#not suggestive except scar makes a sex joke once

[dmwrites]

“So, okay, question.”

“Answer.”

Jimmy snorted. “Shut up.” He nudged Tango playfully, who proceeded to dramatically scream and topple off of the log they were sitting on top of. Jimmy shushed him while dying of laughter, pulling him back upright. “My goodness, and they’ve been calling me a drama queen.”

“I am the drama-est of all drama queens, emphasis on the drama.” Tango replied, dusting the sand off of his witch hat.

Jimmy looked to him and smiled, shaking his head. Between the hustle and bustle of Tango’s witch training and Jimmy’s law-upkeeping duties, they had found it hard to really spend some time together, just Team Rancher. But Scar had intervened, telling Jimmy he needed a “cute date night” and set up a small campfire area for them. Jimmy was still trying to figure out why Scar had told him to “have fun with the boot knocking” with copious winks.

“Anyway, I was going to ask a question.” Jimmy said.

“Right, yes, okay, I am listening.” Tango replied, even going so far as to put his face into his hands to look at him.

“You know, since you, and a bunch of the other double life guys came, it kind of brought back up some old memories, old questions I thought I’d never get to ask you about.”

Tango nodded. “Kinda weird to think about, some soulmates like Impulse and Bdubs and Grian and Scar, got to see each other after it was all over. I really did think I’d never see you again, buddy.”

“Same!” Jimmy said. “I mean, it just seemed like it was all done forever, until the next game, and it wouldn’t be the same like it was.”

“Well, I mean, to be fair, nothing will ever be the same as it was in double life ever again… that’s what makes the games so unique, I guess.” Tango said.

Jimmy was quiet for a moment, watching Tango’s face in the flickering firelight. He didn’t like that Tango said that. He didn’t like that Tango was right. A cowboy and an ice witch sat in friendly silence, the silence of two people who knew each other in a way that no one else ever would, because such a thing could never been replicated, much less brought back to full life. And of course, Jimmy had had a sinking feeling of it, when Tango said he was going to help fwip with his redstone and Shelby with her spells… time had held the ranchers in a strange limbo while in double life, but it, sadly, marches on, leaving the memories of golden summertime at the ranch just that: memories.

“I was wondering what you said. When it was all over. Like, when you, when we, died for the last time. Because we were apart, it was sudden. I said I was sorry, for the record. To you.” Jimmy said after a long silence. The nighttime and the fire, thankfully, made long silences more acceptable, and Tango didn’t seem to notice any kind of sad yearning in Jimmy’s demeanor.

Tango rubbed his chin with his hand, sighing. “You’re still here? It’s over. Go home. Go.” He chuckled quietly. “It’s an old movie quote, it kinda just popped into my head and I kept repeating it. It was funny, at the time, but the longer time went on the sadder it made me feel. Not even quite sure who I was talking to.”

“It’s over. Go home.” Jimmy repeated. There was another long silence, interrupted only by the crackles of the fire. They looked at one another, these two people from different worlds, brought together and torn apart by the strange cruelty of fate. “But what is home, really?”

“I don’t quite know, buddy.” Tango replied.

Jimmy turned away first, back towards the hypnotic movement of the flames. “I don’t know either.”

[green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle]

BLADE NSFW ALPHABET

My first time writing NSFW alphabet, enjoy. + 18 content under cut. Who should I do next?

GENERAL MASTERLIST

Aftercare

Blade is a bit awkward during aftercare, he is very touch deprived person and most people don't even dare to look him in the eye, afraid of his criminal record and mara. Still, he cares about your wellbeing so if you tell him to clean you up or bring you a glass of water he will do so immediately. He just needs to learn how to take care of somebody properly once again.

He will let you do whatever you want with his body tho, you can cuddle him (don't worry about his initial stiffness, he will relax if you massage his scalp), give him kisses, even braid his hair. He very rarely allows somebody to get into his inner circle but once you are there he is very lenient person overall. He got very distrustful and aloof with age, he is too tired to sleep around with people he doesn't have emotional connection to if he can just rub one off in need instead of being vulnerable in front of a stranger. To get anywhere close to his body you need to get through his defences first, and once you do he gets kinda soft for you.

You know how he allows Stellaron Hunters to use his phone, accepted Kafka's nickname for him, listens to Silver Wolf yapping about games etc.? Now you have that privilege to annoy him as well.

Body part

He feels very detached from his body, to the point of objectifying himself as a Blade. He doesn't like any part of his body in particular but he is entertained by your reaction to his chest. When you swoon over it, cuddle his boobs or suck on them he definitely is amused. Might even pat your head when you push your face in it.

On you he absolutely adores your face and all the cute expressions he can observe on it. He especially likes it when your eyes light up at his sight and when your gaze gets clouded with desire.

Cum

He doesn't mind making a mess at all, but if you prefer it inside of your holes he will do as you wish. He doesn't care much about that, he's not disgusted by yours or his bodily fluids with one exception. If it lands on your face anywhere besides your lips and chin he will wipe it down in a second, he doesn't want to feel like he disrespects you.

Dirty secret

So Blade is a very flexible, fit man...Once during jerking off he realised he can bend and lick the tip of his pretty long dick. He came instantly.

Experience

I believe his experience as Blade is limited to occasional quickie with Kafka, just to release some tension in between missions. I don't see them as proper lovers, more of a coworkers with occasional benefits, of course he respects her and cares about her but nothing else. Once he got committed to you he stopped sleeping with her. Kafka isn't bitter about that cause she has many options but if she finds you cute she might suggest threesome sometimes.

As Yingxing his situation was much more interesting. I don't necessarily see High Cloud Quintet as a polycule, but you can't convince me that him and Dan Heng didn't play around a bit, even now their fates are intertwined in special way and they reference each other. They just give divorced couple vibes, sorry not sorry. The way Blade refers to Baiheng so tenderly makes me believe he had a certain past with her as well, I ship her with Jingliu but I think Blade was in love with Baiheng at some point. His feeling were probably unreciprocated.

It's just my headcanon so don't cancel me pls.

Fav position

He likes it when you ride him, doesn't matter of it's his face, thigh or dick... He wants you to get yourself off on him in selfish way. When he gets on top he likes missionary cause he loves your lewd expressions so much.

Goofy

Blade takes intimate situations very siriously, it's not easy for him to show you his scars and he prefers to not joke around during sex. If he feels like it, he might tease you a little bit after it but that's it.

Hair

Just like in case of his beard, he takes good care of it. It's not completely shaved like his face but it's soft and clean.

Intimacy

For him to turn into your service switch you need to make him feel very safe and accepted, it makes him very vulnerable to give himself like that. It's important for him that you don't want to change him and appreciate him with all his scars. He can't be fixed and if you understand this and you don't mind - it's a very good beginning.

He might not be the most affectionate man out there but he will hold you like you are his greatest treasure, carress your hair and kiss your forehead so you feel safe in his arms.

Jack off

He doesn't get horny often if his sex partner isn't around to arouse him, after 800 years he doesn't see much appeal in jerking off. Still, he will do that to put himself to clear his mind and put himself to sleep faster. His hands are stiff and get tired fast so he masturbates by pounding into a fleshlight.

Kink

To me he is a switch (leaning sub) so I will split kinks into sub and dom. As a sub:

This man calls himself a Blade. It's easier to go through all the pain as a cold weapon without soul than as a shadow of his former self, genius who lost his ability to create and his main ambition. So he gave himself a new purpose, objectifying himself in the process of becoming his last masterpiece.

The thing about swords is they are meant to be used, directed by hand of their owner. Centuries of self-objectification messed with the way he perceives his body, also during sex. He wants to be used by you to please yourself and he needs to know he does good job as your toy. He has heavy praise kink, please tell him how great he feels and how he fulfills all your needs.

His extended life lost spark centuries ago, he craves intense sex to feel something. Blade has a high pain tolerance, he likes it rough. While he might be a bit skeptical towards typical tools used on masochists like whips or paddles, scratch his back really hard when he pounds into you and he will go crazy. He will mock you if you try to give him love bites but secretly will enjoy the sensation.

As a dom:

He is still obsessed with being used for your pleasure, but this time he takes matters into his own hands. He will figure out how to give you best sex of your life, even at the cost of overstimulating you. Trust me, he's very observant. He will use every trick known to him to fulfill you with his fingers, tongue and cock until there is not a single coherent thought left in your brain.

Sometimes he feels like this is not enough to ruin you properly. He will use toys to play with you even more, on a rare occasion he might think about threesome but he is very picky about who can touch you and he has one strict rule - nobody but him can slide into your tight hole. He will let Kafka satisfy you with her mouth and scissor/grind into you tho, if you are fine with it.

If you want to see the dominant side of him more often you just need to ask or to misbehave a bit, he is a natural brat-tamer. Loves to show you your place and fuck the attitude out of you, sight of submissive look in your teary eyes makes him very hard. Knowing he earned this look from you feeds his pride.

Location

He needs to feel safe and in control of his surroundings. Sorry, the only places he can unwind in are his room and his car. Don't worry, he made sure the backsits are extra comfortable and warmed up.

Motivation

In the past he used to have sex to get his mind off certain things from his past, but with a regular sex partner he will most likely be turned on by the thought of his body being the source of pleasure instead of pain for once. He wants to be nothing more but a weapon, tool of destruction, so why does he feel so proud when you let him know nobody could satisfy you like he can?

No

He will never ever approach you during his mara attacks, he can't bear the thought of hurting you. Fetishizing his condition in any way will result in getting kicked out of his life so no feral mara-struck beast Bladie for ya.

While I see him as a bit poly and I believe under certain circumstances he could rarely share you with Kafka, I also think he doesn't trust people so easily anymore, he is very protective about his closed social circle (it's literally just you and Stellaron Hunters) and he won't take it well if you suggest threesome with somebody whom he doesn't know very well or with one of his old friends from Quintet. His reaction depends on who do you suggest tho, if it's Jing Yuan you will receive cold shoulder for many nights but if it's Jingliu or Dan Heng - instant break up.

Oral

He wants you to ride his face and is proud of all the things he can do with his skilled mouth, especially in contrast to his long and beautiful but stiff fingers. He hollows his cheeks when he sucks on your clit/dick, looking you straight in the eye all the time and forgets to breathe when he french kisses your hole. Does he even need to breathe as an immortal?

When he receives head he likes the sounds you make the most, gagging on his length, salivating around it, kissing up his vein... Lick right under his foreskin and watch him lose control over his body.

Pace

He can go very fast and hard when he wants to fuck the brains out of both of you or he can go so gently it breaks your heart. Nothing in between. When it comes to your pace he wants you to do it however is the most comfortable for you.

Quickie

He would only indulge in them if he uses sex as a distraction, this elder prefers to take his time with you and take care of you thoroughly. He especially dislikes skipping foreplay, cause getting in the mood is very important to him.

Risk

With his fighting skills he could totally do risky stuff and come out of this with no trouble but to him sex is a time to relax and feel good, not to give himself more stress. He might do such things if you really, really want them, but it's not his style and he would rather not to be honest.

Stamina

His physical stamina is almost endless, with his self-healing and regenerating abilities he is capable of lasting for much longer than any mortal, but his emotional and mental exhaustion influences his stamina. If he gets overwhelmed at any point he will stop. Just hold him tightly and tell him it's alright. Otherwise he has no problem lasting for the whole night.

Toys

He will use toys on your nipples and clit to give you even more pleasure but no dildos or anything that could penetrate you cause that's his job and you don't need anything but him in your pretty holes.

Unfair

He teases you only if you have been a brat before. He doesn't like to deprive you of pleasure, that's not what he wants do to. But if you behave like you need to be tamed, for example smile a bit too much at another man, don't expect him to go easy on you. Once you've been too friendly during your trip on Astral Express and Blade edged you five times before you fainted.

Dont think you can tease him too much either, this man is very old and very patient when he gets petty. Just look at how long he holds on too grudges. He will tease you back and make you swallow all your words. You can't win this game with him.

Volume

Not a loud man, you can hear a few grunt here and there, quiet moan rarely and that's it. Let's just say he prefers to use his mouth differently in bed. It's not much but you know those sounds are genuine so you appreciate them. Also, who wouldn't get weak being praised in that husky voice of his?

Wild card

You surely heard of people having sex rooms in their places, but have you ever heard of making one in the car?

He lives in Stellaron Hunters headquaters and as much as you guys like to spend spicy time in his room, collection of toys you guys keep in there is nothing compared to the one he has in his car. He knows the rest of Hunters can hear you two so you need to keep quiet when you are at home, but in the garage you can moan his name as loud as you want to. He takes you out on dates in secluded spots like empty beaches or near the lake so you can enjoy each other's bodies while connecting with nature (but you guys stay in car during the do so he feels secure, comfortable and covered) . He lived in wilderness for years before joining Stellaron Hunters so if you encounter animals he will know how to behave.

Backsits are warmed up, they can be extended so you guys can lay down almost like in the bed, Blade carries you favourite blankets with himself. Locked up together with you toybox, so none of his coworkers can find those things when he gives them a ride.

How did he manage to get warmed up sits in such an old car? Well, this man was hella good at mechanics during his previous life as Yingxing. His memory and hands got worse but his brain is as sharp as it was when it comes to such things.

X - ray

Very long but not so thick, not overly prominent veins, very fragile head and base. His balls don't hang too much. Sorry, I never know what to write in this cathegory.

Yearning

He's an old guy, his libido went down with age to certain extent. He doesn't have the best relation with his body, doing physical things isn't something he does just for the sake of it.

He usually has sex for one of two reasons. To get stress out of his body and distract himself from his flashbacks or when he is deeply attracted to somebody and being in their company turns him on. Since he met you his libido woke up again after years and if you spend quality time with him on a daily basis you will have regular sex.

Sometimes he just wants to be left alone but it's not about you, he needs to deal with demons of his past on his own from time to time. There are nights when he just needs to be held, he will be grateful if you stay for him.

If you want to turn him on the easiest way to do this is first making sure he's relaxed and relatively in good mood at the moment, sometimes you can improve it with massages and hugs, sometimes you need to give him space. Then, sit or lay down very close to him, initiate a slow make out session and he will get hard in no time.

Tip: His ears and neck (especially on the back) are very fragile. Tease them well and see what happens.

Zzz

Blade needs a lot of sleep, you have to let that senior citizen rest his eyes in peace. He usually falls asleep surprisingly quickly, especially when he can smell your perfume and make sure you are safe and content, but he wakes up as soon as he hears anything suspicious, even if it's as quiet as leaf crushed under shoe. That makes him a great bodyguard. Also he can fall asleep while standing, with his eyes still open, holding onto his sword. He looks like a Halloween decoration when this happens.

There are nights when ghosts of the past and pain from mara won't let him sleep. He likes to watch over you on those nights, finding peace in slow rhythm of your breathing.

Face he makes when you sext him on his public cellphone:

[e-jaegerenthusiast]

aot boys kink hcs

here are some kink hcs i found written on a piece of paper during my super important class 🥴 fr i was sitting in class as my professor gives a lecture— instead of listening i zoned out and wrote different kinks/overall sexual things down and thought if eren, jean, and levi would be into them 🤞🏻

eren art by aidan.k_art on insta

levi cosplay _hakkencoser_ on insta

warnings/tw; like many many kinks 💀

would they let you choke them?

eren: yes. surprisingly, it’s the only dom-like thing he lets you do him. (other than ride him) he would love the thrill of his life in your hands :,) although it would take him a while to let you do it to him. he says it mid-sex, i’ve written something for it with eremika here ;)

jean: yes yes yes. he loves it so much, gets him whining and moaning

levi: i feel like he’s claustrophobic :( so he’ll let you put your hands around his neck, just don’t put in any pressure. the first time you did it was when you were riding him, you didn’t really think much of it as you put your hands around his neck, giving pressure with your fingers. suddenly his lust-filled droopy eyes turned into one of horror. pulling you off of him as he grabbed his own throat, coughing. you apologized so fucking much and hated yourself for it. he hugged you and told you it was okay, that he’s sorry but it brings him ptsd and makes him uneasy :(

choke you?

eren: surprisingly, no 😳 i feel like he would love to see his own purple fingerprints on your hips. however, he doesn’t like the bruises he leaves on your neck, he inspects them with a frown, kissing all of them and burying his head in your neck. once he chokes you, he feels animalistic. more than ever. its like he doesn’t trust himself to put your life that closely in his hands :(( so once he doesn’t do it anymore, you don’t ask him why. you know him. you know what goes on in his head.

jean: only if you ask him to, he’d be scared to apply too much pressure tho, so he’d do it lightly

levi: yesyesyes. i feel like levi would do all dom things to you mostly when he’s mad at something or at you. he’s the type to grab you by the neck and kiss you passionately. awooga

would they whine?

eren: very. very. very rare. only if somehow you’ve managed to take the upper hand.

jean: yessir. definitely. mommy kink all the way.

levi: mostly no. although he really really needs to. he wont let himself. mostly grunts. although he does when you’re sucking him off, he whimpers and tries to hide it, but you humming around his length throws him over the edge.

would they overstimulate you?

eren: all fuckinggg day. he doesn’t care if you can’t anymore. shaking? pffttt suck it up. literally

jean: only if he’s super horny. would do it if you want to.

levi: not really. he likes it when you overstimulate him 👀— doesn’t really ask you to, however you can obviously tell by the way he bucks up his hips into you or your hand even tho he just came.

their fave position?

eren: he absolutely loves spooning you, fucking into you as your warm back is pressed against his chest, your back arching and head going to his shoulder when he hits that special spot in you and kisses your neck. he can easily hit your g-spot in this postition, loves when you squirm against his chest. his hand holding you close. —he also loves the most weirdest positions omg- he likes bending you in ways that could almost break you like a pretzel - your thighs pressed against your chest, your legs at a wide angle resting on his shoulder—you must take yoga classes for this man he loves fucking you in the positions🥴 even upside down

jean: he loves loves loves when you ride him. he’s called a horse for a reason😩 also loves mirror sex. we know he can get cocky sometimes, so he loves fucking you infront of the mirror as he holds your jaw and forces your eyes on the mirror, fucking you hard. also is a sucker for passionate/slow missionary.

levi: doggy. fuck yes he loves it. or reverse cowgirl omf— loves the view sm. not that he doesn’t like to see your face in sex omg😭 it’s just- he prefers it that way cuz he kinda doesn’t want you to see him, in all his vulnerability. :,) its rare he lets you. but when he does omg- the image is burned into your memory, his face and the way it contorts into pleasure, his thin brows going up as his mouth is wide open— or he’s clenching his jaw.

would they agree to you handcuffing/tying them?

eren: no. he likes to be free LMAO i’m sorry

jean: yes. definitely. finds it so hot but still tugs on them so so much and begs you to untie him.

levi: won’t admit it but he loves it. eventually comes around. pounces on you like a wild dog when you untie him and fucks the shit out of you. grunting as he calls you a brat for tying him.

would they tie you up?

eren: 100% fucker loves to see you squirming.

jean: not really, he tries it out of curiosity but just doesn’t know what the fuck to do without your touch. likes it better the other way ‘round.

levi: yes. he would like to take revenge for you tying him up. would def torture and edge you a lot.

let you blindfold them?

eren: never. would like to see you and every single expression on your face.

jean: yes. loves it. makes him so so sensitive and he loves the thrill of not knowing where he’s gonna feel your touch.

levi: maybe. if you really beg him and annoy him for it.

blindfold you?

eren: yes yes yes do i even need to elaborate

jean: not really. same as tying you up, he would get too nervous and flustered and not know what to do.

levi: absolutely. he’d actually almost chuckle at how responsive you are to his touch. he’d literally just sit there for minutes, gliding his hands over all parts of your body, your arms, legs, thighs, stomach. loses sense of time as he plays with your body.

would they let you peg them?

eren: absolutely not. fucking scoffs and chuckles at you and mocks you when you suggest it.

jean: yes. with persuasion. he’s mostly open and experimental. would he end up liking it? maybe. he finds the feeling very weird at first, but asks you with a blush if you can do it again another time.

levi: no— thinks it’s disgusting.

anal?

eren: yes. yes. yes. would absolutely destroy you. loves the tight asf feeling.

jean: would try, doesn’t like it. makes him cum too fast 💀

levi: thinks it’s filthy.

breeding kink?

eren: yes. loves filling you up. doesn’t like baby talk tho— he hates kids 💀💀 is sorry but maybe eventually?

jean: likes to cum on your back, stomach, or tits more. however he loves the idea of having a family with you. definitely cums in you while baby talk + “you’d be such a good mommy.”

levi: he rarely cums in you, you’d have to beg him to or wrap your legs around his torso, then he can’t stop himself. doesn’t trust condoms or birth control. he’d say there’s still a chance of you getting pregnant 🥴— not that he doesn’t want a baby with you- not yet tho. he needs to warm up to the idea of becoming a dad. trauma n all yk.

jealous seggs?

eren: definitely. he’s possessive.

jean: definitely. he’s insecure :(

levi: yes but doesn’t admit it (surprise surprise) not a lot tho, he knows he has you wrapped around his finger. doesn’t really show his jealousy much. lets it eat away at him silently:/

lets you pull their hair?

eren: hell no. you do it anyway , he goes absolutely feral.

jean: yes. loves it so so much. also open to basically anything that makes you happy

levi: even tho he doesn’t like anyone touching his face or his hair, he warms up to it. likes the feeling of your hands in his hair. (also- mostly kiss his scars. he’ll actually cry. oop imma write a fic on that ✍🏻) he also loves loves loves when you shampoo his hair for him. gets him turned on. did y’all know thats an actual kink

would they spank you?

eren: definitely. more mid-fucking to see your reaction and the way you clench around him.

jean: likes to hold and squeeze your ass more as you ride him.

levi: oh fuck yeah. when you act like too much of a brat, he makes you go on all fours, or lay on your chest on his thighs, giving you spanks and making you count. talking to you after each spank, “will you be a brat again, huh?” spank, “you do it on purpose dont you? like to rile me up? hm? get me fucking mad like this?” another spank as he molds the flesh of your ass with his palm after each one, holding himself back from kissing the flesh.

face slapping?

already made drabbles for you slapping them

eren: yes yes yes. he would be a sucker for the innocent look in your eyes as tears swell up in them. he would do it repeatedly and keep bringing your jaw back to look at him after each slap.

jean: no, he doesn’t have it in his heart 🥺 would love if you did it to him.

levi: this is very difficult. i’ll leave it for you to decide between these two; 1. he doesn’t lay his hand on women. (spanking’s an exception in his book, other than that, hell no) 2. he only does it when he’s angry. like genuinely mad at you during sex, so that’s how he takes it out on you. but kisses you afterwards.

dacryphilia?

eren: hell yeah he loves when you cry for his cock, for him. this fucker does anything on purpose just to make you cry. gives a sadistic smile when tears finally come to your eyes.

jean: no, he wouldn’t wanna make you cry. although you do cry for his horse cock😩 he’d have a concerned expression on his face as he wipes you tears with his thumb, “what’s wrong ,baby?”

levi: absolutely not. literally despises crying. for himself and other. especially you. he’d wipe your tears as soon as they come when his dick is in your throat.

knife play?

eren: YES. he would purposely put a little pressure on the knife to scare you. this mfs a sadist. but he would be very careful to not hurt you. (if you ask why he would be into this but not choking you, it’s cuz with a knife, he knows he won’t actually fuckin stab you. he has control over the knife. his hands, he’s afraid not.) pain

jean: no omg— he would think you’re joking at first, his face forms the most horrid expression as he asks you if that’s an actual thing💀

levi: yes, he would never put pressure on the knife tho. he’d only glide it accross your body teasingly, the cold blade making you shiver under his touch as his eyes go dark. would like to do it to you when you’re blindfolded. doesn’t want you to see that dark look in his eyes.

blood play?

eren: yes. he likes to sometimes bite on your lower lip so hard it draws blood, he would keep kissing you, the iron-like taste not bothering him the slightest. it turns him on. also loves when you make him bleed by scratching your nails on his back, he throws his head back and fastens his thrusts 😩

jean: not really, my baby would get concerned— blood makes him uneasy 🥺

levi; absolutely not. too much ptsd and trauma from the sight of blood. doesn’t wanna see it painting your soft skin at all.

gun play?

eren: not really, he’s too violent to be handling a gun in sex.

jean: no—

levi: yes. he’d empty the gun beforehand tho, without you knowing.

candle wax 😳

eren: not really, he doesn’t like the redness it brings to your skin afterwards.

jean: likes if you do it on him, fucking loses it. he actually cries and whimpers, making you concerned but he nods his had swiftly, urging you to continue. likes the burn, reminds him of your touch, it’s not really any different from the burns your fingertips leave on him upon your touch.

levi: yes omfg- he loves it. he would also blindfold you for this one, probably tie you up too. loves to see you squirming in this situation. (omg i read this one fic on wattpad called “submit” and he was using candle wax and ice— AWOOGA)

ice play?

eren: yes yes yes, he’d run the ice down your stomach after rolling it on your nipples with his hands, he’d put it on your clit and chuckle as you squirm from the coldness of it. goes down on you to warm you up with his tongue afterwards.

jean: he likes it when you use it on him. holding the ice between your teeth as you run it over his nipples and down his chest. he’d be squirming and moaning.

levi: fuck yes. he’d put it in his mouth and kiss you with it, the ice melting between both of your tongues as he hums in your mouth. he’d also run it down your stomach and your nipples as he holds it in his mouth. the contrast of the cold ice and his warm tongue making you moan and whimper beneath him.

podophilia (foot fetish) dont read that as pedophilia uhm💀

eren: not really no, never crosses his mind.

jean: yes yes yes. omg absolutely this man having a foot fetish is canon to me😩 he’d love you giving him a foot job omf- would whine so much. also would kinda like licking your anckles and your toes as you giggle

levi: uhm. you must already know this clean freak. he thinks it’s fucking disgusting. i agree with him

ear fetish

eren: he likes it when you nibble on it or bite the shell of his ear. absolutely his weakest and sensitive spot

jean: not really idk why but no

levi: would nibble and tug on your ear as he’s fucking you, head burried in your neck as he pants and grunts.

food play?

eren: would loved to drizzle honey or whipped cream on you and lick it off your chest or stomach.

jean: would love for you too do it to him, with whipped cream or chocolate on his abs and chest, even his neck. he’d be a moaning, panting mess.

levi: does not like to involve food with sex 💀

chastity (holding back from sex to rile themselves or you up)

eren: hell no💀 he’s an impatient fuckin bastard. cannot handle going without fucking you for more than a couple days

jean: would love for you to do it to him. would beg you and plead as his cock throbs for days, though you know he likes it when you don’t give it to him instantly.

levi: yes yes yes. he would make himself go without sex for weeks. you have to beg him to stop and just let you fuck him, but he’d mutter sum about needing to “train his own stamina and self control, and your patience, brat.” but when you do break through him, trying to seduce him after weeks, it would be some of the best sex y’all have. going for rounds on rounds.

voyeurism

eren: as much as i love the “eren watching you fuck jean/reiner”— i think his possessive self will never ever let another man touch you. i mean cmon have u even read 139 🥲

jean: dont do that to him 🥺 he’s gonna be super insecure like omg- no

levi: absolutely not. do not test this man. he might not show his jealousy openly but you are his and only his.

role playing?

eren: i feel like he’s not that into it but he’d do it, he’s very picky so hmm maybe good cop and bad cop? 👀

jean: as i mentioned before, he’s very experimental and would do almost anything you ask of him, so yes. he’d be into doctor/patient ;) he likes it more when you’re the doctor but you can switch too oh my god bye now i’m thinking about jean in a white thingy doctors wear omf

levi: only captain/subordinate 😩😩😩

daddy kink

eren: not really, it makes him think about being an actual dad which turns him off 💀 sorry to crush yalls dreams 🤞🏻

jean: as i said, mommy kink. though he would like it if you addressed him as daddy while he takes control.

levi: no💀 finds it fucking weird. lowkey makes him sad n think about his dad and who he is or where he is he like being called captain sometimes tho ;)

degrading?

eren: fuck yes likes degrading you all the way. “look at you, my little slut.” “such a whore for my cock hm?”

jean: would like to be degraded 😁

levi: would keep it on the minimum— occasional “brat”s or “dumbass” jdjsjs nothing too intense. he has a way with his words :)

somnophilia sneaked this in at 200 when i forgot to add it cuz it’s my absolute fave kink

eren: he’d play with your body for minutes on minutes, loves to see you so responsive to his touch even in your sleep. he rubs slow circles on your clit, to get you wet. raises his brows when he notices you’re already soaked in your sleep. he literally fucks you awake. shoves his length in you balls deep as you scream and wake up— hitting his chest as he chuckles at you

jean: you’d both be asleep, until you wake up to the feeling of jean humping your thigh, whimpering in his slumber softly, you smirk. he’s chasing his high in his dream, mumbling your name as it’s barely recognizable. he wakes up to your mouth wrapped around him, cumming so fast as soon as he realizes he’s awake.

levi: he barely gets any sleep. but as he’s laying down next to you, head buried in his book while you’re stuck to him like a koala, he’s content. having one arm wrapped around your body and hand stopping at your waist. he’s brought out of the focus of his book by you moving against him. at first he thinks you’re waking up for some reason, then is proved wrong when you’re repeatedly grinding against his thigh, your leg wrapped around it. he chuckles, catching himself off guard. he watches as you hum in your sleep and say his name. he starts slowly meeting your grinds against his thigh, shaking it. he’s now rock hard in his shorts, teasing your hole through your panties with the hands on your back. you end up cumming in your sleep, he cums in his pants. fuck.

