#he then found some long ones and gained another few inches

[sordidmusings]

Switching Up Roles - Part 2/2 (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: gif relevant cuz this mf gets his hand privileges revoked 💀 I have finally finished it QuQ getting Buggy to admit his sub desires to you for anon is here! I really hope it is what you wanted and that you enjoy 🤍 there's lots of filth but there's also a lot of them being sweet dorks together and painfully in love because I couldn't help myself whoops

Word Count: ~8.5k

Warnings: feminine leaning afab!reader (no pronouns), NSFW my dude, very sub side of switch!Buggy, face sitting, oral (both receiving), light restraining, praise, degradation, edging, p in v, creampie, brat taming im p sure (Buggy doesn't mean to be a brat, petulance is just in his soul), takes a little to get to the sex but then it just keeps happening lol

Enjoy turning the clown into even more of a hot mess 🤡

Part 1

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Buggy is, for once, at the door to your shared room, kicking off his shoes for the night, right when the last colors of sunset begin to fade and no later. His hat is pulled off and thrown with little care for where it lands and his gloves are yanked off and flung away. He stomps over to where you sit on the bed with heavy feet, plops you fully onto the bed with a complaining grunt, and flops his full weight on top of you with spread limbs. You would be chastising him right now, but all the air left your lungs when he belly-flopped you into the mattress. A few forceful breaths re-inflate your lungs, but by the time you have your words prepared, Buggy is finished with his prolonged and dramatic sigh, and he greets you with a “heya, sweetcheeks” that barely makes it out of the comforter engulfing his face.

Gods, you love this silly little man.

“Hello, lovebug,” you reply with a fond giggle. “I’d ask how you’re doing but the dramatic entrance told me everything.”

Another complaining grunt is his response.

“Sounds about right. How about this?” You shimmy yourself a touch so you can fully move your arms and slither them under his coat. Your fingers touch his sides before sweeping in and trailing next to his spine all the way up his back. You dig them in just enough to create resistance then you drag them all the way back down to the small of his back. You feel his shiver in your own body and bask in his happy sigh. “How about you let me take care of you tonight? You really need to spend some time relaxing before your body falls to pieces that won’t listen to you anymore. I don’t wanna have to put you together like a figurine again; you don’t come with assembly instructions.”

Something that sounds like “needing a waxing” vibrates into the mattress.

“You’re gonna have to repeat that one, Bubs.”

With a huff to let you know what an absurd effort you’re making him go through, Buggy turns his head to lay with his mouth next to your ear. “I said ‘sleep is relaxing’, dumbass.”

You easily ignore his toothless insult. You begin massaging the muscles under your hands on his lower back to ease him up some more. “Well, yeah, and that’s why I want to help you sleep like the dead.”

Ever a man with his mind frolicking in the gutter, Buggy gets some new found pep. He breaks out the rough whisper he knows you love to say, “And how do you plan on doing that, sweet treat?”

You turn to him and inch in close enough to speak against his lips, “Why waste time telling you when I can show you?”

Buggy’s pressing his lips to yours before you finish the final word. The kiss is full of ease with its slow rhythm and syrupy movements. You pull back to tease his lips with a brush of your own and take a moment to savor breathing the same air. Buggy won’t let you stop for long; his impatience for your touch always becomes all consuming after he gets that first taste. He’s still gaining more energy back and using it to put more strength into his movements. He props himself up on one elbow and his opposite hand slides over to palm the base of your skull. His thumb brushes the sensitive skin behind one ear and his fingers easily reach to the other, leaving you completely at his control. He gently sucks your bottom lip before giving it a hungry nip, and it comes back to you that you’re supposed to be leading this night somewhere.

When you go to pull away, Buggy’s hand keeps you exactly where he wants you. He responds to your attempted escape by teasing his tongue between your lips. This man clearly knows how weak you are for him, because you couldn’t keep yourself from deepening the kiss if you tried. Why would you ever deny yourself these moments where you could taste each other’s want on the smooth slide of tingling tongues? Wait. No. Focus.

“C’mon, gorgeous,” he breathes out in response to another attempt to pull back, this one weaker. “Don’t you wanna be my good little slut?” You let out a high-pitched moan into his mouth at that, internally cursing him for being so hot. “I need my cock-hungry pretty baby to make me feel good. Didn’t you want to be my cocksleeve? My little toy to fuck whenever and however I want?”

Yes, yes you did. You loathe your past self for giving him that ammunition to use against you right now. Without meaning to, you spread your legs fully, making space for his hips to shimmy flush to your center. He rewards you with firm grinds of the thick bulge straining against his pants. His movements are unhurried, letting you focus on every moment and the way his cock drags on your heat, reminding you of every time it had you drunk on pleasure before. The promise it gives you is mouthwatering. You realize that you may have miscalculated. You had thought his brain would be too fried from the week to use your soft spots against you, but here he is, getting you wet and pliant with one deep kiss and some choice words. What a bastard.

You try pulling away again and are met with the same result. Fine then.

Buggy squawks and flinches back when you pinch his side. He splits at the waist to keep his lower half on you and floats his upper body out of your attack range. The look he gives you is absolutely seething, but you would not be moved. You remain unimpressed.

“I did pull back multiple times. What if I had to sneeze and you made me headbutt you?” you reason, knowing it was too obvious that you were enjoying yourself to pretend otherwise. The way your legs are still happily hooked around his hips would be all the argument he needs against you.

“You always do those little prep inhales and reel back like you’re getting an exorcism. Would’ve given me plenty of time to get out of the line of fire,” Buggy grouses, crossing his arms to give you his most petulant pout.

You make an exaggerated gasp and distort your voice to sound tearful when you say, “I thought you loved me for my dramatic sneezes! Have you been lying to me this whole time?”

“Every. single. day,” he deadpans.

“And here I was,” you begin, shoving his legs off and standing from the bed, “Ready to play doting housewife for you and undress you with kisses and massages and love!” You turn your back to him to really sell the soap opera scene. Using the word “love” may have been a little bit underhanded; you both have been skittering around saying your first “I love you��s, only daring to use the weighted word indirectly. Even so, it was always easy to see how hearing the word from your lips would make him forget everything else and seek another hit of it from you.

“Aw come on, baby,” he draws out, already switching from pouting brat to placating lover. “We can still do that right?”

There is a lot of frantic rustling behind you. You peek at him over your shoulder, only allowing yourself to turn enough to see him in the corner of your eye. He is popped back together and is sitting up on his knees. He had skooched himself to the edge of the bed right behind you, where he is now giving you his best puppy dog face. You’re able to hold out just long enough for him to start wondering if your anger was all play before you spin around and chirp, “Only if you make a deal with me!”

Buggy flings himself back out on the bed and groans, “Fiiiiiiiiine.”

“It’s one you’ll like, I promise,” you soothe. You ease Buggy to sit up at the edge of the bed, laughing at the way he’d sway too far into whichever direction you pulled him, staying just one step removed from going dead weight. Once he’s settled into his spot, you take a moment to examine him. It doesn’t go unnoticed to you that his back is hunched forward under the weight of his exhaustion. Though his eyes are playful, they also hold dark bags, which peek out around his makeup. Your heart aches for him. Even when he is overworked and needing sleep, he’s taking the time to goof around with you and listen to your requests. You’d make sure he had the best sleep of his life tonight. You’d get him all clean and cozy and ready for bed and then you’d make him cum so hard that his brain blue screens. Truly a proper recipe for a good night’s rest.

“How’d you take off your gloves at the door but not your coat?” you ask, pushing said coat off his strong shoulders. He helps you by pulling out his arms. While your eyes admire any new skin exposed to you, Buggy keeps his eyes on your face.

“Can’t feel you through the gloves,” he explains. Oh, wow, that’s actually really sweet- “You ever try to enjoy tits and ass through fabric? Doesn’t work as well.”

You puff out an exasperated laugh. Yep, there’s your Buggy.

Before you move on to take off his scarf, you brush your fingertips along his neck and jaw to enjoy the warmth of his skin and the scratch of his stubble. Once the cloth is gone, you begin using your lips instead. He reaches out to hold your hips in a practiced welcome when you settle into his lap. Anywhere your kissing moves, Buggy opens himself up to your touch. You nose his jaw up for his head to fall back and kiss your way along his pulse. Your hand comes up to support the other side of his neck, your thumb admiring the shape of his adams apple. Your other hand hooks into his shirt’s collar and pulls it aside for more access. By the time you follow his collarbone to his shoulder, your kisses are open-mouthed, sucking and licking at his skin. When you move back over to the base of his neck, you feel his throat bob from a heavy swallow then vibrate under your thumb with his pleased hum.

Eager kisses lead you up to his ear, which you greet with a nip. Pulling back, you blow cool air on him to light up the damp trail you left behind. While your lips explore him, his hands explore you. They had started at your hips and are now massaging indulgently at your chest. Like everything else, the motion is not rushed, which perfectly compliments the teasing way he thumbs your nipples through your shirt.

After a sweet kiss to his temple, you undo his bandana, exposing his beautiful blue hair. You guide his head down to rest against your sternum so you can more easily take out the pins and ties keeping his hair in place. Buggy hums in pleasure from the relief in his scalp once his waves of long hair all fall free. You help soothe it further by massaging your fingers from the nape of his neck, around to temples, up to crown, and back down again. You always love when you can play with his hair; it’s become covetously soft in your care and you’ve become addicted to the faint smell of shampoo topped with ocean spray that came from it. 

Buggy’s hands move from your chest so he can wrap you in a loose hug. He mindlessly massages your lower back and ass while you tend to him. The break from your kissing lets him regain enough thought to ask, “You gonna let me know about the terms I’ve agreed to or am I supposed to start guessing?”

You give him a sweet giggle and kiss the top of his head. While moving on to unclasp his many belts, you reply, “If you insist then I guess I’ll tell you.” Even his shirt has belts, what is this? Yeah, they look nice, but each one is one more step between you and getting him naked. “What you’re gonna do-” you don’t miss his shiver at the sternness in your tone “-is lay there and enjoy what I give you.” You soften up just a touch. “I’m here to make you feel better. I need you to trust that.”

“Of course I do,” he says, almost offended. He earns a kiss with the ease and earnestness of his response.

Finally, all the belts are undone and his shirt is opened. Buggy pops his arms off so you can easily push it off of him without the rest of his body moving an inch. He reassembles while your hands work on touching every new stretch of skin. You’d never tire of feeling his abs twitch under your touch or tracing the contours of his body. You get bolder, scratching pink lines through the light texture of his blue chest hair. It matches his stubble in a handsome blue, slightly darker than the hair on his head.

With a grip on his hair, you ease Buggy’s head off of your chest. He moans at the pull of it on his tender scalp and hopes you think it's from discomfort. The way you turn your hand so it pulls firmer, earning more sounds, lets him know he’s not fooling you. He finds that he doesn’t care when he sees the appraising look you’re giving him. 

Now that he’s sat up, you get back to work on marking him up. There’s a gentle, tingling scratch of hair against the skin of your face while you work him over. Buggy is slowly and surely falling apart between your dominating hand and worshiping lips. Where before he felt the need to muster the energy to meet you for pleasure, he is now surrendering to let you control when and how he feels it. He lets himself lean into your grip and keeps himself relaxed, only moving his hips in mindless grinds. Having this man offer you free access to himself is winding you up quickly. You needed to get this moving along. You could take all the time you wanted soon. After smearing a few more kisses across his chest, you get up to work on getting him out of his pants.

“Come on, Bugs, let’s get you out of the rest of those clothes,” you coo, moving back to stand in front of him. 

“You want me naked~” Buggy taunts in a singsong voice like a schoolyard bully, giving you the cheekiest grin. He holds out his arms (making grabby hands of course) for you to pull him up. With a sturdy heave, you get the sleepy clown back on his feet. 

“You’ve found me out,” you whisper in fake shame. “Whatever will I do?”

“Well, toots, you can buy my silence with kisses,” he offers.

After giving many quick kisses all over his face, many with exaggerated “mwah!”s to get more giggles out of him, you move on to his pants. Buggy stays quiet and pliant while you undid them and pull them down to his ankles, following them down to the floor. You are happy to see that familiar bulge more clearly while he’s just in his boxers. You kiss along his length through them, making it twitch eagerly. His hand comes to rest on your head, letting you know how much he wants you to stay there. You look up at him, making eye contact, before pulling back and pulling his boxers down to join his pants. You think it’s cute the way his breath still catches from seeing you like this. It’s also cute the way his hands move to your shoulders to help him balance while you take off his pants and boxers then pull each sock off of his feet.

Buggy settles himself to recline on the pillows at the head of the bed, legs crossed at the ankles and hands behind his head. He eats up the way your eyes scrape over every inch of his spread out body. It isn’t lost on him the way your eyes always gravitate towards the prize laying heavy on his stomach, highlighted by a deep blue happy trail and trimmed curls. “Your turn, sweet cheeks,” he prompts.

“Not so fast,” you say, turning away from him and going to grab some items on the dresser. You turn back holding out a cloth and bowl of water to answer Buggy’s raised brow. He is not happy with your answer.

“Come ooooon,” he complains. “Aren’t you used to the makeup by now?”

“Yeah, I thought that was obvious,” you respond, gesturing to the marks he’s left on your face and chest. “But our skin will be happier without it and you’ll feel better sleeping clean and without a whole stage show’s paint on your pillow.”

“But I want you on me now,” he growls. Okay that greedy tone almost won you over, but you could use his weak spots too.

“I also..” you had wanted to only play shy but found that the feeling became genuine. “I also want to see you bare faced tonight.” Buggy narrows his eyes so you continue. “Don’t get me wrong, the makeup is sexy - like obviously, you’ve seen how I get - but you’re handsome without it too. And sometimes all I wanna see is you.”

He relents easily, trying to hide the blush that burns up his cheeks and down his neck. You reward him by making very quick progress of getting him fresh faced and cleaning the smears off of your own face and body, before moving onto your clothes. 

You’d like to say that you were sexy in the way that you stripped yourself, but the reality is that you were quick and unchoreographed in your rush to get back to Buggy. He’d never complain though; there’s already plenty of your mouth watering strip teases filed away in his mind. There was also a rush in knowing how quickly you want to touch him again. And in the way the rush has your tits and ass jiggling.

Buggy reaches out to welcome you back into his lap, but is blindsided when you move to grab and spread his ankles instead. The way you crawl in between his legs is slow and maddening. Where’s that impatience that had you tearing off your clothes? Buggy can’t lie, he does love the way you’re kissing up his legs and the way it lets him savor how your body moves and curves. His worn body and thumping heart are addicted to the way you’re touching him. The problem is that he’s having trouble thinking of anything beyond the way his cock throbs angrily at the lack of attention.

The whispers, nips, and kisses that you layer on his thighs stay just on the right side of ticklish. Buggy’s hands follow your movements, brushing into your hair and tugging gently whenever you find a particularly sensitive spot. You keep at it until his thighs are twitching and jumping to your touch and he’s lost control of the pace of his breath. It’s only then that you begin teasing his cock with soft lips and cold blown air. You mix in firm, sedate licks to keep hinting at the relief your mouth could bring.

Buggy detaches his hands and begins to trail them down your sides. He’s hoping that playing you with his fingers would urge you along. Beyond that, he needs to feel how slick and warm you are and get his mind ready for the feeling that would soon slide over his aching cock by sinking his fingers into your plush grip. You quickly stop his plot by plopping your hips flush to the bed so that he can get no further than groping your ass. 

“Ah ah ah, I didn’t say you could touch me yet,” you reprimand. Buggy whines back at you and you nip his upper inner thigh. “Hands,” you command, holding your own out. Even with his protests, he detaches his hands and floats them to your own. You link your fingers together with his then shove his hands down into the mattress, leaning your weight on them.

With him disarmed, you focus back to winding him up. Taking his head into your mouth, you begin swirling your tongue. Buggy manages to keep his hips from pushing more of him into you, but they shake with the effort. You turn your head to the side and begin massaging his head into the inside of your cheek, careful to keep your teeth off of him. He bites out curses and looks down at you to burn the image of your cheek bulging from his cock into his mind forever. He begins to let his hips lead the movements pressing out your cheek, so you pull him back out of your mouth.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” Buggy pleads. He needs to keep feeling you or he’s sure he’ll go insane.

“I didn’t hear you say please,” you snark at him. He starts chanting the word for you in hopes to fix his mistake and earn your mouth back, but you’re already decided on the matter. Instead of sucking on him again, you simply nose around his hips and crotch to tease him, using what you could with your hands occupied restraining him. You found you enjoyed it; he smells strongly of clean skin and sex and the new method of touching him lets your brain notice new details to cherish. “It’s too late, silly clown,” you taunt.

When he can take no more, Buggy detaches an arm and bends it around the back of your neck. He pulls you into him by the crook of his elbow and growls out, “more”. You glare up at him before quickly taking him back into your mouth, all the way to the back of your throat, grinding his head there while sucking harshly and gripping his balls.

Buggy yelps out an apology, the sensation way too much to process so suddenly. His arm flies back to him and you ease your grip on him. You soothe him with a few gentle bobs of your head before popping off and leaving a kiss to the soft skin on the underside of his cock. That sharp hit to his nerves chased by the tender touch fogs up his mind.

“I’ll do what you want, please tell me what you want,” he begs.

“What I want-” you’re crawling your way back up his body, “-is for you to be honest with me. Tell me what you’ve been hiding this whole time.”

Buggy’s face scrunches in genuine confusion. “I’m not hiding anything from you.”

“You sure?” you press. You lean towards his lips, which gently part in anticipation of a kiss. The moment before your lips brush, when you feel his stuttered breath, you change course and ghost your lips across his jaw to his ear. “But it would make me so  happy if you just told me,” you whisper. “You usually make me feel so good.” You can feel him listening intently. “You don’t want to be good for me?” He stills completely. “Don’t you want to be my good little toy?” His whole body shivers beneath you. You kiss and suck your way down his neck and he leans his head away to give you as much access as possible. “Just say it baby and I’ll make you feel good.”

If you weren’t so busy buried in his neck, you would see the breathtaking mix of apprehension and need flaring in his bright eyes while he debates how to answer you.

“I want you to use me. I-” he trails off and looks away, losing his nerve. 

You begin gently petting his hair and placing kisses on the side of his face. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” He looks back at you and his shining eyes and furrowed brow plead for the promise that you’re telling the truth. You give him a firm kiss on the lips, which he eagerly returns with a small suckle to your bottom lip. You pull back to check in, looking into his eyes, before encouraging him again. “Keep going, lovely. I wanna hear it.”

Buggy tenses once more before he seems to let his resistance break and fall out of every muscle, leaving him limp and prone amongst the pillows and sheets. “I want to be your toy - I want you to take charge and do what you want to me. I want.. I want to follow your orders.”

The kiss you gift him is ravenous, and he fills with relief. “You’re so good to me, baby,” you praise, and that relief triples.

You reassuringly squeeze his captive hands and lead your way back down his body with your lips. The transition helps relax him and loosens his mind again. As you get back to your sweet torture, he keeps reaching downward not remembering that his hands aren't there then whining when he doesn’t reach your head. You switch his hands to being clamped between your knees so you can scratch your nails down his thighs, using just enough pressure to leave long pink trails. Taking it further, you move your mouth away from his dick to work across his v-line. Buggy gets more fussy at the lack of attention on his cock, squirming and whimpering below you.

Mouth still busy on his soft skin, you use one hand to palm over his balls to the underside of his dick and curl your hand closed around him, one finger at a time. You angle his cock upright, enjoying the feeling of his precum beginning to trail down across your fingers. Your mouth changed course back closer to him, emptying his mind of any thoughts but “yes, yes, yes-”. He blanks out completely when your blazing hot tongue drags across his balls during a squeeze and a pump of his dick. The relief is short lived when your grip loosens and stills and your mouth leaves him completely. His head snaps down to see why you stopped and he sees that you’re already giving him a malicious smirk. Your eyes stay on his when you pucker your lips to blow on his aching tip. His head snaps back sharply, the movement exaggerated by his hair.

“You’re going so sloooow,” Buggy complains, frustrated. “I thought you were gonna take care of me.” He sounds impressively sulky.

“If you’re not happy with my services,” you start in a measured tone, moving forward until you are nose to nose, “then you can take care of yourself.” His face pales. You look down at his dick in your hand thoughtfully before saying, “Better yet I can just steal your cock and run off to the showers to take care of myself.”

“No!” Buggy wants it to come out like an order but it is definitely an anxious plea.

“Oh, so you’re telling me I can’t?” He shrinks even more under your glare, making you feel powerful.

“Just stay in here, pleeeease, need to see you feel good,” Buggy begs, voice small. “Don’t even need to cum, just need you.” 

You aren’t supposed to give in unless on your own time, but knowing that he’s only thinking of your pleasure is making you weak.

“I thought you wanted to be my good little toy and good toys don’t whine and make demands. They are happy with what they’re given if their owners give them anything at all.” He whimpers. “Right now you’re more of a fucking brat.”

