#finally finishing 2.1

[cloudshuffle]

today

[starcurtain]

2.1 Penacony Spoilers!

I know the scene after Ratio's "betrayal" can be read a lot of ways but I am shocked I haven't seen more people interpret it as Ratio being so worried about Aventurine that he couldn't stay away even though he was supposed to.

We know:

1) Ratio absolutely knew Aventurine's plan from start to finish, both his gamble to create "death" in the dream and with the three cornerstones. (Wish people would stop underselling Ratio in their analyses; "Three chips are enough" is a direct enough clue that, genius as he is, Ratio would never miss.)

2) In his own words, Ratio was acting according to Aventurine's instructions while in Dewlight Pavilion and with Sunday and felt that he did a good job not giving them away.

I think most people are on the same page up to there, but then I've seen a lot of people interpreting this scene after Aventurine leaves Sunday's mansion as Aventurine being genuinely angry at Ratio (possibly after having gaslit himself into thinking Ratio was actually betraying him).

But this doesn't make much sense to me because:

1) Ratio actually has nothing to gain by selling Aventurine out to Sunday. They're on the same side in this mission. Information about a Stelleron on Penacony wouldn't be news anyone with a brain like Ratio's and why would he need someone else's research on Stellerons when he already has ties to the Genius Society through Screwllum and Herta, as well as the Astral Express where the Trailblazer is actively housing a Stelleron?

2) One of Aventurine's most notable lines of dialogue is how it's perfectly fine and expected for "friends" to use each other and backstab. This is his default understanding of partners--why would he suddenly be mad about something he expected from the start?

3) If the betrayal wasn't already planned and was just a possibility based on Aventurine's understanding of Ratio, why would he ever have revealed there were "three chips" (aka three cornerstones) in play? If even the betrayal over Topaz's stone wasn't planned, just assumed, why would Aventurine reveal the existence of the third stone? He would gain nothing from doing so.

Instead, I think it makes a lot more sense to interpret Aventurine's frustration with Ratio in this later scene as annoyance over Ratio taking an "unnecessary" risk:

1) As far as Sunday knows, Ratio had just very seriously betrayed Aventurine, completely selling him out and essentially sending him to his execution.

2) In the scene afterward, Aventurine is out in public in the middle of Penacony where The Family's eyes are always watching, yet Ratio walks right up to him to check on him. Why would someone who just sold you out come up to you immediately afterward to check on your health?!

3) It's only natural that Aventurine would pump the brakes and go "Wow, didn't think you'd show yourself after you just betrayed me, remember?" Because that's the act they are supposed to be keeping up! They're still being monitored; it's not safe to break character!

But Ratio is a genius, right, so why would he break character here? From the standpoint of the ploy itself, revealing to the Family that he and Aventurine were still on the same side would only jeopardize the plan, not help it.

The logical explanation, then, is that Ratio went to Aventurine here because he felt like he had to.

He had to check in and make sure the situation was still under Aventurine's control.

(In fact, the entire exchange through the middle of this scene is Aventurine and Ratio confirming the rest of their plot in a veiled manner: Ratio brings up the plan and mentions what's concealed in the gift money bag, Aventurine confirms the cornerstone is good to go; Ratio asks what his next step will be; Aventurine says he's going to do the insane thing of handing out cash while looking pathetic [aka fishing for Sparkle]. Ratio essentially asks if he's crazy enough to take the final gamble with his own life, which Aventurine confirms, and then Ratio sets them up for the finale by gifting him the doctor's note.)

Ratio was willing to risk ruining their entire plan--something Aventurine does seem to be frustrated about at first--just to ensure Aventurine still felt all right about the situation.

He needed to deliver his note demanding Aventurine stay alive.

He needed to tell Aventurine to come to him if the situation got too painful to bear.

In short, Ratio was worried enough that he could not stay away even though, for the sake of their plot, it would have made significantly more sense for him not to appear. The gain of breaking character was worth more to him than the risk of being caught.

You honestly don't even have to take this in a shipping context. The real point here is that Ratio is an incredibly good person who wasn't okay with Aventurine's self-sacrificial plan and who felt morally compelled to check on a person in pain. He's a healer through and through, and ignoring Aventurine in this condition--ignoring someone who was taking so much risk on themselves--simply wasn't possible for him, no matter the danger it posed to the plan.

But for those who do ship Ratio and Aventurine... I hope more people will come to see this scene as another example of Ratio's genuine concern for his mission partner! He did not have to appear here at all; it would have made much more sense for him to leave Aventurine to his own devices to uphold the illusion of their "betrayal." He showed up in this scene--very likely against Aventurine's expectations--because he was concerned for Aventurine's situation and wanted to ensure Aventurine knew he could fall back on Ratio's support at any time if the plan went awry.

tl;dr: I wish people would stop interpreting this scene as the aftermath of a betrayal. Aventurine wasn't ticked off with Ratio in this scene because he felt like he'd genuinely been backstabbed; he was ticked off because Ratio was literally breaking their pre-established "betrayer" character just to be fussy over Aventurine's safety and well-being. (Okay, and to double check on the plan, but let's be real, the first part was definitely more important. 👌)

[etherealyoungk]

new beginnings - jeon wonwoo

summary: in which a certain someone starts getting extra clingy to you, leading you to find out you're pregnant.

pairing: husband!wonwoo x fem!reader

themes: established relationship, terms of endearment, pregnancy, fluffy, comfort

warnings: reader is pregnant, mentions of nausea, throwing up, anxiety, vague mentions of intimate relations, cats

wordcount: 2.1 k

a/n: just a random idea i had and thought might be cute

you come home a bit later than usual, the smell of something delicious wafting in the air, welcoming you as you step inside your cozy home. you walk in and spot wonwoo in the kitchen, busy stirring something in a pot as you discard your bag on the couch, spotting oreo, wonwoo's cat curled up on the other end in a peaceful slumber.

you slowly make your way towards wonwoo. "hey", you say, as you stand next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. "hi love", he responds immediatily as he presses a soft kiss to your temple as you nod. "long day?", he asks, taking in your tired expression as you nod your head.

"you're home early", you point out, as you hook your arm around his, watching him stir the pot of soup carefully so that the ingredients wouldn't stick to the bottom and burn.

"yeah, i wanted to surprise you", he says, looking at you. you smile at his words and he smiles back at you. you let go of his arm and busy yourself with setting up the table. you and wonwoo had sweet love story and were now living a happy married life, and you couldn't ask for anyone else to spend it with. wonwoo was just your person and you were his.

but wonwoo's cat on the other hand was another story. you could say that she didn't really have a thing for you. oreo had never bonded with you, and you were only allowed to give her the occasional pet before she'd walk off, uninterested in you. orea never got cuddly with you like she did with wonwoo. you were bummed at first but you decided that maybe she'd grow into you later it. but it looked like you were just going to be a side character to her.

wonwoo asks you about your day as you both eat, but he's also acutely aware of how little food you've served yourself and how you've barely touched the soup he made. "not hungry?", he prompts after a while. "i am, i'm just a little tired", you tell, feeling a bit bad because wonwoo had made your favorite soup and you barely felt like eating it. you force yourself to have at least a few spoonfuls of the spoon and finish up your rice.

it's two am and you wake up feeling nauseous so you sit up, hoping that would ease the feeling but it didn't. it was like wonwoo was so in tune with you that he could always tell when you're awake and you heard him stir beside you. "are you okay love?", he asks, his voice laced with sleep.

"just a little nauseous", you tell softly, feeling umcomfortable.

"should i make you some peppermint tea?", he asks, now sitting up beside you. he doesn't wait for your answer as he heads to the kitchen to make it for you regardless. he comes up and places the steaming mug of peppermint tea on your bedside table, as he sits down next to you. his hand finds yours as he laces his fingers in your hand, looking at you, worried. after a few sips of the tea, you feel slightly better and you're now cuddled in wonwoo's arms as you lay your head on his chest, his hands holding you safe from the world.

you feel the bed dip again as oreo, wonwoo's cat jumps on the bed, walking towards you both. you look at her, ready for her to go towards wonwoo but instead, she comes up to you and settles next to you. "baby are you seeing this", you tell, shocked. "looks like she's finally warming up to you", he jokes and it was like oreo understood and she meows as she looks at you before curling up beside you.

you fall asleep only to wake up an hour late as you rush into the bathroom and throw up, feeling horrible and absolutely terrible. you feel wonwoo's hand on your back a few moments later as he rubs it gently to help you. he then helps you up and you clean yourself up before he helps you back in bed.

that whole week, you battle with nausea, throwing up either in the morning or night, and feeling tired and fatigued all of a sudden. you try to brush it off, blaming it on the stress or just the flu, but wonwoo insists on going to the doctor to figure out what is going on.

you take a sick leave the next day and you're sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone when oreo comes up to you again, sitting on your stomach, giving you a little meow as she closes her eyes and goes into her meditation. you smile, feeling like you were being blessed by her presence lately. she'd started to get cuddly with you the past week and you were surprised but happy because otherwise you were going to think she was going to hate you forever.

you're aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you come across a video of a cat sitting on a lady, much like how oreo was sitting on you and as the video goes on, the lady explains how she found out she was pregnant because her cat started to get extra cuddly with her. your brain pauses and you glance at oreo, who's in a peaceful slumber on your stomach. you quickly open google, typing in if cats can tell if a person is pregnant and you gulp as you read articles and information that shows up and things slowly start adding up in your mind. this would explain all the nausea, the weird mood swings you've been having and the fatigue you've been experiencing the past two weeks. oh my god.

you gently move oreo off you, apologising to her as you grab a coat and slip on your shoes, heading to the nearest pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. you buy two to give yourself the benefit of the doubt and now you're in your bathroom as you wait for the results of pregnancy tests. you stand a few steps back, nervous to see the results.

sure, you and wonwoo had talked about having kids of your own and it was something you both did want. you both had also taken care and been careful whenever you were intimate with each other. but now as you stand in the bathroom all alone, a feeling of dread engulfs you and pools in your stomach. you move towards the countertop and look at yourself in the mirror. it was going to be okay you thought ou close your eyes and take a deep breath and you finally find the courage to look down at the pregnancy tests laid out in front of you. you blink down as you see two lines on them bioth and let out a shaky breath as you try to ground yourself.

you didn't tell wonwoo that evening, still trying to take everything in but mostly because you didn't know how to. you were unsure and scared. but when he comes home tonight, you can't seem to hold onto this secret anymore as it seems to be eating you alive. when he comes home later that evening, you're quick to greet him as he shrugs off his blazer, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. you give him a kiss as you ask him about his day. he walks into the bedroom to change and you follow him. "what's going on in that pretty little mind of yours", he asks as he loosens his tie and takes off his watch. "how do you know something is going on?", you ask. "because you only follow me around when you have something you want to get off your chest", he tells, coming towards you. you find it sweet that he's picked up on his piece of information and observed, he knew you too well.

"okay fine, i do have something to tell you", you say finally as you move closer to wonwoo. you look up at him and he patiently waits for you to speak. but as you're looking at him and trying to find the right words and how to get them out, you find yourself getting overwhelmed with emotion all of a sudden and you're tearing up. your gaze flickers to the side of the room and down before you look back up but wonwoo is keen to pick up on his.

"what's wrong sweetheart?", he asks as you try with all your might to hold the tears in, trying to blink back your tears, but you can't and they flow down your cheeks and before you know it you're crying. wonwoo pulls you into his arms, his hand running up and down your back softly in an attempt to soothe you. "did something happen?", he asks, worried as his gaze softens.

you sniffle as you look at him, still in his arms. "no- i-i- don't know why i'm crying god i feel like an idiot", you tell as wonwoo cups your face, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb. "you're not", he assures you and he holds your gaze as he looks at you sweetly, not forcing you to say anything.

he gently moves you to the bedside and sits you down looking at you deeply, a hit of worry laced in his gaze. you'd been off this entire week and he was worried.

"are you okay?", he asks again, gently as he looks at you, his hand intertwined in yours.

"i-im pregnant", you finally tell softly and in the quiet room it was like your words echoed in the air. wonwoo blinks at you and you can see the wave of emotion he goes through.

"i took a pregnancy test, two in fact and they both came back positive", you add, looking at wonwoo to see his reaction.

"you're pregnant", he repeats like he was testing how the words would sound on his lips. "we're pregnant", he says again and you nod.

"i'm pregnant", you tell, tearing up again. "we're pregnant", you say again.

you find yourself tearing up again and wonwoo cups your cheek. "but what if i'm not ready, i'm scared", you add softly and wonwoo is quick to embrace you in another hug.

"i think, no i know that you're going to be a great mother love", he tells. "and remember, you're not alone in this, i'm right here and i'll be here with you every step of the way", he adds as he hugs you tighter.

you pull away, looking at him and you smile. "i love you", you say. " i love you more", he says, making you smile.

"i can't believe we're going to be parents", he says in a soft excitement as he kisses your forehead.

"you know, oreo was the first one to know", you say and he furrows his brows in confusion.

"what do you mean?", he asks, his hands resting on waist. "that's why she's been so clingy and cuddly to me these last two weeks. she knew i was pregnant, cats can sense it", you explain and his interest is piqued by this piece of information. "should we make a bet on if oreo's going to befriend our kid or not", he says and you snort, chuckling at his suggestion. god how you loved him and his silly antics. "i'm gonna bet she will befriend him, she already has technically", you add before leaning in wonwoo's chest again.

-bonus scene-

you're laying on the couch, now six months along your pregnancy and your bump is growing healthily. wonwoo's been so sweet and supportive throughout it all, from helping you when you were puking your guts out from morning sickness to getting you all your pregnancy cravings even if they were weird.

you hear the door open, wonwoo walking in with takeaway from your favourite cafe because you were craving a red velvet cake. he triumphantly lifts the bag as he walks in, putting it down on the table as he sees oreo perched on your belly.

"i think out kid is going to be a cat lover", wonwoo says. "imagine if they're not", you add as wonwoo hands you the cake box and you take it, the sweet smell already filling the air. you take a bit and sigh, content and offer wonwoo a bite.

just then you feel the baby kick and oreo looks alert, wondering where the little movement came from as she looks around and looks at you with a questioning look. "baby, did you see that?", you ask. the baby kicks again and oreo looks around again and glances at your belly before meowing at you and you chuckle. "aww she felt the kick", you tell. wonwoo smiles as he looks at you, his heart overflowing with love as he thinks about how lucky he is and how grateful he is

taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @blue-jisungs @wootify @idubiluv @n4mj00nvq @joshuaahong @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii drop an ask if you want to be added to my permanant taglist!

[rxzennia]

sex with aventurine of strategems

✎𓂃 top aven (bottom aven will eventually be served too dw except im hoping to make that emotional so it’ll take a bit hehe), i finished 2.1 yesterday and i’m not fine… angst fic/ character deep dive coming soon (idk when tbh bcs im busy); in the meantime, thirsting for foul legacy: star rail edition boss aven

aventurine in this form is so much bigger than you, it’s so easy for him to just pick you up and manhandle you like you’re nothing. and he loves doing that, picking you up effortlessly and tossing you onto the bed as you spread your legs for him.

his fingers are way, way longer and girthier

loves shoving them up your hole because you squeeze around them so sweetly

also loves hearing that squelch when he pushes three fingers deep into you

oh, you want to touch yourself? nu-uh, he’ll keep your hands above your head

it’s so easy for him restrain you, you’re so much smaller compared to him

and he will tease you to high hell with his fingers

he loves seeing the way you move your hips, trying to chase his touch

but no, darling, he decides what you get, how much you get, and when you get it

your cute whimpers won’t change his mind, even if he loves hearing them

or eating them up as he shoves his tongue deep into your mouth

loves having you moan into his kisses

he won’t stop using his fingers until you’ve wet the bed enough

like, dripping, squirting, anything, until you’ve soaked through the sheets into the mattress

he’s overstimulating you already and he hasn’t gotten to actually fucking you yet

he wants you a mess under him

he wants you to get addicted to his touch

he wants you to not be able to function without him

those are thoughts he has on a regular basis, but they’re amplified so much more when he’s in his boss form

he wants to “preserve” you, so that you’ll never be harmed, or taken away from him…

“please, please, please,” you cry, writhing and squirming desperately as you cum for the umpteenth time, “just, just fuck me already, please,” you push against his hand that has long since been drenched in your arousal, “please, your fingers aren’t enough, hngh…”

“not yet, darling,” aventurine coos in his distorted voice, “not yet. let me play with you, ‘kay?”

he’ll pull his fingers out very, very slowly and watch your expression twist into one of pure agony

you’re arching your back and trying to chase his fingers

he presses your hips back onto the bed, holding you still as he enjoys the sight of your gaping hole

and how you’re completely naked under him, while he’s still fully clothed

he loves the power trip he feels at that moment

he makes sure you can see all the slick on his fingers, and his tongue licks them clean

then he slowly traces your body with his claws, from your cheek all the way down to your inner thighs

if you’re still conscious enough to look, you’ll see the monstrous tent straining against his pants

(if whatever he’s wearing are even pants to begin with)

your hole twitch as you feel yourself getting hungrier and hungrier for him

and he sees that, of course he does

instead of giving you what you want, he’ll keep touching your body

avoiding your hole, though

if you cry, he might change his mind and give you what you want

although chances are he’ll say something like “you’re so hot when you cry” instead of finally gracing you with his cock

he will definitely taunt you and degrade you

“hmm? my darling can’t take it anymore?” he chuckles as his fingers circle your hole that has been clenching around nothing for the past few ten minutes, “look at you, so eager for me… so horny, so dirty…”

when aventurine finally frees his cock, you let out a soft, shaky breath when you realize how much bigger he is in his semi-emanator form. but you’re into that, you’re into everything that he is, anyway.

you try to touch him, obviously, seeing how hard and how much precum is already leaking

no. he won’t let you, not this time

he wants your hole, and only your hole

he grabs your hand and pushes it down

flips you around into doggy while he’s at it

he rubs his tip against you, grinding his hips into yours as he fucks your thighs

you can feel him on your entrance, but he just isn’t slipping in

no matter how much you wriggled around or tried to line him up

“agh, shit, please,” you start, the heat in your stomach slowly becoming unbearable as he teases you with his thick cock, “please, put it in, put it in?”

he does not put it in

until you actually burst out in tears of frustration and pulled your legs apart for him

“f-fuck me already…!” you whine, and he can see how ready you are for him, “please, please, i want you so bad, please, fuck me…”

he loves how pathetic you get when you’re all needy, it feels like you’re really addicted to him

he takes his time enjoying the sight

your hole is so, so, so slick, and he can see your every twitch and spasm

he can’t hold back anymore, you’re just too tempting

“just what i wanted to hear.” he finally grabs you by your hips and slowly pushes his way in

it’s a very, very tight fit even if he’s stretched you with his fingers

he stays still for a bit to let you adjust as he moans breathlessly into your ears

does not help you stay still at all

“mmh,” you sigh and try to move, but damn, it’s such a stretch that it burns a little. still, you’re not going to give up; you’ve been waiting for this for the entire night already, if you wait any more you might lose your mind. “hnngh, you’re so big!” you push against him, fucking yourself on his cock, “ah, ahh, you’re so deep…”

your whimpers are so loud, so shameless! aventurine shudders at the sight of you, on all fours, drooling and crying for him.

his claws dig into your skin as he snaps his hips into yours

you yelp at every movement he makes

you feel like you’re breaking whenever he hits your sensitive spots

which, let’s be honest, is practically wherever he touches

he’s fucking you into the mattress so good, but his hands are also roaming all over your twitching body

which means you get scratches everywhere

he changes positions so that you’re sitting on him, back to his chest

because this way he can rest his head on your shoulders as he abuse your hole

his mask is poking at your shoulder, but he’s trying his best to rest his chin on you instead of his mask

cut him some slack, he’s focused on fucking you silly

he’s looking at you the whole time he’s pounding into you

taking in how your eyes roll back, how your back arches and your toes curl

how, slowly, he’s taking away all your ability to reason and replacing it with his cock

he will lick up your drool and tears

but just his pounding is not enough – you need more stimulation!

you try to touch yourself because he just doesn’t want to touch you the way you want

he will smack your hands away

or interlock his fingers with yours so that you can’t touch yourself

“no touching,” aventurine groans loudly as he slams into you, “i want you to come only on my cock,” he hisses, “only from how good i’m fucking you, hmm?”

though, he sees your teary eyes and your half-open mouth, about to beg.

“aww, can’t take it? then, how about this…” he chuckles darkly, “let’s make a bet, shall we?”

