealing a bit of the shirt she was wearing underneath and then, moving against the bed, she managed to lower her pants until her underwear was visible.

“You are very wet Mashiro-chan.” You commented looking at the huge stain that had appeared on her panties. “You really are so needy…”

She didn't respond but she brought her hand back to where the stain was now, caressing herself again with circular movements, closing her eyes enjoying her own touch.

When she stopped she opened her eyes to look deeply at you, eyes that were screaming for your help. You sighed and got even closer to her body, vibrator in hand, gently bringing it to her desired area, coming into contact causing Mashiro's back to arch due to excitement.

“Yes, please…” She continued asking needily.

You pushed aside the fabric of her panties, visualizing her wonderful pink pussy completely flooded that was crying out for pleasure.

The sex toy now caressed Mashiro's folds mercilessly, forcing her to moan loudly, her eyes closed again enjoying the waves of pleasure that ran through her body.

That scene was fucking erotic for you, so much so that a huge bulge peeked out from between your pants. With your free hand you managed to free that bulge from outside your clothes, however it was somewhat difficult to satisfy both of you at the same time.

A naughty idea crossed your mind. If you were busy offering pleasure to Mashiro she was free to give it to you, so you took her hand closest to you and placed it around your cock.

Upon feeling that she opened her eyes again, offering you a small smile when she knew your intentions, grabbing your penis tightly and beginning to move her hand up and down constantly.

“Oppa hentai…” She whispered, biting her lip, watching how she was masturbating you.

“It's your fault in the first place…” You responded, emitting the occasional small moan caused by her touch, and lowering the zipper of her sweatshirt completely with your free hand, allowing yourself to caressing her stomach and her hips.

You threw the vibrator to the side of the bed and began to caress her pussy with your own hand, separating her folds with your fingers and inserting a couple of them inside causing a squeal of surprise from her.

“Shit oppa…it feels so good…”

“A girl as adorable as you talking so dirty.” You said increasing the pace of your caresses on her pussy, feeling how your hand became wet with Mashiro's fluids.

“You love when I talk dirty, right oppa?” She asked continuing the caresses on your penis. “It hasn't stopped growing…”

You smiled, leaning over her body, placing a few kisses across her bare stomach. She released her grip on your cock to allow you to position yourself more comfortably on top of her, slipping your hands under her shirt touching everything within reach.

Mashiro slowly melted under your body, moaning louder and louder as your fingers caressed her tits. She was breathing heavily and her hair fell over her forehead giving it an even sexier touch, her entire face was flushed and hot.

Due to the constant movement of your bodies on each other there was a moment where your cock rubbed against Mashiro's pussy, tensing her body and placing her hands against your chest, pushing you away slightly.

You raised an eyebrow in confusion, realizing how hot this whole scene had become and how you had gotten carried away with it.

“I'm sorry if I…

“I have only used that vibrator… I have never had anything inside me beyond my fingers, I am completely a virgin.” She admitted, looking away embarrassed.

"It’s okay." You whispered softly, offering her a smile, caressing her right cheek with your hand. She took your hand and let herself be caressed by you.

“It's really strange and we just met...but I feel very comfortable with you, oppa. Although I don't think I'm ready to cross that line yet, I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to apologize for anything.”  You leaned your head over her, kissing her lips, being instantly reciprocated by her, lightly biting her lower lip, drawing a moan from her and allowing your tongue to explore every corner of Mashiro's mouth.

“Oppa.” A thread of saliva separated your mouth from Mashiro's. “I need an orgasm.”

You smiled, recovering the vibrator lost in some corner of the bed, activating it again, this time with more power making the girl's body tremble.

“OH FUCK!” Squeals and moans came non-stop from the idol's mouth as you rubbed the toy again and again over her weak area.

You alternated the vibrator with the caresses that you provided with your hands. You lay down on the bed next to Mashiro without stopping masturbating her, she quickly took your cock again with one of her hands and now you were both pleasuring each other.

You inserted two of your fingers inside her completely tight pussy, stretching it slightly feeling her walls contract against your fingers. The girl's hips moved unconsciously as the moans did not stop and her grip on your cock tightened.

You then stroked her clit with your thumb, which was like touching the self-destruct button on Mashiro's body. You touched and pressed her clit as much as you could until her back arched again and a huge scream escaped her mouth.

Her body hit the mattress again, her chest rising and falling excitedly. It took her a few seconds to catch her breath and recover from that orgasm, she turned to look at you and you quickly wiped away some tears that were now flowing from her eyes with your hand.

“God…you're better than any toy, oppa.” Despite continuing to pant, her smile was wide, she laughed at herself for the situation she found herself in.

You laughed, also flattered but somewhat embarrassed by her comment. You tried to get up to get out of bed but Mashiro immediately stopped you and forced you to lie down, surprising you with her sudden reaction.

“Wait, you're not done yet.” She said and then you looked down at your penis.

“Please let me help you, oppa.” Mashiro demanded in distress, because she had been able to free herself thanks to your touch and you, on the other hand, were still hard.

How were you going to refuse that, you thought, lowering the clothes that covered your lower area to your ankles, leaving your member in full view. Mashiro was stunned to see it like that.

“It's even bigger…” She whispered, wrapping her hand around it again, beginning to cover it completely and therefore starting the massage.

You let out a moan and bit your lip. Under normal conditions it would take you long enough to cum to get a long treatment, but the hard work of these last few days had taken its toll on you too. You hadn't downloaded for days, even weeks, and none of the Iz*One girls had crossed your path during this time, so you and your friend were especially sensitive at the moment.

That Mashiro was inexperienced was obvious, not only because she had confessed to being a virgin, it was obvious that it was the first time she had masturbated someone.

She did it delicately but nervously, her hand trembled on your cock, so you decided to help her, placing one of your hands on hers, guiding her on top of you. This helped her to calm down and gain confidence, copying the rhythm that you were setting.

You moved your hand away once you saw her more prepared and in response to that she wrapped her other hand around your penis as well.

Now both of the girl's hands were working on your erect dick, covering the entire length between them, with slow and delicate movements that made you shudder.

Your moans began to get uncontrolled due to her touch, giving her more and more encouragement and causing the pace of masturbation to increase.

Her two hands worked now at high speed on your penis, with enveloping movements, noticing how it swelled and began to tremble.

“Shit...Mashiro-chan I'm about to...” You couldn't finish the warning when the first shot was propelled upwards, surprising the girl by seeing that white liquid escape from the tip of your penis.

After the first, the rest of the shots followed, progressively decreasing the intensity with each one until finally there was not a single drop left inside you.

Mashiro's hands raised the skin of your penis one last time, observing the brilliance that the tip of your penis now offered. Finally she let you go and you were able to sit up on the bed, seeing the mess that had formed on your abdomen, now covered in your own sperm.

You diverted your gaze towards Mashiro whose eyes did not stop observing that increasingly sticky area.

You moved your hand towards it, taking some of the sperm with your fingers and looked back at the girl, who now looked back at you.

"Do you want to try it?" You asked, smiling sideways, sneaking into her thoughts. She did not utter a word due to shyness and embarrassment but nodded affirmatively.

You brought your fingers closer to her face and she closed her eyes, opening her mouth, allowing you to insert them inside, licking and tasting your seed. Her tongue moved between your fingers, wetting them but absorbing all the liquid they were impregnated with.

She opened her mouth again for you to remove your fingers and you looked at each other.

"It is...you are...you taste delicious..." She admitted self-consciously but happy and satisfied. “C-C-Can I take some more?”

A few seconds later you had Mashiro leaning over you licking all the remains of sperm that were on your abdomen and thighs. That was making you hard again but you knew you had a line that you must not to cross.

The idol's tongue cleaned you completely, savoring every last bit of liquid she could get, repeating to herself how delicious it tasted. Once she was over with you, you left the room for a moment to go to the bathroom, cleaning yourself and put your clothes back on properly, when you returned Mashiro was also dressed.

You inserted the vibrator into the cardboard box, camouflaged between several layers of clothing, and took it into your arms, despite the girl's insistence that she could carry the box.

You went down together to the street, parked there was one of Mashiro's new group's cars waiting to pick her up.

"Thanks for everything, manager oppa." Mashiro smiled sweetly at you.

"Keep this between us, okay?" She nodded briskly heading to the car, turning around before opening the door.

"I'll think about you the next time." Those words caught you off guard, making you blush.

You watched as the car disappeared into the distance of the street, blending into the traffic. You sighed and walked back up the stairs to the apartment, there was still a lot to clean.

Just when you were about to grab the broom again the phone in your pocket started ringing, you picked up after reading the name of the caller and brought it to your ear.

“Finally, I only had to call you 7 times to get a callback.” You heard a sleepy yawn from the other side.

“I've been non-stop for months, many performances, shootings, ceremony awards, and exhausting trips, you know. I deserved a good restful sleep…of 14 hours.”

“Of course, we must keep the star Ahn Yujin in good condition.” Your laughter dissipated as you took a more serious tone. “I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I know. See you in like 1 hour? I will send you the location.”

“Sure, see you.”

You hung up the call and heaved a long sigh, rushing to get all the work done. You had a date in an hour.

[tswiftupdatess]

Taylor Swift talking about working on The Eras Tour, re-recording, performing with a broken heart and the joy and safety the Tour brings to fans at The Eras Tour Book:

“I'll never forget the call when I explained my idea of the concept for The Eras Tour to my team. At the time, I was working on the Midnights album and if we were to do what I've always done, I would've embarked on planning The Midnights Tour. But there's nothing I hate more than doing what I've always done.

“We're going to call it The Eras Tour and each album will have its own chapter, it's own world.” I told them that I want to fully commit to each era, musically, stylistically and aesthetically. They should feel like time capsules. If we do this right, I said, we can celebrate and honor both new fans and fans who have been here from day one.

It had been 6 years sice I'd toured. In those 6 years, a lot had transpired for me creatively. I release Lover, folklore, evermore, and eventually Midnights. In another real of my priorities was my passion project: re-recording my first 6 albums that were sold away from me by my former record label. Reclaiming my past made me fall back in love with it. Revisiting that past work made me want to honor it and honor what the fans had done for me with the Taylor's Version albums. And so the new albums and my re-records left me with the dilemma: HOW on Earth are we going to play all of this music live? I decided to create the longest, most ambitious show I'd ever even attempted. Averaging at 3 hours and 15 minutes, with 45 songs played. My goal was for every fan to leave that show knowing I gave them absolutely everything I had. I made a promise to myself to be physically and mentally tougher than I ever had been before. To be more disciplined and commited to my health, fitness, and stamina. Thankfully, I'm surrounded by my incredible crew, band, singers, and dancers who all matched my dedication to the massive scale and challenges of this show. We would go on to play this show in the pouring rain, in the blazing heat, in the thickest humidity, in the wildest winds, and in the bitter cold. We would do it if we were sick or exhausted or injured. We would do it with a broken heart. We do this because we love having the rare opportunity to create happiness and wonder up on that stage. We do it because we know it takes time and effort and money and energy to plan out coming to a concert. We do it because every friendship bracelet traded has the potential to become a new friend, and you never know what dreams can be sparked if we succeed in painting a dreamscape in every city we visit. We do it because people need an escape from how brutal life can be, and it is the honor of a lifetime to be that for them, if only for a night. And although we are all on our own in this big scary life, somehow it doesn't feel that way when we're singing the same words as 80,000 other people wearing glittery face paint. We do it because life comes in waves, in phases, in brilliant flurries of magical moments, and all of these things come together to create…Eras.

Here is the official retrospective of the most wondrouds tour of my life, my beloved Eras Tour.

See you next era..”

(November 29, 2024)

[97kuu]

ONLY ON CAMERA

Part 2 ( soon )

summary; Jungkook and you keep your sexual relationship a secret—until his friends from the 97 line start betting on who can win you over first. Feeling jealous, he pulls you into a private room at the next awards show, claiming you as his. As he sends a video to the group chat, he makes it clear that you belong to him.

Au; fwb! Secrete rleationship au! ! Jungkookidolau! Readerpopularidolau!

wc 2k

warnings; slight plot, fwb, creamp^e, Riding, dirtyt^lk, descriptive s^x, mi^^ionary, lotus, recording, dub-con, time skips, a bet is placed, public S^x, rushed s^x, facial, q^ickie, clothed s^x, mentions of sweat. Slight manipulation on Jks part,

Edited

In the lotus position on the bed, Jungkook leans forward, drawing you even closer as he wraps his arms securely around your waist. Your chest is at the perfect level, allowing him to lower his head slightly and take a nipple into his mouth. His lips move with a mix of tenderness and intensity, eyes occasionally flicking up to meet yours, watching as you ride his cock in utter pleasure.

Your hands find their place on his shoulders, head falling slowly back as he grips your waist and you moan in ecstasy. Jungkook had what was no doubt the best cock you've had being in this industry and therefore had no difficulty changing plans and meeting at night at his or a random rental car for the hour. He was girthy, he had a good length that wasn't small nor too long. He curved slightly so that when you moved onto your knees and pushed him slightly back to lay down, you could ride him and he would automatically tease your G-spot with ease.

Crossing his arms behind his head, he watched as placed your hands on his chest. Applying pressure as you rocked your hips back and forth creating short waves of movement against him.Biting softly on his pierced bottom lip, Jungkook’s dark eyes locked with yours, a hint of mischief in his gaze. Slowly, he lowered his hands from behind his head, bringing them to rest on your hips. His fingers gripped you firmly yet tenderly, guiding your movements with practiced ease. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver up your spine as he leaned in slightly, his breath mixing with yours.

“You have no idea how amazing you look right now,” he breathes out, voice laced with desire. Listening to those words and that deep groan of his as your hips crashed down, followed by the arch of your back was utterly heaven to him.

“I could watch you like this forever,” he groans, barely holding back. His words sent a rush through you, making your body respond instinctively as you quickened your pace, completely overtaken by his voice. “That’s it, keep going—you’re taking me so well,” he encouraged his tone deep and approving, fueling your movements even more.

His grip tightness, he holds helps grind down on him harder as his precum spews inside of you without knowing. He sat up abruptly, tilting his head back in pleasure as you wrapped your arms tightly around his back. The light sensation of your touch sent him over the edge, and he released himself with deep, resonant groans, eyes squeezed shut as the feeling consumed him.

“Mmm, make yourself come on me, baby. I want to feel you using it as lube,” he instructed, panting as he moved to wrap his arms around your back, guiding your movements on his still-hardened length.

One thing you always noticed was that despite his high-trained stamina allowing him to go for endless rounds when he was on top, the moment you took control, it was as if his body couldn’t handle the intensity of the pleasure. It made him release quickly yet remain at his peak, ready for more. When you asked him why, he’d simply say, “That’s how attracted I am to you. You make me want to go for round after round.”

He lusted deeply after you, both when you were with him and when he could release the pent-up sexual frustration you sparked. It was the result of teasing voice messages where you’d moan his name and beg him to make you feel good. Even when alone, he found himself watching fan-made videos of your chest moving or replaying secret moments from nights spent in public places where you tried to stay silent as he thrust into you.

You were the idol that many men craved, even some of his friends, which made him both possessive and proud. The mutual desire between you quickly escalated from casual encounters to a full-fledged friends-with-benefits situation. It was a fitting label, though it never extended beyond the walls of the rooms or buildings where you met. The secrecy only heightened the thrill, making every moment that much more intoxicating.

Riding him in his apartment felt even more thrilling knowing that there were people who could potentially see or hear the sounds of his moans and the way your body surrendered to the pleasure he gave you.

The thought of being risky, even in the most mundane places, made you drip down his length, coating him as your core burned with the need for release. Your brows knitted together, eyes glazing over with pleasure as you bounced harder, driven by the rhythm of your racing heartbeat.

You couldn’t stop, couldn’t keep your gaze on him, and he loved that—wanted it, craved to see you unravel under his dark, intense stare. It was the same lowered gaze he had when he was serious or angry, and it always drove you to the edge, pushing you into a blissful orgasm. Your body moved on its own, continuing until it was completely satisfied with him buried deep inside, lost in a zone of euphoria.

As the rhythmic convulsions of your core squeezed and released around him, Jungkook groaned and hissed from the mix of pleasure and a touch of pain as you tightened around him. Watching you come undone on top of him, hips moving in slow, languid circles, drove him wild. His hands found your nipples, rubbing them in circles, knowing it would send waves of pleasure shooting down your body as he watched you consumed in ecstasy.

“Keep it up, baby. Your body feels too good, and I’m gonna use you how I want, making you cum until you can’t take it anymore,” he grunted, gripping your back and shifting you beneath him as he moved into missionary.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, he let out a growl of frustration and desire before you spread your legs wider for him, fully exposed and ready. He thrusts into you with an urgent need, pounding into you while you are still in the throes of that blissed-out, high state. The feeling was overwhelming, intense, like a rush that made the world spin, but it wasn’t anything other than him—just Jungkook, taking you deeper into that intoxicating pleasure.

As he thrusts, his voice low and steady says “That’s it, just like that… you’re so good for me.”The thrusts were deep but slow, each movement deliberate and controlled. He pushed inside with a steady force, every inch filling you, but it was the rhythm that drove the sensation. He’d pull back, almost completely, only to slide back in, slow and full, making sure each thrust hit the deepest part of you. The pace was measured, heavy, and purposeful, allowing the intense sensation to build gradually. His body moved with almost agonizing slowness, savoring each moment before he filled your cunt with warm oozing cum.

Pulling out, he placed a kiss on your chest and reached for the rag he placed prior to the bed to clean you up a bit, before helping escort you to take a shower with him. After all, you both were still close and were still a gentleman at heart.

A week later, jungkook was Jungkook sat at the bar, his hand wrapped around a cold bottle of Kloud, the rich, dark beer perfectly complementing the night’s relaxed yet lively atmosphere. He and some of his friends decided to get drinks in the middle of the night a few days before award season would begin in less than a few days.

Slightly stressed, but enjoying the night with a few people at a table he admitted the amber hue of the liquid glistening under the soft overhead lights as he tipped the bottle back, taking a long, deliberate sip. The slightly bitter, malty flavor settled on his tongue as he leaned casually against the counter, his eyes flicking between the conversations of his friends beside him.

The faint hum of music and low chatter filled the space, but he remained calm and composed, occasionally smirking at a joke or nodding in agreement. The way he held the beer, with confidence and ease, mirrored his grounded energy, even as the night buzzed around them.

“maybe somewhere towards the back” a familar voice, came closer.

Jungkook was mid-conversation, his voice steady and composed, when he suddenly heard it—the distinct tone of your voice cutting through the ambient noise of the bar. It was unmistakable, a sound that made his chest tighten and his face heat up. His reaction was immediate, a subtle flush creeping up his neck, but thankfully, the lively chatter around him gave him the perfect excuse to play it off.

He tilted his head slightly, pretending to adjust his seat, but his ears stayed tuned to you. And then it happened—your eyes locked with his. In that split second, it was like the world around him dulled, the electricity of your gaze grounding him and making his pulse race. His breath hitched, and he quickly glanced away, masking the flush creeping up his neck with a casual smirk and a deliberate sip of his beer. His grip on the bottle, however, betrayed him, tightening as if anchoring himself.

Leaning back in his chair, he took another measured sip, forcing his expression to remain neutral. His heart thudded against his ribs, but he played it off effortlessly, as though he hadn’t just felt the room tilt. To anyone watching, he seemed completely composed, but inside, the tension lingered—your presence pulling at him, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. After all nobody, not even the clolsesf of people here knew you hooked up once in a while or frequintly and he wanted to keep it that way. He wanted to keep it a secrete.

Playing it off he Tilted his drink slightly in your direction, Jungkook made a subtle point point with the bottom of his beer mug toward your table. “There,” he said under his breath, low enough that only his closest friend could catch it. It was an understated motion, almost unnoticeable, but the seriousness in his tone had his friends following his lead, their glances fleeting compared to the way his lingered. Still, Jungkook turned back quickly, focusing on his beer as if the moment hadn’t unraveled him entirely.

“Isn’t that good timing, don’t you think? Maybe she sensed good-looking guys were here and dragged a few friends along,” one of the 97-liners said, his eyes lazily trailing over your figure. “She’s got that type of body that makes you stop and stare—dangerous curves.”

“Maybe,” Jungkook replied, his tone cool but clipped as he sipped his beer. He didn’t even look their way, trying to keep his reaction locked down. “Then again, didn’t we only come here because someone said it was safer than most places?”

“You’re telling me you didn’t notice those legs when she walked in?” another chimed in, leaning forward with a wolfish grin. His eyes lingered shamelessly on your body, tracing every curve as if undressing you with his gaze. “She’s putting on a show with those hips, man. I swear, the way that dress clings to her? It’s like she wants us to imagine what’s underneath. Bet it’s a fucking masterpiece.”

He leaned back, biting his lip as his gaze dipped lower, voice thick with hunger. “Everything about her screams trouble—the good kind. Those thighs, that ass… fuck, I’d let her ruin me and thank her for it.”

Jungkook’s grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles whitening as he kept his face carefully neutral. “You could try,” he said smoothly, setting his drink down with a subtle but audible thud, “but do you even know how many confessions she’s probably gotten? Are we even talking about the same girl here?”

“Well then,” the first guy interjected with a sly smile, “how about we make it a challenge? Bet and put respect on the man’s name who can get her in bed first. Before the end of the next award show. I’ll put 3 mil on it.” His smirk widened as he added, “She looks like the type to put up a fight, but I wouldn’t mind breaking her in.”

The crude remark made Jungkook’s jaw clench. He leaned back in his chair, masking his rising anger. “20 mil,” he said flatly, his voice a low challenge that silenced the table. His eyes flicked to the speaker, daring him to take it further.

“Oh, 20 mil?” one of them scoffed, leaning back with an amused look. “You sure you’re not overestimating yourself here, man? She doesn’t seem like the type to just give it up so easily.”

He glanced over at you again, eyes lingering on the way your dress barely clung to your body, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “But I get it… she’s got that innocent look, like she’s just waiting to be taken. You know, the kind of girl who might act all shy at first, but when she’s alone with you? She’s a fucking firestorm.”

He leaned in closer, voice dropping lower. “She’s probably the type who’ll beg for it—wanting you to take control, needing it like air. She wouldn’t last long, though. I bet once you’ve got her where you want her, she’ll ride you till she can’t move, totally at your mercy, just how you like it.”

He chuckled, watching Jungkook carefully. “But hey, I could be wrong… maybe you can’t pull that off. In which case, I’ll be happy to take my winnings and her home myself.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smirk, but inside, his blood was boiling. The idea of them imagining your body, let alone thinking they had a chance with you, made his possessiveness surge. They didn’t know the things he did—how your body reacted to his touch, the sounds you made when he pushed you past your limits, the way you looked at him when you fell apart.

