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[toxicanonymity]

night walks (original)

2k | pothead neighbor!Joel x f!reader

joel miller masterlist | night walks masterlist

He shrugs and leans in.  You don't lean away.  He takes your chin in his hand and your mouth opens for him, emptying your lungs before you can tell your body no.  He gets less than an inch from your lips and exhales into your mouth as you inhale deeply, accepting his breath. 

Summary: Joel, an older neighbor you've been walking with late at night, asks you into his basement to sell him weed but has other intentions.

content warnings: I8+ nsfw, drugs, dubcon, unsafe PIV sex, dirty talk, light imprisonment, creepy pothead joel, age gap (unspecified), possible dosing, no outbreak, Joel is untrustworthy.

(a/n): felt like writing some sex and taking a new Joel for a spin.

You're living in your Aunt's basement in a conservative suburban neighborhood while you work a dead-end job.  You keep to yourself and don't know anyone in the neighborhood. You take a walk late at night.  Not uncommon for you.  Normally, no one is out, so you light up a joint as you round the corner into a dark cul-de-sac. 

"That smells good," a gruff, disembodied voice says.

You startle and look around.  "It's cool, I'm cool " he says, and your eyes land on him in the shadows.  It's Joel Miller sitting out on the porch in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. "Sorry I scared you.  I'm no snitch," he adds.  "Have a good night." 

He comes out almost every night from then on and starts to make small talk.  One night he comes down from the porch in PJ pants and a tight t-shirt, stretched by his biceps, and asks if he can walk a lap with you.  You're like, whatever.  This is when you start to notice how hot he is, having barely seen him in the shadows. The PJ pants are a little too flattering on his ass and you can also see the ample size of his package. His beard glistens with bits of gray and silver.

In the darkest corner of the neighborhood one night, he says "hey" and his hand brushes the back of your hip. You turn and look into his eyes and his face darkens. He wets his lips and your heart races. He asks, "Mind if I hit that?"

You pass it to him and there's a spark when your fingers touch.  The intimacy of his mouth on your joint makes you blush.  His brow furrows as he takes a drag and maintains eye contact.  Something in his gaze gives you butterflies between the legs.

He shares bits and pieces about himself. Sounds like he's having some kind of a midlife crisis. His wife cheated. He's moved into the basement and made a man cave.   He starts crossing your mind during the day.  What's his deal, why is he talking to you? Are you friends now?  You're not sure if he's lonely or a creep.

One night, he sheepishly approaches you about buying some weed.  He wants you to bring it to his man cave so you can show him the stuff and remind him how to roll a joint and all. 

-

He lets you in the side door. When he holds the door open, you get a whiff of his sweat.  He's listening to Pink Floyd.  His tight shirt is blotched in perspiration and his muscles are pumped up.  

He asks, "Mind if I finish this set?"  

"Sure." 

It's burning up inside and you're in joggers and a hoodie. You sit down on the couch and try not to watch. You look around the room at his TV, the bar.  Your eyes drift to the bench where he's on his back, his shirt riding up exposing his happy trail, his package pressing up into his joggers.  

"Don't be shy. You can watch," he says without looking over. 

He's definitely a creep.  He counts down from 5 then racks the bar and sits up.  He looks you up and down.  You put your thin metal case on a tray that's sitting on the ottoman in front of you.  

He goes and locks the door where you came in - the bolt and the slider.

"Drink?" He asks, and walks behind the bar.  "Gotta tell me what you want or you get an IPA." 

"I'm good."

He brings you an IPA.  

He uses his shirt to wipe his brow.  He sits down right next to you, with plenty of other space on the couch,  and stretches his arm out behind you.  He catches you glancing toward the locked door. 

"Too late now, pumpkin." He adjusts himself.  "Come on, loosen up." He hands you the beer and you take a sip.  

"Good girl."  He looks you up and down again. 

-

You put the beer down on the tray and lean forward, elbows  on your knees.  "Alright, so. . ." 

His massive hand rubs your back slowly and it feels a little too good for comfort.  You try to ignore it.  

You open the weed case and get out the baggie and rolling papers. "You're gonna take-"

"Yeah, I know how to do it,”  he smirks. He tucks some cash in your case – a little too much – and closes it.  

Then he pulls out his own case from under the couch.  He puts the weed you gave him in there and pulls out his own stash.  You open your mouth but aren't sure what to say. 

"You gotta hit this. Really, try it," he says.   

You watch him roll the most perfect joint in the world.  

You call him out.  "Why'd you act like such a noob?" 

"How else was I gonna get you in here, hm?”  

Your cheeks burn. 

“Now we're all set to do what we want." A self-satisfied smile creeps across his face. "I won't tell, you won't tell. . . "  He winks at you and his eyes sparkle.

You tense. "I won't tell what?"

He brazenly eye-fucks you.  "What are you gonna say, you came over to sell me weed? C’mon.” 

He strokes your hair.  You're a little sick to your stomach.  You get another whiff of his sweat and curse your body for responding favorably.  

"Where's your wife?"

"Hell if I know," he shrugs.  His hungry eyes don't leave you alone.  

"Damn, you're hot," he blurts out.  It's exactly what you were trying not to think about him, but shit, he is.  

-

He puts the joint in his mouth and lights up, then his arm returns behind you.  His thumb  strokes the nape of your neck and you don't move away.  Not to be intimidated, you turn slightly toward him.  He inhales, holds in the breath, then offers you the joint.  

You hold up your hand and refuse the joint.

He shrugs and leans in.  You don't lean away.  He takes your chin in his hand and your mouth opens for him, emptying your lungs,  before you can tell your body no.  He gets less than an inch from your lips and exhales into your mouth as you inhale deeply, accepting his breath. 

"Atta girl," he says, followed by a small cough into his fist.  

You exhale the smoke slowly, then take a deep breath of clean air and exhale again.  

His large, veiny hand rubs your thigh and you sit in silence for a moment.

He says, "Good shit, right?" 

It's amazing.  "Did you just dose me?" 

He laughs. "Shotgunnin's a hell of a way to dose someone. Nah it's just about findin' the right strain, pumpkin" 

Whatever it is - the weed, the beer, his sweat, his body, the glimmer in his eyes. . . Whatever it is has you hot all over and tingling between the legs. You fidget with the zipper of your hoodie.

He puts his hand over yours and tugs the zipper, his hand dangerously close to your tits. "Let's take that off," he says. You take it off, leaving a tank top and no bra, and fold it up at the arm of the couch.  Part of you is unsure why you're settling in.  The lower part of you knows exactly why.  

His thick knuckles stroke the tattoo on your shoulder

His voice is a low rumble, through nearly-gritted teeth when he says, "found myself a bad girl."

He takes another puff, then sets the joint on an ashtray.   He holds in the breath, takes your cheeks in his hands, his sad eyes searching your face hornily. You empty your lungs again.  He seals his mouth with yours, sending a rush of blood to your loins. You accept the breath, sucking it out of his mouth, then close your mouth and turn away to exhale as your nipples harden.  His face stays and hovers close to yours. 

-

When you finish exhaling, you turn back and meet his gaze.  His eyelids are heavy with lust. He looks at your lips, cradles the back of your head, and smashes his mouth into yours.  His mustache tickles. His tongue invades your mouth and makes you throb. You back up a little and his body pushes yours down on your back, your head landing softly on your hoodie.  His legs wedge between yours.  

His clothed arousal presses right between your legs and his large hand maps your body as he buries his face in your neck.  "Lets see how bad you can be," he growls into your ear before taking a gentle bite of your neck, then sucking hard.  His hard-on swells even larger and harder against you and your hips automatically roll into him.  Your legs wrap loosely around him all on their own.  God, he's big.

You don’t know what’s come over you, but you’re dripping wet.  It’s like a magnetic, masculine energy is radiating out of his pores, penetrating you.  Locked in a basement with this total creep and you’re dizzy with desire.  

He slides his arm under your neck and kisses you forcefully as he gropes your breasts and grinds into you. Then he shoves his hand down into your pants where you aren't wearing underwear.  His thick fingers part your folds and glide against your slick.  You hate yourself for it, but you've never been more turned on, and it shows. 

When he feels how wet you are, he says “I’ll be damned.  You want it that bad.” 

He tugs down your joggers urgently, backing up on his knees to pull them and your shoes all the way off.  Then he frees his cock and strokes himself, wetting his lips. Chest rising and falling as he eyes your naked cunt.  Fuck, he has a nice cock.

He hovers over you again and one of your legs wraps loosely around him.  Your back arches in anticipation.  Your clit throbs.  He breathes heavily and his cock prods your entrance.  You moan softly.  He teases you with the tip.  Your body aches to be filled.  

“All yours, baby, every inch.”  His low voice obliterates anything that was left of your will to resist. 

He pushes his swollen tip inside, and the stretch pushes a moan out of you.

“Yeah, go on.  Take this cock.” He pushes further.  

He grunts, "God, you're tight. C'mon now, you can do it.”  Your hips tilt to receive more of him and he plunges the rest of his length into you with a loud grunt and shudder.  His neck vein bulges and his eyes close. You gasp as he fills you up and you twitch around him.  

“Yeah,” he pants, rocking into your clit while he's all the way inside. “Attagirl.”  You already feel something building deep within you.

He retreats then plunges into you again with a grunt.  The vein on his neck bulges more and his biceps flex as he hovers over you, fucking you slowly, then faster.  “Yeah, that’s my bad girl.”  Fuck, he feels good.  Tension coils rapidly in your core.  

He wraps a strong arm around you, lifts you up against him, and his cock stays inside you as he sits back on the couch so you’re in his lap straddling him.  He expertly works your clit and his massive hands on your asscheeks move you on his cock as his hips move under you.  

“God damn, you’re hot,” he says again as you roll your hips into him.  “Yeah, ride this cock,” he says, thrusting up into you as his massive hands rove your body.  He forcefully pulls down your tank top and sucks your tit, moaning into it.  Your thighs tremble.  

“Yeah, c’mon,” he says. “Come on this cock.”  

The next time he bottoms out, your clit grinding into his pubic bone, softened by his hair — you do.  Pleasure blooms from your clit, pulsing, washing over you, and your walls clench around him, wringing a guttural groan from his lungs. 

His cock pulses enormously and your whole body jerks into him as your climax continues.  He thrusts a few more times. Slow but emphatic, pulling you down on his cock as his balls empty inside you.  You stay on top of him as your climax wanes.  

-

Shit, that was dumb, you realize.  But it felt really fucking good.  

“Reckon I won’t need to lock ya in next time, huh?” he asks, stroking your hair.  You swerve his hand, get dressed, and leave. 

But the next night, you still find yourself walking by his house.  

“Any time you wanna come,” he says.  “You’re welcome."

Short Deleted Scene

-

Thank you for reading!!! your interaction is always appreciated too! 💐 this is a one shot but I'm having thots so you never know, LMK if you like him. I can kinda see him as a breeder, maybe.

Continuation by popular demand: night walks 2

[sorrowsofsilence]

Cymbal-ism • Folio

Pairing: Nick Folio x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: smut 18+ (unprotected pnv, pls wrap it b4 u tap it; male!recieving, slight degrading, rough!folio) enemies to lovers, arguing/bickering

Prompt: You're the new bad omens drum tech, and Nick Folio sure does get on your nerves. Is he a pain in the ass? Or is it the fact you two have some un-discussed sexual tension? Sent via anon

Author note: its hella late, ive had three margaritas, and this is not proofread lol

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

“You’re fucking insufferable,” you muttered under your breath as you brushed passed the short-haired brunette, shoulders knocking against him.

He scoffed, his golden brows narrowing as he hollered after you down the hallway, “Huh? What did you say?”

You glanced his way, flashing him the middle finger with a sarcastic smile while you opened the studio door, before slamming it loudly behind you in frustration.

Nick fucking Folio.

You two got off on the wrong foot the first day you met him two weeks ago. You had bought coffee for the team as a kind gesture, hoping to make a great first impression since you would be with them around Europe for two months.

However, shit hit the fan when you and Folio collided in the hallway as you got off the elevator, spilling the drinks all over him, and immediately giving him a childish vendetta.

To him, if his new drum tech was that clumsy, this tour would be the longest two months of his life. But to you, he was the one who entered the elevator looking down at his phone, not paying attention.

And even though you two barely knew each other, he already made your blood boil.

Perhaps it was the fact he was always trying to nit-pick every little thing you did or the way his attitude was always witty, having a sarcastic retort for everything you said.

It’s also possible it was the way Jolly, your childhood best friend and how you landed the job in the first place, was constantly teasing you about the sexual tension budding between you and Folio.

Or deep down, you thought that maybe it was the way Nick’s annoyingly perfect hair slicked back so effortlessly, or how flawless his ochre eyes were when he glared at you, the deep abyss titillating every time his brows furrowed in your direction.

Everything about him, and to do with him, pissed you off.

But it made you even more mad that you found him extremely attractive, his presence making your heart pound with anger and infatuation.

Nick stormed into the room, kicking the door closed with his foot, “If you’re going to insult me just do it to my face, you coward.”

“Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings,” you said, kneeling next to the drum kit, loosening bolts on the boom stand.

Folio hovered over you, analyzing your movements as you adjusted the cymbals, taking them down one by one to place them in their cases. There was less than an hour until sound check, and none of the drum gear was moved from the studio room to the stage- thanks to somebody.

Groaning, you stopped to look up at him in annoyance, “I’m glad you think I’m pretty Folio, but maybe you can take your eyes off me and help? Instead of ogling?”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he started sliding the copper off of the loosened bars, “I’m just making sure you’re not fucking up my set.”

“Sure buddy,” you said, standing up and starting to unscrew the kick drum.

The two of you worked in tense silence, the air thick as miffed glances were shared taking apart the kit.

You tried not to watch the way his arms would flex as he twisted the rack tom, tattoos glistening slightly as the room heated.

You averted your eyes for a final time when they met his once again, stacking the cases onto the trolly to wheel it out to the stage.

Folio pushed passed you to grab the handles, ready to cart it down the hall even though it was your job.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” You asked as you trailed way too closely behind him, just to push his buttons. The smell of his faint cologne and slight musk of weed on his tanktop left your heart picking up pace.

“Of course I do,” He mumbled, about to walk past the stage entrance.

“To the left- the left-” you shook your head, staring at him with disdain, as he completely ignored you and continued walking, “Oh my god- Folio! it was left!”

You heard a chuckle behind you as Jolly and Ruffilo walked down the hall, stopping at the backstage door as they watched you humorously.

Rolling your head back you gave them an exasperated look, sighing audibly.

“You two ok?” Jolly smiled, folding his arms.

Shaking your head in frustration you bitterly laughed, “He is the biggest pain in my ass. I’m seriously debating quitting the industry as a whole.”

Ruffilo snickered, glancing at Jolly and then Folio, “He only does that because he thinks you’re cute.”

“Excuse me-” Nick interjected, shaking his head in disagreement, “I’d rather kiss a wall for five hours. At least it would be quiet.”

Shooting them a pointed look you walked passed the boys as they chuckled, letting Folio follow you onto the stage.

It only took about ten minutes to set the kit back up before you sat on the stool, practicing a few solos to test the position.

Nick watched in irritation from the side, but what you didn’t know was under all that show, was an immense amount of admiration. The brunette loved watching you play. He was always impressed with your coordination and keen ear, the ability for you to instantly stop playing and slightly adjust a drum before falling right back into a quick rhythm, breathtaking.

He’d never want to admit how good you are; but he would always be biting back a smile as he watched you test out his kit for him, making sure it was set and tuned to perfection.

You sighed once you finished your adjustments, before tossing Nick the sticks.

“All yours pretty boy.”

“Don’t call me that,” He huffed, before looking at the kit, “Also, your dumb ass forgot the hi-hat.”

Not believing him at first you glanced at the drums before swiftly swearing to yourself.

He was right.

Getting up you pushed past Nick, but he followed you back down to the studio, an annoyed murmuring coming from your mouth. As you entered through the door Folio closed it behind you, locking it.

“Nick seriously what-” You began, but were cut off by the brunette.

“God, do you ever shut that annoying fucking mouth of yours?” He said, standing close to you as he leaned forward, eyes narrowed.

“If it’s so annoying to you, make me,” You scoffed, tilting your head to the side.

The proximity of Nick subconsciously began to make your face warm as you backed up from him, but he was right on your trail.

You hit the soft padded wall of the studio, Folio’s body millimetres from pinning yours against the surface.

The tension grew as you both stared at each other with hatred.

“Fuck, you.” Nick spat, false venom dripping off his words.

Without hesitating you sneered, “You wouldn’t, pussy.”

It took all of two seconds before his auburn eyes flicked to your lips, a greedy hand reaching up and gripping your jaw as his mouth attached to yours.

It didn’t take long before you melted into Nick’s touch, angry at how good his tongue felt swiping against yours, the grip on your face tightening as his other hand reached to grip a fist full of your hair at the back of your head.

Fury, hatred, and lust fueled the fire between you two as your fingers gripped his belt loops, tugging his hips toward you as you began rutting against him.

You wanted nothing more than to claw down his skin, begging to dig your nails across the ivory and ink, embedding your mark. You wanted him to wince in a mix of pain and pleasure as your imprint but decided that grazing your teeth along his lips would have to do.

Nick moaned into you, quite literally ready to tear your shirt off, tempted to rip the cloth from its seam and destroy the fabric; but he withheld himself, aware that the two of you were hallways away from the exit to the tour bus.

The two of you pulled away panting, catching your breath.

“What the hell are we-”

Nick stared into your eyes, attempting to shift his desire into a glare as he leaned down to bite against your neck, nipping and kissing down the skin, “Just shut up, for five minutes. Please.”

A small whimper escaped you as his tongue grazed your collarbone, Folio’s fingers fiddling with the button on your jeans. You shimmed the fabric down your legs, kicking it off as you tugged at his tanktop, pulling it over his head.