[jiejies-corner-store]

THE AVENTURINE FIC 😭😭 OH GOSH IM CRYING 😭😭

i’m so sorry, anon! here this should make it up 😭😭 the devil knows you're dead

pairing. aventurine x reader

tags/tw: fem!reader, references to a complicated childbirth, mother!reader, father!aventurine, spoilers to aventurine's real name, spoilers in reference to 2.1 trailblaze questline, aventurine’s nihilism and depression, references to death, hurt/comfort, ooc aventurine probably, i make shit up at the end because i want a happy ending—bite me.

sfw

a/n: ouchie. i finished 2.1 and it hurt. it hurt a lot. the ost for the “all the sad tales” is genuinely so beautiful. the trumpet just feels so melancholy yet hopeful it just goes so perfectly with aventurine’s story. but i need something that feels good now. ABSOLUTELY NOT PROOF-READ pt. 1

“As long as you are alive, the blood of the Avgin will never run dry.”

It was cold. Cold and warm. Almost feverish feeling. The type of feeling you’d get when you were freezing but your skin was hot to the touch. There was this frustrating beeping noise somewhere off in the distance that you just couldn’t tune out, finally you opened your eyes to see a sea of darkness, and seemingly at an unreachable horizon, a large circle of white light that looked like a gate.

“You’re not dead, if that’s what you’re wondering,” a voice came from beside you. How you didn’t realize there was a whole person standing next to you, you had no clue.

“Well, that’s not originally what I was going for, but now I’m a bit worried I might be,” you laughed, nervous, but curious all the same. This… person you couldn’t quite make out an exact face, or even a body for that matter, but ther was this distinct feeling that it was in fact a person. Like your instinct knew, but your brain couldn’t quite fill in the details.

“This is a place beyond mortal comprehension, if I tried to explain it to you, you would only be more confused. Walk with me,” the entity said, and without even willing your body to do so, you followed. Ripples emanated from each step as you followed and soon the inky void around you melted into an unfamiliar planet.

The sky was a deep purple, streaked with red that looked like lighting that crackled along the sky. Instead of the fluid, black ground, sand now shifted as you moved foward. Inside a small hut made of rock, you saw a woman cradling a swaddled child.

“Such a lucky child, such a blessed child… Just like your name. A gift from THEM to Avgin… my boy…”

You turned to the figure beside you and hesitantly asked, “Where are we?”

“A land of rock, but not water, lightning, but not rain, blood, but not tears,” the entity responded cryptically, which only caused a crease in your brow. You went closer to the mother in the hut and sat next to her. She whispered a blessing onto her child, but none of the words made sense to your ears. Similar to the entity, it’s like your brain scrambled them from your understanding.

The mother cried. You tried to wrap your arms around her to comfort her but only phased through her like a ghost. The baby too began to cry.

Then, the scene changed again, suddenly it was a cell with iron bars. A blond young man sat next to you. The blond’s gaze was downturned, but you could recognize that voice anywhere.

“—Thirty tanba… that’s all my life is worth.”

“That’s not…” you said, but realized it was all in vain. You tried again to take Kakavasha’s hands into your own. You wantd to take the cuffs off his wrists and cradle where the skin was rubbed raw.

“It's all or nothing…”

“Kakav—agh!”

Your future never existed You█ future never existed You█ future ne█er existed You█ fut███ ne█er existed You█ fut███ ne█er ████ted You█ fut███ █e█er ████ted Yo██ ██████ █e█er ████ted

Your mind felt clouded, a searing headache, followed by an inability to even pin down a coherent thought. The scene shifted once more.

“What’s going on!” you shouted at the figure that stood only silently next to you, crippled on the ground, clutching at your head, fingers pressing in to try to find the spot that would alleviate this awful pressure.

When your senses were no longer blinded by pain, you were back to that inky void you started in, but this time you weren’t alone. Not far away, maybe twenty feet or so, was your Kakavasha, and a woman you didn’t recognize.

“Why are we born into this world if it's just to die?”

You stumbled to your feet to try to run to him, but with each step closer he only got further away. He walked towards that gate of light. In your head, you heart was pounding faster and faster. You failed to catch up to him. He only got further and further away until he disappeared like fireflies dispersing into the night, “Kakavasha! No—!”

Utterly devastated, you sunk back onto your knees. You didn’t know why but you had this distinct feeling of loss. Tears rolled from your eyes freely. He… he wasn’t gone surely? The entity’s presence reappeared next to you.

“Why did you show me all of this,” you asked, not sure if you actually wanted an answer.

“Because you need to go back,” the entity answered and your jaw locked, gritting your teeth so hard they hurt.

You screamed into the void, “You’re the one who brought me here!”

“I never call anyone to me… you mortals believe that it is US that determine when your time to go is… but in truth it is your own doing, whether it is your body or your mind that gives up first,” the entity said, “It is only the strength of your will that will allow you to continue down your destined path… but many give up on that path and someone else must be chosen.”

“What does this have to do with me,” you snapped. “Why are you meddling in my life? What does Kakavasha have to do with this?”

“Kakavasha still has a long road ahead of him. I have supplemented his journey all his life. It was only recently he was able to live on his own will,” said the entity ”Your body is giving up. I do not have the power anymore to keep him alive. That lies with you.”

Your surroundings melted again. You were in a hospital room and on the bed was you. Eyes closed and steadily breathing, but your heartbeat was weak. The annoying beeping from before was louder and more prominent.

“You wanted to help him. During his past, you reached out each time. There is nothing you can do about that now, but the future and the present… you still have a choice.”

Laying a hand on your unmoving body, there was a slight resistance, but with just a bit more pressure you felt as if you could phase through it entirely.

“What do I need to do,” you asked the entity.

“Live.”

You furrowed your brow at that. Of course you wanted to live… right? The entity gestured for your hand, you obliged. Against your palm was an oddly soft feeling. Warm. Like a mother’s touch against your’s. Your palms pressed together, the entity spoke,

“May the goddess Gaiathra close HER eyes three times… Keep your blood eternally pulsing… Let your journey be forever peaceful… …and your schemes forever concealed."

You lifted your head and your “body” began to disappear similar to how Kakavasha disappeared. Just before you disappeared into sparks of golden light, you had the sense about you to ask:

“Who are you?” you felt like you were shouting, but your voice was quiet.

“You could call me Fenge Biyos.”

You opened your eyes with a deep gasp for air. Your surroundings were blurry, and you rubbed at your eyes, only to realize Kakavasha was up, standing next to your hospital bed with an anxious expression, hands already grasping the one that was wiping crust from your eyes.

“You’re awake,” he choked out, holding you as if you would break, “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry for everything. I’m sorry I did this to you that I—”

“Kakavasha, slow down, what… why are you—no, don’t be sorry,” you finally found your words, sitting foward on the bed to wrap your arms around him. You racked your brain, trying to figure out what was going on. Your mind was still foggy, but finally that haze disappated and you remembered everything leading up to now.

“Kakavasha~” you hummed in a song-like tone, a small wrapped box with a blue and purple bow tied around it. You skipped over to his desk and wrapped your arms around his shoulders where he sat, and placed the gift in front of him, laying your head on his shoulder as your arms tightly hugged him. “I have a surprise.”

He smiled with a small laugh, “Doesn’t this usually work the other way around?” He pecked a kiss onto your check before pulling the bow off and opening the lid of the box, when he froze.

The smile on your face faltered bit when he didn’t say anything after a bit. The corners of it tightened into a more forced position, “Kakavasha? You’re gonna be a papa…”

The joy in his face from earlier had completely vanished. Only replaced by a stony, cold, poker face. He pushed his chair back and you stumbled into the wall behind. He gave you a tight smile and kissed your forehead before heading for the door and grabbing his hat. “I’ll be back later.”

With that, the door slammed shut behind him, leaving you at a loss as you fell into his chair, feeling suddenly so very empty in this large office alone.

He came back after that, apologetic for leaving you, but nothing felt truly right. He continued to reassure you that he did want to have this child, but it was a strenous time. The entire pregnancy was stressful. The doctors warned you that the level of stress you were under put you at risk for a premature birth, but you brushed them off. It was just the hormones, you were sure. Kakavasha still loved you. The ring on your finger should’ve been proof enough of that.

“How about the name Ilyas?” you suggested, laying your head on Kakavasha’s lap, “I was… looking at some databases about Avgin names and I thought that one was nice. What do you think?”

Aventurine hummed, but his mind seemed elsewhere. You let it go.

The next few months continued on in similar fashion.

But it all came to a head.

The two of you were standing in the kitchen. It had started off small. The hormones and the stress were getting to you. It was an off hand comment about him not fixing dinner, and you were tired and hungry from carrying around his child.

From there it had escalated. It turned into you were tired of feeling like you were walking on eggshells when you talked about the pregnancy. About how he was barely around for the appointments, and when he was he seemd emotionally distant… finally he exploded

“I never asked for this!” he shouted. “When did I ever say I wanted to be a father? Did you even ask me? Did you think about what I felt about this whole thing at all?”

You paused, feeling tears well up in your throat as a white-hot fear flashed through your body. You laughed, a hollow sound, “I’m sorry, Aventurine, I thought it took two people to make a baby? And you certainly made no attempt to use protection.”

He didn’t have anything to say about that. Even though the argument seemed over, you felt a nauseous feeling crawling up in your throat. Your tears felt like acid burning through your skin. Then a pain in your stomach. Your knees gave out and the last thing you remember was the scared expression on Kakavasha’s face before it all went dark.

“I was scared…. I was so scared that bringing another Avgin into this world would only bring misfortune onto you… that Gaiathra Triclops would take you from our child, just like my mother was taken from me,” he openly cried into your shoulder. “I took it out on you. I made something that should’ve been a beautiful experience something that was awful, and I understand… if you never forgive me for that but please…. please don’t leave.”

Now you were crying with him, one hand tangled in his blond locks and the other rubbing his back. Quietly, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it, he whispered, “I can’t lose you too.”

You thought for a long time. In front of you wasn’t one of the Ten Stonehearts of the IPC. Not a calculating or cunning man, who’s only interest was in things that benefited the IPC’s bank accounts. In front of you was a broken man, who’d had everything stripped away from him when he was only a child. Who was shattered and forced to put his life back together with nothing but fear and anxiety as glue.

Did it excuse what he'd broken?

No.

“I’m here… I won’t leave Kakavasha,”

But maybe with time and effort, you could help re-glue each other with something a little more beautiful.

“Ilyas! Don’t run so far!” you called after a small blond haired child who was already ahead of you by a longshot, you turned exasperatedly to your husband, “Honey, can you go after him please? I don’t want him to get trampled by some idiot who’s not paying attention…”

The man only smiled at you, one hand firmly wrapped around your ever expanding waist, “It’s okay. There’s some of my squad that’s following him incognito. He won’t get out of our sights without them dragging him back. We can let him get his energy out. He’ll be cooped up in a hospital soon.”

You huffed conceded. Already tired from just getting through the theme park’s entrance. You were due in about two weeks, but Kakavasha was insistent that a week before you’d be under hospital supervision until you brought your second child into the world. It had taken about five years before the two of you had healed enough and there were roadbumps along the way… but you were both ready to give Ilyas a little sister.

But for now, the two of you wanted to let Ilyas have one more day as an only child. The reconstructed Penacony was nothing like the Dreamscape of the past. Fear and secrets no longer were trapped in the gilded cage of the former prison planet. With the help of the IPC and the Harmony, New Penacony was entirely real. No more dreams, just reality. They’d kept many of their old franchises and built a true theme park.

“Mama!! Picture! Let’s get a picture here before we go in!” Ilyas screeched, pointing at Clockie statue in front of the Clock Studios main attraction. You set a hand on Kakavasha’s arm, glancing up at him to try to get a read on what he was feeling. He’d let you in on the parts of his past that he’d kept a secret. The scheme behind Penacony, his proposed “death” and his encounter with his Past and Future.

He took a breathe and looked back down at you, giving you a smile that said “I’m okay” and relief flooded your bones. After walking you over in front of the camera, he crouched down and scooped Ilyas into his arms.

“Ready?” the cameraman asked and you nodded. After a brief countdown the camera flashed, and for a moment in that bright light, you saw the hopeful future that lied ahead.

[walpu]

Hi, it’s me again!! >_<

When I tell you I gobbled that headcannon post up, I went down on two knees and howled /hj

Anyways, do you think you can do some headcannons on Aventurine with Bodyguard! Reader if you have the time? But this time, with a twist :3

See, reader does care for Aven, you truly do, but before that, you were tasked by Everflame mansion and by Duke inferno himself to kill Aventurine. But you can’t bring yourself to, no, not when you’ve fallen head over heels for him.

When reader does become Aven’s bodyguard, you maintain that serious, no nonsense demeanor, but if he looks closely enough, he’ll see the lovestruck puppy hiding under the hardened shell that they’ve put on.

But the guilt catches up. One day, at least a few months after reader’s betrayal to Duke Inferno, you catch sight of an assassin sent to finish the job they couldn’t do. And so, the secret is finally revealed.

Personally, I think Aventurine would be betrayed, like very, how could he not be? He’s always kept people at an arm’s length away, and when he finally lets you in his walls, and starts falling for thier charm, this secret of yours comes out. He fires you almost immediately, but the way he stares after you with misty eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

The next months were absolute hell. Reader found a new job as a barista, and is quite enjoying the quaint and simply life it provides, even if you do miss Aventuirne. He’s probably still seething at you, right?.

Wrong. Because you’ve gone MIA, Aventurine been scouring all over the place, trying so hard to find you. He’s loosing sleep, forgetting to eat, all things that you would chide him about. Aeons, he misses you so much.

And when he does find you, he’s overjoyed, and when the two finally reunite, the first thing you do is to apologize deceiving him. But he forgave your silly ass a long time ago, why else would he have spent the last months trying to find you?

Long story short, it’s a happy ending, Aventurine couldn’t be more grateful he has you to be his bodyguard, his closest confidant, and most importantly, his lover <33

I’m so sorry if I went on a ramble, but this idea’s been plaguing me so bad I literally can’t focus on anything else 😭😭

I'VE BEEN LOOKING FORWAR TO WRITIG FOR THIS REQUEST SINCE THE MOMENT I SAW IT I ADORE YOUR BODYGUARD!READER x AVEN SERIES btw thank you for sharing the c.ai bot

I feel like the only thing I do with each post is apologize for taking so long but right now I like from work trip to work trip so I'm actually really really sorry this madness should end soon 😭😭😭😭 Hope you'll enjoy this post, it was my goal to finish it before version 2.1

bodyguard/assassin!reader x Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes- gn!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, no beta

It was not a fast prosses for the both of to form a genuine connection. Moreover, you know goddamn well you shouldn't get attached to him.

And at first it seems easy, like yeah another rich playboy, no big deal, you've delt with people like him before, right? Right??????????????

Yeah until suddenly he's not just a rich playboy.

The more you notice how deeply lonely and unhappy he is, the more your heart softens towards him. And the more your heart softens, the more he relaxes around you, seeing behind your cold exterior.

He's not used to people caring about him. And yes, of course he knows it's your job but still, for a man who never had a real friend before, he surely can appreciate having someone who not only won't leave him but also will listen to him and look after him.

And the part about you being paid to do it? Oh well. It's the same guy who offers you to use him as you wish and who's greeting line is "I can play a role of a friend :)"

Mf is FRIENDLESS, LONELY and PATHETIC /affectionally

He'll take what he can get okay.

But goddamn. Don't think he doesn't notice how you started going out of your ways to take care of him. How you make him eat, tend to his small injuries ("my, my, you're my bodyguard, not a doctor. perhaps someone wants a raise, hm?~"), how you drag him out of casino or his office when it's too late.

It drives him crazy. It's not beneficial for you, right? The w h y.

He won't ask. Instead he will watch and slowly fold.

You are probably suffering tho lol. You should just kill him already, you've had so many opportunities to end him. Instead you spoon feed him soup because he claims he has a hangover after a night in the casino. And this little brat looks so smug about it too!!!!

Sometimes he feels like it's too good to be true: you being here, taking care of him, looking after him. The line between professional relationship, friendship and... something more is way too blurry already, and he knows it's dangerous but it just feels so good. Too good.

Duke inferno gets tired eventually. He sends someone to remind you of your mission. To remind you who you really work for.

Well, the duke receives a warning of his own. The dead body of his little messenger.

You know, of course, that the Everflame mansion thugs are not easily intimidated. They will be back. So you better warn Aventurine and tell him everything.

You can't keep lying to him, can you?

Well. It's surprisingly not as easy as you thought. After all, even if they will send someone, you'll just protect Aven like you always do, right? He doesn't have to know. Not about your past, not about your original mission. He keeps his secrets too, so why can't you?

You know goddamn well why tho. You know and yet you still can't bring yourself to tell him the truth.

It goes on like that for several months and Aventurine notices that something is clearly off, something is bothering his darling protector. He tries to pry, to tease, to cling, to pester you. Something to make you open up. Or, at least, get distracted. He can't help but feel anxious. Why are you suddenly so reversed? Do you want to leave his side? Does he not pay you enough? Does he bother you too much? It eats him alive while he tries to mask it by pestering you even more. As if to test you. As if to make sure that it's not the case.

All the hell breaks loose one day when you discover that Duke inferno has sent another assassin to finish the job.

I you spare the details but yeah, your secret was unraveled. And it wasn't pretty at all.

You have never seen emotions so vivid on Aven's face. Part of you always wanted to see him more vulnerable, more open with you. But not like this. Not this look of utter betrayal.

He collects himself quick enough, hiding behind the mask of mock disappointment.

"Hm, well, I recall mentioning that treachery is just another tool of the trade. But it seems like our little deal is not paying off for me anymore" he says with a cold chuckle, shaking his head a little. "After all, you have very little to offer outside of your dog-like loyalty. But seems like this dog bit both hands that fed it".

You were expecting him to call for your arrest but instead he just fires you. It hurts nevertheless.

What hurts even more is that look he gives you when you part ways. It's like his pretty eyes are even more lifeless now.

At first he feels this overwhelming emptiness. It truly feels like the fate is mocking him. One time, just one time, he allowed himself to relax around someone. Just this one time, with this one person who took care of him, who listened to him, who looked out for him. And this person was supposed to kill him.

Then his stupid brain finds another way to torture him. He keeps thinking about the way you have always protected him, the way you took the hit even during the last attack, when Duke Inferno's new assassin tried to get to him. You were ready to leave your past life behind to stay by his side, weren't you?

As soon as he realizes it he goes frantic. Of course he tries to find you asap but of course someone as competent as you would be able to disappear without a trace in no time. You were an assassin, after all. A skilled one too, since he never even suspected you.

This connection the two of you had, this realization that you really cared enough to betray your client, all of this makes him realize that he needs you so, so much. He needs to feel this care again, he need to look at you again, to know that you're here by his side.

He misses you so much. Your nagging, your reassurance, your touch. He's like an addict who felt what it feels like to love and beloved in return for the first time and now he can't live without it.

He doesn't eat or sleep properly, his head plagued by the thoughts about you. What if you forgot all about him? What if you're wounded? Where are you even? His fingers itch to trace your face and your scars.

He thinks about how you would scold him for not taking proper care of himself and it makes him miss you even more.

Aven finds you after a few months. It was honestly a coincidence, one of his subordinates saw you in the coffee shop you were working at.

He though that finding you will calm him down but seeing you from afar, looking somewhat peaceful and cozy, having a regular job... it's too much. And what if you really don't need him anymore? Maybe you never did? After all, he's painfully aware that he probably needs you much more than you need him.

And yet, he decides to take this risk. He's a gambler, after all.

"Somehow I'm not surprised you're good even at that. How come you have never made me coffee before, hm?"

You literally freeze on the spot after hearing this familiar voice next to you.

When you finally get to talk, you can see he's really trying to look calm and collected but how can he? His hands are shaky and his voice cracks. It breaks your heart.

He doesn't even let you finish your apology, pressing a finger to your lips.

"Hush, darling. All is forgiven. In fact, I even have an interesting proposal. I'm can be a generous man after all".

He can't fool you. Not with this shaky soft voice. And he knows it as well.

Please hug that fool and kiss him. Swear that you won't ever leave him again. Swear that you want to be by his side. As his bodyguard, as his friend, as something more. So much more. That's all he really need to feel like he's at home.

[madaqueue]

Practice Makes Perfect | Chapter 6

synopsis: you and yuji have been best friends basically as long as you can remember, and you made a promise to each other to stay friends and help each other be the best versions of yourselves for your future partners. but will things change when yuji finally starts looking for a relationship?

pairing: yuji itadori (18+) x f!reader

themes/content: modern college au (characters aged up to 18+). language, smut. fingering (f receiving), squirting, overstimulation (sort of), hickeys. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.1 k

a/n: again i say: RAAAA

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Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest as the pink-haired boy slowly makes his way over to you on the bed. He places his hands on either side of your body, still staring at your lips.