••••••••••

© all content belongs to e-jaegerenthusiast, do not repost or copy any of my work

and there we have it— sorry if i left anything out- these are all the kinks i could think of for now 🥴

also ik i usually write hcs for aot and jjk boys but with this one, i kinda felt like only doing aot. since the paper i found had these 3 boys written on it 🤪

[shinsouskitten]

Shinsou Hitoshi nsfw alphabet

damn kat back at it again with the thirst i hate myself 

Idk how I haven’t done a nsfw alphabet for my KING yet but I’m disappointed in myself for it

this post was mostly finished before the whole ‘this cold makes me feel like im dying’ thing so i just had to add a few and it was ready for publishing (bonus points if you can tell which ones were added in my cold-induced craziness)

Warnings: you know it, you love it, the thirsting of a lonely writer

---

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Shinsou is a king when it comes to aftercare. Hot baths, massages, cuddles, you name it. You mean the absolute world to him, and he’ll go out of his way to show that, both in and out of the bedroom

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

Shinsou can be pretty self critical, but if you pushed for an answer he’d probably say his hair, cause he knows how much you like it. For his partner, horny Shinsou would immediately go for your neck (literally too). He loves how a single kiss can turn you into putty in his hands, and he’ll leave marks in places he knows you can’t hide just to prove to the world that you’re his

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Inside you, on you, he doesn’t really mind. Whatever you prefer, he’s happy with. If you want to get messy, he’s more than happy to help, but if not he’ll keep you clean (ish). Although he’s unlikely to admit it, seeing you swallow his cum ignites a fire in Shinsou, and sets up quite a few more rounds so he can give you a reward for being so good

D = Dirty secret (pretty clear, a dirty secret of theirs)

Shinsou’s pretty open with what he wants, but when you first start getting intimate there’ll be a few things he doesn’t really want to say in case he scares you away (he could never, but he still worries). He wants to experiment, but he makes sure he knows your boundaries before he suggests anything too out there. The thing he keeps secret for the longest is the desire to wrap your neck in a beautiful collar emblazoned with his name, simply cause he doesn’t want you to think it’s weird

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He does his research, but hands on experience is pretty limited before you. It’s a learning curve, both of you learning what makes the other tick, what causes you the highest amount of pleasure, and what to steer clear of

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Loves to see you ride him. It gives you the power to control the tempo, but also gives him a beautiful view to tip him over the edge of ecstasy. More needy Shinsou (aka when he’s in hornball mode) likes doggy style, cause it means he can pull your hair or hold you up against him and kiss your neck

G = Goofy (how serious are they in the moment?)

He’s not going to whip out a joke book in the middle of sex, but he’s also not going to act like an uptight secretary who’s only able to follow the rules (well, not unless you ask 👀) 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Keeps himself trimmed, possibly even shaved. It’s no nonsense and means it’s also more enjoyable for you if you’re giving him head

I = Intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment?)

He’s an intimate guy, but he’s also not above teasing (though there’s another letter for that so I’ll keep on intimate for now). Like I mentioned in B, Shinsou can be pretty self critical, and sometimes he can get scared that you’ll leave him if he doesn’t prove how much he loves you, which to him means intimate sex and reassurance (aka, saying ‘I love you’ every two seconds)

J = Jack off (what are their views on masturbation?)

He does it when needed. He’s not insanely horny, so chances are if he is you’re there to deal with him. But if you’re not, and he’s especially needy, he’ll most likely call you up for a little phone session. The thought of you is incredible, but being able to see and hear you is even better

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think we all know the phrase kitty, right? Well inference leads me to believe that Shinsou would be down for trying out pet play. And yes, as I mentioned before, he would 100% have a collar for you with his name on it. I don’t take criticism for that one

L = Location (favorite places to do the dance with no pants)

More traditional. Sex between the two of you means intimacy, so he’d prefer privacy. You have yet to find a surface in your house he hasn’t tried to fuck you on. That being said, your comfort is of the utmost importance to Shinsou, so if he’s going to fuck you over the kitchen counter, he’s going to make sure you feel comfortable while he does it. So yes, that means he’ll take pillows off the sofa’s just to make you comfy

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going, etc)

You. Simple as. There are certain things that especially turn him on, such as you biting your lip or being extra attentive to him in what would seem like a normal scene to anyone else watching. Put your hand on his thigh when out at dinner and pay the price when you get home. Or maybe that was your plan all along

N = No (turn offs, something they wouldn’t do)

Shinsou never wants you to be in pain (well not unless you want to be in pain). He’ll leave hickies all over you, but that’s about as far as he’ll go with marking you. Maybe a spank here and there, but he won’t scar you or leave any marks that won’t be gone in a few days

O = Oral (do they prefer giving or receiving? how skilled are they?)

Shinsou prefers giving, but he’ll never say no to receiving either. He wants you to feel good, but if you decide to turn the tables he’s not going to deny you. Once you’re finished though, he’s repaying the favor tenfold. And just as a note, pull his hair when he goes down on you. He adores it

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Yes and yes. It all depends on the situation, his mood, the usual things. He’ll do whatever provides you with the most pleasure (while also allowing him to tease you)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies)

He doesn’t love them, but if they’re the only way to get some gratification then he’s willing (only if you are though). He’s careful about location, he doesn’t want someone walking in and ruining the whole thing, even if the risk of being caught makes everything a little more exciting. Chances are he won’t engage in quickies unless he’s been to the place at least once before (he wants to know which wall you’d look best pinned to). He has to feel slightly comfortable in the environment

R = Risk (how risky are they willing to be?)

He’s down for a little risk, but nothing that would be too mortifying for you. If he’s going to screw you somewhere other than your home, he’s going to vet the place over a lot, and find the best place where you have the comfort of being private but the thrill of being caught if someone were to venture too close to your hideout

S = Stamina (how long do they last? how many rounds?)

Freaking hell where does he get it from? Like, he just doesn’t stop. Not that that’s a bad thing, mind you. Most of the rounds consist of him pleasing you, and he’ll only give in and finally fuck you when your throat is hoarse from begging, or when he feels the smallest amount of pity at the tears rolling down your face (did someone say crying kink)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them on a partner or themselves?)

Vibrating panties. I said he doesn't physically act on desires when in public, but touching a remote isn’t the same thing as touching you, so he makes an exception. He’s not insanely cruel. For him it’s more about teasing that mortification, so if someone senses something’s wrong, he turns off the remote until they give up. But the moment they’re gone, it’s back stronger than ever

U = Unfair (how much do they tease?)

*roblox oof sound effect*

Once Shinsou gains his confidence with you, he’s not going back. His teasing is often coupled with praise, telling you how good you’re being for him while he denies you pure bliss again and again. He’ll edge you to hell and back if you give him the chance, but don’t worry, it’s worth it in the end

V = Volume (how they sound, how loud they are, etc)

Small moans and louder grunts are the main sounds coming from Shinsou when he’s enjoying himself. He swears a lot, and it’s always easy to tell how close he is to the edge by how creative his swears become. As for his partner, he wants to know how well he’s doing. He wants to hear you whine and beg while he edges you, and the pornstar-like moans that fill the air when he finally gives in and gives you what you really want

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

You think I forgot about his quirk. Ha, I could never. I said in my hcs that it takes a while for Shinsou to integrate quirk use into sex. As much as you assure him you’re in full trust, he’s anxious about the inability to say no when he has you under his control. The longer you’re together the more willing he is, but even when he does use it it’s usually a way to make edging even more dangerous, with you unable to resist his words when he tells you you’re not allowed to cum just yet

Okay maybe we have 2 wild cards this time cause I also wanna mention his capture weapon. Again, it’ll take a while for it to be available in a less-than-pg manner, but he’s more willing to use his capture weapon than his quirk. Main reason being, you can still use a safeword when tied up. But tying up goes both ways, so even if he prefers to be the one giving the pleasure, he’d never deny your wishes

X = X-ray (let’s have a looksee in those pants)

I’m trying not to be biased cause I love him so much but I feel like Shinsou’s kinda packing. A good 8.5-9 inches (no, I won’t take criticism) and on the skinnier side. But the amount of attention he gives you before his pants are even off means taking him is never difficult

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not the highest, but when you’re around it increases significantly. He’s not going to fuck you every time he sees you (I mean, he thinks about it) but he also isn’t a nun. It’s a good level, cause most days you can walk, and then on the weekends you’re a little bedridden

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s a bit of an insomniac, so screwing the energy out of him is one of the best ways to get Shinsou tired enough to sleep. He likes to hold you, so once he’s satisfied with the aftercare, he’ll crawl in bed for cuddles until the both of you pass out

[claymorecut]

YOU KNOW IT’S TRUE LOVE WHEN YOU CAN’T STOP LOVING YOUR WIFE EVEN WHEN SHE GROWS A PAIR OF KINTAMA

A GinTsu fanfic

Word Count: 8072

A/N: This fic is long. And messy. And I wanted to write this for a really long time. Hope you guys enjoy! <3

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

‘Huh? When did I get here..?’

Standing under the scorching afternoon sun, this is the first thought that crosses the silver-haired samurai’s mind. The familiar crossroad bustled with people as Gintoki scrunches his eyes and shields them from the blinding sunlight. Not long ago was he lying on his precious couch in his cozy little apartment, so how come is he now standing on the middle of Yoshiwara? Oh yes, he was already on his way to pay his busy wifey a visit.

‘Must be the heat, I might’ve lost track of when I reached here.’ Rubbing his eyes which seems to itch a little, the man decided to make his way towards the infamous tea-house. It has been months since he last visited Yoshiwara but the true reason he’s here today is because he wants to see his wife. For the last few weeks, Tsukuyo has been coming home late due to work and to his disappointment - and sure enough, hers as well - they hardly get the chance to spend time together.

Of course, like always, Gintoki stays the same, good, supportive husband who doesn’t constantly nag his wife about her workaholic nature and busy schedule but right now, perhaps, he has started to feel a little lonely. And as cheesy as it sounds in his thirty-five years old mind, Gintoki really misses her. Not just the sex or the long, passionate kisses, but he really misses spending quality time with her. Seriously, when was the last time the two sat down and read their favorite manga series together? More importantly, their second anniversary is only a few dates away and this time, he wants to surprise her with something special. Something that can help the Tsukuyo take a break from her job and relax.

The former city of night appears as same as ever with people busy with their daily work. A few Hyakka members patrolled the streets, in case of any transgression. However, far away in front of another tea house, Gintoki catches a small crowd of woman swarming a large, tanned man, most likely flirting with him while he seems to be going along with them playful pokes and giggles. Due to his back facing him, he can’t get a clear look on the unfamiliar man except for his wide back and blond hair which perfectly contrasted his bronze skin. No wonder so many women were flocking around him, he appears to be quite a good-looking man.

“Oh Gin-san, how have you been?” The delighted owner of the tea house was greets him as he walks inside.

“Usual, I guess.” The man simply replied and takes a seat on one of the benches, facing her. “I just saw this guy outside. You guys hired a new bodyguard?”

At his curious question, Hinowa gives him a confused look. “No. We haven’t had new recruits for quite some time now.”

“Oh.”

“So, Gin-san.” Hinowa asks, changing the subject. “What brings you here?”

While Hinowa gives him her signature smile, Gintoki finds the situation quite odd. Wouldn’t a teasing “Here to see Tsukuyo~” with her playful smirk have made more sense?

‘Perhaps, she’s gotten used to it.’ His mind reasoned back as he brushed off the thought.

“Uh…well, I was basically here to meet Tsukuyo but I was thinking of taking her on a trip for our anniversary.” Looking down, he nervously rubs the back of his neck. He may have been a married man now but even still, showing his rather romantic side of his in front of anyone except Tsukuyo makes him a little…flustered.

“You know how she is with her ‘I don’t want anythin’’ and stuff. That woman has been working constantly for ages and she really needs to get some rest! I never thought choosing a gift for a woman would be this tough, let alone surprising her but it’s her we’re talking about after all….So, I thought maybe you can suggest me something.”

After finishing up his chattering, Gintoki looks back up at her with a flushed face, only to find Hinowa confusedly blinking at him. “…Eh? Anniversary?”

The man knits his brows. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”

“Forgot what?”

“My and Tsukuyo’s anniversary.”

“But when did you get marri-“

“What’s goin’ on?” A deep and surprisingly familiar voice came from behind the silver-haired man.

“Oh, Tsukuo. Did you know Gin-san got married? He just told me.”

“What? When?”

“I don’t know…maybe he’s talking about someone else…”

This casual exchange of words sounded strange. But what sounded stranger is the name of the man who is talking with Hinowa. Who is now standing right beside him. Perplexed at this sudden change of events, Gintoki slowly turns to his side to find the very same tanned and muscular man he has seen before entering the tea house standing who now looked at him and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Yo, Mr. Husband. Did ya forget to invite us or what?” The man named Tsukuo teases him.

And Gintoki felt all the blood drain off his face.

He knew something was off. Really off. And as he got the closer look of the man’s face, the more he finds himself horrified. “W-who are you?”

The large man quirked one of his brows and then looks back at Hinowa, directing his thumb at Gintoki. “Is he okay?”

“He looked fine before. Gin-san, you look pale. Are you okay?”

No. No, he isn’t. Because this doesn’t look right. And no matter how much he tries, his brain has now failed to process the entire situation as Gintoki finds his eyes fixated at the buff man who looks shockingly familiar. Blond hair, violet eyes, the familiar black kimono decorated with autumn leaves and the infamous scar that he has gotten accustomed to kissing - Gintoki has been seeing all these features for years now.

In his wife.

Pointing a shaky finger at the large man, Gintoki felt his voice turn into a mere, almost squeaky, whimper “Hinowa-san….what happened to my Tsukuyo?” He could no longer contain the shock and disbelief in his voice. No way is this happening!

“Tsukuyo?” At this, the raven-haired woman looks puzzled. “But that’s Tsukuo.”

“I-I know..but…did some strange light fell from the sky and changed her sex? Like how it happened last time in the Dekobokko arc?” Each syllable he stutters makes his heart race a little faster. “What happened to Tsukuyo?”

“….Gin-san, what’re talking about? There’s no one named Tsukuyo here.”

His mouth falls agape. “Hinowa-san, please don’t joke like this.”

“But….I’m not joking, Gin-san….”

“Then…you’re saying my wife…is now…a man..?”

Suddenly he feels a large hand on his shoulder, probing him to look at the other direction which he was so badly trying to avoid. “Are ya outta your mind, ya bastard?” His said wife says up loudly, sounding quite offended by his genuine question. “I’ve always been a man.”

.

..

…

‘WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?’

*****

“Of course Tsukuo-dono has always been a man.”

“Who doesn’t know about the King of Night in Edo, Danna?”

“Gin-san~ Why are you suddenly so interested in that bastard when I’m right here~”

“Oi, Sarutobi. I’m right here - By the way, why’re you asking around if Tsukuo has always been a guy or not? Did you lose your memories or something?”

Nobody remembers. Nobody.

For the last three hours, Gintoki has been running around the city of Edo after dashing out of Yoshiwara, just so he can find out whether the unearthly Dekobokko cultist have made their comeback or not.  Unfortunately, nothing of that sort has happened. In fact, after asking Kyubei, Saachan and the Shinsengumi who once turned into the opposite gender knows nothing this uncanny event of his wife turning into the male version of her. Actually, his wife never swapped genders even when they did.

And every time he frantically asked the same damn question, their responses also stayed the same - “But Tsukuo has always been a man. We don’t know anyone named Tsukuyo.”

The statement itself is like a tight slap on his face. But what hurts more is that she is no longer here. Nobody remembers their marriage and…nobody remembers her.

His ring is gone.

All the wedding pictures and albums he once had in their little house are all missing.

And now that he looks at the empty shelf where they once had a beautiful framed picture of them kissing on their wedding day, Gintoki slumps down on the floor as he ponders about this absurdity he is currently in. Wasn’t it just this morning when he saw his wife leave for work before giving him a quick peck on his lips? Wasn’t it just a few hours ago when was planning to surprise his wife on their second anniversary? But now it feels like he is in a completely different world. And suddenly he is back to the same ol’ single and unmarried Sakata Gintoki who no longer has the amazing badass blond bombshell of a wife by his side.

In this sorry state, Gintoki recalls a memory from the morning where his favorite weather girl, Ketsuno Ana was announcing today’s horoscope predictions.

“For Libras, today, you may find yourself in an uncanny situation. Perhaps, your love life will be tested today under very confusing conditions but let me tell you, do not give up hope. As long as you believe in yourself and your partner, everything will turn out just fine.” The woman gave a bright smile from behind the screen as he flicked the TV off.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?” The utterly confused and enraged man yelled at the ceiling without paying any attention to what his neighbors are going to think. Confusing!? No, this is a hellish situation! “OI WRITER! WHY WON’T YOU JUST LET ME LIVE AS A HAPPILY MARRIED MAN!?”

Even breaking the fourth wall didn’t work. Finding himself alone in the bland living room, Gintoki hopelessly looks down on the floor and then at his empty left ring finger, gently rubbing it. He is not a sappy man, never has been, but truthfully, the empty finger does not suit him anymore.

The day he found out Tsukuyo had been in love with him throughout the runtime of the series was the day realized how much of lucky bastard he has been to have someone like her in his life. Idiot he might have been for not acting on his feeling but the day he took his vows was day he promised he will not let go of her. Ever.

‘Then why the hell is this going on…?’

A knock on his door interrupts Gintoki and he lets out a heavy sigh. If it was any other day, he would definitely have answered the door. But right now, ignoring it seems like a better option. Must be the baba is what he thinks and then stands up from his place to go look for some strawberry milk in the fridge. Maybe that can help him cool down…even just a little. Another two knocks, this time louder, tries to get his attention but he chooses not to respond again. No way is he in the mood to have a chat with someone.

“Oi Gintoki! I know you’re in there!” A voice calls out for him. A very familiar voice that he just wants to…avoid right now.

However, his mission fails instantly when another knock comes in, making him rub his already throbbing temple.

Groaning, Gintoki turns the other way to greet the unwanted guest in his house. Well, technically that was her- oh sorry, his house too, but according to the current situation, calling him a guest seems more appropriate. Sliding the main door open - and deep down, wishing it’s Tsukuyo standing there – he finds the male version of his wife nonchalantly smoking from the signature kiseru with his muscular arms folded under his well-toned chest. His blond hair is now tied in a small ponytail and damn, he is a few inches taller than him.

“Why did ya run away like that?” Tsukuo asks, putting down his kiseru. And while he refuses to admit, Gintoki can clearly hear the concern in his voice which seems so…familiar. But this isn’t her.

“Just had something to do.” Shrugging, Gintoki tiredly looks at the man. “I don’t know what I was saying, sorry about that.” He lies, really not in the mood to explain whatever this is. And possibly, this man will not believe him.

“Okaaay.” Tsukuo trails off, confused at his dismissive behavior. “You okay now? You seemed a little off back in Yoshiwara.”

Oh, can he just stop resembling her so much!?

“Yeah. Can you just leave me alone? I’m gonna get some sleep now, my head hurts” He knows he is being an ass but this is for the better. Tiredly, he slides the door close only to find a tight grip on the doorframe and shoves it open again.

“Hey. What’s wrong with you?” Tsukuo asks, slightly annoyed as he bends a little forward to look into the silver-haired man’s eyes. “First you act like you’ve seen a ghost and now you’re actin’ like an asshole?”

Hearing this, a vain pops in his head. He really can’t catch a break, can he? First, he sees his wife turn into this extremely handsome and muscular man who has lost all memories of their marriage and now, he’s supposed to explain why he is acting like this like a madman!?

“So, how else am I supposed to act, huh!? Act like everything’s normal when it’s actually NOT!?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean!?” Tsukuo snaps back, confused at his sudden outburst. “Isn’t this normal, you moron!?”

“Oh yeah!?” Gintoki grits his teeth, feeling fumes coming out of his ears. “Maybe it would have if my married life hadn’t been suddenly erased from existence!”

“And when the hell did you get married!?”

“ ALMOST TWO YEARS AGO ON 21ST JUNE, AT THE END OF SPRING!” Gintoki screams out, making the passerbys look above at the two men who are now engaged in a heated argument.

“What the-!?”

Scoffing loudly, Gintoki throws his hands up in the air in utter defeat. “See! This is what I’m talking about! A few hours ago, I was a happily married man, planning to surprise my wifey for our second marriage anniversary and suddenly, I see everything is gone! Poof! Vanished in thin air like it NEVER existed!! And the worst part- nobody remembers my marriage, NOT EVEN YOU!”

Tsukuo only returns him another puzzled look. “And how the hell would I remember that!?”

“Because you’re the one I’m married to, damn it!” Frustrated, Gintoki jabs his pointer at the man’s well-built chest, only to realize what just he said and immediately rephrases his statement to, “Or should  I say the female version of you.” and awkwardly pulls back his hand. “And now, suddenly she looks like Arnold Schwarzenegger and I’ve no fucking idea how or when it happened! I don’t even have any evidence to prove myself in this…this crazy situation and damn it, this all sounds so ridiculous!”

Silence follows and the two men stare at each other, one giving an extremely baffled look while the other groans in embarrassment. This is not going anywhere.

Covering his face his hands, Gintoki breaths out a long, exhausted sigh. “Listen, I think I need to clear my head. Can you just…go?”

The man doesn’t reply for another few seconds. Perhaps, he’ll just leave him alone now.

“….I’m not going anywhere.”

Gintoki’s ears perk up. Did he really just..?

“And I think it’s better if we talk properly.”

Finally, he looks back at the man’s earnest face. “Eh?”

“Let’s get outside.” His said wife suggests and turns to walk down the stairs. “I think you should tell me what exactly happened. Maybe that can help you clear your head.”

“You believe me?” Gintoki calls out, baffled at how serious he sounds.

“Not completely.” Tsukuo looks back as he steps down the last stair. “But I do know you’re not lying.”

*****

Tsukuo is popular, just like his wife. Very popular.

But fun fact, unlike Tsukuyo, who makes every other lecher look the other way with her intimidating glares, Tsukuo doesn’t seem to mind all these flirtatious wink and compliments that keeps coming at him from the opposite gender.

“You seem to have quite a huge fanbase in Edo.” Gintoki inquires. The two has been walking down the streets of Kabukichou for quite a few minutes now and the extra attention the tanned man keeps garnering is making the silver-haired samurai a little distressed.

“Well, can you blame them?” Tsukuo looks at him, smirking proudly.

“No.” Gintoki shrugs, glancing at another group of women eying Tsukuo, who literally has the body and face of a Greek god. “But I never thought you’d enjoy so much attention.”

“I don’t exactly.” The man casually replies. “But when someone wants to talk and spend time with me, I can’t just say no to them.”

“And you just said the typical playboy line. How convenient.” Gintoki mumbles, not audible enough for the man beside him to hear. He remembers the first time when he met this version of Tsukuyo back in chapter 441 in the Dekkobokko arc. To watch the serious, tsundere woman suddenly turn into a player who shamelessly flirted with his female version was such a shocker.

“Flowers have no beauty nor ugliness. If such a thing does exist, then it’s in the looks of a man that cannot admire both equally.”

“HEY, WHO IS THIS GUY!? A VIRGIN WOMAN SUDDENLY TURNED INTO A PLAYER!!!”

Gintoki lets out a sigh. Even though back then such a thing happened, the situation was, more or less, temporary. Tsukuyo’s sudden personality change was only limited to that one arc. However, from what he has come to understand here, this Tsukuo has always been…Tsukuo. Sneaking a glance at the man, he again finds him smile at another woman on the sideways who flushes bright red and shyly hides her face behind her palms.

‘Yup, this is not Tsukuyo…’

After another few minutes of silence, Tsukuo asks. “So, you were saying I’m your wife?”

“No. I’m saying my wife got replaced by you.” Gintoki replies bluntly.

Unnoticed, the man rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Do you remember what exactly happened?”

“What do you mean what exactly happened? I was on my way to meet my wife, but then I see you and suddenly everybody has forgotten about Tsukuyo and our marriage.”

“Yeah, you already said that. But I’m asking did something happen when you were on your way?”

Gintoki knits his eyebrows. “…Huh?”

“Did you meet any…shady fortune teller on your way?” Tsukuo inquires seriously, glancing at him.

“Umm..nope.” Comes his honest answer.

“Then did you inhale or drink something strange before?”

“Nooo….”

“Then what about the headaches you were getting?”

“Most probably because of stress. What about it?”

Tsukuo shrugs. “I don’t know. I thought maybe it’s some sort of a side-effect of some ‘magic spell’ you’ve been put into?”

“This doesn’t make any sense, you know.” Gintoki scowls at his absurd speculations.

“Well, this is Gintama. Remember when the animation staff decided to freeze you for an entire episode due to budget issues?” Tsukuo points casually.

“Yeah, I do remember tha-“

“Plus, this is a poorly written fanfi-“

“Please don’t mention the obvious to our readers so casually. It can ruin their reading experience.”

Tsukuo sighs. “So, nothing out of ordinary happened?”

“No.” Except for his horoscope coming true which he cannot tell him.

“Tsk. That’s a very cheap way to move the plot though.”

“Would you stop being fussy about the plot already?”

“I was just pointing out the errors.” Tsukuo says as a matter of fact.

“You’re starting to sound like Onishi-kun now.”

Tsukuo grumbles. “Fine, I’ll stop.”

“Good.”

Even like this, the nitpicky and logical side of her is still clearly there. And a part of him feels happy that it is there. As the two continue to stroll around the streets of Edo, Gintoki finds his lips curl upward for the first time in the last few hours, unaware of the blond man looking at him with him own small smile.

*****

The afternoon heat is now replaced by the breezy evening evening as the two make their way to a public park.  Gintoki has no idea why they are still hanging out together. Or why Tsukuo still hasn’t left for work? Or why they are suddenly in a park and why does it feel like a date? Well, obviously he does not mind spending time with him – it’s actually quite refreshing – but still, Tsukuyo has always been a busy woman, a workaholic who doesn’t leave her duties behind, so, shouldn’t Tsukuo be like that too?