His fingers gripped your hips, pulling them toward his own as he rubbed against your underwear, the bulge and stiffened desire evidence of how badly he wanted this. Reaching for the bottom of your shirt you tore it off your torso, exposing your chest.

Folio pushed your hips into the wall as his fingers danced along the hem of the thong you wore, threatening to dip lower to where you wanted him most.

“Please,” You whispered, desperation falling from your tone.

Folio shook his head, almost throwing his head back in humour, “We need to do something about your mouth.”

He pushed your shoulders, beckoning you to the ground before pulling his belt from the clasp. Freeing himself from his jeans, you watched hungrily as he gripped the back of your head, lining up his hardened desire to your lips.

“Open. Now.”

You obeyed, too turned on to fight back his commands. Wrapping around him you began to suck along the skin, closing your eyes as you relished in the feeling of how hard he was, all for this.

You reached up to stroke the base but he gripped your wrist, holding you in place as his hips thrust forward. He took complete control of how fast and how deep he went, using you to his desire.

“Your whore mouth exists for me to fuck,” Nick swore, his other hand holding the base of your neck as if feeling for himself through your skin, “All that backtalk can be shoved right down your pretty throat.”

Moaning at his words you closed your eyes, gagging on Nick’s thrusts as you took your free hand between your thighs, allowing yourself to slide past your panties to trace small circles against the skin.

Your arousal coated your fingers as your hips rutted against your hand, Nick’s fingers leaving your wrist to grip the back of your head. He pushed you down further on him, your eyes watering as he forced you to gag along his cock.

Air dissipated from your lungs, your body shuddering from the lack of oxygen momentarily before Nick pulled you away, causing you to cough.

“Fuck,” he groaned, almost chuckling.

You licked and sucked against him for a moment longer, before he pulled you up, gripping your hips. He kissed you desperately again for a few more minutes as his cock pressed against your thigh, before you pulled away, a hand against his chest.

“Are you going to just kiss me, or fuck me like you said you would?” You pushed, your hand gripping his erection, fingers dancing across his skin.

Nick moaned into your lips again before taking his hand between your thighs, slipping his fingers between your folds as he prepared your body for his, “Don’t make it a challenge, or you won’t be able to walk after.”

The brunette lifted your leg, gripping underneath your thigh as he hoisted it up to his hip, positioning himself against your arousal. It was a matter of seconds before he slid between you, your body taking him eagerly as your head fell back, mouth agape at the sensation.

He filled you fully, satiating the hunger you always had for the drummer as he began to thrust into your core, pounding senselessly. The angle gave him access to where you wanted him most, soft cries heaving from your chest as your brows furrowed.

Frustration dissipated into pleasure as Nick gave you everything, fucking you with complete adoration and need. Your nails gripped his shoulders, digging into the skin with haste as you rested your forehead against his neck.

“I hate how gorgeous I think you are,” Nick mumbled into your ear, soft groans escaping him.

Your laugh turned into a moan as his fingers trailed to stimulate you while he thrust, your body convulsing from the bliss, “I hate your perfect laugh, and how you have a lopsided smile.”

“I hate how talented you are.”

“I hate the way your eyes light up when you’re happy.”

“I hate how you walk with a skip when you’re excited.”

Your eyes lidded as Nick gripped the back of your head, forcing you to watch him as he spit on himself, lubricating your combined story as you pushed into him to meet his hips.

His thrusts began to waver as you clenched around him, the stimulation from his cock and fingers causing your legs to shake. Nick was close himself, trying to push you to the edge first before allowing himself release.

“I h-hate how-” You tried to get out your words as complete bliss took over, but Folio’s lips attached to yours once again, his pace never ceasing through your orgasm. Your walls engulfed him as Nick succumbed to you, his breathing staggered and haste as his chest vibrated in contentment.

His hips jerked into you as he allowed himself relief, taking over your body.

You watched him for a moment before his eyes met yours, lips agape in a pant.

The brunette shook his head as his fingers squeezed the skin along your torso, “We have two minutes till sound check.”

“Of course, you’re making us late,” you frowned.

“Oh shut the fuck up.”

Tags: @sammyjoeee @spicywhenspeaking @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @foliosgirl @thatchickwiththecamera @blackveilomens @xserenax-13

[seventeenytiny]

MTL - Most into Quickies (Skz)

Smut - Minors DNI

Contains: Smut, public sex, oral sex (female receiving), oral sex (male receiving), bondage Word Count: 1309 Author's Note: just a fun little shower thought I had :)

Most

Felix

I just know Felix has a super high sex drive, like he will get rock hard just from seeing you bend over to grab something off the floor. I can imagine him pinning you up against the counter in the kitchen because your ass just looks too damn good in those leggings. He'll start grinding up against you signaling what he wants, the feeling of his bulge sends bolts of pleasure straight to your core. Before you know it, he's pulling your leggings down to get access to your pussy. He will waste no time sliding in, fucking you hard and fast. He's quite careless, not even concerned about the idea that a member could walk into the kitchen at any time. All Felix can think about is not cumming too soon because of how good your pussy feels. He'd be a whimpering and blubbering mess.

Han

I think most of us will agree that Jisung is a horny boy, always clinging to his partner and grinding into their ass whenever he gets the chance. I can picture going clothes shopping with him and as you look through the racks he'll wrap his arms around your waist and slowly grind on you as he kisses your neck. "You would look good in that," he'd whisper in your ear. "Why don't you go try it on?" Next thing you know he's dragging you to the changing room. He'll have his pants unbuttoned before he even gets in the room, quickly stripping you of your clothes and bending you over as soon as the door locks. He'll shove your panties in your mouth just to help muffle your moans.

Jeongin

Another one that will enjoy a good quicky, this man just loves pussy and he will take it any way he can get it. Imagine the two of you are on a plane on the way to the vacation Jeongin decided to treat you to. One of the best parts? The absolutely luxurious first-class seats you had. After several hours of flying and several glasses of champagne, Jeongin just got a little too needy. It started with you just giving him a handjob under blankets but he needed more, way more. "Bathroom in 5," He mumbled under his breath as he left his seat to head to the restroom. You felt the heat building up in your core as you waited 5 minutes before heading into the restroom yourself. Before you even went to knock on the door he opened it and pulled you in by the wrist. The fancy bathroom of first class is much bigger and nicer than any restroom you've ever seen on a plane. Jeongin immediately went to devouring you. Pulling your pants down and giving himself a couple pumps before he pushed into you, all while sucking on your neck.

Lee Know

Minho is a massive tease, he enjoys making his partner beg for him. While the sex itself can be quite fast-paced like a quicky, he certainly takes his time warming you up. It would start with him sending you some explicit images of himself at dance practice, the gray sweats he's wearing perfectly outlining his hard-on in the photos. He'd then start sending you messages about how much he can't wait to taste you, how wet you must be for him, and how you should just drop whatever you're doing and come meet him at work. His plan worked. You quickly drove over to the practice room, bringing coffee for all the members to try to pass it off like you just stopped by to do a favor. Minho then dismisses everyone to a 10-minute break before whisking you away to the nearest bathroom. He'd waste no time pulling your pants and panties down before setting you up on the bathroom counter. He'd hold your legs apart and dive in, taking in the sweet taste of your pussy. He has to be fast yet skillful, he has less than 10 minutes to make you cum.

Changbin

This man loves his partner and he wants you to know that. That's why the two of you have less quickies and more passionate sex. Although, Changbin does have one fantasy he wants to act out with you that requires some speed: sex in the recording booth. It's the perfect place, soundproof walls allow you to be as loud as you want while also allowing him to capture and record all the heavenly sounds that leave your mouth. He'd mark the room as 'in use' to help prevent potential intruders before bringing you in. His hands would already be wandering all over your body and his lips on your neck and face. The kisses are hot and heavy as he starts to remove your clothes one by one, leaving you in just your lingerie. He hits record before pulling out his thick cock, the sight of him has you drooling. Changbin then bends you over, pulling your panties to the side before sliding in. The way he makes you feel so full has you nearly screaming. The mics picking up on your moans, and the wet sounds that fill the room.

Chan

Chan being third to last might be a bit controversial but hear me out. Chan isn't against quickies, he loves sex with his partner any way he can get it, but ultimately I believe he craves more sensual contact. I think one of his favorite things about sex is feeling his partner's bare body pressed against him, taking in all that sweet warmth. With a quicky, you would generally have most of your clothes on still, depriving him of his favorite feeling. He'd actually love to fuck you in missionary so he can press his chest up against yours, feel your legs wrap around him, and your nails claw at his back. Your bodies would become one as he fucks into you hard and fast, sweat coating both of your bodies. Whimpers and moans would come from both of your mouths as you two get lost in one another.

Seungmin

So I went back and forth about whether or not Seungmin should be so low on this list but let me explain why I ultimately decided this. I think Seungmin is absolutely devilish in bed, he loves to take his time and torture you. He'd tie you up, arms and legs bound to the bed as he pushes a vibrator hard against your clit. The ball gag in your mouth muffles all your moans, leaving you a drooling mess. The most sinful smile would be on his face as he watches your body twitch from sensitivity. Right before he pulls your second orgasm of the night out of you, he turns off the vibrator. He'd take the gag out of your mouth and replace it with his cock. Seungmin would have you gagging and drooling all over his dick before he fills your throat with his cum.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin is a romantic man, sex isn't just sex, it's making love. For this reason, I don't think he would be the biggest fan of quickies. He wants to take his time with his partner when he has sex with them, moving slowly and sensually. He'd love to do something cheesy yet romantic, like handing you a glass of wine and then leading you to a bed covered in rose petals. He'd push you onto the bed, his plump, soft lips against yours. Next, he'd slowly strip you of your clothes, leaving you in just your panties. Then, he pulls out the blindfold, the silky material smooth and cool against your eyes. Hyunjin would pepper your body with kisses and licks as you squirm from your senses being heightened. The sweet scent of his cologne envelopes you as you let pleasure take control of your body.

Least

[serasfanfiction]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 | Part 5| Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

The magnitude of the deal felt more earth shaking this time around. The beams holding up the tower shrieked in protest, shuddering as their bolts fought to keep from detaching from the side of the hotel. The hotel itself was marginally less effected, only the top two floors rumbling as the shockwave moved through them. By the time the wave of their magic reached the bottom floors and the ground itself, it was hardly noticeable, save the fact one would have to be blind not to have seen the magic itself.

The radio tower's occupants blinked at each other, both simultaneously realizing they probably should have sealed the deal somewhere other than a structure held up by a handful of beams.

Alastor drew his hand away, staring around at the mess they had made of his studio. Anything not bolted down or with a sturdy base had toppled over. The coat rack lay on its side, the blanket that had been thrown over it sprawled out beside it. The lamp and table had both been upended. One of the lamp's eyes was cracked, its light dimmed. The remaining eyes skittered around the room in alarm. Alastor's notes had been scattered across the floor, one of the halves on his staff amongst them. The icing on the cake was two of the windows were severely cracked, with a third having a handful of spider web fractures running through it.

Lucifer took it all in, wincing at the damage. He raised his cane, intent on restoring the room and repairing the integrity of the structure. Only to pause when Alastor placed a hand over his hands to stop him.

"None of that, your Majesty." He released the fallen angel in favor of retrieving the half of the microphone that had fallen to the floor and setting it with its other half. "I'm more than capable of taking care of my things if you would be so kind as to carry out my first favor."

Lucifer suspected Alastor simply didn't want anyone messing with his things any more than they'd already been messed with. He gave him a side eye in response to the possessiveness, shoo'ing the redhead back as he stepped up to the desk.

Alastor took a step back up, but only a single one. He wasn't hovering, per se, but it was apparent he was anxious to see his microphone repaired and returned to him.

Lucifer put him out of his mind, concentrating on the task in front of him. He reached out, fingers coming to lightly rest upon both halves of the staff. This would have been easier had it been an inanimate object, although it was likely Alastor wouldn't have needed to waste a favor if it had been. All angels had an innate ability to heal, some undoubtedly better than others. Lucifer's talents lay more with creation and rebuilding. Healing was similar, sure, but it involved forcing organic cells to divide and multiply far faster than they would have on their own until the wound had knit itself back together.

Add to the fact that it had been done with an angelic weapon...

Then again, if it had been a wholly alive being, like Alastor himself, he would have just given it some of his blood and called it a day. With the new knowledge he'd gained, he was suspicious the deer demon had benefited in more ways than he'd known from those two previous feedings.

Lucifer closed his eyes, opening his senses to the very elements that made up the staff. The issue with damage caused by angelic weapons lay with the fact that they were blessed. God himself had created the steal, imbuing it with special powers so that his soldiers could carry out his will with little opposition. As such, there was very little that could stand against angelic steel, save God's oldest children, and even they would still bleed if cut by it. To take divine will to something already damned was to ask for things to get very catastrophic very quickly.

Alastor really had no clue how lucky he was to be alive.

What gave them any chance of this working was that the staff knew how it was supposed to fit together. The two broken ends called to each other. Lucifer just had to bridge the gap so they could comb back together and they would be in business. Falling into autopilot as he allowed the process to guide him, he picked up each half. The break hadn't been easy or clean. The two edges no longer fit perfectly together. He had to pull from the blueprint within the staff's genetic makeup to coach the pole into being a smooth column again. From there, he had the equally hard job of convincing the two edges that they could reform again, but once they were certain it was possible, the two edges became magnetized, snapping and mending together until they were a single, solid structure again.

Lucifer snapped his eyes open. Sitting in his hands was the microphone of the infamous Radio Demon, whole and restored to its full glory with not a hint that it had ever been damaged.

Between one blink to the next, the staff vanished. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer saw it reappear in Alastor's hand. The sinner gave it a twirl, before tapping it to the ground to test its durability. Assured that it was indeed fully restored and could withstand some rough handling, Alastor brought the end to the ground with a hard, sharp crack.

Voodoo symbols lit the air around them with their sinister green glow. Shadows spilled out across the floor like ink, spreading up the walls until the entire room (and likely the entire structure) was engulfed in them. The only light remaining came from the soft glow of Alastor's eyes and teeth.

Lucifer, who needed no light to see, tracked the way Alastor's magic not just coaxed the various misplaced items back into their proper positions, but it also restored them back into their pre-damaged state. By the time the shadows dispersed like smoke and the symbols vanished out with a wink, everything was back to how it had been when they entered with not a single item or sheet of paper out of place. It was as if time itself had reversed itself before his eyes.

Grinning from ear to ear, Alastor tapped the microphone end of his staff. The sound echoed around them as it connected with the equipment, signifying that it was indeed functional again. Outside, the ON AIR sign flicked on for the first time since the extermination. Meeting Lucifer's gaze, expression predatory, Alastor greeted any listener with a radio nearby with: "Greetings and salutations, sinners. Did you miss me?"

He walked the scant distance between where he stood and his work station, deliberately walking around and behind Lucifer. As he passed, he ran a single finger along the fallen angel's back from shoulder to shoulder, merely because he could. "Of course you have," Alastor continued jovially. "Well, never fear, my wicked listeners, as your regularly scheduled broadcasts will begin again soon." Leaning over the controls, he pressed down on a more prominently visible button. What was visible of the ON AIR sign's light winked out as his short broadcast ended as fast as it began.

Seeing him in his element, Lucifer was certain this was the first time he'd ever seen Alastor sincerely happy to any degree. The very air around him seemed to have changed, becoming charged with possibility. It was a stark testament to how diminished he'd been up until that point. Alastor gave the staff a toss from hand to hand, as if refamiliarizing himself with its weight. Satisfied at last, he set it down in front of him, resting his hands upon it. Everything about his body language sang of his satisfaction. "Yes," he purred. "This will do quite nicely."

Lucifer opened his mouth, likely to come up with a witty retort, but never got the chance. It died on his lips as he was cut off by a sharp banging on the window to his left. As one, both turned to see what had made the noise.

Hovering outside, livid with her spear out was Vaggie. And she looked more than ready to break Alastor's windows all over again. She wouldn't have been able to, being on the other side of Lucifer's barrier, but she looked more than happy to try. They could just barely hear her as she shouted, "What the fuck did you do, Alastor?!"

Out of his peripheral view, Lucifer saw Alastor waggle his fingers at her in a wave, completely unconcerned as usual. If he didn't hope that the asshole really would get stabbed one day, Lucifer would have had a little chat about Alastor egging on people who could and would do just that.

Wincing, Lucifer imagined that if Vaggie was here, it was likely Charlie wasn't far behind. It was just as likely the only reason she wasn't outside the window herself was because she couldn't fly. With a wave of his hand, he dropped the barrier around Alastor's domain.

The moment it was dropped, Alastor darted forward. Lulled into a false sense of security by the redhead's previous helplessness, Lucifer didn't react in time to stop Alastor from wrapping a hand around his waist and pulling him in.

Prize acquired, Alastor pulled them both into his shadow.

Lucifer had not paid too much attention to Alastor's shadows, beyond acknowledging they existed and they could be lethal. He had noted how the redhead's personal shadow seemed to have a life of it's own, both working in tangent and separately of Alastor. Lucifer had only seen it twice, but he'd found it to be cheeky and only tolerable because it didn't speak. Unlike the demon who cast it.

Whatever Alastor had plunged them into - whether it be another realm or something else - felt wrong. It felt like being plunged into an ice cold bath, but on a metaphysical level. Darkness to a degree that the simple absence of light couldn't explain surrounded them on all sides. Out of the void came the feeling that they were being watched as they passed through.

Hands he couldn't feel, but still knew were there, curled into Alastor's coat until the fabric threatened to tear. The place screamed unholy. Every instinct in his body reared it's head, telling him that he - a child of God, disowned or not - shouldn't be there. He wanted to light a flame to chase away the darkness, if only he could figure out if he needed to use divine or demonic magic. Above all, he needed to get out. It was only because he wasn't entirely certain he couldn't escape on his own that he didn't actually just portal himself away.

Later, when he was able to think about that place without his mind shying away from it, he'd realize that something about the feeling of it was familiar.