“So, what do you say?” he says, his mind still foggy. “Gonna let me try?” You bite your bottom lip and nod, still aching from when you didn’t get to finish earlier. “Use your words, sweets,” he prompts, his grin turning into a smirk as he uses one of his hands to tilt your chin up so your lips brush against his.

“Y-yes, please. I want you to touch me,” your voice almost a whine.

“Touch you where?” he prods, tilting his head in fake innocence.

Normally you would have played along and said something bratty in response, but after basically teasing yourself the entire time you had his cock in your mouth you’re at the end of your wire. You grab one of his hands and guide it between your legs.

His fingers brush against your clothed pussy. “Mm, so wet for me already?” he purrs. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

His eyes flit up to yours for a moment before his lips crash against yours. At the same time, he uses his fingers to push your panties to the side. His thumb circles your clit as you take in a sharp gasp, and he chuckles against your lips.

He moves down to your entrance before pausing momentarily. “Please,” you whine, the word leaving your mouth before you even realize it. With a smirk, he slowly pushes inside of you. The feeling immediately overtakes you and you reach your hands up to the back of his neck, one going into his hair with a firm grasp. He takes that as approval that he’s doing something right and puts a second finger inside of you, causing you to moan into his open mouth through the kiss.

Even just his fingers were the best thing you’ve ever felt. This is far better than anything you’ve been able to do yourself.

He explored your insides until he found that sweet spot, making you shudder at the feeling. “F-fuck Yuji, r-right there,” you stutter through a moan. He curls his hand into that spot over and over while his thumb continues to circle your clit. You drag one hand from his neck down his back as your fingertips brush against his skin, hot under your touch.

As you caress him, he shifts his weight and moves his lips down to your neck. He starts to gently kiss the space between your jawline and ear before sinking into it with his teeth, the slight pain making you whimper. He pauses momentarily to make sure he didn’t hurt you, before you whisper “Yuji, I-I’m gonna cum.”

He moves up slightly so his breath tickles against your ear. “Cum for me,” he breathes.

The words send electricity through your body, pushing you over the edge. Your eyes shut and your back arches off the bed. Your pussy flutters around his fingers as you practically lose all sense of what’s going on around you, the only thing grounding you to reality is the sensation of Yuji still kissing your neck.

As you feel yourself returning to your body, you realize his hand moving inside of you has slowed but not stopped.

“Um, Yuji?” you mutter, barely a whisper.

“Mhm?” he hums, never taking his lips off of your skin.

“Y-you’re still…” you trail off, suddenly getting dizzy with the sensation continuing to build between your legs as his rough fingers rub your slick insides.

Finally pulling his mouth off of your neck with a gentle pop from the way he was sucking on you between his teeth, he leans back up to your ear. “I want to try something. Is that alright with you, sweets?”

Unsure of what exactly he’s asking but feeling pressure building in your abdomen again, you nod. “Yes,” you barely manage to get out, knowing he likes when you use your words.

Almost immediately, his fingers pick up speed, pressing into you over, and over, and over again, hitting just the right spot. You tighten your grip on his hair and you hear him softly moan against your neck. His lips start moving down your neck to your collarbone, a spot he knows you like. But this time, he continues lower. Placing gentle kisses down the front of your chest, he pauses when he reaches the space between your tits. Looking up at you, he smiles in awe - your eyes are closed, mouth slightly open, head tilted back against the pillows. He wishes he could just stare at you forever, but he has a job to do.

Shifting his weight again, he starts moving his lips across your chest until he hits the edge of your bra. Without a second thought, you remove your hand from the back of his head and pull it to the side. Yuji smirks to himself at how well you know him, reading his desires without him having to say anything. His tongue slides over your firm nipple and slips it into his mouth, gently sucking the hardened bud between his lips. The new sensation makes you squirm under his touch.

His hand speeds up as he senses you moving, thrusting in and out as his fingers curl inside of you. You feel the familiar sensation building, but something is…different. Another moan leaves your lips as your nails dig into his back.

“I - ah - I’m gonna-” Your words are suddenly cut short as something inside of you snaps. A sound escapes you that mirrors a scream as your legs spasm beneath you. Grabbing onto Yuji for dear life, you ride the intense high of the orgasm he brought you to.

What just happened? Your mind is fuzzy, pulling in shaky breaths as you try to ground yourself. Finally opening your eyes, the room slowly spins as you focus your gaze on the pink-haired male whose face hovers just above your chest. A huge grin appears on his face as your eyes meet his.

“I knew you could do it,” he breathes through a smile.

“Do what, exactly?” you question, still trying to steady yourself.

“I had a feeling but I wasn’t sure, and I just knew I had to keep going, and-” he rambles. You tune him out as you prop yourself up on your elbows and look down, seeing Yuji’s arms shiny from your slick. He…made you squirt? “-and then your hands on my back felt so good, and-”

“Yuji,” you actually cut him off this time, “you’re rambling.” A weak smile forms on your lips.

“Oh, sorry,” he chuckles. He slowly pulls his hand from between your legs, moving it up to his lips before he slides his fingers into his mouth. His eyes flutter closed as he sucks the taste of you off them, the sight making you blush. “There,” he says, pulling his digits out of his mouth as his eyes open and meet yours, “now we’re even for earlier.”

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to respond, but before you can get anything out, he leans over and kisses you. His lips are soft and his tongue slowly works its way past yours, the slight taste of you still lingering.

Pulling away, he smiles down at you. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes slightly glazed over, lips still parted. He wishes he could just stay in this moment forever, your warm skin pressed against his, softly illuminated by the glow of the string lights. Yet, he knows there’s still more to do before the both of you can rest.

He leans up and places a kiss against your cheek before rolling off the side of the bed, landing with his feet on the soft carpet. His arms swoop underneath your body as he picks you up in a bridal carry, your arm going over his neck for stability. Walking across your room, he gently places you down in your desk chair. “Let me clean up a bit, then I’ll be right back and we can get some rest,” he says, leaning over to kiss your forehead.

All you can do is stare, still trying to ground yourself, as he pulls the comforter off your bed. He walks to your closet and searches through it until he pulls out a pair of your pajama shorts before sliding them up his thighs. He turns over his shoulder to face you as he jokingly places a hand on his ass, now covered by hot pink shorts. “You like what you see?” he winks at you from across the room.

“It really brings out your eyes,” you giggle, pulling your knees up to your chest, suddenly realizing how cold you are without his body next to yours.

He turns back to your closet and pulls out two t-shirts. Tossing one to you and putting the other on, he grabs the comforter from the floor. “I’m gonna go put this in the wash, then we can get cleaned up and head to bed, yeah?” he says, tilting his head at you with that lopsided grin on his face. You nod and he turns to step out of the room.

While he’s gone, you look at yourself in the mirror. You laugh lightly, realizing you look just as fucked out as Yuji did earlier. Turning your head to the side you notice a purple hickey on your neck, right between your jawline and ear. Almost as if he could feel you thinking about him, Yuji steps back into the room, a smile still plastered on his face as his eyes focus on you. You roll your eyes at him, pointing at the mark he left on your skin.

“Oops,” he shrugs, still grinning, “my bad.” He plays it off, but you can tell from his tone he knew exactly what he was doing. Now you’re left to figure out how to hide it before your study session with Megumi.

The rest of the night goes by easily, both of you still fighting through the brain fog brought on by your life-altering orgasms. You find a blanket under your bed that you and Yuji barely fit under, but you don’t mind - it’s just an excuse to stay closer to him. The two of you huddle under it on top of your bed, and as you drift into sleep, you feel his hand lazily tracing circles against your back.

–

The next morning, your eyes blink open and you feel Yuji’s fingers brush against your arm. “Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice low from sleep. You look down and see a freshly cleaned comforter covering both of you. He follows your eyes and preempts, “You were sleeping really deep, and I knew it was done in the wash, so I just thought I’d go grab it. And you seemed really cold in the middle of the night because you got all cuddled up to me, so I figured you could use the extra warmth.”

Turning to face him, you smile. “Thank you, Yuji,” you respond, your morning voice making the words even softer.

“Anytime,” his grin spreading across his face. “I was about to wake you up anyways, you gotta get ready for your daaaaate,” he teases, reaching down to poke your stomach. You squeal, trying to wriggle out of his grasp as you both laugh. “Where is it, anyways? I can walk you there if you’d like,” he offers nonchalantly.

You freeze. You had never told him you were supposed to see Megumi, and you weren’t sure how he’d react. I mean, he shouldn’t even have a reaction, right? you think. After all, you are just friends. Even as you think the words, a pit grows in your stomach.

“It’s at a cafe, but I’m actually meeting him at his place first,” you tentatively respond, moving your eyes away from his.

“Oh, well I can walk you there then! What dorm is he in?” he continues, not seeming to get the hint.

“He, um, actually lives in your dorm…” you trail off.

Pausing to think for a moment, his face suddenly lights up. “Holy shit, it’s Fushiguro, isn’t it?” he says. Your eyes look back up to his to try and see his reaction, but the main emotion you sense is genuine surprise. “Oh my god, it is!” he laughs.

Your eyes scan his face, trying to read what he’s feeling as you slowly nod. “Is that okay?” you ask.

For a second, you see him falter. “Y-yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t it be? I love Fushiguro, I just didn’t know he could pull like that,” he chuckles, eyes momentarily shifting away from yours until he returns your gaze.

Nobody else would have noticed, but you, who has known Yuji for as long as you have, you notice. His laugh was forced.

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[captainpulisic]

your kiss, my cheek, I watched you leave - m. mount

feedback is appreciated, thank you.

word count: 2.1 k gif credits to owner

if anyone asked either of you about it, neither you nor mason would be able to explain how the fight had started. you’re not entirely sure what had made you two so upset with each other, you just knew this bitchy attitude had been happening all morning.

there you were, in the kitchen, pondering over how this fight had started. could it have been about the girl who had been too touchy with him at last night's party? maybe it was about the extra hours you had spent at work this past week, arriving home long after mason had gone to sleep? fuck, if we’re being honest, it was probably about who had finished the last pint of ice cream, maybe? 

as you look at the clock, you decide to put a pin on this reflection, seeing it’s nearly time to leave for tonight's game (just because you both want to murder each other right now doesn’t mean you won’t go, you were never one to miss a game, if you could help it.). you head up the stairs to your bedroom, the same stairs mason had stormed up a few minutes ago. what a child, you nearly laugh at the image of masons pout when you called him immature. instead of retorting with, also, calling you a name, he simply huffed and stomped up the stairs. seconds later, the sound of a door being shut rang throughout the whole house. 

as you enter your shared bedroom, you’re greeted with masons back. his tense movements and the manner in which he is throwing clothes into his duffel bag, let you know he’s still feeling raw about the fight. 

you still feel pretty raw, too. thus, you spare him no glance as you shove past him. yes, you still put on your number nineteen jersey (not wearing it would be a little too much, even you know where to draw the line. mason would see it as a stab to his heart). yet, as you remember how he rolled his eyes when you called him unreasonable, you feel irked again. you need some sort of retaliation. you make a show of putting a plain, grey hoodie over the jersey, refusing to meet his stare. that oughta show him, you think to yourself. he looks as if he wants to say something, yet resorts to another eye roll and an even louder scoff. 

both of your attitudes were so horrendous, they continued as you settled into the car. the whole ride to the bridge, not one word was uttered to each other. no, it was all huffy sighs and the low hum of the music playing. hell, even the way he was holding your hand was stiff, no gentle squeezes or lip brushes. (what? just because he’s furious at you doesn’t mean he’s not going to hold your hand. he's upset, not crazy.)

when you arrive at the bridge, you both linger by the entrance, unsure of what to do or how to depart. usually, on happy days with no fights, you both stay there as long as possible, as you pepper his face with kisses. one on his forehead, one on each cheek, one on the little red spot on the bridge of his nose. you repeat this ritual until you’re both giggling messes. lastly, it ends with one final, proper kiss on his lips before he has to leave for some pre game obligations. mason refers to this as his ‘good luck kisses’. he swears on every star and planet that these ‘good luck kisses’ are the reason they win. before, you’d brushed it off as mason just making silly excuses to get kisses. you’d always been one to indulge him because who were you to deny him kisses? but to mason, he wholeheartedly believed that your little ritual meant something, it was the one superstition he followed before every game.

“you can never not kiss me, or else you’ll have to tell everyone you’re the reason we lost”, he had explained to you. even though you had laughed, it quickly died off when you saw his dead serious expression. “y/n, there’s nothing funny about this. the whole clubs future depends on you and me getting it on.”

therefore, your little tradition was born. if there was a game, mason could be found being kissed to death by you. if ben or conor or anyone else happened to pass by during this, their teasing would be answered with masons, “do you want us to win or not?”

when chelsea would end up winning a match, he’d get so smug. he’d claim that your kisses really were lucky, crediting you for their win. no, you weren’t just his good luck charm, you were the entire teams. if they happened to lose, even with your good luck kiss, he simply blamed it on someone else's performance or the refs shit calls. 

“well that was unfortunate, but it wasn’t my fault,” he would whisper in your ear, as you greeted him after a hard loss. you’d just shake your head, assuring him he was spectacular on the field. a smile would form on his lips as he whispered into your ear, “next time, we have to have a proper makeout, just to make sure we win, yeah?”

yet, right now, the air between you two is frigid. there are no giggles and no playful touches as you cover him in kisses. no, you both stand there and look everywhere but at each other. mason doesn’t leave right away, unsure if he should. you had never been one to deny him his good luck kiss, surely today wouldn’t be the start. arguments come and go but this was your tradition. he knew that you knew what it meant to him. yet, as you showed no indication of leaning in to give him his kisses, he figured he’d take on the role today.

look. you didn’t mean to turn your head, causing his kiss to land on your cheek. you swear it! you had seen him lean down and (secretly) felt relieved that today would have some normalcy, with your good luck kisses. but all too soon, you remembered how mason had refused to listen to you in the heat of the argument. instead of trying to talk things out and think of a solution, he had told you to “grow up” and walked away. like a switch, your anger and bitterness had come back with a vengeance. and like a reflex, your head turned when his lips came crashing down. 

you’ll admit, it was a petty move. you don’t really regret it though, anger still bubbling from his childish behaviour. if he wanted to be childish, so could you. 

you don’t regret it, that is until you see the look on masons face. your rejection of his kiss feels like the ultimate betrayal to him. the hurt in his eyes and his dejected expression have you second guessing everything you’ve ever done. 

“oh,” masons voice is small, but not as small as he feels at the moment. his face has fallen and his heart feels stripped bare. his sad pout is more present than ever. when he speaks, it's a mere whisper, “okay then.”

you’re not doing any better, all the hard feelings you had moments ago were looking very dumb. the look on his face had you ready to fold and forgive him. you had to hold yourself back from reaching for his hand and pulling him into your arms, kissing him until you were pulled apart. you just… couldn't. 

maybe you were too stubborn, but so was he. plus, you still felt you were owed an apology. he was the one in the wrong, the culprit in this stupid argument. you had to remain strong, even if all you wanted was to kiss the sorrows from his face. 

with one final (heartbreaking) glance towards you, mason turns to head into the locker room. and with that, you half heartedly head to the designated seating area for family and friends. 

it’s just a silly tradition mason and I have. we only do it because it gives us a reason to unashamedly make out. it’s not like our kissing sessions affect if chelsea actually wins or not, you tell yourself as you find your seat. 

soon enough, you’re eating your words. you don’t know if you should cover your eyes or turn your head away from the crime scene unfolding in front of you. the way chelsea is being annihilated by the opposing team, you’re dumbstruck. mason is a whole different story, playing like (in the kindest way possible) shit. it’s a sea of cards and missed shots. the ball gets stolen from him more times than you could count and his frustration is evident. he’s throwing fits and cussing out no one in particular as he walks the field. 

by the time the final whistle is blown, you’re grateful the bloodbath is done with. you’re not sure how you feel about what just happened. the one time I didn’t kiss mason, they really did lose, you mull over this. it can’t really be connected, right?

-

nonetheless, as you make your way towards the locker room, you’ve had time to think things over. you’re much more calm than when you left mason two hours ago, and all you want to do is kiss him and end this stupid argument. you’ll even be the one to swallow your pride and apologise if you have to, you just need things to go back to normal. heck, you even took off the hoodie and are proudly showing off the nineteen on your back. maybe that’ll ease the blow a bit. you can’t stop thinking of the hurt look he gave you when you rejected his kiss, and you can already imagine the horrid mood he’ll be in after the end results of the match. he’s already had such a difficult time with all his contract drama, another team loss is the last thing he needed.

waiting outside the locker room, you offer sympathetic smiles as all the boys start to walk out. mason is one of the last ones to exit, looking down at the ground as he walks. when he looks up and sees you, your heart wants to shatter into a million pieces. his dejected expression and ever present pout actually hurt you. 

“you didn’t kiss me,” he whispers matter-of-factly, as he comes to a halt in front of you. he’s still refusing to meet your gaze. he mumbles towards his shoes, “you didn’t kiss me and they kicked our arses out there.”

“what?” you’re baffled, having thought his sour mood would be due solely to the team's loss, or even to his mid performance. you hadn’t thought the lack of kisses between you had gotten to him so badly.

he finally looks at you, and it's like a shot to the heart. his eyes are filled with sadness and frustration and so much hurt. he states it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, “you didn’t give me my good luck kiss. you turned away, so I played like shit.”

oh my, your heart might burst. my sweet, precious boy, I don’t deserve you. this situation is so pathetically heartbreaking and you hate to see him so sad over something you did. it’s all too much, the way he genuinely believes your kisses could control the outcome of the game and his performance. 

“my baby,” you’re wrapping your arms around him in an instant. automatically, he reciprocates the action and nuzzles his face into you. you begin to rub his back, trying to ease his breathing and relax him a bit. after a few moments in this embrace, you nudge him from his hiding spot in the crook of your neck and hold his face with both hands. you leave a kiss on the tip of his nose, “i’m so, so sorry. it’ll never happen again.”

he simply nods and offers you a slight smile. in return, you place a soft kiss on his jaw and on at the lobe of his ear. you leave another kiss on his cheek and one on his forehead. soon enough, you’re both lost in a haze of kisses. when you hear him let out a soft laugh, your heart strings ease up. 

yes, this is how it should be. no arguments and rejected kisses. there should just be laughter and intertwined hands and soft kisses and happiness. 

trying to lighten his mood even more, you look around before you lean in towards his ear. you fake whisper, “please don’t tell the other boys I didn’t kiss you today. I don’t want them to start forcing us to kiss in front of them before every game, like some sort of kissing cult sacrifice show.”

he gasps and puts on a (not so) fake offended face, “why not?”

[faretheeoscar]

SWEET LIES

Pairing: Jonathan Levy x Reader

--Warnings: 🔥18+, nsfw, oral sex, mentions of unprotected sex (take care of yourselves guys), lots of angst(Jonathan is a soft jerk), praise kink, contextual/ small? spoilers of scenes of a marriage (read under at your own risk if you haven’t seen it), age gap, sub-ish Jonathan (?), student/professor relationship (so much warnings omg)--

A/N: English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there’s any mistakes

Thanks to vin for her insights on Jonathan 🫶🏼

Word count: 2.1 k ~

You knew he was trouble, with all the backstory this man had; two failed marriages, two families to feed, and an inflated new ego due to his new success on his study field that led him to do international Ted talks amongst other things; this man exuded powerful energy from wherever angle you saw him, although that may be the case when he was in public; when you saw him giving lectures or speaking amongst his peers, but you knew other sides of Jonathan, he showed you a different side of himself when he was alone with you, you very well knew how this man could became all mushy and needy after a single peck on the lips, but also he could be dominant, specially when he had you bend over his desk as he pounded relentlessly deep inside you from behind late at night on a dark classroom after finishing the lecture and making sure to lock the door.

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

This was your routine with Jonathan, every Wednesday you had your after hours session with your professor after his lecture, it all began when you started to stay after class to ask him about everything and anything you could think, not even really caring on his answers or the extra homework and research he sometimes gave you just because you asked something so rhetorical that he didn't even had the answer but he hid it in a very smart way making you do a 100 page essay about the topic just for you to "figure the question out for yourself", all that extra work only for you to stay on his presence for a few more minutes after class and please your dumb college crush with your professor.

Eventually one thing led to another, Jonathan was a very smart man and he started to notice the way you carried yourself around him and he liked it, A LOT, he noticed the longing gazes you gave him whenever he was giving a lecture, the dumb smile and pink hue your cheeks turned every time he praised you for answering a question he asked to the class, the lingering touches on his arm whenever you said goodbye to him, and finally those tiny tight little skirts you always wore to his class even if it was freezing outside, those things slowly started driving him crazy for you, feeling the need to bury himself deep inside you and fuck you senseless until you got so cock drunk on him that he'd ruined sex for you, you wouldn’t even turn your head around to be with another dumb college boy who couldn't satisfy you the way he would if he had the chance.