“Why’re we here?” Gintoki asks as he watches Tsukuo taking a seat on a nearby bench and stretches out.

Tsukuo, to his question, gives him a blank stare. “Because I’m tired of walking.”

“You aren’t even wearing any heels!” Gintoki frowns, pointing at his zori. “Tsukuyo can jump twenty buildings on her four-inch heeled leather boots and won’t even beat a sweat.”

Listening to his sudden proud comment about his wife, Tsukuo gives an amused smile. “Oh, that sounds interesting. That’s what I expect from the female me.” He gives himself a few pats on his shoulders.

Gintoki scoffs at his prideful gesture. “You’ve no idea how she’s like.”

Scooting a little to the side, Tsukuo taps on the empty seat right to him. “Wanna tell me how she’s like then?”

There is a moment of silence between the two before Gintoki walks towards the bench. “Oh, she’s just…amazing.” Taking a seat beside him, he grins widely, suddenly at a loss of words to describe his wife. “Sometimes even I end up thinking how I landed a woman like her.”

“You sound like a love-sick puppy.” Tsukuo chortles lightly.

“Well, I am a lucky man.” Gintoki shrugs, surprisingly unabashed by Tsukuo’s previous remark. There is a familiar sense of security in his company even though the man is the very much different from the woman he has fallen for.

“Well, you did marry me. Of course, that makes you a lucky man.”

His cocky response made Gintoki scoff in dismay. The moment he was starting to think they were a little alike, Tsukuo once again made him rethink his words.

“I didn’t marry a smug bastard. She’s the complete opposite of you.” Gintoki proudly replies, ready to explain his point. “Beautiful, serious, workaholic and definitely not a flirt - that woman can kill a lecher just by looking at him her venomous stare. And she’s called the Shinigami Tayuu in Yoshiwara. Well, formally, but you get how scary she is by that name. Hell, even I once became a victim of her wrath for ‘accidentally’ groping her before we started going out. Fortunately, she didn’t kill me then….”

Memories of the time flash in his mind as a soft chuckle escapes his lips. “Actually, it was my fault so I really can’t blame her….There’s always been so much more. She’s always been so strong and kind and…so different from me. Someone that I thought a broke man like me could never have. But she still stayed…right there with me….That’s what made me fall for her.”

“…You really love talking about her, don’t you?” Tsukuo asks, smiling at the man.

Gintoki sighs, smirking proudly. “Boasting about my wife once in a while isn’t bad.”

Soon, silence falls between them. Without having any idea of the kind of face the man sitting beside him is making, Gintoki lets his eyes stay fixated on the bushes right across their seat. For some reason, he has been rambling quite a lot today. Was he always this chatty? No, as far as he can remember, he was not. Probably, it’s the heavy feeling in his chest that’s making him so talkative.

“…and, who proposed first?” Tsukuo first breaks the silence.

This catches the silver-haired samurai’s attention.

“Of course, I did.” Gintoki replies, turning to see the man giving him a shocked look that made his eye twitch. “Oi, don’t gimme that look! I saved for the ring!”

At this, Tsukuo gives him an impressed smile. “Who’d have thought, Sakata Gintoki would become such a hopeless romantic for his precious wife?”

This time, the playfulness in his voice makes Gintoki grunt in embarrassment but he chooses to answer anyway. “For her, it’s worth it.”

“Umm-hmm. But I’m pretty sure she made most of payment during the wedding.” Tsukuo cleverly remarks.

Gintoki sighs, nodding in agreement. “Yes. Yes, she did.”

Sneaking a glance at the blond man, Gintoki finds the blond blankly gazing up at the sky, a small smile adoring his lips as he closes his eyes and breathes heavily. Albeit all the striking differences, he couldn’t help but find a sense of secrecy surrounding him, much like her. And right now, his serene expression reminds him of the way she would sometimes get lost in her thoughts.

“Missing her?” Tsukuo asks after a moment of silence.

Upon hearing the question, Gintoki sadly smiles. “Of course…Plus, we haven’t been spending much time together recently because of her work so….yeah.”

“…you still don’t know what’s going on?”

“Nope. But my horoscope did say it’s gonna be a strange day.” Gintoki confesses as a dry laugh escapes his lips. However, Tsukuo doesn’t inquire him any further.

Suddenly, a sense of uneasiness envelops Gintoki. He quietly watches the kids run back to their homes while the sky now appears to be painted in a deep shade of orange, the sun slowly disappearing in the broad horizon. It is strange how everything seems so normal to everyone but him; everything here feels like a strange dream he is unable to wake up from.

For the last few hours, being in Tsukuo’s company didn’t make him feel lonely in any manner. No matter how different he is here, there is a sense of peace in with him.

However, this is not his reality. This is not the place he belongs to. And this person, at the end, does not have any feelings for him.

“I think I should go back.” Standing up from his seat, Gintoki decides to take his leave. A part of him fears if he stays any longer, he would forever remain stuck here.

As he walks away, Tsukuo call out to him. “Oi, where are you going?”

Gintoki can hear his footsteps now. “Home. And I’m hungry.” He replies without turning back.

This still doesn’t stop the man from following him. “How about you come with me to Yoshiwara? It’s better than staying up like some loner in your little house.”

This time, Gintoki turns around, skeptically looking at him. “Don’t you have work?”

“Nope.” Tsukuo shrugs and walks to him. “Hinowa told me to take the day off.”

Well, that kinda hurt. He didn’t even come on his own accord, that’s how bland their relationship seems now.

“Well. You’re free to return back to work, then.” Gintoki waves his hand dismissively, ready to leave again.

“There’s a new izakaya.” His immediate response stops Gintoki on his tracks as he hears his stomach growl hungrily. “My treat.”

*****

By the time the two reached Yoshiwara, it has already turned dark outside as the full moon shone brightly above, illuminating the night sky. The streets appear busier than it was during the afternoon as the two make their way to. But before that, Gintoki gets to hear all the Tsukuo fangirls welcoming him back to Yoshiwara after his oh so long, tiresome day. Damn, nobody even bats an eye on the Savior of Yoshiwara anymore.

“Tsukuo-sama, how about you spend your night with me?”

“There’s a new kimono I received, I’d love~ to show it to you~”

“But I wanted to serve you sake and enjoy watching the full moon with you~”

Damn it, he hated how Tsukuo is like a chic magnet. Yes, the man is handsome and of course, he cannot blame the ladies for being smitten over him but he has been seeing since the afternoon and now all these flirty gestures are starting to get on his nerves. First, he brings him here – basically bribes him with free food - and then, pulls off this shit!

Picking up his pace, Gintoki makes his way through the crowd, leaving Tsukuo behind. If that blondie is going to take his sweet time with his precious ladies, he might as well search for this new bar and get something to eat all by himself.

“Oh Gin-san!” A familiar voice call for him. His mind was so delved into Tsukuo’s apparent bachelor life that he forgot to notice he was passing by the teahouse. “Are you doing okay? ” Hinowa asks sweetly, walking towards him.

“Um…yeah. I’m-I’m fine. That was- I was asking those questions f-for a friend of mine. Sorry for leaving like that.” Gintoki nervously chuckles, scratching his head. It’s better if he just stay quite instead of bombarding her with another set of ridiculous questions like before.

“I see. That’s good to hear. I was worried.” The rave-haired woman politely smiles.

“Um, yeah. Tsukuo mentioned.” There is a hint of disappointment in his voice as his eyes fall on the dusty street. “But you didn’t need to tell him to take day off for me.”

“Oh, but he was way more worried than me. At first, he just simply went back to work when you left. But I could tell how much he was worried.” Hinowa instantly replies, catching Gintoki’s attention. “You know how that man is. Always working and acting like he doesn’t care when he actually does.”

Baffled, Gintoki looks back up to find the woman giving him her signature smile. “You mean-”

“AHHH HINOWA!” The loud voice quickly interrupts their little chat as Gintoki finds a heavy arm casually crash around his shoulders, making the poor man wince. “I’m treating this dude for dinner at Sato-san’s place.” Tsukuo fakes an excited grin.

Not noticing the slight blush on Tsukuo’s face in the dim light, Hinowa beams excitedly. “Oh, that’s great! Their bar is right around the corner. You must taste their kushiyaki, Gin-san -- Tsukuo, don’t forget!”

“Yes ma’am!” Tsukuo obediently notes and starts dragging Gintoki by his neck. “Now let’s get you something to eat!”

“I can walk on my own, damn it!” Comes Gintoki’s grumbling as he frees himself from Tsukuo’s death grip.

“Yeah, yeah, ojii-san.”

“Who’re ya calling ojii-san, bastard!?”

As the two continue their banter on the way, Hinowa lets out a chuckle, waving at them. “Enjoy you two!”

A few moments later, the two enter the new izakaya which appears quite crowded due to its growing popularity. The interior seems to be pretty much similar to Otose’s snack bar – with a bar counter stretching to their right and a few dining tables to their left with customers enjoying their meal – the lively atmosphere feels refreshing. But what catches Gintoki’s interest is a savory aroma of grilled meat around the room that almost made his mouth water.

Walking up to the bar counter, Gintoki takes a seat on one of the stools with Tsukuo sitting beside him. He watches the man take his kimono off and place it on lap, exposing his well-toned biceps that can make every man in the bar look away in envy. Yes, even him.

“Ojii-san, two beef kushiyaki and one sake.” Tsukuo signals the old man behind the counter who quickly responds with a “Coming right up!” with a big smile.

Gintoki gives him a surprised look. “You don’t drink?”

“Nope. Never have.” Tsukuo honestly replies. “Does Tsukuyo?”

“Oh, yes! She loves drinking.” the silver-haired samurai exclaims, remembering all the times when they trashed countless bars together after getting wasted. “But that woman is terrible at handling her liquor.”

This catches his interest. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Gintoki shivers at the thought of his drunken wife’s face. “Give her one drop of alcohol and she turns into a savage beast! I got my head smashed by a bottle of sake when we first had a drink together.”

Tsukuo lets out a chortle. “Damn, I guess it’s better for me to not drink then.”

“Good choice. I call her ‘the drunk terminator’.” Gintoki proudly declares the infamous nickname he once gave to his lovely wife.

The old man places their order in front of them to which Tsukuo gives him a generous nod before turning his attention back to their little chat. “That’s why you called me Arnold Schwarzenegger’s lookalike back when I came to your house.”

Gintoki chuckles and picks a kushiyaki from his place. “Who else am I supposed to compare the brawny male version of my wife with, then?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” With that said, the two dig in to their plates. “Itadakimasu!”.

Taking a bite of the flavorful kushiyaki, Gintoki hums in delight. “This is really good - Ojii-san, I’ll have another of this!”

“You really don’t say no to free food, do you?” Tsukuo shakes his head, not surprised by this habit of his at all.

“Well, you offered.” Gintoki slyly replies with a mouthful to which Tsukuo feels his lips curl.

The two then continue to eat in silence, with Gintoki sneaking a few glances at the distracted man who now has again started smoking from his kiseru after the old man offered his an ashtray. Something about this entire day feels off and yet, with him, he felt at ease. Still does, actually. Perhaps, it’s because Tsukuo’s the only one who knows about his condition. Or perhaps, he’s just trying to deny the fact that he’s, at the end, the same person deep down inside that he has always felt at ease with.

Gintoki recalls the horoscope news– your love will be tested – that’s what it said. Maybe, now he understands what the test really means. But to say it out loud to him; wouldn’t that make things awkward? Because, at the end, this Tsukuyo has no reminisce of the things they have shared together…And the last things he wants to be called is a creep by his own wife.

‘Just talk to him, damn it!’ Slapping himself inside his head, Gintoki pours a glass of sake for himself and chugs it down in one go, loudly exhaling at how unusually strong it tastes. However, before he could bring up the subject, he watches a middle-aged woman wearing a lavish kimono walk to their direction.

“Tsukuo-san, I didn’t expect you to be here.” The woman stands to his right, her silky tone didn’t going unnoticed by Gintoki as she casually puts a hand on Tsukuo’s shoulder.

Something inside Gintoki catches fire.

“Oh, Kirishima-san, what brings you here?” Standing up from his seat, Tsukuo places his kimo and generously greets the lady who, not so surprisingly, reminds Gintoki of a jorogumo. What about personal space- she even has the audacity to stand so damn close to him.

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” The said sophisticated Kirishima-san replies as she coyly places a hand on his chest. “You haven’t been here the whole day, I was looking for you.”

Gintoki chugs down another cup, the burning sensation in his body no longer because of the alcohol.

“Oh, um, I’ve been a little busy.” Tsukuo nervously glances at Gintoki who seems to have been declared invisible by the woman while he continues to drink his sake. He looks furious. “Is there something that you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh, yes. Regarding the donation work.” Kirishima-san says courteously. “If it’s okay, would you like to come outside for a little?”

“Ah, yes, I almost forgot about it.” Tsukuo apologetically says as he escorts the vixen-like lady outside of the bar. Whether it’s just work or not, this Kirishima-lady definitely has ulterior motives.

From the corner of his eyes, Gintoki watches the two chat about something that’s pretty much inaudible to him. The woman says something and Tsukuo nods. Then Tsukuo says something and the woman flirtatiously giggles. From this little view, he could say how badly she wants to get into his pants. However, he feels his blood boil when the woman starts to seductively rub her hand over his left exposed arm, as if he’s her little plaything. And Tsukuo doesn’t seem to mind at all!

‘Hah! He really is a player!’ Immediately, Gintoki looks away before he could see that Tsukuo has politely taken the woman’s hand off his arm.

Scoffing, he drinks up the rest of the liquor from the bottle, sighing in satisfaction. Again, this wasn’t the first time he is seeing this side of Tsukuo but it would be a lie to say none of it…disturbs him. Not even a slightest. Of course, he understands the two are different and never can he ask the person to be someone else but still, isn’t this the same person? At this point, he really cannot comprehend any of such thoughts. And by now, he can feel the alcohol kick in, making his mind all dizzy and muddled.

“Ya know, Ojii-san, I’ve a wife! She’s jus’ the best in the world!” Gintoki slurs in front of the old man, his mind now all foggy. Never had one bottle of sake been enough for him. But tonight, it’s somehow started to show its effects.

“You are a lucky man, sir.” The old man smiles at him.

“Right~” Gintoki hiccups, a goofy smile now plastered on his flushed face. “And she’s called the Shinigami Tayuu, isn’t that cool!?”

“That’s a very great name, sir.”

“Wanna show me where she is?” Ginotoki giddily whispers, just like a little child who has found lost treasure.

The man politely nods “Of course.”

Directing his thumb outside the door, Gintoki points at the Tsukuo with lopsided grin. “There! That man with the blond hair my wife!”

Hearing his little declaration, the old man laughs rather awkwardly while Gintoki continues to ramble. “Isn’t that funny? Like, she was this really sexy, badass woman before but poof, she’s a sexy, badass man now! And seriously, I don’t ‘ave any problem with tha’. But she doesn’t even remember anything! She doesn’t even love me anymore and is now flirting with other girls!” Slapping the counter loudly, he lets out a dry laugh, making the customers nearby look at his direction.

“Sir, I think you’ve had enough drink today. It’s better if you return back home with Tsukuo-dono.�� The old man politely says, now giving him a concerned look as if he is now some drunk who has lost all his senses. Seriously, who was he kidding? There is no chance anyone will ever believe his words. And truthfully, a drunk’s confession is generally considered gibberish.

Exhausted and slightly dizzy, Gintoki stands up from his seat. “That guy will pay.” With that said, he leaves the bar quietly.

*****

Staggering on his feet, Gintoki somehow manages to get out of the flashy and lively streets and enters a dark, deserted alleyway. The full moon shines brightly above him, fortunately enough for him to not lose his steps and stumble down on his face like some cheap, homeless drunk. His head aches and at this moment where he has no solution to whatever-this-is, giving up seems like the only option.

“Oi, Gintoki!” The familiar voice call to him…yet again. And just like this afternoon, he wants to avoid it.

“Will ya just wait!?” Tsukuo yells again, his breathing heavy as Gintoki finally stops at his place and faces him.

“…What do ya want?”

“Why did you leave like that?” Tsukuo asks, slowly walking closer to him.

“You seemed busy with the pretty lady so I left.” Comes his cold response, making Tsukuo stop just a few steps away from him.

Gintoki expected a cocky laugh. Instead he finds Tsukuo gravely looking at his direction.

“…it was work. Really.”

Oh yeah, sure it was work. It’s always work. Whether it’s in here or there, it’s always work! And goddamn it, he was so tired of listening. All he has been trying to do for the last few weeks is to be a good, supportive husband who does not nag his wife for overworking or not spending enough time with him. If he’s being honest, he was angry, really angry at everything. But the moment he tries to make things better, some stupid horoscope predictions decides to test his affection for his wife and now, he’s stuck here with an alternate version of his wife.

Despite all this, he decides to stay quite again. No way is he going for another round of ranting session. Exhaling sharply, Gintoki rubs his temple again. “You know what, instead of doing all this, I should be looking for a way out. But for some dumbass reason, I ended up spending the entire day with you and watched you smug ass getting constantly flocked by your fangirls who you just shamelessly flirt with while I’m constantly reminded that you are not the person I love when I know it’s not true!”

….He failed. He ended up rambling again.

And so to calm himself, Gintoki breathes in. A long, deep breathe. While the man standing in front of him freezes on spot, dumbfounded and speechless.

“…were you jealous?” Tsukuo finally finds his voice back and carefully takes a step forward.

“Of course I was jealous!” The permhead finally admits.

“Why?” And another step forward…

Gintoki scoffs. “Really? You’re asking me ‘why’?”

“Yes.” And another…

He sighs loudly. “Because I love you.”  And Tsukuo smiles.

“Even when you are this flirty, cocky man! Even when you don’t remember a thing about us! Even when I know that you don’t love me here! Because whether you’re Tsukuo or Tsukuyo, deep down, I know it’s you. It will always be you. The same person that I happily devoted my heart to and there’s nothing that I ever want to cha-“

Before Gintoki can finish, Tsukuo’s presses his lips against his, shutting him up in an instant. And Gintoki freezes on his spot, his hands awkwardly dangling around his sides while his eyes widen in surprise. There is nothing too fierce and hungry about the kiss; it feels like the ones they always share after waking up, chaste and full of love. Slowly, Gintoki closes his eyes and returns the kiss back with the same favor as his. Unlike the soft and pink ones, his lips are slightly chapped. And yet, the taste and smell of smoke he has so gotten used to is enough to tell him that yes, he’s kissing the right person.

Shortly later, the two pull back. Panting, Tsukuo puts his head on Gintoki’s shoulder, hiding his now flushed face as they silently stand there, savoring this little moment.

“It’s good to hear that you still love me.” Tsukuo is the first one to break the silence, his voice a little muffled.

‘Still?’ Gintoki knits his brows, confused as he recalls the strange horoscope predication.

“Guess I’m bound to fall for you no matter what.” He can hear the relief in his voice as Tsukuo slowly raises his head. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

The test, this strange world…His smile said everything. “You knew…?”

Tsukuo doesn’t answer his question. Instead, he just lovingly smiles at him and says something else as Gintoki feels his vision get blurry, his face slowly disappearing before him as his voice gets replaced by the one he has been hearing for years.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. I’ve got something to tell you.”

*****

The stiff sofa cushion has made his back ache painfully as Gintoki slowly sits up, stretching his arms and legs to loosen up his sore muscles. Sluggishly, he scans the surrounding to find the bulb above him glowing and outside the window, its pitch black, suggesting its night by now. He doesn’t even remember when he fell asleep. The TV is right around the corner as always and so is the little shelf. And there are two frames kept there- one of the Yororzuya and the other of his wedding day…

“You’re awake.” His eyes snap open at the familiar….and feminine voice of his wife who emerges from their bedroom right behind him. Turing around, he finds Tsukuyo walk up to him with her nightgown on.

In an instant, Gintoki jumps up from his seat and rushes to his wife, embraces her in a tight hug and almost making her lose balance. “OhmyGod, Gintoki! What’re you doing?”

Even her yelp didn’t make his huge grin disappear as he held his wife close, breathing in her freshly bathed scent. “I missed you!”

“H-huh? W-what’s the matter?” His sudden confession made the woman turn a deep shade of pink.

Pulling back from the hug, he lovingly presses his lips against hers. “I’m saying I missed you, woman!”

Watching the joyous smile on her husband’s face, Tsukuyo feels her lips curl up too as she caresses his cheeks affectionately. “I missed you too, you foolish man.”

“I just had the strangest dream ever. All just to see that no matter what or who you are, I will always end up falling for you.” Placing a hand on her heart, Gintoki looks at the love of his life with the brightest smile on his face. “It practically called you my soulmate.”

Hearing this, Tsukuyo lovingly holds her husband’s face in her palms, her amethyst eyes and soft voice entrancing him for the rest of his life. “Soulmate or not, I’ll always fall for you, too. No matter what.”

This makes the man exhale a sigh of relief. “I love you.” Gintoki says and leans in to touch his forehead with hers.

“I love you, too. And I’m sorry I couldn’t spend time with you for the last couple of weeks. You even came to meet me today but I couldn’t make it.” Tsukuyo apologetically says and closes her eye, finding comfort in his embrace.

Instead of asking when he went to meet her, Gintoki gently presses a kiss on her forehead and looks back at her. “Don’t apologize. Just…don’t overwork yourself, okay? And take a break. I was thinking of keeping it a surprise but let’s go somewhere for anniversary, on a trip.”

To his offer, Tsukuyo happily hums in response. “Okay. Let’s go.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulls him for a hug which he happily accepts.

Gintoki doesn’t remember what exactly happened here; the dream is only that he has memories of. And yet, there is a part of him that knows that wasn’t just a dream. However, instead of pondering about the past, he’d rather live in the present. After all, he deserves this moment of happiness his wife after getting his mind bombarded by a strange ‘test’.

“By the way, I think I’ll have to take a longer break.”

At this, Gintoki pulls back a little, slightly confused. “Huh?”

Looking down, he watches Tsukuyo take his hand off her waist and slowly bring it to her belly while Gintoki looks back up at her, astonished and completely speechless.

“Looks like you’re gonna be a father again, Sakata-san.” Watching the sexy smirk adoring her beautiful face, Gintoki feels his face go from surprised to purely ecstatic. And in an instant, he sweeps her off her feet, spinning her around in exhilarating joy while Tsukuyo giggles warmly in his arms.

“WE’RE GONNA PARENTS SOON!”

“Hahahaha! Gintoki, stop it!”

“WE’RE GONNA BE PARENTS SOON , BABY!”

“Yes, yes! I know! Now put me down!”

In between their giggles and joyous laughs, the two stop midway in their little celebration as Gintoki carefully brings the woman down. His wide, goofy grin never leaves his face and he once again presses his lips against hers, which she wholeheartedly returns. No way can he ever explain how happy he is now. After years of running away, after years of calling himself unworthy of love, he finally found someone who now shares her life with him. And never in this lifetime or any other, would he like to change that.

“Thank you for making me the luckiest man in the world.”

[feisty-emblem]

Let’s kick this blog off with the ship that inspired me in the first place!

Yuri/Byleth NSFW

Word Count: ~2700 Contains: FTM Byleth, Post-Skip, mild Golden Deer spoilers, lots of Firsts for Byleth

The sun sank beneath the horizon, suspending Garreg Mach in cool indigos and soothing blues. Candles flickered the windows of most dorms but even those winked out one by one as the hour grew later. The Alliance army had suffered a long battle, a longer march, and deserved a long rest. 

Byleth waded through the night. All around him, the monastery was settling in for sleep. The clang of metal on metal had stopped ringing from the training ground. Fireflies drifted lazily around the few guards still on patrol. Throughout Garreg Mach, quills had been put away, ink bottles capped, and nightly prayers whispered.

But Byleth knew better. As he walked, he could almost feel Abyss awake under his boots, like the buzz of a hive. There was always work to be done. Even here on the surface, Byleth watched  cats uncurl and stretch as the time for their hunt arrived. Bats wove between stars. Far away, beyond the walls, a wolf howled. 

Yet— even Claude’s window was dark now. Enbarr was behind them. Though there was more fighting to be done, the war was over. That was cause enough for Byleth to turn towards his room. 

Inside, Byleth locked the door, lit the lone candle on his desk, and began freeing himself of his clothes. All the while, his mind was a few feet below— on Abyss. On wherever capturing Enbarr had inflicted on its people. On what Yuri could  be doing. 

Because even after that march, Byleth knew Yuri would be awake. He would stay up as long as  his legs would hold him trying to solve all the worries of Abyss at once. Yuri cared for nothing and no one more than his people. Except his mother, of course. 

Byleth had no idea where he ranked on that scale. Yuri cared about him some amount, that much was certain. Shortly before the battle of Gronder, Yuri had cornered him in the church, kissed him deeply, and told him not to die. 

That kiss had led to many more. Sometimes after having tea in the gardens there would be slow, cautious kisses exchanged between rose bushes. Other times they would find themselves alone after strategy meetings and Byleth would end up with his back against the wall and his arms around Yuri’s waist.   

All Byleth knew was that Yuri didn’t want him dead. And that Yuri liked kissing him. But neither fact told Byleth where exactly he placed on Yuri’s priorities. And that was okay— there were more important things to worry about, Byleth told himself. There were more important things than the ugly disappointment Byleth routinely felt when he heard Yuri laugh at someone else's jokes, or flirted with a peddler for a better price, or told Byleth he was too busy for lunch.

Shaking his head, Byleth continued to strip until he was in nothing but his small clothes. Comfortable summer air flew in through the window. Forgoing his usual sleep shirt, Byleth blew out the candle, and fell into bed. 

For the next few hours, he could forget about Abyss, Enbarr, Shamballa— and Yuri. For a few hours he could leave the mess that was his feelings for Yuri in the waking world and dissolve into dreams.

That had been the plan anyway. But just as Byleth got comfortable, his door opened. He sat up, calling magic to his fingertips, nerves on end.

“Yuri?”

Yuri walked in as if he did this every night. He shut and locked the door behind him, kicking off his boots as he said, “I thought you’d never get here. I’ve been watching your window for over an hour.”

“Seteth and I were going over the route to Shamballa.” Byleth narrowed his eyes as he realized Yuri wasn’t wearing his usual outfit. He stood in Byleth’s room in a simple tunic and dark pants. A belt around his waist sported a dagger but as Byleth stared, Yuri took it off and looped it over the desk chair. “What are you doing here?” Byleth asked when Yuri also removed his tunic.

Yuri didn’t answer. Down to just his pants, he climbed gracefully onto the bed until his knees were parallel to Byleth’s hips, hands pressed into the mattress beside Byleth’s head. He held himself up inches from Byleth. 

“You alright?” Yuri’s breath caressed Byleth’s lips.

“What?”

“Are you feeling alright? After marching all the way here? No injuries I somehow missed?”

“N-No, I’m fine.”

A smirk. “Good.”

Yuri kissed him. It was a different kind of kiss than the ones they had exchanged before. Or maybe the angle was just different— Byleth wasn’t used to Yuri hovering above him. Or the way his hair fell down to tickle Byleth’s forehead. Or the pressure of Yuri’s hips descending on his own.

Byleth pushed Yuri back with a slight press to his clavicle. “What are you doing?”

Yuri chuckled. “I thought that might be obvious.”

“But—” Byleth struggled to sit up. Yuri let him, still with a knee on either side of Byleth, hands going to Byleth’s shoulders to keep steady in his lap. “But why now? I thought you would be busy.”

“Oh I am. I’ll have a lot to do come morning.”