But that would be then, and for now, the whole experience ranked as sheer nightmare fuel. How could Alastor stand it? Was it because he was human and/or a sinner? This place could drive a being insane.

When they reappeared in Alastor's hotel room, it felt like an eternity had passed as opposed to a mere minute or two. Lucifer took a shallow breathe, his whole body shaking like a bird trying to resettle it's feathers.

Oh, that was deeply unpleasant. He never wanted to do that again, ever.

Nonchalant, Alastor took hold of the hand clutching his jacket in a death grip. His smile oozed of false politeness. "Are you alright, your Majesty? You look a little pale."

As if he didn't know that place was messed up. Lucifer was distracted from wiping that smug grin off of the redhead's face by a loud bang against the other side of Alastor's door, the wood around the lock shattering as it finally gave up the ghost of keeping anyone out. The door slammed open, hitting the wall with such force that it ricocheted off of it.

Cherri stood with her foot still poised in the air, giving herself away as the person who had literally kicked the door open. Charlie hovered just behind her, hands in the air as if she had been trying to stop her. Angel stood to her other side, his main arms crossed, while his secondary hands were resting on his hips. "See," he was in the process of saying to Charlie, triumph both audible in his voice and visible on his face. "I told ya we could get the door open without the bombs."

"Yes, well, it would have been better if we didn't damage the door!" Charlie admonished, voice high pitched with stress. She turned her attention to the room itself, tensing as took in the scene in front of them. Lucifer watched her tense, fear twisting her features in a way he hadn't seen since her teenage years. "Dad! Are you alright?" She burst into the room making a beeline for her father.

Lucifer stepped away from Alastor to meet her, putting on an only marginally strained smile. "Of course, sweetie. Everything is fine."

Despite his reassurances, she checked him over for herself. When she was assured he was okay, she turned on Alastor. Her fingers twitched like she wanted to give him a similar inspection, but was holding back. "What did you do?" Her expression was a mixture of concern, anger, and guilt.

Alastor ran his hand down his coat, smoothing the creases out until it was as impeccable as ever. "How suspicious! What makes you think this is my doing?"

"Because it usually is." This was from Vaggie, who had appeared in the doorway while no one was looking. She pushed past Cherri and Angel, who were lingering for the promise of drama and maybe a little bit of curiosity over why the hotel was nearly knocked down for a second time in as many months. She marched straight up to Alastor, and then jabbed a finger into his chest when she was near enough to do so. "First Charlie and now Lucifer?! I knew we should have never let you stay here!"

Lucifer had been content to stand back and let Alastor take the heat. Maybe soil his own image a bit in Charlie's eyes. After all, Lucifer had been willing pay for his help. To make promises he was more than willing to keep, if it was within his power to keep. Alastor was the one who turned it into a binding deal, however predictable the move had been.

Then the implications of what Vaggie said sank in.

He could feel his control over his form slipping as he felt the anger rising. He reached out, almost not wanting to believe that it was true.

But there it was. The green chain of one of Alastor's deals hung from Charlie's wrist, damning evidence of the truth.

Lucifer saw red. His voice was cold despite the fire he could feel burning his tongue. "You made a deal with my daughter?!" The chain creaked as his fist tightened around it. He was going to shatter this little deal, take the remaining shards and shove them down Alastor throat. Then he was going to wrap his hand around his neck and--

"Dad, wait!"

The sight of Charlie suddenly filling his vision felt like being doused in cold water, enough to allow sanity to creep back in and take root again. "Charlie, I told you! You can't take shit from sinners like him." He glanced behind her, still able to see Alastor, posture tense and ears pinned back. His shadow was curled uneasily at his feet, ready to spirit him away at a moment's notice. Lucifer hissed. "They're nothing but parasites feeding off the rest of humanity."

For a brief moment, and only because Charlie had her back to him, Alastor bared his teeth, neither ashamed nor cowed.

Charlie raised her hands to calm him. She paused when one hand didn't raise as far as the other, catching on the chain around her wrist. Wincing at the fact that he was now physically restraining her, Lucifer released it. The chain vanished back into the ether. Freed of the restriction, Charlie lightly placed her hands on his arms, saying, "Dad, it's okay." She smiled to show she really believed it to be so. "He gave us information on how to protect the hotel. I'm happy to do something to help him in return."

Her smile, her trust, had the opposite effect, angering him further. "Charlie..." Lucifer wasn't certain who he was more angry with in that moment: himself for believing that Alastor might actually care about Charlie, in his own way, or Alastor for being none other than Alastor. All the signs were there: the redhead might like to play his games with Lucifer, but his interactions with the Charlie held a hint of genuine attachment to them.

Yet it would always be about power with him, wouldn't it? Could he even help himself anymore, when presented with an opportunity he seemingly couldn't pass up?

Lucifer's expression saddened as he focused on his daughter. His hands rose up to gently take hold of the wrist the chain was wrapped around, even if it were no longer visible. As a parent, he wanted to protect her from situations like these: where she was bound to get hurt. He knew he needed to give her space to learn from her mistakes, but how could he just leave his baby girl in the hands of a known sadist? "If he really had your best interests at heart, he wouldn't have needed to make a deal with you."

Charlie's eyes searched his, brows furrowed. "Dad, I can take of myself, remember?"

Because he never knew when to stop when he was ahead, Alastor interrupted them with, "There's no need for fighting, my dear. Your father is right." A red clawed hand appeared on her shoulder. Both of the Morningstars looked to see Alastor standing at Charlie's side. Alastor was giving her the same look he'd given her during his and Lucifer's swing dance show down over who was the better father figure for her. It made Lucifer's teeth itch with how false it was.

Charlie, on the other hand, merely watched him with confusion. "Alastor? What do you mean?"

As if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, Alastor said, "Only that bonds built on mistrust make for unstable foundations." With a flick of his free hand, a glowing document appeared out of thin air, unfurrowing to reveal Charlie's signature plain as day at the bottom.

It was Charlie's contract.

"I think we can both agree," he carried on, knowing he had everyone in the room hanging on his every word, "That you and I have built such a bond of trust that this silly little thing isn't necessary."

Before anyone could react to that clearly manipulative statement, Alastor took the document, one claw on each of the top corners and ripped it in half. Without missing a beat, he tossed the two halves to either side of himself, the supernatural paper catching fire and burning away as if fell. A wisp of ash touched the floor before disappearing. "Charlie, I release you from our deal."

Lucifer stared, his emotions a storm of confusion and doubt. He couldn't believe what he had just seen. There was no way. Alastor would never have just released anyone from their deal with him unless he was getting something out of it. Alastor didn't do things for the good of other people. This had to be a game somehow. But what did he gain from it? Unease began to creep in as Lucifer tried to make sense of what he'd just witnessed.

The answer came when Charlie inhaled sharply, all but literal stars in her eyes. "Alastor! I'm so proud of you!" She threw herself at the redhead, wrapping her arms around him in a bone crushing hug. "Of course you can trust me!"

Lucifer realized with dawning horror that this, this was what Alastor gained from that little display of pretending to show faith and trust. Charlie had bought it hook, line, and sinker. His whole body locked up, the instinct to protect his child at war with the fear of excommunicating her by killing Alastor for the sheer audacity.

Worse, Lucifer had been right there and he had still failed to protect her from this sinner.

Alastor's expression softened with fondness as he tolerantly patted her head, enduring the forced contact with grace. After letting her have her hug, he gently pried her hands off of him, to which Charlie winced, saying, "Sorry! Sorry, I know. Boundaries."

The redhead gave her a light bop on the nose, to show he forgave her her trespasses. "It's perfectly alright. No harm done." He sent his microphone away to clear his hands, freeing them to clap together, as if he didn't already have everyone's attention. "Now, if everyone would kindly vacate my room, I have a very long To Do List to accomplish and there are only so many hours in the day to do it."

Angel and Cherri didn't need to be told twice, ready to make themselves scarce now that the drama had passed. Charlie moved over to grip Vaggie's arm as they walked together out the door, the taller woman saying with excitement, "Vaggie, did you see! I told you!"

It was a relief to see that Vaggie still looked doubtful, for all that it did nothing to slow down how quickly Alastor was entrapping Charlie little by little.

When it was just the two of them, Alastor turned to Lucifer, his smile maliciously pleasant. "Come now, your Majesty, out you go. One of those tasks is one you appointed me yourself."

It took every ounce of Lucifer's no small amount of self control not to lose his shit all over again now that they were alone. "You may have Charlie fooled, but don't think for a second I don't see through you."

Alastor leaned forward, his hand wrapping itself around their mutual deal. The physical reminder of how entangled they already were casting a golden, green glow upon his face. Bold to his core and with the fearlessness born of someone who knew he held Lucifer's number one weakness in his claws, he said, sweetly, "And yet, I've already got exactly what I wanted."

Lucifer slapped the hand away, as if allowing the chain to disappear would somehow make what he said any less true. "Thin ice, Alastor. Don't forget it."

He pivoted on his heel, refusing to see what the response would have been. If he wanted any hope of being able to work with Alastor, Lucifer needed to leave now before any remaining good will was burned away.

He ignored the way that Alastor's gaze burned into his back, the sensation lingering long after he'd left.

tbc

Part 11

[oomisluvr]

Come and Get 'Em! 

Synopsis: Sakusa hates when your dates come to an end, so if you want your keys back, you better come and get 'em ;)

Warnings: kinda scary (??), hide-and-seek on crack, fluff, light swearing, tickle fights, playful sakusa, forehead kisses, reader is sick of his shit but the love is there, started as an atmosphere-building exercise and evolved beyond my reach, sfw, 2k words!

With the movie now over, you take notice of the bits of popcorn strewed across the carpeted floor, the heavy bundles of knitted blankets crumpled every which way, the sound of heavy rain pelting the windows, but most of all you take notice of Kiyoomi’s soft lips twisted into a sad, dramatic pout. Here it comes.

“Alright, Kiyoomi,” You force a yawn, hoping your sleepiness will soften the blow, “It’s about time for me to get to bed.” 

Ever since your relationship has gotten more serious, Kiyoomi’s been less understanding of the concept of distance. He considers his clothes to be your possessions too, and every date has to turn into a neverending sleepover. You’re almost curious to see what excuse he’ll come up with this time to get you to stay.

“You’re right,” He agrees, placing a soft, feathery kiss to your temple, “Sorry for always keeping you up. I’ll go ahead and start the shower for you.”

“I–” you sputter at how he flipped the script so effortlessly, “No, babe, I need to go h–”

“You probably didn’t even think to bring a change of clothes.” He shakes his head in faux pity, picking up the bundle of blankets and wrapping them around you in an effort to keep you complacent and warm, “That’s okay, you can just wear some of mine.”

“You always do this.” You fight against the blankets and his insistent wrapping, “I have work in the morning, you know this.” 

“Then just go to work from here.” He wraps tighter, “It’s too dark and rainy for you to go home. The creeps are out.” 

“But then I have to wake up early!” You cry, “And you're the only creep I know!”

Your insult rolls off his back like nothing, and he tosses a piece of blanket over your head, securing it to another piece against your side, “Better head to bed now, then. I’ll get your clothes ready.”

“Kiyoomi.” you snap, but there’s too much playfulness in your eyes for it to be threatening. You also look like a croissant with a face, so there’s not much to be afraid of. 

“Y/N.” He returns with a grin. He’s fully leaning back on the couch now, happy with the security of his blankets. You sigh.

“Fine, I’ll stay the night,” You cave, and Kiyoomi pumps a fist in the air to celebrate his victory, “Go start my water, asshat. I’m sleepy.”

“Of course, my love,” He says, and with a bit of pep in his step, he raises from the couch and stalks off to the bathroom, with a promise to come get you when the water is warm enough. 

Now gone, you have at least three minutes to unwrap yourself, get your keys from your coat pocket hanging by the front door, and get the hell out. Slowing your breathing, you listen carefully for Kiyoomi’s movements. You hear the boiler outside rumble to life, meaning that he already turned on the water. Perfect. It takes a great deal of effort to release yourself from the prison of blankets Sakusa built around you, but finally, you break free, stumbling a bit as the soft fabric catches your feet. Already stretched for time, you bolt for the coat rack by the door, hands stuffing themselves inside every pocket available.

The chest pocket is empty, and the inside pocket is, too. Your eyebrows twist, confused. That’s where you normally keep them. No worries, you’ll just check the side pockets– Fuck. You’re greeted with thick, rough, empty, fabric on every side. Nothing, in any pocket. Not your keys, not your hand sanitizer, not your wallet, not even your chapstick remains. This has to be more than a coincidence, but the only person who could have–

Behind you, “Looking for something?” That fucker. He must have grabbed them when he hung up your coat for you.

“Kiyoomi!” You yelp, though it sounds more like a scream. How long was he behind you? And how did you not hear him? “It’s not what it looks like! I was just looking for my chapstick, I swear!” 

“Oh, really?” his lips twist into a satisfied, wicked smile, “Because it seems like you were looking for these.”

It hadn’t registered that he was holding something behind his back until he brought his hand forward. You hear them before you see them, the silver flashes of metal that promise an extra thirty minutes of sleep. Your keys. 

“Alright, Ki,” you confess, putting your hands up in surrender, “You caught me. I was looking for my keys so I could go home. There, happy?”

“Come and get them.” He spits.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Kiyoomi challenges, “If you want your keys back so bad, come and get them.”

With that, he spins on his heels and exits the room, flicking the lights off as he passes them. His footsteps echo through the apartment, then disappear entirely, leaving you alone in the dark, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside.

“Kiyoomi!” you call after him, exasperated with his antics, “Kiyoomi, get back here!”

The only response you get is the sound of your keys clacking together, the jingle reverberating from deep in his apartment. A taunt. A promise. He’s not coming out. You really do have to find him. You exhale, gathering your thoughts. Sakusa is an athlete, and a professional one at that. Getting your keys back would be no easy feat. You had to be smart about this. Gritting your teeth, you whip out your phone and turn on the flashlight, heading into the kitchen to grab an appropriate weapon: the revered wooden spoon, feared by children across the globe.

Now heading into the hallway, you make a plan. You know he’s not in the kitchen or living room, which means he can’t be on the connecting balcony either. Those areas are clear, 100%. So, there are five rooms left: A guest bathroom, the laundry room, the master bedroom with a connecting bathroom, and a guest room that he uses as a study room. 

Your heart is beating so hard, you can hear the thump in your ears. Earlier it sounded like he was in the guest room, but he could have easily moved from there and you would be none the wiser. You decide to start with the laundry room, as it was the smallest, and there weren’t many spaces to hide. Before you can freak yourself out, you slam open the door, screaming the whole way. Whipping around your phone, you search the room with the limited light. It’s empty, as you predicted. Though, that somehow makes it scarier. He’s for sure in one of the other rooms, you have to keep going. Shutting the door, you trust your gut and set your sights on the guest room.

With a loud creak, the door opens painfully slow, your flashlight doing little against the looming darkness of the apartment. Did this motherfucker turn all the lights off? The room appears to be empty, as the bed was too close to the floor to hide beneath it and the closet would be too small for Kiyoomi’s build. You squint through the darkness, your eyes still not accustomed, when you see it.

A pair of shoes breath the curtains. 

With a courageous war cry, you charge towards it, flailing the wooden spoon wildly with murderous intention to hit something, anything. Your heart drops when you pass right through it. 

A trap!? He had time to set a trap? Thunder booms as a shuffle of footsteps pass through the hallway, a deep chuckle passing with it. A chill runs down your spine when you hear it. How was he in the hallway? Cheeky bastard. He’s alarmingly good at this.

Exiting the guest room and shutting the door behind you, you enter the master bedroom with 100% certainty. Initially, you would have thought him to be in the guest bathroom, as that’s where his laugh trailed to. But Kiyoomi was good at this, too good at this, and he probably crept in the opposite direction to throw you off his trail. Reversing his reverse psychology. Regular psychology? Whatever. All that matters is he’s in this damn room and you're going to catch him.

No longer afraid, you turn the cold metal handle and open the door, armed and ready. Now that your eyes are acclimated, it’s easier to take in your surroundings. Stepping into the center of the room you focus your ears to anything abnormal. The cars driving by. The pitter-patter of rain. The clock ticking overhead. The drip of the faucet. The television of the family beneath you. Then you hear it– a sharp inhale of breath, then nothing. It’s no quieter than the sound of a pin dropping, but you definitely heard it. 

Whipping around, you fling the wooden spoon across the room, hitting your target with a soft ow. Behind the door! You charge at him, throwing your body on his and wrapping your legs around his waist, squeezing as hard as you can. You’re laughing the whole way, and Kiyoomi is too, as he stumbles to the bed and flops down. 

“Give me my keys!” you scream, tugging his hair and shoving your hands into his sides to weaken him. 

“Never!” He screams back, laughter muffling his words as you tickle him “You’re staying the night!”

“I didn’t want to have to do this, Kiyoomi,” you whisper, chest heaving. You’re no better than the bundle of blankets lying on the living room floor, arms and legs tangled together like crocheted yarn, “But you’ve left me no choice.” With great force, you shove your hands into the junction of his arm and his side, wiggling your fingers like your life depends on it. 

His armpits. The spiker’s greatest weakness.

“No!” He cries out, gasping for air through breathless laughter, “I give up! You can have your keys! Take them, take them!” 

You halt, untangling yourself from your boyfriend’s heavy limbs, hands outstretched. With a roll of his eyes, he takes your keys from his pocket, and drops them in the center of your palms.

“Fine, you win.” He sighs, flopping back.

“Give me the rest of my things!” you demand with a smile. With a groan, he empties his pockets, and sure enough, he took everything from your coat. “If you do this every time it’s time for me to leave,” you hold your belongings close to your chest in a protective embrace, “I’m never coming back.”

“Then I’ll have to make sure you never leave.” he winks and waves a dismissing hand “I’m kidding. Go home, since you hate me so much.”

“I do not hate you,” you press a kiss to his forehead, rising off the bed to leave, “but I will be taking my leave. I’ll be back tomorrow, baby.” 