“Noooooo,” his broken complaint sounded delicious, but the look on his face was nearing too close to real distress. 

“No?” You mock. You look down at him with a condescending pout. Your eyes bore into his, needing to notice every little detail of his next reaction. “Oh, baby, if you’re not a brat then you’re just a pussy-hungry slut.”

Buggy shuts his eyes and moans loudly at your words. The sound of his own voice calling you a cock-hungry slut many times over echoes from his memories. He didn’t think having his own insults turned on him would feel so invigorating. It’s clear to you that that is much more what he wants to be for you. Your slut; not your brat. How sweet. When all his layers are peeled back he only wants to please.

“That’s okay you sick little thing. You just can’t help it, can you?” He shakes his head with those gorgeous, shining eyes pleading at you. “If you’re so hungry, I guess I gotta feed you so you can shut. up.”

Before his mind even realizes that you began moving, you flip around and sit directly on his face. Your strong thighs are clamping his arms down to his sides, leaving his hands to be snatched up in your own again. You’ve positioned yourself so his mouth is at your clit and his nose is teasing your entrance. He gives a thick inhale and presses his tongue out to lap at you with a satisfied moan.

“Much better,” you groan, completely self-satisfied.

You waste no time before you begin rocking your hips. The room fills with the sloppy sounds of him licking and sucking at you, overly enthusiastic about having your pussy in his face.

“Now stick out that tongue for me,” you order, giving him his only warning before you drop much of your weight down to get the best pressure of his tongue, nose, and chin against you. The sensation has you clenching against the surface of his nose, getting it wet. You switch between a few long grinds from cupid’s bow to chin and making sharp circles of your clit on his tongue.

Buggy barely gets any time to fully breathe and he loves it. His head has become a murky swirl of your addicting taste and smell and the lovely sounds of you moaning for him. It sends pleasure prickling through him, making him burn with need, but he’s sure he’d stay on this painful precipice forever if it meant you kept using him to feel good. Buggy’s moans are becoming slurred whines as he gets drunk off your pussy. He was trying so hard to be perfect for you. He would stiffen his tongue to grind back into you or curl the end up for you to use on your clit. He’s ignoring his nerves at having his nose be an active participant, because he feels the way you follow its pressure. His hands are clamped on yours, floating in front of you to give you better leverage to move. He’s done good to not pull either of them away and give his leaking cock the relief it desperately needs. He deserves a reward.

You bring his hands in to place them on your breasts, where they need no direction to start working you. The warm, grounding pressure of them kneading your breasts is broken up by little circles, pinches, and pulls to your nipples that send tingles to your spine and straight down to your clit. Once they’re settled on you, you curl forward to place your head back in front of his red, twitching dick. You put your elbows down by Buggy’s sides and take advantage of the fact that he’s too lost between your legs to notice where you’ve put your face.

Buggy arches and yelps when you blow strong, cold air on his head and tease your fingertips along his Apollo's belt. His utter excitement at your attention shows in his bucking hips and pressing face. His whole body is buzzing with the thought, “I did good!”

“Your mouth is fucking good, perfect for an eager slut” you praise. Buggy keens loudly into you, sending strong vibrations through your pussy. “I’ll have to steal your head as my seat more often.” You flick your tongue on his frenulum, earning a strong twitch. “I’ll hunt you down any time I need to cum and force you down under me,” you promise in a husky voice. 

Finally, you slide him into your mouth and moan at the familiar taste and weight and heat. He’s as sensitive as you’ve ever seen him, hips and cock jerking. You tease a hand down to cup his balls and feel them pull tight while his dick starts a familiar pulse, his voice going wild in your ears. Oh?

“Not so fast, stupid doll,” you warn, moving your hand to make a tight ring around the base of his cock. “Thought you could just cum without getting me off first?”

Buggy tries to get out apologies but his mouth is too busy buried in your pussy.

“I’m touching you as a reward. Don’t get greedy,” you scold. Then you’re putting him back in your mouth and he’s sobbing under your cunt. You couldn’t do anything more than light sucking and trailing your hands on him before you’d have to pull back and keep him from cumming. Each time, he’d try to apologize and each time he would look and sound more and more pathetic. By the time you feel the pressure of your own orgasm pulsing throughout your hips, he’s shaking like a leaf.

The crackling complaint Buggy let out when you pulled yourself off of his face was heartbroken. His fingers slipped and pulled as they made their way from your breasts down to your hips, where they weakly tried to pull you back down on him.

“Shhh sweet boy,” you soothed, placing your hands reassuringly over his, “I’m just gonna use your cock now, gotta give that pretty face a break.”

That quickly distracts him from the loss of your touch, if his urgent pleas and raised hips are anything to go by. You get down to his hips and lean forward slightly, gripping firmly onto each of his warm thighs for stability. You admire the lines that twist over them as his muscles move and react to you. Feeling a little bit sadistic, you grip them hard enough to bruise and hover just close enough to his cock so that he feels the heat of you there but only the ghost of your touch.

“Please touch me,” he begs. “So close, need to feel you-”

Buggy continues to babble and you continue to hover, delighting in the way his dick would sometimes jump up to tap your entrance, electrifying both of you. He squirms under the strength and weight of your grasp on his thighs, trying to chase you with his hips. Suddenly, he splits his legs off above your grip and is finally able to grind fully into you, gliding smoothly through the thick mix of slick, spit, and precum between you. An absurdly hot groan rushes out of him, starting as all exhale before morphing into a loud tone supported by a rumble in his chest. Your mind blanks with your own gasping moan before you recenter yourself and let your dead weight drop on him, shoving his hips deeply down into the mattress.

You had angled your hips to save your clit from all pressure but the tap of his balls when they bounced up from the impact, but Buggy was given no such mercy. The first hit between your weight and the bed presses his cock near painfully between the two of you, but he can’t deny the way the feeling sent prickles across his every nerve and the relief after it let up has him baring his teeth in his bid to not cum. Instead of nice grinds, you simply oscillate your weight around your hips to keep giving him too much stimulation but not the right kind.

“Am I not doing good enough for you?” you ask, voice carrying a warning that he better answer properly.

“N-no I love it, I was just-”

“Just what?” you interrupt, hand moving from bruising his thigh to cup his balls, adding to the threat in your tone.

“Couldn’t think! S-sorry, I’m sorry -hhhanh- ” Buggy keeps his apologies streaming because he can’t stop disobeying you - he can’t help making tight little movements of his hips against you to feel more of you.

“Having trouble being the one fucked stupid, little whore?” you goad. “Don’t like being so pussy-whipped you can’t think like a person anymore?”

“I love it,” he moans, fiercer than you expected. “Need it -hahh- need you, I’m yours, need to be yours.”

Fuck, you need to get him inside you; you were too close to cumming empty from hearing him talk like that. You keep the hand on his balls, starting to fondle them, and use the other to line him up with your entrance. You can already feel bliss curling in your toes as his fat head presses at you, but Buggy does the last thing you expect - he pulls back.

“No!” his voice breaks and you whip around, scared that something was wrong. He’s staring at you with wide, wet eyes. “Turn around, please, please, wanna see you.” You relaxed knowing he wasn’t hurt or scared or uncomfortable. He begins to have trouble looking at you, turning his head away shyly and letting some of his hair sweep over to shield his face. “Want you to look at me.”

You’re getting whiplash after being thrown from panic to overwhelmed with affection so quickly. You move slowly and smoothly when you turn yourself around and slink your body down over him. You rest on your elbows and slowly lower your hips back down to him, this time grinding his head against your clit generously. Buggy’s head spins between the fire you’re tending in him and the loving way you hold his face and brush away his hair.

“You sure you can take it, honey?” you ask softly. “You can’t even look at me right now.”

“I can!” he asserts, needing to prove himself to you. He turns his face to yours and flicks his gaze to your eyes and away a few times before he’s able to lock eyes with you. You pet his face and continue your smooth grinding, taking the time to look at him like he wants you to. Buggy’s face is the most beautiful shade of pathetic you’d ever seen; shimmering tear tracks highlight skin that is pink and flushed and damp with sweat. The color of his cheeks brings out the ruby color of his nose and you can’t resist brushing your own nose against it. He tries to flinch back but you follow him. When he turns his face away, you lure him back to you with sweet kisses. When he faces you again, you intensify the stable grinding you’ve kept up to nudge him a little closer to the edge once again.

“So pretty,” you whisper, reverent and honest. Your eyes are looking right into his, seeing him in a way that has him feeling worshiped. Loving fingers map out the structure of his cheekbones and jaw, moving on to chart his lips. They kiss at your fingertips sweetly. “I have the prettiest toy on the seas. Better than any other treasure.”

He perks up at that, giving you a moan and bucking hips.

“You wanna be my treasure?” you ask, getting an immediate, breathy “yes” from him.

“Well I love every bit of my treasures, from their gems to their dents,” you tell him. “After they’ve caught my eye with their beauty, the only thing they need to do to stay my treasures is let me care for every piece of them.” You brush your noses together again, staring at him pointedly. “Can you do that for me?”

There’s real conflict in Buggy’s eyes and you slow your hips to let him think. After a few long breaths, his whole body tenses and he nudges his nose back into yours in a hesitant eskimo kiss.

You turn your head and crash your lips on his in a consuming kiss full of teeth and tongue and praises. You’re bursting with your pride and love from his show of trust and he’s lost in the flood of your acceptance. Your hips are insistent again and, without breaking the kiss, you reach down and, at last, guide his cock into you.

Buggy cranes his head back again, so you switch to sucking and biting his neck. You can’t taste or feel enough of him, he’s not close enough. Even when he’s deep enough to lick at your cervix you need more of him. Even though he’s wedged you open enough for you to feel the pressure of it in your hips. Even though he’s crammed between your legs, ringing in your ears, sinking under your nails, sitting on your tongue, filling your breath - none of it is enough, so you keep taking more from him.

Though his hands have found their way onto your hips countless times, this grip felt foreign. Normally they’d hold firm and sure and guide you to move just how he needs you to. Right now, his grip is somehow tighter even though it’s all pawing and clawing. He has no control on how you fuck him, he’s just desperately trying to hold on for the ride and grasp more you - he’d do absolutely anything if it meant he’d get a single bit closer to you - to knowing nothing in this world other than every inch, every sound, every feeling that you have to offer. And then he’d beg for even more.

“Talk to me, treasure, tell me how you feel,” you urge. 

“I -mngh!- I-I feel-” Buggy gasps out. It’s clear he’s trying to listen to you but that pretty little head of his is scrambled. He keeps his foggy eyes on you in an attempt to focus, despite how much they want to roll back behind fluttering lids. He pants and moans a few more times before licking his lips and trying again. “-’s good, so good, s-so -uungh- s’gooooood -hahh-”

“That’s my good man, my perfect treasure, my sweet love,” you coo somewhere between a whisper and a moan. The way he’s stretching you open, rubbing at you with his hot cockhead is fraying your control. The freedom to call him “love” sends flutters through your chest. Buggy is just as desperate for the claim, each time he hears the word a keening whine answers it.

“Please, please, need you to cum,” he pants. “Can’t -hhah- c-can’t-”

“You can and you will.” The command leaves no room for argument.

You’re getting so close, feeling the promise of your release in the tingle of your fingers, the heat searing through your trembling thighs, and the tight gripping in your body all the way from your throat to your pussy. The feelings pulse stronger with each clap of your hips to Buggy, each time his thick cock shoves you open and lights up every buzzing nerve that it rubs through your walls.

“Fuck, love, you can cum.” He feels your lips form the words against his racing pulse. It’s hard to keep track of what you’re saying through the white out in your head and the heat licking through your entire body.  Your words rush out desperately, trying to get your scattered thoughts to him through a heavy tongue and a lack of air. “You’re so, so good, feel so good, gonna cum so fucking hard, love it so much, fuck, love how you make me feel so good-”

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you-” he gasps out on loop as his hips stutter and his cock jumps, filling you up. His pathetic thanks and the feeling of him releasing into you send you over the edge and everything burns so good. Your body involuntarily bucks and trembles on him for a few seconds where you have no say. You find yourself caving into him under the weight of your clenching muscles. Every clench of your cunt around him feels long and gripping and lets your swollen walls feel him with a little more detail. You make small, slow circles of your hips to wring out his climax, which seems never ending. Rush after rush of hot cum fills you until it’s spilling back into his lap, but his hands still encourage your movements and his body still shakes and trembles and he still babbles praises into your shoulder. Even when the aftershocks are settling to fewer and further between, he lets out a pathetic whine any time you stop moving in an attempt to give him some respite. After indulging him in another minute of overstimulation, you slowly lift off of him, receiving an upset groan. You hush him with trailing hands and sweet kisses, which he happily returns.

When his breathing is finally steady, you take a moment to check him over. His face is so relaxed he actually looks knocked out, but he does hum in response to your light squeeze on his shoulder. Buggy’s lashes have always been beautiful, but they look especially nice sending shadows across his cheek bones. His hair is a wild mess around him, and it feels silky between your fingers when you detangle it. His broad chest is still moving a bit fast with his breath, but each rise is a bit larger and longer. You admire the way his breathing moves the red spots and pink streaks decorating him, especially enjoying their contrast to his blue chest hair. His throat bobbing on a heavy swallow points your attention back upwards, and you admire the way his dark stubble makes his jaw even sharper. A little higher, you notice how red and swollen his lips are and how shining tear tracks dry across his face. You’d never seen him so fucked out. It looks gorgeous on him.

Since Buggy is calm and settling, it’s time to get up and clean you both up a bit. This time he communicates his displeasure at your absence with a petulant grunt. You turn back with a raised brow to sass him but break out in laughter instead when you see he couldn't even muster the energy to turn his head toward you. You don’t think this man has even opened his eyes since before he came.

“Don’t worry, love, I’m just getting a towel to clean up.”

A begrudging grunt.

Good enough.

After quickly taking care of yourself, you reappear with a warm, damp towel. The moment Buggy feels your weight back on the bed, he musters all of his remaining strength and pulls you on top of him. You giggle while he grumbles something into your shoulder.

“One more time, Bugs.”

He sighs like you are the most unreasonable person he has ever met, and you laugh at the deja vu you’re feeling. His lips move up to your ear and you hum happily at the tingles his breath leaves behind. “You took too long.”

You roll your eyes. “Sorry, your highness. Just trying to make sure we don’t wake up sticky in a puddle. Now come on, it’s your turn.”

On the third attempt to pull back, he finally lets you go (with yet another grumble) and you set to work on wiping him down. You begin with his face, enjoying the hum he lets out at the light warmth in the soft cloth, and move down to his neck. You spend a little bit of extra time on his shoulders and chest, massaging between swipes of the towel. He obnoxiously flings each arm at you when you are ready for them, just to hear you laugh another time. He enjoys the emptiness of his head while you move to his calves and work your way up. On his thighs and stomach, you sprinkle sweet kisses that leave his heart feeling gooey. He falls in love with you all over again when you blow a raspberry on his side to rouse him once he gets too close to dozing off.

He thinks he is all out of aftershocks until he is savoring the last few when you finish cleaning him up. You leave a loving kiss on the sensitive skin just inside his hip bone, before standing up, again to a groan. Buggy was always touchy after sex (and honestly touchy in general; you’re surprised he doesn’t demand you to hold a detached hand at all hours) but this is something else. It has you thinking of how much you crave his affirming touch whenever he is pushy or rough with you during sex. You’re both lucky that you find his pouting endlessly endearing. Grabbing the blankets that had fallen from the foot of the bed, you finally make your way back to him.

“Took you long enough.” Buggy’s words are bratty, but his tone is sweet and starstruck. He’s making sure to enjoy the last bit of seeing you clearly before you turn off the light.

“Fine - next time I’ll throw you a towel and go find a clean hammock for myself,” you tease. “That should be much quicker.” You plop onto the bed next to Buggy, jostling him, and you fluff the blankets out over the two of you.

“Noooooooooo,” he whines. “You’d leave me to fend for myself like that? I’d die.” Even with the dark, the way you two move to intertwine is coordinated and sure, played out many times before.

“I’m pretty sure there’s cryptid in your bloodline; you should do just fine with survival,” you laugh, snuggling deeper into him. As always, a deep inhale of him (saltwater, spices, leather, smoke, musk) has you immersed in your safe space. “Aren’t you the self-proclaimed untamable man, oh great Captain Buggy?”

“I’ve been domesticated-” you guffaw “-and it’s all your fault so you need to take some responsibility for your actions.”

You settle your laughter and look to meet his gaze. By now your eyes have adjusted just enough for you to see the moonlight from the porthole reflecting in his eyes. The unguarded affection you spot in them stalls your breath.

“Okay.” The word promises much more than he had asked. The meaning seems to reach him, because he holds you just that much closer and plants a lingering kiss to the top of your head. 

The brushing of the waves on the thick wooden sides of the ship guides your breath to deepen. The creaking of wooden boards and distant thunking of feet on the deck comfort you with their familiarity. Buggy is just barely hanging onto consciousness, trying to keep his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on your skin. The last things your mind holds onto are the warmth seeping from Buggy’s body, the gentleness of those calloused fingertips, and the sleepy slur of his tender mumble.

“Goodnight, my brightest star.”

[letsgetrowdy43]

can you do something for mark estapa with the prompt “just let me take care of you?"

She's Got a Temper

Mark was an avid fighter, everyone knew it, whether it was on or off the ice that boy was always finding himself in conflict. The only exception being her, he was so gentle with her. Trading in the aggression for gentle touches and longing glances.

They weren’t officially dating, they didn’t need the label to prove that they were in love with one another. Besides everyone knew that she was Mark's girl, the girl who could perfectly balance his emotions with just simply being around.

This brought us to now, a loud party in the senior hockey boy's house, a typical weekend night. She’d stuck by Ethan and Duker most of the night waiting for Mark to finally arrive after his late night Friday class.

“Where’s stop sign?” Luke asked as he joined in the beer pong-watching gallery, a big showdown between Mackie and Luca. “Just texted me that he’s on the way” she smiled as Luca did a celebratory dance around the kitchen, rubbing the loss right in Mackie’s face, gaining laughs and hollers from the people surrounding.

“I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get another beer” she looked over to Ethan who nodded and ushered for her to grab him one as well. The one thing about these parties is beside the boys, her own best friends, and the few people she shared classes with, she knew absolutely no one.

Walking up to the back door where hers and Eddy’s shared twenty-four pack was she saw someone talking something from it. “I’m sorry, that’s not yours bud” she grinned with furrowed brows and waited for him to put it back. “Are you sure?” “I’m like a hundred percent sure those are mine,” she said making her grin fall and her lips going tight-lipped as she looked between him and the box clearly labelled “Y/N/N and Eddy’s!!”

He laughed and scanned the girl, “pretty girls don’t drink beer,” he joked, but not a single laugh left her lips. "That is rather sexist of you" she in a dry tone.

He was tall, not that tall, but definitely had some inches on her, taking notice as he made a step a little closer to get a better look at her. The interaction was getting a little too much for her, “are you gonna put it back? Or are you just gonna stand there checking me out?” “I love a girl with an attitude” she scoffed.

He was merely inches away from her face, too close for comfort before his free hand found the dip in her hip. She laughed dryly before turning around to walk away, deciding her beer wasn’t worth her next actions.

“Oh come on, I just wanted to show you a fun time” he laughed sickly before she turned around, her fist connected with his nose. Gasps erupted as his grip on her waist tightened, “get your hand off of me” she spat before kicking him right in the groin as he fell to his knees.

A laugh left Grano’s lips before he walked over to the girl to usher her away from the guy groaning on the floor, “you think she’s bad, wouldn’t want to piss off her boyfriend” the much taller hockey boy said to the guy who was wounded on the floor. “One second ” she put her hand up to make the boy stop pulling her away, she bent down and ripped the two cans of beer from his arms before standing back up and smiling again as Nick smiled at her now cheery attitude before walking her back to the boys.

“Keep your eyes on this one” Grano laughed while passing her off to Mark whose smile faltered after looking at her bruised knuckles. “Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be fighting one?” Mark asked sweetly while taking her hand into his to look at the broken skin. She pouted, “he stole my beer” Mark looked up at her and laughed as she handed Ethan his beer.

“You’re gonna need ice,” he said dropping her hand and walking over to the fridge. “It’s fine Mark, really” she smiled and kissed him on the cheek as he rolled his eyes at her dismissals. “Just let me take care of you” he mumbled and placed another kiss on her temple before walking over to the freezer to get an ice pack.

Thank you she said, putting an ice pack on her knuckles before finding comfort under his arms, placing a soft kiss on his chest as he pulled her in closer.

“Anything for you babe” he mumbled before returning to watching the boys with their cup-pong antics

[guysgetbigger]

Owen the Farmhand: Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The First Day on the Farm

The old farmhouse stood tall against the endless stretch of fields, its weathered planks and creaking roof whispering secrets of years long past. It was here that I, Owen, a slender 17-year-old boy of mere 5'6" and a hundred pounds, had come to work. The farmer, Mr. Thompson, towered over me at 6'0" and a strong, hefty 220 pounds. His size suited his role as the man in charge on the farm.