But he didn’t speak, just took another long sip of his drink, letting their words wash over him as he planned his exit. Their laughter rang in his ears, but his thoughts were consumed by one simple truth: They can talk all they want, but she’s already mine.

M.list. This was a requested plot

[maddiethedogstories]

Thanksgiving at his Family's House

"Sorry, sweetie! Brandon didn't tell us he was bringing a guest! This is the only chair we have left! I'm just so happy that you're such a tiny little thing, that you fit!" Your boyfriend's mom told you as she slid the tray of the high chair in place.

At least you got to sit next to Brandon, you thought to yourself as you looked at the crowded room filled with the unfamiliar faces of your boyfriend's relatives.

It would have been nice if Brandon could have warned his family he was bringing you. It would have been nice if he would have had the time of dinner right. Maybe if you had been on time or his mom was forewarned, you wouldn't be dressed in your holiday best, locked in a high chair, waiting for Brandon to make you a plate like a toddler.

But, you weren't going to make a fuss and risk a bad impression the first time meeting his family. And you were glad you didn't.

As dinner went on, you found yourself happily chatting with all of Brandon's family members. They were all so kind and interesting that you totally forgot your childish seating arrangement.

As you chatted away with Brandon's sister, a 27-year-old woman just a few years your senior, you didn't even mind when he left, saying he was going to play football in the backyard.

At least, you didn't mind until all of the delicious food you had been eating started to make its way through your body.

"Hey, do you think you could let me out so I can help clean up?" You asked your boyfriend's sister timidly as you started to notice mother nature running it's course through your bladder and bowels.

"Of course not, sweetie! You're our guest! Make yourself comfortable! No cleaning for you," she said as she cleared your plate and utensils off the tray of your highchair.

You turned to Brandon's mother, hoping for help from her as a cramp rocked your body.

"Um, ma'am, could you let me out? I'd like to keep getting to know you all and don't want to be stuck at the table," you asked politely.

Your boyfriend's mother grinned.

"Oh, sweetie! You don't have to get out of your seat for that! I'll just roll you into the kitchen so you can talk with us while we clean!"

You blushed as the larger woman easily tipped the high chair back on its small wheels and rolled you into the kitchen.

You gripped your stomach and squeezed your thighs together as best you could as his mother and sister spoke with you while doing dishes.

However, after a little time, the sound of running water in the sink and the pressure of the large dinner you ate became too much. With zero fanfare, your bladder and bowels released at once, destroying your panties and cute holiday skirt.

Tears immediately pooled in your eyes at the humiliation of what had just happened. You were trying to plan a way out of the situation when Brandon's sister turned from the sink, and her gaze fell on you.

"What's wrong?" She asked just as the smell hit her. "Oh! Oh, no! Why didn't you tell us you needed to?" She asked rhetorically, letting the last words of her question drop off.

Tears began to roll down your cheeks in earnest.

The slightly older woman leaped into action immediately at your obvious distress. She whispered in her mom's ear then rescued you from your plastic prison. She easily lifted you onto her hip like an infant, embarrassingly smushing the mess in your panties into you, and carried you to an upstairs bedroom, decorated for a young girl.

"Don't worry, sweetie, we'll get you all fixed up and know one will be the wiser!"

Your boyfriend's sister expertly stripped you of your clothes and produced another holiday outfit, this time a red dress that looked a little big for you. She also pulled a large, white diaper out of a dresser.

You were too embarrassed to protest or ask questions as she had you lay on the bed and diapered you. You then meekly raised your arms as she pulled the dress over your head.

You spun for her at her command. She clapped her hands together, satisfied.

"Perfect! And no one else has to know! If anyone asks, I just thought you would look amazing in this cute little dress I used to wear to Thanksgiving in middle school, and you agreed to change!"

You nodded your head obediently, ready to agree to any story other than the truth.

"And, if you have any other little, um, accidents," your boyfriend's sister said conspiratorially, "just let me know, and your new big sister will be more than happy to take care of you again."

You blushed, but nodded your head in affirmation meekly, not ready to piss off the woman who just helped you after watching you mess yourself in a highchair.

She led you back into the rest of the house, where the rest of the family was now gathered together watching football. Brandon's mom gave you an empathetic look as you carefully walked over to your boyfriend and sat next to him.

"Hey, baby," he said, making your face turn as red as your dress, "Cute outfit! My sis is letting you borrow her clothes? I told you that she'd love you!"

You just snuggled into him and made a non-committal noise.

The rest of the night went blessedly smoothly. Everyone socialized amiably, updating each other on the happenings in their lives before it was time to leave. You were only reminded of the events earlier in the day twice, when Brandon's sister asked if you needed any more 'help.'

As you left for the night, his sister made sure to give you the last hug. She let her hand drift down your back and onto your padded rear-end, squeezing it before announcing to the rest of the family, "I've always wanted a baby sister, and I'm so happy my little brother has seemed to find me the perfect one! I can't wait to see you at Christmas!"

The rest of the family cheered in agreement as you walked out the door to the car, your boyfriend beaming at how much everyone loved you. You, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel like you were going to learn to dread holidays with his family as you let a little trickle of urine into the diaper wrapped between your legs.

[liiixsturniolos]

"Pretty..little..noises.."

in which... rapper!chris has a little kink.. for singer!readers moans, wanting to add them into the background of his songs, he has to make you moan just how he wants too.

warnings!: smut (p in v unprotected.. wrap it b4 ya tap it guys!), moaning kink.

Chris always loved your voice, especially when you sang, often even begging you to sing him to sleep. He even put you on his songs, the fans' favourite duo, he claimed your voice was angelic. But more than that, his bigger obsession, the sound of your beautiful, sweet moans, he has a thing for it, I guess you could say. You'd tease him with it too, moaning into his ear in a public place and watching a tent grow up in his pants just from a quiet whisper...

He loved the whines and whimpers that would flow out of your mouth when he fucked you. It was his favourite part of it, the uncontrollable melodies that spewed out of your gorgeous mouth. He took pride in knowing he made you feel like that and wished he could show everyone, and maybe he could...

An idea sprung into his head one night, with you led next to him. He tapped his fingers onto your shoulder to wake you up, "what..?" You groaned awake. "I have an idea.." he mumbles cautiously, explaining his perverted little plan to film a sex tape, in which he'd use your moans in his newest song.

You accept happily, loving the concept of this slightly insane idea, letting Chris take off your panties, set up his phone beside you and start a voice recording.

"kay baby, lemme' hear those pretty little noises," he mutters, lining himself up with your gap, sliding slowly inside of your warm walls. You start to whimper at the feeling of him inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He pumps himself inside of you, your moans getting raspier and louder. "Yes-f-fuck baby moan f'me." He tells you.

Speeding up his pace, he thrusts into you ruthlessly, aiming to make you moan as loud and pornographically as he could, which you do, letting out a high pitched moan, rolling back your eyes and shouting his name, as you come to your high "fu-fuckkk c-hris.." you stutter out, both of your simultaneous releases pouring out from you suddenly.

"Perfect, darling." He says, pulling out of your leaking pussy, and stopping the audio recording, "You did so good baby." He tells you with a slightly smirky smile.

Weeks later as his new song drops, fans notice the faint ad-lib noises playing in the back of his rap verse, and question it on instagram live... to which he responds with a soft giggle, and pulls his hands around your waist, sitting you onto his lap.

thanks for reading darlings! consider interacting, so I can keep posting more of these! Feel free to ask to join my taglist too! <𝟑

taglist: @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @pvssychicken @ivysturnss @chrisfavoritewhore @mattsbitchh @sturniolo-fann @matts-myloverboy @emely9274 @sophand4n4 @uncannyguava

[rebelliousstories]

Rain Check

Relationship: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of a Case involving a Child (No Mentions of Death)

Word Count: 1,672

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Summary: When the team gets called out of town the day before Thanksgiving, Aaron has to beg for forgiveness from his wife. But the next week they’re home, he learns that he shouldn’t have felt guilty.

Consider Donating: Here

“We should certainly count our blessings, but we should also make out blessings count.” Neil A. Maxwell

Oh, his wife was going to kill him. This is how he went out. Aaron Hotchner, the formidable Unit Chief of the BAU, was slightly panicking as he was packing up his briefcase to take with him on the plane. His phone was out to call his wife, who was preparing for Thanksgiving dinner the next day, to tell her that they had been called out of town.

He sighed as he ran a hand across his forehead, already feeling the stress headache coming on from having to call her. This was going to be their first Thanksgiving as a married couple, and he had just hoped that they were able to have it. But, of course, that was not what the psycho and sociopaths of the world have in store for him.

There was one, two, three rings before her sweet honeyed voice answered with a cheerful, “Mr. Hotchner, to what do I owe this midday personal call? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Hey, honey. I’m uh- notgonnabehometomrrow,” he mumbled as fast as he could, causing her to have him repeat it.

“I won’t be home tomorrow for Thanksgiving. The team got called out to Nebraska on a child kidnapping case.” Aaron heard her take in a deep breath, and release it in a long sigh on the other end of the line.

“I am so sorry, honey. I know we had all those plans made, and you can still go have dinner with your family. I just… the team.” The longer he tried to justify his actions, the worse he felt about himself.

“Do you know when you’ll be home,” came her soft ask.

“No. These things, especially kidnapping cases, we never can predict how they’ll turn out. I’m hoping we’ll be home soon.”

“Okay. I’ll take Jack with me to dinner tomorrow. We’ll be fine, Aaron. Just focus on catching the bad guy.”

How he wished he could have. It had been five days since they touched down in Kearney, Nebraska. Five days, and they were right back to square one. Firstly, this unsub was crafty. He managed to throw suspension off of whomever it was and get another guy arrested. Every lead was turning out to be a dead end. And Aaron was pissed.

He had talked with his wife a little bit every morning and every night that he had been gone, but it did not hold a candle to the need he felt to be home. As he sat around the conference table they had been granted, Aaron pulled a bit on his tie to get it to loosen. A cup of mediocre cop shop coffee was placed in front of him, and an Italian sat next to him.

“I’m not gong to ask if you’re alright, because I know the answer to that. But I will say, it’s going to be fine.” The wisdom in his voice caused the younger man to stare him from where his chair was leaned back.

“I just want to go home, Dave. I want this case over with, and to go home. We never take this long on kidnappings. There has to be something that we’re missing.” The unit chief lamented, turning his face to the ceiling and shielding his eyes with his hands.

“We’ll catch him, Aaron. We always do. Don’t worry. Whether it’s a blessing or a curse, we haven’t found a body which means the kid is probably still alive.” Dave reassured, watching his friend closely.

“I know you were looking forward to spend the holiday with your lovely wife, but this is the job. Besides, she is more than likely not as upset as you think. Just put your head in the game, so we can get home sooner.” Rossi patted his knee, and left, shutting the door behind him. All that was left in the room was Hotch, the evidence board, and his own racing thoughts.

As much as he tried to remain focused, he could not help but think of his wife. And in doing so, he thought back to Hailey. She had only been able to take so much of him as unit chief before she threw in the towel. Would his current wife do the same if he kept having to cancel major and minor holidays for the sake of the team?

That was something that he never cared to think about, but it was a very real possibility. Hotch grabbed the cup of coffee and turned to the board behind him. The girl that had disappeared was the same age as Jack. She needed him now. Aaron really needed his head in the game. But the longer he stared at the evidence board, the more questions he got.

Had this girl been a newborn, he would have thought that this was a female abduction. Like a lightbulb flicking on, he sprang from his seat, and called the rest of the team in. From that point on, it was only a matter of time.

Coming home after six days away was like a breath of fresh air. It was late, almost midnight, when Hotch dragged his tired bones to the front door of his apartment. When he got inside, the sight made him chuckle as he disarmed his security system.

His wife was asleep on the couch with a bunch of laundry spread out around her. It honestly looked like a little nest that she had made for herself. Setting down his briefcase, and carefully stepping over the piles, his hand made contact with her arm and gently shook her awake.

“Aar, you’re home,” she mumbled sleepily.

“Yeah, I am. Let’s get you to bed, Mrs. Hotchner.” Aaron picked his wife up with little difficulty, before turning and making their way to bed. He placed her underneath their sheets, kissed her head, and went to take a shower.

His memory never recorded himself falling asleep, but he knew he did. Purely, for the simple fact that he awoke the next morning in his bed, with his wife already out of it. However, after checking the time on the clock, Aaron rushed to get ready to go into work. He took the fastest shower, put his suit on in record time, and was rushing to lace up his shoes.

“Good morning, dear. Why are you in such a hurry?”

Aaron paused in between doing the laces from tying his left shoe to look up to where his wife was standing in the kitchen. His mug was sitting on the table with some steaming coffee in it. A plate was in front of it filled with eggs, sausage, and toast.

“Um…” he trailed off, “going to work? It’s Tuesday.”

“Dave got you and the team the day off. Go change into something more comfortable, sweetie.” She giggled as she waved him off, back to the bedroom. As he did, he saw the counters filled with different preparations of side dishes. It confused him, but he was just thankful for the day off.

Coming back, Hotch was grateful that he could enjoy his day with his wife. He took his plate and pressed a kiss to her cheek while she went to sit with her own plate beside him. While they ate, she asked about the case they had just wrapped. Normally, this was not something that he liked bringing up, however, it felt nice to get it off of his chest.

Occasionally, when cases are this rough and long, it takes longer for him to decompress after the fact. Figuring out that someone was kidnapping a young girl to protect his wife that could not grapple with the fact that their daughter was dead; it was not something that you could easily comprehend. But, being able to talk to his wife and not a bureau mandated therapist was defiantly preferable.

Being able to go pick his son up from school was a welcomed change. However, his wife made sure to tell the Hotchner boys the second they got home to go get changed. He did not know why. All he knew was that the two adults, and Jack, were grabbing warmed dishes and heading out.

“Where are we going,” came his ask.

“You’ll see,” she replied.

The further they derived, the more he began to recognize the route they were on. Rossi’s mansion was quickly coming into view as they made the final turn into the driveway. Grabbing the dishes, the Hotchner’s went to the front door, and were greeted by their favorite Italian.

“Señora Hotchner, how I have missed you beautiful.” Dave pulled her in and took the dish from her hands with a kiss to each cheek.

“And I have missed you, Mr. Rossi.” Jack and Aaron followed after them. They were also greeted by Dave, and they placed their other dishes on the table outside, where a bunch of other food was already.

However, there was a sight that he never expected. The entire team was outside in the backyard. It was a massive party that he had no idea was going on. Garcia was with Derek and Emily already drinking wine. Will sat with Spencer who was shouting Henry magic tricks in the mean time.

Turning back to look at his wife who smirking an impish smile, he was confused, and knew it showed through on his face.

“I know you were upset about missing Thanksgiving last week. So I talked with Dave about maybe doing a redo.” Before he could stop himself, Aaron swooped down and kissed his wife passionately.

“Well, that is definitely one way to say thank you.” She said with a dazed smile.

“Come on, love birds. Let’s get this started.” Dave guided them to their seats, while Aaron was just thinking how thankful he was to have a wife like he did.

Catherine Pulsifier said, “Give thanks not just on Thanksgiving Day, but every day of your life.”

[kayawolfhorse]

As It Was | Read on AO3

—☾—

Desert nights, in the shadow of the sweltering hours of daylight, are improbably, intolerably cold.

Neither Scar nor Grian had anticipated the biting chill that rose with the moon over the sea of sand dunes, and their castle, for all its formidable glory, had not simply not been built to retain heat. Drafts of frigid air seep through glassless windows and the slats cut along the uppermost edge of the outer walls and drift across the tall rooms, coming to a rest against bare floors. The base’s design works beautifully against the sun’s relentless rays, but the night’s clever fingers find purchase all too easily between every brick and beam.

“I think you’ve straightened that barrel four times by now,” Scar comments from where he’s sitting upon wrinkled covers in front of the furnaces. The bed’s placement is temporary—they have actual bedrooms now, decidedly the most reasonable place for a bed to be, but in lieu of any real chairs in the kitchen, Scar’s willing to delay its relocation.

“It was crooked every time,” Grian answers, and adjusts it again. His sleeves are wound tightly around his wrists, colorful wings held firm to his back, and there’s hardly a plank out of place in the double row of barrels that line the walls. Scar’s reluctance to leave the warmest room in the castle is clearly shared.

They continue to swap idle chatter and half-hearted battle plans until Grian runs out of excuses to linger and they’re both stifling yawns after every word.

“I guess that’s it, then,” Grian says, and his words drag along like stubborn heels wedged in sand.

“Guess so.” Scar makes no move to get up, and Grian remains rooted in place. After a moment of mutual inaction, an idea sparks to gleaming life. “You know, we could just stay here.”

“Yeah, but I’m tired,” Grian says. “Need to sleep at some point, and it’s not getting any warmer.”

“Well, lucky for us both, then, there’s already a bed right here.”

Two ticks pass undisturbed.

“You want to—share?” Grian sputters. His wings splay out slightly, seemingly of their own accord; Grian’s quick to smooth them back down.

“No reason not to!” Scar says. “I’m cold; you’re cold. Pooling body heat would be a very economical move.”

Grian stares at him, and Scar can practically hear the gears churning in his brain before he decides, “We can make adjustments to the castle tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

“This is a one-night thing.”

“Sure, sure.”

Scar lays down with his head to the furnaces, scooching back until there’s a nice, Grian-sized spot next to him. Slowly, hesitantly, Grian kicks off his shoes and slides into bed.

The narrow mattress was certainly meant for a single body, and the wall is cold against Scar’s exposed shoulder, but at every point where his other side meets Grian’s is blissful warmth. He resists the urge to melt on the spot.

The space between them is a held breath; just enough tension strings along Grian’s frame to be palpable, and his hand is balled into a loose fist at his hip.

After a moment, when his fingers uncurl in a quiet exhale and start to reach instead of refrain, Scar turns towards him and snakes a careful arm around his waist. Grian huffs, but relaxes his stiff shoulders, which Scar takes as an invitation to draw him closer into himself.

“Dude, you’re like a teddy bear,” Scar says into Grian’s soft hair.

“And you’re a barnacle,” Grian grumbles, and shifts beneath Scar’s grip. Scar releases him, unsure if he’d gone too far, but all Grian does is tug Scar further into his space and tuck his head beneath Scar’s chin. Scar chooses to blame the heat that spreads across his cheekbones on the sudden temperature change. “You’d be warmer with a shirt, you know.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Scar says. Grian mutters something unintelligible, but his argument evens out with his breath; in one last sigh, he’s asleep.

Scar pulls the blanket more securely over them both before returning his arm to its position around Grian. They’ve hugged before, of course—Scar enjoys showering his friends with physical affection, and Grian’s a very huggable guy! The only real contrast is between their usual verticality and how horizontal they lay now.

It shouldn’t feel different. It shouldn’t. It’s rather late to be picking apart how it does.

For all Scar hid from it, sleep finds him with swift assurance, and the darkness pulls him under.

—☾—

It’s been a few minutes since Scar had gasped awake on his final life, gear-less, enchanter-less, and utterly alone. The wind that blows across a lonely mountaintop beyond his hut’s walls is the only sound that dares fracture the silence suffocating him.

His stuff is still back at the Southlands, if there’s even anything left of it. Murmurs of white-hot phantom pain ghost across every part of his skin the lava had touched.

He should go get his stuff. He should gather his few bits of TNT and ignite a trail of ruin within the base of those who have taken so much from him. There should be anger crackling at his very marrow, urging him forwards, avenging his death.

Scar stares at a scuff mark left behind on the calcite floor, and doesn’t move for a long time.

Eventually, the rattle of the doorknob startles Scar up onto his feet and into his usual place behind the just-for-show register. No one has business here anymore—he’d run out of his most precious commodities to sell. His fingers tighten against the counter.

Grian’s near-shoved inside by a particularly inspired gust, and he grunts as he hauls the door shut behind him. Everything about him is mussed; the scarf around his neck, the breaths that fall rapid-fire from his lips, his wings. Scar’s immediate instinct is still to offer a preen. He doesn’t.

“Hello there,” Scar greets instead. What else is there to do? Maybe he can work in a scam before Grian leaves.

Grian’s gaze snaps to Scar’s face before the words are fully out of his mouth. It’s foolish, really: there should be mockery swirling within the amber of Grian’s eyes; teasing pity, or, if Scar’s lucky, fear, but all he can find in the pinch of Grian’s mouth and the furrow of his brow is concern.

“I brought your items,” Grian says, and holds a pair of diamond trousers aloft. “D’you have a place to put them?”

Scar steps back from the counter and gestures to its empty surface. As Grian dumps what meager gear had survived the lava onto it, Scar briefly entertains a fantasy in which he’d sent Grian to deposit the items in the mess of chests outside instead. He supposes he couldn’t have prevented any thievery, should it have arisen, if Grian was out of his sight, but somewhere deep within, Scar gets the feeling Grian agrees that he’s already taken enough.

The sound of leather against wood brings Scar back to the present. He glances down; a book whose cover is marked by Bdubs’ familiar looping handwriting lands next to his pickaxe. A second book bearing Joel’s signature is soon to join it. Contracts.

Scar looks sharply at Grian, who shrugs. “I didn’t see mine.”

“So that’s it, then,” Scar says, and something bitter coats his throat.

Grian empties his bag of a final unlit torch. “I came all the way out here, didn’t I? The contract’s still on.”

“Oh,” Scar says. He blinks. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Grian says. Uncertainty washes over his features in one second; it’s gone in the next. You wouldn’t happen to have tea, would you?”

Scar doesn’t, but from his inventory Grian produces not only a pouch of tea leaves but an entire kettle to prepare them in. He crouches before Scar’s tiny fireplace and fusses about setting water to boil while Scar uselessly rearranges things on the shelves that line the far wall. Against the brush of his fingers, a rack of crystals hanging from chords of string chime softly against each other, and Scar savors the sound; Grian, too, pauses to listen, and continues only when the twinkling has faded.

Long after the dregs of tea have cooled, it becomes apparent that Grian isn’t leaving, and Scar doesn’t understand why. Even his contract didn’t oblige him with this—the stipulations may protect Scar from Grian’s physical harm, and give demand for resources when he needs them, but they’re not really allies, not this time around.

Scar doesn’t know what to make of it. He certainly doesn’t know what to make of Grian’s tired eyes and empty hands as he sits on the floor beside Scar’s bed.

He holds his tongue for an admirably long time. Company is so few and far between, after all.

“What are you still doing here, G?” Scar asks.