Those thoughts lingered in his head every time he saw you, his cock would get hard at the slight sight of your thighs when you moved in your chair at class, all that sometimes giving him embarrassing boners he couldn't hide unless he sat down behind his desk or excused himself to the bathroom to try to calm himself down, that kept happening until one day he couldn't handle it anymore and he took you for the first time after class. That day he noticed that after he was explaining to you a random question you had about the meaning of life, you opened slightly your legs for him to catch a glimpse of your wet panties below your loose skirt.

Soon after the class ended he went mad, his desires possessed him over when you came to his desk and leaned a little bit closer to him, giving him the opportunity to devour your mouth as if he was famished, drank your juices as if he was dehydrated and pounded into you in a way that it left you with a small limp the next day.

At the beginning it was only the rush of rough needy sex and the excitement of experimenting with one another, but when you started to get little hints of Jonathan’s life, of his real essence when he decided to share a little bit of himself when he was on a post nut clarity after filling you up with his cum until it leaked down your thighs like the pretty little girl you were for letting him do it, you started to fall for your professor, and you were falling hard, it wasn’t on your plans at all, to fall in love with a man that could be easily your father or a really young uncle? Definitely not what you had in mind, you always tried to push away your feelings for him, but you couldn’t help yourself , every time you walked into the same room as your professor the air got thicker, heavier, an invisible force always pulling you towards him, and the small little glimpses he gave you of his life, those were a lifeline to you.

------- 

And that’s how you always fell into the same situation, by couldn’t focusing on the bigger picture, on what was best for you, to avoid the lies, because each time he had his two fat fingers deep inside your pussy while he was eating you out like a starving man from below your skirt, not even worrying to pull off your panties from you and just pushing them to the side when his eyes went crazy after he felt how wet you were for him, you couldn’t help but feel like you were in heaven, like you were the most desirable creature in the world.

He knew about your developing feelings towards him, and boy did he took advantage of your sweet little innocence, always praising you and letting you hear what you wanted in exchange for you to give yourself fully to him, to keep you hooked on a non existent developing relationship as he kept making you empty promises.

 

“We’re gonna be together soon, I promise."

 

He mumbled as his digits went deeper inside you, touching your soft, velvety walls in ways that made you shiver.

 

“I’m gonna leave her, I'm gonna leave everything behind for you, baby."

 

You knew there were all lies; they had to be; this man was deprived from all sense of loyalty a long time ago because his demons haunted him until this day and he let himself be consumed by them, but that didn’t impede you from clenching around his fingers so hard as he tried to push them into you so deep that he could barely move them.

 

"God, you’re so beautiful; I’m gonna be with you forever.”

 

Lies, lies and more lies, sweet little lies that drove you mad as you squirmed under his touch, you knew he’ll be gone as soon as he finished with you, like always, he’ll go back to take care of his family, he’ll tell you he is going to leave them and then come back next week with the same lies but with the same starving and lusty look whenever he looked at you that made you clench around nothing, that made your knees go weak, until you knelt down in front of him forgiving every single false promise and sucking his cock so hard he’ll came in just a couple of minutes, Jonathan, sweet, but intelligent jerk Jonathan the man you loved, that will never be yours fully, you always tried to extend your time together as long as you could, you would taste him and love him as passionate as you could, although he told you over and over again that this was not passion, he didn't believed in that, he told you this was something deeper, a true connection between the two of you, but yet again you knew he was lying, he always lies, still you believed him when you kissed him and his tongue danced with yours, for just a couple of hours he was yours, and only yours, he loved you, but it was fleeting, just as the time you spent with him, his love will fleet and yours remained so deep inside you sometimes it hurt to even breathe.

Even though he was lying to you, saying all those things for your enjoyment, to keep you on the edge and hooked on him, when the opportunity of being with him presented itself to you, it didn’t really matter cause of Jonathan's skillful hands and tongue always moved so in and out of sync, giving you something that no one else has given you before, as his big fat digits always teased your hole, curling upwards just in the right way to reach your G-spot over and over again as his tongue flicked your clit in the most hypnotic way.

 

“My sweet girl, my sweet, beautiful, good girl.”

 

He ate you like a starving man, his licks and sucks on your clit becoming more enraged as he got lost in your scent and taste, making him moan and grunt as he reached for his pants with his free hand and started palming himself through his corduroy khakis.

 

“Oh god-You drive me crazy, baby”

 

He grunted as he kept palming himself in rhythm with his fingers that were thrusting into you, attacking your G-spot as he kept on abusing your clit, with his tongue feeling how tight your little hole was getting as you went close to your release.

 

“F-fuck baby girl...God, I-”

Jonathan kept moaning for you, it almost sent you spiraling at the sight of how ruined and pathetic this grown ass man sounded, desperately whining while drinking your juices, with messy curly hair thanks to the hard tugs you did to it as you tried to hold him as close to you as possible, not that he wanted to be in another situation, cause that man, he was so pussy drunk, he was almost coming in his pants at the mere scent of you.

 

“I- I love you.”

 

Jonathan whispered softly against your core, and with that, you came undone. Your legs shook, and you contorted your face in ecstasy as your climax hit you hard, leaving you seeing stars. Your mixed moans, along with Jonathan's, echoed in the room as he also embarrassingly made a mess out of his corduroy khakis, a big stain of cum now seeping through the fabric.

 

Jonathan got his head out of your skirt and chuckled softly as he saw you were as ruined for him as he was all ruined for you. He brushed the slick of your juices off his beard with the back of his hand and gave you a soft smile while a pink blush colored his cheeks because of his little incident on his pants, something different was different that day, some sparkling in his eyes.

You looked up at him with a stupid, dumb smile, hopeful about what just happened between you both and the deeper meaning of it. You wanted to ask him about what he said to you just seconds ago, his words ringing and repeating inside your head over and over again.

You wanted to speak, but words didn’t come out, getting trapped in your throat as you looked at him dumbfounded, something he mistakenly took as a look of pure ecstasy after taking care of you, lifting his ego more, as if his ego wasn’t inflated enough already.

 

He chuckled at your lack of words and pinched the side of your cheek before speaking.

 

“See you next week after class, then? Hm, same time?”

 

Your head still in a stupid post-orgasm haze and lost in the sweet words he told you, made you nod your head softly to him, without being able to say anything you wanted to tell him, he gave you a soft peck on the lips just before running his hand through his messy curls to arrange them, tucking out his shirt from his pants to hide the mess he made of himself, and picking up his bag to slouch it over his shoulder, trying to look as presentable as he could on the way from the classroom to his car. You wished he would stay and talk to you softly, to talk about your feelings, but instead he was again leaving you alone in the dark classroom with your heart on your sleeve.

 

You thought you had it all figured out when you saw there was a spark in his eyes; it was different from other encounters you have had with him before, but you couldn’t quite put the words to what it was.

Maybe he was truthful with his words? Or maybe he really didn’t care at all. Either way, you’ve fallen for Jonathan’s sweet, sweet lies.

 

Again...

Fic Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are kindly appreciated 🫶🏼

[one4shio]

Unexpected.

In which he thought it was impossible to meet you once again.

Notes: honestly, this is just me testing Aventurine character as a whole, how he would do, nothing much.. probably ooc but yeah. Grammar? What is that 🧑‍🦼

Content: SPOILER FOR 2.1!, reader is the same kin as Aventurine, childhood friends, angst/comfort.

He couldn't believe his eyes. It never cross his mind that he would see you here, in Penacony. Let alone thought that you were still well and alive after he ran away that day. Just how lucky he is right now? He thought it was impossible to meet his kin again after he was so sure he was the last one.

Aventurine meet you at the receptionist with the astral express, he's glad that there's someone who took you in, he wouldn't express it, not now at least. He don't know how to express gratitude. He don't think have a chance to express it after he finishes up with his plans in Penacony. Another gamble to make.

Eyes contacts are made with each other as he struck a conversation with the nameless, he wanted to chuckle softly as soon he saw your eyes widen at the sight of him. He didn't predict that you wouldn't be crying. It gives him chills. His heart hurts the sight of you crying. He couldn't show everyone his weak side- no no, it will be disadvantage for him.

It hurts for him to pretend he doesn't knows you. He will make this up when you two are alone together. But right now is not the time, he could see it in your eyes that you understand him even though it's been years since you two were together. You are fascinating to him.

Aventurine just laugh as you trying to make up excuses to as why you suddenly shed tears, he proceed to get his plan started right here.

As he was done dealing with Stelle, making a deals with her, and the Galaxy ranger steps in- he saw you at the corridor.

...

You two just frozen in place, no words exchange yet, you motion him to enter your room in which he nodded and follow you inside, you close the door and lock it as he is inside the room.

You both sat down, still not a single words exchange. You both look down at the floor, not looking at each other, it was awkward, but still have that sad atmosphere. You took a deep breath, trying to brave yourself.

"..how are you.. Aventurine..?" His body went stiff as he heard you not using his given name.. he could hear and feel that you didn't want to say his 'name' in your voice, "[name].. you don't have to use that name in private." He said with a sad tone and smile.

He finally look at you, aeons... You look even more beautiful. Just how lucky he is right now? He took a gamble again, close the gap between you two, carefully wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his warmth. His breath begin to shake as he inhale your familiar scents that he so missed.

You immediately wrap your arms around him as well, burying your face into his shoulder, silently crying in his embrace, "kakavasha... Kakavasha-! I'm- I'm glad you're okay-!" You cried and cried, pouring your emotions to him.

You are still the same, of course you do. He cried as well, his shoulders are shaking, how long has it been since he cried? Let alone cried in someone else's embrace. He pull you in even closer as you two cries in silent. No words to exchange because there's no need too.

There's a lot for you two can catch up with each other, but he don't think it's possible now, so he makes a brief explanations from the starts, when he runs away at his birthday, leaving everyone behind to what his late sister told him to do. You understand, you always understand him.

Before you two parts away, you two prayed together, his forehead lean against yours, he lift his left palm place it against your left one, closing your both eyes.. "May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you.. keeping your blood eternally flowing. May your journey be forever peaceful and your schemes forever concealed..."

With this, he hopes to cross his path again with you beneath the Kakava's shimmering aurora's.

[gretagerwigsmuse]

and even when we’re wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay (part 2.1)

Summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw is getting honored with an award and behaved like an absolute idiot when he didn’t initially ask his girlfriend to be his date even though she’s the best goddamn thing to ever happen to him

OR you take on the pacific fleet’s awards gala

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 9.8k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content (p in v, vaginal fingering and slight dom/sub and praise and rank kink elements), and shower sex and soapy titties

[Part 1] [Part 1.5] [Part 2.1] [Part 2.2]

A/N: this was really fucking long, so i split it up. the final final part will be posted soon! but i just want to thank everyone so so so much for all the absolutely amazing support i’ve gotten on this entire series including my little bradley and smart aleck drabbles and the respective lore about the two of them. i have so many people to thank for reaching out and leaving the absolute sweetest comments and replies and messages, but i’d be remiss if i didn’t call out sol, may, cass, ava, giza, and kylie for all their help and encouragement and listening to me complain via dms these past few weeks! so without further adieu...

and all these situations we go through, we come out the other side brand new

Bradley couldn’t believe it had almost been six months since the two of you had gotten together. Nearly six months of dinner dates, movie nights, cooking at each other’s places, beach trips, hikes (begrudgingly on your part), and even a couple jaunts down to Tijuana just for Caesar salads - all to say nothing about the sex.

“…God, you’re so fucking smart. Keep going, one more time for me…” His voice trailed off, turning into a groan. 

You bounced on his cock, balancing one hand on his chest, while brushing your hair out of your face with the other. “…even with inflation slowing, we should expect to see - oh, god, Bradley - in-interest rates will - will still rise - they’ll still rise - I’m so close, bubs.”

“Fuck.” He dug his hands harder into your hips. “You look so good taking my cock like that - now put your hands on those gorgeous tits of yours - just like that -”

“- I don’t think I can last - fuck oh oh oh -” You clumsily grabbed your breasts with one hand and threw your head back. 

Bradley stilled and you whined. He could feel you clenching around him. “- Can’t cum until you finish that presentation - don’t want my girl acting all dumb at work tomorrow -”

“- Fuck you - you should’ve - ohhh should’ve paid attention the first time.” He slapped your ass. “Mmmmmm, oh-okay Congress should stabilize - price caps to reduce inflationary pressures - please, bradley - oh god oh oh fuck - pressures through selective price caps -ohhhh god - fuck!”

Sure it was a delicate balance and mix of personalities sometimes, but it worked. Bradley thought it worked. Seemed like it did. His life with you was entirely separate from his life with the Navy. And he liked that. 

He liked that he could come home from a really long or hard day at work and you would both just talk about your days in the simplest terms and work through your shit together while eating dinner and then watching TV. Because work was work, no matter what field you worked in - coworkers were still assholes, your bosses still gave you shit, and deadlines still loomed. 

And so, Bradley just kept things separate. He still hung out with his friends, you still hung out with your friends, you both still had your separate apartments (though you had spent far more nights together than apart), and yeah sometimes you’d hang out with each other’s friends, but Bradley hadn’t wanted to bring you back to the Hard Deck.

He hadn’t wanted to relive that night when he was an asshole and Hangman had made you feel less than. And so meet ups were on neutral ground, drinks downtown and even a dinner party at his place once. 

But it worked. He thought it worked. Seemed like it did.

Because Bradley knew that you adored him. He knew you loved him, obviously - he was pretty sure he had had a perpetual smile on his face for two days after you had told him, all nervous and sweet and endearing one morning. But more to the point, he knew that you adored him - figurative warts and all. 

You had taught him that he was more than his rank or his callsign or his military ID number or - hell - even his last name - he was just Bradley. And for so long he hadn’t been living as Bradley. He’d gone through the motions, sure. But he hadn’t really let himself just be until he had met you. 

Even Phoenix, who you had gotten close to, had said something similar to him about you. Much like Bradley, she saw you as an amazing person, while also liking the ability to exist as just Natasha - not Phoenix. 

So yeah, maybe he wasn’t giving you enough credit. Instead of confronting it head-on, Bradley tried to remove anything that would remind you of his other life in the Navy and in doing so probably wasn’t being fair to you - or to himself. And he knew he would have to confront it sometime (maybe, eventually, like when you got married or something - maybe), but he didn’t think it would happen so soon. 

“What’s this?” 

You slipped the thick card stock invitation off Bradley’s fridge, a teasing smile on your face. He had forgotten it was there - but he hadn’t forgotten that he hadn’t told you about it. The smile on your face spread further as you read on and he tried not to shift on his feet. 

You glanced up at him. “Bradley, this is next weekend?”

“Is it?” He leaned over your shoulder to read the invitation, all while knowing full well when the gala was to be held. 

“Yeah, next Saturday.” You kept reading, a crinkle appearing on your forehead. “No way! It says you’re getting an award, too? Bradley, that’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged and avoided eye contact - fuck, you looked so proud of him. “It didn’t seem - important, I guess?”

“It sounds pretty important…” Your face fell suddenly. “Wait, you - do you not want me to come? Is that why you didn’t mention it?” you whispered. 

“No, no, I - I just - I just didn’t know if it was something you’d want to do? Like it’s a Navy thing and I didn’t think you’d want to go -”

“- Oh.” You glanced down and seemed to shrink in on yourself even though Bradley had his arms around your waist. “I mean, my boyfriend’s getting an award, seems like kind of a big deal - but it’s cool. I can - I can always see what the girls are up to that night, maybe see that new-”

Fuck. Shit. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to go, he just - shit - he tried to back track, but barely got a chance to get the words out. “- Sweetheart -” 

You shook your head and stepped out of his arms, leaving the invitation on the kitchen island. “It’s okay, really. I think I’m - I’m just gonna shower and get ready for bed. I have that early meeting tomorrow morning, so…”

It wasn’t even ten yet, but Bradley didn’t push it. He knew he had fucked up and you deserved to have some space to think things over. 

“Oh. Yeah, I’ll just finish cleaning up then?”

You paused to give him a kiss, which was far too brief for his liking, and dashed out of the kitchen. Once he was sure you were gone, he leaned his elbows on the kitchen island and then hung his head in his hands. God, he fucked up. He really fucked up.

In his attempt to not want you to be embarrassed of him, he had irreparably hurt your own feelings. He had made you feel less than. With a groan, he slapped his hands on the granite countertop and finished cleaning up.

The two of you didn’t fight often - was this a fight? He had really just fucked up, you hadn’t done anything. And even when the two of you did fight, it was normally over trivial stuff like not cleaning the stove correctly (which Bradley did not do) or sometimes not telling the other what time either of you would be home or when Bradley had offered to watch Fanboy’s dog for the weekend even though you were terrified of any dog over thirty pounds.

He should’ve just been honest with you from the start - he wanted to invite you, but he didn’t know if you would have been comfortable? Because, to be fair, events like these were sometimes even a little too gung-ho for Bradley and his friends - Hangman notwithstanding, the man loved to work a room like a drunken Kennedy, often saying you gotta network to get work, baby. 

Galas and other naval ceremonies were mainly for the old brass who were still into tradition and setting an example and having their wives fawn over them all night. It was all about the spectacle, not the actual service men or women they were honoring. Sure, it was nice to be getting an award for saving Maverick last November during the uranium enrichment plant mission - but that wasn’t why Bradley had done it. That was never why Bradley would do anything.

He did it because it was the right thing.

And right now, as much as it hurt him, it was the right thing to give you some space. 

You would both talk about it in the morning with fresh eyes and a good night’s sleep and Bradley would beg for you to forgive him for being so callous and unfeeling, even though his intentions had been good.

Once he finished cleaning up, he made sure the front and back door were locked before turning off all the lights and heading to his room. Figuring you were already in bed, he opened the door slowly, not wanting to startle you, only to find his bed empty. You were still in the shower. He glanced at the old fashioned alarm clock on his nightstand and frowned - you’d been in there for almost thirty minutes.

Bradley crossed the bedroom and opened the bathroom door, only to be greeted by a thick cloud of steam. The shower was still running, though he didn’t hear the telltale signs of you washing your hair or face. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“You okay in there?” he asked, stepping closer to the shower, itself. 

Just when he had been about to draw back the curtain, you called out: “Yeah, fine. My uhh - my shoulder just hurts. Wanted to keep it under the hot water for a bit.”

Your shoulder had never bothered you before. If anything, you were more prone to knee pain - a bad lacrosse injury in your youth sometimes flared up if you took too many classes a week on your Peloton. But not your shoulder.

“Okay. Well,” he stuttered, “I’m just gonna brush my teeth…” 

God, he sounded like an idiot. Why couldn’t he just go in there and tell you that he wanted you to come? That he wanted to dance with you all night, have you cheer him on as he accepted his award, see you sitting with Maverick and Penny and smiling at Bradley and talking with all his friends?

You took a moment to respond. “Okay, I’ll be out in a few.”

Fuck - did your voice sound thicker than normal? Were you crying? God, he really hoped you weren’t crying. Shit, now he was going to start crying.

Bradley stared longingly at the shower curtain while brushing his teeth. As much as it hurt, he had to give you some space, at least for now. But he couldn’t stop his own insecurities from popping up either; why was he so worried you wouldn’t love this other part of him? Why had he chosen to hide it from you, especially when getting the award actually did mean a lot to him?

He loved you. He loved you so much. 

And you loved him. You loved him so much.

With a sigh, Bradley spit the excess toothpaste in the sink, rinsing his mouth and then the porcelain bowl. He completed his basic nighttime skincare routine and then glanced around the bathroom, trying to prolong his time there. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed your pajama shorts and t-shirt neatly folded on top of the toilet tank. Before he even realized what he was doing, he hung them both up on the hooks next to your fluffy white towel, knowing you hated dripping water on the floor when you got out of the shower. He figured it was the least he could do; just something so you knew he was there.

He snuck out of the bathroom a moment later, shutting the door behind him with a click and then mindlessly went through the motions of putting on his pajamas and throwing his dirty clothes in the hamper. By the time he had gotten into bed, the shower had turned off and he sat up, leaning against the pillows, waiting for you. 

When you finally came out of the bathroom some twenty minutes later - only after he had turned the light off, mind you - Bradley noticed with a sinking heart, and even in the darkness, that your eyes were puffy, only confirming his suspicion that he had heard you crying in the shower. He felt like the world’s biggest asshole. Just as he had been about to say something - what he didn’t know - you wordlessly crawled into bed beside him and burrowed your face in his chest, wrapping your body around his. Your wet hair tickled his arm and he could smell your shampoo and complementary lotion.