“At least let me walk you to the door,” he offers.

“You’ve done enough,” you joke, “Love you, I’ll text you when I get home.” 

He hums in agreement, smiling like he knows something you don’t, “Sure you will.”

Heading for the coat rack, you put everything back into their place in your pockets. Hand on the door handle, your fingers thumb the ridges of your house key. It feels… different. Now that you think of it, your keys feel lighter than they usually do, the familiar weight off by mere grams. Pulling them from your pocket, you examine them closer. Lighting flashes as the realization hits you, cracking thunder follows as your thoughts catch up to you. 

These aren’t your keys, he gave you his. 

“Damn you, Kiyoomi!” you scream.

The soft jingle of keys comes as a reply.

wrote this in one (1) sitting LMAO this is not checked for spelling at all so if grammar is off simply ignore it <33

[mycatsaidwhat]

things i’ve heard college students say pt. 27

-if you hit it raw, why are you voting red? 

-if all he does is smoke and give you meat, you’re dating a barbeque grill sis 

-being horny is a feminine trait, you should be thinking about war

-lord, we thank thee for the food before us *grocery store sushi, sponge bob fruit punch, pokemon-themed fruity pebbles* 

-why does the aftertaste of coke zero taste like blood 

-suck it up, you’re an American, you can do anything with god and Nixon on your side

-i’m too drunk to pray for god 

-if I’m ever in a coma, just show me that meme of Georgia as a state backslapping the Republican elephant and I will bolt upright 

-“Academic weapon” and “alcoholic” both begin with A

That they do, Braden, that they do

-My Little Pony? More like My Big Pony

That did psychological damage

-turning right on red is the greatest civil liberty we have left in this country 

-well as of 1989, dueling does not prevent you from running for public office, so props to you 

-he walks like he got pegged

-if I’m ever throwing up on the side of the road and I text you that I’m drunk, you don’t have to come get me. I always find my way home. Like a pigeon. 

-being in a relationship will NOT solve your problems. Happiness comes from substance abuse 

-I wrote down all the reasons we should do shots tonight. For context I have an essay due tomorrow. 

-I want you to take a picture of Quintin Tarantino in person because he simply CANNOT look that weird in real life 

-you’ve got like 50 feet of intestines, right? You could definitely do a couple laps around a tree with them 

-*is making an alignment chart of writers that we’ve covered in class and whether we could take them in a fight and if we’d feel good about it* 

-i wanna kill everything or die, I don’t know, I’m sad 

-he seems like the kind of professor who would make us fill out the course evals in class 

-he has abs, what do you think we were doing? 

-Here in this house we stand for the flag. The flag being Bucky Barnes in the first Captain America movie, greasy and sweaty and freshly tortured

-I’m just trying to enjoy my shitty Busch light and you bring me Charles LeClerc with his legs spread 

-if I got cancer my private snap story would become an inspirational story and that sounds like a lot of pressure 

-college is just progressively caring less about people seeing what you’re doing on your computer in class. I’m texting, I’m on Doordash, I’m on Shein, I’m on Tinder, I do not give a fuck 

-got stacks on stacks on stacks, baby I clear the racks 

Nice, Dr. Suess, get it! 

I was referencing a rap over Gimme More by Britney Spears, but sure  

-if doing drugs and fucking raw in pools in front of everyone is what adult producers think eleventh graders are up to these days then someone needs to tell them 

-I’d fuck to the Gravity Falls theme 

-you missed the professor’s Coin Jar Day and his annual discussion of child marriage 

[olayaxnangyaite]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒 (I), 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝

NETEYAM SULLY x O'LAYA NANGYA'ITE!METKAYINA!OC!

SUMMARY - THEY DO NOT KNOW IT YET, BUT IT WAS LIKE EYWA MADE THEM FOR EACH OTHER AND THE SEA LED HIM TO HER. THE WATER CONNECTED TWO HEARTS THAT LONGED BUT ONLY GAVE THEM BORROWED TIME. 

WORD COUNT: 1.9K ( I AM SO SORRY)

TRACK #1 : SOMEONE NEW by HOZIER

A/N: NO ONE ASKED FOR T BUT HERE I AM FINALLY WRITING THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THE SERIES THAT HAS BEEN HAUNTING ME FOR WEEKS.

YOU CAN SEE THAT THERE ARE FEW REPRESENTATIONS OF REAL-LIFE CULTURES IN THIS FANFICTION, I FOUND THAT TAKING INSPIRATION FROM THAT VERY BEAUTIFUL CULTURE SOUND JUST RIGHT AND PERFECT TO REPRESENT THE METKAYINA CLAN! JUST TAKE NOTE THAT THOSE MENTIONED ARE FROM A REAL CULTURE! THAT'S ALL :)

I REALLY HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY READING THIS ONE, THE TRACK THAT YOU SEE THERE IS THE THEME SONG FOR THIS CHAPTER ( I recommend listening to it while you read). ANYWAYS, IF YOU EVER RAN INTO AN ERROR OR A TYPO, PLEASE DON'T MIND IT HUHUH JUST KNOW THAT ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. ENJOY READING!

“Just breathe…” Ao’nung whispered into her ear as he guided her arms upon shooting the arrow, he held her arms straight and adjusted her posture.

“Focus. Only look at the target” He let go of her and motioned for her to shoot it, she took one more deep breath and closed one eye, she stretched her arms and gracefully let go of the nock. You can see how swiftly the bolt flew and perfectly pierced the bright red target. O’laya lowered her bow and took a good look at her masterpiece, she grinned and looked back to Ao’nung to see his reaction. He had a proud smile on his face but was soon replaced by a boastful smirk.

“That’s good, but of course, not as good as me” He mocked as smugness filled his ego.

O’laya rolled her eyes and swung her bow up trying to playfully hit him, “Oh yeah? Then what if I-” Before she could take a swing at him a loud longhorn roared throughout the village, stopping everyone in their tracks.

“Maybe next time, O’laya–when you can actually hit me” She scrunched her nose in annoyance and dropped her weapon on its rack.

On their way, they stumbled upon Roxto who was also walking his way to the front. He seemed to have heard of the announcement too.

“What’s going on?” Roxto asked as he walked with them, “Maybe it’s a drill? Or the sky people? I think we need to get our things. At last, after years of training we can finally fight” Ao’nung’s expression was filled with determination, he’s been meaning to make his father proud after all that training the two of them endured.

“Skxawng.” She lightly patted the back of his head which caught him off guard. “Us Metkayinas are not at war, and it will never be. Don’t ever wish that upon the people.” she was grave, with her detested towards the vision of war.

The trio arrived at the shore, where the people gather around something or someone. They walked closer and were surprised to see Na’vis, but distinct.

They approached compelling the crowd to make way. Ao’nung eyed the two kids who seemed to be the same age as them. And of course, the visitors did the same.

As Neteyam paid his respects and also observed the features of this new clan. “Oel ngati kameie” O’laya responded to them and showed hospitality towards the newcomers as she stood beside Roxto and Ao’nung. But Neteyam’s sight lingered on the girl, he couldn't seem to spell it out but he was drawn to her.

Her eyes were as blue as the ocean, her hair was like waves filled with sea shells, and her light skin shimmered against the sun.

Roxto was here throwing questions that seemed to mock the Neteyam and Lo’ak, but Neteyam couldn't care less. Usually, he would defend himself, but this time he couldn't seem to move–it was like he was caught in a trance. It was like he had seen the most beautiful creature there is.

“Ao’nung, Roxto. Enough” She scolded bashing their hands away from them. Tsireya who just arrived, also greeted the visitors. O’laya noticed how her eyes casually glanced at Lo’ak, she let out a titter upon realizing that this is going to be a situation in the future.

O’laya, Tsireya, Roxto and Ao’nung had been friends since the day they all reached the age where they could walk out of their pods and run along the shores and dive with the creatures under the water, so in short, they have known each other since they were kids.

O’laya and Ao’nung usually train together as an order from their fathers, Tisreya and her would practice medicine and healing as a time killer–sometimes they would also teach children to follow their steps as they often look up to them.

After a long process of accepting the Sully family, with Ronal and her critical opinions towards the infamous ‘Toruk Makto’, it was decided. The children of the Metkayina were required to teach them how the reef people work as one. And of course, the two girls were delighted to welcome the Sullys to a new home–Ao’nung on the other hand was forced and demanded to follow his father’s orders.

“Come. I and O’laya will show you the village” Tsireya hovered over the family with delight and a welcoming demeanour. They helped carry the baggage and briefly showed them around the village before leading them to their new home.

“This will be your Marui pod, your new home,” O’laya displayed, carefully placing the baggage down near the entrance. Tsireya gaily accommodated the family while O’laya wait for her at the corner.

Nightfall emphasized the luminous beauty of Awa’atlu. The skies were dark, but the village was alive, the ocean was like fireworks and corals had their different colours. The people were preparing for their supper, it was an annual festival that the Metkayinas perform. It was a way to keep culture humming and alive, it pays respect to the ancestors, and it showcase joy and appreciation towards the gifts and blessings. Looks like the Sullys were just in time, this somewhat serves as a welcoming ceremony. It just so happens that it was also a welcoming ceremony that the Chief arranged.

Roxto, who insisted to invite the Sullys, came to the ceremony with them. The family came and was surprised with the feast and the majestic harmony of the instruments, the solemn pound of the drum and the exquisite flow of the Pūkāea.

Neteyam and the other kids were surely amazed to be awakened to another culture and to open their eyes to a fresh start. They sang with apparent joy on their faces and danced with the wind barefoot on the sand.

The Chief and the Tsahik had arrived not long after, the people announced with lilting to respect their entrance. Behind them were the reef children and followed by O’laya who was at the very back.

Tsireya as the Tsakarem, wore a unique loincloth that was covered with pearls and corals. Ao’nung wore a bright shoulder and waist garment just like his father.

O’laya on the other hand, wore a kelp-like loincloth with braided ends. Hanging pearls and shiny shells would lightly clang as she walked, her hair moderately designed by specifically purple shells. She wore very faint tattoos on her shoulder blades and her neck.

And of course, Neteyam’s focus would soon be on the girl once again. His mouth narrowly agape from the sight, he was denying it in his mind and was trying his best to keep his head away from her. But he just can’t and I don’t think he won’t anytime soon. All the reef people had their unique designs, but for Neteyam, O’laya was simply different. And at this moment, even if Neteyam would restrict himself, he knew, that that girl across the shore would be the end of him.

The ceremony continued and the people feasted on the food that was handmade by the best culinarian in the village. The ceremony was just splendid, it was a night of colours and signing. Tsireya performed as a majestic dancer, side-by-side with O’laya, who sang with her. The men of Metayina, including Ao’nung and Roxto, had performed a very strong and emotional war dance that represented the tribe’s pride.

“Ah…Jake Sully!” Tonowari greeted with enticement, “I see you have met the people. This right here, is Pōwhiri. A welcoming ceremony” he explained with pride for his culture.

“Irayo, Tonowari. This is well appreciated by me–by us family. Thank you” He beamed, with Tuk by his side–who was also amazed by the dancing children.

“zola‘u nìprrte’, Jake Sully.” it was a fatherly conversation that no one intend to listen to, we all know how fathers talk. “Come. I will introduce you to my people.”

After the main event, The people subdued and enjoyed the party to themselves. Tsireya and O’laya parted ways and strolled through the ceremony by themselves. The music was still there, but it was now in a calm that would recreate the relaxing sound of the sea. The background filled with laughter and faint chatter, the people drinking booze and enjoying themselves.

“You should talk to her..” Kiri suggested, eyeing her brother the whole ceremony and noticing how he would constantly look for her. “Huh?” Proving that he was lost in her once again, not even hearing what Kiri had said. “You are no better than Lo’ak” she teased.

“Just look at her, Kiri” His eyes soften at her, and his expression grew calmer. It was like there are visible hearts in his eyes. “Nothing will happen if you just look at her. Talk to her, brother.” Kriri was right, she knew how much head over heels Neteyam was. And it was rare, she had never seen him so focused and so determined to someone.

The boy sighed and grabbed all his courage to follow his sister’s wishes. He pushed himself into the crowd and tried his best to excuse himself to walk to her. And finally, he was now a few feet away from her. She turned in his direction and noticed that he was lingering. O’laya smiled at him and didn't want him to think of her as a snob. Neteyam soon proceeded to her and finally, the two met. “Hey,” Neteyam smiled and stood just beside her.

“Did Ao’nung insist you drink it?” She assumed it was like she already knew what they were up to this whole time. “Yeah, he said ‘To be true Metkayina, you must drink the waipai’” He mimicked the way he talked. O’laya found it hilarious and crackled at his mockery, Neteyam’s tail swang joyfully and was proud to make her laugh effortlessly.

“Neteyam Sully?” She guessed, still not knowing which is which between him and his brother. And he nodded with acknowledgement. “Enjoying the ceremony, I see”

“Yeah. The food is great, Thank you” Neteyam replied, there was a pause after his reply. Rather an awkward silence between them as both didn't know what to talk about. “ did not like the waipai though…” He mentioned,

“I see, I can smell the Waipai on you. When you drink it, everybody could smell it. “ She managed to blurt out. “ yeah, it was too late when I realized he was tricking me.”

During the whole ceremony, Neteyam and O’laya would talk and laugh, sometimes O’laya would almost run out of breath from too much laughter. He would crack jokes and tell stories back from home, some were not even worth laughing at but she did.

The two were lost in their little world, talking about everything, It was the first words they shared but seemed like they have known eachother for too long. A bond of friendship was formed in a matter of just two conversations about how they would train and how important their roles were to their clans.

They were strangers to eachother, someone new. But Neteyam found something in her that he didn’t know that he needed, and that night for him could last forever until- “Neteyam!” a small and childlike voice called out for th boy, cutting off their connection. “Let’s go home” Tuk, who was a few feet away was calling out with the rest of his family.

He looked back at O’laya not wanting to leave her side, waiting for an assurance for him to leave. “Go ahead, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She confirmed. He grinned at the thought of seeing her again and soon followed his family.

A/N : OMG THIS WAS FUCKING LONG FOR A FIRST CHAPTER. I DEEPLY APOLOGIZE IF YOU FOUND THIS CHAPTER EXCRUCIATINGLY LONG. I AM ASLSO APOLOGIZING FOR THE TERRIBLE WRITING SKILLS, I AM STILL STARTING ANG I WOULD LOVE TO LEARN AND NOT TO MENTION, THIS CHAPTER IS SLOW BURN AT IT'S SLOWEST. ANYWAYS, I WILL BE POSTING THE CHAPTER TWO VERY SOON, IM ACTUALLY WRITING IT AT THIS VERY MOMENT. IF YOU EVER RAN INTO ANY ERRORS OR TYPOS, DO NOT BE AFRAID TO DM OR MENTION IT TO ME, I WILL BE MORE THAN HAPPY TO CORRECT IT. AND OFC SUGGESTIONS AND REQUESTS FOR THIS SERIES IS AND ALWAYS WILL BE OPEN. MY DMs ARE OPEN SO CHAT ME UP, LETS BE BFFS GUYS MUAH &lt;333333

IF YOU EVER WANT TO BE IN A TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES, PLEASE, PLEASE MY DMS IS ALWAYS OPEN 24/7

[lovestay-channie]

Traditions- Jeongin Imagine

Pairing: bff!jeongin x gn!reader

Genre: fluffy birthday

Synopsis: it's innie's birthday, and you have a fun way of celebrating!

Word Count: 800+

Warning: n/a

A/N: happy new birthday jeongin!

February 8th

Jeongin’s birthday has arrived, and you have been preparing something for this 23rd. You and Jeongin have been best friends since primary school, and you two have a tradition you like to do with one another. You make each other cursed birthday cakes. This tradition started about 3 years ago when you accidently butchered his cake. He decided to get playful revenge and make you a terrible looking cake for your birthday. Since then, the tradition has stuck.

This year, you decided to make him one that looked nice until you could read the lettering on the cake. As you were smoothing the icing, your doorbell rang. “Come in!” you call out. The door opens and Jeongin walks into your apartment. “There’s the birthday boy!”

“Oh my gosh,” he smiles, taking off his coat to hang up on your coat rack. He pauses to see the cake you were decorating for him.

You catch him staring at his cake with a look of confusion. “Don’t look at it yet! Put something on the TV; I’m almost done!” you say, covering the cake with your arms.

“Okay okay!” he says. “I’m putting on Miraculous Ladybug then.”

“Whatever you want. It’s your birthday!” you exclaim while taking the cake off the island and on the counter so he can’t look at it.

While he was watching his show, you added the letters on top of the cake as well as a few final touches. Just as his episode was ending, you finished the cake. “Alright birthday boy, time for presents and cake!”

Jeongin pauses the TV and stands up, “Should I close my eyes?”

“Of course!” you exclaim and take off your apron.

He closes his eyes and holds out his hands for you to guide him into the kitchen. Once you bring him to the kitchen, you place his hands on the island to let him know where he is. You carefully place the cake back on the island and take out a few birthday candles to light.

“Alright, you may open your eyes!”

Jeongin opens one eye at first, scared to see why the cake looked pretty from a distance. As soon as he read the words on the cake, he busted out laughing.

Peepeepoopoo

A phrase you could not stop saying when you sent him a TikTok one day. It annoys the crap out of him, but he secretly finds it funny when you say it.

“Do you like it?” you question once you stopped laughing.

“I love it!” he wipes the tears from his eyes. “I expect nothing less from you.” He ruffles your hair. You push him to get him to stop messing up your hair.

“Make a wish!” you smile and hug around his waist.

Jeongin puts his hands together and closes his eyes. After a few seconds, he blows out the candle. You release your hold from him to clap. “Happy Birthday Innie!”

“Thank you, Y/n.” He slices his own cake to portion how much he wants. Once you both have your slices of cake, you guys sit on the couch together. “I love this tradition we have. It helps make the day feel special.”