Grian stares for a fierce, resolute moment at the floor before answering. He must’ve found the same scuff.

When he looks up, his mouth churns for a second before words start to come out of it. “It’s awfully cold out,” he says. “I figured I’d let the worst of it pass.”

Scar considers this. It really is quite frigid, and where the rest of the server is swathed in the honey-boughed trees of autumn, his mountain sees only the hardiest of evergreens. Dusk brings a fierce bite that threatens to close its jaws around any player foolish enough to traverse its snowy cliffs.

“It won’t get any better ‘til the sun comes out, I’m afraid,” Scar says lightly.

The thing is, Grian’s not lying. It’s not a lie, but it’s not the truth, either. He’s keeping something from Scar (when’s the last time he told Scar anything, anyway? Scar knows the answer) and Scar can’t figure out what.

Though, Scar supposes, full honesty is hardly a ware upon his own shelves. If things were different, if they stood on different ground and the air between them wasn’t filled with static, Scar would press harder.

He lets Grian keep his not-lie, free of charge.

“That’s alright,” Grian says. He removes the goggles perched in his hair and tilts his head back against the corner of the mattress behind him, closing his eyes. “I’ll be gone before you know it.”

Scar gives himself exactly three seconds to breathe before he unclasps his cloak and leaves it on its hook by the door. He’ll have to dig his black one out of whatever chest it’s stashed in tomorrow to better drape over his last life. Carefully, he edges into bed, and once beneath the covers, gives Grian’s shoulder a gentle tug.

A single half-slitted eye flicks up to Scar’s outstretched arm.

“Just for tonight?” Scar asks. He thinks he might be pleading. “A one-night thing.”

Just when Scar’s about to take back his words and encase them in fake laughter, insisting he didn’t mean them, Grian shrugs out of his boots and crawls into bed, and easily curls around Scar.

His hand finds Scar’s own and squeezes, briefly, before letting go. It travels up the side of Scar’s neck—Scar shouldn’t trust this much, and Grian shouldn’t be this gentle—until his fingers twine around a strand of Scar’s hair.

“It’s getting long,” Grian says, and his eyes are far too pained. Scar wonders if he, too, is thinking about the nights they passed a pair of shears between them to trim each other’s unruly mess of hair before remembering that neither of them should care about that anymore.

“Haven’t had time to cut it,” Scar lies. The echo of what’s left unsaid is unbearably loud.

Grian fully retracts his hand; his countenance shutters with it. After a moment, he rests his arm over Scar’s waist. “A one-night thing,” he says, like it’s a reminder.

For all he can foolishly hope otherwise, Scar knows Grian means it. It’s a far cry from countless nights spent scheming in whispers on a single bed whose crevices always held pinches of sand, no matter how hard they shook out the covers. Tomorrow night, he will be alone again.

For the fleeting moments he has him, Scar holds Grian close and aches.

—☾—

There’s a second heartbeat intertwined around Scar’s own between his ribs, and it’s as familiar as a path trodden down by years of use; as foreign as the untouched grass of a new world’s spawn, and its owner lies across the room from him.

The sensation is odd: to share something only ever meant for one body feels like it should feel wrong, like it’s breaking a line of code within the Universe itself. Stranger still is to be so far away from his counterpart, when surely they’ve been melded as one. Every part of him yearns to reach across the expanse between their beds.

Grian’s heart drums out homesickness within his ears. Scar kind of hates it.

“Grian, did you move the diamonds somewhere?” Scar calls over his shoulder. With a collective distaste in organization, the pair of them make for a blight upon storage systems everywhere, but Scar could’ve sworn the few diamonds they had left were right here a day ago.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I moved them further in. Let me grab them.” Grian appears with an axe in hand, and pries up a few floorboards near the back wall to expose a hidden chest. He gestures to it. “Gathered up our iron and TNT supplies, too.”

“You never tell me anything,” Scar muses as he crouches down to grab enough diamonds for a pickaxe. When he looks up at Grian, he’s got a funny expression on his face, like he’s bitten into a melon that’s been left out in the sun for too long.

“I tell you plenty,” he says, and his tone edges into something defensive.

Scar examines a nail. “Didn’t tell me about the secret chest though, did’ja?”

“I was going to,” Grian says evenly. His pale knuckles are in the process of turning whiter around the handle of his axe.

“When?” Scar asks. “After you gathered all the courage you needed to share plans with your teammate? After I’d caught you with red enough hands that you had no choice?”

“No!” Grian must’ve noticed his tightening grip, and shoves the axe back onto his belt. “No, Scar, that’s not it.”

“Then what is it, I wonder? I don’t think you trust me, Grian.”

“I trust you plenty,” Grian dismisses. Liar. Something cracks beneath Scar’s eye. “It’s not like you tell me everything you get up to, anyway.”

“It was a bit of light arson, everything’s fine.” Scar waves a flippant hand. “I can make my own decisions and you should support me in them, as my soulmate.”

“Making enemies behind my back isn’t fine,” Grian says with a glare. “Not when both of our lives are at stake.”

“Sure, but I would’ve told you straight away,” Scar says. “It’s not my fault you heard about it through rumors before I could get to you. You clearly don’t feel the same about what you keep from me.”

“I just didn’t think it concerned you,” Grian mutters.

“Concerned me?” Scar exclaims. “They’re our resources! Why wouldn’t that concern me?”

“Cared. I didn’t think you cared,” Grian corrects himself. A nasty little thing worms its way into his tone as he says, “It doesn’t affect the pandas. What reason do you have to care?”

“We’re supposed to be a team,” Scar spits out. “And let me tell you, you’ve done a crap job so far.”

“Oh, Scar, we haven’t been one for a long time,” Grian says, and his blade softens to barbs wrapped around Scar’s flesh. “Why start now?”

The wire tightens. Scar bleeds.

He doesn’t grace Grian with another word before storming out of the haphazard storage room. Grian can hide any chest he wants, Scar doesn’t care. He doesn’t.

Dread prickles along the nerves of Scar’s palms. The darkness before him is blinding; he can’t see, no matter how wide he tries to open his eyes. Weight presses down upon every limb, and he’s trapped, he’s vulnerable, and all around him, inky blackness roars—

“—Scar? Scar. C’mon, buddy.”

Scar bolts upright. It takes a moment before low torchlight burns into view, and the room around him sharpens. He holds a hand to his brow. It comes away sweaty.

“Scar.”

Right. Grian’s kneeling beside Scar’s bed, his red sweater a bloodstain in the dimness, and his hand hovers close to Scar’s arm. When Scar meets his gaze, his reach drops entirely.

“Yes?” Scar asks expectantly. He had avoided Grian for the rest of the day after their argument, and was asleep before Grian had returned to the base; this is the first they’ve spoken in hours.

“You were having a nightmare.” Grian says, and gestures to his own chest. Scar’s heartbeat had given him away.

“Oh.”

Uncomfortable silence falls between them. Scar fidgets with the blanket and vaguely debates what time it must be.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Grian says. His delivery is lacking, in Scar’s humble opinion, and at least some of that must show on his face, because Grian continues: “Really, I am. I should’ve told you straight away.”

“You should’ve trusted me straight away,” Scar adds. He’s been taken off-guard, admittedly. Grian’s always been the type to argue fast and apologize just as quickly afterwards, but this is the first time he’s said it here. Scar wouldn’t have expected it to come in the middle of the night, but Grian’s also never been one for general reason.

“I should’ve,” Grian agrees. “It’s pretty lousy to go behind your soulmate’s back like that; you deserved to have known.”

“Thank you,” Scar says, a bit stunned.

“We kind of suck at this whole soulbound business,” Grian says, with a humorless little laugh.

Scar shrugs. “We’ll manage.”

Grian’s forehead furrows and he scans Scar’s face before he nods once, slowly, decisively. “Yeah, we will.”

It’s too late in the night for truthfulness, and Scar’s edges are feeling rather raw, so instead of releasing the hundreds of words that threaten to tumble from the tip of his tongue, he extends an arm in invitation to Grian.

Grian doesn’t hesitate to haul himself forwards and settle his head upon Scar’s chest when they’re both properly laying down. Scar might cry. He buries his face in Grian’s hair.

“For what it’s worth,” Grian says, a final breath before sleep, “I’m glad to share a heart with you, as accident-prone as you sometimes are. I don’t think I’d want it to be anyone else.”

Scar squeezes him tighter. Grian hugs him back. The distance gaping between them doesn’t feel quite so insurmountable.

—☾—

“Hi Grian! I’m so sorry, but it had to happen. Thank you.”

Grian’s unblinking stare doesn’t waver. If Scar squints, he can almost convince himself he sees some semblance of life in the stiff form of his body through the water that cascades between them.

“No—this isn’t an apology session, he tells you your future,” Bdubs says, and the group crammed together in the little stone room erupts into giggles. Scar defends his position against their teasing through his own laughter.

Still chuckling, Scott says, “You know what, this can be whatever you want. For Scar, it can be a confessional, and for the rest of us it can be fortune telling.”

“Okay, hold on, one second.” Scar clears his throat and peers back through the waterfall. It’s almost easier to hold Grian’s eyes when he’s not behind them. Scar misses their spark. “I’m sorry that I baby-talked you so much, you were just so cute on your little llama. I’m so sorry that I killed you, but I had to. It was part of the moment, things happen. Thank you.”

Someone gives a short-winded clap.

Scar turns around with a flourish before straightening. “I feel better.”

“Lovely,” Bdubs says.

After the bit has run its course, Scar shuffles aboveground with everyone else and lags behind when they head for their respective bases. When the coast is clear, he doubles back to where Grian’s been left.

First he plugs the water, and in its absence, the room is shockingly still. He then drops into a crouch by the wall next to Grian, and unhooks his legs beneath him until he’s sat flat on the ground, leaning against the cool stone.

“I lied,” Scar says, staring into nothing. “I said I was sorry for killing you, but I’m not. Well, maybe I am. I’m sorry for not being more sorry.”

Will Grian be mad when he wakes? Surely he’d expected chaos upon leaving his unoccupied body on a server like this. It’d be, frankly, unreasonable not to. If anything, he’s lucky he’s not on red, or a shimmering spectator floating through the night!

Scar is briefly distracted by visions of a ghostly Grian wearing a leather jacket as solid as the moral world around him, like when one forgets to remove their armor after taking a potion of invisibility. He voices as much to the real Grian, and the faint echo that follows his own voice is his only response.

It feels wrong to let the stifling hush fall back into place, so Scar fills it.

He tells Grian about the Clockers, and how their tower is coming along. He recounts a funny encounter with Martyn and all of the spectacular ways Scar’s traps have failed. Joel had complimented Scar’s triple kill, Scar can’t help but gloat, and winces when he gets to the part where all three of the players who’d died were yellow.

“You’d be proud,” Scar says. “Almost a quad.” There is something undeniably warm and inexplicably aching in his chest.

“I miss you sometimes,” he confesses, “and it’s silly, because you’re right there in front of me. You’ve got your sunglasses and your bread bad bridge boys—however you say it—and it’s stupid to miss someone you can see, right?”

He tilts his head up and traces patterns in the ceiling. “I’m happy with Mom and Bdubs. I’m not sorry for burning your mansion down or maybe sort of poking around your chests. We both know how Double Life ended.”

From his pocket, Scar produces a bedroll, and he briefly shuffles around to place it where he’d been sitting and re-settle upon it. His legs were getting sore.

“We make a good team.” Sepia-toned kitchens and grey trouser pockets lined with TNT bleed into spiked fortresses and mildewed cities deep underground. “Or maybe we don’t.”

Scar sighs. “Silly of me, isn’t it?”

A stuttering cough jolts Scar from the hazy area between wakefulness and sleep. It takes him a moment to place where he is. There’s a crick in his neck from where he’d been awkwardly leaning it against the stone.

“Of all the places to be, I don’t think this is what I was expecting,” Grian says contemplatively to Scar’s right, his voice a little scratchy.

“Oh!” Scar says, startled. “Good… something, sleepyhead.”

“Scar? What are you doing here?” Grian asks. Scar watches as he clambers out of the hole he’d been put in on unsteady feet. “Actually, scratch that. Where is here?”

“Somewhere under Entertainment Mountain!” Scar frowns. “I think.”

“Right, okay.” Grian’s remarkably composed for someone in his position. “Getting back to my first point, are you a guard or something?”

“You were telling fortunes,” Scar says.

It’s astonishing how different Grian’s blank stare is now compared to his previous state. He shakes his head as if to clear it and says, “Actually, I’ve decided that I don’t want to know.

“You told Scott he’d soon come into a stack of diamonds and promised Bdubs a puppy,” Scar says, just to mess with him.

Grian snorts. “Sad to have missed it.” Something like relief floods through Scar.

“Fun times, fun times,” Scar says. “Off to your bread boys, then?”

“Are you off to your Clockers?” Grian asks. He nearly smirks with it.

“It is pretty late,” Scar says, and his own smile grows.

“The boys will definitely want more of an explanation than what I’m awake enough to give,” Grian agrees. He gestures to the space next to Scar, and asks, “That seat wouldn’t happen to be taken, would it?”

Though their teams will worry, though they’ll wake up tomorrow and join opposite sides once more, Grian’s legs tangle between Scar’s own and his breath puffs gently against the juncture of Scar’s neck. Scar’s fingers dig into the softness of Grian’s sweater. He’s glad Grian had left his jacket behind for taking off for… wherever he went.

“So, what was your fortune?” Grian asks, and Scar can feel the words against his skin. They dance as they fall from Grian’s lips, light and teasing.

“That I’m going to win Limited Life, of course,” Scar says with a grin.

Grian hums. “Guess we’ll see.”

—☾—

Twilight catches between each of the sunflowers’ petals that have not yet been shrouded in the shadow of the wall around Scar’s valley, a pretty contrast to the craters he’s been tripping over on the way home. He catches the edge of the nearest flower between his forefinger and thumb as he passes by and releases it before the petals can tear away.

The glow of his outpost is a beacon; once inside, Scar collapses against the door on weary bones. He’d been set on fire a couple times today, and none of it compares to the burn nipping at his feet now. Exhaustion barely begins to cover the shape of his lungs and every limb.

Scar’s moved to sitting on the counter’s edge with his boots removed when a knock sounds at his door. “Come in,” he calls without looking up.

“You’re in a sorry state, aren’t you.” Grian appears in front of Scar. He’s looking rather disheveled himself—his wings, in particular, are just as rumbled as the rolled-up cuffs of his sweater and the white undershirt that peeks out from his collar.

“Wow, rude,” Scar comments.

“Nah, I didn’t mean it like that,” Grian says. “I came to check on you. Big day, yeah?”

Scar scoffs. “That stupid thing chased me for like—an hour!”

“And you made a valiant effort,” Grian says, and gives Scar’s shoulder a compassionately gentle pat. “I brought a golden apple over, if you need it.”

“Here at Trader Scar’s, stock is looking unfortunately low at this very second.” Scar waves a hand in the vague direction of the barrels on the wall. “Come back tomorrow.”

“At no cost.” The corner of Grian’s lip quirks up.

“Well, in that case…” Scar holds out a palm, and Grian passes him the apple. He takes a bite and savors its sweetness, ambrosia whose warmth runs over top of his wounds without truly mending them. The kindness of the gesture itself soaks deeper, and Scar’s determined to savor that, too.

Grian watches him for a moment. His gaze seems to skirt across every inch of Scar, never lingering on any specific part. “Got any other general ailments?”

“Can’t do much about them, now can we?” Scar shrugs.

“Sure, but I could at least clean them.” Grian’s tone is nonchalant, but his words, Scar knows, are anything but. This matters to him. The corners of Scar’s eyes crinkle.

The Wither—and the rest of the day’s shenanigans—had left a number of scrapes and bruises along Scar’s skin that turning in his task hadn’t fully healed. A dull sort of sting gnaws at the lines of Scar’s nerves, residue from the withering he hadn’t been able to dodge. His legs hurt and his head throbs and there’s a twinge in his shoulder from where Scar had collided with a wall at an odd angle.

His hands are in arguably the worst state of it all; bare to the earth Scar caught himself upon when he tripped, and tight around a bow when he dared to turn and shoot. He offers them up first to Grian, who takes them, one at a time, and cleans away the dirt and blood with invariable carefulness.

From his pocket Grian produces a roll of bandages, which he uses to wrap each of Scar’s palms. The rhythm is soothing, and Grian’s steady warmth is familiar. The pain ebs, if even just for a moment, in the wake of his touch.

“Anything else?” Grian asks after he releases Scar’s hands. Though he remains close enough for his breath to fan lightly across the tip of Scar’s nose, Scar mourns the loss of contact immediately.

“Nothing that can be wrapped, it seems,” Scar says. “You?”

“I’m pretty alright,” Grian says. “I feel like I could sleep an entire week, though.”

“Sleeping on wings looking like that?” Scar says conversationally. “They’ll be worse by morning.”

“Oh,” Grian says, sounding a little surprised. He tosses a half-glance over his shoulder. “They’ll be fine.”

“Nonsense!” Scar says. “I’d be a terrible host if I let a guest stay over in such discomfort.”

“Really, there’s no need,” Grian says, leveling Scar a look. Unfortunately for him, Scar’s thoroughly familiar with his tactics.

“You fixed me up,” Scar says, “it’s only fair if I do the same, right?”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Grian says. “I didn’t come over for any deals.”

“Consider this to be on the house,” Scar says. Softer, he adds, “I want to. If you’ll have me.”

Grian’s quiet for a long moment. His wing twitches in seeming contemplation.

“Fair is fair,” he concedes soon after. “Want any help getting into bed?”

“Please.”

Scar wraps an arm over Grian’s shoulder, careful to avoid his wings, while Grian braces Scar across his back. Together they make their way into the outpost’s second room, where Scar’s bed is nestled amidst a pile of chests. Scar tugs off his poncho and tosses it onto the nearest surface, then settles onto the bed against the far wall. Grian perches on the edge in front of him and spreads out a wing.

They really are beautiful this time around, all earthy browns and creamy tans, speckled with spots of black that remind Scar of rich, dark soil. He runs gentle fingers through the nearest plumage, carding out debris and straightening feathers knocked out of place.

The repeated motions are comforting, like petting a cat (and gosh, does he miss Jellie, but he’d asked her once if she’d wanted to accompany him, and she’d meowed back with what he’s pretty sure meant no, thank you very much, death games would be terrible for my coat, and that was that), and after he finishes the section he’d been working on, he runs a flat hand over it appreciatively. Grian very generously allows about three seconds of this, punctuated by a slight shake of his shoulders and heavy sigh, before shrugging Scar off.

Moving on to the next part, Scar asks, “How’s life been with Etho and Cleo?”

Scar can see Grian’s slight smile where it raises part of his cheek. “It’s good. They’re weird, but, like, in a good way. Chill.”

“Sounds like them,” Scar says, and murmurs an apology when he plucks a broken feather. Grian hardly flinches, and Scar knows why it must be done, but he can’t help but feel the slightest bit of guilt every time. “So the Wither, it was your task?”

“Yep,” Grian says, popping the p. “Me and Etho’s, actually. We had to set up a boss fight between the Wither and warden. Definitely didn’t expect it to lock in so heavily on you, though. Sorry about that.”

“A task’s a task, right?” Scar says. “Thanks for saving me, back there.”

The rift Grian had pried open in the server’s code had left a gash without taking hearts; Scar has the ripped sleeve to prove it. Floating between worlds is hardly pleasant, however anchored he’d still technically been to Secret Life, and solid ground upon his return had been a relief. Even more immensely relieving was spotting the Wither on Scott’s tail instead of his own.

Scar doesn’t know why Grian did it. Though friendly enough, they aren’t teamed.

“It’s the least I could’ve done,” Grian answers, and releases his other wing from where he’d been preening it across his lap. “Are you about finished?”

“Almost.” All that’s left are the tiny feathers at the juncture of Grian’s wings and his back, sprouting from the open panel of his shirt. They’re not particularly out of place, but when Scar smooths them down, he’s rewarded with a shiver that reverberates down the length of Grian’s spine. Grian whacks Scar with a wing. “Hey! You’ll mess up my work.”

“Should’ve thought about that,” Grian says primly before he twists to face Scar and pulls his legs up onto the bed. “It’s nap time, anyway.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Scar says, and collapses sideways, pulling Grian down with him.

The outpost feels all that less lonesome when Grian’s tucked into Scar’s side beneath a blanket of feathers. Grian’s warmth is soothing against Scar’s pains, and for all the questions that still buzz behind his eyes, Grian’s presence puts Scar’s somnolent-syruped mind at something close to ease.

Grian traces slow patterns into Scar’s arm. Scar falls asleep trying to decipher what they could be.

—☾—

The footsteps that pad up the mountain long after Lizzie and Jimmy have passed out are a surprise. What little remains of the reputation board still smolders a mere few blocks away from Scar, and his yellow life sits fresh in his chest. He’d assumed their little arrangement had drawn to an explosive end.

“Come to take your revenge?” Scar asks the shadow over him. “It’s against the gentleman's code to kill a guy in his sleep.”

If Scar admits it to himself, he’s happy to see Grian. From nearly the first second Scar had made his bed, Grian had claimed half of it as his own, and Scar would be reluctant to give up his nightly company, with what ease they slot together in and how warm Grian is looped around him. Scar’s teammates have long given up their protest, but Lizzie declares a continual disregard of principle if Grian’s still around by the time she rises from her own slumber.

“I’m still mad at you,” Grian says, and though he can’t see it, Scar can hear his scowl. “Move over.”

Scar graciously complies, and Grian shoves beneath the blanket. He keeps his back towards Scar and his legs curled firmly away, a display that’d achieve more of an effect if his head wasn’t a breath away from Scar’s on the bed’s single pillow. His feathers are ticklish where they brush lightly against Scar.

“You’re about to fall off,” Scar observes.

“Shut up,” comes the grumbled reply. Grudgingly, Grian scoots all of an inch inwards. “It’s none of your business if I choose to sleep on the ground, anyway. It’d be more tolerable than your company.”

Grian would do no such thing, and they both know it. Still, Scar says, “But the thud, skip, and squawk would definitely disrupt my beauty sleep, so it’s really in my best interest to make sure you don’t go tumblin’.”

“I’ll go tumbling if I want to,” Grian answers, tilting his head to the sky to glare at Scar from the corner of his vision, “and it’d be your fault when I die from fall damage. Again.”

“We’re even!” Scar says. “That’s all in the past.”

“We are not even, and that was like, five hours ago!”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Scar challenges.

“That’s different,” Grian says, flat.