“So then—”

Yuri cupped Byleth’s face. “Because you work hard. And so do I. And there’s never going to be an end to it.”

Byleth swallowed, eyes not leaving Yuri’s. Moonlight spilled in through the window and turned Yuri’s hair into an aura, his gaze into sharpened amethyst.  

“The war is over, but there’s already another fight on our plate,” Yuri continued. “After that they’ll be something else to fight. I can already tell. There will always be someone or something left to fight. You’ll be in every major battle on the continent until the day you die, Byleth. The Church knows you’re useful, and they don’t let go of useful people easily. You have Claude’s trust. When he runs into trouble building his new world, who do you think he’s going to turn to?”

Fingers ghosted down Byleth’s neck. Yuri sheathed his gaze for a moment to follow the path of his hands. “It’s the same for me.” Never had Yuri’s voice sounded smaller. His fingers traveled back up and found a home in Byleth’s hair. “We’re the same. And I realized you don’t have to do it all alone.”

Byleth held Yuri by the wrists. “I don’t want you to do it alone anymore,” Byleth confessed. “I want to help you, Yuri. I want—”

A kiss cut him off. A slow kiss that Byleth didn’t try to resist. Yuri tilted Byleth’s head back, tongue roaming free, drawing a moan from Byleth. It would be so easy to just lay back and let this happen. Let Yuri kiss him into oblivion. But there was more to say.

“Yuri—”

“You’re not listening to me.” Yuri pressed his forehead to Byleth’s. “It doesn’t have to just be you helping me. Let me help you, friend. I want to take care of you.” He accented this with a roll of his hips. Something solid made brief contact with Byleth’s midriff and he let out a stuttered moan. “Goddess knows you deserve it.”

Byleth hands dropped to Yuri’s waist, trying to keep him still even as Yuri’s lips flit across the bridge of his nose. “B-But why?”

Yuri froze. He drew back, eyes softening with confusion. “Why what?”

“Why do you want to take care of me so badly?”

“Why—” Yuri’s lip quirked up. “Do you think I make out with everyone?”

 “No…”

“Do you think I make everyone in the army promise me they’ll come back alive? Do you see me dragging Claude back into the stables after chores? Or staring at Balthus while he trains?”

“No.” Byleth felt his face color. “So then—”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Yuri cupped Byleth’s face again, smirk firmly in place now. “Should I tell you exactly how precious you are to me or can I get to why I’m here in the first place?”

Byleth gulped. “We can— Yuri, you should know I’ve never… you know. Anything like this before.”

“Oh we’re not going to get far talking like that.”

Without warning, Yuri pushed Byleth back, pinning his wrists to the bed before he could react. It would be pathetic in any other circumstance— the Ashen Demon being held down in his own bed— but Yuri did it effortlessly, leaning down to speak directly in Byleth’s ear. “I said I’m going to take care of you. Anything you want, you’ll get. I’ll even stop if you like. But if you can’t even say the word sex, I don’t know if I can trust you to direct me.”

Byleth’s mind was spinning. Anything he wanted. Anything from Yuri. In truth he would take whatever Yuri felt like giving him— even just kissing as they had before would be satisfying. But… if this was truly what Yuri wanted to do…

And didn’t Byleth deserve it? To be doted on for once? 

“I’ve never had sex,” Byleth stated. He tried to will away his blush but Yuri kissed the apple of his cheek and Byleth felt his shame ebb. “I’ve never wanted to. Before now.” Byleth turned to catch Yuri’s lips, keeping the contact light so he could whisper, “Not before you.”

That seemed to be all Yuri needed to hear. He deepened the kiss, hands sliding off Byleth’s wrists to flit over his chest. Those skilled, confident, wonderful hands lingered over Byleth’s surgery scars before skimming lower, tracing old battle wounds and minding new bruises from Enbarr. 

“Tell me what you want,” Yuri said into Byleth. 

“Y-You.”

“Cute.” A chaste kiss. “Be more specific.” 

But words were growing difficult. Every touch was a new sensation. Every kiss left Byleth breathless. And Yuri was everywhere, it seemed. Overwhelming didn’t begin to describe it.

Byleth bucked his hips up, gasping when he felt Yuri’s length press against his crotch. Of course it only lasted a split second but by the grace of the Goddess Yuri seemed to understand. As Byleth flopped back to his bed, Yuri followed, moving against Byleth, the layers of clothing making it somehow more arousing.

Yuri chuckled. “If I may make a suggestion…” His fingers dipped into Byleth sleep pants. Eyes blown wide with pleasure met Byleth’s, waiting. Sothis bless this man. Byleth nodded vigorously. “Ah ah, use your words.”

“Please.”

“Better.” 

More heat crept into Byleth’s face as Yuri undressed him. Byleth couldn’t count the number of times he had stripped off blooded garments in the middle of camp, in full view of cooks and mercenaries and healers and officers. He was no stranger, even, to seeing Yuri pulling off his own clothes in favor tending to a wound directly.

Yet now, here, moonlight gliding over Yuri’s skin as he tugged off his own pants, Byleth felt himself swallow. His eyes trailed low and he swallowed again.

A finger under his chin made Byleth look up. Yuri kissed him— light, comforting, a reprieve from the tight coil in Byleth’s chest stuck between fight or flight. “Alright?” Yuri murmured.

“I’m alright.” Byleth sounded steadier than he imagined he would. Perhaps a little high, but steady. He drew confidence from that. “I don’t want penetration tonight.”

Yuri pulled back to nod. “Then what would you like?”

“Can you just…” Oh how to phrase this? “Um. I would like…”

“Hm?”

Byleth suddenly wanted nothing more than to reset to when they were just kissing. That was much less complicated. He didn’t know the right terms for this, he didn’t know what he wanted, he had never done this before—

“Hey, stay with me.”

At some point, Byleth had shut his eyes. He opened them now to find Yuri staring down at him with clear concern. For the first time, Yuri was frowning. “Do you want to stop?” Byleth bit his lip. Yuri let go of Byleth completely and began shifting away.

Byleth reached out to hold him secure. “No! No, don’t— I don’t want to stop.”

Yuri, knees still bracketing Byleth, ran a soothing hand over Byleth’s side. “Talk to me. Come on, friend, whatever you want, remember?”

Sucking in a lungful of air— air mixed with the scent of Yuri— Byleth said, “I want you a-against me.”

He waited for Yuri to call him cute again. To maybe say the correct term for the act, if there was one, or admonish Byleth for being too vague. 

Neither happened. Yuri simply nodded again and kissed Byleth, lowering himself until their cocks brushed together. Byleth gasped. Through clothing was absolutely nothing compared to—

“Like that?” Yuri prompted, thrusting slowly against Byleth.

“Just like that.” Byleth pulled Yuri to him, burying his face in Yuri’s neck and kissing there for good measure. “Yes, like that, yes.”

Yuri picked up the pace, letting Byleth pull him down to cover him completely, chests pressed together. One hand went down to hold Byleth’s legs open wider and Byleth whimpered, suddenly aware how wet he was. Yuri nipped at Byleth’s ear before asking, “Can you come like this?”

Only a handful of times had Byleth pleasured himself. And of those times he had only come a few. But this felt different— this sent sparks up Byleth’s spine and made him pant shamelessly against Yuri’s shoulder. If he had a heart, it would likely be beating out of his chest. “Yes,” Byleth groaned.

To his surprise, Yuri pushed himself up, hovering over Byleth once again. Still rutting against him, Yuri smirked. “I want to see your face. Make sure I know I did good by you.”

Byleth was trembling but he still forced out, “Y-You could never… never disappoint me, Yuri.”   

Another frown crossed Yuri’s face before he chased it off with a smirk. “Maybe not now but—”

Byleth reached out to cup Yuri’s cheek. “Don’t talk like that.”

“I just mean—”

“Anything I want, right?” Byleth fixed Yuri with a stern look he usually reserved for war meetings. “You said you’d give me anything I wanted. I want you to not talk like that.”

It was Yuri’s turn to swallow. He hesitated in his thrusts, covering Byleth’s hand with his own. After a moment, he shook his head, smile overtaking the smirk. “Of course. Apologies, friend.”

Byleth nodded and pulled Yuri back down for a kiss, tensing only when Yuri started moving again, trying to concentrate on mapping Yuri’s mouth. His hands pressed over the small of Yuri’s back, urging Yuri on and desperate for as much contact as possible. He wanted to feel all of Yuri. 

How could Byleth have ever been hesitant about this? It was Yuri, it was just his Yuri making Byleth feel so so good. 

It didn’t take long for Byleth to break the kiss with a shaky, “I-I’m close.”

Yuri lifted himself up again, inches from Byleth’s face. “I’ve got you. Let it happen.”

One final hard press of Yuri’s cock— and Byleth lost track of the world. A ringing echoed in his ears and he was only faintly aware of his mouth hanging open, head thrown back. Yuri’s voice became a hum that seemed to course through Byleth’s whole body. 

It took a few moments for Byleth to return to himself. Both his hands were bunched in the fabric of his blanket. Yuri had laid down beside him, red faced and gasping.

Byleth didn’t trust his body to respond properly yet. Everything felt like jelly, even his neck as he turned to look at Yuri. “D-D-Did you… do you need me to...?”

Yuri snickered, face half pressed into the bed. “I’m t-taken care of. No need to worry yourself.” He lifted himself on his elbows to reveal a damp spot on the blanket. Byleth was sure his side of the bed didn’t look much better, but looking would require effort. 

As if sensing his reluctance, Yuri shuffled closer to throw one arm over Byleth, nuzzling into his neck. Byleth was just able to wrap an arm around Yuri. “That was…” Once again, Byleth found words a challenge. With a sigh, Byleth kissed Yuri’s forehead. “Thank you.”

Yuri hummed and curled into Byleth’s side. “You’re welcome.”

Outside, the moon rose still higher in the sky, stars twinkling peacefully over Garreg Mach. Byleth relished at being exhausted by something other than battle or planning or marching. And it didn’t take much to let himself drift off to sleep, holding Yuri secure— unable to come up with a good reason to ever let him go.   

[keyofjetwolf]

We’re All Just Guys

Well it took the entire fucking season, but I FINALLY get the purpose for Henry Fondle: Sex Robot. And while the entire episode (and season, honestly) has been tremendous, that this ridiculous fucking punchline was the vehicle to deliver the overarching point with a solid knockout punch of meaning AND pathos? Absolutely floored. That BoJack Horseman can be (and often is) brilliant isn’t a surprise, but the ways is keeps proving it often are.

So “The Stopped Show”, a tale of accountability and responsibility and how we’re all just guys.

Each of our main characters closes out this season alone (sort of), in assorted stages of realizing the main themes, or completely failing to. I find Diane’s arc the hardest for me to make a decision on, which isn’t surprising, as I think in many ways, Diane’s the most complicated character in the show. She delivers, directly and succinctly, one of the major points of not just this season but the entire show, but how does it relate to her? I’M NOT COMPLETELY SURE. I think part of the problem with (and for) Diane is that she knows better. She’s the most insightful character, she has a fantastic head on her shoulders, but only for everyone else. She’s this fucked up little disaster prophet, her vision clear and her message concise, unable to ever apply her gifts to fix herself.

Diane is just as trapped as BoJack, but in a fun twist, is now lagging behind him in trying to do something about it. Nearly every single scene with Diane this season has been in this sad little room of her sad little apartment with all her sad little unpacked boxes, and no matter how much truth and wisdom she spits out, HERE SHE STILL IS, failing to correctly assemble IKEA furniture with names like Bȧcksleid. She already feels like shit for sleeping with Mr. Peanutbutter, so what does she do? THE SAME FUCKING THING. To which I groan and roll my eyes, while simultaneously being proud of her for directly and immediately setting him straight about not getting back together. Diane rides this constant line where she gets it but also doesn’t, which is so interesting to me in the level of additional frustration this makes me feel. BoJack is so self-absorbed you don’t really expect any better of him, which has the flip side of your expectations being so low that even the whiff of progress feels exceptional. Diane doesn’t come with any of that though, she knows better, you KNOW she knows better, and the consequence of this for the audience is that she winds up being more unlikeable than the guy who literally last episode nearly strangled his girlfriend and co-star in the middle of a paranoid drug-induced frenzy.

Which is fucked up! It’s intensely fucked up! And also, I think, the point! We expect more of Diane, and so feel more disappointed when she doesn’t deliver. Is that fair of us?

But there’s more here, as we pivot to the accountability portion of this episode/season. From the beginning of the show, it’s been incredibly upfront about how everything is unfair. We come back to this time and again. Privilege rules the day in the world of Hollywoo. Fame, money, charisma, gender, power. BoJack has been an asshole from pretty much the moment he set foot in the spotlight (possibly before?), and the only thing ever even attempting to hold him back has been the moments his guilt manages to scream loud enough to be heard over his internal narrative. Whatever he does, however he fucks up, he always stumbles back to his feet, and NEVER with any (broad scale) consequences. Meanwhile, here’s Diane, in her sad shitty apartment. Consequences haunt Diane, even if she’s the one doing the haunting. The crap things she’s done and the shitty choices she’s made cling to her.

There’s no fairness in that either, no justice. But Hollywoo (and the entire world around it) (and our world too oh yes) has that privilege carved into its bones, and Diane bears none of its marks. Her situation is very different from but parallel to Gina, who is just so fucked over, it keeps legitimately making me angry for her.

Gina, of course, brought none of this on herself. She made the mistake of caring about BoJack and trying to help him. OOPS YOU WERE A GENEROUS PERSON WITH AN OPEN HEART FUCK YOU LADY. For her trouble, Gina has been assaulted and traumatized, AND she is in very real danger of her career being over when it’s only just finally beginning. And she KNOWS THIS. That’s the part that I keep coming back to. All this should be an aberration, an anomaly, and while that may be true of the specifics, conceptually, it’s so commonplace that Gina already knows how it’s going to play. She’ll stop being Gina and become The Woman Nearly Strangled To Death By BoJack Horseman. Even if she’s able to keep working, this is what she’ll be asked about in every interview forever. Even if she convinced people to genuinely listen to her, BoJack would, at worst, get a slap on the wrist as he stumbles back to his feet. We know that, WE ALL KNOW THAT, because it happens all. the. fucking. time. Gina did nothing wrong, but this would still define her for the rest of her life, while for BoJack, it would maybe become a footnote on his Wikipedia page.

Nothing about that is FAIR. Nothing about it is JUST. Gina’s choices shouldn’t have to be “this becomes my entire life” or “swallow this down and pretend it never happened”. But it is, as it has been in perpetuity for the victims of the privileged.

So then what can we do about it? Well that’s really the question, isn’t it? This episode answers it in an assortment of ways (I think the entire SHOW is very much about this, really, but this episode is for sure coming with guns blazing), while also showing us why none of those answers can work. It’s funny and sad and awful and true, but also, ultimately, the most hopeful answer because it’s the only one you can actually affect: It’s you. It’s me. It’s each and every one of us, individually, making a choice to be better.

And believe it or not, we embody this with Henry Fondle: Sex Robot.

I thought the whole thing was so unbelievably stupid. Half the season, we’ve had this goddamn multi-dildo’d juvenile frat boy joke running around with its stupid ass Speak-and-Say voice, doing the same shtick over and over, and I’m like, “okay this is just the shit I have to put up with to get the clever stuff, I guess.” BUT THAT’S EXACTLY THE POINT I’M SITTING THERE LIVING THE ENTIRE GODDAMN POINT AND MISSING IT. Henry Fondle: Sex Robot is seventeen shades of overt horribleness, AND WE ALL JUST GIVE IT A PASS. It’s just the way it is, the way the world works, the price of doing business. When the whole time -- THE ENTIRE FUCKING TIME -- all it took was one person to say no. One person who could see the game we all are playing and was willing to give up everything to stop it.

Hilariously, Henry Fondle IS a metaphor, sort of, but of the saddest kind. He is literally a robot, he can’t possibly change. What’s more, media fervor will never affect him, fallout will never touch him, and the powerful will always rally around themselves to retain their power. It takes Todd, the head of the company, the creator of Henry Fondle, and the one person who would benefit most from the unending efforts of the rest of the world bending over backwards to avoid the truth, to put a stop to it. In doing so, he immediately returns to his old, homeless, destitute self, but doesn’t once hesitate or look back.

It’s Todd, and only Todd, that stops that madness, because while individual people are a problem, the world at large is too. Stefani makes a great point that Diane holds herself and everyone else to impossible standards and a little forgiveness and grace wouldn’t go amiss, but when Diane suggests they apply that philosophy to their clickbait gossipy shit on their website, it’s just

Which again, is beautifully cynical and depressing, but not untrue. Fostering a more forgiving culture isn’t in stopping websites from posting clickbaity takedown articles, it’s each person deciding not to take the clickbait. We can absolutely have a conversation about the people creating their world or the world creating its people, but when you boil it down, only one of those things can you yourself absolutely and directly change, and it’s not the entire world.

A THING DIANE GETS BUT SIMULTANEOUSLY ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT.

I can’t take myself away from this Diane thing, I know, but only because she’s the fucking CORE of each and every one of us struggling with this idea. She’s the simplicity of it and the complication all in one. Not BoJack, which is NOT where I thought we’d be when we started this journey. BoJack is more an action on the people around him at this point in the story, he IS the world you cannot change. He’s pointed to rehab, and off he goes -- or doesn’t! I don’t think it’s coincidence that we stay with Diane and watch her watching him.

Oh, Diane, indeed. As she tells her story of her friend Abby, who threw her over for the cool kids, who turned every confidence into a scar. Who Diane still helped anyway, because Abby needed her. Did Abby learn from that, did she get better? We don’t know; we stay with Diane and watch her watching Abby. Diane, who can so completely understand about personal responsibility while failing to recognize her own enabling for the shitty things that keep happening to her.

You can control yourself. That’s it. That’s the only playground with a guarantee.

Will BoJack go off to learn that? Will Diane stay and figure it out?

THAT’S WHAT NEXT SEASON IS FOR

Something I was toying with including in this, but ultimately decided against for a variety of reasons, was the contrast between BoJack’s take on personal responsibility independent of external response, and The Good Place’s argument that people need external support for personal growth. An idea I may not have even considered contrasting save that Doc’s talked before about these two Jewish creators with what are clearly very different philosophies, and basically, if she were ever able to manage a discussion between them on this, I’d love to be in the room. I’ll be very quiet and not get in the way, I promise.

[fantastic-secrets]

Butterfly Wings [2]

Fandom: Bleach

Characters: Ichimaru Gin, Aizen Sousuke

Warnings: Threat of Violence, Dubious Consent, Oral Sex

Word Count: 1.9k

[Part 1]

When no more uncharacteristic, unsettling incidents occurred, even when the two men were alone together, Gin allowed himself to relax slightly. As he'd hoped, Rangiku hadn't come to Fifth Company, instead taking a position in the Tenth. Still, even though it wasn't the worst case scenario, it wasn't the best, either. If she'd been able to join the First or Second… but as he'd truthfully admitted to Aizen, she was nothing more than an ordinary, average shinigami. Shiba-taichou didn't seem like he would be an impediment to Aizen's plan, but Gin had secretly resolved to cut him down if he ever got in the way, before she could be exposed to danger.

Since she'd graduated from the academy, though, Rangiku seemed to have much more free time, which she sometimes spent trying to cajole Gin into spending more time with her and others. For the most part, he managed to brush off her invitations with vague excuses about work, all the while being acutely aware of warm brown eyes following him. Aizen already knew that she was the only person that Gin really talked to besides himself, so Gin struggled to maintain the illusion that he didn't have any particular feelings for her. If his fukutaichou seized upon the idea that she was his weakness, Gin had no idea what he might do. From what he knew of the other man, he was just as likely to pick her for his experiments as he was to promise Gin that she'd be perfectly safe from them. Still, he couldn't refuse all of her invitations, so he'd occasionally end up on the sidelines as Rangiku simply celebrated life while he quietly accumulated others' discomfort and distrust despite being a model shinigami.

He was returning from one such gathering when the soft grinding of a door sliding open caught his attention. Looking in the direction of the noise, he saw Aizen standing in the doorway of his rooms, a freshly lit taper held in a candle holder. Once their eyes met, the older man disappeared into his quarters, leaving the door open. A quick glance around told him that nobody else seemed to be present--it was late, after all--and the only light in the compound came from the fukutaichou's room, since everyone else was likely asleep. Silently, he obeyed the unspoken order, following the flickering light until he paused on the threshold of what was clearly Aizen's private quarters. The man himself lounged casually on a futon, his robes draped loosely around his body.

"Come in and sit down," Aizen suggested, his tone no different than if they had been in his office. Gingerly, Gin stepped into the room and knelt beside his commanding officer. For a brief moment, a sly smile slid across Aizen's face as he reached out to clasp Gin's thin, pale wrist. Gin's mind had barely begun to process what was happening when it froze at the touch of cold steel at his throat. Suddenly, the bloodlust in the room was nearly suffocating, and he held himself deathly still, certain that any movement would be his last.

"Aizen-fukutaichou? What're ya doing?" he asked quietly after a long minute of silence, once he was certain his voice wouldn't shake. The feeling of overpowering dread lessened slightly, though it didn't dissipate, and the keen blade continued to rest against his neck. Even if he'd been inclined to reach for his own weapon, he couldn't do so without alerting the other man, whose hand remained loosely encircling his wrist.

"What does it look like to you, Ichimaru-kun?" The more formal method of address, which Aizen hadn't used in years, confused Gin. Of course, that wasn't to say that he couldn't think of a reason for this whole scenario, but he would never admit to it out loud. Still, he had a feeling that his usual blasé attitude wouldn't fly in this situation, either, so he chose to remain silent, studying Aizen's expression even as the other man studied his. In the end, the older man was the one to break the silence with a light chuckle, withdrawing his blade and setting it aside before releasing his grip on his subordinate.

"I apologize for that, Gin," he said, full of sincere contrition that Gin didn't believe for a moment. "I'd only wanted to surprise you. You're quite skilled at hiding your feelings behind that mask, so it's always a pleasure to see something else. And, of course, I'd also hoped that I could see your eyes again. Most people seem to think they're red, you know. It's an understandable mistake, given your coloration. Is there a reason you don't open them normally?"

"Ya said yourself that ya didn't want others seein' them, right?" Gin replied with a smile, the aforementioned mask back in place over the turmoil of his thoughts. "But even before that, this is just how my eyes are. Walkin' around with 'em wide open would be like ya walkin' around with yours shut. 'least, long as I can remember, I've always been like this."

"You're quite obliging, aren't you? I really do hope you're not this way with anyone else, or I might have to kill them." Though it sounded like a good-natured joke, there was an edge to the statement that made him wonder how serious Aizen was. Deliberately, the fukutaichou stretched into a sitting position, placing a hand on Gin's shoulder and pushing him down. When he started to loosen the younger man's shihakushou, everything clicked together.

Gin wasn't so innocent as to be unaware of sex, though he'd never engaged in it himself. Nor was he ignorant of the fact that, especially in the worse parts of Rukongai, rapes sometimes occurred. He'd seen the looks of some men when they saw Rangiku, leers that filled him with a cold rage that was only sated when their hot blood spilled at his feet. But he'd never considered that Aizen might want this from him, whether from actual desire or as another test of loyalty. He didn't have to fake the tremor in his hands as he reached up to wrap them around Aizen's wrists in a reflection of their earlier positions, not pushing the man away, just holding them. Still, it was enough to make the fukutaichou pause, looking up at a pale, drawn face devoid of its usual smile.

"Is this your first time? Or is it just that you're opposed to having me as your partner? If you don't want to do this, you only need to tell me so."

"It… it ain't that I don't like ya. I'm just surprised. I don't think there's ever been anyone who wanted me like this. And I respect ya, fukutaichou, but I dunno if I'm capable of lovin' anyone, either. I toldja before, didn't I? I don't have a heart. So I don't want ya t' end up disappointed, or hurt."

Aizen laughed, a warm, soft sound, as his right hand shifted to rest on Gin's chest. "I don't think you could ever disappoint me, Gin. For now, I'll be satisfied with just your body while I try to capture your heart, if you'll give me the chance. I think you sell yourself short, though. You're quite beautiful, in an unconventional way; I can't be the first person who has ever wanted to do this to you."

He leaned down to press a soft kiss against Gin's lips, his tongue lightly probing. Hesitantly, the younger man released his hold on the other man, though his body remained taut with tension until Aizen pulled back, leaving a breath between their faces.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle… this time, at least. I'm glad that I'm your first, so I don't need to break any bad habits," Aizen murmured. The words sent a chill through Gin, and a dark smile spread over Aizen's face as he felt the brief tremor. When Gin didn't make any moves to resist or push him away, a flash of satisfaction appeared in Aizen's eyes. Slowly and deliberately, he continued to undress his subordinate, tracing the defined muscles under the thin, pale skin as they were exposed. Despite the harsh training he must have gone through to graduate from the academy in just one year, Gin's skin was remarkably smooth, with few traces of scars. But for each one that he did have, Aizen's fingers traced its edges, lingering for a long moment before continuing their work.

Finally, Gin was fully disrobed, and Aizen sat back to take all of him in. The younger man's body seemed tense enough to snap, unable to conceal his nervousness laced with a touch of fear. Again, Aizen smiled, his eyes fixed on Gin's face, as he grasped Gin's cock. The touch made the silver-haired man flinch, and a shudder ran through his body as Aizen began to stroke him into an erection.

"Relax. I want you to enjoy this," Aizen murmured, every inch the considerate lover. Gin's body was slow to respond to his ministrations, but it eventually did, and he flinched again as the older man lowered his mouth over his engorged head. The tension between them changed as Aizen's tongue swirled around him, his dexterous fingers playing along his shaft with an ever-changing pattern. He seemed determined to keep his subordinate on the very edge of ecstasy as ripples of pleasure spread through the young body.

"Aizen… Aizen-san… please…" Gin wasn't even sure what he was asking for, and just when it seemed that he would be pulled under and drowned, the other man swallowed him deeper, just before Gin's hips thrust upward and he emptied himself.

Once he'd fallen limp, Aizen pulled himself off, crawling back up the pale body to clamp his lips over Gin's in another kiss. A trickle of something warm, salty, and a little bitter slid into his mouth, and Gin's first instinct was to spit it out, except that Aizen had drawn back and placed a finger over the younger man's lips, a light touch that forbade him from opening his mouth until he had swallowed it.

"That's good, Gin," Aizen praised him softly. "And you taste exactly as I imagined. Go ahead and rest; we'll talk more in the morning."

When he moved to pull the covers off his futon and over the younger man, Gin sat up, protesting as he drew his discarded clothes around himself.

"I can't letcha do that, Aizen-fukutaichou. Ya need t' sleep too. I can just go back t' my room. 'sides, it prob'ly wouldn't be good for your reputation, if people found out."

"They won't find out, just like with the former third seat. It would please me if you stayed, Gin." The reminder of the incident that had brought them together made Gin fall silent. He still wanted to ask how the man had pulled off that cover-up, but he wasn't sure if Aizen would answer him truthfully at this point. Yes, it would probably be better to wait a little longer: with this change in their relationship, he had a chance to establish himself more firmly in Aizen's plans and gain his trust.

If Aizen knew what he was thinking, he gave no sign of it. Instead, apparently taking the silence for assent, he nodded toward his futon. "It'll be more comfortable there. Don't worry about me; there's still some work I need to finish up, but I'll join you later. I won't do anything else tonight, I promise."

Hesitantly, Gin obeyed, rearranging the blanket on the futon before lying down. He watched quietly as Aizen worked by the flickering light of the candle, listening to the soft scratch of his pen. Eventually, exhaustion claimed him, and he drifted into sleep with the older man's profile burned into his eyes.