You nod in agreement, “I love it, too. It’s a surprise you know you won’t be disappointed in. Oh! I need to grab your present!”

You quickly finish your cake and bolt to your room to grab the wrapped package for your friend. In a hurry, you place the present in Jeongin’s lap and sit next to him again. You were very excited to see his reaction to his present.

“You didn’t put a bomb in here right?” he teases. You roll your eyes, not commenting on his not so funny joke. He takes apart the present to see a small, plain, brown box. “I love boxes! How did you know?!”

“Oh my god Jeongie. If you don’t open your present now, I’m taking it back.”

He says something along those lines every year without fail. He finally opens the box to see a picture of his house. He gives it a puzzling look. He turns it around to see dates written on the back: February 16th-24th.

“What is this? Is this a picture from a few years ago?” he asks.

“Technically yes. You should see what else is in there,” you point at the white paper still in the box.

He puts down the picture next to him and picks up the folded paper. He unfolds the paper, scanning what is printed on it. He eyes widen in realization, and he snaps his head to you. “Are we going home?!”

You nod your head, your eyes filling up with happy tears. “We are going home!”

He sets the paper back in the box and moves it to the side to give you a bone crushing hug, causing you two to lie down on the couch. “Thank you thank you thank you! I haven’t been home in so long,” he whispers.

“I know. Me too,” you say.

You couldn’t wait to visit home with your best friend.

© lovestay-channie (2024) - please do not repost. all rights are reserved.

[jpitha]

Just a Little Further 12

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Singing. Of course.

I sigh. I'm annoyed at all the attention, but really, I have only myself to blame. I'm the one that just had to touch the directory stone. I couldn't just like, not touch it, oh no.

I stand. "I'll go out and see them. Maybe I can get them to disperse or something before security comes. I have a feeling that the people in charge here aren't going to like this, and I'd rather not have people get beat up in front of us who are trying to worship me, and yes, it sounds odd to me when I say it out loud too." Smiles at that.

Selem stares at the screen, not even turning to face me. "Yes, thank you Melody, that's... probably a good idea"

Something seems off with her. It's like she's having a real hard time with the things going on. More so than the usual stress. Maybe I'll ask her about it later.

"Melody, are you going to don your pressure suit?" FarReach asks.

Ugh, it's still scratched! I haven't even gotten time to play with the "translator" let alone fix my suit. Nobody will give me a couple hours to myself to putter. If this is what being a Living God is, I don't want it.

Too late now though.

I make a snap decision. "No, I won't wear it this time. It's still scratched and we can breathe the air fine. Plus, I'll look less intimidating in my uniform" I gesture down. I'm in my regular ships uniform. Blue shirt, grey pants with sensible shoes. Only decoration is my rank on my shoulder, and my name tag in brass on my breast pocket.

"Are you sure Melody? Last time out they shot at you." FarReach sounds unsure. Hah, I wish FarReach had an avatar, maybe I could read her body language better too!

"I'll be fine Far, it's not like they'll try and kill their own god."

Omar chuckled darkly at that, and Kieran gave me a look. I wonder why.

I headed up to the airlock. It was a long walk from the Command Deck; the Command Deck was in the front of FarReach and the airlock more towards the middle, but now that I know this ship was built during a war, I wonder if it's so far away to help repel boarders.

When I get there, Gene is there already. He has popped open a weapons locker and is taking out a long range rifle. Not one of mine, but I know the model, it's decent.

"And just what do you plan on doing with that?" I ask.

"Captain said I should cover you." He replied without looking up. He was checking the rifle and examining the magazine. It's impeccable though, I was the one who cleaned and inspected it last.

"Cover me?" I said incredulously. "From what?"

This time he stopped and looked up at me. "Melody, have you noticed how Captain Q'ari has been acting lately? She's completely out of sorts and is having trouble making decisions. She wants to leave. Her sense of duty and not wanting to have blood on her hands is the only thing keeping her from ordering FarReach to blow the umbilical and attempt a link home."

I nodded. "I did notice that, yes. I think it's something else though. She started to... act differently when she learned that the people here think we're Gods."

Gene stopped and looked at me. "I didn't notice that." Hah! It's like I have a superpower. I can read people's body language so easily now. It's always been hard for me before and now I just... know. Gene went back to the rifle. "Well, we're not Gods. Just look at our history. I'd be more inclined to agree if they thought we were demons or something. That I can see. Anyway-" Check complete, Gene slots the magazine and racks the bolt." I'm going to stay on FarReach and watch you. I think you'll be fine, but it's foolish to go out there unarmed and with no backup when they've already shown us they're willing to shoot.

I wasn't going to win this one. "Fine." I said. "But stay out of sight, and keep that targeting reticle off my back."

"I'd never aim at you Melody, you know that."

Without answering, I turned and cycled the airlock. I stepped into the inner door with Gene and we waited for it to finish. The outer door opened and Gene got down on one knee and hunched in a corner, just out of sight while I walked down the short umbilical. I was feeling that giddy nervous feeling again. I hated all this attention, but I also loved it. Have you ever felt that? Ugh. I need a coffee.

I pressed the open button on the iris and the sound.

It was breathtaking.

There were way more people here than FarReach let on, and the mics by the airlock didn't pick up the richness of the sound. It must have been three hundred people standing there, all singing and swaying in time. Even with my nanotech, I didn't understand the words, it must just be sound.

I stepped out and stood there, taking in the wall of sound. It was very impressive to be the one hundreds of people were singing about. All at once, they noticed me and stopped. One of them, an Aviens wearing a... robe of pure white approached me.

I struggled at the description because yes, it's a robe but the cut is...

like a space suit.

With a beatific smile the Aviens said "Holy One! You heard our cries! You have come to us in this, our darkest hour! We are at your command!"

With that, he dropped to the floor, on his knees, his head scraping the floor. Everyone - and I mean everyone - followed him.

Oh no.

There they stayed, nearly shaking with joy. I mean, I guess if you were religious and God showed up, you'd be happy too? Ugh. I hate it.

"Rise please." I said "There is uh, no need to supplicate yourselves before me."

The Aviens stood up quickly and with a rustle of clothes and a clank of pressure suits everyone followed. "Oh, but Holy One, you are too kind. We know The Way. We know how you are to be treated." They said, nodding with each thing they said."

"Oookay" I said. "Why are you here then? What do you need? Oh, what's your name too?"

His feathers puffed out immediately when I asked his name. He was very proud. "I am known as The Smell of Soil after Rain and this-" he gestured behind him "-is my flock. We are more than three hundred strong here on this part of Reach of the Might of Vzzx and there are at least twenty more congregations across the the Might."

There are how many?

Oh no.

"That's... impressive to hear" I say worriedly. "The Smell of Soil after Rain, why is it you are here?"

He nods again "We're here to welcome you, of course! It's not every day a Holy One comes back to the World they have wrought to Right the Wrongs that have been put upon Us."

I hear a lot of proper nouns in his speech. This is going to be more trouble.

Just when I'm about to ask for clarification on which specific wrongs I'm supposed to Right, there's a commotion from the rear of the congregation. Turning, Rain and I look. There is a group of Mariens who are wearing a dark unifo- no, I look closer. Their skin has been colored to look like a dark uniform. That's a neat trick. More worryingly they are carrying batons and there looks to be another one of those pistol like weapons the Aviens shot me with earlier on a belt around their middle.

"Disperse! Disperse!" They shout. "This is an illegal gathering! All religious gatherings must be approved by the council of regents, this is known!"

Rain turns back to the security officers and shouts "Your tyranny will be tolerated no longer! The Holy One is here and stands before us! She hears our pleas! She and the other Builders have returned to liberate us. You will be as dust to them and they will take back their rightful place as ruler of the Known, the Unknown and the Unknowable!"

Wide eyed, I turn and stare at Rain. Then, I turn back and stare at the security guards. They actually are faltering. They believe it too! What is going on here?

From behind them, another Mariens, this time flanked with two of the insect people - I haven't leaned their name yet - approach. This Mariens's coloration is more complicated than the security guards. They are probably the supervisor. I do see that the insect people are carrying much larger weapons too. They're like a rifle, but the barrel on the end has no hole. I wonder if it's some kind of energy weapon.

"Enough!" They shout. "You will all disperse or you will be made to disperse. This-" they point at me "-person is no God. They are Not Holy."

Finally, someone speaking sense.

Rain's feathers fluff up and down, they're upset at that. "You blaspheme! She speaks the Tongue as if it were her own, She is a Builder! They comes in a mighty ship through the disabled Gates as if they made it themselves. She is Holy."

The boss, wavers, but only for a split second. I think I only noticed it because of my newfound ability to read everyone's body language. They have someone they fear more than me. "You must disperse!" He makes a clicking noise and the security guards take out their batons.

Rain crosses his arms and glares at the supervisor. "Make. Us."

Oh no. No no no no.

As I realize what's about to happen, I feel something. I get this overwhelming feeling that I need to not only stop them from fighting, but to demonstrate that Rain is right and the supervisor is wrong. I barely have any time to question the feeling when almost automatically I step between them.

"S̵̳̦͑́͋t̶̨͚̑o̸͎̎̂ṕ̴̹̦̚ ̵͍̜̳̔T̷̛͇̓̆ḩ̸̼̜̀̌͝ȋ̸͕̹̺s̷͚̻̬͋̿͆ ̸͓͊a̶̖̗̞̓͊͐t̶̨̜̒ ̷̝̝͎̄̒Ó̷̳͖N̶̢̬̜̕Ċ̸̱É̸͔̫̹͋̋"

My voice has an odd timbre. Everyone - and I mean ev-ery-one - stops and pivots to face me as if they are compelled to obey.

What's going on?

But, only a small part of my mind can wonder at what I'm doing. I'm on automatic now. With a righteous finger, I point at the supervisor. "Who are you that thinks they have the authority over me here. Who are YOU to threaten these sapients with harm over coming to sing and welcome a Builder. WHO ARE YOU to deny them their right to worship me."

As I yell, the supervisor shrinks down, and eventually is kneeling down head scraping the floor just like the congregation did when they arrived. "I-I-I am known as Gemeli H-H-Holy One" The answer is muffled by the ground.

What am I doing?

"Gemeli, you are out of your depth." I snarl.

Why am I taking like this?

My head snaps up and I look at the crowd. As I glare at them, they all shrink from my gaze.

The congregation looks like they just won the lottery though. They all are smiling and nodding.

I want to stop doing this, please.

I feel a breeze around me but I'm too wrapped up in what I'm doing to stop. It's probably just the wind or something.

I turn to face Gemeli but I'm speaking to the crowd again. "All who come before me have the right to worship. All who live here live at the pleasure of the Builders. All who work to usurp that right are known to Us as enemies. Who are you Gemeli?"

More shaking. "I-I-I-I do not usurp your right, Holy One. I am not an enemy."

"Then rise Gemeli, and take your place in the congregation."

Why can't I stop?

"Holy One, my congregation is in the northwestern lobe near my home."

I say nothing and just look at him. He squeaks and lines up next to Rain's people.

I hear a noise. I don't know what it is. Probably nothing. I turn back to the crowd. "Now then, where is-"

A shot rings out from the rear of the crowd. In my fury, I can immediately pinpoint who it is. It's the Aviens from before. The one who shot at me earlier. They're far in the rear of the crowd. This time they're carrying a heavy rifle. Not an energy weapon by the looks of things, a slug thrower.

Huh.

I can see them slowly sliding the bolt to load a new shell.

I can see one of the insect people - one of Gemili's assistants - start to fall. They were shot by the Aviens.

A shot that was meant for me.

This will not do at all.

Without having any ability to stop what I'm doing, without any desire to stop what I am doing, I reach my hands out together and separate them firmly.

The crowd parts, their feet sliding on the panels that make up the floor. It half looks like they moved, and half looks like I moved them. I have a clear line of sight between myself and the shooter.

With a fire in my eyes, I point at them and say:

S̸̢̯͎͍̮̣͈̤̩̼͎͊͒Ţ̵̢̛͉̮̮̩̹̭̭̬̺̠͇̟͓́̂͒̈́̋͂̑͌̏̓͠͝ͅƠ̸̩̦̞͐̋̏̏̂̈́͊̕P̴̙͙̭̪̞̹̙̮͍̐ ̵̢̨̠͙̜̠̰͖̩̝͈͕̭̟̾̉̎͋T̵̡̥̤̤̲͝H̵͍͎̘̥͚̫͔̹̠̤̻̖̼̪͉̑̓̚͜Ȉ̴̛͙͓͈̪̗̩̤̉̌̈́̈́͒́S̷̡̮̺̟͚̟̼̞̪̻̮̰̹͉͊.

Uh oh.

They drop the rifle, and their knees buckle. Bright blue blood trickles from their mouth. They're on the floor.

No.

I look to the crowd and say "What are those who usurp my rights called?"

"Enemies!" The crowd shouts. Even Gemeli and the insect people guards with him join in.

I want to stop.

"What happens to enemies?" I call out.

"THEY ARE NO MORE!" And the crowd descends upon the Aviens.

Please stop.

In no time at all, the Aviens is... gone. Only a violent blue stain remains.

What am I doing?

"MELODY!" It's my radio. "MELODY! What is happening to you?"

The spell broken, I'm myself again. "What do you mean?" I say confused.

It's Captain Q'ari. "Look at yourself Melody! LOOK DOWN"

I look down at myself.

I'm...glowing? My uniform has been replaced with...

Oh shit.

I'm wearing a gown, like the gown Rain had on, but made up of the material of my uniform. It's a deep royal blue. The nanobots are doing something. Not just my brain, I have enough now that they can effect matter around me.

I look behind me worried. Made out of dust and light and... matter from all around me are,

Wings.

On my head is a,

Crown.

The nanobots can do this?

Of course they can, you're a Builder. Builders build. a Voice tells me. It's the voice of who was shouting at the crowd.

Oh no, now I'm hearing voices. Did the Nanobots imprint a personality on me?

Funny. Calling a part of yourself "A Voice" won't negate the fact that you were the one who controlled the crowd. Won't negate the fact that you told them to obliterate the shooter. Nicely done by the way. No half measures here. Everyone here today and everyone who will see the video feed will be one thousand percent sure you are a Builder.

Stumbling and feeling faint, I turn and run back into the airlock. Before I step back in, I turn to The Smell of Soil after Rain and say "Take your congregation and go. Enough blood has been spiled today. I will come and visit you later." with that kind of promise, he practically floats off the ground he's so proud. He turns and starts directing the group to leave.

I enter the airlock and lean against a wall. I feel sick.

Gene sees me, his eyes wide.

"Why didn't you shoot?" I yell.

"You did your... thing with your voice and the crowd descended on them before I could do anything!" He cried.

I drop to my knees panting. Good, good. The voice - part of me? says. Never let them see you weak.

"FarReach, we have a problem." I say, gasping.

"Gee Melody, do you THINK?" She replies, almost shouting.

"I'm a Builder now, and FarReach?"

"I think the Builders were the bad guys."

Part 13

[tmntxthings]

A ‘How to’ Guide by Raphael

author’s note: uhm yeah so take this and don’t hate me for leaving all those requests hanging :D I’ll get to them… eventually hehe

warnings: music inspired, guess the song, fluff, comfort, confessions, big brother advice, unedited

———————————���—————————————

Raph didn’t have much on his plate, though he would consider himself busy when Donnie rushed into the weight room. He was in the middle of pushing up the weight bar, racked with five plates on each side. He was sweating and grunting and trying to push through because he knew he could do it! It had been a looong time since he hit a new rep max.

So all his hopes and concentration were dashed when Donnie bolted in with a loud “RAPH!” The weight came crashing down as his muscles jumped at the sound and he quickly moved out of the way before his plastron was caved in. “What?!” Raph exasperated, he had never heard Donnie sound so desperate before. Raph was up and giving his little brother a once over. He looked fine physically. But something was definitely on his mind, Raph watched as Donnie hesitated to say more.

His brow bones came together, just a few seconds ago it had been so important he was almost crushed by weights! “I- uh- well, okay,” Donnie took a deep breath then continued, “hypothetically what if you messed up real bad, with someone you really cared about? What would you do?” Raph’s eyes narrowed trying to figure out what to say to that very vague, hypothetical statement.

“Well, first, how about you give me a little more context of this uh- hypothetical situation?” Raph prompted. He turned to the dropped bar and started taking off the plates from the left end. He’d have to try for his max another time. Donnie groaned, he really didn’t want anyone, much less his older, super protective brother to know… but if he kept thing’s hypothetical then perhaps it would all work out.

Dee cleared his throat, “right, okay so let’s just call him Darwin! Darwin has been secretly meeting with a girl, they were super close friends, like really really close, Darwin thinks about this girl all the time..” Donnie takes a breath and Raph glances up nodding to his little brother for him to know he’s still listening. All the plates on the left side were picked up, he turned to start on those on the right side.

“But out of nowhere the girl confesses to Darwin, that she thinks they should be more than friends! And he.. ugh, he ran away! And now she’s not replying or anything—“ Raph held up his hand, signaling for Donnie to pause. “Okay I think I got it, so you want my advice to help out your buddy Darwin?” Raph knew Darwin meant Donnie but he’d play along for his little brother’s sake. “Well is such a situation fixable? Darwin’s screwed up pretty badly.” Donnie’s shoulders slumped, head hanging down to the floor.

With the weights picked up, the last thing was the bar. Raph easily picked it up now, putting it back on its holster. “Sure it’s fixable, if Darwin’s girl really did love him, and if Darwin feels the same way.” Raph watched as Donnie’s head slowly rose. He could see hope flicker in his brother’s eyes. “But it won’t be easy!” Raph said making his face stern and Donnie was nodding along.

“Alright, this is how yo- Darwin gets the girl.” Raph nearly fumbles but maintains the analogy as best he can. “He’s gotta go to her, and say exactly why he couldn’t say what he’s about to say now.” Donnie’s eyebrows scrunched up, “what’s he about to say now?”