On my first day, Mr. Thompson couldn't help but jest at my small stature. "You're a bit on the scrawny side, aren't ya?" he chortled, his deep voice resonating across the yard. His son, Rick, 5'10" and 180 pounds, joined in the mockery. It was clear I was going to be the target of their jabs.

With every task, every moment of standing in crowded corridors with these larger folks, I felt increasingly out of place amidst the brawny laborers. My insecurities gnawed at me, but I was determined to prove myself. With each duty, I put my heart into it, hoping that one day I might be considered more than just the "small kid" on the farm.

The Thompsons fed me breakfast, lunch and dinner every day in their cozy kitchen. Mrs. Thompson, a kind and soft-spoken woman, prepared the meals with love and care. She was a keenly observant woman, well aware of the teasing I endured, and her empathy showed in the small, reassuring smiles she offered me.

Noticing how small I was and how much smaller I felt, Mrs. Thompson began sneaking something special into my meals. The flavor was subtle, a touch of something earthy and sweet that I couldn't quite place, and I didn't realize until much later that she was only sprinkling it into my plates. It wasn't just a unique flavor: the real magic lay in its effects. It made me hungrier, and with a few extra bites of Mrs. Thompson's cooking I could feel my body changing, gradually and imperceptibly feeling stronger and sturdier with every meal.

In the privacy of my room each night, I'd scrutinize my reflection in the dim candlelight. Every day, I seemed to gain a pound or two. My clothes became a bit snug, my muscles just a little more defined. I marveled at the subtle growth, feeling a swell of excitement and pride. I was becoming more than just the "small kid." My smooth skin was starting to gain some body hair, and I was gaining a nice shape to my pecs. I was finally starting to look like a man!

As the weeks passed, I started to notice new little milestones as Mrs Thompson tailored larger fits for me and I found myself not feeling quite as small around the others. The farmer and his son remained oblivious, too preoccupied with their own duties and preconceived ideas of how small I was to them. But I reveled in the small triumphs, feeling my insecurities melt away with every new pound I gained.

Not only was I adding pounds to my frame, I was also growing slightly taller every few days! This was thrilling to me, as I'd been waiting since middle school for a growth spurt to kick in. Whatever was happening to me, I was delighted and here for it.

One sunny morning, I stood next to Mr. Thompson while we inspected the crops. His broad shoulders loomed over me, but I couldn't help but notice that the gap between our heights had lessened. It was subtle, and I don't think he noticed, but it was progress. I held my head a little higher that day.

Rick, too, couldn't resist a sly grin when he saw me lifting a bale of hay with more ease than before. "Looks like the little man is finally becoming useful," he teased. I wondered if he noticed I wasn't so little any more. Our four inch gap had lessened, as I was probably standing at 5'8" now.

Unbeknownst to them, and with the silent support of Mrs. Thompson, I was slowly growing into my own. The transformation was quiet, almost unnoticeable, but it was happening. And with each subtle change, I took another step toward proving that I was a bigger than they realized.

[ittybluebell]

The Glue Trap (daredevil g/t)

Finch is stuck in a glue trap that Matt forgot about. He rushes to save them.

Tiny was silent.

It wasn't uncommon - there was the odd time they went down to another apartment, a result of Matt lacking in the goods department.

Suspicious, Matt did another sweep. No, he found. Tiny was still here. They were… quiet. Not moving. Somewhere under the stairs to the roof. Their heartrate was elevated. Their breaths were quick, stuttering, with an undercurrent of sniffles. They sounded all too much like someone Matt wouldn't second guess saving out on the street.

Tiny grunted under strain. There was a strange sound under their feet, like mud.

Matt jolted as if electrocuted. He forgot a trap.

What followed was Matt lunging for the loose floorboard. He tried to estimate how long they'd been stuck. Since he left this morning? The pungent scent of glue wisped into the air and guilt twisted inside him. How could he forget? Were there others? How long had Tiny been there?

There was still food in their stomach. The smell of strawberry and wheat cracker was fresh on their breath. Matt felt a tinge of relief, replaced by guilt again - not nearly as long as he'd feared, but any length of time was too long.

Tiny's reaction was one of their squeak-yelps and a subsequent stabbing.

Matt hissed, "Ow," and flinched back when something sharp stung his finger. Tiny made another motion to defend themself and Matt withdrew his arm. "Y'know, most people don't attack the person trying to save them," he said, mildly put out. He understood he was an actual, literal giant here, but give him some credit.

Alright, so he should have announced his intentions first - that was on him.

Matt said, "I don't want to hurt you. I'm trying to help."

"The hell you are!" Tiny bellowed with all the ferocity contained in their little body. It was an unexpectedly Herculean amount. "Who set the traps in the first place, huh? Then you come in tryin' to snatch me up like a damn claw machine. 'Help' my ass!"

"I'm trying to help. I'm sorry about the traps - really, I am. I thought I got all of them out. I'm truly sorry. Will you let me fix this? Without stabbing me again? Please?"

A contemplative silence fell over the two. It was only respectful to ask: as someone who'd been stabbed and shot and hit more times than he could remember, Matt could handle a poke or two. But he didn't like being grabbed without his consent - why would someone who's just a few inches tall?

What even was that weapon, a nail?

…he should update his vaccines.

"You don't plan to lock me up and reveal me to the world for fame and wealth or ship me off to scientists that'll experiment on me?" Tiny asked suspiciously.

That was… shockingly specific. And all completely valid concerns. "No."

"Liar."

"I'm not. In God's name, I swear I'm not lying. Would I be trying to gain your trust if that was my goal? Why would I bother?"

"I guess… you just don't want me to stab you again."

"Oh, for- I owe Foggy several apologies if this is what he deals with."

Tiny agreed to let him help after admitting they were prepared to die anyway - ouch - and that being captured by a 'bean' - what? - really couldn't be worse. A win was a win and Matt didn't argue, reaching under the floorboards to rescue them.

It was a surreal experience for both parties. Feeling a tiny, human body fit in his hand, and for Finch, a massive hand wrapping around them. They were stiff as a board, bracing against fingers as wide as their torso. For every borrower, this was the worst case. This was the nightmare that made children hide under the covers. A human had discovered them - was holding them. Finch resisted the urge to bite and scrap and do anything in their limited power to free themself. A second hand pressed down on the edges of the trap and then Finch was being pried off. The glue was reluctant to let them go and threatened to claim their boots as a prize. Finch squawked and fought to keep them.

"Shit," Finch blurted. "Oh, sewers. Fuck me running. Mother of termites. Pissberry."

The glue released. Matt lifted both borrower and trap out of the floor and rose from his prone position.

[kaulitzsblog]

What's Happening..?

Part 2♡♡

Bill kaulitz x fem reader.

Summary: Y/n isn't feeling well she was in the hospital for an unknown illness, Bill there being by her side every day doing anything to make her feel better. She slowly starts gaining feelings for him, and he feels the same way🫣

Word count : 1.5k

Days turned into weeks, and Y/n found herself confined to a sterile hospital room, surrounded by the constant beeping of machines and the scent of antiseptic. Doctors and nurses came and went, running tests and performing procedures, but still no one could figure out what was wrong with her.

Throughout this ordeal, there was one person who never left Y/n's side, bill.Their bond had grown stronger over these past couple of days.

Bill would sit by Y/n's bedside, holding her hand and offering words of comfort. Y/n found solace in his presence, and his unwavering support gave her the strength to keep fighting he made everything better and less painful.

One evening, as Y/n lay in bed, exhausted from another round of tests, she drifted off to sleep. Bill watched her intently, his heart filled with both worry and adoration. He gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch as light as a feather.

Y/n stirred slightly, but her eyes remained closed. Bill smiled softly, marveling at her peaceful expression. In that moment, he realized just how beautiful she was, even in the midst of her pain and uncertainty. He couldn't help but feel a surge of emotions, a mix of love, longing, and a desire to protect her from any harm.

As the days turned into weeks, Y/n's condition remained a mystery. Doctors consulted with specialists from around the world, searching for answers. Bill never left her side, even canceling concerts and appearances to be there for her. He was determined to support her through this difficult journey, no matter how long it took.

One day, a breakthrough finally came. A renowned specialist discovered a rare condition that had been overlooked by the previous doctors. With this newfound knowledge, a treatment plan was put into motion, giving Y/n hope for the first time in months.

•~A few months later•~

Y/n was slowly getting better with the treatments. Bill, who was now in love with her, admired her personality and found her sweet and beautiful. He believed she had an angelic voice that he had never heard from anyone before. Bill was completely captivated by her.

One day, Bill asked y/n how she was feeling. She replied, "Feeling better than ever!" She was finally released from the hospital, and she packed her belongings that Bill and the rest of the band had brought for her. As she packed, she couldn't help but recall the sweet things Bill had said to her when she had her eyes closed, thinking she was asleep.

Bill had expressed his feelings for her, and it stirred a mix of emotions within y/n. She realized that she had developed a deep connection with Bill. She admired the way he looked, so effortlessly beautiful. He was tall and somewhat muscular, always dressed uniquely in a way that set him apart from others in a good way. He was truly one of a kind.

As y/n finished packing, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and nervousness about what the future held for her. She knew that her and bills connection was special and that they had the potential for something amazing. "Bill..?" Y/n whispered to him. " Yes Princess what's up?" He responded. Y/n instantly got flustered at his words and how soft his voice sounded. " Thank you" Y/n said in a low whisper . Bill got close to y/n both now inches away from each other. He whispered in her ear "anything for you beautiful". His warm breathe hitting y/n's neck sending a shivers down her back. |God Hes so handsome | y/n thought ot herself. Bill walked out to grab some snacks for them. Meanwhile Y/n organized her things to pack up.

•After a while•

Bill had been patiently waiting for y/n to finish packing, approached her with a warm smile. He gently took her hand and said, "Are you ready to get back on that stage, rockstar?"

Y/n nodded, her heart racing with anticipation. "Yes, Bill. I'm so excited.Thank you for everything. Im so grateful to have you in my life."

Bill pulled her into a tight embrace, his arms enveloping her with warmth and love. "And I'm so thankful that you're finally out of the hospital and that we can start singing together again. Just me and you, "He gently spoke. "You mean the world to me, y/n."

Tears welled up in y/n's eyes as she looked up at Bill. "You mean the world to me too, Bill. I never thought I would find someone who understands me the way you do."

Bill wiped away her tears gently. "I will always be here for you, y/n. Through the good times and the bad, I promise to love and support you."

Y/n smiled, feeling a sense of peace and contentment wash over her. She knew that with Bill by her side, she could conquer anything that came their way. Y/n was carrying some bags that were somewhat heavy. "Need help ?" Bill asked. " No, I can do this. I'm a strong, independent woman." Y/n replied. Bill laughed at her comment. " yea okay sure" he said, smiling. Bill ended up helping y/n carry her bags into his car. They both got in. Y/n admired bills side profile while he was starting the car. He was so beautiful in a way that he had feminine features but also masculine. She looked at how his jawline was sharp and defined. His honey colored eyes blistened in the light. His hands looked soft and somehow gentle. They finally got to the mansion.

Y/n went in first Bill carrying her stuff inside. "SURPRISE!!" Tom, georg, and gustav all yelled. There was decorations all over the place a big sign on the wall hanging written *WELCOME BACK Y/N* "Thank you all for this " y/n said she felt so touched at the fact that they cared about her and even took the time to organise everything for her. She felt her eyes water. A tear rolled down her cheek. Nobody has ever done something like this for her. "Y/n, what's wrong ?? Why are you crying? " georg came up to her comforting her. "I'm sorry, I just never really had people do this for me it's my first time, and I feel so touched," She replied with a shaky breath. " Aw, it's okay y/n we will always be here for you no matter what. We care about you so much, " gustav said in a heart-warming tone . He came up to her, giving her a big warm hug accompanied by Tom and georg. Bill walked in, watching them have a group hug. " What about me?" he said in a funny, annoyed tone. They were now all hugging y/n. She finally really felt loved.

She had a big smile on her face. "Thank you all for this. It really means so much to me. I'll always cherish this moment forever. I love you guys." She said, her voice cracking in between sentences. "Y/n" Bill

Spoke with a soft smile. " Come upstairs in 10 minutes, okay?" He said. (Oooooh) Tom and Georg mumbled each smirking at each other while Gustav was focused on the tv.

After 10 minutes passed, y/n walked upstairs, knocking on bills' bedroom door. " Who is it ??" He asked. " It's me y/n you wanted to see me?" Y/n replied back a bit confused on why he wanted to speak to her privately. She wanted to express her feelings to him for a while now but things didn't go as planned since she was stuck in the hospital for a while, wasn't the best place ro confess is what she thought to herself. After a while of waiting Bill opened the door asking y/n to close her eyes before going in. Y/n shuts her eyes. Bill leads y/n into the room. "You can open now " he said. She opened her eyes she looked at the rose pettles on the floor decorations hung up. Their was so many gifts on the bed, then she saw it . Her jaw dropped.

There was a big poster hung up. * Will you be my girlfriend?* Her eyes instantly became watery and blurry she turned to Bill who was patiently standing behind her waiting for an answer , He was anxious. She quickly turned around tightly hugging him " Yes of course oh my God I can't believe this" She spoke. Tears rolling off her cheek. Bill hugged her back tightly. He had a big smile on his face. He gently pulled y/n chin up and before you knew it there lips connected. Y/n was shocked at first but then relaxed and closed her eyes. His lips were soft and smooth. He gently lowered his hands down, now on her lower back. He pulled her in even closer to him both bodys not touching. He still managed keeping the kiss locked in. After a while they pulled away gasping for air. Y/n was red as a tomato now. " I love you y/n ever since I laid my eyes on you, I knew you would be the one for me." He spoke out. Y/n didn't hesitate anymore and pulled him in for another kiss she'd always dreamed off this moment.Shed been craving him every time they were together. The end.🫶🏽

(Guys, I'm new to this, so I'm sorry if this is bad pls don't hate😭 any tips would be useful. Lmk what else I should do 💗🫶🏽)

[freedomatwhatcosttfp]

Chapter 4: Tired and Distracted on the Battlefield

Could he be himself again?...

His servo trembled slightly as he stood there, pondering the situation. Would it work? What if the matrix only returned him to his old state of mind instead of him as a whole? But then again, what choice does he have? To be himself again and ... to be free?.. His servo inched closer to the armour shielding the matrix from the outside. He was so close, all he would have to do was-

* Knock Knock *

" Uh, Sir! Ratchet found an energon mine signal but there are a few Decepticons near the area and we need you to come with..." Bumblebee buzzed from behind the door. Optimus's servo stayed held above his chassis for a moment longer before he snapped out of hit. He took a deep vent as he straightened himself up, the mask slipping back in place as he turned towards the door. " Very well, thank you for informing me, Bumblebee. I shall meet you at the ground bridge momentarily ", his voice steeled as not to let the scout hear any signs of his distress from a moment ago, the other bots must have gotten back from dropping off the kids already...How long was he in here for? " Thank you, sir, we will be waiting for you... and uh, sir? It might be best to stop by the medbay before we head out...just a thought ". Optimus listened as the young bot walked away down the hall, wondering what had brought on that idea. He thought for a moment before looking down at his servos. Once he was sure that the other bot had left, he opened his door and immediately looked down towards his pedes. Just as he thought... there had been a small trail of energon leading towards his door. His servos had stopped leaking energon at this point but you could still see the tiniest hint of blue as the injury had stained his servos. 

' Hopefully, he kept this to himself...' he thought as he closed and locked his door. There was nothing worth hiding nor did he distrust his fellow teammates but it had become a nervous habit of his over the years... He did his best not to remember the day he started locking his door. 

Optimus decided not to visit the medbay and instead headed straight to the main control room. His steps were awfully slow as he traveled down the desolate, and dim hallway. In choosing their rooms, he had opted for the one furthest away from the main area, claiming that it would be the best for getting some quiet time after a long day but... Optimus shook his head. He needed to be focused and in control now, he could not afford to get distracted again. He turned down another hallway as he drew closer to the main room. 

He saw Bumblebee standing near the ground bridge, looking lost in thought. Bulkhead and Arcee stood a little off to the side, discussing the recent mission that the wrecker and scout had just been on earlier in the day. However, Ratchet immediately met his optics as soon as he walked into the room. Optimus could see his concern, he too wanted to discuss the earlier confrontation but it would simply have to wait until they got back. He looked back at his friend and silently mouthed ' later ' to imply that they would have a chance to talk. Ratchet nodded and turned to the others, calling out their names to gain their attention. 

" Now, I know you all have only just returned and the two of you" he pointed at Bulkhead and Bumblebee " have been on a mission all day but, this is the first large energon mine we have discovered in a deca-cycle and we are starting to get into the danger zone on our energon preserves. Now, there are a few Decepticons in the area, not in the mine, but nearby. I suspect they are searching for it as well but we still need to" Optimus listened to his friend give out instructions, glad to have his friend take over while he got his bearings. He silently chuckled as Ratchet held a wrench, threatening them if they got hurt.

The medic turned to Optimus and nodded, signifying that he was done speaking, and headed over to the controls. He nodded back as he turned to his team and started to walk toward the now powered-on ground bridge. " Autobots, we are to remain vigilant and we shall do our best to not alert the Decepticons to our location. That being said, let's roll out!" Optimus said, putting on his 'Prime' voice and transformed. The others nodded as they transformed to follow him.

After a short minute, they reached the other side and were greeted with a dense forest. Optimus scanned the other and found a small group of mountains to the east of them. The sun was starting to set so he urged his team to move quickly as they followed him. What they didn't see, was a small sleek drone flying above the area, having picked up movement through its sensors, it reported its findings to the owner while flying a good distance behind the team.

It was a few earth hours before they reached the mine entrance, the dense forest making it harder for the larger bots to make their way through the foliage. Optimus had to admit, if they were not on a mission at the moment, this would have been a nice area to relax. He left his thoughts and assigned Arcee and Bumblebee to scout out the mine to see if the enemy had reached it while he and Bulkhead stood watch outside. After a while of searching, they had confirmed that it had yet been touched. Optimus was just about to comm Ratchet to request a ground bridge to transport the energon when he heard a noise. The forest had been relatively quiet except for the native animals so the noise caught him off guard. 

He quickly and quietly onlined his weapons and scanned the area. Bulkhead, seeing his leader on alert, onlined his weapons as well. Bumblebee and Arcee had come out of the mine, holding a couple of cubes of energon, expecting there to be a ground bridge, and asked what was going on. That's when Optimus had spotted it... Laserbeak was flying closer to them above the trees and started to open fire. They all dove out of the way to dodge and fired their own shots back.

Suddenly Vehicons started to come out of the foliage and attack as well, driving them apart. Optimus smacked himself mentally for not realizing they were being followed and realized that he and his team were being separated. He tried to fight his way back when he heard a sickening familiar laugh. He turned towards the noise as a silver fist came flying at his face plate. 

" Well, Optimus! Isn't this a surprise? " Megatron chuckled. " And here I thought you were losing the fight in you, none of my soldiers reported you fighting in a while ". Optimus only steeled himself as he engaged his battle mask. "...Fine then " The warlord smirked as he engaged his blade and swung towards Optimus.

The two began what to others almost looked like a dance. One leader dodging a blow with such grace and the other executing perfectly timed strikes that seemed to flow like the wind around them. This pattern went on continuously, vorns of fighting showed through as they traded offensive blows. 

The Autobots were slowly getting rid of some of the Decepticons, struggling a bit with the heavy hitters but continued fighting nonetheless. Each, one by one, would glance at their leader as he fought the violent warlord and wanted badly to run over and help him before getting drawn into another fight. 

Optimus on the other hand, had started to tire. His stress from earlier in the day had drained a bit of energy and with the lack of energon, he hadn't had a chance to fuel that day. Either way, he would keep fighting, he had been through much worse and had survived longer without energon. However, Megatron had noticed and decided to start provoking him, hoping to distract Optimus enough to gain the upper hand.

" What's wrong Optimus? Worn out already? It's a surprise that you and your Autobots haven't lost yet, considering how weak you are" Megatron looked at him, smirking as Optimus only rolled his optics. They continued to go back and forth for a little longer before both were blade to blade, the other trying to push the other down. Megatron knew that it was obvious that Optimus wouldn't break with petty insults... so he decided to go for a low blow.

" You know, if you had simply given me the matrix, you would have made a perfect little assistant, after all... It's in your programming " 

Optimus stood there in stunned silence as the offending warlord's toothy grin grew wider, knowing that he struck a nerve. Optimus could feel the rage bubbling in him, he knew this was exactly what Megatron wanted, for him to lose control. He held himself back but realized too late that Megatron had backed off and swung at him again. 