[poppy-pelican]

Holding Out (Makes It Better) - fic

Rating: Explicit (because of course it is)

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist

Summary: “Why don’t we make a…competition of it?” Roy said, standing up like he was going to give orders. “A…team building exercise, if you will.” His eyes drifted to Hawkeye, giving her a meaningful look that he hoped conveyed: back me up on this or else.

OR

Mustang's team bonds over who can keep from touching themselves the longest.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26021110

“While I trust my team, I have been noticing…” Roy hesitated, adjusting the phone against his ear.

“A lack of cohesion?” Hughes offered.

Much more diplomatic than sibling rivalry. Roy had recently been granted permission to choose officers for his own team—a sure sign a promotion was on the way this year. But the last time they had to work together as a unit, Hawkeye and Havoc disagreed on tactics, Falman kept piping in with more information than necessary, Breda was too easy going and let the others walk all over him, and Fuery hunkered down like a child whose parents were fighting.

It felt wrong to go to Hughes for help, but Hughes had a way of forming tight-knit groups with ease. While Roy could say his team members trusted him, they certainly did not trust each other.

“Yes, exactly,” Roy said.

“It can take time,” Hughes said. “But you could try some team building exercises?”

“Is that what you do?”

Hughes was muffled for a minute. It sounded like he was kissing Gracia. Again. Roy sighed. The man was impossibly shameless.

“Ah, yes, that’s what I do. Something that loosens them up—you have to get them comfortable with one another.”

“Can you be more specific?”

More suspicious giggling and kissing noises again. “I dunno, play a game. Have a friendly competition?”

A team building exercise. Roy was going to have to sit on that one.

Another giggle. “And that’s my cue, you crazy exhibitionist! Goodnight!” Roy yelled, hanging up the phone forcefully.

 *

 A couple weeks later, Roy had almost forgotten about Hughes’s idea. The office was silent except for the quiet hum of his officers at work. Then Hawkeye excused herself, and suddenly the men were talking and joking. Oh. His intimidating lieutenant. The men were afraid of her.

He couldn’t blame them. Hadn’t she terrified him a little even as a young girl? She’d always been a little too serious, watchful and quiet. But of everyone in his team, he trusted her the most. Maybe he should consider Hughes’s idea again. He wanted them all to trust her as much as he did, and see the fun side of her that made him like her so much.

Then he tuned into what his men were actually saying.

“And you’d just had sex the night before? What’s wrong with you?” Falman said, laughing.

“It’s relaxing!” Havoc insisted. “It’s a daily ritual kind of thing. Takes the edge off.”

“Daily? I can manage once a week, easy, especially with a woman in my life,” Falman insisted.

Breda chuckled. “I’m not like Havoc, but I prefer more often, even with a girlfriend helping me out.”

“See, Breda supports me!”

“I still wouldn’t be doing it the morning after a night with my girlfriend!” Breda said, slapping the desk and laughing boisterously.

Roy’s brow furrowed. Were they talking about what he thought?

“I don’t think I’ve been able to go more than a week since I hit puberty,” Havoc said. “I’m a healthy young man.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Roy finally interrupted.

“Havoc’s girlfriend—now ex-girlfriend—walked in on him…you know,” Fuery offered, his face bright red.

Roy snorted, happy to ignore his paperwork to tease Havoc. “What? You forget how to lock a door?”

Havoc turned red. “It was early in the morning! I thought she was asleep.”

“Clearly, she awoke frustrated. Did you even take care of her needs, Havoc?” Roy couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“I always leave my woman satisfied,” Havoc growled.

“Maybe if you weren’t molesting yourself every day, you’d have more passion for your girlfriend,” Breda pointed out. “Pace yourself, man.”

“I could go without it if I needed to. You all would crack long before me if it were a contest.” Havoc crossed his arms, the picture of perfect confidence.

“You think so?” a feminine voice challenged.

Hawkeye stood in the doorway, her face expressionless.

“How long have you been standing there, lieutenant?” Roy asked, noting he wasn’t the only man in the office vainly attempting to play it cool. While Hawkeye was as good a soldier as anyone, probably better, this kind of crude conversation always starkly reminded everyone she was a woman as much as a soldier.

Hawkeye strolled over to her desk. “Long enough to know I shouldn’t set Havoc up with any of my friends.”

The men guffawed and cheered, except for Havoc who collapsed on his desk. And that’s when Roy realized he had an opportunity.

“Why don’t we make a…competition of it?” Roy said, standing up like he was going to give orders. “A…team building exercise, if you will.” His eyes drifted to Hawkeye, giving her a meaningful look that he hoped conveyed: back me up on this or else.

“What do you mean, sir?” Hawkeye asked, everything from her eyebrow to her stiff shoulders giving away her heavy skepticism.

“Who can hold out the longest?” Roy said, tapping his chin. “Havoc has made quite the challenge to the rest of us.”

Havoc sat up straight. “I could definitely outlast all of you. I am a disciplined sniper.”

“So is Hawkeye,” Falman said.

“Is Hawkeye participating?” Fuery asked, his cheeks now the color of a strawberry.

This was just more evidence Hughes was right. The team needed to get more comfortable with one another—particularly with their lone female officer. They needed to fear who Hawkeye was as a soldier, not as a woman.

Roy turned to his lieutenant, gesturing for her to answer. All eyes were on her. She gave Roy a steely look before rolling her eyes. “Sure, I’m in.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Is that fair?” Havoc asked. “Women can naturally hold out longer than men.”

Roy told himself not to think about how often Hawkeye was pleasuring herself as he answered.

“All right, not holding out the longest, but who can hold out until a certain date,” he amended.

“How long?” Breda asked. “And does sex count?”

Roy began to pace the floor, his mind flowing with ideas. He was going to have to make up a chart. And they needed strict rules. It could be very unofficially official. Hughes would be proud.

“Sex will count. What seems a reasonable goal?” he asked, tossing the problem out for his team to solve. He could admit he was more like Breda and indulged himself several times a week. The idea of holding out for more than a week sounded like a small torture, but just a week wouldn’t be challenging enough.

“Two weeks,” Havoc proposed.

“Two weeks? What a flimsy challenge,” Falman said. “I’ll crush you.”

“Three?” Fuery suggested, though he made a face as he said it.

Breda looked around, studying his teammates and superior officer with a critical gaze. Roy wondered if he was sizing up the competition. Roy was already sweating at the idea of two weeks. Three would be unbearable.

“Three sounds reasonable,” Falman agreed.

“But perhaps a tad too easy,” Breda said, rubbing his hand over his short hair. “A month would be a challenge for everyone, wouldn’t it?” Gazes flickered to Hawkeye, who sat primly with her hands folded on her desk, like this was any old team meeting. She would destroy them all.

“A month it is,” Roy said.

“What do we get if we win?” Hawkeye asked, still diplomatic. Her lips pulled into a tiny smile. “It needs to be worth the trouble, right? But not so much that anyone would be tempted to cheat.”

“So money’s out,” Breda said decisively, and the others agreed with surprising speed. A soldier’s pension was laughably meager, especially for anyone lower on the totem pole. Roy knew he was fortunate to have a state alchemist’s funding, but it had come with strings attached.

“I’ve got it!” Roy said, grinning. “We have two teams. And we do it for the honor of winning.”

“That could work,” Hawkeye said thoughtfully.

Then began a debate that lasted twenty minutes on who would be on which team. Everyone wanted to be on Hawkeye’s team, but the competition needed to be as strong as possible. Based purely on personality, rather than any real data, it was finally decided that Mustang’s team would have Falman and Breda, while Hawkeye’s opposing team included Fuery and Havoc. If she thought it was unfair, she didn’t say so.

 #

 Riza thought the entire competition was unfair. She knew what her ridiculous superior was thinking. The men were uncomfortable with her, and her participating in their stupid contest would help. Maybe it would, maybe it wouldn’t, but she was annoyed.

Perhaps she was different from other women because she touched herself every night to help her fall asleep. It started a few months after returning from Ishval when she discovered her nightmares improved if she relaxed with happy—dirty—thoughts before bed.

But she was a disciplined sniper, she could hold off for a month. She just didn’t want to.

She slipped into the t-shirt she wore to bed and then did a few stretches she’d read would help her maintain her mobility despite the extensive scarring on her back. The tightness of her skin across those two patches had become as normal as the tug of her hair clips, but she needed to have full motion whenever she acted as Mustang’s bodyguard.

She finished with a few last neck stretches before she rolled into bed, turning off the lamp before she snuggled under the covers. Realizing this would be the last time to touch herself until the competition ended, she decided to take more time with it than she usually would. Tugging her underwear down, she slipped one hand between her thighs, the other hand crept underneath her shirt.

If she were honest with herself, she wanted to replay Mustang’s passionate, definitely inappropriate, brainstorming session. How he could sound so calm and professional while discussing masturbation in front of his team, she didn’t know, but even with the almost clinical nature of it, she’d felt warm and achy listening to him speak.

She wondered if he was a dirty talker in the bedroom, and she found herself falling over the edge much too quickly, thinking of what he might whisper against her ear while he thrusted in and out of her.

With a pleased sigh, she wriggled her underwear back into place and fell immediately into a deep sleep.

 #

 The next morning at the office, Riza was horrified to find a chalkboard had been rolled into the room. Mustang’s sharp handwriting had filled in a surprisingly vague chart with two columns for each team. Beside each team member’s name was a place to mark them out. At the bottom of the chart he’d written out the end date in bold lettering. She pressed her lips together. Thirty days had never seemed so long.

But as the men started arriving, she put on her poker face. She had to pretend this wasn’t a hardship whatsoever.

There was very little discussion about the competition. The first day should be a breeze, so no one expected anyone to crack so soon. They had a meeting about a possible money laundering case coming from Grumman, which would be a great opportunity to prove themselves as an efficient new team. Then Riza left for a committee on recruitment she attended as Mustang’s representative. It was such a humdrum, typical day that by the time work was over, she almost forgot about the competition entirely. She went to the library, cooked dinner, called Rebecca to chat, began reading one of the books she borrowed…

It wasn’t until she was dressing for bed that she remembered. She groaned, flopping onto the bed in frustration. The fact she shouldn’t touch herself just made her want to even more. Cursing Mustang under her breath, she turned off the lamp and lay stiffly in the dark, failing to relax.

It was hours later before she finally fell asleep.

 #

 The second day of the competition and Roy already had regrets. He woke up with an erection, as often happened in the mornings, but this time he had to wait for the damn thing to go away on its own.

His regrets grew when Falman came into the office, red-faced and staring at the ground. He strode straight to the chalkboard and drew an X beside his name.

“What! You’re already out?” Havoc crowed.

“Really, Falman, I’m disappointed in you,” Roy said, shaking his head. Now it was just him and Breda. “Do you at least have a good excuse?”

Falman saluted. “The new neighbor next to my apartment must have had her boyfriend over, sir. She was…very loud and enthusiastic.”

Roy grimaced. “Dismissed.” He could understand why a man would be tempted, but with his discipline as a soldier being tested…it was disappointing. He glanced over at Hawkeye and Havoc who were sharing a laugh—probably at Falman’s expense.

Falman was at his desk, determinedly reading a report. Roy look over at Breda who raised a fist in solidarity. Just the two of them against Hawkeye, Havoc, and Fuery. It was going to be a long month.

 #

 By day seven, Roy spent every morning talking down his erection, and giving himself quick, cold showers. The temptation was growing intolerable. What kind of stupid team building exercise was this! Certainly the dumbest idea he’d ever had. Rather than fostering teamwork, everyone, except Falman, was snappy and irritable. Even Hawkeye, which Roy found wonderfully intriguing. No, he definitely couldn’t spend time dwelling on that can of worms.

“I’m going to the shooting range if anyone wants to join me,” Hawkeye announced suddenly. “Havoc, Fuery,” her lips curved upward, “A gun is a good way to…release some tension.”

Chairs squeaked and knocked around as the men dropped everything to join her, everyone laughing as Falman waved them off good-naturedly. The smug bastard.

Hawkeye was fierce on the shooting range, only Havoc coming close to her level—and still well below it. Roy took a turn, but found himself stepping back to watch as the men cheered and clapped whenever she hit another seemingly impossible target. Roy knew Hawkeye took little pride in her skill after the war, but it was good for the men to respect her ability. Judging by the way young Fuery gaped in amazement, maybe the team building exercise wasn’t a total bust.

Roy stayed quiet on their walk back to the office, listening to the men pepper her with questions. Hawkeye answered them succinctly, without boasting, about her skills and how she had honed them growing up shooting cans and one time, a rather rotten pumpkin.

Roy remembered the pumpkin story as her father had told it, and he noted that Hawkeye didn’t mention him—or Roy for that matter. It gave him pause. Did she not want the men knowing of their history? He supposed as his subordinate, she probably preferred to put forward her merits rather than her connections. Funny, because Roy would never have become a state alchemist without her, and he likewise kept that a secret—for different reasons.

 #

 Riza was exhausted, which she would’ve thought would help her fall asleep. Instead, she tossed and turned, body restless. As soon as she found the edge of sleep, she jerked awake.

“Mustang, you idiot,” she groaned, punching her pillow. She couldn’t lose this competition, even if it meant a month of sleep deprivation. Twisted in her sheets, she was oh-so-tempted to give in, especially as she remembered the way Mustang had removed his jacket at the shooting range, only his white button-up shirt on. Thank goodness she was already at the range, she had had a lot of tension to release.

Punching her pillow again, she gave up an turned on the light, pulling out a book. She read until she passed out.

 #

 Riza wasn’t the only one on edge that night, and in the morning Havoc did the walk of shame to the chalkboard, scribbling an angry X beside his name.

Mustang hadn’t arrived yet, it was just Hawkeye and Fuery.

“What happened?” Fuery asked. Hawkeye noticed he was gnawing his fingernails raw.

Havoc covered his eyes dramatically. “My girlfriend wanted me back. How could I say no after—after—”

“Oh we all know after what,” Hawkeye said darkly. “I’m sure you lasted two seconds.”

“Hawkeye!” Havoc gasped, appalled.

Fuery collapsed on his desk, giggling helplessly.

“You deserve it,” she said. “Some of us are still suffering.”

“Come on, are you really suffering?” Havoc asked sarcastically.

Riza crossed her arms, giving him a hard look. This could really backfire on her.

She sighed, giving an embarrassed shrug as she focused on the notes in front of her. “I…use it to relax and fall asleep.” A timely yawn escaped her.

Havoc and Fuery each looked equally incredulous.

“Hawkeye! You were supposed to be a sure thing!” Havoc moaned. “We can’t lose to the boss!”

“You’re the one who claimed to have so much restraint and brought this whole thing down on us,” she reminded him.

“That is true,” Fuery agreed.

“Well, you could’ve worked your Hawkeye magic and talked him out of it,” Havoc muttered.

“I don’t have magic. If I did, the lieutenant colonel would get his work done more efficiently,” she said, feeling flattered despite herself. “And don’t worry. I have no intention of losing.”

Suddenly Havoc gawked at her. “Damn, you do look really tired. How—how often do you use it to sleep?”

Hawkeye realized she wouldn’t get any work done until she answered.

 #

 “Every night!” Havoc’s outburst was the first thing Roy heard as he walked in the door. He almost dropped the files he’d been carrying.

“Shh!” Hawkeye and Fuery frantically shushed, and Roy was immediately suspicious.

“What’s every night?” he asked. He was already on edge. It felt like once an hour his cock was at half mast, but hell if he was going to lose so quickly.

“Just talking about Havoc and his failure as a disciplined soldier,” Hawkeye said smoothly. Her eyes were playful, but Havoc looked betrayed—no, overwhelmed. Hawkeye was a good liar. Havoc was not.

Deciding to pursue it later, he set to work. The money laundering case was their first big assignment, and they needed it to go smoothly. Grumman had given him an early morning briefing, plus a stack of files, with instruction to investigate as Roy saw fit. Any other time, he would’ve been positively gleeful—except for the fact his mood was apparently controlled by his dick.

After teasing Havoc mercilessly, Roy settled down at his desk, plotting how to end this competition. None of them would have to go for the full month if one team gave up first. But of course, Mustang had too much pride. He didn’t want to purposefully lose.

He’d just have to figure out how to crack his adjutant, whose mood had been notably altered by the competition, too. Maybe she wasn’t an insurmountable challenge after all.

Fuery would be easy.

 #

 “This is for you,” Fuery said, dropping a packet of papers on Riza’s desk. His cheeks were red, and he spoke very tersely.

Riza looked at the packet closer and saw there was a note scribbled on top: THESE ARE SAFER WITH YOU. FOUND THEM IN MY DESK AFTER LUNCH. I THINK WE ARE BEING SABOTAGED.

Riza picked up the packet and realized it was actually a selection of raunchy photographs of mostly nude female models. She narrowed her eyes, her gaze drifting over the men of the office. It was rather obvious what was happening. Mustang and Breda were struggling, and they wanted Hawkeye and Fuery to go out first. And young Fuery was hanging on by a hair. She couldn’t guess what they thought would work on her. She did a quick search of her desk, not finding any naked pictures of men.

Well, she could play that game, too.

She wrote a quick note to Fuery, telling him to make an excuse and step out for a break. It was time to retaliate.

As soon as Fuery was gone, Riza shuffled the photos, clicking her tongue. She walked over to Mustang’s desk and fanned the photographs across his desk.

“This contraband has turned up in the office, sir,” she said. “Should I write up an official report and turn it in?”

Mustang’s dark eyes grew piercing. Ah, he hadn’t expected this. Good.

“I’m sure something as small as this isn’t worth your time to make a report about,” he said smoothly.

Riza nodded, watching from the corner of her eye as Falman paled. Yes, as she thought. Breda and Mustang wouldn’t go near any kind of temptation. They sent the man who was already out.

“It would be a long report,” she said agreeably. “I’d have to catalogue each photograph, describing each one. What if any of these women are soldiers? This could be blackmail.” She made a show of appearing conflicted. “I don’t think we should skip reporting this, sir.”

Mustang glowered. He knew she knew. He just didn’t want to back down.

“See this one?” she asked, pointing to one she’d left displayed most prominently. “Doesn’t she look a little like Private Jennison?” A young soldier whose breasts were so large, Riza pitied her a little. Jennison had to have all her uniforms specially tailored. But Riza also knew every man in East City’s military knew the woman by name.

“Who looks like Private Jennison?” Havoc asked eagerly.

Mustang tried to hide the photos too late as Havoc rushed over.

“Holy shit, these are amazing.” Havoc roared, grabbing the pictures. “These must be killing you, boss.”

Mustang tilted his face to the ceiling. “I am being punished for trying to strategize.”

“What?” Havoc looked between Riza and Mustang.

“Fuery found these in his desk after lunch.” Riza turned on her heel, smiling deviously at Falman and Breda.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Havoc said, studying the photos like they were critical pieces of evidence.

“The sooner it’s over for one team, the sooner it’s over for everyone,” Breda pointed out.

“Well, good luck getting me to crack,” she said, turning on her heel. “I doubt you two will even be able to hold out another week.”

 #

 Hawkeye was right. Roy and Breda were both reaching their limits. It was all well and good at work, but the minute he was alone…

Roy nodded at Breda as the other man walked out the door. Maybe he was taking this too seriously, but there was something tantalizing about getting Hawkeye to give in first.

A few minutes later Roy packed up, said goodnight to his adjutant who was furiously assembling some kind of information packet some higher ups had requested, and then he met up with Breda outside the building.

“What’d you find out?” Roy asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Hawkeye’s more vulnerable than we thought,” Breda said, chuckling. “Havoc could not resist telling me that she—she does it every night. To go to sleep, apparently.” Breda covered another laugh, slightly awkward and uncomfortable. “I can hardly believe it.”

Roy understood the feeling. Every night? He wanted to shout, just like Havoc. While he knew women could be very sexual—he’d grown up in a bar where pretty women entertained men for a living—he hadn’t seen Hawkeye that way. He’d always seen her as a woman he would need to coax an orgasm from, kiss her blush away as he slowly undressed her…

He’d thought about it so many times, and now…the reality was threatening to overcome his self-control. He wanted nothing more than to take this information home and stroke himself until he came, thinking of his gorgeous lieutenant touching herself.

“Maybe we should strategize over a drink?” Roy offered.

Because he really needed a damn drink.

 #

 The next Monday, Roy arrived an hour late to the office. He’d stayed awake pouring over the money laundering case—he suspected a local paint supplier had something to do with it. They might need to do an overnight search of their warehouse, which was much larger than a business of their size required.

All thoughts of the case evaporated as he saw two more had been knocked out of the competition. Hawkeye’s name was still blank.

“Still holding out, sir?” she asked.

“Yes, I didn’t get this promotion without a good dose of discipline, you know.”

Fuery and Havoc groaned as Breda and Falman cheered.

“You got this, boss!” Breda said.

“You think you can last the whole month?” Hawkeye challenged.

Roy grinned. “What about you, lieutenant? You look…tired.”

Her eyes widened before she quickly recovered. “Nothing a little coffee won’t fix,” she said, holding up a cup. “But you don’t have anything keeping you…up at night, sir?”

She was a little bit evil, he decided.

“So insubordinate,” he said lightly, returning to his desk. “Breda, what the hell happened, man? You’re leaving me against the lieutenant by myself?”

Breda saluted, then hung his head, even as he laughed at himself. “I got a little too drunk and forgot about the competition. I will do everything I can to support you, sir. Our honor as men is at stake.”

Mustang covered his face with his hands.

“And you, Fuery?”

“Do I have to say?” he moaned, slumping pathetically against his desk.

“Of course not,” Roy said amiably. “We are all entitled to our privacy. Uh, or as much as a game like this allows.”

“I bet he was done in by Private Jennison. Damn, she was about to bust out of her—” Havoc cut himself off, giving a sheepish look to Hawkeye.

“Probably best not to bring it up—even though she totally was, poor girl,” Hawkeye said, shaking her head. “She’s actually a very good soldier, and she struggles for anyone to see beyond her—endowments.”

Roy shared a look with his adjutant. Hawkeye’s skills as a soldier were unmissable, but she had to rise better than the best of the men to earn the respect of their superiors. It was harder being a woman in the military, and in ways Roy often didn’t notice.

“I guess it’s like how no one can see past my handsome face,” Havoc said, fluttering his eyelashes. Hawkeye aimed a rubber band at his back. “Ow!”

“If you had real discipline, you could’ve dodged it,” she said, swiftly blocking his retaliation with a folder.

Roy would’ve thought that Hawkeye was truly unbothered by the competition, that he had no hope of winning, until he saw her leave for the shooting range again. While she kept her skills sharp, it was unheard of for her to go on Mondays when they were usually busiest.

He rested his chin on his hand, he was going to need to have another meeting with Breda and Falman.

 #

 “Uh, so why are we meeting here?” Fuery asked, peering around the smoky, crowded bar with suspicion.

Havoc released a puff of his own smoke, eyeing some of the beautiful waitresses bringing drinks. “Isn’t this the place Mustang likes?”

Riza smiled. “Oh, the same one. I’m sure he’s brought you all here before, right?” She knew her superior well. He trusted these men, and if he had their trust, they must have been vetted by Madame Christmas’s girls. While Chris operated out of central, she had girls posted at bars around the country. With Roy in East City, she had sent one of his favorite “sisters” to watch out for him.

“He brought you here, Hawkeye?” Fuery choked out. “If my mother knew I was here, she’d skin me alive!”

“I’ve been here a time or two,” Riza said casually, waving Vanessa over.

“Elizabeth!” Vanessa squealed, and she dropped practically into Riza’s lap to hug her. “What are you doing here?” She looked to Fuery and Havoc. “Are you two-timing my brother?”

Riza laughed, fighting a blush. She hoped they didn’t know Vanessa meant Mustang. Vanessa and all the other girls had been teasing them since the first time Mustang brought her to Madame Christmas’s bar in Central—not long after he’d burned the array off her back. The girls kept up the teasing probably because Mustang had squawked at them not to scare her off.

“These are some of Mustang’s other men—Jean Havoc and Kain Fuery.” Riza put her hand to Vanessa’s ear. “We need some dirt on the Flame Alchemist.” She pulled back, forcing a giggle the way Vanessa and the other girls had taught her.

“Oh, you are bad,” Vanessa said. “Want some drinks before we chat?”

Riza nodded. “Put it on you-know-who’s tab.”

“You have gotten positively cheeky,” Vanessa said, slipping off behind the bar.

Havoc and Fuery turned to Riza, both patiently awaiting an explanation.

“Vanessa and the girls have mentored me in the art of…persuasion.” Riza couldn’t think of a better word for it. “I go by Elizabeth here.”

“Is that your full name?” Fuery asked.

“No.” It was her middle name. “But Vanessa might have some ideas on how to get one over on our boss. He’s probably plotting something—and we need to try and get a step ahead of him if we can.”

Havoc stubbed out his cigarette. “Yeah, he didn’t seem bothered by those photos at all. Is he even human?”

“It’s been almost three weeks. I was dying at one,” Fuery confessed.

Vanessa returned to the table with drinks, and she genuinely laughed as the three of them explained their predicament.

“So this is for the pride of women everywhere, is it?” Vanessa concluded.

“And these two,” Riza added, sipping her cocktail.

“Hmm, Roy is a tricky one,” Vanessa said. “He’s been taught to ignore the usual ploys girls use.”

“So you’re saying he’s immune to the obvious feminine charms?” Havoc said glumly.

Vanessa nodded. “I truly believe a woman could strip naked in front of him and he wouldn’t bat an eye.”

“Even after weeks of…abstaining?” Riza asked, feeling a little desperate. She was wound up with tension, and so, so tired. Another nine days of sleeplessness—no. She had to crack him.

“I couldn’t say,” Vanessa said. “But when he sets his mind to do something, he does it.”

“Well, I suppose a stalemate is almost as good as winning, right?” Fuery offered weakly.

Vanessa shook her head. “Winning is always better. I do adore Roy, but—” She hugged Riza tightly. “We have a sisterhood. Now come with me, I’m going to tell you something the boys can’t overhear.”

Vanessa played up the girly act, giggling and holding Riza’s hand as they darted through the dimly lit bar.

Vanessa led them to a private room in the back, finally dropping the giggling act, though even without it Vanessa was a very cheery person. She flopped on a loveseat, tossing her hair back.

“You and my brother are almost painful to watch. He came by earlier. Said he needed to know how to drive a woman mad with lust without doing it himself.”

Riza blanched. “He what?”

“That tells me he’s very close to his own limits. He wouldn’t come begging for advice from me otherwise.” She smirked. “It also makes sense why he wouldn’t tell me any more detail than that. I wouldn’t have helped him!”

Feeling encouraged that Mustang was reaching the end of his rope, Riza was back to business. “So what did you tell him? I need to prepare for whatever he’s going to try to do.”

Vanessa—carefree, shameless Vanessa—blushed. “I had no idea he meant you, okay? Remember that.” She sucked in a breath. “I told him to…take you for a bumpy drive. Or anything else that might…stimulate things.” She erupted in giggles.

“He’s a terrible driver!”

“A perfect excuse, I told him,” Vanessa said, snorting into her hands.

“I’m only doing this stupid competition because he wants me to get along better with the men on the team,” Riza said, feeling cross. “I haven’t slept properly since it began, and now it’s just that idiot between me and a good night’s sleep. I need to crack him.”

“Maybe that’s all you need to do,” Vanessa said thoughtfully. “Tell him just how much you are dying for it. His noble self won’t be able to resist. Especially if you play it up like Elizabeth would,” she finished, wiggling her eyebrows.

“I could never do that.”

“Why not? It could work!”

“Because—he’s my superior.” It sounded flimsy when she put it that way.