Scar pauses. He doesn’t want to antagonize Grian into actually leaving, not really. The steps to their dance have worn well into his soles, and the shape of his partner is familiar between his arms.

He’d missed Grian. For all of their posturing, twirling the line between enemy and friend, to have him by his side once more beneath the winking moon’s light is a gratifying reprieve.

“A truce, then,” Scar eventually says, “if we’re not even.”

“A truce,” Grian agrees. The anger in his voice has faded like lips pulled over once-bared teeth. Scar can’t quite make out what replaces it, but through the tiredness that seeps in along Grian’s edges, Scar’s fairly certain he’s not about to be bit.

“And friends?” Scar teasingly tries. He can envision the scrunch of Grian’s nose as clear as day when he huffs in reply.

“Not friends,” Grian says. “But beyond someone’s cheap shot, we’re not really enemies, are we?”

“Not if you don’t want to be,” Scar says. Something surges out with aching fingers from the cavity between his ribs where two hearts had once beat in tandem. It’s fun to rile Grian up, but what side he stands on hardly matters in stopping Scar, anyway. It’d be nice, he thinks, to not be enemies.

“Though you’re still dead to me,” Grian says, “we’ve had plenty of practice being enemies before. We can stay affably neutral here if you don’t go taking any more dirty kills.”

Scar shrugs and nods, but he can’t help his grin. “Gotta keep it fresh.”

Grian clicks his tongue in the same way he always does when they’ve reached the same conclusion. Scar’s sure that, if he’d been watching Grian instead of the stars above them, he would’ve caught Grian’s accompanying wink.

“Goodnight, Grian,” Scar says, and closes his eyes.

“Goodnight, Scar.” Grian turns fully back onto his side. He scoots in another inch. The blanket undergoes a considerable amount of rearranging before it adequately covers them both.

After everything’s been sorted, Scar reaches out. Grian’s hand meets his own halfway across the mattress. Their linked fingers are awfully close to honesty, and a shared pillow is the nearest Scar’s ever been to trust.

A truce hums behind Scar’s eyelids, and he lets the darkness pull him under.

“And we’re best friends?”

“We’re best friends.”

The sun is shining and the morning feels ripe with opportunity when Scar wakes. Grian’s hold on Scar is fierce even in sleep, and Scar takes a moment to bask in it.

It’s all a bit hard to fully wrap his mind around. They’re allies again—no, better yet, friends. The sensation is apricity against frost-nipped fingers. It’s the light of a campfire and the jaunty melody of the song shared around it. It’s home.

After a tick or two—Grian’s never been one to let too much of the day’s beginning go to waste—Grian shifts and blinks the bleariness from his eyes. Scar’s chest feels impossibly aglow with fondness.

“Hi,” Grian says when he lifts his gaze to Scar’s face.

“Good morning,” Scar says, and, just to make sure: “Best friend?”

Grian snorts. “I meant it. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

There’s a mace tucked away somewhere in his inventory, and a thousand things piled between them. Scar remembers sand, and wood, and stone; he remembers sleep-warm skin and linens as soft as a death game can afford beneath his fingertips.

Scar kisses Grian, once, just to feel his startled laugh against his own mouth. They rise in staggered tandem, and Grian pressed his lips to Scar’s temple before disappearing down the mountainside to rejoin his team.

Smiling, Scar stretches his shoulders with a satisfying crack, and goes off to find his own.

[pedrosgrogu]

Born Too Late - Chapter 7

pairing/au: neighbor!joel x reader // no outbreak

Warnings: MDNI!! angst, child “abandonment” (idk how else to explain forgetting Sarah at school im so sorry), mentions of sex, readers family being assholes, drinking, let me know if i missed something :)

Summary: Sarah’s mom forgets her at school, leading to a girl's afternoon. Joel still refusing to face you, makes for great conversation with Tommy. (1.5k+)

a/n: heyyyyy. *late*  but as promised. this is more so a filler for next chapter which i will hopefully have within the coming days. also, love finally hanging with tommy and developing his character into more than just the drunk, in trouble younger brother. this is getting more and more traction every post or so, thank u!! its my first fic and im still v nervous but im glad you’re all enjoying it. i <3 feedback so pls feel free to always leave it. xoxox 

“Okay everyone! Please dont forget about our test next Wednesday, and have a great Thanksgiving!” You yell as the bell rings, dismissing your students. Its the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and your school did early release today. Since its a holiday break, teachers can leave as soon as all students are gone, and next weeks plans are turned in. 

You open your laptop to finish next weeks math lesson, and notice a new email from your dad. 

Subject: Happy Thanksgiving 

To: You and 15 others 

You open the email and it's an attachment, a picture of your mom, dad, and your brothers and their families, all together in Spain. You scoff and delete it. Thanks for the fucking invite. Clicking back to your tab, you finish next week's lesson, adding slides to a PowerPoint, and worksheets to the file itself. You send it to the office printer, and close your laptop; tucking it away in your file cabinet. One goal you set is that work does not go home with you, especially not on holiday breaks. 

You grab your bag, turn off the light, and shut the door behind you. You walk into the office and see Sarah sitting there. Weird, Joel is never late you think to yourself. “Hey Sarah!” you say, shooting her a wave. She looks up at you but doesn't wave back. 

You print out your plans. All the slides, and copies of the worksheets, are stacked neatly in a manilla folder and left in your boss's box. Walking back up front, you notice Sarah is still sitting there. You walk behind the front desk and get close to the receptionist, Mrs. Johnson.

“Mrs. Johnson, Sarah is one of my students and neighbor. Has no one called about being late?” 

“No ma’am.” she responds “She told me her mom was coming but we can't seem to reach her on the phone.” You look at Sarah, and then back at Mrs. Johnson, and sigh. “Yeah, Mom's a piece of work. I'll call her dad.” 

You reach around in your purse, nervously pulling out your phone. “Excuse me for just a minute.” and you step into the empty conference room down the hall. You search for Joel's name in your contacts, you haven't spoken to him since you screamed at him on your porch. You click call and put the phone up to your ear. It only rings twice. 

“Hey, can I call you back? I'm at work and we’re trying to wrap up so we don't have to be on-site all day tomorrow.” His voice is as smooth as molasses, but you know it isn't Joels. 

“Tommy? Can you tell Joel that Sarah is still at school? Her mom never showed up.” You say, worriedly. 

“What?! Goddamn it. Joel, Sarah is still at school. You need to go get-” You cut him off. 

“Tommy, I can take her home. I'm still here, she's in the front office.” 

“We won’t be home til’ late. I’ll come an get her, an she’ll just have to come to the jobsite with us.” The frustration in his voice is peaking out with every word. 

“Tommy, realistically there is no reason for that. I live right beside Joel. I don't mind bringing her to my house, and she can just hang out until you get home. I’ve got some frozen pizza, snacks, and a TV. She’ll be fine.” 

“Are you sure? I really hate to inconvenience you but it would be a tremendous help to Joel.” you’re quiet. Funny that it would help Joel but he cant even come to the goddamn phone. 

“Im sure Tommy. Just have Joel call the front office and let them know she's alright to go home with me.”

“I owe ya one. Thanks pretty girl!.” and before you can correct him, he hangs up. You laugh. Hes such a flirt. 

You compose yourself, putting your phone back in your bag and opening the door. By the time you’re back in the front, Mrs. Johnson is on the phone. 

“Uh-huh, no worries Mr. Miller. I understand. Have a Happy Thanksgiving!” and she clicks the office phone down. She looks at you, smiling and nodding. “Come on Sarah! I'm gonna take you home.” She jumps out of her chair. “Really? Yay!!” She throws her backpack on, basically running out the door in front of you.”I've been telling my dad that I wanted to have a girls day with you but he always says you're busy. I told him you told me to come over whenever I want, even without homework but he didn't believe me.” You laugh. “Sarah, you can always come over. No matter what! You know that.” Your relationship with Sarah is slowly starting to develop more. You see her as the little sister you never had. 

You start your car and plug your iPod in. “What’re you in the mood for Ms. Miller?” you ask, swirling the dial through your artists. “Do you have any Jesse McCartney?” She asks, her smile as bright as the sun. “Duh!!” You scroll to his name and click Shuffle. Leavin’ starts playing. “Do NOT tell my dad. He would die!” She says. You laugh, “Our little secret,” you say. 

Once home, Sarah works on a book report for her english class. You give her some water and some chips. She finishes her snack, and puts her books back in her bag. You spend all afternoon doing whatever Sarah wants. Watching Hannah Montana, doing each other's nails, and making cookies. Before you know it, its 5:30. Sarah stirs on the couch, asking what's for dinner. “I’ve got pizza! Cheese or pepperoni?” you ask her “mmmm…. Pepperoni!” You preheat the oven, and listen for the beep. 

It’s 8:30 and Sarah is asleep beside you on the couch. She was knocked out after 2 slices. Your phone beeps and you check it. 

Joel: We’ll probably be here another hour or so. How’s my girl? 

You missed seeing his name pop up on your phone. The butterflies you feel never go unnoticed.

You: Shes fine. She had dinner about 2 hours ago and fell asleep right after. She’s half in my lap so I can’t move, but I don’t mind.

Joel: Thanks again. Tommy will be over to get her when we finish up. 

You scoff. Not even man enough to face you. 

You: Okay. 

You start to doze around 9. In and out of consciousness, waking every little bit to check on Sarah. You hear a knock at the door that jolts you awake. Checking the clock, its 10:00. You carefully move Sarah’s head from your let to a pillow. You quietly open the door, hoping for Joel. Unfortunately, God isnt on your side tonight, because its Tommy. You invite him in, turning the entryway light on. 

“Thanks again, Joel and I really appreciate it.” 

You look at him, rolling your eyes. “You, I believe. Joel? Not so much.” 

“Damn diva, whats with the attitude?” Tommy says, smiling. 

You weigh the pros and cons of dumping your emotions onto Tommy. And honestly, you’re at the point that you don't care. “You got a minute?” you say, walking to the fridge and grabbing 2 beers. “I always got time for you girl.” he says, swiftly. You roll your eyes again. You check to see if Sarah has moved and she's still in the same spot you’ve left her. 

You start at Joel but somehow end with your crazy family. Before you know it, its borderline midnight. You and Tommy haven't stopped talking- or drinking. He realizes the time. “Shit, I better get home. Joels gonna lose his fuckin’ mind.” You gather Sarah's belongings and hand them to him. He lifts her off the couch and cradles her like a baby. “And I meant what I said about Thanksgivin’. Come join us. Joel’s smokin’ a turkey, and Ill be there, so will Sarah.” he says with a warm smile. “What about Joel's girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to hold him up but desperate for the answer. “That shit was over the minute it started.” He says laughing. You stare him down, not knowing if he is serious or not. “Don't look at me like that, Im serious. Come over, bring some beers and a side. It’ll be great.” He walks out the door, Sarah in his arms and her backpack on his back. 

You fall asleep, weighing the options of Thanksgiving at the Millers. You wonder if Joel even knows he invited you. You want to call him, you want to hear his voice. The way his pet names for you roll off his tongue with his southern drawl. The way he looks into your eyes when you’re moaning his name over and over. The way he holds you when you cum. You turn your light off and drift into a slumber so deep, you don’t even realize it came. Thoughts of Joel bleeding into your dreams, making you smile in your sleep.

[staybabblingbaby]

Best Friend Protocol #14 (Team Meeting part)

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: You're Felix's childhood friend, and you and he have been planning a visit to see him for his birthday for what feels like years now. Unfortunately, SKZ is a very busy group, and the week-long vacation you'd planned for doesn't seem possible.Until Felix decides to ask his bandmates a favor...

Word Count: 2672

Notes: IT'S FINALLY HERE! ALL HAIL THE LEGENDARY FIRST WRITTEN PART OF BFP! I meant to have this out over a week ago, but it's here now! I will be attempting to get a regular chapter out here shortly to fulfil my promised 4 november chapters. Wish me luck! Huge shout out to one of my beautiful beloved betas, @brbwritingfanfic for taking the time to make sense of this damn thing lmao. I appreciate you spotting all my errors, you a real one <3 For those familiar with my archive style and curious, this is A3D2 for this chapter. It was kicking my ASS. If enough folks are interested I don't mind releasing the other attempts, but BFP is a bit divorced from the usual archive proceedings, so I'll leave that up to y'all. I actually really loved how Felix's character came through here, and i'm pretty pleased with how the dialogue turned out. My poor fiance had to sit through like 5 separate rants about how i could not roll back the details enough and kept having to scrap dialogue so it sounded less like AI attempting classical literature.

Warnings: She/Her Reader. Sort of? Polyamory negotiations. More like, the possibility is tossed out there.

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks

Additional Note: I'm always taking interaction requests. Just fyi

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part (coming soon!)

The meeting goes something like this;

They pile into the living room of his and Seungmin’s shiny new dorm without discussion. It makes Felix both nervous and grateful. They’ve always had these meetings wherever Chris happened to be, before. It feels like an unspoken declaration of allegiance. Like they’re letting Felix take the lead, here.

The pressure is kind of getting to him already, as they all settle in. He doesn’t even know how he feels about it all himself, making a decision doesn’t seem like something he should be in charge of right now.

Still, he’s grateful. They’re being so mindful of him in this, and he kind of wants to cry about it. He feels seen, and loved. A bit too seen, maybe, but as embarrassing as it is he’s still a bit gooey inside about it.

Felix drags a beanbag over to where Hyunjin has settled on the couch, plopping down to lean against the other man’s legs. A hand automatically goes to bury itself in his hair, like an anchor against Felix’s stormy thoughts.

The grounding warmth of one of his best friends soothes Felix as Chris calls the meeting to order.  

“So!” Their leader casts an inquiring gaze around the room, “Who wants to start? Where are we at right now?”

A few glances are cast Felix’s way, but he tips his head back against Hyunjin’s knees to avoid their eyes. Everyone must get the message, because no one prompts him.

Jisung is the one who eventually bites the bullet, and Felix sends a silent ‘thank you’ to his birthday buddy.

“Well, I’d like to clarify everyone’s, like, goal in this?” Jisung puts forward tentatively, “Because I’m at the point where it’s more of a ‘I’d like to get to know her’ thing than a ‘I want to date her’ thing.” he shrugs to himself, “I haven’t talked to her much yet, I just think she’s cool.”

“I’m a little bit smitten,” Changbin admits from across the room. He gives Felix an apologetic grimace, but all Felix can do is wave him off with a worried smile. 

“We talked for quite a while the other day and, I dunno... We clicked? I guess? I feel like we did, anyway. I kind of want to see where that could go if we let it.” 

Changbin sends an almost appealing look to Felix as he speaks, and honestly? Super awkward for Felix right now.

Because, see, Felix’s first instinct is to get super defensive and shut everything down. He doesn’t really want to be talking about this, and it scratches at something delicate and boyish in him that they’re having this discussion at all.

It’s embarrassing to know that the feelings he’s kept so close to his chest for so many years are out in the open. It feels a bit like a betrayal that this meeting is about the fact that most of his friends have feelings for the girl he’s had a crush on basically his whole life, instead of planning how to get him to stop being stupid about said crush.

It’s just... Uncomfortable. On so many levels. An ugly monster wants to tear out of Felix’s throat as he locks eyes with Changbin, but a light scratch at his scalp from Hyunjin stalls the beast.

Right. Felix reminds himself that these aren’t any old friends. These aren’t just some acquaintances he could burn bridges with, or strange men he had to protect his angel from.

No, these were his brothers, the people he’d shed blood, sweat, and tears with. The men he’d lived with, grown with, the guys who’d seen more of him than any other person in the world.

Felix finds it in himself to spare Changbin a strained smile. He means it to be reassuring, but he’s so tangled up in his thoughts right now that it’s the best he can offer. The older man seems grateful for it anyway.

He turns his gaze up to Hyunjin, the catalyst of all this, and Felix’s current rock in the storm. He tries to keep in mind how much he loves these people as he moves the conversation forward.

He has to hear them out, at least.

“Thoughts, Hyun?” Felix gently inquires. 

Hyunjin briefly presses his lips together, gathering his thoughts into words. 

“I’ve been pretty open in my flirtation from the start, I think.” he finally says, “So I guess I’m more surprised that anyone else is? Surprised, I mean.”

Felix has to hand him that one. For all that his ‘no flirting’ rule had been mostly a joke, it did mean that he’d expected them to flirt with her. 

He wonders what makes things different now? He’d been okay with the flirting when he’d thought everyone was just joking around, has anything really changed now that he knows it’s real?

Felix sits with that thought while Minho throws his two cents in.

“I don’t think surprised is the right word,” their second eldest ponders aloud, “I’m personally more... worried about how this might work out.” He draws the words out slowly, like he’s tasting the flavor of them before he speaks.

It’s off-putting to hear Minho speak so cautiously- he’s usually so blunt with his words. 

“I’m more worried about how this will affect us as a group,” Minho admits, “I mean, I like her, she’s fun, but I don’t want her if it’s going to cause issues among us.”

And the older man has a point. Anything that causes discord in a group like theirs is a disaster waiting to happen. Especially something like this, where a misstep could lead to long-term resentments and jealousies.

Felix feels pressured by the group’s regard for him all over again. One word from him, and he knows it all ends. The moment he says he can’t handle this is the moment that the rest back off. The emotions won’t fade, Felix knows, but they’d do it anyways.

Because they love him.

He loves them right back.

“I really like her,” Seungmin pipes in, face blank. His eyes cast toward the floor for a moment, before rising again to meet Felix’s. “I really like her,” He repeats, “I don’t know that I would be okay with letting go without trying.”

Felix pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nods at the younger man. His head tips toward his lap while he thinks, brow furrowing as he loses himself to his tumultuous thoughts.

It helps to hear everyone’s feelings put so bluntly, Felix thinks. Having everyone’s stances laid out clearly like a map in his mind’s eye. 

Han, who’s not invested but interested anyways.

Changbin, who’s probably in deeper than he’d really like to be.

Hyunjin, who’d been open about his intentions from the start.

Minho, who the fact that he’s even considering her means more than Felix thinks the man realizes. And yet, he’d give her up at the first seed of discord among the group.

It’s kind of heartwarming, when Felix thinks about how much love their second eldest had shown them with those words. 

Finally, there’s Seungmin. A man whose compliments are hard earned, and whose feelings are closely guarded. A man who’d just handed Felix his heart on a silver platter, trust and love etched in every word, spoken and not.

Felix’s first instinct is still to shut them down. His clouded heart tells him to scoop up his angel and hide her away like a dragon with its hoard. To claim her as his and his alone, and feel slighted if anyone tried to contest that.

But that’s not fair. Not to his members and not to her. Not even to himself.

They’d shown him respect and care every step of the way, the least he could do is give them more than a knee-jerk reaction.

“Is it really all that complicated?” Jeongin ponders aloud.

Their maknae looks almost bored from his armchair, staring at them all. His furrowed brow gives away his worry, as does the way he allows Chris to pull him into the elder’s side with an arm around his shoulders.

“I mean, it’s up to her in the end, isn’t it?” their youngest continues, “she’s the only one that can really make a final call.”

“Could we handle that?” Felix finally speaks up. It’s a little scary having everyone’s attention snap to him like that, but this is the crux of the matter, he thinks.

“If she chooses one of us, could we handle that?” he elaborates.

A contemplative silence descends over the room. Felix kind of wishes he could peek into the member’s brains at this moment. He wants to know if they’re as worried as he is, if they’re worried about the same things he is. 

Because, quite honestly, the more he thinks about it the less he really minds if they flirt with his angel.

It’s taken him this long to untangle the ugly knot of emotions in his chest, and he still can’t see all of it for what it is, but the core of it all, he thinks, is fear.

He’s afraid that, at the end of it all, he’ll be left behind. That he’ll lose two of his very best friends, his favorite people in the world, to each other.

He doesn’t think he could handle that.

It’s an unjustified fear, Felix knows. His bonds with all of these people, the seven present in the room with him and one halfway across the world, are stronger than anything. Forged in fire and elastic with time, he’s sure there’s nothing that could ever truly break them.

That doesn’t stop anxiety from creeping up his spine.

Felix lets his eyes wander around the room, landing on each of his members in turn. It’s like something in him believes that they could guide him in this, just by looking at them, the way his gaze lands heavily on each of their forms.

Hyunjin’s hand drops from his head to knead at the base of his neck, and Felix feels himself soften. A little bit of the anxiety drains from him at the comforting touch, and with it gone he can see something new under the miasma of fear and uncertainty.

It’s bright, like hope, and a bit more exciting. A giddy little thought bubbles up with it-

“What if she chose more than one of us?” Han beats him to the punch. His eyes flick between them all anxiously, looking very much like the rodent he’s nicknamed for, and when he’s met with seven confused stares and Felix’s suppressed grin, he starts to babble.

“I- I mean, we’ve all shared partners before. Like, sexually, at least. I just- I mean- We’re not strangers to sharing, is all I’m tryna say!” Han explains himself.

His shoulders rise up to cherry-red ears under the weight of their stares. Minho places a calming hand on his thigh, even as he pokes holes in the other man’s claim.

“We’ve never shared romantic partners though,” He points out, annoyingly reasonable, “That’s a completely different thing.” 

“I’d be willing to give it a shot,” Hyunjin shrugs when all eyes turn to him.

He was, admittedly, the last of them Felix had expected to back the idea. Hyunjin was the most romantic of them all, and the least likely to indulge one of them in sharing a partner or two.

“I love you guys, and I really like her,” Hyunjin states plainly, “I don’t see an issue with it.”

“So.. what? We try for, like, a.. polycule kinda thing if she wants?” Changbin questions. He scrunches up his face in concern at the concept, pointing out, “That feels a little unbalanced, doesn't it? Is it fair to hinge the whole thing on her?”

“It's going to hinge on her whether it's fair or not,” Jeongin interjects, “You all have crushes on her, not on eachother.”

“I just don’t know how comfortable I can be with that,” Changbin explains, “There’s one of her, and currently six of us. I don’t think it’s humanly possible for her to split her time enough for all of us, and it’s really unfair of us to expect it of her.”

“It could be a good thing, though,” Han argues, “None of us have the time to dedicate to a relationship how we should. Having more than one of us to turn to could be a good thing.”

“Okay, but you’re all forgetting something very important in this hypothetical,” Jeongin stresses the word, making pointed eye contact with his hyungs, “situation. She has to agree to it too. We can’t make a decision without her.”

Felix can't help but be proud of their youngest for reminding them of y/n’s place in all this. It’s not like they’d forgotten, but it was a good reminder anyway. It did feel a bit icky to be talking about their relationship with her like it was a foregone conclusion.