Neither of you said anything, you just laid there, holding each other, listening to the rise and fall of each other’s breathing.

Eventually, you dropped off into a fitful sleep, but Bradley kept you close, idly running his hands through your hair, hoping tomorrow he would get the chance to explain himself.

---------

“What the fuck did you say to her?” 

Bradley turned around to face Phoenix and sighed at the expression on her face. “What did I say to whom and when?” 

He was being purposely difficult, but he had been in a mood all morning and lunch was currently the only thing getting him through the day. They were serving grilled cheese on that thick bread Bradley liked so much and tomato soup and he had been looking forward to it after leaving his lunch in the refrigerator at home - that was until Phoenix had ruined it with her interrogation.

You’d left before Bradley had even gotten up - a rarity in and of itself - texting him that you hadn’t liked the outfit you’d brought over for work that day and had to swing by your place to change before your eight thirty meeting with the east coast team. You hadn’t even woken him up for a kiss goodbye.

(However, you had texted him your Wordle score - 2/6. He still couldn’t figure out how you managed that with twang, but he figured that meant all hope wasn’t lost between the two of you.)

“Don’t be an ass. She called me this morning - yeah, she called me - asking me if the event I wanted a date for was the same awards gala you had been invited to or not? Said she wasn’t sure since mine sounded like a date thing and you hadn’t mentioned it. So, now I feel like an asshole because I’ve been talking to her about finding me a date for this thing, only to find out her own boyfriend hadn’t even invited her? The fuck, Bradshaw?”

The pit that had already been forming in Bradley’s stomach all morning only grew as Phoenix kept talking. “It’s not that I didn’t want to ask her, I just didn’t know if she’d want to go…” 

Phoenix looked at him like he had seven heads and stole his grilled cheese right off his tray. He grabbed another. “That’s bullshit. That girl adores you, Bradley, of course she would want to go! God, you should’ve fucking heard her on the phone, she sounded so sad and just - small, which is never a word I thought I’d use to describe her but...”

His stomach dropped. Small. You had felt small. Bradley had made you feel small.

“I didn’t want her to - I know she - look, I know she isn’t super keen on the whole Navy thing and I didn’t want her to have to pretend for my sake or put up with shitty comments all night or whatever.”

That one’s got quite a mouth on her.

“I don’t think you’re giving her enough credit.” As always Phoenix was right, repeating what Bradley had told himself last night. “Like I said, she adores you and I know she respects you, why else would she still be with you?”

She adores you and I know she respects you. He knew that stuff too - obviously - but sometimes it was nice to hear it from someone else. That someone else could tell how much you and Bradley meant to each other and loved each other even without seeing some of your most private and intimate moments - whether changing the sheets on Saturday mornings to preparing the next day’s lunch after dinner every night.

Little stuff like that. Stuff that made a relationship - that made a life together.

“...And I shouldn’t even have told you all that because she’s my friend, too. But you have to make this right.”

Phoenix’s words were said with an edge to them that Bradley had only heard once before. And it had been directed towards Hangman of all people. 

“We’re uhh - we’re talking tonight - well, we’re supposed to, but I don’t know if she’ll -”

A hand on his shoulder cut him off. “- It’s going to be fine, just be honest with each other.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, yeah,” he rambled. “Just be honest.”

Phoenix nodded, seemingly content with his response. They made their way over to an empty table and started eating. 

“Good,” she said through a mouthful of grilled cheese, “because I need to get some shoes for my dress and as much as I love Halo, she’s a DSW girl and I have some civvy to impress, so I need your girl’s help.”

Bradley chuckled. Though it went against protocol, the women had been granted leave of wearing their formal dress uniforms, provided they had the rest of their regalia pinned on a formal sash. When the change in protocol had first been announced while the team was at lunch, Phoenix had let out an uncharacteristic squeal at the news, citing that while you all - well some of you - look handsome in your formal dress uniform, it was definitely designed by a man who hated his female colleagues; so yes, I’m excited to wear a pretty dress for once.

It was sweet. She had been so excited that she had even asked Bradley and Halo for their opinion on her dress last week. He had, of course, thought it was well suited to her, but it had only worsened the pit in his stomach that he hadn’t told you about the gala yet. But maybe, to make up for not going dress shopping with her, you could discuss shoes with Phoenix. Provided you actually still did want to go to the gala with Bradley.

Once he groveled and all.

“I’m sure she’ll text you to make plans - provided she says yes and still wants to come with me,” he couldn’t help but mutter.

 Phoenix kicked him under the table and he let out a yelp. “Stop being annoying, your self deprecation is putting me off my lunch -”

“- The same lunch that you stole from me…” She glared at him. “Fine, I will try to keep the self deprecation to a minimum.”

“But the groveling should be at a maximum - hey, have you thought about going down on her until your old man knees crack - oww!”

It was his turn to kick her in the shin. “Oops, sorry…”

Bradley wasn’t old. Well, not that old that he was above subtly flipping Phoenix off for the rest of the day.

---------

Later that day, Bradley hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he saw your dark grey Q5 pull into his driveway around six-thirty. Over the course of your very brief text conversation after lunch, you had mentioned you’d be stopping by his place after work, but he hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up.

As it was, he had been waiting on his front porch - still in his work khakis - since getting home around five-forty-five. He watched you take a deep breath before turning your car off and then gradually make your way up to the house.

He noticed you didn’t close the final distance to where he was still standing on the front porch. And he also noticed you didn’t have your overnight bag in your hands. His heart dropped - god, he fucked this up so badly.

You gave him a hesitant smile, clasping your hands together at your stomach. You looked pretty in your work clothes. But you always looked pretty. 

Bradley cleared his throat. “Hey…”

“Hey…” you said, matching his tone. At least you were both a little nervous.

He said your name and then took the initiative to bridge the distance between the two of you and started down the steps to the front walk. “We should talk -”

“- Me first, please?” You rushed out and Bradley nodded hesitantly. 

You took a step towards him. “Look, I’m really sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have made it into such a big deal. Obviously, you had your reasons for not telling me and I shouldn’t have pushed and made you uncomfortable. I don’t know a lot about the Navy, but it seems like being up for an award is a really big deal and I just - I guess I just wanted to be there for you? 

“And I don’t - god, I don’t want you to be scared to bring me places or to meet your other friends because you think I’ll say something to embarrass you - so, I will happily support you from the sidelines that night, waiting at home for you with some champagne to celebrate.”

God, you were so wrong? How could you be so wrong? Fuck. You thought he was embarrassed of you? Clearly, you’d given this some thought, he had to have done it before. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Bradley placed his hands on your waist. And tried to catch your eye. 

“No, no. God, no. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Listen, I should be the only one apologizing here. I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable all night and - I don’t know, have to put up with all the Navy shit and everything? I saw how uncomfortable you were when you picked me up after the Speaker’s visit and I didn’t want you to have to go through that again at the gala. It’s a lot - even for me sometimes - and I guess I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable or embarrassed of me? But I wanted - I want you there with me. And I shouldn’t have taken the choice away from you just because I want to protect you.”

Because you asked questions. Most other people didn’t ask questions. They took the orders, did the job, and came home. There was nothing wrong with asking questions. It was just that other people really didn’t ask them. 

They knew that no matter what questions they asked or answers they received, that an order was still an order. So, your questions came off as probing and condescending without that necessarily being your intent. You were curious and critical when need be, sure. But Bradley would never classify you as condescending. Ever. 

You nodded and then tipped your head up to look at him, the beginning of a smile on your face, though you still seemed a little reserved.

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have…” He squeezed his hands around your hips. “But I was really - god, Bradley, you really hurt my feelings.

“I thought you were embarrassed of me or something? Like you didn’t want everyone to know your girlfriend is a stone cold pacifist or a bitch or - no, let me finish. And that really hurt because I love you - so much - and if something’s important to you, I want you to tell me and let me share it with you, no matter what.”

“Sweetheart - I was embarrassed, but not of you. I didn’t want you to have to - I don’t know, fake it through the entire thing and pretend like you’re -”

“- Bradley,” you said sternly, “I would never pretend to be excited for you.”

He sighed. “I know - I mean, I should’ve known that, but I guess I was just feeling insecure and took it out on you. It’s just - I like that with you, I don’t have to be all this,” he gestured down at his khakis, “Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw stuff and I can just be Bradley - which I know sounds dumb -”

“- It does not sound dumb, okay? You’re totally valid for what you’re feeling, just the same as I am, alright?”

His cheeks flushed, knowing you were right. “Yeah, I guess this award and all this top one-percent bullshit they throw at us just makes me feel like I’m someone I’m not sometimes? And with you I just feel like me?”

You gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “And that’s what I love about you, that you’re unabashedly yourself with me - weird stove cleaning routine and all. You’re my Bradley.”

He smiled and pulled you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his stomach in response, squeezing him tight. “And I love you and I want you to share all parts of yourself with me, alright? I’m a big girl, I can handle it - even though sometimes I still think you should just be an astronaut,” your voice came out slightly muffled against his chest.

“I love you, too.” You pulled back and he gave you a kiss on the forehead. “So,” he said your first and last name, “will you go to this slightly pretentious Navy gala with me and whisper snarky comments in my ear all night and dance with me until our feet hurt?”

You giggled, the action lighting up your entire face. “Yes, of course I will, Bradley.” He threw his arm around your shoulders and the two of you started making your way up the front steps, finally ending the free show Bradley had been giving his neighbors for the last few minutes. 

“Wait,” he said suddenly, “you didn’t bring a bag with you - do you still wanna…” He tried not to let the hurt show on his face. 

You tucked your hair behind your ears. “Oh, err - I actually just left it in the car…didn’t want to seem too eager if you didn’t actually want me to stay over…”

The two of you didn’t spend too many nights apart - baring when the other was traveling for work, but Bradley hadn’t even considered not wanting you to stay over that night - fight or no fight. In response, he wordlessly held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. A smile crept across your face and you got your car keys out of your dress pocket for him.

“Silly girl,” was all Bradley said before he unlocked your car and got your leather overnight bag and work tote out of the passenger seat. 

With his other arm thrown over your shoulder, the two of you made your way into the house. He handed you your tote before putting your overnight bag in his bedroom. When he was just outside the kitchen, he saw you leaning against the doorframe in the hallway waiting for him.

“You know, I do think you’ll look handsome in your uniform…”

Bradley smirked. He had only worn his dress blues around you once before, to say nothing about his formal dress blues. “That so…” 

You shrugged, clearly trying to come off as nonchalant. “Even though some may consider it a symbol of imperialism.”

“And there’s my girl.” You ducked your head. 

The two of you made your way to the kitchen and you let out a gasp once you saw what was on the island. 

“You got me flowers?” You sounded pleasantly surprised, which brought a smile to his face. You fingered the petals. “You didn’t have to…”

Normally, Bradley got you flowers just because. Just because he got out of work early that day or just because you looked particularly pretty the day before or just because you had made him laugh. Which is all to say, he got you flowers quite frequently. And he always kept track of when to get the next ones by slipping one stem out of the bouquet and keeping it in his office on base; if the flower in his office died, then it was time to get you some new ones. 

But the flowers sitting on his kitchen island - a gorgeous arrangement of white tulips and pink peonies - were most definitely apology flowers. Because Bradley had been an asshole and had made you cry and doubt him and feel less than. And he had made a promise to you after your first date that he would try his damn hardest to never make you feel less than ever again.

And while he knew flowers wouldn’t solve everything, they would surely bring a smile to your face and that was a pretty good start. The flowers had been why he couldn’t shower between training and his afternoon class - he had to dash out to get them.

“I might bring them to my office, that way I can stare at them all day.”

He walked over towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “You’re not gonna leave ‘em here? Kinda like how they look on my counter…”

“Hmmm, but this way I can think of you while I’m at work - oh, god no. Nevermind, that was corny as shit,” you finished with a grimace that had the two of you laughing. 

“You know, I never told you why I’m getting an award - or why I’m part of the group getting an award…”

You tensed beside him and he turned to face you. “So help me god, Bradley, if you’re getting an award for killing someone or endangering civilians in the name of god and country -”

“- Nah, that’s one of the other guys,” he teased and you leaned your forehead against his chest, letting out a groan. He was only slightly joking.

You leaned back to look him in the eye. “Well, what’s it for then?”

“You know that mission I originally got called back here for last November and how Mav and I made up?” You nodded, remembering the couple times Bradley had mentioned it. “Well, it was kind of a big deal -”

“- So you’ve told me…”

He probably shouldn’t have - classified information and all - but you had been impressed with him and it was the one time you had really leaned into the whole Navy thing - at least sexually. My hero, you kept calling him in an only slightly condescending manner while Bradley took you from behind.

“Well, I don’t think I told you the part where I may have gotten shot down after saving Mav and we had to steal a plane...”

“Wha-what?! Shot down? Like out of the sky? And you - you just said you guys got picked up by search and rescue after there was an issue with your planes?”

Bradley shrugged. He had told you stuff about work, like why he sometimes woke up with nightmares - you never pushed for him to tell you any details, though you always asked if he wanted to talk about it - and that he’d had a couple bad scrapes over the years. But he never told you too much about the uranium enrichment plant mission. 

It was six months before the two of you had even started dating, so Bradley never thought to bring it up. And he knew that if he ever wanted to open up and tell you about it or any other past deployments then you’d listen and be a good sounding board. But he didn’t want to sound like a whiner - or worse, that he was bragging. 

Bradley hadn’t gone back for Mav because he wanted the praise or an award or anything like that. He had done it because he loved him - plain and simple. He loved his godfather and couldn’t bear the thought that he had sacrificed his life for Bradley just as they were getting towards an understanding again. Because though he had originally said otherwise, there would be someone to mourn Maverick if he burned in - Bradley. 

The fact that Bradley had been projecting when he had originally said that to Mav was something he had only brought up with his therapist - and it would remain that way.

Because Maverick was the one who played catch with Bradley on the weekends and taught him how to drive and brought him up in a plane for the first time and told him how to talk to girls and that Bradley was good - that he was a good person and someone his dad would be proud of and respect not only as his son, but as a man, as well.

And that’s why what Maverick did hurt so much. Because Bradley thought Maverick respected him, as well. And to find out he didn’t and that he pulled his papers from the Naval Academy just proved that. Or at least it did. Bradley thought it did - had, he thought it had.

“Mav got between my plane and a SAM and got shot down and I wanted to go after him - it was like, I’d just gotten him back after eighteen years, I wasn’t going to lose him again - and I went against orders to go back and get him - which kinda makes this whole award thing a bit of a surprise - and then I got hit and we had to make our own way back to the carrier. So, yeah - Mav and I are getting an award for it. Bagman, too, actually.”

He kept the details of Hangman’s heroics out of it. Bradley had been content to let bygones be bygones about their whole rivalry thing and the two were amicable for awhile, but then Jake had insulted you, so they were back to being polite enemies. Plus, Jake had been on special assignment in Japan and Bradley hadn’t seen him in about five months.

“How could you think I wouldn’t be proud of you for that? Bradley, that’s - that’s fucking wild and a really amazing thing and we should definitely celebrate that? What the hell?” You lightly shoved his shoulder. He didn’t budge. “I’m kinda mad at you again, actually.”

“Oh, yeah?”

You nodded, trying to look serious. “Thought we were going to be more open with each other about stuff like that?”

“We literally just made the promise!” You shot him a teasing glare. “Fine, next time I save my godfather from enemy fire you’ll be one of the first to know.”

“That’s all I ask, bubs.”

He gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “Back to bubs, am I?”

“You’re always my bubs.”

The nickname had first slipped out when you had been dating for two months. It had snuck up on the both of you, like you hadn’t even realized what you were saying the first time: hey, bubs, can you get me my phone? Bradley instantly melted. 

Bubs.

It was so simple and stupid and probably didn’t even stand for anything, but he loved it. Loved hearing it fall from your lips, whether as you teased or taunted him or as you mumbled it against his skin in bed at night. 

Bubs. 

“You hungry? I have plenty of food in the fridge or we could get take out? Your call?”

You tapped your index finger against your chin. “Hmmmm, let’s do take out? Pad thai?”

He pretended to consider this while he kneaded his thumbs into your hips. “I could do pad thai…”

“You could also do with a shower, flyboy.” You kissed him, across his cheeks, on his nose, and up and down his jaw before settling on his lips. “You smell like your fancy cologne, but also like,” you leaned in to smell his shirt and scrunched your nose once you pulled back, “burnt rubber.”

Bradley made a similar face and pinched your hip causing you to giggle. “I flew this morning for a bit, but had a class this afternoon - hence all this…”

In response, you rolled your eyes and pushed him away slightly, going over to the other side of the island and getting out your phone. Bradley didn’t wear his khakis too often, but it wasn’t quite a practical class and therefore required more than his flight suit. 

“Well, I’m gonna order,” you tapped on your phone, “and it should be here by the time you get out of the shower.”

“Awww, you’re gonna pay for me?” He laid a hand on his chest.

You didn’t even look up. “Don’t read too much into it - I mean, if either of us should be paying, it should be you…”

“But sweetheart,” he leaned his elbows on the island and gave you a hammy smile, “you’re my sugar mo -”

In return, you shot him an unimpressed look. “- So help me god, if you finish that sentence, you’re not getting crab rangoon or sex tonight - you really shouldn’t get either, but you did get me flowers and were very sweet when you apologized - so don’t ruin it by saying…that.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll be quick.” He winked. 

“Aren’t you always….”

Bradley chose to ignore you, knowing he’d get you back later and made his way to his bedroom. He never was quick for the record. If anything you were the quick one - always babbling incoherently as you took his cock or fingers, desperate to cum from the slightest touch. 

He strode across his bedroom to the bathroom where he turned on the shower to let it heat up, preferring it to be nice and toasty when he hopped in. Then he went back out to the bedroom and stripped out of his clothes, neatly placing them in the hamper. By the time he finished and walked back into the bathroom naked, the shower was the perfect temperature. 

He stood underneath the spray for a few moments, letting the hot water wash over him and soothe his tense shoulder muscles. This week’s training had been absolute murder on his body - he’d gotten shot down twice earlier in the day and unfortunately Payback was still into that stupid pushup bet, even nearly a year later, and they’d pulled almost 10 G’s. 

Bradley rubbed his hands over his face and let out a groan. Fuck, he was getting old. While not nothing exactly, four hundred pushups normally wouldn’t have had this much of an effect on him, but fuck - he was sore.

And then, even over the stream of the water, Bradley could hear the bathroom door open. He turned his head, waiting for you to call out to him, to say that you were just washing your hands or had to pee or were getting some lotion. But you didn’t say anything. 

He stood there under the showerhead, under the steam waiting for what felt like eternity. And then - and then there was the rustle of clothing, and he heard that gorgeous, ruffly, flirty dress of yours fall to the floor and saw you pull back the curtain. Through the slight gap you looked up at him, eyes wide, as if scared he would turn you away. 

“Can I come in with you?” 

Without a word, he held his hand out for you, helping you step over the lip of the tub to stand in the shower beside him. For a while, the two of you just stood there, taking the other in as your hair got wet underneath the spray.

“Here,” you reached over his shoulder to get his bottle of shampoo off the caddy, “let me.”

Bradley watched you flip the cap off and squirt some shampoo into your hands. You jutted your chin in his direction, which he took as his queue to lean over slightly so you could reach. 

“Your hair’s gotten lighter in the sun,” you said mildly, before lathering some shampoo through it. Your fingers kneaded at his scalp and he let out a sigh. 

The two of you didn’t do this too often. Sure, Bradley would normally sneak up on you in the shower as you were finishing up or you’d both clean the other off after having sex every now and then. But this was different. This was intimate and tender and raw. 

He could feel you styling his hair into some sort of half-assed mohawk. “Do I want to know how ridiculous I look?” You giggled. “Think I’ll take that as a no. Just wait till I get my hands on you, missy.”

“I wish you’d get your hands on me. This is about the least sexy shower I’ve ever taken…”

“Then tell me what you want?”

You bit your lip and then glanced down at the rest of his body as he did the same. God, you were so gorgeous and pretty and soft and wet. So fucking wet. 

You cupped his cheek, gliding your thumb over the scar he hated so much, and then leaned forward to kiss it briefly. Without wasting another moment, Bradley groaned your name against your ear, before chasing a droplet of water down your neck with his lips. He wanted to follow it all the way down your chest, over your breasts, across your stomach, down to your cunt that he knew was wet from reasons beyond the shower you were currently sharing, but instead you tipped his chin up to capture his lips in a kiss. 