“Your superior who started a very questionable competition that could get you all a court martial.”

She had a point. “Well…I’ll sleep on it.” Or not sleep, as usual.

 #

 The next morning, armed with extra strong coffee, Riza confronted her superior. She wanted him to squirm. She leaned on his desk, taking a small sip of the terrible coffee from the break room. Conveniently, the other men had left to finish preparations for the money laundering case.

“I can’t believe you went to Vanessa for advice,” she said, hoping she sounded like the scolding adjutant she aimed to be.

Mustang threw his pen down. “What? She told you?”

Riza let him stew for a few moments longer than she should have. “Yes. Because I also went to her for advice.”

His eyes narrowed. “What did she tell you?”

“She told me to prey on your more noble nature,” she said, adding the lilting tones of Elizabeth. “Please, sir, I need to sleep. I’m tossing and turning all night, so tense—”

His hands slammed down on the desk.

“Lieutenant, that won’t work,” he said. Riza’s heart pounded in her chest. She was very sure it was working. His breathing had subtly picked up—and he had shifted forward in his chair very deliberately.

She couldn’t call him out on it though. It seemed…unsporting. “Well then, don’t even think of offering me a ride anywhere, sir.”

He spluttered, avoiding her gaze. “I wasn’t going to!”

She threw her head back and laughed before returning to her desk, waiting for the others to arrive before she deployed her next tactic.

 #

 Roy was in trouble. If Hawkeye had gone to Vanessa for advice, Hawkeye would know a little too accurately how to take him down. Hawkeye was the only girl he’d ever brought to the bar, and during some of the “lessons” the girls did with her had been far too effective on him—and Vanessa knew it, even if Hawkeye hadn’t picked up on it at the time. And Vanessa knew they were only so effective because it was Riza Hawkeye teasing and flirting with him.

He avoided looking at her as he discreetly adjusted himself beneath his desk. Under normal circumstances when he wasn’t a few strokes away from losing his pride as an officer, ignoring her was easy. It was a protective habit to see her as a soldier and friend, nothing more.

Now he saw her as he once did when she was nothing more than his teacher’s daughter: a forbidden fantasy.

His life would be simpler if he just gave in, bowed to his lieutenant’s stronger discipline. But some embarrassing part of him wanted to go longer—show her that he was more than capable of holding off. As long as he needed to.

Roy reined himself in, forcing himself to do another once over of his formal request to search the warehouse of the paint supplier. He was quite pleased with the details Hawkeye had added. Grumman would surely approve. Deciding it was good enough, Roy passed the form off to Hawkeye who promptly left to deliver it to Grumman’s office without even a teasing word. Suspicious.

The other men trickled in, and Havoc walked in especially smug. Roy’s suspicions grew.

“Boss, I had a question for you. I was chatting with my girlfriend about our competition,” Havoc began. Roy put on a purposefully disinterested look. “She’s rooting for Hawkeye, obviously, but she wondered if under the conditions set, if they weren’t a bit sexist.”

“Oh?” Roy asked.

“Well, a woman can have sex without orgasming—it’s just a matter of biology, isn’t it? So if Hawkeye wanted to have some fun without the satisfaction, so to speak, couldn’t she do that?”

He heard Fuery strangle a laugh.

“Just as much as any of us could, I guess,” Roy said flatly.

“I’ll be sure to pass that on to Hawkeye, sir,” Havoc said.

Roy sighed. “Don’t blame me if she shoots you.”

He wanted to shoot Havoc himself. Roy knew what the bastard was doing—and Hawkeye probably had something to do with it. Because what Elizabeth had been taught was to seduce with suggestion. Now Roy was thinking about her, wanting to feel wrapped around her while she came apart. It felt like a whole other challenge, making her come in the middle of sex. He wondered if any of her lovers had managed it before. He suspected not. They didn’t have the restraint Roy did.

Roy dropped his head to his desk, indifferent to how it looked. He was ready to walk to the bathroom and have one off like a horny teenager.

“Boss, no!” Breda said. “Be strong! This is about our honor as men—as soldiers!”

“Havoc, that was cold,” Falman said.

Havoc shook his head. “The sooner this is over, the sooner Hawkeye stops breathing down my neck about my overdue work. She’s much more vicious lately.” He shuddered.

“Forget this, I need—I need to step out,” Roy said, gathering what was left of his dignity and standing to leave. He didn’t care. It had been almost three weeks. He hadn’t gone this long since the war.

“Falman! Plan B!” Breda yelled.

Falman jumped from his desk, a bucket materializing from behind it.

Abruptly, Roy was drenched in cold water.

“What the hell?” he snarled, turning to Falman who was still holding the empty bucket.

“Sir!” And of course Hawkeye would appear, and while her face gave away nothing, her eyes were definitely laughing at him. “What happened?”

The men couldn’t explain over their laughter. Roy slicked his hair back with a wet palm. “Plan B, that’s all, lieutenant.”

“Well, you are useless when wet,” Hawkeye said, dropping her eyes respectfully to the floor.

“Insubordinate, disloyal monsters,” Roy grumbled under his breath, taking his soaked jacket off and tossing it at Falman. The jacket had taken the brunt of the attack and droplets sprayed across the room. “Find me a dry shirt, Falman!” Typically he would ask Hawkeye, but he was trying not to look at her at the moment. His erection had finally retreated, but he wasn’t risking anything yet.

Falman went digging in the closet where they kept odds and ends—such as extra shirts—and appeared with a clean, dry shirt. Without thinking, Roy began to unbutton his current one to change.

“Avert your eyes, Hawkeye!” Havoc hollered, and Roy looked up to see the man diving in front of Hawkeye who had been waiting in front of Roy’s desk expectantly. Holding the search warrant, he realized. It had been approved!

“What are you doing?” Hawkeye yelped, as Havoc covered her eyes with his hands.

“I think their Plan B is to seduce you with the lieutenant colonel’s abs. What’s he doing just stripping in front of a female officer so boldly!”

Roy felt a flush creep up his neck. He’d thought nothing of changing in front of her.

“Havoc, what do you know about my abs?” he asked, diverting attention from himself.

“Don’t change the subject,” Havoc said, still trying to cover Hawkeye’s eyes as she struggled to bat him away without dropping the paperwork in her arms.

“Stop being stupid!” she said, elbowing him hard enough to release her. “I have the approval from General Grumman, but he insisted we go tonight. We have arrangements to make, so stop clowning around!” Thoroughly scolded, Havoc hurried to his desk, while Roy changed in record time.

As the team went to work, Roy noticed something—they were arguing less. Breda was consulting with Havoc while Fuery and Falman bounced ideas off Hawkeye. Maybe the team building had done more than frustrate the hell out of them. There was a comfort between them that had been absent before. And at the end of the day when Hawkeye fell asleep sitting straight in her chair, Havoc picked up her work and continued where she left off.

 #

 Like clockwork, the team’s search of the warehouse began. Havoc covered Breda while he searched the office, and Falman watched over the entrance. Fuery was stationed with the communication system up the hill from the warehouse, connected to Falman so they could be forewarned of any activity outside the building. Roy and Hawkeye would search the rest of the warehouse. If anything looked hidden or questionable, Roy wanted to be able to use his alchemy to flush it out.

The warehouse was an out of the way building with little security. If they were hiding something here, they weren’t concerned it would be found. The rows of shelving before Roy and Hawkeye looked perfectly ordinary in the small amount of light illuminating the room.

“There’s a strong…chemical smell,” Hawkeye said. He didn’t need to see her to know she was wrinkling her nose.

“Yes, I think it’s paint thinner.” No flames then. He tucked his gloves away. “Let’s split up. You go left, I go right. Meet in the middle?”

“Got it, sir.”

Gradually, Roy wound his way through the aisles, occasionally inspecting things physically. Across the silent room it was easy to hear Hawkeye doing the same. He was beginning to think the area was a dead end when he noticed some unusual etchings on the ground at the bottom of a shelf. Instincts coming alive, he started emptying the shelf of heavy buckets. And there it was, a secret entrance. The grip to pull the floorboards up was nothing more than a divot in the concrete floor.

“Oy! Hawkeye, come here!”

She was at his side in moments. “That looks promising,” she said mildly. “You want to do the honors?”

Roy nodded, squatting and heaving the slab up on its side. “Shit, that was heavy,” he grunted. He turned on his flashlight and was rewarded with the sight of a few dozen bars of gold, stacked in neat little rows inside the hidden pocket beneath the floor. Gold he was certain the company had not claimed as income that year.

“Perfect,” he said, dropping onto his stomach to see if anything else had been hidden with the gold.

“Careful, sir,” Hawkeye said. “Maybe let me look. I’m smaller.”

“You’re right,” he said, shuffling backward. The way the shelves were, he couldn’t even stand on his knees without hitting his head.

Once he was out of the way, Hawkeye wriggled under the shelf, and Roy couldn’t stop himself from watching her behind. He loved when she dressed down for assignments like these. The uniform was so boxy, it was difficult to make out her curves. Not that he should be wanting to check out his subordinate, but it was inevitable.

“Huh, there might be a stack of papers stuck under one of these stacks, but it’s too heavy for me to move like this.” She dropped to her stomach. “Can you come hold the flashlight?”

Roy squeezed in beside her—and promptly kicked over a tin can.

“Shit! What is that!” he hissed as something cold and wet soaked through his shirt. “Not again!” And it smelled very potent.

“What did you knock over?” Hawkeye asked, turning on her side. “It reeks!”

“I think some paint thinner,” he admitted, scrambling to turn the can upright. Stupid thing definitely hadn’t been secured properly.

Then suddenly it was like Hawkeye couldn’t escape fast enough.

“Oh no. Uhh, sir! It’s burning!” she gasped, almost a whimper.

Roy took action. He grabbed her arm and hauled her out. “There was a washing area this way,” he said, practically dragging her to where’d he’d seen it.

The corner he’d seen had a drain and a basic hose for washing up paint spills, he suspected. There were buckets and mops littering the area, but he haphazardly kicked them out of the way.

“How much did you get on you?” he asked her. The smell was thick in his nose, but that was probably his own clothes stinking up the place. And shit, it was really starting to burn. What kind of chemicals did they use?

“All down my side,” she said tightly.

“Here, you rinse first,” he said, turning on the hose. He turned to pass it to her and almost dropped it. He was the luckiest man alive, covered in paint thinner, but still the luckiest man alive, because there was Riza Hawkeye stripping in front of him. He only got a quick glimpse before he averted his eyes, but he’d seen toned muscles and curves—and a plain black bra that was unduly sexy.

He didn’t have long to savor the sight before the skin irritation began to override everything else. He searched around for soap, trying not to look at the lieutenant. He swallowed. She had stripped down to her bra and underwear and she was dripping with cold water…

Burning skin brought him back to reality again. He found some soap and offered it to her blindly while looking off in the other direction.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

Roy busied himself taking off his shirt—the same one he’d changed into earlier in the office, so at least it wasn’t one of his good shirts.

“Sir, you can share the water with me,” she said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “It’s best to wash it off as quickly as you can. I’ll lather myself up while you rinse off.”

“I—uh—should probably—"

“Do what you have to do,” she said, answering his question before he could fumble for the words.

He willed his erection to behave as he took a deep breath and undid the button on his pants.

 #

 Riza wished the water was a bit colder—something to remind her that she was in the middle of a stealth assignment with her superior officer, not half naked with a very attractive man. Why was he so muscular anyway?”

She felt him step closer, the heat of him radiating against her side. She let herself look at him briefly as she passed him the hose. His face was dark and tense, but he gave nothing else away, concentrating on washing himself.

Her eyes dropped lower, skimming down the lean muscles of his chest, darting quickly to the very prominent tent in his boxers. They were already wet from the cold water, and the cloth clung suggestively to his erection.

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and returned to cleaning the chemicals off. Her side was pink where the chemicals had soaked through her clothes—her hip and thigh had taken the worst of it. There was no room for lustful thoughts when they’d made a mess of an otherwise very simple investigation. Already she wasn’t sure how they were going to explain this to the others.

After she had passed the soap to him while she rinsed hers off, he finally said something.

“The scarring doesn’t look as bad as I expected,” he whispered. “It’s healed well.”

Self-consciously, instinctively, she twirled to hide her back from him. It was a mistake. Now she was a few inches from him, looking up into his regretful dark eyes. All she wanted to do was close the gap and kiss him. Her hand clenched tightly on the hose as she talked herself down from doing anything foolish. He was her superior officer, and they both had goals more important than whatever feelings simmered between them.

“Don’t forget what relief those scars bring me,” she said. “I can see you torturing yourself about it again.”

He sighed. “That’s not the only thing torturing me.” He grabbed the hose from her, letting the water wash away the cheap soap he’d found. Her eyes were drawn below his waist again, this time unable to stop herself from inspecting the impressive bulge. She shivered, goosebumps dancing across her skin.

“You’re staring, lieutenant,” he said, his voice husky.

She had no excuse. “I was just wondering how much longer you’ll be able to last,” she said, summoning her courage. She thought about what Vanessa had told her. “The sooner you give in…the sooner I can, too. And I am so tired, sir. It really is the only thing that helps me sleep.”

“So you’re saying, as your superior, it’s my duty to lose this competition so you can sleep? Because…” He paused to look her over, and boldly, she let him. She was proud of her body—it was strong and capable. “You’ll get more work done if I do, right?”

“I’m really at my best when I’m well rested,” she agreed, the words coming out breathless as she watched his hand dip down into his underwear, somehow managing to grab his cock without pushing the wet fabric out of the way. She wished fervently for a better view.

The moment he gave in to the first stroke, he let out a desperate, quiet moan. The relief of finally giving into it seemed to hit every part of him—his head fell back as the tension left his shoulders. And it was that word—relief—that brought to mind what she wanted to do for him.

“Sir,” she said, retreating to familiar patterns as she braved the unknown. “Permission to help give you some relief?” She dropped to her knees so there would be no mistaking her meaning.

In the dim light, there was nothing to see in his eyes but burning lust. “Please. Fuck. But I’m not going to last—” the rest was cut off in a gasp as she gently tugged his boxers out of the way, their hands lacing together across his cock as she held it steady and let her lips stretch across the head ever-so-slowly before she sucked him against her tongue, fighting not to gag as his hips thrust involuntarily forward. The taste of precum was salty and bitter on her tongue and told her this would be over too quickly. Strange, she’d never really wanted to spend much time like this with others, but with him…she wanted to worship him.

Shaky fingers traced across her hair and she allowed herself to look up at him. It humbled her, the look of trust and bliss across his face as he watched her movements intently. She wanted to smile. Instead, she swirled her tongue around his tip playfully, and listened to him groan as she focused on getting him to come.

She learned that when Roy Mustang came it was with the same quiet intensity he used while drawing arrays.

 #

 There was no time for awkward conversation because barely a moment after finishing washing up, Havoc and Breda came looking for them. Mustang immediately threw a tarp over Riza while he hurried off to explain the situation. Their laughter was short-lived, as Riza heard the muffled sound of Mustang barking orders at them.

He returned with Breda and Havoc—both of them shirtless, but Mustang was slipping on Breda’s shirt which was at least long enough to give him a bit more modesty. Riza dressed beneath the tarp, grateful that Havoc was tall enough that his shirt fell to a very modest length.

Even accounting for the paint thinner incident, the team managed to pull together all the evidence needed for a solid case to present to General Grumman.

Finished, they all packed into one car for the sake of being inconspicuous. As they all crowded in, there was a quiet moment where nothing was said.

“Maybe Fuery and Falman should take off an item of clothing each too. Just to be fair,” Havoc joked.

“And roll down the windows. That paint thinner smells poisonous!” Breda added.

The laughter from the team eased Riza’s nerves. No one had said an unprofessional word about her or her body, or the fact she and Mustang had been alone in their underwear.

Her thighs pressed together remembering the feel of him in her mouth, even as embarrassment flooded her. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been thinking. Weeks of poor sleep caught up to her. And Mustang had undoubtedly been on his last ounce of willpower.

It could never happen again.

She drove them back to their meetup point, anxious to get home and sleep. It was now past three in the morning. It wasn’t until she was trudging up the stairs to her apartment that a painful realization struck: she still couldn’t fall asleep her usual way. Her crutch was still out of reach. At work the next day, Mustang would have to mark himself out. It would raise the men’s suspicions too much if she marked herself out the same night. Especially after they’d spent the whole evening working late. She would have to wait until tomorrow night.

She cursed under her breath, deciding to take a long shower to wash the remaining smell of paint thinner away. It would be a cold, lonely shower.

 #

 Despite his exhaustion, Roy lay awake, torn between elation and guilt. Finally, finally he’d had a sample of what it would be like to be Riza Hawkeye’s lover. Of course, it happened in less than ideal conditions. He was so disoriented from his orgasm, he’d forgotten to so much as kiss her. He was a cad.

But he was dying to return the favor.

He toyed with the idea of leaving her alone, writing off the incident at the warehouse as the result of fumes and hormones. From what he knew of Hawkeye, she’d accept this without question. It would be the wisest choice. The idea also sent a wave of regret through him. He couldn’t stop this thing between them before it was even fully off the ground. Before he kissed her properly.

He decided to leave it in Hawkeye’s hands. She knew how to keep him on the right path better than himself. Though he might nudge her in the direction he desired.

 #

 The team assembled in the office slowly, all armed with coffee. Roy was the last to arrive, and upon seeing Hawkeye his mind immediately reminded him of how she had looked half naked and wet. Something about her proper, professional demeanor at the office made it so much hotter that he knew what amazing things she could do with her mouth. It was a dirty secret between them—and he loved it.

“Does anyone else still smell paint thinner?” Breda asked, stifling a yawn.

Roy strolled over to the chalkboard slowly, delaying the inevitable ribbing. “I’m pretty sure I’ve become desensitized to it,” he said.

“Me too,” Hawkeye said. “I think something was off about it, too. I looked at my shirt from last night and it seemed to be eating a hole through the fabric.”

Roy made a note to take a look at his own clothes when he went home.

He studied the chalkboard, brow creasing as he saw there was no mark beside Hawkeye’s name. Even after she knew he’d lost…

He drew the “X” with pride, knowing that he had lost this challenge the best possible way.

It took only a second for the team to notice. There was an immediate uproar.

“Our fallen leader,” Breda said, wiping a fake tear away.

“So what brought you down, boss?” Havoc asked slyly. His eyes flickered to Hawkeye. Havoc wasn’t stupid enough to say it out loud, but he knew Roy and Hawkeye had both been in their underwear—sharing a single hose with only moderate water pressure.

Roy had prepared an answer. “I just needed some…relief.”

The men all laughed, but Hawkeye crossed her arms and wore the smallest of smiles, ever the humble champion.

An idea came to Roy then.

“Now, by the rules of the competition, Hawkeye is the last one standing. But to truly win…maybe she should try to last the rest of the month.”

Her expression turned horrified for a fraction of a second before she smothered it.

“Really?” she asked flatly.

Havoc and Fuery each gave her nervous looks. Everyone was especially tired today, and Hawkeye was already tired.

“What, not sure you can hold off another week?” Roy asked lightly.

She clenched her jaw. “I can make it.”

Checkmate, Hawkeye.

 #

 Roy finally got a moment alone with Hawkeye on the way to a meeting together.

“So you really didn’t…indulge at all?” Roy asked lowly, trying to ignore the wilting of his pride. He reminded himself that women had moods, and just because a mood arrived, didn’t mean it lingered. While she’d definitely looked willing and debauched on her knees in the warehouse, she’d been all business the moment Breda and Havoc arrived.

And though he was awake for an hour replaying the vision of her mostly naked, it didn’t mean she was compelled to do the same.

“No. I didn’t want them to suspect something happened between us,” she said matter-of-factly.

Right. She was too honest to lie, even for a ridiculous team building exercise.

“I see,” he said.

“I would have indulged tonight, but someone suggested I see this competition through to the end,” she said coldly.

He glanced back as he heard her yawn. Her eyes were puffy, her skin a little paler than normal. Maybe he shouldn’t have goaded her into holding off another week.

 #

 Riza attempted going to bed early that night. She took a warm, relaxing bath with a few scented candles burning. She did her stretches for her back slowly, willing her body to relax, turned the light off, and crawled into bed, aching for sleep. And something else, if she was honest with herself.

Her mind refused to shut off.

How bad would it be to give in? She was so tired. Any teasing would be worth the rest. And she was thinking about her superior again, the quiet intensity as he lost himself to pleasure, the soft touch of his hand across her face…

She rubbed her thighs together, biting her lip. What good would she be at work tomorrow if she was half asleep? Her fingers edged toward the waistband of her underwear, craving that rush of heat that would spread through her body, leaving her blissfully relaxed.

The phone rang.

Cursing powerfully, she jumped out of bed to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hawkeye!” a drunken voice yelled into her ear. There was a lot of laughter and voices in the background.

She covered her face, twitching in annoyance. “Havoc! What do you want? I’m trying to get to sleep!”

“Exactly! I made a bet with Breda that you would make it through the rest of the month! Don’t be—don’t be doing anything you shouldn’t, young lady!”

“Excuse me?” she growled into the phone.

“You heard me!”

There was the sound of a scuffle, and a loud clanking as the phone was probably dropped.

“Hawkeye! Don’t listen to him! You do what you need to fall asleep. You deserve it!” Breda’s voice said, equally drunk.

“I’m hanging up.”

“Be strong, lieutenant!” Havoc bellowed, loud enough she heard it even holding the phone away from her ear.

It was another very long, restless night of little sleep.

 #

 Riza made sure to drop the stack of books onto Havoc’s desk as loudly as she could. She gave him a vengeful smile as he winced and massaged his temples. He didn’t show up at the office until after lunch.

“So, you and Breda went drinking last night?” she asked conversationally.

“Sorry, Hawkeye. I have fifty cenz riding on this!”

“I’m going to the range,” she said. “You are going to take care of all of my duties while I’m gone, or I will make sure you lose that bet.”

“Fine,” he agreed, sullen.

She stalked out of the room, arguing with herself about the immorality in their team. Masturbation competitions. Gambling. Fraternization. She flushed with guilt. How could she keep Mustang on the right path if she wavered at temptation?

 #

 Roy followed Hawkeye, telling the team he was going to make sure she didn’t fall asleep at the range and shoot someone on accident. And she really was dangerously tired—she didn’t notice he was following her until he called to her.

“Hawkeye, you’re dead on your feet, come with me,” he said, nudging her away from the gun range.

“Sir, I’m not going home—”

“I’m not sending you home. Come on, I know a place,” he said, bestowing her with his most dazzling grin.

She looked at him, and he knew her temper was boiling beneath the surface. “What kind of place?”

He lowered his voice. “A very quiet and private place.” He had taken countless naps there himself.

She quirked an eyebrow. “Is this where you disappear to some afternoons?”

“I admit nothing,” he said. And he had more than one napping place, but this one he was willing to share with Hawkeye.

“And you’re showing it to me…why?”

He thought about how worn down she was, looking as if she’d fall asleep in her chair. He hadn’t been thinking when he’d challenged her to continue holding off. He only hoped a nap could see her through the day.

“I owe you one,” he said.

She jutted out her chin for a moment longer as he waited for her temper to either burst or simmer down. His eyes landed on her lips, thinking of what they might be able to do in such a quiet place together…

Her expression softened as she smiled at him.

“All right. Just this once,” she said, falling into step behind him.

He led them toward the accounting department’s storage room. Unlike other departments, they had to store files for ten years before they could be destroyed. Roy had come poking around for a corrupt official’s  spending records when he discovered the accountants maintained a room with a cot for their annual audit. It was apparently an arduous event, and many of them pulled all-nighters. But the rest of the year, the room was unused—except by him.

Around a row of cabinets, out of view from the door, was a simple cot. No blankets or anything, but comfortable enough for some sleep.

“It’s not much, but it’s very private,” Roy said. A strange thrill ran through him, the same kind he got whenever he cornered a criminal, or was about to put his opponent in check. He turned to Hawkeye, and his mouth fell open. She was stripping in front of him for the second time in less than a week. She hung her jacket carefully across a cabinet, then began unbuttoning her pants.

He stared.

“You better look while you can,” she teased, revealing her long, bare legs. “Just this once, remember?”

Roy struggled to breathe, replaying the conversation they’d had in the hallway. He’d said—and she thought he meant—

Well, he always was quick on his feet.

“Right. Just this once,” he said. He’d set himself on fire before correcting her mistake. “Do you want me to—?” He gestured to his own jacket. He wasn’t sure, but if this was a quid pro quo thing, he didn’t need to undress, although they had both been mostly naked back at the warehouse...

“Maybe just your jacket,” she said, confirming his assumption.

He slipped his off quickly, throwing it haphazardly to the ground while Hawkeye folded her pants carefully.

“Sir, it will wrinkle,” she scolded him with a flirty smirk, moving toward the jacket.

“Sorry,” he said distractedly, taking in the exposed skin of her thighs. He couldn’t look away as she bent down to retrieve the jacket, laying it neatly atop the cabinet beside hers.

If this was his only opportunity…

He strode forward, his hands palming her hips and pulling her flush against him. She peered up at him, her breath as shallow as his.

“Is this okay?” he found himself asking, aware that his cock was misbehaving, but he would control himself. It was her turn now. He owed her so much—more than a hurried tryst in a storage room. He would do whatever she wanted.

“Yes,” she murmured, melting against him. It felt so good, so right, to have her in his arms.

“Last time, I didn’t even get to kiss you and—and—that’s just unfair,” he said, eyeing her parted lips with desperation.

She took mercy on him and stood on her toes, pulling him down by the nape of his neck to crush their lips together. She kissed with the same thoroughness she approached her job, and he responded with everything he had—a vain need to show her what a good, considerate lover he would be. He was overly eager to impress her.

He let his hands wander across her ass, giving a quick squeeze that made her gasp deliciously into his mouth. Then he worked his thumbs into the soft fabric of her underwear, tugging them off until there was nothing but skin below her waist. Tracing his hands lower, he squeezed again at the top of her thighs and was rewarded with her moan.

He nudged her back until she reclined on the cot, her legs trembling. Her eyes watched him carefully, half open but full of lust.

“Open your legs for me,” he said, the words more a command then a request.

She let her legs fall apart, gifting him with a surprisingly dainty whimper. One hand covered herself shyly, and it about broke him. His lovely, confident lieutenant afraid for him to see her—when she had to know what he planned to do.

Resting a hand on her thin ankle, he waited as she took a few gasps. He leaned down to kiss her knee, dragging his lips toward her inner thigh where he felt the heat radiating from her center. Her breaths grew ragged with anticipation.

“Roy—no one has ever—” she whispered, panting, still blocking his view with her hand.

“I don’t have to,” he said, choosing his words deliberately. It made sense now why she was being uncharacteristically shy. “But I am fucking dying to taste you and feel you come on my tongue.”

She made an unintelligible noise. “Okay,” she choked out. She moved her hand, and he let his fingers explore her first, caressing them over her folds.

“Let me know if I do something you don’t like,” he said, before slipping two fingers straight inside her. She was already so wet, he imagined if it was his cock, she would’ve taken it beautifully. She moaned as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, but her eyes remained watchful, expectant.

He understood. She wanted to know when he would use his mouth.

He took a moment to consider what she might like best, then he lowered his head slowly, keeping his gaze locked on hers. His tongue found her clit immediately, and he pressed hard against it.

She cried out, quickly muffling it with her hand. He grinned against her, then began licking and sucking interchangeably. Her legs shook violently around him, her encouraging, high pitched gasps seemed connected by a string to his erection, making him painfully hard. He began thrusting his fingers into her rhythmically, the same pace he would fuck her if he could. If he wasn’t her superior. If he had nothing to atone for.

He matched his tongue’s pace to his fingers, and she clenched down around him.