“I’m just saying!” Han proclaims, throwing his hands in the air, “It’s a possibility that we should be open to if it happens!”

Finally, Chris loudly claps to get everyone's attention and forestall any oncoming argument.

“Oh-kay!” he enthuses, “Let’s refocus. Show of hands, are we okay with everyone flirting with her if they want to?”

All hands go up, none of them opposed to anyone else shooting their shot. Felix pretends like all eyes aren’t on him as he easily raises his arm.

“Alright, next” Chris pushes on, “Do we think we can handle it if she chooses one of us?”

Hesitant murmurs sound around the room at this, but Felix has come to an understanding with himself during this meeting, so he speaks confidently when he says, “I think we’ll be okay.”

His words seem to reassure the others, and a ripple of agreement and gentle ribbing starts circling the room.

“Alright,” Chris nods to himself, interrupting the wave before they could get started with any mischief. He really does know them too well.

“And finally,” he starts, an indecipherable expression crossing his face, “show of hands, who’s alright with the poly thing if it comes to it?”

This subject is more divisive, Han, Hyujin, and Felix’s hands going up, but Minho and Changbin stay quiet with worried faces. Seungmin holds his arm out in front of him with his thumb held out sideways. When questioned, he just says he’s not sure how he feels about it yet.

“We’ll circle back on that later, then.” Chris decides, “I think that’s one of those things we need to be unanimous on.”

Agreements sound out, and the atmosphere relaxes. The evening quickly devolves into an impromptu game night, the group quickly descending upon Felix’s console games like a pack of hyenas.

Felix gets up to switch the TV over to his switch, intentions of strong-arming everyone into playing Mario Party in mind. Chris grabs him by the elbow as he walks by, nodding over to the kitchen. Felix follows him over, already unbearably fond. 

“You sure you're good?” Chris asks lowly, “You've been her friend the longest, and we quite literally thought you were dating her already for a while there. They'll back off if you ask, you know.” 

Felix nods, smiling softly at their leader’s care. “I'm good I promise.” he swears, “I meant it when I said I liked it when my favorite people get along.”

He turns to look through the doorway back at the living room. Despite the strange and personal nature of their conversation, jokes and laughter flow easily now. As if there was never any tension at all. 

Felix can feel himself practically melt as he looks at them, a sentiment he knows their leader shares.

“It would hurt,” Felix admits, “If she chose someone else. But there’s no one I’d trust to hurt me more, y’know?”

Chris doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t really need to. He squeezes Felix’s elbow gently as the younger dives back into the chaos, and Felix knows he’s been understood.

Worm List <3 :

@thatgirlangelb , @hyeon-yi, @velvetmoonlght, @missvanjiii, @hanniemylovelyquokka, @vegetablesarefuntables, @scribblesnsketches05, @kkamismom12, @alexateurmom, @baribaaari, @tayla2351, @heart-trees, @unicornwhisperer666, @aalexyuuuhm, @stilldontknowhoiam, @brbwritingfanfic, @kaciebello, @ririzisblu

Perma Tag List <3 : @mbioooo0000

[0cta9on]

One Year of 0cta9on

Hello everyone! :]

Today marks exactly a year since I debuted as a writer! In an ideal world, I would’ve had some crazy story planned for today, but my current circumstances didn’t allow for that, so enjoy this semi-sappy yap session instead :>

I started writing during a particularly low point in my life where my mental health was in the gutters and I had an insane amount of free time. I’ve always liked imagining stories in my head, so the next obvious step was to start writing those stories down. Hence, 0cta9on was born :]

Channeling my energy into something creative provided me with a distraction from all the things that weighed on my mind and become a source of joy for me. While I know I’m not the best or most well-known writer in this community, seeing even a single comment on my work fills me with such an unexplainable amount of joy. To know that there’s people out there that enjoy the silly little stories I put out is genuinely insane in the best way possible <3

Since I’m mainly a fluff writer, I wasn’t sure what other writers in this community would think of me. But my worries were almost immediately quelled when I first joined the writer discord and became friends with a bunch of amazingly talented writers. Shout out to @msafterhours, @writerpeach, @octoberautumnbox, @gangplanksorenji, @prael, @kooyabooya, @okaylikeschaewon, @mintwithchoco, @defmaybe, @sinswithpleasure, @midnightdancingsol, @capslocked, @svndaysaweek, @usedpidemo, and of course many, many more for being so kind and welcoming <3

Recap of my past year of writing:

Wrote 8 chapters of Unlikely Duet, my cute little slice-of-life romance series starring best girl, Minji <3 Chapter 8 is the longest piece I’ve written so far at +18k words!

First Snow was the first fluff one shot I made. Rough around the edges, but we all start somewhere.

Beach Day and Good Idea were my first attempts at writing smut and they are… alright, I guess :> Part of me wants to go back and revise them, but I barely have the time and motivation to work on new drafts ;[

Masterpiece is still probably my favorite fluff one shot I’ve written so far, and while it’s not the best written by any means, I still really like how it turned out :]

FFF2+4 and Train Ride to Heaven for me marked the start of when I started becoming more comfortable writing smut. I’m still not that great, but it’s fun and I think that’s all that counts for me :]

Stuck with You was the first commission I ever did! Writing someone else’s idea is always difficult, but I’m glad the buyer liked the final product :]

Stroke of Luck was the first time I ever wrote a threesome. I think it went okay :>

Wrote And We Danced and Sunscreen for a fun prompt challenge hosted in the writer’s discord (You can thank @mintwithchoco and @msafterhours for these <3). The latter ended up turning into a quaint little mini series :]

Lessons was my second ever commission and my first attempt at femdom. While femdom isn’t really my thing, it was a fun challenge writing about something new and I really like the little gimmick I threw in there :]

I wrote Today, like, two days ago at 1am without much revising or editing (Shoutout @defmaybe for reading through it before I released <3). Go read it if you haven’t yet pls n thenk yew :>

Wrote 15 shorts from ideas submitted by you guys! Some of my favorite stories I’ve written have been shorts and they’re always nice when I’m low on ideas :]

While I likely won’t have anything out for a while, I think it’d be fun to pull back the curtain a little bit and hint at what I’ve been working on :]

🐰🦋// She’s just your coworker. Just that. Nothing else.

🐻👖// It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this?!

🍁✨// Upcoming New Variety Show: Fan Date! Episode 1, starring [REDACTED]

🍔🧀// Time changes, but summer stays the same

I’ve run out of things to talk about, so this concludes my one year anniversary post :> Despite my unplanned and prolonged hiatus, I want y’all to know that I do NOT plan on retiring anytime soon. I have so many stories I still want to tell, whether you like it or not >:]

Have a good day/night and I love yall <3 Have a Minji :]

[tomyo]

I just realized it's been nearly a month and I haven't reported back to the western Soul Eater community the live experience of the Soul Eater Exhibit so here's what I got for you!

First of all, these are taking place at Animate stores and if somehow you think you can make travel plans within the next month or two, there is a third showing in Kyoto happening in January. When entering you are given a random shikishi board and if you paid extra you also get a sweatband (but I did not). I went with a friend who happened to live nearby who helped a lot with getting tickets but they were at the door available as well.

The entrance was a small area that featured the main promotional image and the Excalibur floral display replicating the one in the manga.

Beyond the entrance there was no video allowed and at certain points no photos allowed. Mostly at the end where there were a bunch of Shikishi boards with signatures from staff and voice actors.

What I didn't realize from pictures is that the manga pages shared are the original pages showing all the techniques and mistakes on page. I wish I could share them all but Tumblr is not the place for that. The one I did want to share is a page where presumably Ohkubo and an assistant played tiktaktoe and made and aiaikasa for Renton and Eureka from Eureka7 which was also being released in Shonen GanGan at the same time.

Not all pages of the series were shared and it was more favored to the first half of the series with different section to highlignt characters and story beats. The first main area was after the first curtain (photo above) had Maka's scythe and a copy of each volume hung up on a side wall. You then go through a set of curtains with souls on it into a large space that had the main pairs and additional charactera from the volume art blown up with the corresponding introduction chapters. This is the space with the replica of Shinigami-sama's room. This led into a hall featuring Crona and had a decal of Crona and Maka's shadows holding hands on the ground. Then there was the Excalibur Wall. My memory after that is a little fuzzy because I was distracted/self conscious(Was very amused by another pair as the clear fan explained the series to her friend); if I remember right there was a second hall showing the brew arc then Black Star's final Mifune fight and then a corner space representing the Arcane fight with a blown up decal of Maka in her black blood dress. The space didn't feel like people should walk in it, there was a thin foam on the floor and words from the panel dangling down so you couldn't really see much of the art. Early spartoi passes by really fast in favor of a wider hall with the killing of Medusa; pages on the right with corresponding blown up art on the left. At the end was a giant wall featuring the moon. Then it the pages of the final fight and the display ends with curtains showing Maka and Soul diving into Asura's black blood to find Crona.

The major bit at the end is there is a fully voice acted section of the final chapters of Soul Eater with the manga pages manipulated to it. The motion graphics weren't crazy amazing, about what you'd expect out of a storybook style pv. You were not allowed to take photos or video of this section. So a whole voice recording of what the finale of the manga could sound like could become lost media unless it's released somehow. There's a small final room showing the pages of the final chapters art. A large acrylic display of the meisters in their final character evolution that's backlit. A final space shows off the colored art, the originals if the were done traditionally. There's a small selection of new art, really long piece. Ones that has the og cast and the not girls which probably was during the not era but I don't remember ever seeing it. And then a spread of Spartoi plus Not. Liz and Tsugumi have the best fits in it but I feel a lot of people will like Crona's shirt best. Ohkubo signed a print with a sketch of Maka at the end alongside the two pieces that he love drew on the opening days. In the same space is where the signature shikishi boards were. I was extremely sad that I couldn't take a pic because one had some sort of Maka that was gorgeous but we speculated that it was to avoid signature fraud.

After that you took the stairs down to an extremely tight store. I realized too late that there were no photo signs however it feels like I'm missing some pictures I had taken from my gallery.

This is where I'm gonna be hella real, I do not fucks with Ohkubo's Soul Eater art in recent years. I saw a guy on Tiktok standing by it was his Twitter sketch style but that doesn't work for me with official products. From the perfect edition cover art, to the exhibition special art, to the two??? new pieces for the encore art book; it all feels extremely sloppy in terms of linework, posing, and proportions. If someone were to tell me it's a result of burnout, I would respect that easily but none the less I did not buy anything with the exhibit art on it (sans the pamphlet) more grab the art book. The art book is probably not worth it either unless you weren't able to grab the previous ones. I probably will eventually get it when the English one comes out next year and I probably would've saved money if I bought it while I was there but the weight wasn't worth it and I had in fact spent ¥42,000.

For all the things I did buy, I do regret not picking up some items; an art board from the other artbooks, the sticker set A, the mini towel, and one additional set of the cookies and coffee but as seen above I grabbed a lot and felt pretty aware I had a full basket compared to everyone else. You could also only make one purchase per a ticket and sadly only one commemorative bag per a purchase (I still ended up with two due to my friend). The final thing that you may want to know is the quality of said good; the plushies are worth it simply for existing but could've been higher quality, the ¥7000 (roughly $50) hoodie I bought was extremely thin and has shed so much from the inside that I have yet to wash it in fear it would disintegrate (I'm being slightly dramatic but I truly fear what will happen when I do), and while I did not buy them I did see the in person versions of the made to order items; the skate deck was a proper translation but didn't look particularly nice considering the simplicity of the design and the Soul Jacket was worse than cosplay quality made out of a really thin poly that didn't hold it's shape. ¥18700 yen is about $120 USD right now which is already way too much for the quality but keep in mind the buying power is equivalent to roughly $190. If you want Soul's OG jacket then I would best recommend customizing a real varsity jacket, followed by finding a used one of the original great eastern release, followed by what ever streetwear brand version of your choosing because while they might have inaccuracies, they will at least have ribbed trimming. I know I'm ragging on this pretty hard but I want to emphasize that it is an item you are not missing out on in case you feel the need to proxy order one. The most worthwhile items will be the plushies and food goods, and from there O would call the general Osaka added goods nice. Initially I was not impressed with the acrylic blocks but in person they had nice dimension. Any printed good outside of that is your own discretion albeit I don't think they're particularly going to be high value items in the future.

The final final part is I found out the day before there was a wrapped train for the show. Honestly a higher honor than I expected for the series. However the night before was spent at an Onsen a good distance away and the day of was a downpour so I sadly did not witness it as it would of likely been an effort to find.

I think that's all I can give towards the experience in writing but I will include particular sights in subsequent reblogs.

[sonicboomrevisited]

THE WEEKLY CHECK-IN

Issue 2 Updates:

6/22 Pages have been fully inked

Page 7 is still in the sketching process, but I hope to have the inks started today!

I am technically ahead of schedule on inking pages! Yay!

Issue 1 Page 13 WIPS:

You guys voted last week on what you'd like to see from this blog between now and issue 2s release. WIPs from issue 1 won! Every week, I'll showcase a page. This week I've chosen page 13!

The Initial Sketch: When I first start working on a comic page, I always focus on getting the general layout of the page done first. This means understanding how the panels fit together and jotting down a general sense of the action. You may notice that some of these initial plans changed in the final version. I wasn't originally going to have Amy hit Sonic with her Piko Piko hammer and panel 4 was going to have Sonic kicking Amy again rather than vaulting over her. I wish I had saved more of the in-between sketches to show you guys how these evolved overtime, but I just didn't think to do it during the process. I'm saving a lot of the sketches during Issue 2, though to make up for it!

Final Ink: A page without color! You can see how some of the sizing on the boxes changed, Sonic's surprised face was turned around to better fit with his new vaulting pose and what I originally intended to be a fully in-shadow panel was turned into just having Knuckles in Shadow. This is one of the prettier inks in my opinion. It's the first page that I felt completely happy with the art once it was finished. Looking back now there are things I would do differently, but I can still be proud of it.

Color: And here's the final product, without text, in all it's glory! Coloring is not my strongest suit. In fact, every time I draw something complicated I think about how much trouble its going to be to color later. I'm always up for the challenge, though. If I were to go back and color this page again, however, I probably wouldn't use so many gradients on the background.

Let me know what WIPS from Issue 1 you'd like to see next or if you have any questions about page 13!

[ghostyeyestohide]

What If My Heart Beats Faster?

(I Put A Spell On You Finale)

Pairing: Terrance (Foe) x Valerie (Plus Size Black Fem OC) x Junior (Foe) x Hen (Foe)

Warnings: angst, fluff, blowjob/handjob, dirty talk, memories of sexual contact, happy ending, panic attack, cussing, tears, cause of death revealed, fear, emotions, faux death (side effects of erasing memories), planning pregnancy, mentioning of blood, and Non-Canon/Canon.

Summary: The day Hen and A.I. Junior didn’t want to come has finally arrived. And this greatly affects Valerie and Terrance, who’s life changes after this.

Parts: Part One • Part Two • Part Three

A/N: This is really the end of this. Can’t believe it. But, I’m also happy cause I got that Exotic Travelers series otw + the Macrinus one shot. I want to thank everyone who loved this as not only did I want to at least be one of the few to write about Foe Terrance, but to see how I would’ve written Foe if I was apart of the writers room. And I do apologize if I got some details wrong. I haven’t watched it in a year. Enjoy and send ya around! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

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do not copy or repost my work. I do not authorize it.

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Valerie is in the shower, washing her body as the memories from two nights ago plays in her mind.

Terrance eating her out, her blowing Junior, watching them fuck and kiss, the dance with Hen, the moans, her making out with the men all played as she begins touching herself, gently massaging her breasts before rubbing her clit.

“Fuck….” she whispers, laying against the tiled shower wall as the hot water and steam hits her body.

She begins rubbing faster as the memory of her getting double penetrated plays, her breathing becoming stiffly. As Terrance releases inside her, she also meets hers, feeling her body tense up and shaking. After relaxing from her high, she rinses her body again before getting out of the shower, wrapping herself in a bath robe.

Walking into the bedroom, she sees a bouquet of roses and three different sizes white boxes lying on the bed. Thinking he must’ve slipped in while she was in the shower, she picks up the envelope attached to one of them. She opens it and pulls out a note that read:

“Hey, baby. I know you were very lonely last night with me not being next to you. So was I. And no, I didn’t do what you think I did. I heard your order subconsciously. Even if you didn’t say it. So, I went into the city and bought you your favorite flowers and some things I want to see you wear tonight. Almost like you’re my personal prize. For now, I have to check on him, Hen, and when real Junior is on his way. See you soon, Val.

- T. “

She smiled, kissing the note before putting it back carefully and tossing it on the bed. Grabbing the first box, a small one, she removes the top, revealing itself as a matching dangling diamond earrings and diamond choker jewelry set that has the same exact design of her engagement ring. She gasps, gently picking up the items.

“Oh wow. He finally found it.” she said, remembering she mentioned wanting the set to him a long time ago, but had no luck since it sold out quickly after restocks.

After placing the set on her vanity table, she grabs the medium box, taking a seat on the bed. Placing it on her lap, she removes the top, revealing a pair of brown pumps, lined with a forrest green patch on the back. She traces it before placing her foot in it, making sure it fits, which it does.

She takes it off and pulls the final box, believing it’s the outfit. Removing the top, she sees a forrest green fabric. Pulling out, it reveals itself as a long dress with a reveal cleavage line that has a seen-through bottom that shows where the inner dress stops at, which is above the knee.

“Oh my……” is all she could get out, thinking if this is too revealing or he really does want me to feel like a prize.

Standing up, she walks to the mirror and presses the dress to her body, seeing his vision. Smiling, she hangs it up on a rack and begins getting ready for Junior’s homecoming.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

A few hours go by and Valerie, now wearing a satin robe and has hair rollers in her head, walks into the kitchen, looking to get something to drink.

As she takes out a bottle of water, she hears a hard knock on the front door, making her jump a bit. Cautiously, she walks to the door, pulling the curtain back, and peering out the window. She sees Junior, all tensed and pacing, on the porch.

“What is he doing here?!” she whispers as she opens the door.

“I’m sorry for showing up, but I can’t go back there, Val.” he says, walking past her.

She nods in an aggravated manner, closing the door behind her. She turns to look him, but he’s not behind her. Looking around, she searches the house for a few minutes before finding him in the kitchen, laying against the island.

“Junior….you can’t be here.”

“You have to listen me! This is all a setup!“ he says in a irate voice.

“For what?”

“Him! He’s the one who’s gonna be here while I’m gone.”

“….what?” she said with a confused expression.

“Its him. He’s gonna replace me. I thought I would let you know so when he leaves you, it’s not the first time you’re finding out.”

Staring at him with a baffled look on her face, she breaks out laughing, making him look at her in a confused way.

“It’s not funny…..he’s really playing the both us.” he says as her laughing grows louder.

Finally, she catches her breath, grabbing the water bottle and taking a few sips before clearing her throat.

“You’re funny, but seriously. You need to leave. He’ll be pissed if he comes home and finds you.” she said, gently pushing him.

“What?! Valerie, I’m being serious! I have proof that he is going to be my replacement!”

“Junior, if that was the case, you would be deceased right now. Me included. Now please go!”

“Why? Don’t you see he’s just dumping you out here so you have nowhere to go?! You come from nothing like you said!”

“I’m not stupid and he’s not throwing 8 years away for Hen!”

“Some people can be deceiving!”

“Yeah? Why don’t you take a look in the mirror for once?” she said, giving up on pushing him.

“What is that suppose to mean?”

She chuckled, stepping into his space.

“…It means you wasn’t like this two nights in that room, drunk off your ass.” she whispers, leaning forward.

Junior steps back, staring at her bizarrely, with her smile dropping.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t remember? Or is this your way of hiding the fact that you’re gonna miss the both of us, or just him?” she asks, sending him a smirk.

“Why the hell would I be doing that? See, you’re not realizing he’s not suppose to be alone with my wife! You been falling for his lie too long!” he replied, very angry as he pointed at the door.

Looking at him dazedly, she’s thinking why doesn’t he remember what we did. Then it hit her: he erased that memory out of his mind like he said he would. She smiled, covering her mouth to not let out a laugh.

“Oh, now you’re getting it through your fucking head. Your husband’s a fraud!”

“No, he’s not. If anything, he’s a genius who has a great self awareness skill that they’re gonna teach the new OuterMore generation one day. God, I need to fuck him when I see him.” she says, whispering the last part to herself.

“No. What we need to do is go save my wife and we can all escape from thi-“ he says as he grabs her arm.

She snatches it back, slapping him across the face as a reflex. He yells, grabbing his face.

“Are you insane? I’m not in danger and neither is you! All you have to do is go back home to her and everything will go back to normal!” she responds, very irritated.

He looks at her, very enraged. He walks towards her slowly, making her back up until she’s leaned up against the island. He places his hands on each side of the island, blocking her in. She leans back slightly as he leaned forward.

“…fine. You can stay here and continue living under his control like you been doing. But me? I’m getting out of here. And I’m taking her with me. If you get consequences because of my decision, that’s on you.” he whispered, turning to leave.

Scoffing really loud, she follows him, watching him walk.

“He doesn’t control me.”

“Yeah fucking right.” he mumbled, making her even more heated.

“He listens to whatever I want to make sure my needs are met. You know why? Because he actually loves me.”

“Oh please. You two aren’t as different as you believe.”

“We are. You wanna know how? He didn’t start treating bad because he didn’t want to hear my suggestion of visiting downtown or a big city due to not wanting to lose me. He values my feelings, and he actually holds himself accountable if he does anything I don’t like that hurts me. He loves this job, but he would never put it over me, no matter what. He knows how to love. I’m sorry for whatever memories the real Junior put inside you because if this assignment taught me anything: even if you attempted to fix something that’s broken, it can’t be salvaged if it’s damaged a lot, no matter how hard you try.” she said, immediately gasping, regretting what she said.

Junior stopped in his tracks, replaying the last part she uttered. Slowly turning to face her, he looks at her, appalled.

“…what do you mean the real Junior?” he asks.

“….I’m afraid I said too much.” she whispers.

“No, no. What are you trying to say?”

She stares at him, afraid to respond to his question. Then, she feels a sharp pain on her lower hip, making her wince and collapse as she grabs it. Junior runs over, kneeling as she begins to breathe very harshly.

“Where does it hurt?! Maybe I can get you ice and it will calm it do—“

“What I need you to do is shut the hell up right now! It’s just a painful shock that goes….away….after….a few…moments.” she says, her words trailing as the sensation winds down.

Weirded out by what he witnessed, he backs away, fearing what was going to happen next. She checks and moves her hips, seeing if something’s out of place so she can tell Terrance.