All too soon, you pulled back and grabbed the showerhead to rinse the shampoo out of his hair. “Hmmmm - first, we gotta get you clean, sick of you smelling like planes…”

Bradley tilted his head back as you worked. “No, I’ll just smell like that fancy shampoo and soap you forced me to buy.”

“I did not force you, I only said I would not shower at your place if these were my only -”

“- But you knew the prospect of limited sex at my house would make me cave, hence you forced my hand to buy this thirty dollar shampoo and the conditioner.” 

The annoying part was that it smelled really good and Bradley’s hair had never felt softer or healthier, but he’d be damned if he told you that. Bob and Fanboy had even made fun of him for it once.

You raked your fingers through his now sud free hair. “Well, it still beats the Head and Shoulders crap you used to buy.” You hung the showerhead back up and then got the loofah off the hook before lathering it up with the bougie soap that Bradley had also bought last week and started cleaning him. 

Bradley reckoned he really loved you if he was spending this much on shower products - probably too much to be honest. But his thoughts strayed to the way your hands were roaming over seemingly every part of his body that he forgot all about overpriced bar soap. You looked so focused as you worked, your tongue peeking out from between your lips. Your breasts dangled free as you crouched in front of him, causing his already half hard cock to rise fully. He needed to touch you - now.

“Here, my turn…” 

He took the loofah from your hands and briefly rinsed it and himself off before putting more soap on it. The showerhead went back up in the bracket. He started first with your shoulders and back, watching the suds drip lower as they got to your ass, making for the prettiest sight. Next, he worked his way up and down your arms, placing the occasional butterfly kiss, before lathering them up. Then came the legs - placed one at a time on the lip of the tub so he could get from the apex of your thighs all the way down to your ankles. 

“Bradley…” you kept sighing his name throughout.

But then - then came his favorite part. Or parts, really. 

“Turn around,” he said gruffly. 

You complied, wordlessly, putting your back against his front. You sighed against him and he pulled you even closer. Slowly, he rubbed the loofah across your breasts, caking them in soap suds and watching as your nipples hardened with each pass. 

“Such a pretty girl.”

Your back arched, jutting your breasts out to attention, as the remnants of the soap Bradley had just lathered across them slid down your body. 

God, he loved soapy tits. Next time he was on a deployment, he was just going to ask you to send him pictures of your breasts lathered in soap suds. Soft and pretty and wet. One arm underneath them pushing them up slightly.

Fuck, he could get lost just staring at them. The soap made them look even bigger than normal, if that was possible - and all he wanted to do was play with them. While his hands were large, your tits were still too big for him to grasp one handed, but he tried to make do while his other hand laid firmly against your stomach, pressing your body against his. You wiggled your ass against his cock, forcing a moan out of you both. 

Bradley was getting sick of it - of you teasing him. With your soapy tits and soft skin and pretty fucking smile. He wanted to tease you, make you be at his mercy. Put the proverbial shoe on the other foot, if you will. Slowly, he slowly slid his hand down your stomach, closer and closer to your cunt. You let out a whine when he stopped his fingers just before they got to his intended target - he had an idea.

Instead, he reached up and grabbed the showerhead with his right hand, taking it off the bracket and bringing it over towards the two for you. He started first rinsing off your shoulders, then your arms, breasts, and stomach. Until finally, he turned down the water temperature and placed the showerhead where his fingers were teasing you moments ago. Your body practically jumped at the sudden sensation. 

“Bradley…” you sighed, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “Wha -”

“- Shhhh, s’alright.” He started you off slow, at a lighter speed, just enough to rile you up and keep you wanting more. Once he got comfortable with maneuvering the showerhead, coupled with holding you against him, he really started to have some fun. First, he propped one of your legs back up on the lip of the tub. Then, he kept moving the showerhead to different lengths away from you, watching to see how you reacted each time. And by the blissed out expression on your face, he could tell he had you right where he wanted you.

“Bradley,” you sighed prettily, “Please…”

He clicked his tongue. “Please what?”

“Plea-please, oh god…” You let out a moan when he changed the setting. “I - can you - I want -”

You couldn’t even get your words out as Bradley spread your pussy lips wider, the jets of water hitting all the right places. You moaned his name. Every time he pulled the shower head away for even a moment, you chased it back with your hips. Again and again and again he repeated the action until you were whimpering in his arms. 

Bradley loved hearing you babble. He loved when you talked smart to him and sassed him. But he really liked when you babbled incoherently. Because to have you - the smartest, wittiest, most capable girl he knew - be unable to form any words because you were so lost in him was the hottest thing in the world.

“What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Wanna cum, please. S’close.” You were squirming against him, so desperate to find your release. 

“You gonna be my good girl?”

You whined, but managed to nod and just barely reply: “Always - good - ohhh.”

Bradley hummed. “But good girls don’t cum from a showerhead playing with their clit, now do they…” 

This time a cry escaped your lips. All he’d have to do was say a few more words, angle the jet just right and you’d crumpled in his arms. So warm, so tight, so wet. He slid a finger, then another inside you and you squealed. 

“Thought you were gonna be my good girl -”

“- Ple - promise I - ahhh.” He crooked his fingers inside you, cutting off whatever you had been about to say.

“Hmmm,” he nipped at your neck, “too bad you’re acting like such a little slut, clenching around my fingers so hard, don’t know if you deserve to come…”

To further vex you, he turned up the pressure one final time with his thumb - he was oddly impressed with himself for doing it one handed, but the vice grip you had his fingers in made him loathe to remove them, even if it would make you beg for them back. Once the new speed of the jet hit your clit, you cried out and keened. 

“Bra - Bra - bubs, please, please,” you babbled, not stopping until his teeth dug into your neck. You always complained about him leaving marks, but tonight he was allowed. “Wanna - ple - plea - oh, oh, oh…”

He changed the angle on the shower head one final time and you came with a cry. It was hard to tell if you were louder than normal or if it was due to the echo from the shower, itself. Your body buckled against his, like your legs had given out.

“Shh, shhh, good girl, that’s my good girl,” Bradley muttered, this time pressing butterfly kisses to your neck and shoulder. “Such a good girl for me.”

Slowly, and with a whimper from you, he pulled his fingers out of your cunt, before he rinsed them and you off with the shower head. You could hardly take it, still overstimulated and working through the end of your orgasm. 

As you were still a little unsteady on your feet, Bradley carefully turned you around to face him, and the two of you got used to being under the stream of the water again. He tipped up your chin just slightly and captured your lips in a kiss. 

“You good, sweetheart?” 

You nodded, still a little dazed after your orgasm. Bradley always found it endearing that you always got a little sleepy after you had an orgasm or two. Well, maybe not endearing - he took it as an ego boost even though it was a bit primal of him - but it was always good to know how well he took care of you.

“No one’s ever made me come from a showerhead before - at least not like that…”

“Who else has done that?” He couldn’t help the little flare of possessiveness that spread through him. 

You tucked your wet hair behind your ears and focused on the scar on Bradley’s neck. “Me - in high school and college before I got my first vibrator…”

Bradley exaggerated a gasp. “You dirty girl. You think you know a person and then you find out she’d been fucking herself on a showerhead after studying for AP Euro every night...”

“Guys have it easier, all you need is your hand - or a sock.” To convey your point, you grasped his aching cock with your left hand. “Want me to take care of that for you?”

He pretended to consider this, but knew he was about a minute from spending himself on you. “Can I cum on your tits?”

You bit your lip in thought before you nodded. “You can even fuck them as long as you clean them off when you’re done, but I don’t know if that’s more of a reward for me or for you, lieutenant…”

Bradley groaned. Fucking your soapy tits? Jesus Christ. He really didn’t deserve you. Even such - “You know it’s lieutenant commander…”

You started stroking his cock, your hands already plenty wet and lubricated from the shower. “Doesn’t roll off the tongue quite as nicely.”

Fucking brat. 

“On your knees, sweetheart.”

By the time you two had finished, the water had run cold and your Postmates had sat on Bradley’s front porch for forty five minutes.

---------

Both exhausted from long weeks at work, the two of you spent the weekend together hanging out at your place, watching movies, cooking dinner, and swimming in your building’s skyline pool. While Bradley did love how homey his place was, he couldn’t help but be a little envious of the amenities in your high rise. 

It was nice to just have time together - especially after such an emotionally and physically exhausting week - and to go to bed early and wake up late, wrapped in each other’s arms, and plan out the day. 

Because there was something so inherently satisfying in the domesticity of running errands with someone and combining your routine with theirs. After swimming and reading in the sun on Saturday, you both spent that evening finishing the HBO show you had been binging. You shared a cart at Whole Foods, knowing you’d both eat all the food inside of it together anyways. Bradley picked out snacks he’d want at your apartment and you picked out the ones you’d want at his. You got fresh strawberries at the farmer’s market in Little Italy for him to make strawberry shortcake for dessert Sunday night. 

It was nice. It was easy. 

But whenever you weren’t focused on each other, you had either your phone or iPad out - sometimes both - looking at dresses. It seemed like you had a ready arsenal of websites at your disposal - department stores, e-commerce sites, everything. Yet, by Sunday afternoon, you still hadn’t found a dress to your liking. You were sitting at the kitchen island watching Bradley make dinner and he was now progressing along to prepping dessert. 

“Don’t women rent dresses for stuff like this? Like that’s a thing, isn’t it?”

“Like Rent the Runway?” That sounded right and he shrugged. “I’m not going to wear a rented dress!”

Bradley chuckled at your response. “My apologies for suggesting something so egregious.”

You propped your chin up in your palm. “I bet you $10 I’ll be able to pick out five of them at the gala.”

“Sweetheart, you’re looking at,” he glanced over at your screen, seeing the shoes you were thinking of buying, “eleven hundred dollar shoes, I think you can afford to bet more than $10.”

“I’m gonna wear them again!” He held his hands up in surrender. “I don’t know - I just want to look nice. I know it’s important and I haven’t really met a lot of these people before and I want them to like me,” you said, sounding increasingly shy. Your fingers idly swiped across the screen of your iPad and you refused to meet his eye. 

Bradley put down the paring knife and wiped his strawberry stained hands on his apron. He said your name and you glanced up at him a moment later. 

“Everyone’s going to love you, alright? Nat and Mav already do and I know the rest of the team will feel the same way - hell, you already met most of them before and that wasn’t so bad, right?”

“No,” you admitted. 

Granted, it hadn’t been flawless per se, but drinks and the dinner party you’d both thrown had gone relatively well, baring the incident with Harvard. Luckily, Bradley hadn’t seen him since then - he’d been on the same assignment as Hangman. 

Bradley walked over to the other side of the island and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You leaned back against him and peered up at him. 

“And if for some ridiculous reason they don’t like you - which they won’t - fuck ‘em. You’re my girlfriend and I want you there beside me, alright?”

“Okay…” 

He started rocking you back and forth in his arms. God, how could you not see that you were all he wanted? That you were perfect for him?

“You’re going to look beautiful in whatever dress you decide on and whatever stupidly expensive shoes you wear - that I’m sure will make Nat unfathomably jealous - and you’re going to be wonderful.” You giggled. “See, it’s gonna be fine - and if you want to leave at any time, just say the word and we’re out of there.”

You twisted around to face him. “I’m not gonna make you leave early…”

“Sweetheart, like ninety percent of this event is going to be networking, which you know I hate more than you do, it won’t be that great of a loss.”

“True,” you considered this, “but you said there’s dancing and stuff?”

“Yeah, after dinner.”

“Then we’ll just do that,” you said simply. “I’ve never danced with you before anyway.”

He exaggerated a gasp and you smiled. “Do our kitchen dance parties mean nothing to you?”

“You know what I mean.” You got up from the stool and stood in front of him, putting your hands on his chest. “Like in front of other people, all formal and stuff?”

“And stuff?” You glared at him. “Well, since you wanna dance all formal and stuff, maybe we should practice?”

Without waiting for a response, Bradley went back over to the other side of the island and swiped through his phone until he pulled up the song he was looking for on Spotify. The ELO song from the speaker abruptly cut out and transitioned into Begin the Beguine. 

Your nose scrunched in thought as you tried to place the song, but you still took Bradley’s hand when he offered it to you. 

“Ella Fitzgerald, good choice.” He spun you out and got a giggle from you. “You’re too smooth, lieutenant.”

Once the chorus hit, he dipped you for good measure and - god - the smile on your face made him feel about ten feet tall. The two of you eventually settled down from your more ambitious dance moves to just swaying in each other’s arms. You looked up at him suddenly. 

“I love you, you know?”

Bradley never got tired of hearing you say that. I love you. He’d heard it and said it before, but it never had carried as much weight as when he had heard it from you for the first time. I love you. 

And Bradley knew that you were going to be the only person he ever said it to again.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.” 

He bent down to kiss you, pulling your body as close to his as possible. You whined in protest when he eventually pulled away and he chuckled.

“Don’t you want dinner?” As if on queue, the chicken pot pie Bradley had cooking in the oven let out a hiss as the filling hit the broil element. “Don’t want another shrimp risotto incident…”

“That was not my fault - okay, maybe it wasn’t all my fault…”

Bradley pressed a kiss to your forehead and begrudgingly let go of you. “Well, I gotta check this before your apartment almost burns down - again. Be a real pity if you had to stay at my place from now on…”

“Oh god, the horror! I’d be stuck with you all the time!”

You said it jokingly, but Bradley could tell you weren’t entirely opposed to the idea. 

Neither was he. 

---------

A/N: oh damn oh damn they’re so fucking cuuuuuute ahhh anyway full gala events - including some fun lil angsty moments - ft. mr jake seresin and a special guest 🫣 - and of course more smut (and dancing so much dancing) - coming soon in part 2.2 🥰

Taglist: @sunderlust @seasonsbloom @ticklish-leafy-plant @ponyboys-sunsets @lass-that-is-gone @2fabul0us4 @daniellef89x @double-j @hufflepuffprincesse @bradshawswife @cloudycluster @thedarkinmansfield @sithbelova @mavencalorers @fav-rooster-fics @thebeautifullydamnedone @unordinare @callsign-valley @pricklepearbloom @browneyedboys @cherrycola27 @whatblogisthis216 @agentofkrypton @lcahwriter @kyliesalvatore @noellreadfiction @coyotesamachado @heartsofminds @jocsrecs @notroosterbradshaw @milessmilesstuff @smokey102 @roosterschanelslut @iblogtopassthetime @karateperson @nessrin @frenchtoastix @piceous21 @princessphilly @notanordinaryprincess95 @spideyngwen @mrsjobarnes @calmpunker @softspiderling @softspiderlingmain @feralforfrank @fivsecondsflat @theghost1345 @sexualparkour @greenorangevioletgrass @howdysebby @sexygaypalpatine @moonyscardigans @carousallie @liveholland @supernaturaldawning @melancholyy-hill @whisperofsong @currentlybradshaw @summ3rlotus @seesaw-jk @cool-ultra-nerd @roostereads @oababy @milestomaverick @some-lovely-day​ @steadfastconviction​ @victoria-magic-tribute​ @gothicwidowsworld​ @lexhalstead3​ @unstablecaffeinatedmind​ @obsessedasusual​ @zombiedeathsworld​ @sydneyhlove​ @tellergf​

[thatweirdnoiseat3am]

I know when 2.0 in HSR started many people were expecting Sunday to be the mastermind behind everything, but now that I finally finished 2.1 I just see this incredibly tired guy whose sister was murdered, and he can't even properly grieve or search for the killer, because outwardly he has to pretend everything is fine

Death doesn't exist in the dream after all... right?

[jxst-m4kiii]

ƒαℓℓєη αηɠєℓ

Sunday x gn!reader

↳Genre: Angst

↳Warning: 2.1 STORY QUEST SPOILERS!!!

↳Format: One-shot

↳Word-count: 350

↳A/n: Hah... I'm coping. Hard. Also this is more of a warm up for my writing? A terrible first to upload but here we are. Hope I can get this rust off my fingers and craft some goodies in the future.

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: Oh Ana by Mother Mother.

"NO! No! Nonononono-!"

Your voice echoed through the big room as you ran, you ran as fast as you've ever ran, and yet, it wasn't enough. It killed him. You kneeled where your beloved had been, now only liquid remained. Your hands, vision and voice were shaky, tears already willing up in your eyes. He had... he had just died, hadn't he? Just like Robin, and by the same thing as Robin... Your gaze lifted as the man who called himself 'Gallagher' clapped, standing up and walking right past you, a cigarette in his mouth.

"My oh my... Another one down, huh? Hehe. I bet you wish you had figured it out sooner, hm?"

His words made your blood boil. How dared him? Yes you and Sunday had made up lists of suspects for a possible traitor in the family... but a man who had features of all of them was certainly not one of the suspects.

"What did you do... Give me my partner back-!"

Your words fell on deaf ears as he walked out, laughing, which only served to make your blood boil hotter. You grew desperate, remaining kneeled on the ground as you racked your brain for what to do. You weren't as intelligent as Sunday, yet you still had your fair share of witts. So, surely you'd be able to come up with something, right? ..Right? Nothing. Your emotions were too much of a wreck for you to think clearly. What else did you have left? Nothing. This dreamscape had taken too much from you. Your friend and beloved's sister and now your beloved too. What else could it take from you? Your life? You wouldn't doubt it.

You managed to get up, albeit with tears clouding your vision and difficulties breathing. You felt the panic finally settle in, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gripped your hair, pulling at it. You felt like you were losing it... and you probably were. You knew you had to finish what he had started, make him and THEM proud.

You would get to the bottom of this.

Made by: @jxst-m4kiii. Please do not repost or claim as your own. All credits for the pictures to their respective owners.

[jessamine-rose]

˚˖ ࣪ ⊹.°˖˚ A Candlelit Dinner ˚˖°.⊹ ࣪ ˖ ˚

Aka “Jessamine makes her cannibalism debut ft. La Signora after sharing too many crack ideas with @beloved-blaiddyd” (*-`ω´- )ﻭ✧

Tw:: yandere, cannibalism, Stockholm Syndrome, offscreen death, 2.1 spoilers

♡ 1.1k words under the cut ♡

You aren’t allowed to attend your wife’s funeral.

Truthfully, it doesn’t surprise you. The world broke Rosalyne’s heart when it took the life of her previous lover, and so she refused to take a gamble with you. Anything to guarantee your safety, to ensure that you’d always be there to welcome her home.

It’s strange. The manor has always been peaceful during her missions, but the silence is stifling in La Signora’s eternal absence. The servants are gloomy; your hobbies feel tedious; and time freezes to an endless monotony of lamentation.

You don’t know what to do with your freedom. How long ago did you cease your prayers and find comfort in Rosalyne’s love? When did you start calling your prison a home?

A few weeks after the funeral, your handmaiden suggests a trip to the city for a change of pace. Such an invitation is unheard of, but the rules mean nothing without the looming threat of the Fair Lady’s rage. She likely pities you.

Instead, you take a short walk around the manor. The Snezhnayan winter is colder this year, or perhaps you’ve grown too accustomed to Rosalyne’s warmth.

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ

The kitchen was where you fell in love with Rosalyne.

Cooking was your favorite way to spend time together. It required patience, harmony, a mutual trust with knives and fire.

In those moments of domesticity, she was neither the Fair Lady nor the Crimson Witch of Flame. She was just Rosalyne, your self-proclaimed wife who sang while she worked and adjusted recipes to your personal tastes. She was in charge of the seasonings, courtesy of her time in Sumeru which provided an informal education in sugar and spices.

Once the meal was ready, the two of you would proceed to the dining table. She’d sit across from you and light the candelabra with a graceful flick of her fingers, flames blooming atop of pure white wax. Only then could you admire her fire without a modicum of fear.

During her missions, Rosalyne would purchase gifts for you. Most of the time, she came home with special ingredients to use in your cooking dates. Seafood from Morepesok, wine from Mondstadt, Jueyun chilis from Liyue, and so on.

You haven’t set foot in the kitchen since Rosalyne’s death. Neither do you eat at the dining table; you tell the servants to bring your meals to your room.

You can only manage a few bites before you grow sick of the dull taste in your mouth.

ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ

Rosalyne’s final gift is a spice blend from Inazuma.

It is delivered a month after her funeral, a fancy box filled with little porcelain jars. Each jar is beautifully crafted, painted with crimson roses and butterflies.

Your wife’s subordinates won’t look you in the eye. In a rehearsed tone, they inform you that prior to her death, La Signora had made a bulk purchase of shichimi togarashi. The containers were custom-made, hence the delay in their arrival.

“The Fair Lady was adamant that you receive this gift, no matter the circumstances. We ask that you honor her final wish and enjoy this spice blend in your future meals.”