“Oh god. Just like that—don’t stop,” she sobbed. He was shocked at how close she was already. Then she was pulsing around him with a final blissful moan. She grasped the collar of his shirt and pulled until they were close enough to share a sloppy, passionate kiss.

He watched her eyelids flutter shut with sleep, so he surreptitiously adjusted his erection so that it was more comfortable before cramming in beside her in the cot meant for one. She snuggled into him like it was something they had always done, her head tucked under his chin. His heart twisted realizing how fleeting the moment would be.

Even after she fell asleep, he could still taste her on his tongue.

 #

 Riza woke up in a haze of perfect contentment until she realized her head was resting on Mustang’s chest. Oh no. How could they have been so reckless? And on military property. The sleep deprivation was affecting her reasoning.

Still, she didn’t move. Mustang had fallen asleep as well, and his arm was across her back. She peeked down and saw his jacket draped across her naked lower half. Her body throbbed with the memory of what his tongue had done. Oh my—if she had known what it would be like…

No. She couldn’t go down that path. The only reason she had stayed in the military was to support his goals and work toward whatever atonement she could grasp. She couldn’t help him as a regular citizen, and as long as she was in the military, a relationship was impossible.

She chided herself for such a leap—Mustang hadn’t mentioned a relationship. It was just raging sexual tension burning out of control once they had no other outlets thanks to that stupid competition.

Or so she wanted to convince herself.

“Lieutenant, I’m surprised you haven’t marched me at gunpoint back to the office,” he said, startling her.

She pushed up on her elbow. “At this rate, I think it’s best we lie low. We’ve been gone too long.”

“I’ll think of some excuse,” he assured her. “I also…wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have pushed you to go the rest of the month. You won fair and square.”

Riza smiled. “I appreciate that—but why the hell did you do it in the first place?”

He gave her a sheepish look. “Mostly to watch you squirm.”

She reached out and pinched his arm.

“Ow! You are becoming very insubordinate, you know that?”

She shrugged. “Someone has to keep you in line.”

“Better a pinch than a bullet, I guess,” he grumbled, exaggeratedly nursing his arm.

“Want me to kiss it better?” she found herself asking—quite without her more sensible side’s permission.

Immediately, the atmosphere changed. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears, and she was aware of every point their bodies were touching. She was completely naked below the waist, and now that she knew how good he was with his mouth…

“Riza,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. “Do you want this as much as I do?”

“Probably more,” she said. No matter how much she tried, she never stopped wanting Roy Mustang.

“But we shouldn’t,” he said sharply. Reprimanding himself or her, it didn’t matter. He was right.

“No. We can’t risk it.” She inhaled, relishing his scent. He always smelled so good, even back during his apprentice days in her father’s house. “Maybe…one day,” she said, her voice thin with the barest of hope for that future.

“Holding out makes it so much better, doesn’t it? The longer we have to wait to be together…” he trailed off.

“We’ll still be together,” she reminded him. “Not like this,” wrapped together like happy lovers, “but together.”

She shifted, preparing to stand and dress, when she felt something irresistible pressing into her abdomen. He had taken care of her needs, ignoring his own. Like always.

Suddenly she didn’t want to wait around for the timing to be right. Holding out was overrated.

 #

 Under normal circumstances, Roy thought of himself as a logical man. He wanted to be a man of honor, a man who could walk the straight and narrow no matter the obstacles. A man who would never seduce his female subordinate.

He had never considered his subordinate would seduce him.

“Sir, you really can’t go back to the office like this,” Hawkeye said softly as her hand wriggled between them to cup his erection.

“Ah, yes, a consequence of being pressed against you—” he couldn’t finish his thought. She twisted herself until she hovered over him, straddling his hips.

Dimly, he saw her kick his uniform jacket onto the floor. “Won’t it wrinkle?” he asked, voice strained.

“Do you care?” She pulled her shirt over her head. Her glorious breasts momentarily distracted him as her bra went next.

“No. But I’m confused. We just said—”

“You really think we can ignore this for however many years it takes to reach your goals?” She countered, working on the buttons of his shirt.

His hands, moving with a mind of their own, glided up and down her thighs. “I thought you’d keep me in line.”

“If your insane brainchild has taught us anything, our team works best when we are satisfied and well rested. And you and I both know we already get distracted by one another.” She leaned down to kiss him, and her naked breasts, soft against his chest, sent him a bit farther into madness. She sucked on his tongue, doing such obscene things with it that he nearly forgot to keep up his feeble argument.

“You’re all about efficiency, is that it?” he asked. “Fraternization be damned?”

“I’m not saying we do this all the time. Just whenever the tension gets to be too much, and we need…relief.”

He swallowed thickly. “I really like this idea.”

“Me too.” She ground down on his erection, her lips near his ear. “If I had known how good it was to have your mouth between my thighs, I would never have lasted this long.”

His mind toyed with a devious idea. His sweet, delicious lieutenant was asking for him to make her come with his mouth again. And if she had never experienced that, surely she had never…

“You up for a little…adventure?”

“What did you have in mind?” She nibbled at his neck, each touch zinging to his cock. He knew she would probably need some enticement, so he slipped his hand between her legs, her core already slick. He sank two fingers into her, grinning like an idiot when she thrust her body down onto them. His thumb rubbed circles on her clit as she squirmed on him.

Her breaths accelerated in time with his own. Willing himself to slow down, he changed the pace to lazy circles.

“Turn around,” he whispered. “I want to be inside your mouth while I taste you at the same time.”

He waited, gauging her reaction. He felt his heart constrict at the foreign shy expression on her face.

“That seems…tricky,” she said after a beat.

“You’ll be on top, so you can stop anytime.”

“Oh. If you were on top—” She squeezed down on his fingers, her eyes a dark amber. So she liked that idea? Maybe another time. He wouldn’t last long with her eager mouth beneath him. He wasn’t going to last long as it was. And the thought of having her another time was too much to think about.

“You seemed to really like my mouth on you earlier,” he reminded her, hoping to provoke her into bravery.

With a determined huff, she pulled away, his wet fingers sliding across her legs as he helped her flip around, one knee landing gracefully by his shoulder. He was dying to taste her, dying to have her helplessly moaning around a mouthful of his cock. She made short work of his pants, and he grunted as she wrapped her hand around him. He grabbed her hips, positioning her a bit roughly into place so he could tug her down and clamp down on her clit.

Her thighs quaked around him and just as he hoped, she moaned wantonly as she sucked his erection as deep as she could, her tongue teasing him.

But he didn’t want her focused on him. Sure, she was a goddess with that sharp tongue of hers, but he wanted her mindless with desire. He needed to see her fall apart before he finally claimed her body.

Roy couldn’t deny her trust in him was half the turn on, her beautiful folds spread out for him to see. He spread her legs apart farther, enjoying her gasp as he angled her just a bit differently and plunged his fingers into her again. He knew she liked that extra stimulation, and with this new angle he could do a lot.

In retaliation, she added more suction and his answering moan, vibrating against her, made her grind gently against his mouth. Her inhibitions were gone, her groans gaining almost too much volume, and her focus on him faltered to sporadic licks as she distractedly worked him up and down.

He filled with pride as she finally had to release him, her breaths high and labored.

“Oh god. Roy. Please—”

He almost shushed her she grew so loud, but he would risk the end of his career to hear her cry his name while she tipped over the edge.

“Roy,” she whimpered, her head falling onto his thigh as she went limp, perfectly relaxed.

He eased her onto her side, trying to give her a moment to catch her breath even as his cock begged for attention.

Then Hawkeye looked at him, and he realized he was now the focus of all her discipline and strength as a soldier. She twirled around, licking her swollen lips as she climbed over him, a lithe and seductive predator. She dragged her wet folds along his stiff hardness, and he reflexively bucked his hips, needing more.

She kept teasing him.

“Lieutenant,” he groaned. “Are you trying to torture me for information?”

She laughed softly before kissing him deeply. “What information would I be looking for?” she asked, finally—finally—inching her way down his erection.

Busy exploring her body, paying particular attention to her breasts, he forgot to answer. Then he could think of nothing else as she slid down his cock, wrapping him tightly in wet heat. He loved how confident she was, more in her element as she took control of his pleasure, finding a rhythm that made him tense from his stomach to his toes.

“I always thought you’d be a dirty talker,” she said, brushing the tips of her breasts against his chest as she spoke into his ear.

He was intrigued. “Oh? You think about this a lot?”

“Most nights,” she said, letting her hands roam. He sighed when they combed through his messy hair.

“I thought you’d be more shy,” he panted. “And here you are—fuck—yeah, I can’t talk much when you do that.” He groaned, rock hard inside her, as she began to thrust faster.

“Whatever fantasies I’ve had of you…this is so much better,” she said, drawing him into another kiss.

And that’s when he knew he was in trouble. She was right. This was better. Better than anything else in his life. Because he was in love with her. There was no doubt she loved him too.

He shuddered under her attentions, knowing that he was undeserving of her loving touches, but not caring. Whatever she would give him, he would take.

A grunt escaped him as she quickened the pace, his own thrusts jostling her.

“I’m—I’m close,” he warned her, his balls tightening in that pleasant way it always did right before he came.

“Go ahead—if you want,” she moaned, sinking all the way down, unmistakably giving her permission.

“Almost,” he said, sneaking a hand to her clit and circling it until she came around him with a cry of elation that he stifled with his lips.

And oh hell, it was euphoric, fusing their mouths together and holding her waist in place as he came deep inside her, pulsing over and over. She held still as he softened inside her, and he treasured the sticky mess connecting them.

They broke apart and he kissed her shoulder, damp with sweat, as they rearranged themselves into a more comfortable position on the cot.

“Well, if anyone heard us, they are too afraid to interrupt,” he said at last. He was going to have to find an excuse to top all excuses to give the rest of the team.

“I tried to be quiet,” she said, a hint of petulance in her voice.

“And I tried to make you scream,” he countered, grinning ear to ear. It earned him a shove that almost knocked him out of the cot.

Later, they dressed in companionable silence

“Maybe…we can do this again when you get your next promotion?” she offered with a smirk. “Would that motivate you?”

It really would. “Unless you ask for it sooner,” he challenged, buttoning his shirt.

“I’ll hold out as long as I can, sir,” she said, her dutiful adjutant persona reappearing. “You get that promotion as soon as you can.” She sidled up to him, making his heart race. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

 #

 Riza arrived early to work, marking herself out on the chalkboard with a barely suppressed smile. Then she waited for the others arrive. Havoc shuffled in first.

“What! Hawkeye!” Havoc yelled in disbelief, dropping his bag to the floor. “You couldn’t hold out a little bit longer?”

Riza paused her reading. “No.”

“Damn it, I never should’ve bet against Breda.”

“If it’s any consolation, I already finished the report you left half done. Thanks for covering for me yesterday.” She looked back down at the document, aiming for casual. But she could practically hear Havoc making the connection.

“Right. Where did you and Mustang disappear to all afternoon?” Havoc scratched at his chin.

“The accounting department,” she said crisply, following Mustang’s carefully crafted excuse.

“You were there for ages. Did it not go well?”

She couldn’t resist. “No, it went very well. Mustang was just very thorough.”

“I did hear a rumor yesterday—I can’t wait to tell the boss.”

“A rumor?” Mustang asked, as if he could appear whenever anyone mentioned him. He swept over to his desk, plunking a briefcase on top.

Riza tensed, afraid there were rumors of a certain lieutenant colonel and his adjutant brazenly breaking fraternization laws.

“Some of the secretaries were talking—including Grumman’s. Rumor has it a certain Flame Alchemist is being put up for a promotion to colonel.”

Riza felt her body flush pleasantly as Mustang’s eyes darted to her. He looked incredibly smug.

“I wonder when it will be official,” Mustang said. “I should drop by Grumman’s for one of our chess games—see if he talks.”

“Until it’s official, it doesn’t count,” Riza said, although she was already anticipating celebrating his promotion in a proper bed…

“I’ll be sure to ask Grumman for it to be expedited,” he said, staring at her a little too intently. Havoc watched with amusement.

“Good idea,” she said. She returned to her work.

“Boss, have you noticed Hawkeye seems well rested today?” Havoc asked, still watching them closely.

Mustang’s grin could not have been more arrogant, but he played it off like it was because she gave in before the month was out.

“You know, she does. Release a little tension, lieutenant?”

Riza didn’t look up, acting absorbed in her work. “Yes, sir. Four times, in fact.” Three with Mustang, and once before bed.

It was worth confessing just to watch him and Havoc practically swallow their tongues.

“Being a woman means not only can I hold out longer when I choose to, I can also…” she searched for the word, “produce more. It’s a pity the military doesn’t utilize women more. We are very efficient.”

“Is that a challenge?” Mustang asked, popping his knuckles.

“No, no, no, you get your evil ideas under control!” Havoc said. “No more!”

And while Mustang assured Havoc he was joking, Riza heard the promise in his voice. Round two between them was going to be unforgettable.

[xaspiringbeamoflightx]

A Brief Timeline of Tina and James’ Tumultuous History for the Uninitiated !!

Tina and James have been an ongoing riot-fest since 2019, but not everyone knows just how complicated their relationship actually is. They might look all cute and cuddly now, but it’s been a long time coming and they’re still working on it. Also, there are some things here that happened with a previous Peter so they’re sort of... half ret-conned but kind of not, we’ll see? Please note that this is a huge post also! Trigger Warnings: Emotional and Physical Abuse, Violence, Injury (self-harm and caused by someone else), Hospitals, Sex Work, Drug Mentions, Sex Mentions. These are all mentioned briefly but not spoken about in great detail.

So, James and Tina began life as mortal enemies. Tina started working at the Neverland Hotel when she was 19, mostly to look after Peter. They both absolutely hated James because he was a “pirate” (see: adult) and was always grumpy and bossing them around (you know, as a boss/ adult does) and they were always causing trouble for him.

Cue 2019. Tina was still firmly in the James bad pirate camp, but James finds Tina quite funny and endearing, if absolutely terrible at doing her job.

Incident 1: Tina attends a house party and while drunk catches James walking by and decides to cause some trouble for him. He follows her into the house, she continues to wind him up, and then he scoops her up and jumps into the pool with her as a bit of revenge for trouble making. (It should be noted here that Tina cannot swim and hates water, so she is absolutely livid and very embarrassed because the whole party saw this incident occur.) For a few days after, Tina avoids James in case she tries to kill him because she is #pissed.

Incident 2: The whole ordeal has been annoying Tina all week, and it culminates in her going in a huff while trying and failing to put clean sheets on the hotel beds. James investigates because she isn’t doing her job, and is a bit concerned for her. They begin to argue because Tina is in a bad mood but James doesn’t let her storm away and then the unexpected happens and Tina shows a vulnerable, meek side that neither of them saw coming. She let her guard down for a second (and it was our first oh shit moment), and then James was internally like “that was odd”.

Tina didn’t like that she let her guard down, so she's back on the must cause trouble and forget that ever happened BS as soon as she gets the chance.  

Cue Incident 3: Halloween! James thinks it would be a great idea to make Tina try on some Halloween costumes for a themed Halloween Hotel thing as revenge for her throwing an absolute tantrum. Somehow... Lord... Somehow they end up flirting?? Tina is doing it to be a little shit because she thinks it’s funny, James is doing it to see what Tina does. About halfway through this, James has an epiphany! (You know, a good old Oh Shit I fancy Tina, fuck my life moment). She’s standing there in a fairy costume, James has her near enough against the wall and just as it looks like it's about to go too far, Peter swoops in and saves Tina from the evil pirate.

Incident 4: A curveball.

It’s mid-November, 2am. James is taking a walk home from his fight club, and he happens upon Tina’s street. She doesn’t sleep well because there’s always something worrying her that she 100% doesn’t let anyone know about because she doesn’t let her guard down for anyone, so she makes herself a wee cup of tea and she’s sitting on her front step drinking it. (This thread was so soft I swear) Tina is very sleepy, so her guard is fully down at this point, and for some reason she invites him in for a cup of tea if he promises not to tell anyone. She’s actually nice and honest for once, and the conversation is lovely, which has James like heart-eyes everywhere.

They talk a bit about how James used to be in a gang, and he mentions that he has a scar from where he was stabbed as a young man. In a sleepy state, Tina realises James is actually an okay person and tells him “You’re not so bad”. He mentions that the hotel is going to be refurbished, and Tina starts giving him sleepy ideas and then eventually accidentally falls asleep on his shoulder on the sofa. He puts her to bed, but quickly finds out Tina is clingy AF as she grips his arm and won’t let go when he puts her down. So, James has no choice but to sleep on her floor because he doesn’t have the heart to make her let go.

A little while after this the hotel had to close for refurbishment - it was being pretty much rebuilt from the ground up, so Peter had to go live with Tina in her tiny one-bedroom apartment, and she didn’t have to go to work for a while, but James kept her paid and employed. 

Incident 5: There were some slowly building conversation between the sleepy 2am conversation and this incident, so it doesn’t come fully out of nowhere.

James gets a phone call from his estranged father, who he hasn’t spoken to since he was a child because of his mother, and asks to meet him. James panics that his life isn’t what he thinks it should be - in other words, he’s completely alone and unloved and doesn’t want his dad to know that - and asks Tina to pretend to be his fake fiancé for a few hours and says he’ll pay her for it.

She’s like “FINE if i’m getting paid but you also have to get us free McDonalds”. Tina stupidly suggests they pretend to get engaged in McDonalds for free chicken nuggets because it would be hilarious. Afterwards, they go to meet his dad, Tina pretends to be the fiancé and they eventually leave thinking all is swell. (Tina has not told Peter about this plan at all but she knows Peter doesn’t want her near James.)

Then shit just... hits the fan...

Incident 6: “Why did it have to be you?”

James, at this point, has realised he really, really, really likes Tina... And that he thinks he actually loves her. Instead of keeping it to himself, they’re walking back to the car, and he just comes out with the bombshell that he loves her and Tina does not take it well.

After a lifetime of always being strung along, Tina thinks he’s playing a cruel joke on her, because Tina wanted someone (Peter) to love her her whole life and she never got it. People have always toyed with her feelings like this in the past. When he insists he’s not joking she gets even more angry and says “Why did it have to be you?” which really stung James who has already been made feel worthless his whole life (to be revealed in a later point). Tina thinks James used her, and it’s a whole mess. They end up fighting and there are bitter tears and they have to sit in the car home like... not feeling great!! In an unexpected turn though, Tina softens and tries to lighten the mood before they get home. James’ self-worth has tanked by this point, which leads to self harm when he finally gets home, but a text from Tina pulls him out of it.

They think that’s the end of it, that Tina will never speak to James again, and James will be sad forever, but there’s more!

Incident 7: Word gets to Peter that Tina and Hook are engaged, and he is absolutely livid at Tina and demands she never speak to him again (but little does he know that somehow Tina felt so bad about what she said that she started texting James again, not apologising but like making jokes and somehow she ended up flirting with him again, and they were kind of low-key talking again. Basically by this point Tina is like Why can I not stop talking to him?) Tina insists to Peter that the whole thing was fake and that she only did it for the nuggets. Tina has promised never to speak to James again, and for a hot minute she “saw sense” and intended on not seeing him again except for work, so no more weird plans or anything because Peter said.

Then Incident 8: We are roughly at the end of January 2020. One night, at 2am Tina gets a phone call from James. He sounds awful, and he tells her he loves her again at which point Tina is confused, thinking he’s drunk. Before he can answer Tina’s question, someone takes over the call. He had been on his way to the hospital because he had been stabbed by a member of his old gang and was, y’know, actively dying.

Tina freaks out for multiple reasons, but mostly because she realises she actually really cannot lose James because he might actually be her friend, and he’s nice to her and he treats her well. (At this point she’s feeling something else but it has fully not clicked). In a pure blur, she rushes to the hospital, not telling Peter, because she thought he was legit going to die, and she was the last person he wanted to talk to before he went. Tina waits there on her own the entire time (for actual hours) while James is in emergency surgery, not knowing what’s going to happen or why she’s so scared.

In the early hours of the morning, he finally is in recovery, and Tina gets to see him, distraught talking to him while he’s out for the count.  He comes around for a little bit, they have a cute, melancholy conversation and she gets to go home when the fear of him dying is gone.

Tina hen visits him almost every day in the hospital “for work related things” because she made a moodboard for one of the hotel room’s themes and needs an excuse to talk to him more. (Somewhere around here is Valentine’s Day and James feels jealous that Tina is making Peter something for dinner.)

James eventually makes a recovery and gets out of the hospital and Tina has continued to see him through the whole journey and not tell a single person that she was there on the night of the emergency. (She is completely bottling it up at this point and it’s not doing her good.) Unfortunately, James’ past catches up to him a second time.

Incident 9: He has been home for a short amount of time, but one afternoon James sends Tina a text saying that he doesn’t want anything to do with her any more. He gets quite harsh with her to really send that message home, and Tina is raging because she’s like you put me through all this emotional turmoil for nOTHING?!?!?! I think the fuck not!

He suddenly stops replying, but instead of taking the hint, Tina decides to go to James’ house for a stern word with him. James starts by trying to get her to leave angrily, but it doesn’t work because she’s stubborn. We quickly find out that the reason he wants her out of his life is to protect her from his mother! She heard about the “engagement” and wasn’t happy about it.

This is where James reveals the really hard life that he has led up to this point -   His mother blamed him for his father leaving them, and then made it seem like James died to hurt his father. James ended up in care until he was 18 (and was in a gang through his teens and 20s), and was later forced to become a male escort when his mother came back for more revenge. She was just... hella abusive, not a fun time, and now, after a few years of James thinking he had gotten away from that life she showed up because she couldn’t let him be happily engaged.

The woman turns up at the house while Tina is there and starts fighting with James. At some point Tina sees nothing but red because dont treat him like that!!! and she ends up going on the attack. They finally get the woman out of the house and from that point on Tina is like nope I’m in this, must protect James!!!!!!!

Tina and James are fully not processing any of this at this point. The emotional turmoil they've both had in a short space of time is so bad that they're both 5 minutes away from a full mental breakdown and they're fully attached to each other at this point because of it.

So, one of Tina's personality traits at this point is that for sOme  reason she just cannot help herself from trying to wind up James because  it gets her attention. It always leads to low-key flirting that she  won't admit to because she's fully in denial that she fancies him at  this point, and James goes with it because he DOES fancy her and thinks  it's cute. They have a few conversations after this where they're being  nice to each other and whatever so there's a slight build up to this next part that Naomi and I didn't see coming until we got there...  

This leads us to Incident 10: The infamous Bubbles thread.

SOOOOOOOOOO Tina, looking for attention, shows up to James' house with the intention of bugging him until he agrees to throw a party at the hotel. Totally innocent, the following was genuinely not planned on Tina’s part. Anyway, Tina shows up and James is in the bath but by this point she's fully on the I'm here for attention and this will be hilarious road so she straight up just walks into his house, goes looking for him, finds him in the bathroom and kicks off her shoes to sit on the edge of the bath for a casual conversation. (There are bubbles so do not worry, she sees nothing!)

James is rightfully thinking “wtf Tina?” but she just keeps insisting on this party like this is a normal way to ask for anything. He gets sick of it and just pulls her into the bath fully clothed. There's too much flirting going on, but they get out and get changed, and we thought that was gonna be the end of it.

But then tension builds and builds, and the penny drops. It goes where you think. They end up sleeping together, which only complicates the matter because Tina isn’t over her feelings for Peter at this point, and she is TERRIFIED that he will find out about it, so she asks James to keep it a secret.

All of this tension and drama is building and finally Tina has an actual total meltdown a few months later because at this point she hasn't told anyone any of this, and it's been building for months. [Note: This was triggered by a plot in the RP we were in at the time, which is ret conned plot-wise here, but the meltdown and following comfort still occurred because it was important. Essentially, there was a mass spiking of drinks at a festival, which made Tina paranoid and all the previous trauma hit her on the come comedown, which sent her into a 3-day-long depressive episode] Following her crisis and meltdown, James came along to see if she was okay because he couldn't get a hold of her for 3 days and she confesses that she fancies him (but hasn't said love yet).

They're fully attached to each other at this point and end up with this weird secret relationship thing going that Tina is trying to keep from Peter because she gets so paranoid that he'll never want to speak to her again. (This is where all of Tina’s Peter issues are completely heightened because she has this terrible, debilitating fear that she will hurt Peter and that he’ll hate her, because Peter’s happiness is supposed to come first.)

Eventually, Tina finds that she has no choice but to tell Peter because it's driving her nuts and she doesn't want to tell him accidentally because she's having another meltdown. It isn’t fair on James either, who genuinely loves her, and is so kind and warm and loving toward her and she is ajkgajghuahg every time she is near him. James issues her an ultimatum, but she has to tell him or he will be finished with her. She realises she can’t let that happen either and she’s stuck in the turmoil of not wanting to lose the two most important people in her life.

(Somewhere in here James ends up caring for his younger twin sisters, but this is a story for Naomi to explain if you need it.)

Incident 11: Tina tells Peter some time in November, leading to another meltdown. She confesses that there has been something going on between her and James, tells part of the emotional turmoil from the hospital and so on, and that she lied and broke her promise. [This happened in between Peter players, some creative liberties were taken]

Peter was rightfully livid about the whole thing. Read this for the meltdown.

As punishment for lying, and having a thing for thee Pirate James Hook, Peter banishes her (which in Lost Boy speak is basically death. She was terrified he would banish her and he did it) for two weeks. Tina has another total meltdown following the banishment  and for the first time ever calls James to ask for help because she's so  heartbroken that she can't function thinking she had lost Peter  forever.  

Peter disappeared some time during this two-week period, returned briefly at Christmas pretending nothing happened, and then disappeared again until recently so Tina is all over the place.  For the first week she literally can't do anything, but also has been  thinking a lot a lot, and then on the second week at some point she  finally tells James she loves him.  He showed up to fix the cabinet door she broke mid-meltdown and she's just like aiuhauighiuahgu shit i love you.

Incident 12: The Blackout, December 5th. James had plans to propose now that he really knew Tina loved him, but the blackout and the hotel being thrown into chaos threw his plan completely out the window. Until it didn’t.

Tina accidentally used the proposal mug on the final day to make James a cup of tea to de-stress while they were at the hotel, inadvertently proposing to James by accident. After a proper explanation, James finally pops the question and Tina says yes. (Because we love chaos, they snuck away from the hotel for a while for... some not safe for the workplace things) and later returned like nothing happened.

So now they’re engaged and that’s us just about up to date. I think?

Now all that’s left to do is tell Peter about the engagement...

[forlornmelody]

Impulse Control--Why Startling Poison Ivy Is A Really Bad Idea

Rating: E (Smut with some plot, for flavor.)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Poison Ivy/Kate Kane

Linkage: Ao3

Summary:  To find Harley, Ivy must make an uneasy alliance with one of the more notorious (and notoriously attractive) members of the Batfamily. A simple, easy in-and-out. But nothing is so simple or easy, is it?

Note: Commission for @rookie009. Dude, thank you so much for commissioning me again. And indulging this weirdness.

->->->

Pam-a-lamb,

I’m doing bad stuff but don’t worry ‘bout it. 

--Harley xoxo

“It’s completely unlike her, right?” 

Jason leans against the doorway, one boot braced against it and the other flat on the floor. He holds Harley’s unfolded note in his gloved hands, narrowing his eyes at it as if the answer lies in the creases. “You know her better. What’s your gut telling you?” 

“She--” Ivy sighs, rubbing circles between her eyebrows--a futile gesture against her impending headache. “--She doesn’t leave notes. Harley just goes . Maybe she texts me while she’s out somewhere because the color of someone’s jacket made her think of me.” Waving her hand at the note, Ivy meets Jason’s eyes. “This…” 

“...is planned.” Jason rotates the note, flipping it forward and back. “You sure it’s her handwriting?"