“He’s about to confess his true feelings, that he loves her just as much she does. How he doesn’t want to lose her!” Raph ticks off these statements until he’s holding up three fingers. He continues on to the next hand, “Then y- he says ‘I want you for worse or for better and I would wait forever and ever’” (Sure he’s quoting someone else’s words but Raph figures Donnie’s too preoccupied to notice.) Donnie winces at the word ‘love’ but nods nonetheless. Raph pauses his finger count at five, “Does Darwin love her?”

Donatello is quiet and some moments pass. Raph approaches his purple brother and brings a hand to rest on Donnie’s shoulder. Donnie’s eyes snap up, he looks scared, he looks confused. “Well from what you told me, I think Darwin loves ‘em. He thinks about her all the time, is worried when she doesn’t respond..” Raph watches as realization hits Donnie with full force. “So.. Darwin has to go to her, and tell her how he really feels?”

Raph nods, he brings his hand to pat Dee’s head, “Yeah and he should try not to run this time around,” he says lightheartedly. Donnie smirks, “Alright, yeah!” He’s fired up now. Turning back to the weight room entrance. “I’ll pass the advice along, thanks Raph!” Donnie gives his older brother a nervous smile before he’s dashing out.

“Good luck!!” Raph calls out. He hopes he helped, he hopes things work out the way Donnie wants. He hopes he gets the girl.

—————————————————————————

ITS A GOOD SONG. AND RAPH WOULD TOTAL QUOTE LOVE ADVICE FROM TSWIFT. 😭❤️🐢

[jades-typurriter]

Possum, Possum, Massive Bosom

This is a commission for @totalcudgel from back in August 2023! Fun little POV thing about finally having the tools to express yourself, and also getting fat and fuzzy and hot.

CW: Weight Gain, Genital TF, A General Horny Slant, Visceral TF Details

You hurry home from the market, furtively clutching your satchel at your side. You are a witch—yes, a witch, despite what those older, harsher, more traditional than you might say—and, even in light of all your years of inquiry, what you have just found will be the most instrumental piece of arcane knowledge thus far. You cannot lose it. Even though the magic isn’t forbidden, even though it isn’t highly-sought-after, you can’t bring yourself to leave it to the open air for even a moment. Part of you is afraid that it’s really an illusion, or that the pages might flutter away on the wind right in front of you. You clutch your bag more tightly and walk a bit faster.

Finally returning to your study, you double-check that you’ve bolted the door behind you and drop the bag onto your desk. You retrieve your prize, sliding it out into your hands, eyes dancing along the cracked leather of the makeshift binding and taking in the autumn canopy of its differently-yellowed pages. Tentatively, you lift the cover, quieting the part of your mind that still wallows in disbelief. It’s all still there: sheafs upon sheafs of handwritten notes, passed down from pioneer to self-practitioner, on the art of transmuting the self.

You wonder at the spellbook, idly considering how you’ll add your name to its long list of authors when you’re done borrowing its rituals, your mind a whirlwind with the possibilities of new discoveries to add to their pooled knowledge. You hesitate at the thought of your own signature. Your name is… well, you’ve learned not to give away such information freely. Too many things in the woods sought to steal names—powerful concepts, they are! They wield them as tools in their own magic, but your name is no tool. It is another chain, the same as the shackles imposed upon you by your current form. The name you have now won’t matter, soon; it was never really yours, anyway.

You thumb through the book, searching for observations on the first set of changes you plan to make on yourself. Carefully, you remove the aged pages from their bindings and mark their place in the book before spreading them out on your desk. You hustle around your room, scouring spice racks and stoppered bottles of reagents for the necessary materials, and scribble out a circle through which to connect them and conduct your magic.

Your throat tightens with excitement as you recite the incantation: concalefacio ex fax, flamma per ardor. It continues tightening as you speak, your vocal cords creaking in your larynx as they mold themselves to accommodate a voice with a higher pitch. Your new voice. The bones in your face follow suit, shifting and contorting, the words shaping the jaw they themselves are shaped by, cheekbones fitting to new arches and chin sloping to a smaller, less pronounced point. You don’t care to look at yourself in a mirror, yet; you have other plans for your face. Regardless, you’re distracted—fascinated—by the changes occurring elsewhere in your body.

Your shoulders POP as they twist, your scapulas shrinking and your collarbones shortening to accommodate their inward migration. Your hips do the exact opposite, widening with crunches that rumble through the base of your spine; you briefly struggle to regain your footing, now that your legs come at slightly different angles to each other.

Between your legs, you feel loose skin begin to shift and tighten; your balls feel very snug against your crotch, and suddenly—ffmp, ffmp—they’re moving into the now-roomy space inside your pelvis. The skin that once held them stretches, then splits, a feeling not unlike working out a stubborn kink in the spine: satisfying, a bit of a relief. Your cock, likewise, begins to retract into you; you feel it becoming more and more sensitive as it goes, and merely feeling it brush against your undergarments as it shifts is enough to force a (now cutely squeaky) moan from your lips. Your foreskin loosens a touch, forming a hood over your new clit, as well as part of another set of lips.

Your chest begins to tingle, as well. At first, it’s not as powerful as what you felt between your legs, but as it begins to soften—begins to swell—and as your nipples begin to stiffen between your cloak, the rough fabric rubbing up against them makes you squirm. You suppress the urge to squish your new breasts in your hands; you’re already swaying as your knees buckle, and you don’t think even more bouncing would help at all with how overwhelming it all is. Your head is swimming. The new sensations make you tremble, even as you try to sit still, to minimize the friction between your clothes, your now-pleasantly-wide thighs, and your pussy. You have more work to do, though; even as you feel a wet spot forming between your legs, you tuck the thoughts away as best you can. (You’ll definitely revisit this later, though.)

Carefully, you make your way back from the slipshod magical circle to the desk, and with deliberate and measured movements, tuck the notes back into the tome. You begin your search, methodical as ever, for the next set of spells you wish to cast. As you move around your study, you can really feel the extra weight on your body: your new center of gravity forces you to adjust your gait, and your footsteps fall that much more heavily for all the changes. At least the magic circle comes out more crisply, this time. Forcing yourself to move slowly so you don’t soak right through your clothes means you’re in much less of a rush.

As you speak the spell into reality, this time the change begins in your nose. You feel it stretch and narrow, taking part of the front of your skull with it. Soon, it’s extended far enough that you can see it without having to cross your eyes: a little pink dot at the end of what is now your snout. You wince as a set of whiskers erupts from the skin behind it—itchy!---and you feel dizzy for a moment as they begin to bombard your brain with new information. The movement of the air around your face, the angle of the tilt of your head—it’s like spinning around and being able to get dizzy twice. As you adjust, you watch as more hairs begin to sprout around your snout. This time, it’s not more whiskers, but a coat of stiff, short, gray fur.

It rolls along your cheeks, around your eyes, and up until it meets the hair on your head. From there, you feel it cascade over the rest of your body, bringing change with it as it passes; your ears wrench and twist, sliding themselves up the sides of your skull until they sit atop your head, bringing their respective canals with them. Your spine grows to nearly twice its length, and in the moment before the skin above your rear gives way to give it room, you were worried it would split you in half. Instead, powerful muscle snakes along with it, growing from your body until it’s long enough to wrap all the way around your legs and still touch the floor. With your legs now bent at the odd angles of an animal’s hind limbs and your feet converted into squishy paws (you enjoy the new spring in your step as your center of gravity adjusts yet again), your new tail is the only part of you not covered in fur.

Your head hasn’t stopped buzzing with new sensations since the development of your whiskers; you thought you’d be used to it after a few minutes, but if anything, the opposite is true. You expected to look more like an animal—an opossum was the creature whose aspect you wished to bear. You realize now that you’re bearing more than just its visage. You feel hungry like an animal, now, too, and the fire building up beneath your cloak is becoming harder to ignore by the moment. You aren’t satisfied looking more like yourself—you want to be as much of yourself as you can possibly be. You storm over to the book again, leafing wildly through the pages, nearly tearing some of them with your new claws. You whirl around your shelves again, grabbing more ingredients, far more ingredients than are called for by the ritual, and organize them even more hastily than when you had first returned home.

You practically bark the words to kick off the spell, and your magic courses through your body with equal force and fervor. Where you had grown before, you grow again, almost all at once: your hips widen and your rear grows large enough to wobble with even slight movements; your thighs grow softer, squishing together, rubbing up against each other (and further fanning the flames of what seems to be your new heat cycle) with every step you take. Your breasts balloon out again, quickly going from “perky” to “stretching the fabric of your cloak”, and begin to squish down onto your stomach under their own weight. Before you can even begin to think about how to hold their weight, your stomach starts filling out as well, gurgling, heavy, and every bit as sloshy as your new tits. At least it gives them a sort of surface to rest on?

The strain on your clothes doesn’t let up—your undergarments give way first, tearing at the seams along the outsides of your hips, falling to the floor out of the bottom of your cloak. The cloak, now stretched against your belly and your chest, holds out a bit longer, leaving you feeling, for a moment, like a bundle of cushions that’s been bound up for shipping. The neckline frays, and the clasp snaps cleanly at the hinge; your chest pours out through the remains of your shirt and into the open air, your tummy bursting forth a moment after. Your arms are heavier to lift, you realize, and your legs are struggling just to lift the rest of you. As you look down, you feel the friction of fur against fur and notice that your chin has drooped a fair bit, and turning toward the mirror, you see that it nicely matches the new, fuller shape of your face. You don’t fit in the vertical vanity anymore, you realize. Looking back at your workspace, you realize you’re nearly wider than the tabletop!

You’re unsure how you’re going to handle your new urges—well, they aren’t really new, but you’re certainly going to have to get used to new ways of dealing with them—what with your rolls and rolls of stomach in the way of doubling over. For that matter, you wonder how you’re going to manage navigating your study. You’re certainly going to have to be more careful around the more delicate storage items on your shelves. Hell, it’ll take you a little more effort to reach your shelves! You suppose that, if you ever get really fed-up with the extra encumbrance, you can cast another spell to take some of the new weight off. After all, every spell after that will be much easier, right?

Your thoughts then turn to the outside world again. You’ve certainly shown all the old fogeys who doubted you that you’re more than capable of reaching your full potential—your truest self, you might say. You’re also not looking forward to squeezing out of your own doorframe to go tell them. You suppose you have time before worrying about that to prepare yourself a smug little victory speech; further, you suppose that now’s as good a time as any to give yourself that new name, so that you can make a proper declaration regarding your dominion of your own form. You’re terrible at names, but you do happen to know a book with a long list of old masters you can style yourself after! Not all of them chose feminine names for themselves, but you’re sure there are enough there for you to find one that you like.

You move to return to your desk, relishing the way the rafters rattle with each step. As you sit on the (now almost comically-undersized) chair, gingerly laying your weight on it ounce by ounce, you hear it CRACK and groan beneath your prodigious ass. You smile to yourself, proud of what you’ve accomplished. This isn’t the way that most witches fantasize about the earth shaking at their thunderous approach, but you think it suits you quite nicely.

Thank you for reading! If you'd like a commission of your own, my prices are here; if you'd just like to see more of my work, check here!

[hypaalicious]

IS4 thoughts

I’ve completed everything in this thus far and I remember I usually do a “review no one asked for” about Integrated Strategy iterations, so leggo

General improvements: the ability to choose which ending to go for rather than relying on RNG, fun Fordartal shenanigans, added perks to relics on higher Braving Nature levels

General annoyances: unable to stop the Collapse level from rising (unless you pick the Eternal Hunting Squad), being locked into Braving Nature 0 in the beginning, both the 2nd & 3rd end bosses being a DPS and/or ASPD check

Aiight so… best and worst categories GO

Best starting squad: Special Training Squad

The worst part about higher ascension runs is the +1 Hope cost for recruitment and this squad mitigates that. Made my BN 10+ runs a lot less painful LOL

Worst starting squad: Scientific Thinking Squad

Yeah, you end up with max Anti-Interference by like floor 3 but being blind up until then is annoying lol.

Best Fordartal: Sing

Listen. Hardly anything beats the endorphin rush of ASPD boosts anyway, but also I have not managed to beat the 2nd or 3rd end bosses without help from it.

Worst Fordartal: Hunt

I’m truly not tryna ASK to get my ass whooped outchea, y’all can keep this 😭

Least harmful Collapsal Paradigm: Convergence Consumption

For the most part I can just avoid getting screwed by this at all by skipping Bosky Passage nodes

Most harmful Collapsal Paradigm: Barometric Anamoly

Fuck this one to the pits of hell 😭 Have me mad as fuck watching my DP like

Easiest Emergency Node: Hands of Moss

Yeah, it’s a 1st floor stage anyway but like any of the others can steamroll you immediately if you have a poor starting lineup, this one is the safest bet cause nothing really changes about it from regular to emergency mode.

Worst Emergency Node: tie between March of the Dead & Stay Away From Strangers

If we being real? NO 5th floor combat stage is safe at high ascension 🤧 it will always be a fight for your life, but these two can be run-enders. MotD throws in two mudrock Colossi for funsies and SAWF will end in tears if you don’t have the ranged units to get all them drones gone and the swiftness to pick off all the Rot Eaters before they get too beefy to hold off.

Best Bosky Passage effect: Concentration Disorder from IS3 on steroids

I love set and forget shenanigans because I assure you, I will be setting and forgetting anyway! *grins in ADHD*

Worst Bosky Passage effect: too much Dominion

Don’t fuck around and get this while also having the Substantial Collapse paradigm. Whole map gonna have fart clouds on it. Pain.

Best new Relic: ‘Devotion’

Is it game breaking? No. But chip damage on enemies for healing racks up!

Worst new Relic: Frozen Whetstone

Way to make Bladedance absolutely useless LMFAO like honestly if there’s one thing is4 is good at is giving really good relics some disappointing handicaps.

Okay. Now onto the bosses!

Samivilinn aka that bigass ice mountain with an attitude

Very straightforward. Typhon will trivialize this boss and Reedalter will trivialize the stage itself by clearing it of all the ice in one s3 activation. The enemies on the right hand side tend to be more annoying to corral but if you have Eyjalter with her s3 it’ll keep the whole squad across the map healthy enough to push through.

Eikthynir aka the Snowpriest who really wants to be Usain Bolt

Full disclosure; most of my wins against him required creative stacking of Sing fordartals and proper timing/abuse of Goldenglow’s s3 to get him down most of the way before he speedruns the exit. But so many battles have ended up with him blowing past all my blockers with 1% health and me not being able to do shit but watch 😭

Crazelyseon, aka the teleporting Flying Spaghetti Monster

A menace 😭 Invulnerable 90% of the time, warping around the stage, dropping cancer squares of doom, and worst of all the time limit. If you don’t kill this thing soon after it starts warping three times in a row then you’re finished cause it’ll explode. I haven’t felt such a time crunch on an IS boss since BSL.

Best practice is to set up your heaviest hitters at two of its stopping points and only activate the device when it’s overcharged to get the most bang for your buck. You have GOT to time it right tho cause if you get impatient or your DPS gets wiped then the whole stage goes to shit really fast. Once again, I have never beat this boss without an ASPD boost of some kind.

Great Operators for IS4:

Ines - her invisibility reveal is goated

Typhon - really good for general carry on all floors but outside of the ice mountain boss her meta-ness falls off esp at higher ascension levels

Reedalter - her s2 will melt anybody including those Shattered Champions

Eyjaberry - frankly indispensable, her s1 holds it down and her s3 reaches everywhere

FedExecutor - his s2 allows him to dodge most bullshit and he holds his own despite not being able to be directly healed

Virtuosa - def a luxury pick and fairly new but a way better source of Necrosis damage than Valarqvin and just overall very fun to play

Ling - I usually do not play SummonKnights because I don’t have the brain cells but honestly the runs I’ve done with her were solid and fun especially with the Empty Fowlbeast relic

Ho’olheyak - rather mid as a Core Caster but with the relics that boost levitation effects she can actually hold her own

Jessica Wick - her deployable shield can buy you some time against these sprinting mobs

Yato alter: she’s a key FastRedeploynights operator for a reason!

Mlynar - full disclosure; I don’t really use him in IS unless I get him as a temp recruit because while his damage output is unrivaled, I hate how he can’t block shit unless his skill is up

Ethan - a low cost GOAT at crowd control. That Prisoner’s Night stage is trivialized with him

Other random tips:

Avoid the Nameless Hero stage. Please. 😭 If you come across the Always on Alert encounter, just dip. Expeditiously.

When going for the 3rd ending, don’t go in a Scout node until like floor 4. Why? Cause that Routeweave Net will make additional enemies appear in all your stages and it’s best to just put that off till the last moment. By floor 5 if you take the bottom most route the Prophecy node that’s supposed to be the fork to get to Eik’s stage will turn into the one you need to get the Boundless Gift to open up floor 6.

GG’s s3 is garbage for the ice mountain stage. She’ll target every individual ice square before she decides to hit any enemies.

If you pick up the Scarred Amber relic, maximize your slay by stacking hella Plunder or Migrate Fordartals

Always save your best Fordartal combos for end stage bosses! There’s no limit of how many buffs you can stack on a node so take advantage of that.

After a certain Collapse level is reached you won’t get any more Fordartals outside of what you can buy from Cannot or get from a unique Encounter

There are two secret Collapsal Paradigms to unlock. One obscures your operators and the other obscures the enemy health bars and how many life points you have left. Both are fairly annoying. BUT STILL BETTER THAN BAROMETRIC ANAMOLY

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

Little less than super, soldier

Part 4- THE END!

God damn this was meant to be short but hey.

First / Previous

Summary: Zemo has escaped but how will y/n deal with the fallout.

Zemo X OC (but written an reader insert in-case you wanna play in the space. backstory linked in part one ✌)

Warnings: gore, body horror, self deprecation,

The fight had ended poorly. Bucky missing an arm, the Dora Milaje humiliating John and his reddening face inches from your own.