How did you respond? Was it a halfhearted nod or a few words of gratitude? All you remember is your walk from the foyer to the kitchen, shelves and countertops cleared, the porcelain chill of each jar as you pick them up and display them on every flat surface.

You once told Rosalyne that your kitchen could use more color. It appears that she took your request to heart.

The sun sets as you finish the task. At this hour, Rosalyne would be home and the two of you would begin the kitchen prep. What was your first meal together?

It was steak served with potato roses. Back then, you suggested potato roses out of a fearful desire to please her.

The meal takes longer to prepare. The chef offers their assistance but you refuse, taking out ingredients and cutting them with your familiar knife. The potatoes only need butter and a few seasonings, but the steak…you think you’ll try the shichimi.

You open a jar and scoop out a small portion of shichimi. It is a fiery shade of orange, likely from the chili pepper. The powdered spices are mixed with aonori, peppercorns, sesame seeds—what are those coarse, gray particles?

Maybe it is an ingredient native to Inazuma.

The steak is marinated. Your attention shifts back to the potatoes, the slices arranged in a rosette pattern. It takes a while; Rosalyne was always better at this.

After the potato roses are baked, the steak is seared. You almost overcook it—you always cooked Rosalyne’s first, and the two of you preferred different levels of doneness—but it’s salvaged at the last second. Then you arrange the food on your plate, recalling Rosalyne’s plating techniques. She knew how to make a meal look so pretty, so appetizing…

You bring your plate to the dining table. The chair in front of you is empty, and the candelabra is unlit. A servant lights the candles in Rosalyne’s place, but his flames are dimmer and he doesn’t pay attention to your reaction.

You pick up your knife and cut into the steak.

It looks normal, with a bloody center. You cut a small piece, stab it with your fork, and bring it to your mouth.

It tastes…unique.

There is the spiciness of the chili pepper, the sweetness of the citrus peel, umami from the other spices. But there are other flavors—bitter, metallic, smoky. You’re not quite sure if you like it.

Yet you can’t help but take another bite. And another. Another one, with the potato roses. Before you know it, your mouth is trembling and your vision is blurring. Through a veil of tears, you notice that your plate is already half-empty.

You stand up and return to the kitchen, ignoring the servants’ questions. Instead, you come back with the crimson-painted jar and add another spoonful of shichimi to your steak.

Now there’s too much seasoning. But you don’t mind; you mix it into the potato roses and continue eating, savoring the complex flavors.

How was Rosalyne in her final days? You can imagine her in an Inazuman market, looking for the perfect gift for her spouse. The smile on her face as she approved the shichimi and spoke with an esteemed craftsman. The moment of her death—How much pain was she in? Did her flames leave a mark on the Tenshukaku? Did she think of you?

It’s just like her to ensure that you’ll never despair over a bland meal, even in her death.

It almost feels as though she is still with you.

♡

…….Don’t ask me how a few DMs turned into 1.1k words bc idk either. And cheers to my Google history going from “spice blends” to “togarashi steak recipe” to “cremated ashes texture” to “what do ashes taste like” ^^;

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed my tribute to La Signora!! Thanks again to Brynlee for this tasty idea, and may Hoyoverse not kill off the other Fatui Harbingers ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

[ai-luni]

You are everything good in this world

Peter Ballard/Henry Creel/001 x fem!reader 

Series Masterlist, Part 2.1

Word count: 8.2k

Summary: You are an innocent, naive nurse fresh out of school when you receive a job offer in which you think you’ll get to help young orphaned children. Instead you dig a little too deep and find the horrid truths of your work with the help of an orderly who calls you everything good in this world. 

Warnings: Literally everything... Peter himself, Dr Brenner himself, Violence, torture, a spider, swearing, slut shaming, smut 18+, overstimulation, toxic traits, gaslighting, ANGSTY TRAGIC ENDING, bad writing 

A/N: I’m not a writer and I know most of these tropes have already been written about but I started this when I finished vol 1 and needed to finish for myself. My writing is purely self indulgent so it’s a little bit of a self insert, i hope someone can enjoy it anyway. I’m gonna dip now :)

1978

You were young, keen and fresh out of nursing school when you received an offer from a job in a little town called Hawkins, Indiana. It was a good offer - too good to be true - with in house accommodation and the chance to aid young orphaned children. Or so you were told. You found it ironic how your big adventure and journey of self discovery led you to a small town instead of a big city. You weren’t any less excited about it however.

Arriving at the lab, you were taken aback. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it really wasn’t this. Everything was so sterile and closed off. Many floors were strictly off limits, every door beyond the reception desk needed an ID pass and you greatly struggled to picture how this was a place to help children.

You were on a 6 week work trial before you could move in to be the inhouse nurse. You were staying at the motel in Hawkins for the time being. The thought of moving into that building gave you chills at night but you were excited for these new experiences (and on your first night, very excited to meet the children), however something about that place felt off.

You were given a tour of the building on your first day, meeting the medical wing staff and Dr Brenner himself. He explained to you that this lab was not a usual institution for children or just any children for that matter. But special children, the most special he has ever seen for that matter. He went on to apologise for the trial period, they need to ensure you are in fact the kind of person they are looking for and that they can ensure your trust and confidentiality. 

You asked when you’d get to meet the children and all you were given in response was “In due time.” From then on your tour continued, showing you the living quarters and work space you’d be granted access to as well your uniform of a white blouse, white pencil skirt and nurse’s cap - clean black heeled shoes were advised for appearances although not mandatory, however you learnt quickly with a guy like Dr Brenner, it was never wise to never go against his wishes.

It was the end of your first week when you finally met the orderly staff that supervise the children. They all held pleasantries very well and were lovely company. You were invited to join a few to the cafeteria for their lunch time break, to which you graciously accepted. Though they laughed at your jokes, you found many took themselves too seriously.

There was one however that piqued your curiosity. He did not speak to you that day, nor for any of the weeks during your trial period, but you saw him often. Like you were being shown a sign - he was always leaving the cafeteria when you were entering and passing you in the hallways in the mornings by your office door. He was tall, bright, blond and sympathetic looking. You wanted to hear his voice. You often wondered after seeing him if his voice was in fact as gentle and kind as he looked or boyish and playful or maybe even the complete opposite of how he looked: dark and cold.

It wasn’t until your final week during your trial did you meet one of the children. You were sitting in your little office bay as usual when you heard a knock on the door. Looking up, you saw the tall, blond boy dressed all in white walk in with a little girl holding his hand.

“Good morning Miss L/N. I understand you’re still on your trial period but thirteen here has hurt her hand and would like a bandage.” You nodded trying to conceal the fact that your thoughts were racing for the sake of professionalism. It was gentle and kind, his voice was gentle and kind.

Patting the bed next to you for the little child to sit, you retrieved the little stash of band aids from under your desk. Now ducking down to be eye level with the little girl whose legs dangled off the bed, you decided - as your actual first encounter with a child - you’d try your best to make her like you.

“I'm a nurse Y/N, what’s your name?” you said in a soft tone, perhaps coming off like you were talking to a baby.

“Thirteen.” She replied in a weak tone, to which you thought she was joking. After a silent moment of no follow up you turned to the orderly who stood next to the door, legs apart, arms behind his back and nodding at you with a smile. You hear him hiding a small chuckle and return your attention to the child in front of you trying to seem unfazed at the possibility that this child’s name is thirteen. Thirteen lifts her palm to show you a small cut.

“Oh dear, how did this happen?” You say softly, focusing more on gently applying the band aid to the little girl’s hand.

“Papa says I’m not allowed to say.” You looked at the child’s face again, clearly failing to hide how foreign this moment felt. ‘Papa?’ barely left your lips in a sigh before realising perhaps she meant Dr Brenner. Smiling again you set her free to go, to which she jumped off the bed and back to grab the boy’s hand. You completely forgot he was standing there but the intensity of his stare towards you accompanied by the smile on his face made your ears feel red hot.

“Thank you Nurse Y/N” the boy says, a smile growing wider than leading the child out of the room.

“Congratulations on passing your trial period Y/n. We’ve decided you are exactly the kind of person we are looking for and I’ll be sure to send someone to help you with your things, you need not worry.” Dr Brenner greeted you in the reception doors with these words as you entered with your things in multiple bags and cases, “It is time you finally meet the children.

He led you to ‘The Rainbow Room’ whoch you have heard of quite a bit but never got to see inside. When you entered, Dr Brenner called attention to all of the children and lined them up in front of you. The room was exactly like the rest of the building, sterile white tiles, fluorescent lights and no windows. It wasn’t exactly the place you’d want to let a child grow up in but the decorations and the toys scattered around made it a little more bearable and warm.

One by one Dr Brenner told you the numbers of each child, desperately trying to hide your astonishment at the fact all of the children were named after numbers. And there were so few children there too. It was then that Dr Brenner’s words of “not just any child” really started to sink in. What was so special about these children that they had to have their names taken away?

“Children, say hello to our new Nurse, Nurse Y/N.” Dr Brenner announces to the children.

“Hello Nurse Y/N.” The children responded in a collective bored and wavering tone. You examined the children from across the room, looking at their young eyes, some mischievous, some bright and others plain scary. You saw little thirteen that you treated yesterday, she smiled brightly while showing you the band aid still on her palm. You gave a small wave back. This adorable interaction completely making your day.

In the early weeks of moving in, you rarely interacted with people throughout the day. You found friends with some of the orderlies and reception staff however conversations with them are quick and only pleasant at best. Most days Dr Brenner would come by once to check on how you are fairing; once a week you may have someone actually come into the sick bay for treatment.

It was a Tuesday morning when you entered your office to find the tall, blond orderly sitting on the side of the bed, back slumped over and his head resting in his hands. He hadn’t heard you come in and for the brief moment when you caught him off guard, you noticed how intimidating his stare was. Usually when you saw him, he held the sweetest puppy dog eyes but this morning he looked troubled and almost angry.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” You questioned quietly, not to startle him too much. You startled him very much which startled you and brought your hand to your chest trying to laugh it off.

“Good morning.” he gave you a sheepish little smile as an apology. You returned it with an understanding one. Getting your gear ready for the day around the desk, you started to question him.

“Is there anything I can help you with this morning, mr?”

“Ballard, Peter Ballard.” He replied in his boyish way.

“You’ve called me by my name for months now and I didn’t even know yours,” you joked before returning to the task at hand, “Now what seems to be the problem?”

You treated Peter of a suspicious burn on his wrist that morning, reinforcing the common phrase that circulates this building of ‘Papa says I’m not allowed to say.’ The word ‘papa’ coming from Peter’s lips however sounds more ironic and bitter than from the children. You were told not to question ‘Papa’.

That morning - though awkward - opened a gateway to a new friendship and perhaps even a little crush on your behalf. One of which you tried to tuck away as Dr Brenner would not be too pleased about workplace relationships. You learnt many things about the boy, his favourite things - colours, foods, hobbies, etc. You connected with him about certain things like the children and complained about Dr Brenner. He’d confide in you about how this building was starting to feel like a prison and you somehow managed to get Peter to tell you about his nightmares and help him understand those nights.

You’d often catch and talk to Peter at meal times or if he brings a child into or is just passing your office. He started to take the longer route to certain rooms just to stop by your office and ask if you needed anything which then turned into any free time he had being spent in your office if there were no other children or staff in there.

He sat on the bed in your office waiting for you to finish some paperwork before engaging in conversation. More often than not, he’d prefer to wait and work alongside you rather than awkwardly waiting in any other public space on this floor. His eyes wandering around the room, he spots the remnants of a web in the cover of the room, finally catching your attention when he ventures over to investigate.

“What’s wrong Peter?” You speak, looking up once you finish the sentence you were writing. He didn’t respond, walking further to the corner of the room. Naturally you got up to see what he was doing, this was odd behaviour for him and you weren’t sure if you should be concerned or flattered that he may just feel more comfortable with you to treat your office like a home.

“Look.” He says quietly, eyes intensely focused on his hand, reaching to the floor and rising back to his face. He shifts on his toes, crouched and raises his eyes to look at you with awe in his eyes. You yelped when you saw the black spider crawling on his hand - or at least you thought you yelped but no sound left your mouth, instead your hands came to cover your open mouth.

“It’s okay.” He says softly with a genuine smile, he looked so relaxed with the spider.

“Peter?! Why would you-?! Isn't it dangerous?!” You stuttered, Peter’s calmness being the only thing keeping you from freaking out. But it didn’t stop you from almost whisper-yelling at him as if raising your voice will make the spider angry.

“Only if provoked. Here,” He reached his hand out to you, moving slowly so as to not disturb the creature. You stood there like a deer in the headlights, so frightened by the ugly thing, you couldn’t seem to find the courage. You looked back to Peter, his eyes intense - almost cold - until he noticed your nervous gaze and he softened. Shaking his head with a soft smile at your cowardice, “It’s not going to hurt you, not while I’m here with you.”

You couldn’t believe you were reaching for the thing, but your hand met with Peter’s and the spider crawled onto your soft skin. You kept you other hand close to your chest, looking back up to Peter when you felt your nerves pick up. He was intensely staring at your hand, the spider so comfortable, crawling on your delicate smooth, skin.

“It’s beautiful.” Fell off his lips almost unintentionally, his chest rising and falling deeper and deeper. There was something that hit him so differently seeing this contrast of something regarded as so ill and dangerous melding like water with the most graceful and peaceful specimen he has ever seen. As every life he’s lived, he’d yet found something different to make it all feel worth it, until now. Until he found the anomaly of the human race that would be worth respecting, worth playing with, worth his time.

“I suppose so.” You respond - assuming he was talking about the spider - still not understanding the whole thrill of this. You grew lot more comfortable looking at the spider now. Even gently guiding it back to the shelf next to you to for it to waddle back to its web.

Once seeing the spider reached it’s web again, you looked back to Peter who was now only inches from you, leaning down to face you. Your breath hitched, you didn’t even see him step closer but you could now feel the heat from him and hear his breathing. It made your heart race. He reached to push some of your hair behind your ear, gently and slowly, as though you were the most precious item he’d ever seen. However halting mid movement once he saw your neck, his thumb gracing down to outline a small dull red scar. His fingers cold to the touch, sending shivers down your spine.

“When did you get this?” He said in a serious tone that caught you off guard, now moving to your side to further examine the scar.

“I’m the nurse here! You don’t have the worry about me.” You pulled away playfully however still very taken back by the sudden change in mood.

“Y/N,” His stare unfaltering, “I need to know. When did this happen.”

“I- I don’t remember,” you were suddenly nervous, like you were in trouble, “I- well- I know it appeared after I got here, I just don’t remember how I got it. It’s just a scar, I’m not dying.”

Peter’s face boiled in an emotion that you hadn’t seen from him before. Anger. With a hint of nothing else in his face but pure anger. ‘Brenner’ He breathed out and looked up to the security camera in the corner of the room - that to be honest, you forgot was there most of the time.

From that interaction, you were hyper aware of that scar on your neck - usually just trying to cover it with your hair if you didn’t have to put it up. As well you started to grow even more suspicious of Dr Brenner. You were already a little too curious of his treatment of the children for his liking but now you were more aware of his treatment of you and his staff. Peter felt almost proud of you when he saw you put your guard up around the man whether in the hallway, the rainbow room or cafeteria. 

It was one afternoon, however, when one of the younger children came into your office with a bruised spine, burns across his scalp and a severe concussion that you were finally starting to lose your patience. You examined the child, tucked them into your sick bay bed with a support teddy (which was provided by you when you came to work here) and left for a moment to find Peter.

You were fuming though you tried to stay calm in the public eye - not that it made any difference, your stomps echoed through the tiled hallways. You made your way to the rainbow room, taking a deep breath before entering and scanning the room with your eyes for Peter. He was crouched next to the child guiding a marble with his eyes closed. The children watched you walk straight to him however pay you little mind. Peter however stood up immediately, noticing you were upset.

“Good evening Peter. I need your assistance if you have a moment to spare.” Keeping up appearances. It worked. He departed with the child and walked beside you out of the rainbow room. When you felt you were deep enough into the hallways, you stopped him and your fake persona melted in front of him.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?! WHAT IS HAPPENING TO THESE CHILDREN?! THIS ISN’T NORMAL! THIS IS LEGAL! PETER DID YOU KNOW?!” You were whisper yelling, aware that other people may hear you. You were panicking in front of him to the point he grabbed your upper arms to steady you and telling you to breathe. He took a deep breath himself.

“The truth is…” he contemplated for a moment whether to tell you, “Not everything here is what they seem.”

You looked at him absolutely dumbfounded as he told you of the children's special abilities and Dr Brenner’s plan to build weapons out of them. The sort of training these kids are put through and so on. You almost thought it was a joke, all of this going on under your nose, all of this that sounds completely impossible. He told you about the chip in your neck and explained that’s why he got so concerned when he first saw it.

“I have never lied to you before Y/N, especially not about the likelihood of this. I’ve tried to keep you in the dark for your own sake and protection because I fear what Dr Brenner may do if you knew the true nature of this project, what it may do to you if you knew the true nature of this project. But it seems not telling you has ended up worse and I apologise so deeply Y/N. It was never my intention to hurt y-”

“Peter, you have done nothing wrong. Thank you for always telling me the truth.” You stood in complete disbelief but you trusted Peter with your whole heart and in that moment you swore to help these children, but now you know really from what. You felt Peters hand on your shoulder taking you out of your thoughts. He guided you into his arms and you hugged him in the middle of the hallway.

“Peter, Y/N.” Dr Brenner’s voice revealed itself from behind Peter. You stole another moment in the privacy of Peter’s arms to build up the courage to face the doctor after what you just learnt.

“Good evening Dr Brenner.” You said with a smile, pretending to wipe a tear out of your eyes.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, brows furrowed in his usual calm, intimidating tone.

“Yes, yes,” You pretended to compose yourself, painting on a sheepish look. Also very aware of the child holding his hand beside him. “I’ve just been a little… well homesick is all. Peters just been a dear consolidating friend in reminding me of my family and friends here.”

Your nervousness was showing through your fiddling fingers, keeping your gaze on the child next to Brenner as you shared a gentle smile at the word ‘friends’. It was in this moment as well that Peter saw you pick his side and cover for him, he felt proud of himself that he could warn you of danger and that you actually listened. He felt proud of himself that he could suede the purest person he’d ever met to stick by his side.

Peter would think of that moment, at night, in bed alone most often. The way you lied for him, the way only he could make you steer away from your ‘righteous’ nature and lie for him. The way you listened to him and believed his every word. The way you sought him out first for help, for the truth and depended on him for comfort. The way you held him in your arms and rested your head on his chest. The way his arms wrapped around your smaller frame and could feel your back through your linen shirt. He was utterly enamoured by you.

Over the course of the year, he slowly slowly started to open up to you and he knew you were just as enamoured by him as he was of you. He protected you in this building, telling you every secret he knew, who of the orderlies and staff he thought you should stay clear of and bringing you things you needed throughout the day like an assistant. On some days even, Peter became the only person you would see for the entire day. His puppy dog eyes and sweet smile was enough to keep you going in his building. Most nights the thought of his touch was all you needed.

It was only recently that Peter started talking more and more about little number 11. He held a real fondness of her, often telling you she was the strongest of all the children. The first time you heard this, it took you greatly by surprise as she was a sweet girl but incredibly fragile from the times you’ve treated her. He looked at you with the intense stare you rarely saw - the stare that raises your heartbeat and frightens you, needing to remind yourself that it’s only Peter and there was no need to be intimidated - when telling you not to pity that girl.

It was because of Peter that yourself and 11 became closer friends. Often you’d try to learn more about the girl when she came into your office and you always greeted her, especially when you entered the rainbow room to call on a child for a check up. Peter thought it very sweet however the other children started to notice as well.

A lot of the older children became more hostile to 11 as a result of getting more attention but became hostile to you as well. 11 begun spend more and more afternoons in your office after being picked on by those kids and you welcomed her every time. She’ll tell you in very limited words that the children would tell her 'you have to be put in your place’ or that ‘they do it for her own good.’ and that she just wanted to be their friend.

You told her often “Friends don’t lie.” You tried your best to make it crystal clear that they were only bullies and that she was worth so much more than to be tossed around like that. You’d remind her how powerful she was to be here. As well that she had a brave and strong heart and you really admire that about her.

One afternoon you hadn’t seen Peter all day and you were getting very distressed and restless. He wasn’t at the dinner meal time either which only made you feel worse, cleaning your office to distract yourself all night. By 7 o’clock there was a knock on your door which you ran too thinking it was Peter however instead you found little 11 standing there alone.

You welcomed her in of course and she tried to explain to you what she saw today. Of Peter being punished for helping her. You thanked her so deeply for telling you to which she replied with “Friends don’t lie.” You gave her a hug as tears started to spill unwillingly out of your eyes from worry and sent her off to her room for the night.