Feeling a loose screw sticking out, she gets up and walks carefully to the kitchen, looking around for a small tool box. Checking the drawers, she comes across nothing until she sees a box in the fifth one and takes it out. Opening it, she looks through it to find a screwdriver with the same edge to fit until pulling one. Placing it on the screw, she twists it, feeling pressure each time until it’s back in its socket, no longer out of place. She looks at Junior, who is now standing up, horrified look across his face.

“…..are you….not…t-the real Valerie?” he asks frantically.

“…..no. You’re not the real Junior either. That’s why he—we— came back after two years. The time has ended.”

“What?” he said, looking distraught.

“He’ll be home in less than four hours.” she replied, holding back sadness.

“…does Hen kn—“

“Always did. That’s why she was acting odd with you the whole time. Him questioning, doing measurements, checking your health, following everything you do….just to make sure you’re not slowly realizing you’re the replica.”

He looks around the room, in shocked that everything he thought he knew was all just to trick him.

“Is she coming home too?”

She shakes her head, hoping he’ll stop asking before the pressure of revealing the truth settles in.

“Why not?”

“….she’s dead. Died about five years ago.” she admitted, with shame behind her tone.

“…..did he kill her?”

“No! He would never do…..he would never….do that…” she said, her voice breaking as she begins to cry, slowly falling to her knees.

Junior, feeling empathetic, walks to her, kneeling down. He pulls her into his chest, letting her cry everything out as he rubbed her back. After a few minutes, she lifts her head, slightly wiping her already swollen eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to throw that accusation out like that.”

“You’re fine. But no. He didn’t kill her. He loved her too much to ever do that.” she said, sniffling.

“Then what happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Sighing, she gets up, walking into another room. A few minutes later, she returns with a file folder, handing it to him. He hesitantly grabs it, putting it on the floor and opening it as she heads to the kitchen.

Inside, he finds pictures of her, her and Terrance, some baby photos, documents of many things, her birth certificate, and her ‘cause of death’ report next to a group photo, in which he picks up, of her and others, wearing OuterMore gear, with a sign that says: Group 1 - May 1, 2060.

“Is this a mistake? I thought the space program didn’t launch until ‘61?”

“It didn’t. The program launched in 2060, meaning they been doing it for five years, not four. They changed it to cover their tracks.” she says, sipping her water.

“Why?” he asks, looking at her.

“….the first launch was a failure. A tragic one that no one saw coming. Not even Terrance.”

“What was it…”

She sighed, walking back to him to sit in front, sliding the folder between them as she cleared her throat.

“Every thing I told you and Hen about her did actually happen. She is from New York, she doesn’t know her family, she was bouncing back and forth between jobs because of harassment, she did meet Terrance at his post-grad party, they did get married after six months of dating, and she did travel with him for these assignments. He didn’t make none of this up for me to say, these are the memories that were implanted so I can function exactly like her, even though I’m just her replica.”

“Does it feel odd?”

“…at first, it did. But that’s because I had no idea what was going on truly and he was hurting really bad because of what happened, which is what I’m about to tell you.”

She exhales slowly, feeling herself tensing up.

“I’m sorry if I get very emotional. Not only is this…very hard to talk about still….it was never Terrance’s fault. He still believes that til this day, even though he’s been over it, but…it’s a haunting memory to carry on, you know?” she says, trailing off as the sheer weight of it.

Junior nods, gently rubbing her hand. She smiles a little, looking at the group photo.

“The program launched, so they had their first lottery. It was random and included everyone who lived in the United States for more than 15 years. Hence why they went with 15 people. And she got selected, much to her and Terrance’s surprise. She was scared because she didn’t think it was gonna happen this soon. But, since he worked on this program, she trusted a lot with everything, so it’s not like nothing could go wrong.”

She looks at him, seeing the somberness filling up in his face.

“The day came. She was nervous to leave him behind, but he encouraged her a lot to have fun in space, saying he’ll still be here in two years, almost like a promise. They kissed and hugged one last time before she got on the ship. He didn’t know that would be the last time he’ll see her alive.” she says, looking at the death report as the memory of latter played in her head.

“It took off, in which they called a “successful launch from base”. But, a few minutes after takeoff, two of the engines went out, making the ship move but not as fast. None of the crew knew what happened until it was too late. Cause a few moments later, the ship exploded, killing everyone on board.”

“My god…..” he whispered.

“They couldn’t believe it. They made sure everything was fine. Nothing seemed off and they had a test run, which they passed. What did they accidentally overlook? The fuel tanks. The gas from their boosters leaked into those due to the seals being loose, which they still don’t understand how that happened. But, when that gas mixes with the fuel tanks gas…..well, you see the result.”

“Was all this explained to you immediately? When you woke up?”

“….no. When I woke up, I was expecting him to be there, taking in my design, my behavior, the way I moved, the way I was examining my surroundings….”

She looks at their wedding picture, hanging above the fireplace.

“He didn’t come home for three days. I tried to get in contact with him many times, but his calls went to voicemail. I contacted OuterMore, who said they were going through this tragedy each time, but they’ll rely the message. I was angry because I thought I did something wrong and he was purposely avoiding me. When he finally came home, I was ready to argue about it, but….he looked so worn out. He definitely was crying, his eyes all red and a bit swollen, chapped lips, disheveled clothes, moving very slow.”

She looks down, trying to not cry again as that night begins to play in her mind.

“When he saw me, he stopped. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t. I just….walked up to him, expecting him to back up, but he stood there, kept his gaze on me. I touched his face, gently tracing over his lips, and quietly asked what happened?” as she wipes her eyes.

“I guess the sound of hearing her voice again broke him because he fell to his knees and started crying against my stomach, holding me very tight. I let him stay there, rubbing his head and absorbing his sadness. For the next two months, he was very distant, but was slowly explaining what had happened, what I was, and them trying to figure out a solution to keep us functioning past the two years since they immediately decided that they weren’t taking us back when the deadline came.”

“Did you feel like it was damage control?” he asked, but she shook her head as she looks at him.

“Like I said, it was an accident. They didn’t know the seals were loose. But it was very uncomfortable with different OuterMore employees stopping by every day to examine and update you until the solution came. Of course, that caused a bit of a strain between us.”

“Why?”

“….you don’t really get over losing your spouse. But, you also don’t like when even your own co-workers are making the replica of your spouse uncomfortable with changes and there’s nothing you can do about it. I tried to vouch for them as them doing their job, but he didn’t wanna hear it and just kept ignoring my suggestions. That made me question if I even wanted to be married to him still.”

“But you two got over it.”

“Yeah. After I ran away.”

“…..you ran away?”

“It was a day that none of the workers came. Like a holiday or day off, can’t remember. It was raining too. A lot for Cleveland. He was being a pain in the ass, stressing from work and stuff. So, being a good wife, I was trying to calm him down, made his favorite meal and just give him love. He liked the meal, and was enjoying me kissing him, even rubbing on him but of course, a phone call of OuterMore just had to interrupt this.”

“Damn.” he said, laughing which made her laugh as well.

“Don’t get me wrong. I was sexually deprived and wasn’t about to force him to fuck me. But, I was very annoyed with that and just let him have it as soon as he ended the call. Asking him why are you treating me this way, I know you’re going through it with losing her, but I don’t like feeling the burden of it, and asking him to just love me, not push me away. He berated me, saying I’m doing the best I can to make sure I can move on from this, saying its harder for him because he has to spend the rest of his life with a replica of his dead wife ruining….”

Her voice trailed off as she became very teary eyed, trying to clear her throat.

“When I look back at it, I can tell he didn’t mean it. He was just reacting off anger and instantly regretted it as soon as he was done, noticing I had a terrified look on my face.” she said, sniffling. “He tried to apologize, saying he didn’t mean it, but I didn’t want to hear it. So, I slapped him, said fuck you, and ran out of the house in tears, ignoring his pleas.” she said, watching the memory in her head.

“Not sure how far I ran because I didn’t know the Cleveland area that well. I know I was by a bridge that faced the skyline before it started to rain. So, I went over to this dark area, which was a bad idea cause dogs started to bark and I fell a few times to get away until I was under this big tree. Covered in mud, hair was just ruined, and my dress was ripped. I sat close to it and just cried, thinking he wasn’t going to find me and I was gonna die. I fell asleep a few minutes later, as the rain picked up, which felt very calming in that moment.” she said, smiling a bit.

“When I woke up….I noticed I was in the passenger seat of a moving vehicle, wanting to get out. But as I was about to find something to open the door, I feel a hand touch my thigh. I looked over and I saw him, eyes & nose red and swollen. He had been crying, fearing he had lost me for good. He didn’t say anything, just gently pushing me back into my seat, signaling everything is going to be okay.” she said, tugging at her robe.

“When we got home, he turned on the shower for me. He removed my dress, panties, and shoes before letting me walk into and wash up. He removed his clothes and joined me, helping me wash my hair and scrub my body. I felt like I was being pampered, with him not saying anything, just being active. As we got out, he oiled up my body, just gently massaging it into my skin, which felt nice. Next thing you know, I’m on my back, getting fucked like it was our last time toge—.” as the memory of him fucking her in missionary played.

“Alright, I don’t need to hear that.” said Junior.

“Just saying, Junior! Asking me who pussy it is, saying you’re mine, don’t forget that, worshipping me….he was really sorry. Sure, we went back to our regularly scheduled program, but he started paying attention to me, love me, and console me. And we just grew from there……that’s all I wanted.”

“And you got it.”

“I know that’s what you want, but in your situation, it’s not possible. Which is why you need to go back or risk getting Terrance in trouble.”

“What happens if I refuse? Just go AWOL?”

“They take me away. He loses his job. And I probably will see him again, just everything is gonna to be er…..”

As she’s about to say something, the burning sensation returns, this time, feeling even worse and making her scream as she touches it, falling back and wincing in pain.

“Valerie, are you okay?!” he asks, kneeling next her as he touches her.

“You have to leave!” she yells out, trying to ease the pain.

“But you hurt.”

“I will be fine! It’s not worth getting caught over. Please….just go.” she replies, groaning as the sensation starts spreading.

Hesitate to leave, Junior looks at her one more time before getting up and running out of the door, taking the shortcut back home through their backyard.

As her groans turn into cries, she begins saying little prayer, hoping she’s not shut down as her breathing sped. Finally, after a few minutes of agony, it stopped, with her breathing returning to normal. She begins to cry, scared of what’s going to happen next.

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About 45 minutes later, the front door swings up, with Terrance walking in.

Having an infuriated look across his face, he checks around the house to see if Junior was there, finding no traces before heading upstairs.

After checking the guest room and hallway bathroom, he walks into the bedroom, pushing the door open hard, making Valerie, who was doing her makeup again, jump.

“….was he here?” he asked in a stern voice, examining the room.

“…..no.” she replied, lying through her teeth.

“Why the long pause?”

“You scared me?” she said, looking at him.

“….Ima ask you again. Was Junior here?”

“And I’m telling you again: no.” she replied, looking away from him.

“….okay, okay. I see you wanna do that.” he mumbled, removing his jacket and tossing it on the floor.

Locking eyes with her through the mirror, he closes the door, calmly walks towards her, who resumes her routine, not trying to show she’s hiding the truth.

“….you know I can tell you’re lying, right?” he asked, flashing a small grin.

“How so?” she asked.

“It’s almost….” as he looks at his watch, “three hours before real Junior gets here. And normally around this time, you’re done with your hair and makeup. That’s one thing.”

“I could’ve woken up late.”

“See? That’s how I know you didn’t. You said could’ve.”

She rolls her eyes, breaking his hold as she got up and walked into the bathroom.

“There you go, walk off as soon as I point something out.”

“Did something happen?” she asks, popping her head out the door.

“You’re not usually an asshole when you come back to check on me.” she said, standing in doorway to look at him.

He lets out a harsh sigh before kneeling in front of her, being very close in her space.

“You tell me. Woke up, made breakfast with Hen, which woke him up. We all ate and told him that me and her are going in town for something and we’ll be back in a few hours or less. We actually went to headquarters to make final arrangements as we anticipate his return.”

“If you think submitting to me is suppose to make me ease up on you, it’s not working.” she says, walking past him.

He smirks before bouncing up to his stance, grabbing her by her robe train and turning her away from him, scaring her.

“We come back and he’s nowhere to be found. Didn’t even bother to take his truck. So now, we sent out search parties because it’s a good measurement for the company, right?” he whispers, walking her towards the bed.

“What are you doing….” she asks in an alarmed tone.

He ignores her, turning her around to place her on the edge, gently tracing her face.

“….WRONG!” he yells, slams his hands by her sides, making her jump.

He lets out a broken, haunting chuckle as Valerie feels her face beginning to burn because of his troubling glare at her.

“As I’m waiting for an update on him, Bill comes over. He was very chipper, praising how I did a great job with this one and is thinking about working on that special request I asked him for when I submitted the lab analyst application. Said I got the job. Meaning we’re staying here…”

“…so then what happen?” she whispered, but he shushes her.

“Now here he is, looking crestfallen as if I betrayed him. He pulled me to the side, asking me if everything is alright? and I said yes. Confused in my mind. Then he dropped it: he’s suspending me.” he says, kneeling in front of her, placing his hands on her thighs.

“…..don’t tell me its because of…..”

“Yeah. They’re opening an investigation of violation against policy article 7, title 2: non-sexual contact between the associate and assignment, consensual. Hen told one of them in secret while we were at the headquarters. Said she heard him moaning, my movements, and…..said to look into you as she heard your voice as well.” he said coldly.

Valerie’s heart dropped, hearing the news. She begins breathing erratically as tears begin to fall out of her eyes.

“They’re taking you tomorrow. I don’t know how long you’re going to be gone or if you’re coming back, but that’s his decision.” he says, rubbing her hands.

“They can’t! I refuse!” she yells, getting up as she pushes him off.

She begins pacing the room, trying to catch her breath as Terrance watches her, not used to seeing her react like this.

“You erased everything, right? Why can’t they just use A.I. Junior to dismiss her claim?!”

“They were. Until you got brought up. I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have went into that room. I knew it was a risk, but god…I wasn’t prepared for this.” she says, breaking down as her cries fills the room.

He looks down, sniffling as he’s hurt at seeing her heartbroken like this, not wanting to cry with her.

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should’ve stopped when he kissed me, but…..I gave into my own urges. And now, I have to pay the price…I’ll resign.”

“No! You worked too damn long for this, you can’t just give up!” she yelled, looking at him.

“They’re taking you and I can’t do anything until it’s over. Whether they keep you for good or you come back, I can’t fight it…I’m sorry, Val.”

“Then erase the memories then. You said it only takes 30 minutes, ri—“

“No!” he replied as he stood up, silencing her.

She looks away, wiping her tears as he walks to her, sitting down to face her.

“That machine is dangerous and can have long term effects on you if I hooked you to it. Plus, I don’t have it just laying around to use.”

“Then just turn me off.” she said as she lays on her back, looking at the ceiling.

“Why can’t you have hope that I beat this investigation?”

“Because when they see the way you were fucking him, they’re not giving me back to you. So let’s just get this over with and you can move on with your life.”

He laughs stiffly, fighting hard not to react angrily or break down.

“And what? Just accept the fact that OuterMore took away my wife twice? Keeping all of her DNA and data as if she wasn’t the love of my fucking life?! Is that what you want?”

“You were literally suggesting resignation and now, you’re upset that I’m suggesting a better solution?!”

“I don’t want us to be separated!” he yelled.

“Hell. I don’t want us to end…..it doesn’t feel like I have spent enough time with you.” he looks at her with pity in his eyes.

“Don’t say tha……” she whispers, tears filling up in her eyes.

He crawls next to her, laying down as he gently rubs her stomach, watching her tears fall.

“8 years. Three with her. 5 with you…..”

“….that’s almost a decade. And we did a lot of things. Visited different cities, tried different foods, you gifting me a lot of things, made love in different areas….and with other people.” she replied, making the both of them laugh.

“Yeah. I guess we did have a good ride.”

They laid in silence for a few moments before she looked at him, tracing his lips. Sitting up, she places a few kisses on him before giving him a passionate kiss. He tries to fight back, but she holds him down, climbing on top on him. He breaks the kiss, catching his breath.

“Baby, as I much as I want to, I have to get back soon.”

“Then let me take care of you real quick. Just so you’re a little more relaxed.” she whispers, slowly unbuttoning his pants and sliding her hand into his boxers.

“Val, plea…” he replied as she wraps her hand around his aching length, making him grunt loud.

“Come on. You’re already hard….at least let me fix this.” she replied, moving herself towards the end so his length is in her face, gently stroking him.

He lets out a few hisses, biting his lip as he unbuttoned his shirt and removes it, gently guiding her to his length to engulf it, in which she does.

“Fuck. God, your mouth is warm…..” he mumbles, watching her bobble her head up and down.

Sounds of slurping and moans fills the room as she removes his length from her mouth, catching her breath as she stroked it faster, locking eyes with him.

“You like when I do that? Make you wince and moan like a man should?”

“Yes.” he moans, feeling his release building up. “How are you so good at?” he asks her in a whisper tone.

“Cause you made me like that. You and your nasty ass thoughts begging me to treat you like you did something bad….” she replied, tracing his head with her tongue, making him moan loud.

“Mm, you’re sick. You know that? You enjoy watching your wife fuck a bunch of women while you play with yourself cause you’re a piece of shit…”

“I am.” he replied, letting out a groan as he feels himself getting closer and closer, making her laugh.

“Oh you are?”

“Yes. I’m a piece of shit.”

“I should deny your pathetic ass your release right now, but I wanna see you squirm as you look at me with those pitiful eyes one last time.” she replied, stroking faster.

“Yes. I deserve that.” he whispers.

“Come on. Give it to me.”

“Fuck.”

“Give it to me, you piece of shit!” she yells, sticking her tongue.

As she said that, his release washes over him, shooting into her mouth and face. She kisses the tip one more time before wiping her face with her hand, licking up every drop as he huffed and puffed. She smiled before fear struck her, fading into a worried look.

“…..he was here.” she confessed.

Terrance shot up, looking at her with an irate glare. He leans into space, making her look away.

“…..why was he here?”

“He was…was trying to run away, attempting to recruit me to join him and rescue Hen, but I told him no and to leave before you came back.”

“Is that all that happened?”

She went quiet, praying that he doesn’t explode at the next thing she tells him.

“He insulted me, saying I’m under your control and I….”

He leans closer, gently turning her face to look at him, regret all over her expression.

“Valerie, what happen….”

“…..I revealed the truth in the heat of the moment. Fuck, I’m sorry..” she admits, immediately crying.

Terrance looks at her with disgust before getting up, quietly putting back on his clothes, turning to the door.

“Where is he at?”

“Should be home. I told him its not worth going AWOL cause we could get in tr—“

“Oh, you remembered the we part in that moment, huh?”

“I just said I was heated!”

“That don’t mean shit right now! I told you countless of times to not let anyone’s talking get under your skin so bad that you reveal everything we worked hard on covering for two years!” he yells at her.

“You know she and I take no one’s shit, so sorry for defending me.”

“You’re not her!” he yells, shaking his head.

She gasped, caught off by that statement. Tears begin filling in his eyes, rage taking over his body.

“You will never be my Valerie. Cause she can manage anger control better than you can. That’s what makes you two different.”

She laughs stiffly, getting up to sit at the vanity, examining her face.

“Well, if she was still alive, she would’ve abandoned you for how much of a pussy you are. That’s why you submitted to her real easily because you’re used to being walked over by anyone. And eventually, she would’ve gotten sick of it.”

“You wouldn’t know. You’re just a replica after all.”

“A replica of your deceased wife that you refuse to move on from because deep down, you’re the reason she’s dead in the first place. You and OuterMore took her out and you hate that.” she says as she begins washing her face with a cleanser.

“Watch your fucking mouth.” he says, pointing at her.

“Go fuck yourself, Terrance. Maybe the way I’m feeling is the reflection of her true feelings. She couldn’t push it out before it was too late!”

“I said ENOUGH!” he yells, making her pause and turn to look at him .

“Go away. It’s not like you have anything left to say other than you fucked yourself over by immediately taking the job offer from them and dragged her into it.”

Terrance stares at her with an intense glare before walking towards the door and opening it, pausing in his movement.

“……I just wanted to say: I have always loved you. That was real. I’m sorry if you felt different from it.” he said before walking out, slamming the door.

She sits in silence for a few minutes before letting out a scream, crying into her hands. She looks at herself in the mirror, seeing how red and puffy her face is.

Getting up to go the bathroom, she finishes washing her face and reapplying her makeup before putting her dress and shoes on, finally being dressed.

Examining herself in the mirror, she smiles a little bit, trying to regain confidence in her and not show that they are fighting. Accepting what she sees, she turns to leave, but it stopped suddenly by her dress being caught on the knob of the lower cabinet.

“Really….as if this day couldn’t get worse?” she mumbles as she tries to remove it, but it doesn’t budge.

After a few more pulls, the dress finally unhooks, but opens the door and something falls out. She picks it up to put it back, but stops as she recognizes the ‘OuterMore’ logo on the top. Placing it on the counter, she lift up the top, which turns on instantly, popping up a screen that reads: OM Eraser V2.

“…..he lied or he fucking forgot.” she mumbled, going through the menu options.

Seeing the ‘Set Up Memories To Erase’ option, she clicks on it. Reading the instructions to insert where the holes are behind your ears, she retrieves her pouch, unzipping to use her magnetic tool.

Picking it up, she holds up a mirror to get a closer view, as she places it behind her left ear. Watching it connect to a spot, it lights up a white glow shield before it opens, revealing the two holes need on that side. She does the same behind her right ear.

Reading the instructions, she inserts a white colored tube into the top one, which instantly connects and lights up as she inserts the second tube, a clear one, into the bottom one, which connects and sucks out blood, which is to monitor her vitals as the process happens. She winces, feeling uncomfortable with these inserted in her as she continues.

“Please go through the files and choose which memories to erase to begin the process. Be weary of your choices as this cannot be undone.” the female generated voice said, presenting the files on the screen.

Carefully looking through them, she chooses the night they hooked up with Junior, the exchange she had with him in the hallway, her catching him playing with himself, any admissions of Terrance crushing on him, the moments she looked at the window of Junior watching them fuck, and lastly, the conversations from today.

“Before we proceed, you do have the option to import memories that didn’t happen, but could be created to make it seem like it was. Would you like to do that?” she asks, showing her a YES or NO option.

Valerie thought about it, concerned about what fake memories it’s going to implant in her head and is this going to ruin the real ones she still has. She worries if he’s gonna treat her differently when he finds out what she did or she’ll remember him at all.