The Autobot team had quickly recovered from their own fights and tried to make their way towards Optimus. They drew in closer before a few more Decepticon soldiers got in their way. They couldn't quite reach their leader but... they knew something was off.

Meanwhile, Optimus, now on the ground, was using his blade to hold off Megatron from striking him. He pushed his anger down as much as he could while focusing on the fight. Optimus proceeded to through the warlord off of him and tried to get up.

" Come now, I think you secretly enjoyed it " " Megatron... stop " " You know, being under control and all, it makes me wonder why you wanted me to remove the code for you" " Megatron knock it off" " After all- " " Stop" " You made the perfect pet " " STOP IT! " This was it, Optimus had snapped. He threw himself at Megatron, blade drawn back as he glared daggers at the offending warlord and yelled out a war cry. Punches were thrown, both sides leaking energon from numerous cuts but neither was relenting as the fighting became more erratic.

The rest of the bots watched, the remaining Decepticons were defeated but they knew not to intervene... they had never seen Optimus this angry.

" There it is! There's the fight that's been lacking for vorns! " Megatron laughed as he fended off a blow from the Prime. Optimus didn't realize that his erratic fighting was swiftly depleting his energy reserves and felt himself start to falter. However, he did not pay attention to it, all he saw was red. ' How dare he bring that up!? He knows how painful it was being under control like that! He knows how miserable I was, how-' He continued to swing at his enemy. Rage-driven, he had managed to strike Megatron near his left shoulder joint which was now leaking a great deal of energon.

Megatron now sobered up from his over-confidence, not expecting the Prime to be this angry. The fighting slowed back down slightly, both leaders losing energy from the extensive fight. Optimus, now back in his thoughts, painful memories digging into his processor as he tried but failed to focus on the fight. He also failed to notice the silver fist flying at his face plate again, but this time it hit its mark and shattered his battle mask. Optimus had to blink a few times to regain focus. His mask, now broken in half with the base still holding on, couldn't do much to disguise his wince of pain as the adrenaline died down.

" Ha Ha! Seems you've lost your touch old friend " the warlord laughed as he drove the emotional wounds further. Optimus, as his anger died down, looked up at Megatron, trying as always to see any glimpse of the inspirational mech who had saved him that day... only to be met with hateful red optics that wanted him dead. His anger died down now, the panic from this morning, the stress of eons worth of war, and his low energy had finally caught up to him as he stared at his friend turned enemy.

Arcee had made a move to step in as Megatron stepped closer to the fallen Prime but could barely move as she was trying to process what had just been said and the anger that had poured out of the Prime. The other bots, who were not at the silo to see the conflict this morning, were frozen as they had never seen their leader this angry. 

Megatron chuckled as he approached the fallen Prime, he had expected a little more fight out of him, it was honestly a bit disappointing but it was satisfying to see the shock on the puny Autobot soldier's faces as the Prime fought with such malice. He had to admit, the insults he made towards the Prime were a very sensitive subject and he had not expected himself to use them against his oldest enemy, it wasn't his fault after all but it had won him the upper hand. He stared down, grinning widely at his enemy as he put away his blade and aimed his fusion cannon at the Prime. 

" What? No comeback? No speech? I- " he froze as he looked at his enemy's expression. Optimus had always been a steel trap, never angry, never outright happy, he just was stoic and had that blasted wall built around him at all times. He looked tired... 

Megatron didn't understand why, but he hated the empty look in Optimus' optics. " Well? Anything to say? Go on! Say something! " he pushed his cannon closer to the Prime's face plate and powered it up. " Say something slag it! " he shouted, but Optimus never faltered. Megatron grew frustrated, ' This isn't how it works! He's supposed to fight me until the end! '. 

The warlord continued to glare at his enemy, growling slowly louder by the minute as his weapon gained more power and its whirring grew louder. After a while, Megatron faltered and drew his weapon away. He sneered as he looked down at his enemy " A pity, I came here expecting a glorious battle but... I see now that there is nothing worth fighting for ". He gave one last hard look at his enemy, something else on his mind as he shook his helm. Megatron turned away, transformed, and flew away, planning something in the back of his processor. 

Optimus sat up and stared at where his enemy had just stood, looking down in embarrassment. The other Autobots looked on in both astonishment and embarrassment at how their leader had just given up like that. Strangely enough, the Decepticon leader had let them keep the mine but that wasn't where their concerns lay.

Arcee continued to stare at Optimus for a while before getting ready to comm Ratchet for a ground bridge. " Ratchet, we're ready, we got a bit of trouble but we secured the mine and are ready for for transport..."

" And... get the medbay ready, there's something we need to talk about..."

[theplumsoldier]

aftermath [3]

summary: you feel yourself becoming less tense with joel

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: drugs (smoking weed), vulgar language

word count: 1403

series: aftermath

Joel hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he woke, the exhaustion having taken over almost immediately after you had left him.

When he woke up it was not morning though. His body had become so accustomed to being alert even when asleep and so when he felt a breath of cold air on his skin, he looked around. Why were you leaving the house in the middle of the night? he wondered.

Ellie was fast asleep, having completely disregarded the blanket that Joel had draped over her at one point. Her snores were even louder now.

Joel stood up, careful not to wake her as he fueled the fire which was mere sparks, feeding it some wood and pinecone to help get the fire going.

After that, he tugged on his jacket and unscathed his revolver before going out to find out where you had gone and why. When he found you no more than a few feet away, smoking, he put away the weapon and furrowed his brows—

Is that pot?

Well, that... explains some things.

Joel had noticed that you had been more talkative earlier. He figured it had been the adrenaline from Ellie stabbing you, but now he thought perhaps it had been the weed making it less awkward.

"Can't sleep?" He broke the silence, making you cough on the smoke, unaware he had followed you.

Regaining your breath, you convinced yourself another drag would help gain a little more confidence. You could already feel it simmering through your body, removing both the tension and the self-doubt.

"Not without a little help," murmured you, eyes still on him. And he just stood there, tall and broad-shouldered, somewhat intimidating. His hands were shoved into his pockets, that permanent crease between his brows shaping his expression into something resembling constant skepticism. He could probably use a little, too. "Want some?"

A soft chuckle fell from his lips, the sound oddly pleasing to you. As he moved closer, you shifted so that he had room to sit beside you, immediately regretting as you only gave enough room for him to sit with his shoulder grazing yours. You tried to brush the touch off your mind, taking another drag, holding it, before handing him the joint.

You knew it was wrong, but when your fingers touched for just the briefest moment, and you noticed his fingers, their length, their girth, as he lifted the joint to his lips, your mind considered what they would feel like as a substitute for your own when you masturbated.

Shuddering, you tore your eyes from him as you felt the heat redden your cheeks and neck.

You hadn't thought of it until now, probably because you had been so adjusted to being alone in the world, but it was then you realized you were 37 years old and a virgin.

Shit.

"'Ere." Joel coughed hoarsely, tearing your attention back to where it should be. As he brought his hand up to cover his mouth, he cleared his throat. "Been a long time since I done tha'."

You tried loosening up a bit, hoping he didn't notice you moving a few inches from him.

"Used to roll 'em with tobacco, but all the cigarettes I found had become stale over the years. Makes 'em a bit more scratchy without it, I guess."

Joel hummed, and you could have sworn his eyes darted to your lips before he sounded a sibilant inhale.

"God, I miss cigarettes," he chuckled to himself and shook his head.

After a couple of moments of silence, between sharing a couple more drags of the joint, you spoke.

"Didn't ever touch one 'til after the outbreak."

It made him wonder about your age. The way you had become so quiet upon him telling you that 20 years had gone by, had been enough to make him believe you really had been on your own all this time.

"How old are ya?" asked Joel, looking at you with such an inquisitive wonder, before mentions of back then made manners catch up to him. "If you don't mind my askin'."

Joel liked the way you chuckled just then at him, figuring you weren't used to manners, especially taking into account you weren't used to people. Really, it was the Texas-dipped drawl that did it for you, the southern accent somewhat refining him and aiding the politeness.

"Was seventeen back then... so if it has really been 20 years as you said, I guess that means I'm 37."

You were surprised by how nice this actually was, having a person to talk to. You remembered that at the beginning of the outbreak, twenty years ago, that you used to talk to yourself a lot. Sometimes you even imagined being a character in a video game, and at one point you had even instinctively looked around to watch for reactions whenever you would trip or do something stupid. You supposed that was the point where you started losing your mind.

"You know, I 'ave a brother your age. He's in a settlement in Jackson," mentioned he, hesitating with the next part. "That's where we're goin'. You could come with us."

Perplexed, you turned to look at him with a slightly doubtful look in your eyes. Why would he ask that? You had forgotten that, sometimes, people were simply kind and good-hearted.

"I'm not very good with people."

Joel understood that. Sometime after meeting Ellie, he noticed how he himself had been so closed off, was still so closed off. He supposed that was part of the reason for having grown to like her so much, she allowed him to become human again. She resembled his own daughter in such a way, he became aware of what he had been missing all these years.

"Isolation does that to people."

You were biting your lip, pondering on whether you should tell him you were happy when the apocalypse happened. It wasn't just that you weren't good with people, it was that you didn't like them. You decided against it, thinking it would make you seem even more... weird.

"You'd never have to fend for yourself again. You could live just like you do here—better, even. Wouldn't 'ave to constantly look over your shoulder," Joel went on, his bottom lip tucked inward.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest, not necessarily because of the thought of living alongside other people, but him giving you the offer, insisting there was room for you, was heartwarming. You liked to be included. It had always been your soft-spot, however, from way back in high school, when you were included, you quickly learned it was to be the victim of a practical joke and that did not sit right with you.

"I like fending for myself," was all you said.

But even to that Joel had the answer.

"You could go on patrols. It'd be like a job."

You'd never have a job before.

With the same doubtful expression, you shook your head, a harsh chuckle leaving you. "People tend not to like me."

"Being the one to protect the community would give them no other choice. Or well, 'f they won't like you, they at least 'ave to respect you."

You chewed on the thought. Respect sounded nice.

"I don't know," mumbled you.

The two of you sat in silence until a harsh light flashed in the sky, a sharp lightning ripping the above in half soon after.

The next second heavy rainfall thumped on the ground.

"Now 'at's not promising," hummed Joel, but he couldn't help but chuckle at the sudden weather change. "Really miss the forecast these days."

Standing up, you chuckled at his comment. Walking towards the door, the sound of his heavy boots told you he was right behind you.

Inside Ellie was snoring loudly, drool catching the light from the fireplace, and you felt a small smile tug your lip upward. Perhaps she was not all that bad, merely a young girl roughened by the world.

You could relate to that.

Joel closed the door behind you, already watching you as you looked in his direction.

There was a faint smile on his own lips as well.

Clearing your throat, you scurried over to your bedroom. Sparing a glance, tired eyes took him in, looked him up and down one last time before you bid him a good night.

[thatseadog]

PART 2 of Chip's prosthetic fic! (Here's PART 1)

Jay’s heart ached. She was angry, at first. Annoyed too. Another one of Chip’s dramatic antics, she thought. Sometimes she would play along, but this was during the middle of the fucking night. But after only a few seconds, she understood how much this wasn’t a hoax. Couldn’t help but wonder, how many other times have we missed this? Only once before had Chip had a similar reaction to pain, and her chest shook with a heavy breath at the memory.

She was worried sick. Had her arm wrapped around Chip’s back, hand ending on his shoulder, holding him close by her side. Every time he made a noise of complaint, she would tighten her grip on him and whisper reassuringly, “You’re doing great, almost there.”

When Gill finally finished, he caressed around Chip’s hand, making sure there wasn’t any uncomfortableness left. Cooling his hands, he massaged into the previously wounded skin, roaming across his palm, and up to where instead of a pinky finger, a nub was found.

Chip sighed and melted against Jay’s side, taking in a shaky breath, and loosely pointing to a sink cabinet. Gill wordlessly reached out from the floor and opened it up to find a can of Baking Soda. He looked at Chip confused, but hesitantly gave over the powder since Chip kept his hand outstretched, not using Jay for support anymore.

Once in Chip’s hand, his thumb unlocked the cap with a gentle “pop”, and sprinkled some over his left hand, spreading the soft powder throughout it. “It’s to prevent itching and chaffing.” Chip said plainly, at Gill’s confused look.

Jay was taken aback, he already had something prepared for this. “How long has this been happening? What was that?” Jay asked. It looked much better now; the only thing left was the outline the prosthetic had made on Chip’s skin for being worn so long. She took his hand, and traced the marks and dents left. “Why haven’t you said anything..?” She asked finally, pushing for an answer.

“It’s… never been this bad.” Chip supplied, but didn’t elaborate. Gill inched closer while working to hold Chip’s right hand, imitating Jay in the other side, worried but attentive. Chip looked up, and met the concerned eyes of his Co-captains, who were giving him the silence to think. He looked down at his hands intertwined with Jay’s and Gillion’s, how he’s still not used to seeing four fingers instead of five. He took a deep breath to ready himself.

“I feel weird, without my prosthetic. My grip isn’t the same. Holding my sword is harder, and I can’t afford to not hold my own as a pirate. What if we get attacked during the night again? And I’m not fighting at my best?” What if he couldn’t protect Ollie? What if he harmed someone else on accident? What if he got himself hurt and someone else got hurt trying to help him instead? These... aren’t viable options. “So I just,” He shrugs, grimacing. “Never took it off.” he muttered. “It hurt but, it was manageable.”

“Chip..” Gill frowned. “You’re only hurting yourself; you can’t fight at your best if you’re hurt.” his hand gripped harder at Chip's.

“Gill’s right, y’know.” Jay agreed. “We’re here to lean on the other when we need help. But we can’t read your mind.” She gestured to his head. “Let us help you. Lean on us.”

Chip smiles a little, “That’s fucking corny as shit.”

“How about we work on your grip strength? You can attach your prosthetic to a belt while we get to land. We’re gonna be at sea for a few days.” Jay insisted. “Give the prosthetic a break, Chip, please. Your hand already suffered once because of it.”

“I can help you train with your sword!” Gill said with a new shine is his eye.

Chip still felt unsafe, as if parting with his prosthetic would mean something would go wrong. “I can’t. How am I supposed to work?”

“How are you supposed to work well when you're constantly in pain? If you gain the confidence to go about your day without the prosthetic, you’ll be able to function assuredly with or without it.” Gill reasoned with dedication and care laced in his voice.

Jay picked up the metal prosthetic, it rattled a bit because of the movement. “In the meantime, I’ll find ways to cushion it,” she looked at the inside, “so it doesn’t scrape you as much. Maybe it wasn’t fitted well.” She finished, feeling along the edge of it. Muttering more ideas under her breath while closely examining the contraption.

“See, Chip, this is going to be fun, because you’ll learn how to re-balance the weight of your sword, right? Then your equilibrium will increase and better because of it since you’ll learn to adapt and-" he continued off in an excited ramble.

Chip stared at Jay and Gill lost in their mission of trying to persuade him.

He suddenly felt a wave of love flood his chest, while staring at his best friends who despite being and looking ruggedly tired, ran to him, and stayed to help him. People who he didn’t know a year ago but couldn’t stand to live without today. He was overwhelmed by emotions and memories alike. And at 2am, on the bathroom floor, illuminated by the dim candle light and surrounded by his family, there’s truly only one thing he can say.

“Okay, okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

[stayandot8]

Chapter One: Angels Choking On Their Halos

series summary: this one is a little different than anything else I've written. An AU where the members work in a bar with my MC, no idols among them. It's also going to be on the longer side. The fluffy Chris we know and love is nowhere to be found. He's broodier, moodier, and has jokes up the wazoo. So buckle up, kitties. This one's gonna be good 😏.

inspo: the song by Fall Out Boy.

Genre: i'm not really sure tbh

Relationship type: strangers

Important Contents: bar setting, so mentions of alcohol, chris is a lowkey-highkey dick, swearing as usual

WC: ~9k

Next part I masterlist

~

This wasn’t the place I wanted to work for the rest of my life. This was just a stepping stone for where I wanted to be, a place to gain more experience. Make money for now, save up for later. It would make things easier in the long run and that was what really mattered. It was all part of my plan. Sometimes, plans had to be changed in order to adjust to the moment’s needs. 

 This was what I would tell myself every time I would get a rude customer or had trouble with anyone I was working with, which wasn’t often. The family I had made here was enough to keep me going through some of the tougher aspects of life: family passing away, money troubles, even a small period of homelessness. The guys here had taken care of me like I was one of them, which I guess I was. They were all like brothers to me, which was inevitable in the three years we had worked together. 

Minho’s dad owned the bar so he had to be here to be groomed to take over, not that he didn’t have the wish or experience to. He had longer dark hair that he often put back when he was behind the line. He worked hard, eager to prove himself to his father that he deserved to own the place someday. He was well on his way too; he was the best cook we had. When he clocked in, it was mostly business, not one for too much joking around in his kitchen. But when the place was closed and the after-shift drinks were flowing, his laugh was one of the loudest in the place. Seungmin was a close second though, more well known simply as Min. He had the most experience of all of them. He loomed over everyone back there, offering critiques when it was warranted while often keeping to himself and taking orders from Minho. He kept his hair short so it wouldn’t hang in his face while he was working. His eyes were my favorite; they got big when he was talking about something he loved (food, baseball). He loved to open up after a few (light) drinks in him after hours, making jokes at the others expense but never taking it too far. He never seemed to run out of material though, so I had to give him credit for his wit.

Changbin was the shorter one, which made him the perfect choice for security and hosting. It was odd how his rounder face and short dark hair accentuated his raging muscles without taking away from the kindness in his face when he wanted to show off his dimple. His uniform of all black was also a huge help. He was never without his favorite platform shoes though, adding another few inches just to give him the small confidence boost he needed to truly complete the intimidation feel he desired. But after the final customer had gone, he was always the first to clock out and head to the bar to grab his one drink for the night then make sure everyone else got home safely. He loved doing that, loved that he could care about others that way. He had created the environment here from scratch, letting everyone get into their patterns and learn each other's ways while we navigated how to work around each other. If anyone had any problems with another employee, they went to him and they talked about it. Changbin always made sure to see both sides while not putting himself in the middle. He was the perfect mediator.

 Hyunjin was the lead server, in charge of everyone in the front of house. He was tall and lean, his muscle tone inviting long stares from both men and women alike. And when he noticed those stares, boy did he know how to work you. His ease through life was something to be revered, to be chased after for yourself. The way he seamlessly moved from one subject to another made him a flawless conversationalist, suave and sophisticated. It made people wonder what he was doing in a place like this. People had tried to steal him away, but he was loyal to Minho, his best friend since they were young school boys. He once admitted to me that he actually liked this job, never feeling like he was called to do anything else. He was rarely seen wearing the same thing twice, taking his appearance and his job very seriously as the representative of the place. Not to say he was strict with the people under him, he just liked to appear as no-nonsense. But he very much enjoyed the nonsense, especially when Felix was involved. 

Felix was our pastry chef who owned a bakery a couple doors down. He would bring stuff in for us to sell and help out when he could. He wasn’t much for cooking but his baked goods were unbeatable. He came in about three times a week, alternating between dropping stuff off, indulging in his free meals and drinks which he insisted on paying for, or just enjoying the company we provided. His blonde mane was a point of fixation from the other guys, always commenting on how they were jealous and  wanting to touch it, play with it. And he would let them because that was just the kind of guy he was. Felix would do anything to make the ones around him happy. He had grown close with the team, joking around and laughing with them in the kitchen. He would get a call from Hyunjin later into the night when he had already closed up shop for the night and be begged to come and help on anything. He picked up skills quickly, running food for us or helping me or Han behind the bar or even picking up a few tables here and there too. He never said no, always said he was happy to do it. His deep register was the first thing everyone noticed, his deep rumble of laughter forcing everyone to pause in wonder and seek out that call of Hades. It worked to his advantage whenever he would ask one of us to help him out with anything he ever needed. I knew if I couldn't say no to that voice and I knew for a fact no one else here could either. His juxtaposition to his bright demeanor was striking to anyone meeting him for the first time. He always had a smile on his face, no matter what. He picked up the spirits of everyone around him. That’s just who he was.

Han was similar to Felix, though not quite as pure goodness. If Felix was love and light, Han was love and chaos. He was the perfect combination for a co-lead bartender. His creativity was useful when trying to plan new drinks for special occasions, holidays, and just messing around at the end of the night. He was the creativity behind our little duo, I was more in charge of execution. The ‘but Han, how are you going to make the glass start smoking after the customer drinks it?’ or ‘ no, Han, we cannot incorporate weed for the April special’ and lots of ‘that’s a fire hazard, Han.’ were all things I said to him at least once a week. The boy loved to set things on fire so Minho put him up front with the liquids, where he could do minimal damage unless someone handed him a lighter. There may or may not have been a small sign that said ‘Do not give Han a lighter’ on the shelves for everyone to see. But he always meant well. His big brown eyes were such a warm invitation that you couldn’t help but smile when he introduced himself, never wanting to return anything but his warm energy when he was near. He was good like that, able to turn on the charm and the looks whenever he wanted to. He had a kind face which made him a good bartender, made him good with people. When he wore his glasses, he had all the ladies swooning. And he ingested information like it was food. He could get invested in any topic under the sun. Anything I threw at him during his training, he would be able to repeat back to me within about ten seconds, enough time for his brain to process said information and learn it. He explained this once to me back in ye olden days when he first started.