"You let Zemo go!" He roared, spittle flying out at you. You feigned surprise, moving to look but he had you by the shirt in a second.

"Let them go." Bucky growled. Walker sneered before he made a dramatic gesture of dropping the fabric in his hand. You went to scamper back but he grabbed your arm in a bruising grip.

"No no Y/n, you are under arrest..." John began. His nostrils flared as he glared down at you with a smug grin. He was furious and it seemed he would be taking that out on you.

"Wait no you can't..." Sam cut in coming forward.

"Can't I? You gonna go against the law... again?" John snapped spinning you. You didn't struggle as you looked to Sam and Bucky. Sam stood frozen as he watched you get cuffed while Bucky seemed to be staring incredulously at him.

You tore your eyes from them letting John pull you to the door. You fought back the tears at their silence as you stumbled in John's forceful grasp. They were abandoning you? After everything Sam no longer trusted you and it shattered your world.

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John had been gone for some time and you hadn't seen Lemar since they'd chained you up there. Why he'd not just brought you to some US embassy or something was beyond you. Though they seemed to have to rush off suddenly and had just picked some place to tie you up in.

So you stayed cuffed to the metal scaffolding in the warehouse. Light fell and rose and you drifted in and out of sleep. It'd rained at some point and the floor you were laying in was still wet.

You couldn't find it in yourself to rise instead letting the cold rack your body. You didn't even tug against the metal of the cuffs. Maybe this is what you deserved. Maybe Sam was right to leave you to John and the government. That this would be your punishment for abandoning the world; for believing Zemo was right here, for not even stepping in to help them against the dora, for being useless.

You wanted to hate Sam and Bucky but he'd done the right thing, he always had. This must be the right thing for everyone then? It was yourself you found the rage turning on. Where you stupid to fall for Zemo's kindness? Had every moment with him been to lead you to this.

Though it couldn't have been right? He'd offered you an escape but to take it you'd have to turn your back on Sam forever. You just couldn't find it in yourself to do that. You only had yourself to blame.

John returned in a state. Running into the building and spinning in some kind of distress. You remained silent as you observed him. Something had gone terribly wrong and your thoughts quickly turned to concern.

John seemed to oscillate between rambling whispers and shouts. As he turned you saw the blood. A shocking red against the gleam of the shield. At this you froze stiff not even fearing a breath that might draw his attention. What had he done? Was Sam okay? Helmut?

He turned to you suddenly and you felt a sudden bolt of fear. His face seemed set and he walked purposefully to you. In flashes you saw soldat in his place. The metal arm coming to take you. You couldn't help but flinch at him though he payed it little mind.

His grip was stronger than before as he hauled you to your feet. He un-cuffed the hand securing you to the wall and gripped your wrist to re-cuff them together. The pressure was imminence and you hissed as you tried to tug away from the pain. John yanked the hand to restrain you and you felt the bone snap.

You shrieked at the sudden pain before he shoved you forward.

"Time to go to work." He spoke.

You lifted your head to see Sam and Bucky a few meters across the empty middle of the warehouse. For a second you were sure they weren't real but they remained solid. They'd come back for you?

Sam was focused on John but Bucky's eyes shifted sympathetically to you. His hand subtly out to still you, to tell you not to move as they tried to talk him down. He grimaced at your limp hand before shooting a glare back to Walker.

Walker seemed distraught, Lemar was dead and he was on the war path. As soon as Sam mentioned the shield he seemed to shift and his voice took on an aggressive bite.

Bucky moved first and John was on them in an instant, tossing you into a pillar with a sickening snap. The fight was brutal to watch as your writhed healing your spine on the ground. Walker was definitely stronger but how? Hadn't the serum been destroyed? Walker flung Bucky across the room and you rose. Sam was still on the attack but even with his wings John was beating him.

You staggered to your feet even as your insides screamed. Something was piercing something else but that didn't matter right now. You tackled into John as he swung the shield into the ground above where Sam's head had been. He rolled with you before pinning you to the ground. You swung your bound wrists as you tried to catch the metal against him but his mask took the hit. You snapped your teeth at him as you tried to wriggle out.

John brought the shield up over his head and you heard Sam call out to you. The the red, white and blue was brought down into your face. It was beyond any pain you'd experienced in years. The bones cracked and caved in, your eyes popped and within seconds your waking mind left you.

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You woke with a start shrieking out for Sam. He was at your side in an instant assuring you it was over and offering water. You accepted looking around the room before surveying Sam. He was hurt but okay and with some persuasion he let you heal him.

"Always hated the way that felt." He said when you pulled your hand back. "Like itchy?" You laughed at that. He was right, pain was pain but the healing always felt invasive.

"Look, I'm sorry about..." Sam began.

"No!" you cut in. "I'm sorry, I let all this stuff get to me and I wasn't helpful." You tried to explain but found yourself stopping when Sam let out an almost manic laugh.

"There you go again. It's not your fault, Zemo got in everyone's head. Bucky's off to deal with him" Sam met your eye. You shifted your gaze to the ground at that. It felt shameful to admit to Sam you'd grown fond of the man and you worried what would happen to him. Especially if you'd just been a fool in his game.

"And you've been a massive help. I hate to ask for something else but..." Sam trailed off shaking his head.

"Anything Sam." You stressed. You felt awful at this situation, like you needed to make it up to him more than just healing some scrapes.

"I gotta sort something and Sarah's heading home, I'd just appreciate if someone else was with her. At least til I get back." Sam shifted uncomfortably.

You of course agreed to go and were on a flight with him back to the US. You were thankful to this Torres fellow for getting you passed security. Then you split from Sam at the airport heading out to meet his sister and her boys.

Sarah was kind, every bit as delightful as Sam and then some. You took to helping her make these batch meals for folk. She was good at giving you direction but her boys made quick work at roping you into their games instead.

"Really? You've never played hide and seek?" She asked as you counted for them. She'd left the stove to come check on you in the living room.

"No, well maybe? You don't normally attack when you find them right?" You spoke with your hands hiding your face, though you could hear the brief panic in her breath.

"I'm kidding." You grinned behind your fingers.

"About the game or...?" She began making you laugh. She chuckled along before you took your hands from your eyes.

"I think I should get some help." You confessed meeting her gaze. She frowned in that little concerned way Sam did. "I... Sam told you about..." You tried to begin.

Her hand covered yours in your lap and you remained very still. "Yeah, not sure who you could talk to about this but sometimes you gotta let people in. Folk who know what you've been through that you can speak about this with."

"If your talking about Sam he doesn't know all the details..." You sighed. Still even after your short trip and time here, you could let her keep a hold of you. She squeezed a little before rising.

"Doesn't have to be Sam but you gotta open up to someone. Someone you feel comfortable around, that makes you feel safe you know? Now go look before those boys start to worry you forgot about them!" She laughed.

You smiled, someone that made you feel safe?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam came back soon with an easy smile for you and you felt yourself drifting back to your usual comfort with him. You spent your day with him and Sarah's boys untangling fish net. Then you'd spent the evening watching anything Sarah recommended. Sam was preparing to fix the boat to sell it and you immediately offered your help.

"Do you know anything about boats?" He asked.

"No..." You admitted and he just grinned.

Bucky returned that day, immediately jumping in to assist Sam. You couldn't help but grin at him. In a lot of ways he was so much like you. Only he had a normal to look back on for how to act with people. Even if his manners may be a little out of date.

He seemed stiff around you but as the time fixing together passed he eased up. Even joking with you when you'd struggled with some of the manual jobs.

"Come on if I can't help you at least use your legs!" He encouraged as you tried to shift a box.

"Not all of us got cool robot arms for their troubles!" You huffed giving up on the thing. Bucky's face looked strained again. You sighed to yourself, Sarah was right. Things were still a struggle between you both but maybe a little openness on your part could ease him.

"You know it's not you I was ever scared of right?" You assured, shifting as you tried to get into Bucky's vision. He kept turning but you danced around him. You knew you'd hit the nail on the head.

"Not gonna stop till you look at me bud." You laughed and Bucky stopped. His face was still pained and you found your heart breaking for him.

"I never blamed you. We all you knew who you were, what they'd done. None of us in that mountain blamed James Buchanan Barnes for what the soldier was forced to do to us." You explained. "I've been jumping at a shadow of a nightmare" He nodded to you but his face remained serious.

"Then why'd you pretend about the pain..." He frowned at you. Your mouth bobbed open before he interjected. "And I know it does really hurt so why bother lying about it."

"Because it made you feel better." You admitted. Bucky gritted his teeth and you could see his confusion still on his brow. "We deserved a fresh start with one another, right?" You asked as he met your eye again.

Bucky nodded slightly. You knew shifting it to be about you too would help ease him. It wasn't totally a lie, you'd love to try putting your past behind you. To get to know him as Bucky the guy Rogers had told you about.

"Bucky." He stated as he put a hand out to yours.

"Y/n." You smiled back as you shook his hand.

Bucky and Sam broke off from you as you took to sanding and painting. You could hear them talk about Karli in hushed tones. While it broke you to think about them going against her again, you knew you couldn't get involved again.

Then Bucky mentioned Zemo. So he was still alive and in prison from the sounds of things. It comforted you somewhat, to know he was okay. If he was there he likely wanted it that way. Not like seeing him again could really do you any good. Getting conformation about his manipulation was most you'd gain.

Bucky headed back with you and Sam to sleep for the night when the light got low. You'd packed your bags that morning before heading out to the boat and were in the process of sneaking out. With everything you'd felt overwhelmed and need to take a step away. You stopped in your tracks when you spotted Sam's silhouette in the shadows of the kitchen.

"You mind getting the light?" He said. You flicked the switch and Sam stood leaning against the counter arms crossed over his chest. "You were just gonna leave without saying good bye to the boys?"

"I can't stay Sam...I can't help you with Karli." You started.

"I'm not saying you gotta stay, you don't even gotta help... just don't leave for good this time." Sam said.

"I... I'm sorry I never told you everything." You stumbled over your words, letting your bag drop as you entered the room. You trusted Sam and even when you thought he'd betrayed you, it'd been you that was wrong.

"Never really told us anything." Bucky's voice cut through. You jumped as he rounded the corner behind you, walking past with a tight smile. "Sorry." he said giving you a tight smile.

"I...I don't know how to talk about this. I was... HYDRA... things are still so hard for me. I want to make friends and I want to help you guys but it all still hurts so much. It's so hard to be around people." You didn't know when you started crying, just felt the first tear fall and then couldn't stop the rest.

"We're here Y/n, you can talk to us." Sam assured.

"Maybe something little, something I'd been thinking about. Why'd you stay in Sokovia." Bucky started as Sam shot him a frown. You turned to him. He was scrutinizing again but you knew why he'd asked.

"When you brought me there before, when the soldier did. I liked it, despite everything. The smells were nice, the city was beautiful. When I crawled out of that mountain, I thought it would be the last place they'd check. Plus I already learned some of the language." You explained, trying to laugh at the end but it sounded choked.

"And when Ultron attacked?" Sam continued for you. "Why'd didn't you let them help you?"

"They were the Avengers, I was a HYDRA experiment. I thought if I was found I'd end up in a cell again. Wasn't wrong about that was I?" You grimaced and Sam mirrored your expression. Like he too was remembering the compound they'd taken you to. The sobs intensified, you felt your throat constricting tighter. "I can't..." You strained.

"It's okay Y/n, you don't have to tell us everything now. Just know you can talk about it, if you want." Sam began as he crossed to you. He reached for you and you flung yourself against his chest, gripping him in a tight hug. He held you there, rubbing your back as he spoke. "Sharon's got something set up for you, your always welcome back. Just pass on the number once you've settled."

He pulled back and you laughed at the mess on his shirt. "Ruined that." You laughed. Bucky joining you giving your shoulder a light squeeze.

"Ah not the worst fluid you've spilled on him... Wait no that came out wrong. The...the blood" Bucky hid behind his hand. Sam and you both laughing at him.

You stayed until the morning, thanking Sarah properly for having you and saying good-bye to her boys. AJ insisted you return soon and you pinkie promised.

"Don't you break that now." Sam warned grinning.

"What you think AJ's gonna break my pinkie?" You smirked.

"Oh he might, got a good throwing arm that one." Bucky laughed as he went to chase him off.

You'd never been great with good byes but this seemed easier. It was a see you soon after all. So with that you left again, heart feeling lighter than it had in years.

Sharon's return to the USA meant she had to hide her slightly less than legal help. Still the flat was bigger than you'd ever had and the admittedly humorous alias was more than you could have ever asked for.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oeznik's assistance came quick, a few weeks back he might not have wanted to be free again. Hell when Bucky held the gun to his head he'd been ready to die. Though as soon as Zemo was back in that cell again he felt his mind shift to you.

Where would you be? Sam would never leave you with John and as far as he'd heard your escape was part of what had ended up disgracing their new captain america. Still he couldn't help but imagine you in the sun traveling the world. Taking in art at museums was his favourite fantasy, he'd imagine you bright and dazzled just like in Madripoor. Then feeling of your finger tips on his forehead would burn in his mind. Had that been the first time you'd touched his skin?

Now he was free again he hesitated. He could live the remaining years in his homes, traveling and reading. Only now he couldn't imagine doing so without at least seeing you again. Maybe you'd figured out he'd played you somewhat. Maybe you'd not want to see him again.

"You know..." Oeznik approached from his side handing him his phone. "I hear the British Museum is doing a final showcase." Zemo smiled to him as he left him in. On the screen was the add for the event, he went to close the app before the picture changed.

He'd tapped the screen just enough to scroll image and his eyes were widened. There on the street, smiling on the phone was you. Still with the somewhat disheveled look you'd sported before but with a new edition. You were still wearing his shirt.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You'd only been to a few places last time you'd been in London. Never anything touristy so you were quiet enjoying your time in the Museum. It'd be the last time a lot of these things were going to be shown here. Next time you'd have to visit the country they belonged too.

By request of your rather strange neighbour you were checking out the Egyptian exhibits today. He'd offered to come as he had a fair bit of knowledge on the subject but you'd declined. He was nice sure but his ever shifting accent put you off somewhat. That and you could only imagine doing this with one person.

It was there you'd felt the strange sensation crawl up your spine. You were being watched and the fright set your hair on ends. Has someone come for you? SWORD knew John had had you, so maybe they'd been tracking you? You remained composed as you shifted down the hall slowly. Keeping your eyes on the attractions as you made your way to more sparse areas.

The crowd thinned giving you a better opportunity to seek out your tail. A man, average build and height but that was all you could tell from the distance. You rounded a corner dotting into the arch leading to the toilets. You flipped the burner open preparing to alert Sam or Bucky.

The man passed but paused looking into the empty room. You moved to leave sneak behind him but paused. The familiar figure turned slightly and you stepped fully out from your hiding spot.

"Helmut?" You asked. He dropped his head and chuckled before turning to face you.

"Hello leibling." Zemo smiled broadly shifting on his feet. You felt your heart skip a beat as you stared up into deep brown eyes. He looked tired and soft, dressed in plain casual clothes with his chestnut hair tousled.

"Bucky said..." You began finding your voice catching as your eyes drank him in.

"Ah yes, free again. I'm so pleased to see you are too. I worried what might have happened with Walker." Helmut said. His eyes glanced behind you as a tour group entered the room.

You realized how awkward it looked standing so far apart to talk and made your way towards him. Helmut stiffened a fraction before you smiled gently to him and gestured to the art as you walked.

"Well had to take that shield to the face again but Sam and Bucky came back for me. Got me set up here." You explained as he followed close after you. Your nerves seemed to react to his proximity setting you on edge rather than the comfort they'd brought before.

You risked a glance to Zemo stilling as you caught his darkened expression. He quickly softened as your eyes met but you wondered what had riled him up.

"I wanted to apologize for that. I would have come for you but I knew Sam wouldn't leave you. I won't lie I did intend to drive you two apart before." Helmut said. His eyes had drifted from you and you got the sense he was actually being genuine.

"Well, like I said they came back for me. Oddly I have to say I've been doing a lot better since that trip." You admitted. Zemo's eye darted back to you surprised by your comment.

"Been working on being more open with people I care about." You preened. "Which does bring me to something I would like you to clear up."

"Oh?" Zemo asked.

"You admit you'd manipulated us but was it all that?" You asked, turning to face him. The room was quiet again as the group from before left. You were alone again and with far less space between you both. His eyes were set on yours with a soft intensity you were unfamiliar with.

"I came to find you for two reasons. Firstly to ensure my departure hadn't lead to complications for yourself." Zemo whispered as he stepped in closer. A buzz ran through your veins, something like adrenaline but that bubbled an excitement in you.

"Secondly because I greatly enjoyed our time together." He smiled down at you. The grin split your face immediately and Zemo tucked his chin in as he chuckled.

"I'm glad that pleases you, care for some company?" Zemo grinned offering you his arm. You took it as the butterflies seemed to burst from your stomach and fluttered up into your head.

"Yes, danke" You giggled.

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You glittered. Bright, warm, charming, somehow more you than he'd ever seen before. Zemo had been stunned from the moment he saw you in person again. You were somehow lighter than before, free in a way you'd never been.

It sent a warmth flooding through him that made him feel like a blushing teenager. It took everything not to stumble over his words as he chatted about the art exhibits.

Helmut felt the familiar tug of your body as you shifted closer to him. It was getting busy and he could tell his time was up. Still he didn't wish to part ways just yet.

"If it's not to bold, I'd like to see you again. Tomorrow?" Zemo asked as he led you to a taxi rank.

"Ahh tomorrow's not going to work." You trailed off. Zemo felt stung by the rejection but endeavored to be the gentleman. You owed him nothing of course but his heart tugged him to you. Still he gently removed his arm from your own, not wishing to cause you discomfort.

"Ah, my apologies..." He began but stopped when you'd suddenly gripped his arm.

"No! Uh..." You fumbled pulling your hands back. "I'm headed to the US tomorrow to visit Sam, he's got some BBQ thing and I promised..."