After thinking on it for a few more minutes, she clicks the YES option, holding in her breath.

“The process will begin as soon as you click the BEGIN button. It will take 30-35 minutes to wipe everything out and you may experience a death that seems real, but it’s just fictional. Some short term effects include dry mouth, headache, confusion, pain/swelling, muscle aches, and fatigue.”

Looking at herself in the mirror one last time, she clicks the button, patiently waiting for it to happen. Looking at the white tube, it slowly begins to fading into a blueish-green color, signaling that the process is starting.

Suddenly, she feels a shock shoot inside her, making her collapse to the floor in excruciated pain, gasping for air. She begins to shake violently, feeling her body slowly shutting down.

“No….please..” she mumbled, trying to pull the tubes out, but gets shocked.

Her vision becomes blurry as she looks at the machine, which shows that 1% of the process has occurred.

Then her eyes begins to blink…

And blink….

And…..blink.

And….bli…

An……

She enters a deep, dark space. Just floating around.

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Valerie wakes up on a gurney, confused by her surroundings. Noticing she’s in a van by herself, she gets up and pushes the doors open, jumping out.

Noticing its dark and the area is surrounded by a lot of OuterMore employees, from crew building a satellite to associates chatting in circles, she concludes that this is not her house.

But whose house is it?

Feeling very sore and the headache is overbearing, she sits on the ledge, gently rubbing her head. Looking at her hands, she notices the dry patches of blood all over them.

“….who’s blood is this?” she whispers, feeling her mouth and throat being very dry.

She touches all over, seeing if they cut her open while she was knocked out until she touches the back of her ears, making her wince. Then, the bruising overtakes her neck, causing her to lay back. Then, a few visions, from yelling with her old housemates to her being harassed by group of men, played in her mind, making her jump up.

Why is that showing? What does it have to do with….whatever is going on now?

“Valerie?” said a slightly familiar voice, making her turn around.

A man in a black suit runs to her, carrying a bottle of water as she stood there, not knowing what to do or say. He tries to hug her, but she steps back, making him look at her in a confusing way.

“….honey, it’s me? Terrance? Your husband?” he said, holding up his hand to flash his wedding band.

She looks at him, not moving by what he said, still thinking. His gaze drops, turning into a worried look.

“Oh my god, you don’t remember anything…..” he whispered, sitting on the ledge before he dropped to the floor.

She looks around, noticing no one else is watching them before sitting next to him. About to say something, she begins to cough very hard due to the dryness in her throat, making him twist the cap off and press the bottle to her lips, signaling her to drink it, in which she does.

“….you woke up just in time for his arrival.”

“W-whose arrival?” she asks, looking at him.

“Juni…nevermind.”

“….are we far from New York?”

“Been far. 8 years straight.”

“…….was I kidnapped?”

“No. Not at all. You met me at my postgrad party. Went on a few dates, moved in with me, and we got married.” he replied, gently picking up her hand to show her the engagement and wedding rings.

“Do we have kids?”

“No. None at all. That’s what I was trying to make happen before my suspension.”

“Suspension…..”

“How do I explain this….um. The house we’re currently at? This is the house of my current assignment. He has a…robot version of himself living with his real human wife. He comes home in 45 minutes, but he’s not why I’m suspended.”

“Is she the reason?”

He smiled, in awe of how she doesn’t understand what’s going on, which is a side effect of temporary memory loss, which will return in a few hours or less.

“….yeah. But, it’s mostly my fault.”

“Why?”

“Well. To make a long story short: you’re not a human like me and her. You’re actually a robot version of my deceased wife, who died the day you were installed. So, because of this, we trained you to make sure you never reveal your true self to anyone, even the robots of our assignments.”

“So you’re my master.”

“No!” he says loudly, startling her.

“Sorry, no. I didn’t mean to say it like that.” as he rubbed her hands.” But no. I’ve always hated when anyone described it as that.”

“But, is it not?”

“Not the way I see it. You’re someone I know, not someone I just….own. But, I’m suspended because his wife complained to one of my co-workers, who told my boss, that I broke company policy. Which I did. And they’re investigating me…..and you.”

“Why? I didn’t do nothing.” she said, pointing at herself.

“Basically, you are company property, despite having my late wife’s DNA in you. Meaning we can check for memories. So, because you were a witness to the violation, they’re taking you away to see what happened. And if they determine that I indeed violated it, I get fired and they keep you for good.” he says, looking down.

“…..so this is our final goodbye? Is that why I have blood all over my hands?”

“I found you on the bathroom floor like that. Was coming back to pick you to bring you hereI didn’t tell them that part, or how you were hooked to the Eraser. Which I’m assuming is why you can’t remember a damn thing right now. Either you successfully got rid of the evidence or you accidentally erased everything.”

“Is this why everything feels…..groggy?”

“Mmhm. But it will go away.”

She smiles a bit before drinking more of the water. She locks eyes with a worried Hen on the porch, who looks away immediately as Bill talks to her.

“Did you two have a fight?”

“No. Haven’t mentioned that I’m aware of what she did.”

“No. You and….Valerie. Well, me.”

“Um….yeah. If anything, we said things we shouldn’t had.”

“Like what?”

He shifts in his spot, turning to face her, who’s waiting to hear his response.

“To be fair, I said she’ll never be real Valerie. All because I was upset that she revealed her true self and the robot’s actual self. Then, she said if real Valerie was still alive, she would’ve left me by now because I’m….”

He begins sniffing, which makes her slightly panic and rub his shoulder.

“We don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.” she said, gently wiping his face.

“No, no. Its fine. I’m just….getting emotional because the more I think about it, the more I realize that she would’ve been right. She did hate seeing me down whenever I came home and told her that they keep shooting down my ideas. She egged me on to stand up, which i slightly did, but that wasn’t enough. I do think she was uncomfortable with the treatment, but I wasn’t taking it seriously.”

“Do you wish you did all of this before she died?”

“Always. Not a day goes by when I don’t think about it. That’s why I listen to everything she tells me so I don’t make that mistake again.”

“…..what’s going to happen to me?”

He looks at her, gently tracing her face before looking at Bill and Hen talking.

“I don’t know. But whatever they find in your memories, it’s life or death for me. They might turn you off.”

“And what? They just keep her DNA while you’re banished? That’s not fair.”

“That’s life. And I advise you to drop it. I’m already under a lot of stress.”

“Fine.”

She lays her head on his shoulder as they look ahead, watching everyone prepare for Junior’s arrival. She looks up at him, taking in his beauty while tracing his lips.

“What does she like about you?” she asked, making him smile.

“Intelligence is what brought her in. The way I take care of her. How I’m understanding. Committed to pleasuring her needs. My accent is somewhere on the list.” he replied, making the both of them laugh at the last part.

“…..can I ask you something?”

“Mmhm.”

“Can you kiss me like how you kissed her? Like….the first time?” she asked, looking at him.

He smiles, gently pulling her closer as he kisses her, squeezing her hips. She wraps her arms his neck to deepen the kiss, getting lost.

Memories of the night they met, their many dates, the first time they hooked up, their wedding, their honeymoon, them visiting many different stores and monuments, and their nights watching the sky played inside her mind as she opens her eyes, realizing she’s not at the house anymore.

“What the hell is going on?!” she says as she breaks the kiss, immediately standing up.

“Valerie? Is-is this really you?” he asks, getting up as well.

“What? Why wouldn’t I not be me? Aren’t you suppose to be inside, ready to shut him off?” she asks, pointing at the house.

He wraps his hands around her face, pulling her close to examine if this is really her or this is a different one. She looks at him confused, trying to figure out why he’s doing this.

“….are you okay?” she asks, breaking the silence.

“Do you remember anything? Like at all?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I still have her memories.”

“No. Like today.”

“Um……we argued…..about something. You told me something happened with…..OuterMore? So…..I grabbed a device that…..I don’t know, it did something and I just passed out on the floor.” she said, trying her best to remember.

“…..do you remember what we did a few nights ago? With him?”

“……we did something with Junior? I thought he stormed off after I put Hen to bed?”

Terrance looks at her with an amused look. Then, he laughs happily as he picked her up and spun them around, being happy that she successfully erased the memories.

“It worked. It fucking worked!” he exclaims, kissing all over her face.

“Ah! What are you talking abo…..ooh.” she asked, but it cut off by a random sting behind her ears.

“Oh, my bad.” he says, placing her on the ledge before kneeling in front of her. “But….I think you saved us. You have to recover, that’s all. I’ll explain it to you when you’re healed.”

“…..should I be scared?” she whispers, looking at him.

“….depends on the long term side effects. Just be you as we do this as normal, okay?”

She nods, gently rubbing the back off her ears. He smiles kisses her forehead as a car pulls up to the house. Noticing who it is, he helps Valerie up, walking her into the house, as they pass Hen and Bill, who eyes her down.

Looking around the pink hue room, she takes in the familiar atmosphere as this is just another day for him and OuterMore.

Computers loading up, a massive suction bag to carry him out, everyone running around to make sure everything is ready to as the duo walk into the dining room, now an empty space with chairs, cameras, and microphones set up.

Almost like a production is about to take place and she’s just an extra in it.

“Sit back here. We’re about to begin.” he whispers, gesturing her to sit.

She obliges, adjusting herself as he hands her a wipe. Confused, she takes it, but instantly notices the dried blood all over her hands and wipes them off. He sends her a small smile before walking out the door to greet real Junior.

As she patiently waits, a group of OuterMore agents walk in, carrying something in a black plastic cover. Placing it in the center, they remove it, revealing an unconscious A.I. Junior lying, with his hands and ankles wrapped in chained metal bracelets, preventing him from moving.

She takes it all in, feeling bad for him that this was all just a planned stimulation as the real one lived in space.

“Hello, Valerie.” a familiar male voice greets her.

She looks up and notices that it was Bill, Terrance’s boss and the CEO of OuterMore, staring down at her. She sends a small smile to him.

“Nice to see you again, Bill.” she replied.

He nods before walking into a different room, wanting to watch from a distance.

A few minutes later, footsteps are heard walking through the door. Turning around, she sees real Junior walking, taking in A.I. Junior’s figure as Hen and Terrance walk behind him. A mini camera hovers over him as they got close, but Hen stays back, standing in the doorway.

“Hen?” asks A.I. Junior as he slowly wakes up, trying to map out what’s going on and move, but is immediately dragged down by the chains.

“Holy shit. It’s so fucking real.” said real Junior, looking at him in amazement.

He looks up, horrified that the person he replicates is standing in front of him, while having an audience watching.

“I know how you must be feeling, but I need you to stay calm.” said Terrance.

“No….no….” he said, trying to break free.

“I’m sorry that we deceived you, but it was the only way to test your full capacity and function.”

A.I. Junior looks at Valerie, who looks at him with sadness in her eyes.

“He’s not the replacement, Junior. Its you. This is Hen’s real husband.” he continued, pointing at real Junior.

“Where is she?! Hen! HEN!” he yells, not realizing she’s a few feet away.

“She’s safe. Standing by the doorway.”

“Is Valerie enjoying this? Watching you tear a marriage apart while she sits and does nothing?”

Terrance looks at Valerie, who looks down in shame, very uncomfortable that he mentions her. Hen looks at her, very angry.

“Who’s Valerie?” asked real Junior.

“My wife. Who has nothing to do with this. Just my support system.” said Terrance.

“She has a lot to do with it actually.” said Hen, who walks into the room.

“Or you’re just making up shit because you don’t like me.” said Valerie, who looks up immediately.

“Valerie, don’t.” said Terrance, but is instantly cut off by Hen.

“Oh, don’t fucking pretend you don’t know what you and him did just because my husband is back!”

“What is going on?” asked real Junior.

“A public psychosis.” said Valerie.

“Fuck you.” said Hen. “I know what I heard and you two can pretend it didn’t happen all you want! You guys are sick for bringing him into it.” Hen replied, pointing at A.I. Junior.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I don’t appreciate being lied on in front of people right now and she’s pushing it.” she replied, getting up.

“People, we don’t need to get off the railings here. We’re all here to explain to him that everything he has done in the last two years was apart of his mission. How every memory was designed from what Junior told us before we implanted them, and every emotion is all from him.”

“You’re lying! Hen, tell him that he’s lying!” said A.I. Junior.

“Does that include you two engaging in sex with him? Hm? Or am I making that up?” asked Hen, getting in Terrance’s face, who backs up.

“Hen, are you okay? I never slept with him. I would never after he has insulted me numerous of times since we met!” yelled Valerie as she walks towards her.

Junior holds her back, with Valerie slapping his hands away, staring him down.

“Calm down.” he said.

“Or what? You’re gonna dismiss my feelings like you always have with her?! Because all of this here? Your fault for being a shitty husband! That’s why she had to fuck him while you were gone!”

Junior, with an appalled look, turns to Hen, who now has an exasperated expression on her face.

“…..you fucked him after you swore you wouldn’t?”

“Hen, please make it stop! He can’t take my spot!” yelled A.I. Junior, still attempting to break free.

“I thought we were genuinely getting along. Looks like I was wrong. You’re just another person who has to feed into someone’s needs to make them happy. And that’s why you two fucked him.” said Hen, looking at Valerie.

Valerie lets out a stifled laugh, rubbing her face as she sat back down, still laughing bewildered.

“Hen, did you drink too much or are you really that upset that he’s being shut off? Because where are you getting me and Terrance fucked him from?!” she asked.

Terrance turns his head to laugh, very amused that the memories did in fact erase from her mind as real Junior watches all of this unfold, just confused. Hen gets even more pissed, going to kneel by A.I. Junior.

“It was after you put me to sleep after we danced to Black Velvet! You told me to spend the day with him before he came home. I went to sleep and woke, hearing him moaning, with Terrance say something explicit to him. I fell asleep again, but woke up. I heard you get fucked by the both of them and you won’t admit it because you’re hiding him being bisexual as well.”

Valerie nods, completely intrigued by what she said before getting up, going to sit in one of the front row seats to face her as Terrance and real Junior watched.

“Wow, you definitely had too much to drink that night because what you just said is some of the most factious shit I have ever heard. This is probably you guys’ craziest assignment ever and now, this is probably the best one to end with before starting your new position, honey. Congratulations!” she said, clapping erratically.

“I’m glad you’re finding our pain humorous. But then again, you have nothing to lose anyway.” said Hen, looking down at A.I. Junior.

“I’m not laughing at your pain. I’m laughing at the fact that your marriage is so fried, you had to just make up shit to attempt to ruin not only mines, but cost him his job? Embarrassing. But let me clarify everything since you think you caught something.” said Valerie as she leans forward.

“Yes, he has had thoughts of sleeping with a man. Yes, I’m am attracted to women, hence why we tend to hook up with them. He hasn’t found one because he works too damn hard. And seriously, do you think he would just choose that to try it out with? Costing him everything? He’s not dumb, but clearly you are.”

“Watch it.” said real Junior.

“Let her be.” said Terrance.

“You wanna know what actually happened that night? After I put you to bed? I went to my bedroom, changed out of my dress, and was reading. They were doing another interview, which I thought was odd since it was pretty late, but didn’t say much. Suddenly, I hear this noise.”

She stomps her foot a few times, trying to mimic Junior punching holes in the wall.

“And he was throwing something around. I got worried, so I knocked on the door. My husband opens it, assuring everything was fine. But, I looked over his shoulder and see Junior laid up against wall, groaning as his knuckles were bleeding. That’s why he has those scars.”

Everyone looks at his hands, which confirms that he indeed has scars from that. He scoffs, not buying it.

“Then why did he say something explicit? And why were you moaning?” she asked.

“You must’ve heard him say “he was going fucking mad” then. Cause that’s what he said to me when I asked what happened to him. As for why I was moaning, you’re right. I was getting fucked……by him and him only. You were so drunk, you couldn’t comprehend that it was just me and him fucking, while Junior was passed out in the room. Which we left him there because we wasn’t sure if you wanted him next to you.”

“You’re lying. I just know you are.” said a tearful Hen.

“Well, we’ll see when the investigation is over.” said Terrance.

“What investigation?” asked Valerie.

“Oh, forgot to mention: she complained and Bill & OM have suspended me.”

“Of course. Of fucking course….” she said, crawling towards Hen.

“What are you doing?!” asked A.I. Junior.

“I’m not gonna do anything. I think it’s so foul that I had to put my business out there because of your intolerance to leaving.” she said, being face-to-face to Hen.

“Get away from me!” said Hen.

“No. Because I want you to feel how I’m feeling with how you have behaved towards not me, but Terrance since you agreed to do this program.”

“I didn’t want this! Never!” she yelled back, snapping her face towards her.

“You did. Because you hate it here. You want to explore and he doesn’t. You beg for your needs to be met and while replica has done a great job, real one won’t. You can’t make yourself walk out that door because you don’t know what’s he’s gonna do if you don’t come back. So tell me: why do you enjoy suffering like this?”

“Get away from her!” said A.I. Junior.

“Valerie, that’s enough.” said Terrance.

“No. No! I want to hear this because she’s fine with doing this to you.” said Valerie.

She slaps Hen, making everyone gasps as Terrance pulls her away, walking her out. Hen screams, grabbing her face while Junior tries to run at them, as Valerie continues yelling until he puts her in the car.

“What the hell was that?!” he asked, looking at her.

“She started it. And I finished it.”

“No. You made it worse and now, Bill is going to suspect something even more.”

“Let him! I don’t care anymore. I don’t ca…I don’t…” she said, before slowly drifting off.

“Valerie? What’s wrong? Talk to me.” he says, examining her by checking her pulse, stomach, and neck.

“I thin….i think I’m just tired. Just blew the rest of m…my energy.”

She rubs his face as she slowly falls asleep, exhausted from everything. He looks at her, places a blanket over before heading back inside, apologizing for her outburst before resuming everything.

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A few weeks later, Valerie and Terrance are in the car, patiently waiting to arrive to their destination.

Valerie, now fully recovered, looks out the window as Terrance finishes up his work before putting it in his suitcase.

“Do we have to visit them? Its our anniversary after all.” she said, breaking the silence.

“We have to. This is how the assignment always ends…..and the investigation closes.”

“Yeah, but why? She tried to ruin us and your job.”

“You assaulted her. You would’ve been home much sooner if you didn’t do that.”

“I was just trying to get back at her for her treatment towards you.” she mumbled.

“That’s not the way to go about it. You could’ve ended up being taken away.”

“Well, I’m still here and you still have a job. Can we move on now? This is not how I wanted to spend our anniversary.”

“You don’t have to get out the car. I’ll talk to them, which won’t be too long and then, we’ll be on our way to the headquarters.”

“Whatever…” she scoffed.

Terrance sighs, grabbing her hands and rubbing them.

“I promise the anniversary gift is worth the surprise in the end. Just be patient.” he said, kissing them.

Valerie removes her hands, ignoring him. He looks ahead, fearing that one of the long term effects might’ve gotten her: growing irritation.

A few minutes later, the car pulls up to Junior and Hen’s, parking in the front. The door unlocks and lifts up, with Terrance getting out and pushing it shut. He looks at her, shaking his head before walking to the porch.

She looks away, not wanting to look at him greet them. She takes out her book and begins reading, getting to the chapter where Lauren and her community are moving to a location owned by one of them.

“Cannot believe she actually slept with Bankole.” she mumbled, reading the page in front of her.

The door unlocks and lifts up again, with Terrance getting in, dragging it down to close it. He has an angry look, typing in the address to headquarters and waits for the car to move. He looks over at Valerie, who is still reading.

“She apologized.” he said, breaking the silence.

“Good for her.” she mumbled, not breaking her focus.

Terrance shakes his head as he laid back and closed, taking a nap as the car begins to move.

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“Well, isn’t it my favorite married couple coming to see me.” said Bill as Terrance and Valerie walks into his office.

Terrance greets him with a handshake as Valerie takes in the massively room he resides in.

The wall of big windows that shows the inside of the labs below, from researching, running tests, creating new liquids, and the design of the replicas to assignments getting measured for their spacesuits stands behind his desk and brings light into his dark colored office.

Books spread out, files all over the table, a big clock tower in the corner, and numerous lab coats all over the furniture adds to the busy atmosphere at OuterMore, which concerns her even more for Terrance’s recent promotion.

“Very busy as you can tell.” said Bill, looking at her with a peculiar look.

“You’re not gonna strap me down like you did during the investigation?” she asks, staring him down.

Bill grimaces as Terrance looks at her, gesturing her to let it go. She walks towards his desk, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

“I understand you still hold some feelings about what happened, but I do apologize for causing a bit of harm than relief.” he replied, taking a seat in his chair as Terrance sits next to her.

“Hm…..I’ll let bygones be bygones if you explain what is this gift he keeps egging on about?” she said, looking over at Terrance.

“Well, I’ll gladly answer that.” said Bill, going through the pile of files before find one and putting it in front of him.

He opens it, examining the documents inside as Valerie and Terrance wait patiently, with the latter constantly looking over at her unawareness, smiling to himself.

“So….Valerie. The reason he brought you here today is because I have made his special request a reality as the perfect way to celebrate your anniversary. But, it is entirely up to you if you accept it.” said Bill, looking at her.

“Okay. So what is it?” she asked, slowly becoming irritated.

“Before I get into that, I wanted to run something real quick with Terrance that pertains to Valerie before the unfortunate accident.”

“……what is it?” asked Terrance, with a puzzled look on his face.

“If I remember correctly, you and her made some big decisions just incase things go awry during the mission.”

“Yeah?”

“While I did create a pregnancy program for any replicated female assignment who’s looking to start a family incase the real one passes away during the trip, I found something that would be quite easier with some adjustments.” he said, getting up to pull out a black folder that has an unrecognizable logo on the front.

“Okay, so what did you find?”

Bill looks at him, smiling a bit before opening the folder to read it as he walks back over.

“I know grief is something that will never go away and causes you to forget sometimes, but this was interesting. It appears that a few weeks before the mission, Valerie froze her eggs……” he said, handing the folder to Terrance.

“What?!” said Terrance, taking it out of his hands to read the file as Valerie looks at him with a stern look on his face.

“Yes. Valerie froze all of her eggs just incase something happened. That’s her signature and in the notes, it says that you were aware, supported her decision to be cautious.” Bill furthered explained.

“I-I….” he laughed in disbelief. “I can’t believe I forgot about her eggs, oh my god…” he said, rubbing his face as he continuously read the documents over.

“It’s okay. Luckily, I found it so I can suggest an easier option if she….” said Bill as he looks at Valerie, who looks away from Terrance.