“When I’m passionate about something, I learn all I can and retain it. It’s a superpower I’ve always had but only when I really want to know something.” I didn’t question him again. Everytime he would come in with random facts about some mountain range somewhere far off or some type of goldfish he was learning about, he didn’t stop until he found his new fixation. I knew more about Ranchu goldfish than I ever cared to know. Ever. 

Jeongin, more affectionately known as Innie, was the other server along with Hyunjin. He flitted through styles like they were nothing. That was actually how he got hired. Hyunjin had commented on his jacket and that was all they talked about the entire interview. I know because I was listening to them while they sat at my bar, voices occasionally rising to the point of harsh glares from myself and Han while we tried to help other patrons. He loved showing off his knowledge of the menu to newer customers, eager to help when they were having trouble. Minho had quizzed him a little to help him learn the details, which Jeongin seemed to appreciate. He took to the job quickly, becoming a favorite amongst some of the regulars, his easy charm contagious. It seemed to be a recurring theme among the front of house staff. Hyunjin had put together his team well. 

Saturdays were just about the only day we were all here, minus Felix. The weekend was busy for him down at the bakery so he stayed there for the night, sometimes staying open late to come hang out with us later. Saturdays were always busy, classic date nights for the surrounding area. We were located near a hotel as well so the weekenders often came in either for a drink, for a quick meal or just to get out of their hotel room for a minute or two. The clientele ranged from businessmen there for a meeting with a relaxed environment, families, and couples coming in for a night out or simply away from home. Of course you’d get the occasional outlier: a diplomat wanting to just sit down, high-ranking officials grabbing a quick bite, or rarely, if you listen really closely, you can hear an occasional fight in the back of house. Like tonight. 

Minho ran a tight ship back there, vetting almost everyone who dared apply. However, he cared less about who was washing the dishes, which opened the door for some pretty weird people to apply and get the job. He really just needed them to rinse and repeat so it made sense when the current dishwasher up and quit during the middle of a Saturday night dinner rush. I was mid-shake, tickets starting to create a small pile by the printer, when I heard the yelling over the music in the dining room.

“Well what the fuck do you want from me then?!” I stopped, searching the packed out dining room for Hyunjin and readying for damage control. I spotted his dark hair a few hundred feet across the room as he was doing the same, our eyes meeting and readying for the worst. Minho was mostly cool and calm but had quite a temper when provoked, as all cooks did who took pride in their work. But it wasn’t his voice that we could hear. And it wasn’t he who came storming into said dining room with his apron in his hands. 

“Fuck this place!” Our former dishwasher threw his apron in my direction, hitting me in the face before I could throw my hands or move to avoid it. Luckily for me, the mysterious stains on it did nothing to my uniform of dark jeans and black button down. Winding through the tables, he flew the doors open and disappeared into the night. Hyunjin was still looking at me, his face now red with rage, both at the scene he had just caused and what had just occurred out of his reach. He started to follow after him but I shook my head at him, having too much to do to entertain the idea of being offended. He wasn’t worth it. Hyunjin seemed to agree, albeit reluctantly, as he continued back to the kitchen to assess the damage. I continued my work, Han coming to my side to ask what he could do to help. 

“Hyunjin is going back there probably to take over at the sink. What I need from you is to help Innie on the floor. I can take care of everything back here.” I said as yet another ticket printed someone’s order. 

“Are you sure? I can help you get tickets down then go.” He looked concerned. Little did he know this was what it was like before he came. I flashed a smile to ease the worry in his eyes. 

“Oh please. I could do this in my sleep. I’ll make you something especially good tonight for hangback if you go now.” I continued smiling to cover the sternness in my voice, slipping into problem-solving mode. “And send Changbin up here when he has a second.” I called after him as he pulled his notepad and pen from his pocket to begin serving Hyunjin’s tables, giving me a thumbs up behind his back. 

A flash of lemons, limes, and cherries later, a huffing Changbin appeared at the corner of my bar. 

“I could kill that guy, leaving us high and dry in the middle of a rush. Did he throw his apron at you?” Everyone looks so concerned these days…

“In his defense, I don’t think it was intentional. I think he just meant to throw it behind the bar and I just happened to be in the way.”

“Yeah, that sounds like you. Giving people the benefit of the doubt.” That seemed to ease his concern a tad. 

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes at him and smiled, rinsing my cups to make room for new ones. “Could you help bus tables and run food if you have time? Just keep the front phone in your pocket and answer if it rings. I’m putting us on a temporary hold. We’ll check in with the back in about twenty minutes to see how they are.” He nodded, ever the loyal soldier. He even saluted me and ran back to the host stand to grab said phone and do exactly as I had asked, the kitchen doors swinging as he entered. 

I spotted Jeongin at the end of my counter standing at our computer for putting in orders. Once I had a moment, I stepped over to him, spotting the slight tremor in his hand as he pressed button after button, glancing from his notepad back to the screen and back down again. 

“Innie.” I singsonged to him, trying to perk him up as best I could. He smiled but still didn’t look up at me. “Are you doing okay? Do you need any help? I sent Han on the floor to help you with tables so you wouldn’t feel as swamped. Changbin is helping to run food as well so don’t worry about that. Just worry about keeping people happy, okay? Which shouldn't be hard to do since you’re just so darn cute.” I leaned on the counter to stare up at him, hoping to catch his eye so I could be sure the gleam returned. I got him grinning and blushing which was confirmation enough. 

“I’m okay for now, thank you. I’m about to put in for some chilled shots, okay? This table is hell-bent on celebrating something and I couldn’t for the life of me tell you what it was.” I laughed along with him as he gathered his stuff to walk away again. I called out to him.

“I’m here if you need help!”

“I know!” He flashed me another grin as he held the kitchen door open for Hyunjin, who was carrying about eight plates in his arms, then disappeared behind the swinging door. 

“How come you never offer to help me, huh?” Hyunjin had shouted as he was walking past me to deliver the food. 

“Because you’re magical. You need no help.” He half-heartedly glared at me, smirking at the same time. 

“You’ve got tickets again.” Shit. That damn printer…

***

“Han, I swear if you break a bottle, it’s coming out of your paycheck!” Minho was pointedly staring at Han as he tried some new trick he had learned on Youtube the night before. It involved throwing a bottle and that was when I stopped listening to shut it down. Han, ever the rebel, chose to do it anyway. But now he was doing it in front of Minho, who now that the doors were closed, was the young boy he could be without his mask of professionalism. Surrounded by friends instead of coworkers now, he could relax and enjoy the shenanigans from the safety of the bar. 

I heard this being shouted from the kitchen, where Hyunjin, Changbin, and I were gathering our food for the night.. I grabbed a to-go tray full of chips and salsa for the table so as not to create more dishes for Hyunjin who had been stuck there all night long. Hyunjin grabbed some cheese from the walk-in fridge like a mouse, and Changbin was chomping down on a steak that was cooked too long for the customer’s request, so it was put aside for him. We gathered what we needed and returned to the bar where everyone was waiting for us, seated in booths and bar stools. Han had decided against his internet trick, settling for being the bartender for the night. 

“Okay! What is everyone having?” He asked the room, steadfast in his decision. As orders were placed, I put the chips down in front of Jeongin and sat between him and Hyunjin, Seungmin on his other side and Minho next to Jeongin. Changbin moved from his booth to the bar when his food was finished. He hated being left out. 

“I will have whatever that crazy brain can think of that will get me good and drunk so I can forget this stupid night ever happened. I’m off tomorrow, right Minho?” Hyunjin looked expectantly at him. Minho shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Whatever. Hey, where’s my scotch?!” He directed that at Han, who got to it immediately, cracking jokes about impatience while he poured the brown liquid into a paper cup. “What, no glass?” Minho jutted out his lip in a pout. 

“Do you want to clean it?” Hyunjin retorted, the amusement gone from his face. His fingers were pruned from the constant submersion in water; Seungmin hid the rubber gloves from him. Minho nodded in understanding and took a sip from his cup. Han started pouring different liquids into one cup with a dash of juice at the top and handed it to Hyunjin. He took a sip and coughed. Hard. “Damn, dude. I would have asked for a Long Island if I wanted one.”

“You asked for something that would get you good and drunk so there you go. You don’t like it, give it back. Who’s next?” Without any of us seeing or hearing him, Felix emerged from the kitchen doors. 

“I’ll take something fruity please!” His signature smile was plastered on his face as we all greeted him. Jeongin started telling him about what had happened with our former coworker when Han dropped off something pink for the both of them. 

“And he just walked out in the middle of it! All of my tables were so confused, they had no idea he worked here. I tried to just laugh it off but my heart stopped for a second.” 

“Good riddance, I say. I never liked him anyways.” Minho took another sip.

“Then why did you hire him?” My question was amplified when the others asked the same thing. Han dropped off Changbin’s chilled vodka and Seungmin’s beer.

“We needed a dishwasher.” Minho replied simply. “I’ve got someone in mind to replace him, don’t worry Hyunjin. He’ll be in by the time you come in on Monday.” Hyunin nodded his approval and took as big of a swig as he could muster from his Long Island. 

“And what are you having, gorgeous?” Han appeared in front of me, batting his eyelashes. I flicked him on his forehead lightly just because I could. He barely moved and his smile only grew, used to my loving taps. 

“I’ll take something with that new blueberry vodka we just got. I think it would be good with-” I was cut off as Han ran over to the shelf where it was.

“I got it! I’ve been thinking about what to do with it all night. See how you like this. I think it’s perfect.” Watching Han work was something to behold. The look of concentration was so intense, you didn’t want to break it. Seeing him focus on one task at a time happened so rarely, it was a wonder he ever got anything done at all. 

“Now you owe me a drink if my memory serves me. I’ll take something light please, I’d actually like to be able to drive home tonight.” He rounded the edge of the bar to take my seat as we switched places. I turned my back to the group now excitedly chattering about sports and whatnot to stare at the bottles I got to choose from. After thinking, my lips pursed, I chose something that didn’t take much alcohol, granting him his request. As I switched our drinks to grab mine, I strolled through the back of the bar, my second home, to eavesdrop on all the conversations going on. Smiling to myself, proud of the job by the team in front of me, this family I had made. 

***

“Does someone want to tell me why I'm here on my day off?” Hyunjin, decked in casual clothes and sunglasses to ‘hide his eyes from the terror of the sun’ and a drink in front of him. Seungmin was beside him in similar attire having just arrived himself. After the last customer had left the lunch rush, Minho shut the doors behind them and locked them, turning the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and leaving the seven of us from the night before sitting once again at the bar in anticipation. Minho called staff meetings only when needed and it seemed whatever situation he deemed necessary, it was rarely good. 

“Take off those glasses and I’ll tell you.” Minho replied as he approached us once more, joining me behind the bar to face everyone head on with a signature smirk. Hyunjin scoffed as he refused, grumbling to Seungmin beside him. “Okay losers. I found a new dishwasher. It’s a guy I’ve known for a while so he shouldn’t be any trouble. He’s fallen on some hard times so I thought it might be good for him to come work with us. Everyone is going to be on their best behavior, right?” 

“Why, are we meeting him now?” I asked simply, not sure what this big meeting was for. 

“Yes actually. He’s staying at the hotel next door ad he’s waiting out back for me to bring him in. I called you all here to meet him and to make sure everyone was on the same page. Yeah?” Minoh widened his eyes just enough to stare everyone directly in the eye to see their resolution for peace and calm before he was satisfied and exited through the kitchen doors to fetch whoever this guy was, wiping his hands on his apron along the way. The rest of us looked around at each other, slightly scared of what he could possibly be bringing in. 

“This couldn’t be said in a text?” Hyunin said under his breath.

“No proof, no trail.” Seungmin replied. We all nodded. 

Minho returned in a matter of seconds, the mystery guest in tow. He wasn’t entirely short but he wasn’t exactly tall either, his dark hair curly and short and poking out of his black cap. It hung just short of his eyes, dusting his brows with every movement. His eyes were a dark brown, but they were not what I was paying attention to. No, his body was what drew my attention first. His shirt had the sleeves cut off so his muscular arms and peeks of his torso were on full display, cut so low that his chest was almost fully visible to anyone who wanted to take a peek. Which I might have done already when he turned to the side to shake hands with everyone. He greeted everyone with a small smile, chatting for a second with everyone before turning to the next. He introduced himself as Chris. Minho would occasionally call him Chan, making the joke that they were different people. His permanent, shy smile had dropped when he made eye contact with me, drinking in my features like he had all day to do so. He shook his head, trying to get an imaginary fly off of his face and nodded at me. That nod echoed through me as I took him, all of him, in. It was like a bell had gone off in my own mind. For trouble or danger or something else entirely, I didn’t know. But it was all I could hear until Minho’s voice carried through the piercing in my head as I found his eyes again. 

“She’s been with me the longest so she’s almost like second in charge without having the title of it. She’s the best around, you won’t find any better than her.” Minho’s proud smile should have comforted me but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been slighted by him somehow. Changbin interrupted this introduction to ask Minho about a reservation for tonight so his back was turned to us. 

“The best he’s got?” He said with the slightest trace of mocking, his eyebrow raised in questioning. 

“Of course. I’ve been in this industry long enough to know my way around just about everything.”

“Someone sounds cocky.” Well that’s rude.

“I know what I’m worth.” At least I sounded cooler than I felt. I crossed my arms in front of me as I hardened my features at him, daring him to challenge me. He shrugged his shoulders, brushing me off and turning back to Minho.  

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Minho guided Chris away and led him to the kitchen, Seungmin following close behind to show him everything Minho would deem unimportant. I followed them with my eyes until I could be sure they were out of earshot. 

“Can you believe that? The nerve of that guy.” Everything in me felt like yelling at whoever was closest, Hyunjin being the closest target. His face was blank. 

“What happened? I wasn’t paying attention.” I sighed, resigned to just let it go until it reared its ugly head again.

“Nothing. Nevermind.” 

“Well, since that was it, I’m going to resume my day off activities. I’ll see you troublemakers tomorrow.” Hyunjin rose from his barstool and slid his glasses back over his eyes. He turned his head to face me as he leaned on the bar, leaning his head in closer to me as if to tell me a secret. “I saw that look you gave him. Play nice. I don’t think I can handle more new people coming in and ruining my rhythm.” He feigned brushing his hair off his shoulders. I scoffed at him. 

“What rhythm is that?” He trailed away to the door. 

“The rhythm of me tolerating those who are already here!” He called from the front doors, halfway open from his outstretched arm. With his other, he pointed a finger at poor Han who was oblivious, gave me an annoyed look, and disappeared through the glass doors. 

What look? I wondered to myself. I didn’t give him any specific look… Did I? I shook my head at the thought and continued my prep work for Han’s shift, my mind flitting between thoughts of the new guy and what his problem was between slices of limes and lemons, listening to the chatter behind me grow as the restaurant doors opened for the dinner rush to flood in.

I was gathering the normal clutter for a new table. Napkins piled on top of the extra plates and the only thing left to grab was silverware. But the rack was empty. The only thing to do would be to ask the dishwasher to immediately do a load for some clean ones. This would be my own test to see if Chris could be a professional during service hours. My approach was always to be nice until they hit strike three. He was only at strike one so niceties it was. I pushed the swinging door to find Minho with his back to me, reading a ticket to himself. I marched over to the sink where my target awaited, one headphone in his ear. I tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Hey Chris, we need more silverware up front. We’re all out.” I said plainly. I waited, watching the back of his head for him to turn to acknowledge me. He didn’t. I tapped him harder. “Hey Chris!” He finally turned, confusion evident. 

“What, why are you trying to scare someone who’s working with heavy machinery?”

“I tapped you already and you said nothing. And an industrial dishwasher is hardly heavy machinery. We’re out of silverware up front.” I said just as dry as I had before. I turned to walk away, satisfied with myself. I saw out of the corner of my eye that he hadn’t moved so I stopped to turn back and see that he was still staring at me. “What?” I snipped. 

“I didn’t hear a question. Or a certain magic word.” His eyes widened in fake innocence, showcasing for anyone on the outside to see this as playful banter. I knew better, but I had to let him win. He had something I needed and I was ever the chess player in knowing that sacrifices for the short were better for the long run. I took a deep breath and put on my best fake smile.

“Chris, do you mind terribly washing some silverware and bringing it out to us so we can serve our customers and make some damn money? Please.” I batted my eyelashes at him, signaling that this was not over. Not by a long shot. 

“Of course I can.” He responded with an equally fake smile. “I’ll bring it out as soon as it’s ready.” He turned back to his sink, grabbing the next bucket of dishes and pulling out the silverware to separate it. I was surprised I wasn’t literally seeing red, my hands were shaking beside me, clenched into fists. I wiped my sweaty palms on my work jeans, desperate for some control over my own body again. Who the fuck was he to question me? Twice in one day too? I think not. I didn’t know how but I would get my revenge one way or another. One day…

But the question was really very simple. Why did I let someone who did not know me get to me so quickly? It had been less than a day and he had already worked his way under my skin, churning the fire I didn’t know was inside. I stopped in the hallway leading to the dining room, taking solace in the darkness and muted noises. I let these thoughts come and go, trying to let them wash over me. If this was how he was, he wouldn’t last very long. Someone would see through him, right? I shook my head and took several breaths, willing my heartbeat to steady out before I went back to my tables. 

A slower dinner service than usual allowed Han to work his usual charms on the few lucky ones to sit at his bar. His nights to take full control were almost every other night starting on Sundays, leaving me to either have the days off or work the floor if I needed the money. It was fun to watch him in his element, the easy conversation flowing so naturally with perfect strangers it made anyone wonder if they actually knew each other. I was by the POS station at the edge, counting my tickets to ensure I had them all as the night was dying down. The remaining tables belonged to Jeongin so I was free to sit at the bar until everyone had gone. 

I hadn’t seen much of Chris tonight other than the one instance, every other trip I made to the kitchen he seemed to be too occupied with a conversation with Minho or involved in his work to pay much attention to anything else. I was still deciding if I wanted to address his weird behavior or drop it entirely. Until…

I had remembered that I had bought something special for myself and Han after a particularly hard shift weeks prior and it had arrived that morning. I hopped off my stool to grab it from my bag in the office, passing by Chris on his phone in the hallway. His brows were drawn together in concentration and his typing only got more furious after I passed by. I noted it for later dissection. 

I returned to Han at the bar with the item behind my back. After he finished, he saw me trying to keep any indication that I was holding a surprise off of my face as best I could. His eyes squinted as he drew nearer, caution written all over his features. 

“Whatcha got there, sparky?” He finally spoke as he folded his arms over the counter, leaning his full weight on them as a smile crept over. I whipped out what was behind my back, a rhinestone covered shaker I had found. Han’s eyes got wide with excitement. 

“You don’t have to use it obviously if it’s too ‘girly’ for you,” I used my fingers for the air quotes. “But if you want to use it, I’m going to wash it and put it back there. Just remember to hand wash it, don’t send it back to dish. I worry about the stones chipping off or something.” I couldn’t help my smile as Han took it from my hands to examine it, eyes wide. That’s when I felt more than saw another presence coming up behind me. 

“What is that?” I could hear the disgust Chris was trying to mask under the layers of feigned curiosity. “I could see it from the kitchen.” 

“It’s our new shaker, courtesy of yours truly.” I turned to stare directly into the sun to find his eyes staring right back at me. His brows raised in surprise.

“Oh you bought it for this place? I should call you Sparkles.” He chuckled at his own joke then paused for a moment, his eyes going distant as he watched Han decide where to put our new jewel. “In fact, I think that’s your name from now on.” He said just low enough for only me to hear, giving me a smirk and shuffling off back to the kitchen before I could protest. I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to Han, proudly displaying our new shaker to anyone who would listen. 

An hour later, the floor empty and chairs on top of tables, Jeongin was mopping the stone floor as part of his closing duties. He had drawn the short straw so it was his final duty before he could clock out officially and join the rest of us who had worked that night at our usual spot at the bar. Everyone, sans Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Felix who had been dying to meet the new guy, was waiting for the blonde baker to make an appearance before fully getting into the swing of the evening. Changbin was seated at the end, Minho beside him and fully engaged in the conversation. That left myself, Han, and Chris who was sitting with an empty seat between us. Han was in his usual place behind the bar and asking those who had clocked out what they wanted to drink down at the opposite end. I was busy looking at my phone, catching up on missed notifications while Chris was letting his eyes roam around to take in his surroundings. They landed on Han a few feet away, chatting and laughing with the guys. 