So that night when you were packing up your office, you hid a few supplies and ointments in your undergarments and tried your best to sneak to his room without being spotted. You weren’t sure if he didn’t come see you for treatment because he didn’t want you to see him that way or because Dr Brenner prohibited him but neither was going to stop you for helping him.

You knock on his door and he opens the door harshly thinking you were someone else. However his eyes softened immediately upon seeing you and he drags you in to close the door. He lets you fawn over him, scolding him for not seeing you and what not when all he did was groan in pain as he tried to sit on the edge of his bed.

He followed your orders in taking off his shirt so you could see his wounds, pulling out the supplies you brought. Now sitting shirtless with his arms out, he watched you expectedly as you were too focused on examining him to notice the elephant in the room. He enjoyed seeing your flustered look when seeing him shirtless and your pure worry while treating him.

“11 and I are more alike than you think.” He states out of the blue, breaking your focus. That's when you finally noticed the number. 001. He watches your face turn from concern to utter despair.

“No” you look up at him, slowly your hands rise to his head. You softly grab his hair and bring him to your chest. Pure love and sorrow in your embrace that he melts into you.

”Not you, not them.” You whimpered into his hair. Your heart broke at the thought of him going through what you’ve seen these children go through and now more.

You almost healed his inner child in that moment alone. He feels a tear drop on his hair and pulls back to look at you, his hand resting on your waist. Bringing a thumb to your cheek to wipe away your tears. In the complete silence of the little tiled room, you broke loose.

“I’m so scared.” You whimpered, tears slowly continuing to build in your eyes. He quickly retorted with his thumb now grazing over your lips, his gentle eyes comforting you, “You never have to be afraid again. Not with me.”

He pulled you to him, lips resting against his for a moment. You closed your eyes until both of you pulled back. Opening your eyes, you see him watching your lips while licking his own. Your heart was beating so fast.

“Again” he says in a daze. He’d never kissed anyone before but to share this moment with you was almost too much for him. You did as he said and kissed him again. Your lips took over and moved against each other on their own. His grip tighten and you pulled away, a small moanish sigh left your lips from the feeling. You take charge, connecting your lips to his again, tongue to tongue and he’s taken off guard. But he’s a quick learner.

With a gruff grunt, he yanks you onto his lap, your hands resting on his chest. His hand holding your jaw to him and the other pulling up your skirt. This was too good a feeling to be real, this was a feeling he could get used to for sure. A feeling of pure pleasure and love, he wants to hold you and protect you from this hell hole.

“I fear he already knows” You whisper against his lips. You didn’t dare speak the doctor’s name in a moment like this.

“I’m afraid so,” He mumbled back against your lips, “But if he lays a hand on you, I’ll be the end of everything he knows.”

You pulled back, taking out the pins in your hair and letting it fall onto your shoulders. His eyes watching your movements so intensely, his thigh bouncing from a feeling he couldn’t identify, nervousness or excitement maybe.

Your hands held his shoulders to keep you stable on his lap. You looked down to his chest, your mannerisms turning sheepish and he could tell there was something you needed to ask him. He moved a piece of hair out of your face and behind your ear, and following that motion your head turned to him and locked eyes.

“Will you have me?” He was confused by your question. You straightened yourself on his lap, gaining the courage to continue, “I don’t know what will happen beyond this point, tomorrow. I don’t know if I can even help these kids if I tried. But I know I’m here with you right now and that might be all I get.” 

His eyes grew wide and clouded full of love. He was starting to realise what you were referring to.

“I don’t want to regret anything, I don’t want to miss you. I need you.” You continued. He was so mesmerised by you that he brought you in for another kiss, rough and heavy, he wanted to express how he felt about you and this - in his inexperience - was the best way he knew how to.

He watched you lick your lips and lean back in his lap - supporting you with a grip on your hips. He watched your nimble little hands work on the button at your collar, letting it fall open. Then the next button and the next until he stopped you. Holding your delicate hands in his like fine china and bringing them to his lips for a gentle kiss. He guides your hands back to his shoulders and works on the rest of your buttons for you one by one.

Reaching the belt of your skirt, he yanks your tucked in shirt out rougher than intended and you let out a little giggle to which he matches your smile, a genuine, warm smile. All your buttons were undone and you guide his hands into your unbuttoned shirt, leaving his hands on his chest, letting your shirt slip off your shoulders.

With his hands awkwardly placed over your underwear where you placed them, he watched your chest rise and fall, up and down with every deep breath under his warm hands. Your nervous look turned to one of slight smugness, mostly adoration. You reached your arms behind your back to unclasp your bra and with that it fell to the ground. He looked so unsure where to place his hands.

You lifted his chin to look you in the eye and with a gently loving smile, you gave him a nod. With that he cupped your breast and explored the feeling. He observed the way you reacted to his movements, when your breath hitched or fastened. Hitting the jackpot when his thumb met your nipple, like a research project.

He was rubbing circles with his thumb, relishing the sight of you watching his hands as he worked. Your head almost subconsciously following the movement, as you’re lips were parted and almost drooling. He’s never had this effect on anyone before but you didn’t tell him to stop. He never knew his limits, but the effect he had was intoxicating for him in a way he didn’t know was possible.

“Aah!” His fingers were rough and dry. He looked at you jerking back his hands immediately, unsure if he did something wrong to hurt you. You still had this blissed out look on your face as you looked at him but you licked your lips. Slowly, to draw his attention and your eyes flicked down. He gave you a knowing look once it clicked what you wanted. 

He gave you a devilish smile before connecting his lips to your nipple. You gripped his hair and let out a gasp, his lips moving as they did on your lips and soon remembered to let his tongue join the ensemble. His eyes continued to watch the look on your face when he got the chance. Every time you made a noise, it only egged him on more. Soon he was onto the other nipple and your fingers were busy twisting and pulling his hair.

He committed every little movement and noise you made to memory and was absolutely addicted. He couldn’t seem to stop, he couldn’t seem to pull himself off you when you were making noises like that. You were pulling his hair and making noises straight out of a porno. Only finally giving you a break when he pulled off you, leaning back to get a look at you all dishevelled. You were falling forward in his lap, already tired, chest completely red and sore, rising rapidly as you tried to catch your breath.

“Peter” you let out a moanish-sigh and his head fell back at the sound. He let out groans in pain, you weren’t sure whether the source was from the burns or his tight white pants. Once you regain your composure, you let your hand slide along the inside of his left thigh in front of you. He returned his look to you, somehow more dishevelled than you were and you’ve barely touched him.

“Please.” he said, almost submissively and your hand fell over where he needed you most. You were only palming him gently through his white chinos but truly it was enough for him to snap. His head had fallen back entirely, hands off your waist and leaning on the bed behind him to keep him steady and upright.

His neck was on full display to you and taking the opportunity, you manoeuvred your way to lean your knees against the bed and rest your chest against his with your hand still between your bodies. Lips connecting to his neck and feeling the vibrations of every noise he made. You kissed around his neck, trying not to leave marks that might be spotted until you reached the chip behind his ear.

“I hate him.” You muttered against his skin absentmindedly, catching his attention and bringing him out of the moment. He pulled you up in front of him pulling down your skirt, slipping off your shoes and groaning once more as you stood in front of him in nothing but your panties.

“Sit.” he orders, you do as he says. With a grunt he stands in front of you like you did him moments before. He desperately fiddled with his belt, his hands were shaking but he was too focused on taking off his trousers to notice. Once finally free he lets out a sigh of relief as the cold air hits his skin.

“Peter.” you did it again and it drove him crazy, the sight of you sitting there almost naked staring at his dick was an effect he didn’t know he could have on a person.

“Lay down Peter, please.” you almost begged. 

He laid down beside you and you straddled him, pulling off your panties one leg after the other. He watched you as your cold fingers traced down his torso then gently grazed over his cock. He completely stopped breathing but couldn’t look away. 

He was in so much pain, desperate for release but he didn’t want this moment to end. Everything you did made it worse but he couldn’t bring himself to quicken the pace. You were dripping down your thigh, he watched you scrape some of your wetness off your thigh and drag it down his shaft. You wrapped your hand around him, thumb rubbing at the slit spreading the pre-cum it let out, him letting out a groan from deep in his chest along with it

“Are you ready Peter?” You said weakly, mostly the nerves were finally showing through. Positioning yourself above him with his eyes intensely trained on the sight.

“Now.”

You rode him. Slowly at first. He’d never felt this kind of pleasure before and he certainly wasn’t going to interfere with what you were doing. The room was silent beside the echoing noises of the friction of your skin, the repetitive squelching from inside you, every hum that you made involuntarily at every little movement. Everything added up into pure over stimulation on his senses. He could hear his own noises, groans and hums and moans and sighs echo back at him and he almost gave you submission. His hands rested on your hips as you rolled back and forth on him, yours hands resting on his shoulders for stability and moaning in his ear.

You grabbed his hand off your hips and guided him to your clit, helping him move in the way you like and once he got the hang of it, your body completely fell over onto him. He saw you break down in front of his eyes at this simple movement and something within him snapped in a need for dominance.

His grip on your hip tightens, bruises forming as he begins thrusting up into you. You’re yelping almost in pain but that only pushes him longer as he shows no signs of slowing down. He flips you over, delicately placing you below him, it was the only moment for you to breathe before he continued.

He begins to pound into you again, thumb still working on your clit. You’re gripping his hair and the nape of his neck for dear life as you're on the verge of screaming and crying from love and fear and pain and he’s got his arm out beside you, steadying himself, chin resting on your collarbone as he watches you scream and squirm. The sudden change in his demeanour and the pace and everything is sending you so overboard that you’re orgasming before you can even put a coherent thought together. It was only Peter.

“Pete-aA, a- AH - AgaIN PETER.”

At the point you begin to calm down only slightly, he started rutting into you with a grunt with every thrust. “You’re free now. With me you’re free Y/N. You won’t leave me, you won’t ever leave me. Y/n hmm Y/n” and it continued like that with each thrust. He’d grunt and call out for you and grunt and call out for you. Relishing the feeling of your squirming and jerking your hips, like you were a bunny he was setting free from it’s misery. He had to have you.

For a while you were way past your orgasm but he was still rutting into you. So strained you could feel the veins on his neck and see the veins on his forehead pop out. You’d scream for him and only him, not any jerk, not Brenner. You’d scream his name, and feel for him. You were gasping for air, nails frantically scratching at his back, hair, shoulders, arms, anywhere you could grip.

With what little might you could muster, you lifted your head to look at him, face red and completely tear stained, mascara pooling under your eyes. “I am free, with you Peter! You set me free!” you cried, out of breath and completely dick crazed. He was a goner. Completely inside of you he stayed and rutted as he released. Your name falling off his lips, only yours.

He fell onto you, releasing all the tension in his muscle as he gently held you. You laid there under him gasping for air and grabbing his hair and shoulder.

He looked at you with complete awe and amazement, that was the best he’d ever felt, the most free he’s ever felt yet the most powerful he’d ever felt. He loved you, he would kill for you, but watching you stay there under him, crying and screaming and taking it because you loved him. It was a love he’s never felt before. He did nothing but stare at you and breathe as he thought and you stared at him back, in love.

Something in him clicked like it sometimes did, his eyes reverted back to their Peter puppy dog eyes, he chucked and giggled and sighed resting his head next to yours in a playful ‘wow’ sort of fashion. You only giggled in return and held him closer. He jolted up on his elbow to look at you, jump scaring you in the moment and looked at him expectedly.

“Stay with me, just tonight y/n.” Your eyes lit up as he did to match until the hope drained out of you.

“You know I can’t Peter.” You looked into his eyes, deep into his wide black hole of eyes, there was a void space in his eyes that drew you into a trance. He knew how to use this power on you.

“Like you said, we don’t know what's going to happen tomorrow but you have me now.” He could see he was persuading you easily. You bit your lip and let out a loud breath when lying back down in his arms. He grabbed your chin, roughly, pulling you to look at him. 

“You’ll be with me forever, you’ll never have to feel fear again with me, especially not from the likes of those men out there.” With that the two of you spent the night, you in his arms, him in your arms. He could feel your heart racing and the fear behind it as tomorrow morning came closer and closer. You both knew tomorrow was going to be a living hell and you weren’t sure if you were ready for it but you had no regret being with Peter.

Neither of you slept properly, the night was full of deep late night conversations, giggles, you spoke of your families, he told you of his childhood and wanted to take you again when instead of rejecting him, you embraced him and were interested in the stuff he likes to talk about, spiders, power, dominance. It was the longest and shortest night of his life and he didn’t even leave the bed once.

He mentioned his plan to free 11. You saw it as a mission to heal his inner child and thought him incredibly selfless to sacrifice himself for the sweetest little girl you’d ever met. Of course you’d offer to help, you’d do anything for Peter and if he was going to sacrifice himself, you’d have nothing else left to live for either. 

You told Peter to give her your ID card, so he can meet her in the basement and in the early morning, he took you again because he couldn’t keep his hands off you and how pure of a soul you were.

“You are everything good in this world, I will protect you.” He’d repeat all night.

Now the next morning, you watched Peter prepares himself for the day then walk you to your room, trying his best to avoid cameras and keep you out of sight. And thus the most dreaded day of your life begins.

It was cold, the only warmth you felt was the redness of your cheeks and ears when you thought back to last night. Your morning went as usual except the way Peter looked at you when passing in the hall was different and made you wet in your pants.

Dr Brenner visited your medical office, notifying you that you and the other nurse will be needed in the lab room in an hour as the children are playing another game. You tried to play off your complete nervousness - of just being in the same room as him as if he already knew what happened last night - by giving a kind and understanding smile you usually try to wear. He leaves with no inhibitions but you just know deep down, he knows.

You do as you're told. In the next hour, walk to the lab room he called you too and watch the children leave. You enter to find 2 on the ground, a collar around his neck you’d seen before leaving burns on the children. Terror is evident in your eyes and Peter can see that from where he stands in the corner of the room. You walk in, trying to stay calm, everyone is watching you and the other nurse that came with you to escort the child.

Dr Brenner welcomes you and thanks you for coming on time. He takes the collar off 2 and steps aside for you to help up to your office.

“Of course. It’s only our job to help these children sir.” you gave a reassuring smile. Usually Brenner liked to hear these sort of things from his staff but today he stops you, telling the other nurse to take the child and leave you. Confused, you look to Peter, he looked seemingly more concerned than confused.

“Y/N stay with us.” Brenner says calmly. You spin to face him and his orderlies. Your heart is racing and your breathing so heavy that you could hear your heart beat in your ears. Dr Brenner motions for you to stand where you found 2.

Not daring to go against his orders, you walked to the spot in front of the Doctor. Peter was starting to catch on to what was about to happen and he was getting angry, visibly angry. His anger only made you more nervous. The other orderlies even started to look nervous and confused. Dr Brenner touches your arm and you tense up completely.

“Please, Y/N there’s no need to get nervous now.” He walks behind you, hand on your waist, collar in his hand, “No, you haven’t done anything wrong to be this nervous, have you?”

He never once falters from his scolding fatherly tone, no matter how ridiculous the situation. You’re shaking and whimpering and trembling under his touch. Peter observes the complete weakness in you, not the way you were with him. His fist was clenched, he was going to snap. He cleared his throat, trying to diffuse this situation but it only made it worse. Dr Brenner’s eyes snap to the boy, so do yours. Your eyes pleading for help and Dr Brenner notices.

“I’m afraid my suspicions were correct.” He scoffs under his breath and starts putting the collar on you.

“You say you do this for the children, correct? You want to help my children?” He says, walking back in front of you now that the collar was around your neck. You were shaking so violently that you could barely stand, tears were falling from your eyes wildly without any prior permission. Brenner looked to the man on his side, instantly getting the cue and walking over to hold Peter back. And as though in slow motion, he reached for the dial in his hand and turned it on. 

Before you could properly comprehend what was happening and that you were in pain, you found yourself on the floor.

“I didn’t want to have to do this Y/n but it’s necessary to remind you of the rules and that of basic respect and manners. This is no place for a whore.”

You were on the floor screaming in pain. Peter was screaming at Brenner from where he was being held back to watch.

After a couple long minutes, a few of which you’d blacked out through, Brenner finally turned the collar off. He crouched in front of you, lifting your chin to look at him, gazing directly into your eyes as he said, “It’s only for your own good, I don’t want to have to let go of you because of this little incident.” 

It was about noon now, after you were left to hobble back to your room alone, that Peter finally visited you. Bringing you food and water. He sat with you in your bed, holding you and apologising for not being able to protect you and saying he will get revenge for you. You went all too sure what he was saying but you were just happy to have him by your side for a little bit.

You gave him your ID card and told him to give it to her, and get her out today. It was time, today was the day. He took it and listened to you. You had to assure him many times that you’d be okay if he left you here before he actually got up to leave. And after a kiss he went to start the plan as you fell asleep.

You woke up to someone entering your room, you could sense it had only been a few hours later but Peter was already back in your room. He ran straight to you, yanking you to his chest before you were fully awake to comprehend what was going on.

“Ow” you let out and he apologised vowing to be gentler next time, “Peter? What's going on? Did you give her the ID? What's go- Peter you’re bleeding!”

You sat up now, completely sobered and concerned. You observed his neck where the chip used to be now dripping with blood. He looked at you with determined eyes, the intense stare that used to scare you.

“I’m free now Y/N. I can protect you now. I love you Y/N.” he took a rough, hard kiss from you once again and laid you back down, “I can protect you now.”

“No Peter! Wait, what’s going on?!” You were getting up to stop him leaving without telling you but he just pulled you to his chest and kissed your hair.

“You have to stay here, I’m going to protect you. You trust me.” He repeated once more before picking you up and putting you back into your bed. You watched him leave bewildered and the door shut behind him. You didn’t have your ID card or a key of any kind and now Peter’s left you confused and worried he was hurt.

You ran to the door after him, trying desperately to find a way to get it open to no avail. In despair, you slid to the floor, sitting with your back to the door and waited. The only thing you could do.

There was a scream.

And another.

The alarm started going off.

You tried once again at the door but it wouldn’t open, you were getting frantic again. You started to hit the door but no one was left around to hear.

“PETER!” You were screaming, banging at the door with your fist, desperate for someone, anyone to hear you.

[walpu]

when ur done with the main story i'd love to hear your thoughts on it! (I'm only half way done rn tho ....)

Hi!!

So. I've just finished the quest. Hoyo got me good ngl. Sorry if it's bit messy I'm still in shambles

Spoilers for v.21 bellow!!!

So happy Aven is alive like literally so relieved. I was so anxious about it I started worrying I won't be able to work tomorrow if something happens to him lmao.

I was very happy that the way I characterize Aven in my head played out in the game but at the same time I was low-key devastated.

It was nice to see that he can be playful and a bit silly, like when he and Ratio were solving puzzles and getting on each other's nerves. It was also nice to see that his masks slips easier and more often than I thought. Honestly everything about him is just so peak fiction like he's cunning and low-key manipulative but he's also very sentimental, he says the end justifies the meaning and says that betrayal is a tool he can use but he actually refuses to sacrifice others and says that he considers it to be a dirty game. Like he's soooooooooo

Also "future" Aventurine. Evil shadow self lmao. He was fascinating because on one hand he low-key represents Aventurine's mask. However he also represents the pent up negative emotions and thoughts he has towards himself. Which is cool because I mean who knows what hides underneath the mask better than the mask itself.

I'm happy he started his journey to self acceptance thought. Like to be honest I'm very satisfied with the way his arc was written. Hated to see him in pain but it's cool they gave him the space to be broken and vulnerable in front of the player, addressed his past and how it affects him.

Topaz was surprisingly nice when talking about him I thought she can't stand his ass. She did sound sad when talking about him "dying" so I presume she DOES care. And so does Ratio!!!!! I hope hoyo will explore Aven's relationships with them and his arc will lead to him realizing that there are people who care about him regardless of his status.

Outside of Aven's arc. I like the way Sunday was written. We didn't spend much time with him but I feel like they did the most out of it like you can see what kind of person he is. Obviously there's more to learn but still. That being said, I can't stand his ass 😭 He gave me the ick during his scene with Sparkle and after 2.1 I don't think I'll find it in myself to ever like him but we'll see, after all I was sure I won't like Aven since he works for the IPC but here we are.

And about the final twist. Yeah. Didn't see tgat coming and thanks god I didn't spoil it for myself. That being said, I don't think Gallagher would actually kill someone, so I think the angelic siblings will be fine.

Also. Aven's boss form is sexy af I was staring at him and his little slutty waist when Luocha decided to intervene with his "what is it we're waiting for? 🙄🙄🙄" Like??? Boy be quite??????