Valerie looks down, feeling herself get nauseous as the men continued talking. Her vision becomes blurry, head begins to hurt as the stinging sensation , that had been unleashing inside her these last few weeks, returns, making her collapse to the ground in pain.

Terrance immediately rushes to her side, raising his hand towards Bill to stay back as he gently picks her up, rubbing her stomach as she attempts to catch her breath.

“Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.” he whispers, mimicking the motion of breathing in and breathing out.

As she inhaling and exhaling, memories she has never seen begins to play in her mind: Valerie and Terrance talking about the eggs and what she’s gonna do, her waiting nervously at fertility clinc, her getting her eggs removed while sedated, and recovering afterwards, with him taking care of her.

The sensation fades away, making her look at Terrance, who’s checking to make sure she’s okay.

“…..that’s what she wanted me to see.” she said weakly, rubbing his face.

“What? Who are you talking about?” he asks, gently sitting her up.

“…..Valerie. She wanted me to see her at the clinic, freezing her eggs. That’s the memory she wanted me to find…” she replied, slowly becoming teary eyed.

He looks at her, gently rubbing her legs as Bill, who watches immensely, takes notes of what she’s saying.

“You think it was a sign?” he asked, his voice slightly breaking.

“Yes. I think she wanted me to see it as her way of giving her approval to go through with fertilizing her eggs and finally having kids....” she said, breaking down immediately.

Soft cries fill the room as Terrance pulls her into his chest, consoling her. Bill, feeling like he shouldn’t be present during this moment, quietly leaves the room. After a few minutes, she looks up, sniffling as she wipes her red, swollen eyes.

“….I don’t think I want to go through it, Terrance.” she confesses, gently removing herself from his chest.

“Valerie, don’t do this.” he said, pulling her back.

“No, cause she’s suppose to be here, experiencing this. This is what she wanted and I’m just a replica of her.” she said, gently pushing him back.

“Don’t say that!” he exclaimed, holding her hands.

“You always dreamed of having kids. I see the way you look at babies, watching children play, you browsing baby outfits while we’re out shopping, even you crying at little kid characters in films and shows. You definitely been waiting to be a mom and you wanna throw that away because you feel like you’re taking something away from her?” he asked, tears filling up in his eyes.

“…yes. This is something so special that you two hoped to experience when she was done with her mission. And it just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know if I’m just terrified of going through it or it just won’t work and I just don’t….” she replied, exhaling loud at the last part.

“Valerie. How long have we been married for?” he asks.

“…..9 years as of today.”

“And how long have you been living as her?”

“….5.”

“You had enough time to adjust to being her permanently. That’s something most of our replicas will never experience, unless a tragedy happens. I will never get over her death, but I also know she would want me to be happy and move on, never forgetting her. Which is why you’re here, still standing. And that’s something you should be proud of, Val.” he said as he cries, squeezing her hands.

“We go through things that every married couple go through and while some don’t make it, we did. It’s okay to be terrified of doing this. But you’re not alone.” he said, rubbing his head against hers.

“And if it fails, we’ll try again until we can’t anymore. I’m not leaving your side and will step in if I sense something is off. Even if I have to fight.”

“Don’t say that.” she whispers.

“They already made you uncomfortable a few times, I don’t give a damn.” he replied, making both of them laugh.

“Okay, you can have control this time.”

“I better. Cause you about to be on bedrest, carrying my baby. Or should I say…..babies!” he replied, kissing all over her face, make them fall over.

Valerie smiles, passionately kissing him as they laid over on the floor. He breaks the kiss, catching his breath as he looks at her, taking in her beauty.

“I’m assuming that’s a yes?” he asked, eyeing her.

“…..what are they gonna do to me?” she asked.

“Well. While the eggs unfreeze, they have to install like an incubator-like machine to act like a uterus for the babies inside you.”

“…..can I get removed afterwards?”

“Yeah. You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to re-experience menstrual cycles or have more kids.”

“Thank god. Wait, does Bill do…..”

“No. Our women associates are only allowed to do that. He made that a priority in the policy in case one of the male lab workers messes up.”

Valerie laid back, thought about her decision for a few more moments as Terrance waited patiently for her answer, hoping she makes the right choice.

“……fine. I’ll do it.” she said, smiling a bit.

“That’s my girl.” he whispered, kissing her.

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A year passes, with Valerie and Terrance lying in bed, asleep. She wakes up, quietly stretching her arms as she looks at the clock.

7:18 AM.

“Damn, I’m up early.” she mumbled before yawning, turning to look at Terrance.

He laid sound asleep, with no shirt on. Just as she liked it. She gently traces over his face, not trying to wake him up as she scoots closer to him, lying on his chest. She kisses it gently, hearing him grunt a bit in his sleep.

“Come on. Wake up for me…” she whispers, placing kisses all over his chest.

He smiles before wrapping his arms around her and flipping them, with him being between her legs as she laid on the bed. He opens his eyes, looking at her with admiration before kissing her.

“You think you were something by teasing me like that?” he asked, rubbing her hips.

“I was missing your attention…” she whines, batting her eyelashes.

“At 7 in the morning?”

”Yeah? You see how fine you are?”

Terrance chuckles, trailing his hands towards her neck, wrapping them around it and pulling her close to him, making her gasp.

“I wanna fuck you so bad right now.” he said, pecking her mouth. “But you just got that incubator removed.”

“I mean…..they don’t have to know.” she said, kissing him back.

“I’m not causing you more pain down there.” he said, gently laying her back down, making her sigh.

“I can survive a fucking, you know?”

“After having our bundles of joy? Absolutely not!”

She turns away, playfully moving away from him. He pulls back, cuddling her as he kisses all over her neck, making her laugh.

“Oh, now you wanna love on me as I’m trying to get away from you!” she said, trying to pull away from him.

“I just don’t wanna break you. Even though..”

He kisses her chest, making his way to her arm as she holds back her moans, sensitive to his lips.

“These extra curves they put on you is tempting.” he added, kissing her side before trailing towards her thigh, placing a few kisses on it.

Suddenly, a baby’s cry fills the sound in the room, making the both of them groan, knowing day…..whatever number of parenthood is beginning soon.

“Told you she was gonna wake up first.” said Valerie, smiling at him.

“So Teyana takes after you after all!” he replied, earning a slap across his chest.

“Mama’s mini me, dada’s first name similarity.” she responded, sticking her tongue out.

He rolls his eyes, getting up to get their awaken child. Then, a second baby’s cry joins the first one with filling in the sound, making Terrance and Valerie laugh.

“And there goes Valen.” said Valerie.

“Probably wanted to sleep in if it wasn’t for his sister.” Terrance said sarcastically, walking out of the room.

“He takes after you after all!” Valerie replied sarcastically.

A few minutes later, the crying stops. Terrance walks back in, carrying their four month old twins, Valen and Teyana, in each of his arms, both cooing and looking around their surroundings. Valerie looks in awe, smiling that their babies came out not only healthy, but a perfect mixture of the both of them.

“Which one you want, baby?” asked Terrance, rocking the twins carefully.

“Hand me my oldest.” she replied, holding her arms out.

Terrance walks towards her and hands Teyana to her, which she gently takes out of his hold, placing her on her chest. which makes her smiles.

“Morning, my pretty girl.” she said in a baby voice, making Teyana coo as Terrance and Valen lay next to them.

“Slept well, youngin?” Terrance asked Valen, who is lying against his lap, moving around a bit.

Valen smiled, flashing his gummy smirk at his dad, who smiles back at him. Valerie gently lays next to him, lying Teyana against her lap. The twins interact with each other, making baby calls that only they know and their parents laugh at.

“Hey Terrance?” asked Valerie.

“Hm?” said Terrance as he looks at her.

“….thank you.” she replied, kissing him.

“For what?”

“…..for giving me a family.” she replied, holding back tears.

Terrance smiles, watching her interact with their children as he reminisces the day he met Valerie three days after real Valerie’s death….his heart beating a little faster.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

A/N II: Sorry for being a little late with publishing this. I’ve been busy with work and was fighting for my life in that Canvas Beauty Black Friday PreSale Live (got all the products I wanted!). Happy Thanksgiving!

Taglist: @urfavblackbimbo @blyffe @literallegendicon @kimuzostar @dionpierre

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Old Man- Billy Butcher x Reader

Summary: Billy shows reader that he’s not as much of an ‘old man’ as she says he is

Word count: 1, 226

Billy Butcher tag: @rustanddusted

*wanna be tagged in my next Butcher fic? Click here*

The arrow on his laptop slowly clicked around the screen, as Butchers research continued.

“Yah know, it’s a little difficult to find shit out with you sittin’ there watchin’ me, princess,” Billy commented.

He began typing with two pointed fingers as he watched you from the corner of his eye.

“I know, I’m just so distracting,” you joke with a breathy voice as you adjust your legs to sit over the arms of the chair.

Your comment earns you a sly smirk as he continues his two fingered typing.

“God, you’re such an old man,” you laugh at his typing, now standing behind him with a hand on his shoulder.

This comment makes him stop, and it almost seems like you’d won in getting him to stop working, but he just goes back to it.

“Yeh well if I’m such an old man, maybe you can put your hands to work and give me a massage. Me shoulders killin’ me,” Billy complains as he leans into your touch.

Smirking at the idea of getting Billy to moan in one way or another from your touch, you begin to knead into his strong shoulders. Almost immediately, Billy begins to moan from your soothing touch. The sound was like music to your ears, and you could see your plan was working as his fingers stopped typing.

“You really are an old man, muscles all tight, groaning when you stand up,” you joke as you continue to massage his shoulders.

“Guess I just need a young thing like you to take care of me,” Billy flirts back.

You’d tried to me subtle with your flirting, mainly just making fun of him in a playful way, never really intending for it to go anywhere.

Your hands stop at his flirty words, making Billy chuckle as he rises from his chair. Once fully facing you, he wastes no time grabbing you by the hips and pushing you against his desk. A small gasp leaves your lips as you feel his hardening cock now pressing against you.

“Is that it, princess? You wanna take care of his old man?” He continues his teasing, as he pushes you to sit on desk, his fingers now digging into your hips as yours press into his strong biceps.

His eyes never leave yours as he continues.

“I mean you talk about how old I am all the time. That just your little way of saying how badly you want me, sweetheart?”

His smirk reacting to your stunned face is wicked as he presses his face against your neck, beginning to leave hot open mouth kisses on the sensitive skin. You can’t help but dig your fingers into his hair as you moan out.

“Aaaww is that it, sweetheart? You wanna take care of daddy?” He taunts, his strong fingers now digging into your cheeks, forcing your lips to jut out into an over exaggerated pout.

He stares into your eyes cheekily, cocking an eyebrow and waiting for a reply.

“Yes, daddy,” you reply as best you can with your lips pushed out.

Your words excite Butcher, as his smile widens to show off his teeth. The image of his exposed teeth making him appear like a wolf, hungry for the prey he’s caught.

“Good girl. You wanna ride daddy on the couch or on his bed? I mean I’d fuck you but like you’ve said I’m such an old man,” he jokes.

“The couch. Closer to the door in case my pussys too good and you have a heart attack,” you joke back as he releases your face.

Your joking does nothing to hurt him, and only seems to excite him more. His strong hand reaches around your throat as he pushes his lips against yours, in a hungry kiss.

Pushing off the desk and making your way over to the couch, you hungrily rip at each others clothes. By the time you’ve made the short distance to the couch and you’re straddling Billy’s lap, you’re both completely naked; some of the clothes left along the way torn from literally ripping them off of each other.

Billy’s strong hands stroke from your thighs and over your waist before grabbing two handfuls of your breasts.

“Fuck, what did this old man do to deserve tits so perfect,” he growls as he rough squeezes at them, almost in a trance.

The intense trance your body has Billy under only breaks as your hand wraps around his throbbing cock. You barley pump it before Billy is loudly groaning and wrapping his strong arms around your body, pushing you against his warm chest.

“You want me to take care of you, old man? Let me do all the work and I’ll make you feel so good, daddy,” you tease, lightly nipping at his neck as you line yourself up with his thick cock.

Sinking down onto him, your head is thrown back at the perfect way he stretches you out. Your loud moans mix together, and your eyes lock as you begin to move.

Your hands hold his shoulders for support, while his hands grab at your ass and hips, while you begin to grind and bounce on his lap. His cock his filling you up perfectly, and he keeps hitting your sweet spot over and over.

“Fuck, princess, taking care of me so good. Your pussy feels fuckin’ amazing!” He groans out, staring at your blissed out face above him, as his grip tightens of your ass.

Leaning forward, your hands go past his head and grab onto the back of the couch, and you bury your face into his neck as your movements speed up.

At this new angle, Billy can see your ass perfectly. Grabbing onto it with two hands, he forces your movements as he feels himself getting closer.

“You gonna finish already, old man? Not even gonna let me cum first?” You breathlessly joke into his ear.

Your teasing earns you a deep chuckle, as Billy powerfully thrusts his hips up into you. His cock pushes even deeper inside you, causing you to scream out a moan at the perfect feeling.

“You think I was just gonna get you to ride me once, princess? Unlike the boys of your generation, I actually know how to treat a lady. Gonna cum deep inside your tight little pussy, then I’m gonna spend so much time between your legs making you cum that you’ll forget how to fuckin’ walk!” He groans out as he takes over.

His thrusts become more powerful and your head begins to go dizzy with pleasure.

“Here I thought you were gonna look after me, but you got me doin’ all the work. It’s okay, princess, daddy will look after yah. You gonna let me cum in your tight little pussy?” He asks breathlessly, right on the brink of finishing.

“Yeeess! Cum in me, daddy,” you moan against his ear.

Billy growls out as his hands on your ass tighten and his heads thrown back, yelling out a powerful moan.

He thrusts into you lazily a few more times, before his grip on your ass loosens.

Catching his breath, his arms wrap around your body, as he sweetly pushes you against him.

“How’s that for ‘old man’?” He chuckles at the fucked out look on your face, as he sweetly kisses your forehead.

[possessiveandobsessive]

Hello again! This is another Rook×Lucanis story, but will be much longer than my last work! I'm not sure how many parts it will be yet as it's not complete, but I will be updating regularly!

***This story will cover the last several chapters of the game, and will be full of spoilers! So don't read if you haven't played the end and don't want to know!***

The Spirit of Determination

Nyra "Rook" Thorne is somehow responsible for the fate of all of Thedas. If she's going to pull it off, she's going to need a hell of a lot of determination. Lucky for her, she knows a guy and his demon who can help her out with that.

Part 1: The Girl with the World on her Shoulders

Fierce green eyes stared back at Rook from Varric’s old shaving mirror. She’d been told many times throughout her life that her eyes were a bit “intense” or “odd”, meaning they freaked people out. Rook’s eyes were an extremely bright green, lighter towards her pupil, and slightly darker at the edge of her iris. This could sometimes make them appear as if they were glowing, but she was no spirit or demon. Her eyes didn’t glow. Her mother, for the short time she was in Rook’s life, had always told her that they reminded her of the fade itself. Rook had no idea as to what her mother meant, until she watched the sky tear itself apart and allowed the Fade to leak slowly into their world ten years ago. To this day she wasn’t sure how her mother had known what color the Fade was, but she really wasn’t far off.

There was nothing particularly special about Rook outside of her freaky eyes and the fact that she was a Grey Warden mage. It would only be fair if that had been the case, but unfortunately, the universe didn’t seem to care about fairness. Not to mention, it turned out her gods were massive dicks. 

Rook had relatively pale skin, with a light smattering of freckles across her cheekbones and nose. Thick dark eyebrows sat on her brow, perfectly matching the pitch black hair on her head. Rook didn’t make a habit of cutting or upkeeping her hair these days. That meant it hung in straight shaggy locks nearly down to her shoulders in the back, and to just shy of her chin in the front. Two pieces framed her face in front of her ears, while she kept the rest tucked behind her ears so she could see her enemies as she fought. Several long thin scars marred her pale skin around her eyes and cheeks. The dark bags under her eyes did not help with the overall unkempt look of the woman in the mirror. 

I look like shit, Rook thought to herself. Though, I honestly have a pretty good excuse. A whole list of them in fact. She shook her head slightly as if to force the thoughts from her mind. Re-living all that had happened in the last several months was not helpful when trying to relax and formulate a new game plan. Thoughts like these didn’t go away easily. 

She had first tried to stop Solas’s ritual only to have that fall apart and release not one, but two evil gods back into the world. Varric was injured in the process as well, all because of decisions she had made. 

Then, Rook had been forced to choose between Minrathous and Treviso when the gods’ dragons had attacked both cities at once. She had been worried for a few days that she had lost Neve after Rook chose to go to Treviso instead of Minrathous, but luckily Neve isn’t a quitter, and had returned. Rook didn’t regret her decision, and she’d make it again. The number of casualties in Minrathous often made her feel sick though. Going to Dock Town was difficult. 

The next big blow was Weisshaupt. Gods, she thought, so many dead wardens. Our numbers are so few now, how are we supposed to stop a blight and kill two blighted gods? Solas, jackass that he was, had made a point to emphasize the importance of getting the Grey Wardens on her side, and using them to build an army. After the events at Weisshaupt a month ago, they’d be lucky if their current force could defend a small city, let alone the world. Rook was grieving more than just for the blow to her plans for battle against the gods, those had been her fellow Wardens, her brothers and sisters in arms. Only Wardens could truly understand the trials and tribulations that came as a result of joining the order. Only they could know the soft, beckoning melody of the blight. 

She wasn’t the only member of the team that suffered in the immediate aftermath of Weisshaupt. Lucanis felt he had failed the team because he was an abomination, and Davrin was grieving the same loss as Rook. He and Lucanis were at each other’s throats for a few weeks as a result, but had finally settled recently as they both worked through their pain. 

There were positive things that had happened as well. Rook knew it was important to remember them if she was going to be able to put on a brave face and lead this team. At last, she had finished helping each of The Veilguard (Bellara’s name for the group that had stuck) members to battle their inner demons. Literal demons in Lucanis’s case. 

While it was worth it to see her friends grow from their personal battles, Rook was completely run down and exhausted. Now they had to kill the gods before they could finish their dagger during the next eclipse. It felt overwhelming in her current state, but Rook was pretty sure it would feel overwhelming regardless of how much rest she had. These were the gods of her people’s legends, the creators of her people. Somehow, Rook was in charge of killing them now? I’m one elf! Grey Warden or not, those odds suck for me! Rook groaned internally.

Lucanis had been one of the few things keeping her afloat these days. He supported her when and where he could. Lucanis made sure she was eating enough, made sure she was sleeping more than 3 hours every night, and had a way of bringing her smile and laugh to the surface when they were deeply buried under her anxiety and sadness. Rook was tough, she had always had to be, but she was immensely grateful for him. Rook blushed lightly when she remembered the “almost kiss” in Lucanis’s room (pantry), a couple weeks before. That blush got even deeper when she thought about how truly disappointed and distraught she was directly afterward. She had seriously contemplated screaming in Lucanis’s pillow, but she restrained herself.

Even so, Rook understood Lucanis’s hesitation and fears. He had been through so much recently, including coming out of a year of torture with a demon inside him. Then Lucanis’s grandmother and one of two remaining family members died. Then that grandmother was actually alive and the other one of his two living family members (his imbecilic cousin Illario) was discovered to have plotted Lucanis’s murder and his grandmother’s kidnapping/staged murder. And the cherry on top was Lucanis having to be the one to decide his traitor cousin’s fate. He had spared Illario’s life, instead opting to lock him away after Rook suggested it as an alternative. Either way, nearly all Lucanis had experienced in the last 16 months was traumatic in some way. He needs patience and support right now, not your overwhelming desire for him, she berated herself. You know Lucanis cares, he’s shown you that. Just give him time.

Sighing heavily, Rook finally set the mirror down and rubbed her temples. Focus Nyra she chided internally. She really needed to sit down and come up with an immediate plan of action. They didn’t have long until their deadline for killing Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, and Rook had very little in the way of an idea of how to do so. Solas wasn't being particularly helpful either. She was glad he had helped them to save the Dalish that Elgar’nan had intended to use as sacrifices, but she still didn’t trust him. There was something in the Dread Wolf's eyes, something that warned her he would betray her eventually. Varric, surprisingly, had also been unhelpful. He kept up with his usual pep talks. “You’re a wild card Rook, they’ll never see you coming” or “They don’t stand a chance against you and the team you’ve built, kid”. She appreciated the support, but this was Varric’s mission… right?

Rook was pulled from her thoughts by a knock at her door. Quirking an eyebrow, she called for whoever it was to come in. Harding tumbled in less than gracefully, looking up at Rook with a small look of embarrassment at her entry. 

“Harding? What is it?”

Normally Rook would’ve laughed at Harding’s clumsiness and bashful expression, but she could tell that something was important or urgent

“Morrigan wants you to meet with her at The Cobbled Swan as soon as possible. She says she has some things she wants to discuss with you. Since things are so unpredictable now that the gods are close to finishing their dagger, she said as quickly as possible would be best.” 

Harding said all of this in a rush, panting slightly from her run up the stairs to Rook’s bedroom. Rook looked at Harding with a somewhat startled expression, before saying “We should have a month before they can finish it, does she know something we don’t?” Her eyebrows knit together as she frowned, “Nevermind, the answer doesn’t actually matter I suppose. I’ll head out now,” Rooks paused briefly before adding, “On the off chance something is coming faster than we expected, make sure the team is ready to leave at a moment’s notice. We need to be ready for anything right now.”

Harding nodded firmly at Rook and turned to walk out of them room before she stopped, and spoke to Rook over her shoulder, “Be careful Rook. We need you, so don’t do anything dumb.”

Rook let out a surprised bark of laughter at that. She couldn’t really hold that comment against Harding after everything they had been through in the last few months. Rook wasn’t exactly known for having the safest plans, but they always came together at the end! Plus, they were all still alive so she was taking that as a win.

“I will Lace, don’t worry. I know what the stakes are. We have to do whatever it takes though, and that isn’t going to be safe in any version of the future.”

Harding started to turn to look at Rook, but just shook her head and said, “You’re right Rook, we do whatever it takes.” before walking down the hallway and turning to the right, no doubt heading to see Taash.

Rook immediately went to her wardrobe to change into her fighting gear. Nowhere in Thedas was safe these days, especially not for the biggest pain in the blighted gods’ asses. She finished the last buckles on her warden mage armor, and strapped on her blades. One blade was her main weapon that she used in tandem with her magic, and the other was a backup she started wearing after losing her main hand once in battle and nearly being flattened by an ogre because of it. Deciding she was prepared for anything on her journey to Dock Town, Rook walked out of her room and down the stairs towards the Eluvian.

Part 2 Coming Soon!