“He’s good at that, isn't he.” Not a question. An observation of the world he had waltzed into. More to himself than to me, but I saw my window of opportunity to be the bigger person and I took it. I watched Han do what he did best while mixing different liquids for the men in front of him.

“Yes he is. He’s got a natural knack for people. It’s what makes him good at his job.” He paused, like he wasn’t expecting me to answer, then nodded once in acknowledgement. Then he turned his dark eyes to me and waited until I looked at them to ask his next question.

“And what makes you good at yours, Sparkles? Do you also have a ‘natural knack for people’?” A gentle mix of curiosity and a slight mocking tone in his words. It took me by surprise that he was asking me anything at all. 

“No, it’s my ability to judge a person’s character within seconds of meeting them. I knew who Minho was when he introduced himself in primary school.”

“Minho isn’t very hard to read.” He cocked an eyebrow at me. 

“Oh I beg to differ.” I cocked one right back. “He’s a master at saying one thing and meaning another. It took me years before he moved away to try and decipher his secret language. You, however…”

He sat back expectantly, a bored expression plastered on his face, waiting for me to dazzle him as my nickname implied. As I drew my pause longer, he shook his head slowly, impatiently at me. 

“Yes? 

I studied him a moment longer, not quite ready to give up his attention so quickly. I wanted it for some reason, whether it was because I had earned it or some other deep seeded reason to be explored by a therapist. But I wanted his attention for as long as I could keep it. There was something captivating about it. I realized I had been silent for a second too long before I finally spoke. 

“You like to tease because it gets a reaction out of people. It keeps their attention on you and you love it. Maybe you didn’t get enough attention as a child or someone took it all away from you. Either way.” I watched his face fall from blank ignorance to stone cold. Nail on the head. “Whatever your parents did, it’s time to forgive them and grow up. You don’t need attention to make people like you.” I felt my smugness flood from my brain straight to my smile as I turned back to my phone. “It’s like I know you already.”

“I promise you don’t.” The quickness of his response snapped my attention back to him. His expression hardened in moments, leaving me with no retort. “I suggest you not parade around claiming to know things you don’t know the first thing about. Hiding behind knowledge you think you have doesn’t suit you. It makes you look ignorant. I would suggest you try to get to know people before assuming things about them. Especially me.” I no longer wanted to be the subject of his attention. I felt the blush involuntarily creep up my cheeks as I tried and begged my eyes to look anywhere but at him. “Let me tell you what I know about you, hm?  You’re so buried in your work that you don’t even see what’s happening around you. Take that away and what’s left? Friends? Everyone you know seems to work here. Family? I know by the way you treat your coworkers that you don’t have any. You don’t wear your emotions on your sleeve, you wear them on your face. I can read you like a book.” He had moved off of his seat in the midst of his little speech to lean closer to my face, almost spitting on me several times. He gave a half smile and turned to walk away. I found my brain and my words just in the knick of time. 

“I’ve finally got my nickname for you.” I willed my voice to keep from quivering.

“Oh yeah?” He turned back to me, still not far.

“Puck.”

“Puck? Like a hockey puck?” “Like from Shakespeare. He’s a character in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Ah. And why is that relevant?”

“Because he’s a donkey. And you’re an ass.”

I grabbed my bag and bolted for the door, ignoring the shouts of protest and questions about where I was going. I felt someone bump into my shoulder as I ran, not bothering to turn to see Felix before shouting an apology and running to my car before anyone saw my tears.

***

“I just don’t understand, Felix. He’s known me less than a day and he already hates me? Tell me how that makes sense.” Sitting across from Felix in his own bakery was my favorite way to spend my days off. He had made such a cozy place to call his own. Cases of baked goods lined the sides with the counter facing the glass front doors. The blue walls had cute pictures of animals all over them, ranging from cats to dogs to bunnies and ferrets to baby chicks and wolf pups to piglets running around in grass fields or playing in mud. I wondered where he got them all from but I hadn’t dared ask. There were fake vines and flowers hanging from the ceiling, creating the feel of being in a pastel forest dream. White steel chairs and tables were spread across the small room and just outside the doors, people enjoying his products were seen constantly with smiles and laughter. 

A yellow plate with the wrapper from his newest cupcake flavor, Cherry Lime Surprise, in front of me, Felix stopped me mid-rant. 

“And what exactly did he say to you again?” I scoffed.

“Ha! Which time? When he questioned my abilities just after Minho told him I was the best he had, not only insulting me but Minho too? Or when he made me stop and say please when we needed more silverware in the middle of service when I had other shit to do? Or, my personal favorite, when he called me a friendless workaholic with no family and my head up my own ass? Which time are you referring to, Felix?” I had to scoff again, lost in my own thoughts. “It’s ridiculous. He doesn’t even know me. What makes him think he can pass such definite judgment on me?”

“He seemed to be in a sour mood after you left last night. He apologized that he wasn’t in a happier mood. Said he had a bad night and had to leave shortly after you did. The other guys say he’s fine, he jokes around with them and everything. Minho said he was a childhood friend.” “Yeah well so am I. I know he would believe me if I told him but I also know he would tell me to deal with it myself. And I don’t want to have to run to him if I ever have a problem with someone he hires.”

“You literally never have.” Felix gave his best comforting smile, making his eyes sparkle.

“Maybe not. But I don’t want to start now.” 

“Why is he bothering you so much? He doesn’t know you so why does his opinion matter?” Now that was a thinker. 

“Well, if I’m going to see him so often working there, I thought we could get along. Be friends even. Or at least friendly. But with the way he’s acting after only knowing me a day, I don’t see that happening.” I pushed the plate away towards him, nudging him that I wanted another. I widened my eyes to plead, but he saw right through me and grabbed the plate. 

“You have to pay for this one!” He called to me. I followed him up there to do exactly that. “And don’t over tip me! You’re paying too much already.”

“Try and stop me! It’s my way of paying you for listening to me rant about nothing.” I responded as he retrieved my delicious dessert from its case and placed it on my plate to hand to me. I turned the device back to him and grabbed my plate to run away back to my table before he could yell at me. He looked incredulously at the device then back up to me, his mouth agape. I shrugged with my most mischievous smile. “If you tell me it’s too much, I’m just going to double it next time.” I watched his shoulders move up and down dramatically as he threw his head back to look at the ceiling. He stared for a second before coming around the counter to sit in his white chair. 

“Anyways. As I was saying.” He narrowed his eyes at me, waiting for me to take a bite before continuing. “If you have to work with him, you only have a few options. The first would be to try and make peace. Remind him you have to work together and see if you can compromise enough to be civil and only talk to him when you need to.” My top lip curled in disgust as I swallowed. 

“Or?” I popped the last bit of bliss into my mouth, intent on savoring it while I could. 

“Or you could avoid him at all costs. Don’t speak to him. Just ignore him if he tries to talk to you about anything other than work. But I highly advise against this. You do work together now and running away from your problems never works. You know that.” 

“Unfortunately, I do. But if I’m going to avoid him effectively, he needs to stay in the kitchen. I won’t bother him if he doesn’t bother me.” Felix took my empty plate from me as I rose to leave, gathering my stuff. 

“If that’s how you want to play it, then I’ll be here waiting for it to all go to hell.” He gave me another one of those signature smiles. Every time he flashed me one of those, I knew that everything would be okay. That’s what made Felix such a good friend. He gave good advice but would also be there for you when you ignored it. No matter how much he teased, he never said ‘I told you so’ or judged you when something was your fault. He never threw it in your face when you were wrong, he just patiently waited for you to realize it. He was a good friend, better than I deserved. His sultry voice broke me of my thoughts. “If you want to start your avoiding tactic, now is a great time. He’s across the street on his way over.” I whipped my head around to see Chris dressed in all black with a backpack on his shoulder and indeed headed this way. “He asked if he could come see the place so I told him to come by.”

“Shit.” It was the fastest I had gathered the rest of my things, cursing myself for spreading out so elaborately. 

“Use the back door.” Felix, you angel. I told him so as I rushed onto the street outside. 

***

“Doesn’t it liven up the place? I think it does.” I stepped back to admire my handiwork. I had lined the shelves of liquor with tiny christmas lights, equipped with a remote to change the colors to anything possible. Changbin was watching me struggle with the different sticky strips to hang them, not offering any helpful suggestions whatsoever but admiring the job once I was done. 

“I like it! Can you turn them purple? What about blue?”

“I can do better than that. Watch this.” I pressed the multicolored button on the remote and the lights turned from red to orange to yellow all the way down the rainbow and back again, on a constant loop. I proudly watched Changbin’s face gleam with pride as he watched my lights flicker. 

“Yah! I’m so proud of you. You did it all by yourself.” He beamed at me, marveling at them as he walked backwards to the kitchen to discuss tonight’s dinner service with Seungmin. After watching the lights for a little while longer, I pulled out my cutting board and fruits to cut for myself.

I was ready to put my plan into action when Chris walked up to see the commotion. 

“I guess Sparkles was the right name for you after all.” He flashed me a quick half-smile. A blink and I would have missed it. “It looks good. Brightens it up.” And then he was gone as quickly as he had come. 

What the fuck was that?!

This back and forth was making my head spin. Before I could think too much about it other than my initial reaction, Minho came in through the locked front doors. Which was odd because Tuesdays were his day off, his jeans hanging loosely around his hips and his white tshirt showing off his toned muscles.. His eyes searched around the room for something and landed on me. He nodded, signaling that he was headed for me. 

“Why are you here? Don’t you have some expensive wine tasting to attend or something to improve your restaurant?” I gave a sickeningly sweet smile, flashy all of my teeth for him. 

“Haha, very funny.” He narrowed his eyes and grimaced. “Where’s Chris?”

“Probably in the back.” I waved my hand in the direction I implied. 

“Good. Don’t move. I want to talk to you both.” Uh Oh…

I quite literally couldn’t move, my brain jumping from thought to thought and never quite landing on a reason why he would want to talk to the both of us. Had Felix told him everything? No, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t betray my trust like that. Minho came back with Chris, an apron tied around his waist and wiping his hands off with a towel before slinging it over his shoulder. 

“What’s up, Minho?” I couldn’t help my suspicious tone. 

“I want you to train Chris behind the bar starting Monday next week.” He bore into my eyes, daring me to protest. I knew better. Chris had moved his attention to me, a smug smile spreading across his features. 

“Why?” Questioning was okay. 

“We were talking a few nights ago about how he wanted to learn mixology and there’s no one better to learn from. Chris, before you start to protest, keep in mind that she’s the best in the business when it comes to training. She taught Han everything he knows. If you want to learn, you learn from her.” He turned to me, wiping the smug look off my face when I heard his tone from the first word.

“And you. You can teach anyone, I know you can. You can whip anyone into shape, I've seen it. Give him a chance and you might just see the potential that I see. If he wants to learn, why shouldn’t you be the one to teach him?” He leaned back pushing off the counter, smiling to himself. Like he was proud of making us work together. Like he hadn’t just given me the biggest test of my patience I had no intention of acing a minute ago. 

“Oh by the way,” he turned, clearly headed for the back door to the parking lot. “Both of your jobs depend on it. So play nice.” I could swear I just saw devil horns poking through his hair just then as he smirked and twirled on his heel. He sauntered away and whistled some unknown tune, seemingly unaware of the bomb he had just dropped in front of me, its faint ticking in time with his retreating footsteps.

“Can I call you Professor Sparkles?” He had leaned in closer so I could hear his whisper. The urge to slap the smugness off of his face was heavy. My hand may have twitched. On its own, of course. The smile he was sporting was dangerous. Time to throw caution to the wind.  I leaned in as well, not wanting anyone else to hear what I was saying. 

“Alright Puck. You wanna play?” I leaned in an inch closer, my lips tugging at the corners. “Then let’s play.”

[aquagirl1978]

Hot and Bothered - Ibuki x Reader (Ikemen Genjiden)

A/N: Part of the Late Summer Rendezvous hosted by @xxsycamore

Pairing: Ibuki x Reader

Prompt: sex in open sea onsen

Word count: 980

Tags: NSFW; Minors - DNI; fingering; cockwarming; penetration (piv); semi-public sex; female-bodied reader (no pronouns used)

“The water isn’t getting any hotter.”

The demon seated in the water simply stared at you, his hand hovering just above the water, his fingernails making small ripples in the water. Sighing softly, you could feel Ibuki undress you with his eyes, which only added to your hesitation. 

The demon had no shame, but, for some reason, you found yourself suddenly quite modest. 

It wasn’t because you had never been in the nude before him before; his eyes had laid upon your bare figure more times than you could count. It wasn’t because you were not interested in him; you had made love many, many times before.

You knew exactly what it was holding you back – it was the source of both your hesitation and your excitement.

When Ibuki had invited you to the onsen, a sweet thrill raced through your body. You had never been to the hot springs before, so naturally, you were excited to go, and to go with your lover was just an added bonus.

But that’s where the trouble lies, isn't it?

Perhaps if there were other people here, Ibuki would have to behave himself. Perhaps. And perhaps if there was something suitable to wear while in the springs…

“If you don’t get undressed right now, I just might rip that kimono off your body.” His gaze was cold and intense as his crystal blue eyes pierced you, sending a shiver down your spine. Your hand trembled as you began to untie your obi, knowing your fate was sealed the moment you accepted the invite.

Clumsy fingers took time to untie the strings, but once undone, the belt was loosened and removed. You took a few steps towards the water, a smile creeping on Ibuki’s lips. Slowly, you removed the fabric from your shoulders, the air crisp and cool against your warm skin. 

Dipping a toe in the water, you were pleased to feel its warmth against your bare skin. Another step, and another step and you were able to submerge much of your body, ensuring all your sensitive areas were hidden underwater.

“That’s better,” Ibuki purred as you made your way closer to him. He reached out and grabbed you, his long arms dragging you right where he wanted you – on his lap. He wrapped an arm around your waist, his large hand resting between your thighs, coaxing a soft sigh to leave your lips. Your body was already warm from the water, but you could feel that heat rising to your cheeks as he stroked your most sensitive spot with his thumb.

With his other hand, he brushed your hair to one side, exposing your neck to him. His breath was warm, his lips soft as his teeth gently grazed the column of your neck. Your body writhed in his arms as he sucked a bruising kiss onto your delicate skin, his erect cock pressing against your back.

He easily slipped a finger, and later two more, inside your slit, enjoying the sweet sounds you made as he pumped his fingers deep inside you, his fingers curling, reaching your most sensitive spots.

Back arched, you pressed your hips against his; no longer shy or modest, you wanted to feel him inside you. 

Tilting your face to meet his, your eyes met his, laced with lust. “I need you,” you whispered, gasping when he moved both hands to your hips. 

His fingers dug into your soft flesh, guiding you onto his hard cock. His shaft, slick from the springs, easily slipped inside you, stretching you as he filled you, inch by pleasurable inch. Once fully seated on his cock, he pressed down on your thighs, pinning you in that position.

Any attempt to move, to gain any bit of friction, was fruitless – the demon holding you in place was simply too strong. His wicked laughter filled the air, a wide smile surely adorned his handsome face. He enjoyed watching you squirm and wriggle; he took pleasure knowing he was the source of your torment. 

Torturing you is too easy, he often said, well aware that you were already addicted to him, to his teasing ways. That he could have his way with you, and you would keep coming back for more. 

“Please…” you begged, your eyes half-lidded as the fire inside threatened to consume your entire being. What you would give to be able to succumb to its flames; but instead, you were denied your release despite your desperate pleas. 

He pressed a kiss on the slope of your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin before gently nipping you. You let out a soft moan, your head falling back, your lips parted. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His breath was hot on your skin as he whispered in your ear, lifting your body up, then down, roughly impaling you with his thick cock.

The water made waves as Ibuki thrusted his hips at a merciless pace, his smile sadistic as he made you moan on every stroke. Words escaped you, your climax cresting as the water splashed around your torso, the heat from the water mixing with that of your core. 

He dragged a hand down your chest, a long fingernail scratched your skin before cupping your breast in his palm. He squeezed roughly, his thumb teasing your nipple; his other hand teased your clit. Your body, overwhelmed with stimulation, quickly became undone, the crest of your climax extinguishing the fires blazing in your belly.

Ibuki let out a groan, the sound low and primal as his body stiffened, spilling his seed inside you as he joined you in euphoria.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him as you rested your head against his chest. Stroking your hair gently, he placed a soft kiss on your brow, not wanting to disturb this moment of peaceful serenity just yet.

Tagging: @itsjudesfault @xbalayage

[oldbutnotyetwise]

My Last Happy Birthday To My Dear Elizabeth

     As my ALS marches on stealing more and more from me, the lists of my “Lasts” continues to grow.  In the past few weeks I had my last Christmas and my last New Years.  This week I shared my daughters birthday with her, the last one I will ever share with her.  Next year by the time her birthday rolls around I will be long gone from this earth.

     I enjoy my time with Elizabeth, this year for her birthday Robin and I ordered in food from her chosen restaurant, had desserts from an area bake shop, watched a movie and then played some Mexican Train Dominoes, which is a bit of a family tradition.  It was a quiet but nice afternoon and evening.  As much as I was enjoying this time I will admit that I was struggling a bit, but I managed to hold it together until after Elizabeth had left to go home.  Elizabeth had just gone out the door to go home when the emotional floodgates burst open, the devastation of knowing that I will never again be with her on her birthday sharing the joy of her reaching another age milestone.  No more birthday cards or gifts to buy for her, it’s done, it’s over, she will carry on without me as she should, just as I have after losing my own parents.  I suppose it’s this whole circle of life thing.

     While Elizabeth was here I had joked with her that I was struggling with this whole having a Middle-Aged Child.  Earlier in the day I had shared this lament with my Step-Mother, but I gained little sympathy from her as she pointed out that all of her offspring are well into their senior citizenship.  Intrigued or perhaps depressed at this thought when I shared it with her, Elizabeth pulled out her phone and goggled the average life expectancy of a female in Canada, and learned it is 84.47 years, so having just turned 42, she was indeed “Middle-Aged”.  There is no disputing that she does actually look 10 or 15 years younger than her actual age.

     There was a time Elizabeth and I would plan adventures for her birthdays.  For her twenty-third birthday I flew to New Zealand to spend three and a half weeks touring the south island with her in an old rental car we named Sputter.  On her actual birthday we were backpacking across lush green mountaintops, going from warm sunny weather into an ice storm and back to warm temperatures as we came down out of the mountains.  This was only time I ever had Elizabeth all to myself on her actual birthday, it also lives on as one of my favourite memories.   For her twenty-fifth birthday I picked her up in Ottawa and we drove to Quebec City for a few days, this also coincided with a brutal cold front that was setting record low temperatures for the month of January there.  We booked a walking tour and the poor guide must have thought us crazy, it was only the two of us on the tour, he added a lot of church interiors to the tour just so we all didn’t freeze to death.  When Elizabeth’s twenty-seventh birthday was rolling around she was living in England and we decided to meet in Paris for her birthday adventure.  I met her at the Charles DeGaulle Airport and together we hauled our suitcases onto the subway and found our way to our rented apartment for the week.  Okay if I’m being honest here, Elizabeth found our way to the apartment, I just followed along like the well behaved parent I was.  We walked all over Paris for the entire week, and on Elizabeth’s actual 27th birthday were standing on top of the Eiffel Tower together, another life highlight for me. 

     I would like to introduce you to the amazing woman who has the good fortune, or perhaps misfortune of sharing half my DNA,  Elizabeth Louise entered this world on a cold January day at 3:58 p.m. at the Niagara Falls General Hospital.  She was named after two of her great-grandmothers.  If memory serves me correctly she was 6 pounds 8 ounces and measured 17 inches tall.  I was there when she made her entrance, but in all honesty it’s all a bit of a blur to me now.  

     She grew up being a happy child, an active child and a pretty well behaved child, yes and dare I say it, a very cute child. 

          We moved to a country home where Elizabeth stayed with my wife and I, until she moved to her Mom’s the summer she was fourteen.  Elizabeth and I always got along very well, she was a good helper and like to learn so she and I would be building or fixing things in the workshop, or changing electrical fixtures in the house or working on the truck or tractor.  I was a runner and when I would go for a run Elizabeth would often join me on her bike, carrying my water bottle.  During the run we would have the nicest conversations, away from all other worldly distractions.  It is one of the things I am very grateful for, that Elizabeth and I were always able to talk.

     When she finished the University of Ottawa she went to New Zealand and Australia living in each country for six months.  Later she moved to England and lived in Leeds for a year, using her grandparent’s British Lineage to get her a work Visa.  After returning to Canada she lived in Toronto before meeting a partner who she followed out to Victoria for several years, and then down to Colorado for several more.  

     She has worked for Ikea in four different cities and three different countries.  Then in her thirties she decided to go back to school where she qualified as a welder which is the career she continues to pursue.