"Well you don't supposed you'd be allowed a plus one." Zemo chuckled. Your shoulders relaxed again and you laughed with him before retaking his arm in your own.

"Not entirely sure how welcome you'd be." You said.

Zemo smirked at you. "Perhaps not, well how about I meet you back here when you return. I would love to show you this lovely restaurant."

"It's a date!" You laughed before stilling again. Zemo let his hand rest on your arm stroking his thumb against you.

"Perfect." He purred. You looked so cute blushing in front of him but you met his eyes again. He went to remove his arm again to hail a taxi but your grip tightened. Helmut struggled to keep his gaze locked on your own on briefly glancing down to your lips.

"I...you could... If your not busy that is." You stuttered before taking a breath and settling yourself. "Would you like to come to mine."

Helmut was stunned by the offer but recovered before you'd notice.

"Of course." He agreed grinning from ear to ear. Excitement for the future bubbled through him for the first time in years. Oh he was smitten.

[creative-crybaby]

Behind the Curtain

PAIRING: timeskip!Semi Eita x femdom!reader

GENRE: smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: mommy kink, feminization (kinda sorta), nipple play, hand job, creampie, semi-public sex, light degradation, exhibitionism, mention of a threesome, use of sex toys (vibrator + mention of dildos), mirror sex (kinda sorta), marking, edging, dacryphilia, humiliation kink if you squint

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

SUMMARY: You found your boyfriend the skirt that just might save his wardrobe. All characters are 18+

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

It’s perfect, you think as your eyes scan over the piece once more. A simple pleated skirt: black with a lavender and baby pink plaid pattern to contrast the darkness. Small belt hoops hold a chain, letting it dangle to the side. The last one with that colour palette and design on the rack, you notice, and to find the size to be more or less accurate is just the cherry on top.

It’s perfect, but not for you.

“Eita,” you call out as your head faces away from the article of clothing. Your boyfriend stands only a couple of aisles away, holding a purple button-up with a green leopard pattern. You try not to cringe from the sight, instead motioning him over. “I found something.”

The ash-blonde hangs the shirt back onto the rack–thank God–before returning to you with a curious smile. 

Once he’s at your side, you hold the skirt up for him to see. Semi takes a few seconds to admire it before offering you a nod.

“It’s cute,” he approves. “Wanna go try it on?”

The corners of your lips twitch upwards as you shake your head no. “It’s not for me.”

He quirks a brow, tilting his head as he awaits your explanation. You don’t provide one, but the glint in your eye, plus your shit-eating grin, eventually tell him your idea. He deadpans. “Absolutely not.”

“Boooo!” You drawl, causing a few other customers to turn to you two. Your boyfriend silently apologizes to them with a wave of his hand before facing you sternly. Not that it makes you falter. “We’re here to give your wardrobe an upgrade, Mr. Discount Jojo. We can start by getting you something that won’t make anyone’s eyes bleed.”

His facial features twist into an offended expression. “My outfits are not that bad! Besides, why that of all things?”

Semi points an accusing finger at the skirt. Unamused by his attitude, you step closer to him as your lids droop.

“What?” You sneer challengingly. “You too much of a man to wear this? Think this is some kind of personal attack?” When he doesn’t offer a response, your gaze trails down to your purse. When your eyes return to your boyfriend, your hand takes its time sliding into your bag, soon finding the small device you were looking for. “‘Cause I know this is not the most humiliating deed you’ve done, Ei-ta.”

The musician’s eyes widen as a bolt of electricity shoots up his body, and he has to bite down hard on his lip to muffle the moan about to burst out. You smile in satisfaction as his cheeks grow pink and his tall frame hunches over, the clothes hooked over his forearm close to sliding off.

“So,” you hum, feigning innocence, “wanna go give this a try?”

You’re given a muffled groan and hesitant nod from his spot beneath you. Giggling, you lower the setting before leading the way to the changerooms, your boyfriend avoiding the employee’s eyes as she takes your clothes and brings you to an empty spot. As soon as she disappears behind the corner, you slap the skirt onto Semi’s chest before lightly pushing him into the stall.

He’s probably taking his time in there, you figure. Not that it bothers you. Semi doesn’t have to get the skirt if he doesn’t want to, though you’d still like to see him in it.

And when the curtain opens, you’re so glad he did. Your eyes catch the piece before the rest of him, and they refuse to look elsewhere. Despite no longer playing volleyball, your boyfriend is still fit, though lean enough that the skirt perfectly compliments his long legs. Most importantly, it also teases viewers with an appropriate amount of his thighs, splotches of burgundy and indigo decorating the skin from previous nights of marking him. 

Dare you say you want to add more.

Your feet carry you into the changeroom with him before your brain fully processes the actions. Yanking the curtain behind you for privacy, you don’t stop admiring Semi’s frame as his back presses against the wall. You catch his throat bob as he waits for your next move, though instead of pouncing on him as he expected, you lay a hand on his outer thigh.  

“So,” you tilt your head, “What do you think?”

The ash-blonde needs several seconds to steady his breathing before he can force himself to look you in the eye. “Not bad, I guess.”

You hum in acknowledgment, your hand gliding up his leg and under the skirt, making him shiver. You don’t stop until you feel the material of his briefs, digging your finger under the outline. Your boyfriend’s thigh flexes under your touch; you force down the pride about to erupt from your chest. 

“Take these off for me, won’t you?” You purr. Semi follows your command wordlessly, the skirt barely covering everything between his legs. An observation you both make but don’t voice. Your eyes flicker to the little bench attached to the wall. “Sit.”

And he does, lightly trembling once the frigid wood makes contact with his skin. You slide your purse’s strap from around your shoulder as you settle yourself onto your knees in front of the musician. He watches you nervously as you separate his legs before bunching the skirt up his hips. His cock is beginning its ascent to become fully hard, but he can’t seem to look at it. Instead, his eyes follow your hand as it digs into your bag and pulls out a familiar oval-shaped device.

“In here?” The words spill from his lips before he can stop them. You don’t scold him, though, just shift in your spot, making yourself comfortable as if he didn’t say anything. 

“Try to stay quiet for me, okay?” You finally look up at him, your tone casual, like you’re asking him to move over. “And don’t even think about cumming without my permission.”

Semi is ready this time, blocking his moan from passing his throat by digging his teeth into his bottom lip. You don’t set the vibrations up too high, but it’s still enough to gain a vocal reaction. It also doesn’t take long for his cock to stand fully erect, drops of precum already forming and dribbling out from the slit. You smile, leaning in to give his tip a kitten lick, earning you a quivering sigh from the ash-blonde.

“Please,” he whimpers, hips bucking. Warmth blooms in your cheeks at his pathetic tone, but you still pull back. With one hand on the remote and the other wrapped around his shaft, you get to work: toying around with the settings whenever you please while pumping him painfully slow, you have him turn into a puddle of desperation in a matter of seconds. “M-ommy, feels so good.”

“Oh,” you quirk a brow at the title, “now you like this? You think sweet words will make me go easy on you?”

The musician profusely shakes his head, though before he can defend himself, the sound of footsteps grows louder.

“Is everything all right in here?” It’s the employee from earlier, you recall. The vibrations and your strokes slow in speed as you give your boyfriend a knowing look. 

He coughs. “Yeah, thanks. Just trying stuff on.”

As the clueless lady offers him a few words, something about giving her a shout if he needed anything, you tighten your grip on his cock near his base. Semi hisses before cutting himself off, his heart ramming into his ribs as he waits to check if the employee heard anything. After several seconds of silence, he relaxes. Or, as much as he can, anyway.

“That lady,” you hum as you continue your ministrations, turning up the vibrations, “I think she was checking you out earlier.” You don’t appear bothered as you address your observation, though the former setter knows better than to assume you aren’t going anywhere with your words. “How do you think she’d react seeing you like this? All red and shaky and—” you glance up at his face, “crying like a little bitch?” The hand pumping his weeping cock halts its movements as you sit up to lean close to his face. You lick a stray tear from his cheek before moving to his ear, voice much lower. “Who knows? Maybe she’s into this stuff, too. Could’ve joined us if she wanted to.”

You don’t allow him to answer as you up the settings for the vibrations, the toy’s buzzing now audible to anyone willing to stay quiet for even a moment. The ash-blonde heaves for air at the increase of stimulation, the vibrator pushed deep enough inside him to prod at his prostate and have constellations consume his vision. 

He wants you to show him the galaxy.

Easier said than done, of course; Semi should know by now. If he finishes without your permission, things will only go downhill from there. Flexing his thighs as a distraction only does so much; it gets more challenging when you add more of your lovebites onto the area. With the vibrations swimming along his body and your teeth sinking into him, he feels the heat radiate from his face, melting all sense of reason. 

And when he thought things couldn’t get any harder (ha!), you take the hem of his shirt and bring it to his lips. Your boyfriend would’ve been grateful for the article of clothing muffling his sounds if he were clueless about the implication.

“Be a good boy and play with your nipples, yeah?” It comes out as a question; it’s anything but. The musician won’t disobey, though. With shaky hands, he tweaks at the sensitive buds, digging his teeth into his shirt to silence his mewls as his hips buck and abs flex. Almost nothing can stop the avalanche that’s about to crash down, and Semi wants nothing more than to let that catastrophe take over. 

Almost nothing, I said. 

His eyes jolt open when the vibrations simmer away, and your lips leave his skin. He whines louder than he intended, though it’s not like he can take it back. His release drowns into the unknown, and no amount of crying can save it from that abyss. Only you can rescue him from such empty insanity. 

But you’re not going to give him what he wants. Not now, at least. 

Your boyfriend’s considering standing up for himself; come up with a snarky response to how unfairly you treat him when he’s barely done anything wrong, if at all. His hand reaches for your face to get you to look him in the eye, but you catch his wrist before he can do so. 

“I didn’t say you could stop,” you state matter-of-factly, bringing his hand back to his chest before getting up. Lightly pushing him further onto the bench, you then hover yourself over his lap. The ash-blonde’s eyes widen as he watches you move your panties aside to reveal your drooling pussy. He’s careless when he lets a groan slip out from the sight, but it’s not like he can help himself. Especially not when you grab hold of his twitching cock and aim it at your entrance.

Having just the tip inside could’ve been enough to make Semi cum. It’s always the thought that comes to mind whenever you finally take him after all the excessive teasing. Then he dares to peer down, and his heart leaps into his throat. You’re still sinking onto his shaft, but the dark skirt bunched up to his waist and contrasting against his pale skin creates a deep swirl in his lower stomach. He didn’t understand the appeal nor your interest at first, but the detail makes for more than mere decoration. The skirt’s chain grazes against his thigh, a component he only notices due to its coolness while the rest of his body is in flames. The dizziness that follows once your hips meet his isn’t new, but the moment never dulls. If anything, it feels like his first time all over again. All he can do is hope he’ll last longer than before. 

“I was thinking about bringing one of our dildos with us just for this occasion,” you laugh dryly, twirling some of his hair around your index finger. “There wasn’t enough room in my purse, though. Even if it did, I figured we wouldn’t have enough time to clean up.” You sigh in disappointment, resting your head on his shoulder and acting like he isn’t about to combust. “I’m sure we can figure something out for next time.”

The implication alone is enough to make Semi’s cock twitch. Something you notice, of course, and you roll your hips teasingly. 

“Please,” he pants, fingers twitching to touch you. “Need t’cum. I’ll do anything.”

You hum as if you’re considering his words. Having been with you for so long, your boyfriend should know better by now. 

“Look in the mirror while I ride you,” you order, adjusting your position to place his hands on your hips and yours, on his shoulders. “You cum when I say you do.”

He doesn’t get to respond, not when you lift yourself until only his tip remains inside, then slam back down. The musician’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he chokes on a groan, your cunt hugging his shaft tightly. 

Once his vision returns, Semi forces himself to tilt his head to the side to get a better view of the mirror in front of him. It’s difficult keeping his eyes open when he’s overcome with bliss; having you milk him for all he’s worth, all the while making sure anyone outside the changeroom doesn’t move the curtain, is exhilarating. The ash-blonde would give himself credit for lasting as long as he did if he weren’t watching you bounce on his cock through the mirror. He’s afraid the view would be his downfall.

Then again, that tends to be his thought whenever you keep him on his toes. And when you bit down onto the junction of his neck, that concern pops into his head once more. 

Semi doesn’t mean to moan as girlishly as he does. But it happens, and he feels you squeeze him even tighter in response. This dance is going to be the death of him. It’s just a damn skirt. A reflection. A small room with three thin walls and a thick curtain—

“You’re gonna fill me up, yeah?” You breathe in his ear, giving his earlobe a nibble. “Make a mess of Mommy’s pussy?”

He digs his nails into your hips, whimpering. “Fuck, yes. Please, lemme cum. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—”

A smile creeps onto your face as he begs and hiccups and mewls. Ignoring the burning of your thighs, you pick up your pace bouncing on his weeping cock, and it doesn’t take long for your boyfriend to come undone. His face hides in the crook of your neck as he forces whatever cries that try to escape to stay in his throat. Strings of warmth attack your insides, enough to tip you over the edge as well. Having your death grip on him strengthens his release, his vision going white along with his thoughts.

Semi only remembers he’s in public once he’s calmed down. Despite the burning of his lungs, he holds his breath, waiting for someone to pull the curtain and expose them. It never happens, though; whether it’s because they’re extremely lucky or the poor witness is too embarrassed to do anything, the musician isn’t sure.

You don’t let him think too much into it, opting to press your lips against his sweetly. He melts into the kiss, sighing as you lighten the situation’s intensity.

The ash-blonde helps you dismount his lap, your legs trembling as you quickly move your panties back in place to keep his cum from leaking out.

In return, you remove the vibrator from his ass before assisting him in shimmying out of the skirt that started it all. It’s still in decent shape; a little crinkled, but it’s better than having stains. 

“So?” You quirk a brow, a little out of breath. “Thoughts on the skirt?”

Semi’s still putting on his skinny jeans when you ask him this. He pauses, his pride still trying to take the shots even after what happened not even a minute ago. “Looks good.”

Good enough for you. Grinning, you hastily help the musician clean up, startling him as you make it more challenging for him to put his belt on. 

“C’mon,” you boast, grabbing onto the skirt and your purse. “We’re getting this skirt and going home.”

The next thing you clutch is your boyfriend’s wrist, making him gasp. “What’s the rush? I still have other clothes to try on.”

You snort, tugging open the curtain. “Trying them on defeats the point of a wardrobe upgrade.” The ash-blonde gives you an offended look as you turn to him, holding up the skirt. “Besides,” the smile you wear makes him shiver, but your response lights a flame in the pit of his stomach, “I need to fuck you properly in it.”

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

[burningvelvet]

thinking about my favorite insane excerpts from john keats’ letters to fanny brawne and how he was buried with all the letters she wrote him…

“If we love we must not live as other men and women do [..] You must be mine to die upon the rack if I want you.”

“I am literally worn to death, which seems my only recourse.”

“You have absorb‘d me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.”

“my loveliest my darling! Good bye! I kiss you – O the torments!”

“Every hour I am more and more concentrated in you; every thing else tastes like chaff in my Mouth.”

“Do not call it folly, when I tell you I took your letter last night to bed with me.”

“I fear I am too prudent for a dying kind of Lover. Yet, there is a great difference between going off in warm blood like Romeo, and making one‘s exit like a frog in a frost.”

“I have been haunted with a sweet vision – I have seen you the whole time in your shepherdess dress. How my senses have ached at it! How my heart has been devoted to it! How my eyes have been full of Tears at it!”

“I will resent my heart having been made a football.”

“My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change? My love, will it?”

“When shall we pass a day alone? I have had a thousand kisses, for which with my whole soul I thank love – but if you should deny me the thousand and first – ‘t would put me to the proof how great a misery I could live through.”

“I wish you could infuse a little confidence of human nature into my heart. I cannot muster any—the world is too brutal for me—I am glad there is such a thing as the grave—I am sure I shall never have any rest till I get there.”

“I wish I was either in your arms full of faith or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.”

“My dearest Girl,

I have been a walk this morning with a book in my hand, but as usual I have been occupied with nothing but you: I wish I could say in an agreeable manner. I am tormented day and night.”

“You fear, sometimes, I do not love you so much as you wish? My dear Girl I love you ever and ever and without reserve. The more I have known you the more have I lov‘d. In every way – even my jealousies have been agonies of Love, in the hottest fit I ever had I would have died for you. I have vex‘d you too much. But for Love! Can I help it? You are always new. The last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.”

“I am living to day in yesterday: I was in a complete fascination all day. I feel myself at your mercy. Write me ever so few lines and tell you [for me] you will never for ever be less kind to me than yesterday – You dazzled me – There is nothing in the world so bright and delicate.”

“If I am the Theme, I will not be the Friend of idle Gossips. Good gods what a shame it is our Loves should be so put into the microscope of a Coterie.”

“People are revengful—do not mind them—do nothing but love me—if I knew that for certain life and health will in such event be a heaven, and death itself will be less painful. I long to believe in immortality. I shall never be able to bid you an entire farewell. If I am destined to be happy with you here—how short is the longest Life. I wish to believe in immortality—I wish to live with you for ever.”

“I shall kiss your name and mine where your Lips have been—Lips! why should a poor prisoner as I am talk about such things? Thank God, though I hold them the dearest pleasures in the universe, I have a consolation independent of them in the certainty of your affection.”

“Do not send any more of my Books home. I have a great pleasure in the thought of you looking on them.”

“Do not threat me even in jest. I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion – I have shudder‘d at it – I shudder no more – I could be martyr‘d for my Religion – Love is my religion – I could die for that – I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet – You have ravish‘d me away by a Power I cannot resist: and yet I could resist till I saw you; and even since I have seen you I have endeavoured often ―to reason against the reasons of my Love. I can do that no more – the pain would be too great – My Love is selfish – I cannot breathe without you.”

Sources: Project Gutenberg’s Letters of John Keats to Fanny Brawne (Reeves & Turner, 1878)