     Elizabeth has always been somewhat fitness oriented, maybe she thought it looked like fun all those years earlier when she rode her bike beside me as I ran.  One year she gave me the gift of running with me in a Father’s Day 5K in Ottawa, it was her first race.  It was cold, it was raining and there was a large hill on the course.  We finished that race side by side but she was in tears and physically spent.  I thought that might have been both the start and the end of her running pursuits, but it turned out she was no quitter.  We ran numerous other races together over the years, and in time I no longer had to wait for her, it was her waiting for me.  In time she has beaten just about all my running records, and done several marathons compared to my one.  If that wasn’t enough she then took up Triathlons and eventually completed an Ironman, finishing under her goal of fourteen hours.  Now days she is also competing in fitness competitions through her gym, in her last one she won her age category and was the third female overall.  She was, and continues to be a fitness machine.  

     Now the person behind all these achievements also happens to be one of the nicest, kindest, most thoughtful people you could ever meet.  Yes, you’re right I am very biassed, but I’m also right about this.  She makes me so very proud, she will live on long after I am gone, and where she goes, a part of me will always go with her.  

     Sometimes in life we search far and wide for inspiring people or great stories, but sometimes we should stop and look a little closer to home, because sometimes those around us have stories just as amazing as those we seek out.  Such is the case with Elizabeth, this beautiful, kind, wise, world traveller, adventurer, athlete and all round incredible person.  She also happens to be my daughter, my legacy, and my best contribution to trying to make this world a better place.

[karmic-toast]

☆Onto Liyue★

Next>> First>>

Warnings: None

A/n: to any one confused, Lumi is Y/n!! Not LUMINE!!

“Rock paper scissors shoot!” “Oh, you won again Lumi! You must be good at this.” Bennett says. “I think this has more to do with your bad luck.” Lumi countered. Bennett is the first to spot you. “Y/n! You took so long, we were starting to worry!” They definitely didn’t seem worried at all, playing rock paper scissors, but you don’t say anything about it. “See? I knew you could do it!” She adds, spotting Albedo behind you. Soon, Albedo is all over Lumi asking her questions he’d bombarded you earlier with. “So, you say you’re from a different world? Have you always looked like this?” Lumi looks at your freshly bandaged finger and slightly backed away as Albedo pulled out his dagger. “Woah there, I have golden blood. I’ve already checked.” “How interesting. Two creators.” Albedo murmurs to himself. “Sooooo. Do you think you can convince Mondstadt that we’re not imposters?” Lumi asks hopefully. Albedo almost immediately shakes his head. “I doubt it. Jean seemed to have her mind set on that your grace is the imposter. She’d kill you on the spot.” “Oh.” you, Lumi, and Bennett sigh. “Maybe with a few more allies…” Albedo suggests. “Is there anyone else in Mondstadt?” you ask your friends. “Everyone in the knights of Favonius is out I guess.” Bennett says. “Diluc is stubborn, and Barbara and Rosaria would be really… religious. I wouldn’t count on it that they’d go against their ‘creator’.” Lumi adds. A layer of silence falls on the four of you. A tiny thought rises in your head, but you were quick to push it down. You couldn’t go to Liyue. There were bigger threats there. “…Liyue?” Lumi put forward, stealing your idea that you had just discarded. No one replies. “C’mon guys, I’m sure there’s someone…” “Actually, your grace has a point.” Albedo murmurs. “If you get the qixing on your side, maybe even the adepti, that would be victorious.” “Okay then.” you agree to the idea. “Alright, let’s go!” Bennett cheers. “No.” you and Lumi say. “It’s too dangerous.” you quickly add once seeing Bennett’s crestfallen face. “But I wanted to help…” Bennett trails off. “You can help by gaining some support for us,” Lumi suggests, to which Bennett happily nodded his head. “I will do the same.” Albedo pledges. After saying your goodbyes, you and Lumi start your adventure in Liyue.

Throughout your journey, there were several close calls. After leaving Dragonspine, you both were immediately attacked by the knights. Though none of them had been able to catch you, they had planned a pretty good ambush attack. Another was when Diluc himself had appeared out of nowhere with a fiery claymore. Luckily, he missed by an inch, but that didn't stop him from tackling her to the floor. You had managed to get a hold of his weapon, which was miraculously still burning and drove him back. After the incident, Lumi had a little limp. She promised that she was ok, but you couldn’t help but worry. Other than those scary times, there weren’t that many ambushes. It unsettled you in a way.

The fic you read mentioned way more pain and heartache than this, right? … Rain drenched your surroundings, yet a single droplet of land didn’t drop on you. You couldn’t say the same for Lumi though. She was soaked from head to toe, only being spared from the harsh wind of the storm. Lumi had suggested that you were some type of water god, to only which you replied by laughing. The torrential rains soon stopped and happy chirping arrived from nearby birds. You both approach a clearing, where most of the trees conveniently surrounded you. Lumi lets out a sharp gasp and grabs onto your shoulders. “It’s Dvalin!” she cries out, catching the attention of the sky blue dragon. Sure enough, the dragon was there, in all of its glory. It was mostly covered by the leaves of nearby trees, so you were impressed that Lumi had found Dvalin so quickly. “Your grace.” the mystical creature rumbles. “Dvalin could help convince Venti that we’re not the imposters!” she says excitedly. “Barbatos has yet to recognize you?” it said, cocking its head to one side, slowly. “He kinda let his people chase me out,” you say sheepishly. It lets out a growl of displeasure, which is terrifying by the way. “I shall go and teach him how to respect the divine one. But before that, can I give you the pleasure of flying you to your destination?”

Riding a dragon was NOT pleasurable. For most of the ride, you had to squeeze your eyes shut. At least Lumi was having fun. You could hear her yelling ‘faster’, and ‘higher’ through the roaring wind, which you really hoped Dvalin couldn’t hear. Thankfully, the ancient dragon continued its pace. Soon you could see the yellow-leaved trees of Liyue. “We’re at Dihua Marsh!” Lumi exclaims as you both get off the dragon. The islands were more breathtaking when you could see it in person. “Excuse me, my lady, I shall head back to Mondstadt. And teach that insolent fool a lesson.“ “Ooohhh! Sounds intense.” Lumi replies distractedly, while she looks around her surroundings. The dragon flapped its huge wings and left, and the two of you wasted no time and went forming a plan. Surprisingly, Lumi denied the golden blood plan, which seemed most logical to you. She reasoned that even if it wouldn’t earn the two of you an immediate execution, it would still be a problem if the imposter had the blood of the gods as well. “Let’s go to Wangshun inn.” You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. She wanted to go see the person that was capable of slicing her head off in a mere second! “Are you seriou-” “C’mon, what’s the worse that could happen? Plus, I know you want to meet him as much as I do~” Sighing in defeat, you give her the most annoyed look you could muster. “I swear, you’ll be the death of me.” “I could say the same for you!” “Excuse me?” somebody quips from behind the two of you. Lumi quickly grabs onto your hand, ready to run at any notice. “Uuuh, huh?! Is it just Paimon, or do these two look exactly the same??” “Yeah…” It was Aether and Paimon. “Aether?!” Lumi was the one to overcome the panic first. ”Oh yes, umm I heard that you knew someone named Lumine, so I…” he hesitates. You cock your head in confusion. Lumi seemed to have noticed what was going on. “Ah! Did Bennett or Razor say that my name is Lumi?” she says sheepishly. “You’re…?” the golden-haired boy wasn’t able to mask the disappointment in his eyes. “Oh come on! Do you mean that Paimon was dragged all the way here for a wild goose chase?! You owe me some sticky honey roast, Aether! Don’t you know how tiring it is to keep up with you when you run??” The fairy complained. The boy doesn’t answer. He stares at his feet for a few moments of silence. His mind trails over to the person who led him on this worthless quest. “Excuse me, have you someone named Lumine? She’s my sister… And she also wears outlandish clothes!” Aether inquires the blonde. “I, Fischl, Prinzessin der Verurteilung,… have no idea who you're talking about. Perhaps you should find better luck asking someone else. But do not worry dear traveler, for with my left eye, the Auge der Verurteilung, which sees the threads of fate, I shall search for her.” “Excuse me have you seen my sister Lumine? She wears outlandish clothes.” This time a white-haired boy replies. “Oh! I think I might know! Lumine as in Lumi, right? She’s from a different world, like you!” Aether had perked up at the possible mention of his sibling. “Wait, you know where she is?!” “Yep, in Liyue. Alive and well. At least I hope.” … “So who told you that?” “Bennett.” “Oh. Well, I’m very sorry for this misunderstanding.” “It’s alright.” Aether sighs, placing a hand on his forehead. “We were going to the Wangshu Inn anyways.” “Oh, really!” you perk up. Aether's face pales a bit. “As somebody who has a twin, I know how similar the two of you could be, but your voices!? You sound like a duplicate of her.” he points at Lumi. “Well, I was going to say, maybe we could join your adventure to the Inn!” you say opting to ignore his somewhat offensive observation. “Sounds good to Paimon!” “And I as well!” Lumi peeps. “I guess we could.” Aether consents. You meet eyes with Lumi and she wiggles her eyebrows. You immediately knew what she was trying to say. Aether had no idea about the imposter situation.

Masterlist

[okcomputeroknotok19972017]

lays on my stomach and KICKS MY FEET tell me about ur saw ocs!!!!!

OOOOOOOKAAYYYYY admittedly they are not the most fleshed out but i initially made them for an english assignment in late 2020 when my saw special interest first began and now they're Here. lydia is a self-destructive and generally unpleasant petty thief flunking art school. she's constantly angry, nasty, abrasive, never has anything nice to say, she's pretty much perpetually attempted suicide again sometime within the last two weeks. she's worse than adam, at least he could chill out for a fucking moment. lydia started art school with her parents' help back when she believed her life was worth living, now she keeps her grades and attendance up just barely enough to keep living on campus for the time being while she steals from the register and collects from a card skimmer at her night shift at the convenience store. here's some extremely old art from 2020 lol ...

sebastian meanwhile is a fairly mild mannered young man working at a credit union -- he used to sweep the floors and work the front desk, but now he's a lender. for as anxious and honest as he is, his desire for approval and consistency has led to some bad behavior. he'll mislead customers about the lending process, get them started on different plans than they intended, etc, all for the sake of doing well at his job. it was his idea to be a predatory lender, but the boss doesn't care what he says or does as long as he keeps those numbers up.

lydia and sebastian's first meeting is under less than ideal circumstances. the trap is designed for only one of them to survive -- the details are fuzzy in my mind, but something is closing in, time is running out, some twisted test of their skills as thieves. sebastian ends up leaving the room when the time is up, leaving lydia trapped and screaming. this is really how she's going to die. so many attempts, so much pain and misery she had lived through, but she didn't want it to end like this.

though designed for only one person to survive, sebastian's pleas to the paramedics and police lead to lydia being found some hours later, still alive. they didn't get along very well in the few hours they knew each other, but he couldn't let another person, especially not one so much like himself, die in there.

striking up a friendship in these ... unusual circumstances is awkward but natural. college is giving lydia straight a's for the rest of the semester for what she's been through and sebastian has paid time off as they lay low from the media, quietly spending their time in physical therapy as well as a jigsaw survivor support group together. lydia cannot believe that someone could be so kind to her, could want her to keep living, and sebastian can't believe that she understands him, she is honest and sees through him and talks to Him, not what he presents to the outside world. lydia grows softer in his presence and sebastian grows stronger in hers. kisses ensue.

though they become the centers of each others worlds, recovering from This Mess is far from smooth sailing. codependency underlays their romance, entwines them like half-dead rats in a glue trap. the love is real, but above all else they stick with each other because there is nobody else. physical therapy is difficult. sebastian is blind and deaf in his left eye and ear, and lydia's right leg and pelvis were injured so badly that she's had hip surgery at age 25 and walks with a forearm crutch at all times. the emotional pain is the worst part. nightmares plague them both, paranoia seeps into every crevice of their minds, and as lydia gains a new appreciation for being alive a boiling sense of rage and injustice whirls inside of her.

she's never been very good at coping. sebastian is doing better, but only by an inch -- he relies a lot on lydia to keep him sane, checks in on her constantly and begins to live For her. some kind of fucked in the head househusband who's still the breadwinner as his parents pump cash into his account. the media appearances help, too. anyways, while sebastian dissolves into neuroticism, lydia spirals into deep hatred. she didn't deserve this. none of the other victims deserved this. most of all, her shining star, her perfect boyfriend sebastian didn't deserve it. and that jigsaw killer is still out there, he still hasn't learned his lesson ...

mandy passes her the note at a survivor support group. she starts telling seb that she's going to get another late shift job, she's a night owl after all. in the warehouse covered in grime and blood, all lydia can think about is the smell of metal and the lashing of chains and the sound of her lover screaming. as an art student, lydia is no stranger to building Contraptions. i'm serious my mom went to art school and they were fucking constantly building stuff. ok anyways she's first assigned to the blueprints, she puts together the small things and draws up her own traps, doing her best to design them non-lethally without arousing suspicion. inevitably, people end up dying in her designs. the first few times she is asked to design and then supervise a large trap, she pulls the strings to let the test subjects out as unharmed as possible. the other apprentices have a word with john and she's put back on design duty. she knows suspicion is on her, and she has to act like a good apprentice again to get closer to her goal: killing john kramer.

it's difficult to work out where all of the apprentices fit into this. i don't want amanda in much of it because they would be having evil lesbian sex all the time, but i do like the idea of her as an occasional presence in the background. i think it would serve better if she were out of the picture sometime before john is, but i think it's ok if mark is there. i like the dramatic imagery of him boarding a plane to south america by the very end, the music swells and we see him shift his eyes nervously as he knows he's totally fucked and needs to end this Now, needs to get out and completely start a new life.

the day sebastian finds out is the day lydia finally kills john. she's been increasingly ignoring his texts at "work," been crying a lot more, all the progress made with her nightmares and her rage has totally regressed. he follows her there, his heart pounding. a terrifying crawl through the maze of a warehouse and he sees her ... she's standing over an old, frail man, hands and arms soaked in blood up to the elbows -- god, he didn't know blood could be so dark. she's crying, twisting up her face when she sees him, always grateful for his presence but terrified now of her own violence. "i did it, i saved us, i saved everyone." tears stream down her face. sebastian flinches away, knocks into a hanging chain. he doesn't know who she is. he doesn't know how much planning this has taken, how much death this has taken, what any of this means for him and lydia. all he knows is that she's scared, he's scared, he's scared of her.

i don't know where i want to go after that. horrible awful relationship goals where he cleans her up and flees with her and promises he still loves her? a moment of panic and poor judgement where one or both of them ends up dead? who knwos ......

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Nobody

CW: Choking/strangulation, whumper as whumpee, guns, brief dubcon and gore mentions, brief gendered slur towards the end

For @amonthofwhump day 11: Strangulation

You can find more Nanda on Jameson’s masterlist

-

He was stupid, really. Just fucking full-on stupid. No excuse for it, no reason, no understandable explanation for what he'd overlooked. Forgetting to check one single room in the enormous house. Losing track of one person for just a few seconds. Not even his assigned target. 

Just one single man in one single room that Nathaniel Benson hadn't accounted for.

One stupid mistake, and now he's on his back with heavy hands closed tight around his neck, gasping for a thin thread of air he can just barely pull into his lungs. 

This asshole, with a face like a thumb that got delusions of grandeur, is going to kill him and dump his body and Nanda's brand new house will go to some chump who doesn't even deserve it. 

"Let… go-" He hisses, but honestly, he doesn't even know if this guy speaks any English. There's no reason for Thumb Face to know it, they're deep inside the borders of another nation across the breadth of the world. But he says it anyway.

It's pure instinct, and just as stupid as forgetting to check that room. Like the guy will just decide to pull back, whoopsie-doodle, guess I'll stop trying to kill you since you clearly don't actually want me to… 

As it is, the guy only sneers down at him, and leans forward. His weight on Nanda's stomach keeps him pressed into the floor, just a few feet away from his gun. 

He could fix this, if he could only reach that gun. Just a few inches too far away. Just a little too far. 

Just far enough. 

Bright white bursts like fireworks flash in his vision, his body pleading with him for oxygen he can't provide. Between those sparking lights, he can see the snarling expression of the man who will soon murder him, his teeth far too white to seem real, sweat beading up on his forehead over a pulsing vein. 

I am going to die at the hands of a man who looks like a child drew him while blindfolded. 

His fingernails scrape and scrabble along the man's thick forearms, gaining purchase but no strength to pull him away. He's already torn long red gashes, but none of it moves the man at all. 

If only he could reach his fucking gun-

His vision grows dark at the edges, heart pounding, desperate to force what oxygen he has left to his brain to keep it working for as long as it can. 

The darkness is growing… 

Who will even miss him? After he's pitched into some dark river and found by police who see no identification on an anonymous corpse? Who would notice when Nathaniel Benson never comes home?

No one. No-fucking-body.

He has a brand-new, entirely empty six-bedroom house with a cleaning lady paid by automatic draft who has never seen his face. It would take a year for the drafts to stop. He has a series of one-night stands with cute boys who come their brains out under his whip and his dick but never want to fuck him twice to show for every time he's tried to find someone with tastes like his own who won't tell a safeword as soon as things really get fun. Phone numbers that won't pick up if he calls. Pretty men who leave when he enters the bar. 

He has a sister who would mourn him, but he only speaks with Sammie once a month or so… oh, and nieces and nephews who might remember him for a couple of years. He has parents who pretend he never existed until he's right in front of them…

Who would miss him? 

Christ, who would even pay for the tombstone? Or even be notified if anyone did identify his body? One stupid mistake and his life stops like it never began. 

Nanda finds just enough air to grunt, but when he tries once more to breathe in, the bastard's thumbs on his windpipe and his fingers closed tight leave no room. 

The air stops in his mouth, over his tongue, sits there like a weight or the name of a lover he doesn't have. 

The guy's wearing a V-neck sweater and when he leans over so far his stomach is pressing to Nanda's chest, he sees a flash of light on dull metal through the growing darkness taking over his vision. 

He doesn't think about it. Thinking is getting harder, it would take too long to think it through. Instead, he pulls his right hand back, jams it up under the guy's shirt, and pulls the gun awkwardly out of the underarm holster he's wearing. 

He's nearly gone, he can't see anymore. His heart pounds in his temples and ears and he hears absolutely nothing when his finger pulls the trigger, once twice three times, the gun kicking back into his own stomach, over and over. 

He's not even sure if he really fired it - or just hallucinated it - until the hands on his throat go slack and then fall away, as the man slumps to the side, half-on and half-off of Nanda.

He coughs as his throat whistles with new breath, head spinning from the lack of and sudden overwhelm of oxygen, laying limp on the cold hard floor. 

The man with his thumb-shaped head coughs, too, but it doesn't do him any good. He'd coughing in a thick, wet way that tells Nanda he shot through his lungs, or at least through one. 

Nanda manages to shove him off the rest of the way, and with agony starting to throb behind his eyes, he rolls onto his side and then onto his hands and knees to crawl to the place his own gun had fallen. The thumb man's gun in one hand, his own in the other, he turns around to face the dying asshole whose hands he can still feel like ghosts clinging to his throat. 

"Fuck you," He says in a rasping, whistling thin reedy voice. "I wasn't even h-here to kill you."

He raises his own gun, a wonderful familiar weight, and fires. 

The man's head abruptly loses half its bulk and now it isn't shaped like anything at all. But the wall behind him is painted a beautiful bright red streaked with grayish-white. 

Nathaniel Benson slowly drags himself to his feet, holstering his own gun, stumbling down the hallway. He checks his watch, closing his eyes as the world lurches around him when he tries to focus on the numbers. 

The target will be home soon. 

He has two hours to clean this mess up if he wants the kill to be according to his original plan. Or, he supposes, he could brew some tea, clean up his fingerprints, and kill the bitch when she walks in the front door after the opera. Or just after.

Let her see her thumb-lover's body, first. Let her mourn him. If she even does. He’s not sure how anyone could mourn someone who smelled so much like beer cheese dip without pretzels.

Still, give the target a couple of hours to discover him.

Then kill her. 

Nanda leans back against the wall, his own sweat trickling down the back of his neck to disappear into his shirt. 

Get the job done. Get home.

And then go find someone who will do anything he wants and still miss him when he's gone. 

-

@finder-of-rings  @endless-whump  @arlinthesnep  @thefancydoughnut  @newandfiguringitout  @doveotions  @pretty-face-breaker  @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow  @boxboysandotherwhump  @oops-its-whump  @cubeswhump  @whump-tr0pes  @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump  @whumpiary  @orchidscript  @nonsensical-whump  @outofangband  @eatyourdamnpears  @hackles-up  @grizzlie70  @mylifeisonthebookshelf  @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp

[fluff-foraxil]

Until the end (Doflamingo x F!Reader) - 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 6

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - . - Chapter 7

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

~ A few months later ~

(Y/N) was officially part of the Donquixote Family, the children were strong enough to protect themselves, so she was a sort of bodyguard for them having mastered her devil fruit quickly. She even started going on missions whenever Doflamingo ordered her to.

She ate the Tāru-Tāru Fruit, a Logia type that gave her the ability to turn into a thick black viscous liquid, like tar; she created sticky barriers to stop long and short-range attacks, she could trap her enemies in her liquid and suffocate them with it. One time an enemy tried to stab her, but found his weapon stuck in her body as she gripped his head and engulfed it with her liquid suffocating him in an instant; it felt good to finally being able to let her anger out on others.

Doflamingo was sincere with her and told her about his past as a Celestial Dragon, (Y/N) took some time to process it but she had nothing against him since he accepted her into his family and gave her power, a new start and a new family after hers was destroyed due to a war. She was amazed at how, in such a short amount of time, she changed. Before people wouldn't even look at her, let alone respect her, but now she was feared by others; in battle, enemies that went against her were able to let out a short scream before falling silent, that characteristic gave her the epithet: "The Silencer". Her bounty wasn't as high as other officers, but she didn't care as long as she succeeded in her missions.

The member of the family took a bit to warm up to her, but she was well liked by the kids, Law included, so it wasn't long before the rest took a liking in her. She was good at following orders without wasting time, always finishing her missions quickly and precisely, her loyalty was unquestioned. She became the perfect subordinate, which gained her more respect from Doflamingo. He knew he could always count on her.

Obviously, (Y/N) didn't forget those who were there for her before everything took a turn, she still had her night chats with Rosinante, who was starting to worry for her, especially after her bond with his older brother seemed to have gotten stronger. She saw him as a saviour, a fatal encounter that brought her in a world that was unknown and scary, but that gave her the power she wanted and needed to break out of her cage of fear and insecurity.

«Roci, don't worry, I'm a big girl now», giggling while staring at the man's reply, she patted his shoulder, «Tomorrow we have a mission together, I'm so excited! We've never been on a mission together».

'Yeah, I can't wait either', he smiled.

Rosinante wanted to see her true power, he had seen her training and sparring with other members of the family, but she never used her full potential.

«We should get some rest then, I don't want to be sluggish during a mission», she stretched after getting on her feet.

'Goodnight, (Y/N)',

«Goodnight, Roci», she kissed his cheek, «Sleep well».

Turning in for the night, (Y/N) got everything ready once she was in her bedroom. After becoming an official member, Doflamingo gave her a room of her own like the others; she decided to take a shower to unwind from the stress of that day, turning on the warm water she stared at the tattoo on her back in the mirror, admiring the healed skin and telling herself that, maybe, in the future, she could get another tattoo. She liked the way the ink complimented her skin.

She jumped under the shower and washed her body, scrubbing every inch of skin, making sure she was squeaky clean before turning the water off and wrapping herself in a fluffy towel. The smell of the iris and lavender shower gel always relaxed her.

«Who could it be?», she put on her panties and bra when a knock interrupted her.

Throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, she opened the door. The sight of Doflamingo made her have a mini heart attack.

«Young Master? What can I do for you?», she was taken aback by the man's presence.

He pushed her back and stepped in, leaving her confused.

"Hello, to you too, I guess", closing the door she turned towards him.

Doflamingo sat comfortably on her bed, looking around her room. The curtains were open to let the moon light in, the lamp on her bedside table was on, a book laying near it; her desk had a stack of neatly organized papers of her past missions on it, with her journal beside it; her wardrobe was still open since the girl was changing just moments before; her previously used towel abandoned on the chair of her desk. The room smelled like her shower gel; the man felt his chest become lighter just by being in the girl's presence.

When he walked in, he abandoned his feathered coat on the armchair near the window, he kicked off his shoes as well before laying on the girl's bed, back against the headboard and legs crossed staring at her.

«Come here», he ordered.

(Y/N) closed the door and sat on the bed near him, he wasn't looking at her, she couldn't feel his piercing gaze on her.

«Young Master? Is everything alright?», she was getting worried by his silence.

His expression was incomprehensible, his usual smile not present, his eyes hidden by the shades were looking at a non-specific point. The girl was getting agitated by the situation, not knowing what went through his mind was stressful, so she tried to speak again.

«Silence», he shushed her, pressing his finger against her lips.

Confused like never before, she shrugged and laid down beside him facing the ceiling, hands behind her head. Doflamingo finally turned his head to look at her, finding (Y/N) already staring at him, her (E/C) eyes trying to find any trace of whatever emotion he was feeling without success; he was a complicated man, his mind worked in complicated ways. Whoever could understand him was upstanding, but rare were those who were actually able to do such a thing.

«You can stay if you'd like, Young Master», she whispered, «I do need sleep though, I have a mission tomorrow».

He didn't react to her statement, so she turned on her side and got comfortable before closing her eyes.

Sleeping was difficult when a ten feet tall man was laying in her bed, burning hole in the back of her head.

The bed creaked under the man's weight as he shifted around, turning towards her; one of his arms on top of the smaller girl brought her closer to his body, while his head rested near hers, his body shielding hers from the outside world. (Y/N) was astonished by Doflamingo's behaviour but let him do as he pleased, enjoying the warmth his body emanated.

«Goodnight, Young Master», she yawned before falling asleep, lulled by his presence.

Doflamingo didn't respond, too busy taking in each and every part of her features. He couldn't explain to himself how such a little being could make him feel at peace; he had his Family who accepted him and did everything to please him, following his every order without questions, she did too but there was something different about her. His hands dirty and stained with the blood of his enemies, hands uncapable of loving gestures almost a nemesis to (Y/N)'s hands, hands that could give so much love despite being bloody since joining his crew.

Burying his head in her hair he took a deep breath, her perfume inhibiting his senses and bringing an unfamiliar sense of comfort to him.

Making sure to not wake her, he took off his glasses putting them on the nightstand before resuming his position as the big spoon and closing his eyes, sleep taking over him.

It was the middle of the night, (Y/N) opened her eyes, the urge to use the bathroom awoke her from her deep slumber. Realizing that Doflamingo was still by her side, she snuck out of his arms and went into the bathroom making sure the light wouldn't wake the man. Just those few moments of absence were enough for Doflamingo's dream to turn into a nightmare, he was back to that night, being tied up and blindfolded by the commoners who wanted their revenge against the Celestial Dragons; it was like he could still feel the warmth of the flames under him, warming his face and body while his father and younger brother were near him, the peasants crying and yelling insults at them. In the real world, he was starting to sweat, getting restless as his hands clutched the bedsheets, letting out low grunts of fear as his heartbeat got faster.

(Y/N) stepped out and heard the continuous shifts of the covers, getting closer to the man, she carefully tried to wake him up from his slumber. In a second she found herself on the ground, nose bleeding and a pain in her cheek; sitting up she looked at Doflamingo who was panting as drops of cold sweat slid down his face and into the covers.

Without realizing, Doflamingo struck her thinking she was one of those people who tried to kill him back then.

«Young Master?», she tried to get his attention.

Taking careful steps towards him, she took his glasses off the nightstand offering them to him without looking at his face. If he always wore them, then it must have been because he didn't want anyone to see his eyes, so she didn't dare to peek. The man accepted them and put them on, his breath getting steadier.

«Are you alright?», he asked seeing the blood run down (Y/N)'s nose.

She smiled and nodded.

«I'm ok, Young Master. Were you having a nightmare? Do you need something?», her lovely smile made him come back to reality.

Doflamingo shook his head, running a hand through his hair he looked at the clock on the wall: 02.30. He wouldn't be able to go back to sleep for sure, so he settled with laying in (Y/N)'s bed for the rest of the time. The bed dipped under her as she got back in her place, laying down while facing him, she admired the tall man. In the moon light he looked like a piece of art with his sculped chest and chiselled face, if he just wasn't such a dick, she would find him more attractive.

«You know», she started seeing that he wasn't falling asleep, «In my hometown there's this story about a noisy spider who, almost, knew everything about everyone».

Doflamingo turned his head towards her, curious as to why she was telling him such a story.

«However, he wanted to know more, he wanted to actually know everything so he went to the Sun God and asked him to share his wisdom with him», she kept going, «The spider swore he would use it to spin tales of wonder for everyone. The Sun God proceeded to put all the wisdom in a pot and told the spider to share it with everyone».

Sitting up on the bed she smiled seeing his interest in what she was saying.

«After taking home the pot, the spider looked inside it and saw sights he had never seen before and sound he didn't know existed, so he wanted to keep all that wisdom for himself, to hide it. He found the tallest tree and, while holding the pot, he tried to climb it but it was hard», she put her hands in front of her face like if she was holding the pot in question, «That's when his youngest daughter saw him struggling and told him that he could just tie the pot on his back, so he could climb easily. Angry that he didn't think of such a simple solution, he threw the pot to the ground, breaking it. All the wisdom flew out of the broken pot, some fell here and some there. No one got all the wisdom, but everyone got some of it», she ended.

«Although, some say it was the spider's son who suggested him to tie the pot on his back. Also, some say that while the spider was tying it on his back, it slipped and fell on the ground, and that the wisdom was washed into a river by a sudden rainstorm. But the meaning of the tale is the same, everyone in the world owns a bit of wisdom», tapping her chin in thought, she turned her attention back to Doflamingo.

The man stayed silent while the girl was telling that tale.

«The spider is stupid», he commented in the end, his usual smile back on his face.

(Y/N) giggled and agreed with him.

«Why did you tell me this tale?», he asked.

«I don't know, guess is because whenever the kids have nightmare, I try to put them back to sleep with a story», realizing what she might have implied she cleared her throat, «Not that you're a kid».

Doflamingo chuckled, amused.

«The Sun God, huh?», he remembered her mentioning it in the story, «Do you believe in such religious things?».

«Well, I was raised to believe in spirits and the Supreme Being who created everything on earth. We have different gods in my culture, but I'm not sure I actually believe in them», she sighed, «My mother always told me to believe in something, it didn't matter who or what, just something. Do you believe in this thing, Young Master?».

«It's all useless stuff, fate, karma, all dumb childish thing», he replied as an unpleasant thought entered his mind.

Silence fell in the room; everyone was asleep, and the streets were empty, so no sound disrupted that silence. It felt like time stopped all of a sudden.

«Here», he took a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her.

(Y/N) was hesitant about accepting it, so Doflamingo took her face in his hand and started carefully cleaning the blood off her face.

«T-Thank you, Young Master», she blushed in embarrassment feeling like a child.

They laid back down, staring at the ceiling. A few moments passed before (Y/N) heard Doflamingo's breath become steady, signalling he fell asleep once again.

«Goodnight, Young Master», she whispered to not wake him.

She closed her eyes, falling in a deep slumber.

The next morning, as she expected, Doflamingo was gone, the only thing that he had been there the night before was a lonely pink feather that slipped under the desk. (Y/N) stretched with a yawn, remembering her mission with Rosinante, she quickly got up and changed, fetching her previously packed stuff, and heading out the door.

«Good morning, Cora-san», she greeted him.

He was sitting in the dining room, having breakfast, the other members of the Family already gone out to tend to their own business. She took a seat beside him, quietly eating her breakfast.

'What's that?', he pointed to his cheek.

(Y/N) looked at him, confused, before touching her cheek and flinching at the shock of pain; Rosinante lent her a compact mirror so she could see the forming bruise.

«Now, where did this come from?», uncertainty in her tone.

The two stared at each other, the scene comical as silence fell in the room. (Y/N)'s mind slapped itself as the memory of Doflamingo's fist hitting her the night before came back; her mouth forming a silent o as she connected the dots but, obviously, she wouldn't share with Rosinante the fact that his older brother was in her room, sleeping in her bed with her. Clearing her throat to break the silence she dismissed everything and, before leaving, put on some make-up to cover the bruise.

«Oi, Corazon, try not to get in (Y/N)'s way», Law's comment made the girl chuckled nervously.

Rosinante was clumsy, but he could stand his ground in battle even without a devil fruit.

«Bye, Law. Be a good boy while I'm away, don't make Baby 5 cry», she spurred Rosinante who was ready to make the kid learn how to fly.

The two went through the town, before venturing in a more industrial side of the island; sharing small conversations while (Y/N) kept Rosinante from falling over and catching fire, they arrived at a factory with another building connected to it, the office of the big boss was there.

«Stop right there! Who are you?», a guard was aiming his rifle at them.

«We are from the Donquixote Family, Doflamingo has a deal for your boss», (Y/N) smiled as she explained.

The guard was hesitant, Rosinante had his hand on his gun ready to fire at him, but he let them pass and lead them to his superior's office. Everything was going too smoothly, the two exchanged a look, both were on high alert knowing it wasn't going to be easy.

«Let's make this quick», she declared once she was in front of the boss, «Doflamingo has a deal for you, as you know he doesn't accept no as an answer so we can do it the easy way, just say yes, sign the document and we will be on out merry way».

Putting the paper in front of the man sitting at the desk, (Y/N) felt the hair on her neck standing up and Rosinante was looking around the room, the shades he was wearing hiding his wandering eyes. The man went through the deal quickly, obviously not interested in accepting it nor willing to let the two leave the building alive; another boss offered him an alliance to finish the Donquixote Family and the occasion to kill off two of its members had presented itself, he couldn't let them get away.

«Why don't you sit down? We can talk this through», he offered with a smile.

(Y/N) and Rosinante played along, sitting down.

«I've heard about you, The Silencer, right?», receiving a nod in response he went on, «How is someone with such a low bounty part of such a big organization?».

She kept her composure.

«Fate works in mysterious ways», she simply replied.

Tensions was rising, everyone could feel it, but the two pirates kept their cool and waited for the ambush.

A fake nice conversation started until the clock struck noon, the boss grinned.

«As you can tell, I'm not interested in a deal with Doflamingo. You wasted your time coming here, goodbye».

It all happened so fast, men barged in bearing rifles, swords, and guns; they wasted no time in jumping on the two. Rosinante quick and agile on his feet started firing away, landing kicks and punches that would make the men pass out cold; he didn't look like the clumsy younger brother who would trip on air. (Y/N) was always impressed by his combat skills, she was by his side, doing her own part and taking down man after man.

Rosinante pointed towards the door, where the boss was trying to escape that battle ground, knowing that his men couldn't stand a chance against the two of them.

«Leaving so soon?», (Y/N) made her leg turn into liquid and trapped him in a sticky trap.

«We'll be right with you, just let us finish here», she laughed.

It took less than five minutes for the duo to kill every man, bodies were laying on the ground, others were thrown out the window during the fight. The boss was still struggling to get out of the viscous liquid.

«P-Please, don't hurt me», he was on the verge of tears.

«Shhh, it's ok», petting his head (Y/N) shushed him, «Do you think Doflamingo is clueless? He knew about your agreement to take him down; the deal thing was a cover up. Now, listen to me, tell your little friend that no one can go against Donquixote Doflamingo».

The man passed out from fear when he saw the look in her eyes.

'Is he dead?', Rosinante leaned over the man checking his pulse.

«Nope, just out cold. I mean, you're so freaking tall, you must have scared him to death», she laughed before leaving the place.

As they walked through town something caught (Y/N)'s eyes; it was a plush toy, a round black cat with small black paws, the white features sewn to form the whiskers, nose, and eyes, while the internal part of the ears was pink.

«Cora-san, look, isn't it cute?», she was a child at heart.

Rosinante was looking at her, unimpressed. He didn't understand what all the fuss was about, it was just a cat plush.

(Y/N) was looking at it in adoration, eyes sparkling.

«Wait here», she was about to run inside the shop when the man grabbed her by the collar.

That left (Y/N) sulking for the whole trip back to the base, Rosinante was asking himself if she had some sort of personality disorder because of how easily she went from serious and mischievous to childish and cheerful in an instant.

«I really wanted that plushie though», she whined.

The man rolled his eyes and sighed, defeated.

The two walked into Doflamingo's office to report.

«I don't think he will recover; your brother scared him so much he fainted», (Y/N) snickered.

«Good, you can go», he dismissed the two before going back to his paperwork.

Rosinante went his way while (Y/N) went to check on the children, they were sitting outside, talking. Baby 5 and Buffalo were pestering Law about wanting to know his full name; the girl smiled and just let them be, going back to her room to take a shower and change into clean clothes.

Unbeknownst to her, Law gave in and gave his full name.

«It's Trafalgar D. Water Law», he proceeded to explain it, but the other two didn't really care about his story.

However, Rosinante was in earshot and heard his full name as well, the D in Law's name made something inside of him click. In an instant, Rosinante and Law were chatting away in a hallway; the younger Donquixote spilled his secret about him being able to talk and his devil fruit, giving Law the evil idea of snitching on him to Doflamingo which, at the end, didn't happen, making the two of them even.

[99liv3s]

Okay, here my Clinic patient idea

Name: Sophia Bloom

Hair: Chocolate Brown (But dyed dark Blue)

Eyes: Strangely Red

Age: 22

Height: 6’1

Background: She was bullied in college for her eyes and dyed hair, retreated into the internet and gained a birth fetish she keeps a secret. Fresh out graduation and immediately gets pregnant so she can enjoy the experience. Likes the idea of long labour.

Sophia waddled into the clinic, attracting a few glances in her direction from her dyed blue hair and her large baby bump. As she approached the reception desk, she clutched the front of it, grimacing. She looked directly at the receptionist, piercing her with her dark red eyes. "Hi, I think I'm in labor!" Sophia said.

15 minutes later, Sophia was found sitting alone on a bed in a birthing suite, wearing only a hospital gown and doing breathing exercises as she labored. The contractions were painful, yes, but were also quite sensual. Ever since college, where she was bullied for her unique red eyes and some of her unorthodox interests, she had harbored a strong pregnancy and birth fetish, gained from her escape into the internet. Occasionally viewing birth videos and reading stories, Sophia was anxious and excited to experience the sensations of pregnancy and birth for herself. Therefore, upon graduation, she almost immediately fell pregnant via a one night stand. Of course, the father immediately abandoned her when he found out, but this was fine with Sophia. She had been alone virtually all her life, so she was used to it, and she had originally planned to give this baby up for adoption anyway.

Sophia's pregnancy had been wonderful, better than she had dreamed, and as she sat now, laboring painfully, she thought back to all the highlights of her pregnancy. "This is it!" Sophia thought happily. "I'm finally going to give birth soon!" "I can't wait to feel it!"

An hour later, Sophia was moaning loudly, clearly in pain! "Ooohhh, I don't wanna feel it, it hurts!" She begged, as a doctor took her vitals. "I know it hurts, but you are doing well," he responded. "You're four centimeters dilated!" Sophia grimaced. "ONLY FOUR?!" she thought, as more contractions wracked her body. "I don't know if I can make it," she whined out. "You can," the doctor reassured her. "Just trust your body." "Yes, it will hurt, but birth is a magical experience too!"

Hours upon hours had passed, with the pain continuing to worsen. Night had fallen outside, and Sophia's baby seemed to be taking its sweet time getting ready to come out. Sophia was moaning and crying constantly now, as the painful contractions seemed to endlessly attack her. As the doctor came in again to check her dilation, Sophia thrashed around on the bed, thinking, "This has to be it!" "The pain can't get any worse than this!"

"AAAAAAGGGHHHH!" Sophia screamed out another hour later as two nurses held her legs open. The pain and pressure in her pelvis was unbearable, and Sophia pushed with all her might, trying to get rid of it. "Good girl, you're doing great," the doctor encouraged. "OH GOD IT HURTS, GET THIS BABY OUT OF MEEEEE!" Sophia screamed as another contraction gripped her. She pushed, and a teardrop shape appeared at her opening, though she herself could not see it. "There's the baby's head!" The doctor announced, then looked into Sophia's eyes. "I won't lie, it's going to hurt even more, no doubt, as the head crowns," he said to her. "You will likely feel a burning sensation, that is normal, and you just need to push through it, ok?" Sophia nodded, still whimpering. As the next contraction hit her, and she pushed, braced for the upsurge in pain, something happened. She felt the head slowly inch out of her, but instead of burning, she felt an almost orgasmic pleasure. She moaned loudly, and everyone in the room noticed that it was not a painful moan, but a pleasured one. "OH GOD YESSSS!" "AAAHHH YEEESSS!" Sophia cried as the baby's head emerged from her. "YES YES YES YEEESSSSS!" Sophia felt a pop and a gush of fluid as the head finally left her body, hanging out of her as it turned. She could still feel pain, but it was mixed with a pleasure she had never felt before, even when she was conceiving this baby 9 months ago. "One more push," the doctor said. "Only one more?" Sophia responded, disappointed. She felt the contraction and screamed out in ecstasy as she felt the baby leave her body in one final pleasurable sensation. It was a boy!

"So, what exactly happened to me?" Sophia asked, half an hour later after she had pushed out the afterbirth. "I've never heard of any woman in labor having an orgasm while they gave birth." "It's a rare thing," the doctor responded. "You were given a gift!" Sophia smiled. "I will definitely do it again!" She thought. She was going to give the baby up for adoption, and as she lay recovering on the birthing bed, her mind raced to a new idea. There were other couples out there ready to adopt. It would be her pleasure to provide more babies for that to happen!

(Your character rolled an 8 = single baby birth)