Honestly, Ivy doesn’t know what to think. “It...doesn’t look any different.” She coughs. “It smells like her.” Like buttered popcorn and Chinese food. Remembering cuts right into her sternum. 

Jason puts a gloved hand over hers. He’s the only Robin who ever dared to touch her. “You’ll get her back. I know you will.”

She watches him step back towards the door. “Not we?”

“Sorry, Red. I can’t help you.” Jason shifts on his feet. To be honest, Ivy kind of expected this. She can still see the scar running down the side of his face, where a crowbar had bashed his head in, and where a coroner had sewn it back shut. Funny how the Lazarus Pit didn’t remove it when it brought him back. “The Outlaws and I have work in Markovia.” Ivy’s teeth grind together at the blatant lie, but before she can speak, he continues,  “But if it’s a gun you need, I’m not the only one in the Batfamily who can handle them.”

“Who--?”

“Don’t worry. She’ll find you.”

He shuts the door behind him so softly Ivy almost doesn’t hear it. The gears in her mind clicking into place drown it out.

You better be joking, Kid. 

 -----

Jason was not kidding. Ivy enters her greenhouse lab, and finds Batwoman herself leaning against a drosera glanduligera . “I’d give Frankie some space if I were you. He finds unannounced guests quite delicious and full of nutrients.”

Batwoman quickly puts distance between them. Frankie’s tentacles sag with betrayal. “Red Hood told me you needed a favor?” Her crimson-stained lips wrinkle with distaste. 

“Harley’s missing. Jason Todd told me you’d help.” It’s an exaggeration of his promise, but Ivy isn’t leaving anything to chance. 

It’s hard to tell with the cowl, but Ivy swears Batwoman’s eyes widen just a little before narrowing into slits. “That depends. Am I aiding you in a crime?”

Ivy turns around, pretending to ignore her as she prunes a mutated rosa gymnocarpa, one that will fire its thorns at will. She’s thinking of naming it Lucy. “Depends on what you consider a crime.” Before Batwoman can answer, Ivy continues. “Is hacking government systems a crime? Is kidnapping?”

Batwoman steps next to her, and nearly fingers the rose petals, but thinks better of it. “You think government agents took her somewhere?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time. But I want to find her before someone worse does.”

Ivy’s desk seems like a safe enough place, and Batwoman perches there. “You’re not worried I’m going to turn you in?”

That gets a chuckle out of her. “You’re certainly welcome to try.”

The suggestion rolls off of her like rain on a window pane. “Oh, like Batman hasn’t turned you in several times before?”

Ivy licks her lips. “Only when I wanted him to.”

The vigilante rolls her eyes. “Look. I owe J--Red Hood a favor. So I’ll look into it and--”

“No. I’m coming with you.”

“Why?”

“I have to make sure you’re not giving me bad intel.” Before Batwoman can protest, Ivy continues. “You don’t want to disappoint Jason, do you?”

Is it Batwoman muffling her grumble, or is it her mask?

“This  can’t be the Batcave.”

“It’s not. It’s a safehouse. One I will be relocating after this.”

Ivy snorts, eyeing a piece of ancient weaponry, a Roman shield by the looks of it. It seems neither of them trusts the other. She’s fine with that. Not once has Ivy ever appreciated having someone depend on her. Well. There’s always an exception, isn’t there? But that exception is off doing fuck-knows-what, and Ivy’s relying on a godamn hero to help find her. “Nice place,” she murmurs. 

“Don’t touch anything.” Batwoman says quickly, sitting down at her desk, bracing her chin on her elbows in front of her keyboard. It’s so... candid of her that Ivy catches herself staring. Apparently even superheroes let their shoulders roll forward sometimes. Ivy wonders what Batwoman looks like when she finally removes her cowl for the night. The red hair most definitely is a wig--real hair would never hold curls like that. Her hair is short underneath--putting it up would take too much time when an old lady needs help crossing the street. But other than the fullness of her red lips--Ivy has no idea who the woman is underneath. It’s going to drive her crazy--just like it did with her male counterpart. “CIA says she’s been “acquired for a black ops mission out of Bell Reve. But anything beyond that we’ll have to access on si--Are you even listening?”

Ivy shakes it off, pretending to examine her nails. “And why can’t I touch anything if you’re moving?” She’s trying to remember why Bell Reve sounds so familiar. 

“I would like to keep some of it. I like the way it looks. And I don’t want your pheromones on everything.”

Then it clicks. “ Beautiful View. Is that another prison?”

Batwoman presses her lips together, then nods. “Blacksite.”

Fire roils in Ivy’s veins. “Of fucking course it is.” No accountability. No oversight. Whoever kidnapped Harley can do fuck-all with her and get away with it. And Ivy (and Batwoman) have barely scratched the surface.

“Doctor Isley?” Batwoman says, her voice rising and tense.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay? The vines in my spider plant look about ready to strangle me.”

Ivy glances over at the chlorophytum comosum, whose children are quickly inching towards Batwoman and her slender neck. “She says you’re smothering her and her babies with the constant watering. And she prefers the name Billie.” Waving her hand, Ivy watches as the spider plants retreat back towards their home, leaving their caretaker well alive, for now. 

 ------

The “site”  is a nondescript cubicle-laced hell in the basement of a social security office. Neither of them can go through the front door--well, Batwoman could if she’d take off her goddamn cowl, but that isn’t happening any time soon. So they pop open a basement window while the mailroom workers are on their lunch. They meander through the maze of modular walls and humming towers, dodging the occasional wayward paper crumble. “Our info should be in that corner office.”

It doesn’t look like much, just an otherwise empty desk with a computer that has dust gathering on its keyboard. The room lacks widows, and Ivy wrinkles her nose at the musty air. It could use a sathiphyullum or two to freshen up. Batwoman leans over the desk, firing up the computer and clacking at the keys. “Almost there….”

Ivy smells them before she hears them--donuts, coffee, and the musk of unwashed skin. Security. “Bats---”

Batwoman doesn’t even deign to look up. “Keep ‘em busy.”

“Poison Ivy?” The first guard fumbles to keep his walkie-talkie in his hands. 

“Good afternoon,” she says neutrally. Batwoman gives her a steel look. “Work here often?”

His mouth hangs open, his thumb still glued to the talk button. He means to ask what she’s doing here, but all that comes out is: “Are you seeing anyone?”

Ivy snorts. “Maybe if you set that radio down, Casanova.” 

As soon as he complies, the radio hisses with static. “Sending backup, over.”

“Ivy!” Bats hisses, glancing over at her. 

She scoffs, listening for the tell-tale thunder of boots down the hall. “You know, this would be a lot easier if you weren’t hung up about property damage.”

“No one can know we’re here, Ivy.”

For the love of pete. Her heart already races out of control, and fuck if Ivy can slow it down now. Harley’s calming techniques be damned. “Well, you’re not going to like this either.” 

“Like what?” Bats says flatly, in the middle of a download. 

“You’ve only two other options, Batsy.”

“Enough with the nicknames, already.”

The backup pours into the room, and the room flashes white, and Ivy swears her eardrums explode with the noise. Her body reacts before her brain can, and the air’s filled with a dusty haze. Shit. Shit. Shit. 

“Sex or murder?” Ivy calls out over the coughing militarized guards. Who the fuck guards a building with a SWAT team? Harley, what have you got yourself into this time? 

“What?” Batwoman yells back, coughing too. 

“SEX OR MURDER???”

“...Sex, I guess?”

Ivy holds up her hands, seeing half a dozen sights aimed at her chest. “It’s gonna be sex with me. You okay with that?”

Batwoman doesn’t look up, but she does stop typing. “Is this hypothetical or…?”

“Not anymore it isn’t.” 

“Are you going to kill me otherwise?” 

Ivy pinches her nose. “ NO. For crying out loud. But we don’t have time to get arrested.”

“HANDS ON THE GROUND.” Ivy and Bats comply. What else are they going to do while they hash this out?

The vigilante rolls her eyes. “Ugh. Fine.”

“Wait, really?”

“ Yes, Ivy. But only if it’s not around these idiots.”

“If you insist.” Ivy waves her hand as subtly as she can, letting the pheromones escape her skin like a fine mist. 

“Uh, boss?” One of the sights drops to her hand. Shit. 

Five more join the first. “Hey! None of that. ”Pigs never were known for their subtlety. 

Ivy plasters on her most repentant expression. “Too late.” And she’s not lying. She can already see the green mist being pulled into the HVAC system. Which is another problem, but one she’s not going to worry about just yet. 

“Plant Lady! Get that shit out of the air!”

One. 

“No can do. Sorry.” Not sorry. Not one bit. 

Two. 

“I mean it, Lady. Or I’ll shoot!”

Three. 

“ Lady, I swear I’ll--”

One piggy turns to the other. “Hey, Frankie?”

“Not now, Mitch.”

“There’s something I gotta tell you, Frankie.” Mitch takes his hand, fingering the clasps on the other man’s armor. 

“Mitch? What hell-- mm. ”

Batwoman holds her flash drive in her hands, stunned by the site of an entire SWAT team playing tonsil hockey with one another. Ivy grabs her by the cape. “That’s our cue!” And she drags her to a cubicle by the stairs. 

“Wouldn’t it be easier if we just left ?” 

“‘Fraid not. Unless you packed an antidote to my new toxin with you.” 

“Actually.” Batwoman fishes around in her utility belt. “Shit.” She turns on her, jabbing a finger in her face. “You were supposed to be on your best behavior.”

Ivy folds her arms, leaning against the cubicle wall. “Wasn’t expecting them to send the SWAT after us.” 

Batwoman takes a deep breath. “So, how does this work, exactly?”

Licking her lips, Ivy answers. “There’s an antidote in my saliva, but it’s the most potent after I’ve had an orgasm.”

“Then why does it have to be sex?” Bat’s candor is refreshing, if not unexpected. “Why not jill yourself off and get it over with?” 

“It’s not so simple,” Ivy chuckles. “My DNA is too dissimilar to yours--”

“But if you have my DNA, aka my saliva , with it--”

“An effective antidote.”

“An effective antidote that won’t cause you serious side effects.” She steps towards Bats, holding out her hand. “Any other questions before we start?”

Batwoman quirks her head at Ivy’s clinical tone. “Will Harley be okay with this?”

Ah. There’s the question of the day. Ivy closes her hand, examining her nails as she shrugs. “She’ll be alive . And free.”

Black gloved hands take her bare ones in their own, squeezing them gently. “You love her, don’t you.”

Ivy swallows, feeling as if the ground is moving beneath her boots. “I’d--” do anything for her , she means to say, and give Batwoman the vantage over her.

Batwoman seals her mouth over hers, muffling her reply. And to think this woman had the more ruthless reputation over her male counterpart. Her slips are soft and full, and the gloss slides between them and tastes like dark cherry. Intoxicating. Ivy dares to dart her tongue between them, and taste that poison just that much more. 

Her pheromones work quickly as they enter Batwoman’s system. Her professional silence slips into wanton moans, and her hands work into the top of Ivy’s bust. She shivers, leaning into her touch, whispering encouragement. “Go ahead. Touch me everywhere you’d like.” 

Nearby, an officer lets out a guttural cry, “Please, baby. Gimme more.”

That pulls Batwoman’s attention away, and Ivy drags it back with the drag of her nails across the material of her uniform. “Shh. Don’t mind them. They can’t even hear us over the sound of their own sex.”

Batwoman’s voice is husky as she pulls the top of Ivy’s corset down. “You sure?”

“Mmhm. Happens all the time.” Batwoman laughs at that, and moans as Ivy’s hands dally around her utility belt. “Now, aren’t these things booby trapped?”

Nodding, Batwoman whispers. “Security disengage: Code Sappho.” The utility belt snaps open falling into her hands. 

Ivy laughs. “Oh my god .”

“Laugh all you want. I’m changing it as soon as this is over.”

Setting the belt aside, Ivy runs a finger down to Batwoman’s crotch. She drinks in the hiss from her lips, adding more pressure and more fingers, drawing heat between her legs and hopefully a little wetness. “You like that, don’t you.” 

“Nn, fuck.” Batwoman leans into her touch. She’s a goner. 

Ivy loves this part of the game, taking the most stubborn partner and watering their desire until it breaks them apart like tree roots in a sidewalk. It’s different from when she makes love to Harley. This is less like romance and more like chess. How many moves until she queens her king? “That’s it. Tell me what feels good.”

Batwoman’s knees go weak, and Ivy shoves her into a rolling chair. She presses the heel of her hand into her groin. “Oh g-- . Mm.” Gasping, Bats grabs Ivy's hand and shoves it into her own pants. 

“Mm, demanding, aren’t you?” Ivy bites her ear lobe. “I like that.”

“Just get it o --oh. ” Bats leans into Ivy’s skillful touch, and she plays her like a violin, basking in the melody ringing from her lips. But Batwoman would never let a bad girl win, now would she?

Teeth graze Ivy’s neck, and the gasp slips from her mouth faster she can stop it. 

“Oh fuck. Fuck yes. Right there.” It no longer registers which goon is saying what. They could all be chanting in unison for all Ivy knows. And she doesn’t care. 

Batwoman licks the red line she’s created, and she squeezes Ivy’s breast through her uniform, just on the edge of too hard . She knows exactly what she’s doing. Check . Ivy catches her mouth, tasting her, drawing quick, tight circles around her clit. Just as Bats quakes in her arms, Ivy pulls back. “Oh come on, ” she groans.

“You get tied up a lot , don’t you?” Ivy glances at the zamioculus zamifolia, potted at the opposite desk corner. “You must enjoy it, then.” Batsy’s eyes widen as the vines stretch towards her. “Why else would you keep going to work?”

“It’s annoying as fuck--” The vines halt their progress, and shudder, and the Bat licks her lips. “--On the job.”

“That’s more like it.” The vines curl and twist around Bat’s wrists, binding her to the chair. Two more bind the chair, albeit loosely, to the desk. Let her move her hips, without letting her roll away. Once she’s in place, Ivy sways her hips, slowly undoing the zipper in her one piece suit. She lets it slide down her skin, and Ivy presses her bare breasts into Bat’s face, and just for a moment her mark closes her eyes, breathing her in. 

Ivy frowns. This won’t do. This won’t do at all. She whisks the vines away, and Batwoman stares at her. Pulling back again, Ivy kicks her suit past her ankles, and tosses the keyboard aside. She sits on the desk with her legs spread wide. “I’m gonna need you to bed over, darling.” 

“I’m not your darling.” Bats turns her chair around, leaning down, and breathing in Ivy’s musk. She barely remembers to tie her up again. 

It occurs to Ivy that she hasn’t let anyone other than Harley get this close in a very long time. Usually Ivy leaves her marks to die after they get her pheromones in their system. There was that one time with Selina when one of their capers went sideways. While Ivy swore up and down, Catwoman pulled her goggles away from her eyes and kissed her full on the mouth. And things escalated from there. But that was before Harley. 

Batwoman takes her sweet time tasting her, and Ivy finds herself gripping the desk with white knuckles. No. She won’t let her know how nice this feels-- oh. Oh God. “ Fuck.” 

And then Batwoman pulls back. “Has Harley been gone that long?”....Did she say that last part out loud?

“Fuck you.”

Tilting her head to the side, Batwoman asks, “Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

Oh, but Ivy wants to wipe that coy smile off that face and replace it with her pleas for mercy. “Almost. Do you prefer to be teased or penetrated?” Ivy leans forward with her breasts pressed together, her words clinical and her grin anything but. 

Bats dares to look her over, drinking the sheen on her skin. Her mouth never quite closes. She licks her lips, almost panting as she asks. “Must I choose?”

Ivy takes Bat’s chin in her hands. “Greedy, aren’t you?”

Whatever Bat’s snarky reply is, it’s lost in Ivy’s mouth as she claims her once more. This time neither of them hold back, devouring each other sloppily and noisily. Ivy trails kisses down Bat’s neck, and she summons another vine. The tiniest, softest leaf brushes across Bat’s clit. Batwoman cries out sharply, straining against her bonds. 

“Ready?” Ivy pulls the vine back, examining the wetness dripping down its stalk. Oh, she’s ready all right. But Ivy wants to hear her say it. 

“Ivy .” 

Digging her fingers into Bat’s chin, Ivy nearly growls. “ Beg for it. ” The vine teases her clit faster, not harder, never quite getting her where she wants it. No, needs it. 

Goosebumps run down Batwoman’s arms. “ Please.”

How fortunate that one of the cubicle dwellers has taken to growing a ficus ginseng microcarpa as a bonsai tree. Ivy draws out one of the aerial roots, sculpting it into the right shape. She slides a condom on it, safety first, of course, and lets the plant do the rest. It enters Bats slowly, slowly filling her up. Her eyes bulge as it pulls back, and pushes back in. No sound spills from her mouth, but her hips shift, thrusting with the plant as it fucks her. 

Fuck, but Ivy’s mouth is dry. Her thighs twitch, rubbing together hungrily as she watches. She wants to touch herself so bad but she won’t give Batwoman that satisfaction. She won’t. She...

Batwoman’s face twists, and her mouth pinches shut. Her back arches and the chair squeaks across the floor. The groan rasps out of her mouth as her jaw drops into the perfect Oh. 

“Not bad.” Ivy picks some lint off of her arm, releasing Batwoman from her bonds. “The antidote should be working now. Thank you for the view --” 

The vigilante charges forward, gripping Ivy’s arms and pressing her back into the desk. Ivy watches the monitor crash to the floor. “I’m not done yet.” Batwoman’s signature lipstick has smeared across her chin in a very un-Batlike fashion. Her gloved fingers poke at Ivy’s clit, and she hisses. “Still sensitive, aren’t we? Still unsatisfied?” Her voice drops low and teasing, and fuck, Ivy won’t tell her to fuck off now . 

Those same fingers that cast batarangs and grip grappling hooks dig into her, twisting and pulling. A chorus of cries ring out in harmony with her own, as Ivy lifts her hips off the desk, thrusting into Batwoman’s touch. “Yes. Yes.” Bats grins into Ivy’s mouth, drawing out her moans. Harley would do the same thing, but Ivy doesn’t want to think about her right now. She doesn’t want to think about anything at this moment. She draws up a vine, letting it coat itself in its own juices. Nice and easy , she tells herself, pulling away from Batwoman so she can look her in the eyes. 

The vine slithers between her butt cheeks, small end first. Batwoman raises her eyebrows, but she doesn’t stop her delicious torment. In fact, she licks her lips a little. “Ah, fuck. Fuck. ” Her hand works in tandem with Ivy’s vines, pushing and pulling her hips back and forth like a rubber band. She chuckles into Ivy’s mouth, claiming it again, tasting it again. Only chuckling louder as Ivy begs and begs for release. Batmwoman clenches Ivy’s hip with her free hand, digging in her fingers so she feels that much more used . And fuck her, Ivy loves it. 

If the pigs nearby are still fucking, Ivy can’t hear them. 

She doesn’t even hear herself moaning into Batwoman’s ear. She only hears the slick as she’s fucked from both sides. And oh , the fullness of both . Ivy grips Batwoman’s shoulders to keep from shaking apart, and she bites the skin of her neck as she explodes with the heat of the sun.

Ivy stretches as the vine and Batwoman pull back, and she hums with satisfaction. Batwoman watches her with molten eyes. “Should we go agai--”

Ding! The computer chimes nearby. 

Ivy sits up quickly, shaking off the last vestiges of her afterglow, slinking her one piece on and zipping it up the back. The zipper gets stuck, and before she can weigh the pros and cons of asking , gloved fingers finish the job for her. “Transfer’s done.”

“Finally.”  Ivy grabs her boots, marching to the office barefoot. 

Batwoman clicks a few keys, and whistles . “Mission’s already done. She’s at Metropolis General.”

“She’s hurt !?” A branch snaps in a horrid crack behind them. 

“She was, but she’s being discharged today. Better hurry.”

Batwoman doesn’t need to tell her twice. 

Ivy pauses to don her boots in the hallway. Nearby she hears the sound of a half-a-dozen special response officers zipping up their flies. “Ah, fuck. I lost a button. Anyone see the button to my uniform?”

“Fuck off. At least you’re not missing a contact lens.” 

“Hey! Who stole my gun?”

“Ah shit. Mine too.”

Leaving them behind, Ivy chuckles. The green always knows how to take good care of her. Soon she’ll return the favor.

------

Room 23. The hospital stretches on in an endless maze. Ivy forces herself not to run, to carry her empty clipboard like she’s a doctor making her rounds. Just act like she belongs there and no one will notice. So far so--

Ivy’s heart soars when she spots the room number. 

“Harley!”

Harley shoots up in bed, swaying a little, but her shit eating grin tells Ivy everything will be okay. “Pretty girl!”

Ivy sits on the bed, planting a shy kiss on Harley’s lips. “I need to tell you something.” She explains the events of the past 24 hours, and Harley’s eyes go wide. Twisting her hands, Ivy waits an eternity for Harley to reply.

“Was she good? Do you think she’d be down for a threesome?”

“Harley!”

[thran-duils]

Watch Me Burn (P.3)

Title: Watch Me Burn (Part Three) Summary: Fem!Reader x AU!Cas. Fem!Reader x AU!Sam. This fic was inspired by both parts of “Love the Way You Lie” by Eminem & Rihanna. Castiel and the reader are toxic for each other and keep falling back together until the reader moved away. It’s been years and now she is back home, waltzing back into Castiel’s life. She is determined to do better this time, to make them work, but outside forces as well as the scars the two have left on each other weave their way into their reconciliation. Will they be able to overcome the past and new threats to their sustainability? Words: 2,011 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Extreme angst, domestic violence, smut, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, BDSM trust breaking, fluff, language, alcohol abuse, !!! eventual !!! happiness Author’s Note: Italics are the past!

Chap Two || Chap Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fic masterpost

“What would you like to try pleasure wise? Would you like to please me or vise versa? Or both?”

Castiel was watching you intently, gauging your reaction to the question. His fingers toyed with the lace at your breast; you had bought yourself a new baby doll and had surprised him with it by waiting on his bed for him to return from downstairs at the bar. Castiel was hard already, the outline of his cock pressed up against his boxers.

“You.”

His brows raised in surprise. “Truly?”

You nodded.

Castiel’s fingers ghosted down your frame, approval etched in his features. His hands found your thong, giving it a rough tug and you obliged him, lifting your legs to help him tear it off of you.

Stepping away from the bed, he tossed the thong in the corner as he told you, “On your knees then.”

You did as he asked, heart hammering. The two of you had only been dating for a couple of months and he had put forth the suggestion the last time you two were together about trying out a dominant and submissive play. You had engaged in dirty talk and been spanked a few times by past partners, but the way Castiel talked, he took it more seriously. Not outside of the bedroom, he explained that did not interest him. But inside the bedroom…

As you adjusted yourself, Castiel told you firmly, “If you feel uncomfortable, you use that safe word. Do you understand?”

You nodded, not looking him in the eyes.

His hand tucked under your chin, forcing you to look up at him and in the eyes. He stared deep and repeated himself, “Do you understand? I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes. I understand. I’ll say ‘yellow’.”

Satisfied, he stepped back away from you, his hand palming himself. “Now, you stay still. You’re not allowed to leave the ground until I tell you directly.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes not leaving you as he adjusted himself to be comfortable before releasing himself from the confines of his underwear. His free hand reached for the lube, putting a generous amount on his cock.

“Play with your tits.”

Raising your hands, you cupped your breasts, slowly circling your fingers around your nipples. His hand moved faster, watching you slip your fingers underneath the fabric, squeezing at yourself. You wished it were his hands at you, caressing your skin. Yet, being the source of his viewing pleasure was stirring butterflies.

“Spread yourself out for me. Show me that pussy,” Castiel husked. Leaning back, you moved your legs to show him what he desired. “Mhm, touch yourself.” He groaned when you spread your lips, rubbing at your nub.

There was a high creeping in, watching him bask in you. You drank it in, his eyes zeroed in on your core, his rhythm quick on his cock.

Castiel rasped, “Come here.”

Eager to feel him, you were quick to get up, but he snapped his fingers at you, stilling your movement. “I didn’t tell you that you could leave the ground.”

Sinking back down, you moved onto your hands and knees and looked at him for approval. He nodded, murmuring his approval. You crawled to him, stopping at his feet, staring hungrily at his thick cock.

He chuckled seeing where your desire was. “Open.” Castiel held your head steady as he pushed the swollen head of his cock past your lips. His eyes were blown black with lust, biting his bottom lip as he pushed another inch. “Swirl your tongue, angel.”

You drew sighs of contentment from him as you bobbed, your tongue lapping at him greedily. His hips bucked towards you, pushing himself all the further down your throat. He hissed when he hit the back of your throat, his fingers wrapping up in your hair.

“Mhm, that’s a good girl,” he praised. “So, so good, angel.”

Castiel’s fingers tightened in your hair and you winced at the tug but continued to follow his lead. He held you in place, using your mouth for his own, broken gasps of adoration falling from his lips for you and you alone. When he came with a loud, long groan, you swallowed your prize, eyes locked on him throwing his head back as he emptied himself.

He all but collapsed back onto his elbows, you free to move your head once more. You licked at your lips, resting back on your calves as you awaited his next request.

“Shit,” Castiel breathed deeply. “Come up here, Y/N. Next to me.”

Pulling you to him, he kissed your forehead. You snuggled into his side, peering up at him.

“How do you feel?” he asked sincerely.

“Tired.”

He chuckled, “You know what I mean.”

Biting your bottom lip, you thought for a moment before answering, “Good. Except for when I almost disobeyed.”

The corner of his mouth up ticked. “You are learning. It will get easier. You did well, Y/N.”

You did well.

Warmth spread through you at the compliment.

<> <> <>

Strolling out of the bedroom, you maneuvered your way around the boxes you had piled up by the dining room table. It had only taken a few days for you to give in and ask Castiel if you could start moving in, to which he had barely hesitated to respond yes. You were planning on taking small trips back and forth to the storage unit to clear it out in increments rather than inundate yourselves with an apartment full of moving boxes. Some currently in the place were open from the unpacking you had started earlier in the evening but had decided to take a break to make dinner so Castiel would have something to eat when he came home. You had texted him too to let him know to keep his hands off the fried food coming out of the kitchen; you were going to make him something healthy. His snarky response had only served to make you more determined he liked what you were going to make him. And he had, requesting seconds.

Snatching your wine bottle off the counter, you poured yourself a glass before going to join Castiel on the couch. Moans were coming from the TV and you saw a heavy sex scene playing. “Do you need me to leave?” you half joked.

“Shut up. It’s Game of Thrones,” Castiel laughed in response.

You watched the couple intertwined together, both fighting for dominance of each other.

Feeling mischievous, you asked nonchalantly, “How many people you been with since I left?”

Castiel side eyed you and you merely smirked in response. Clearing his throat, Castiel said, “A few.”

You snorted and took a small drink of your wine.

“You gonna share with the class?”

“A few.”

“Hmm. Cute.”

“I try to be.”

Shifting to face him, you took a long drink of your wine, staring at him.

Castiel turned his head, returning your stare. “Can I help you?”

You slid off the couch to your knees, Castiel’s eyes locked onto you. You pushed his legs apart and placed yourself in between, looking up at him with feigned innocence.

Cocking his head, he asked, “If I had known Game of Thrones would get you down in this position so quickly, I might have done it the first night back.”

You hummed, running your hands up his thighs. “Just figured it would be a nice top off to the night. You know, I cooked dinner – a healthy, home made one, just for you. There’s wine… it just seems like a cute, homey date night should end with some less than… polished… graceful… sex.” As you spoke, you undid his belt, hands moving to his zipper next. “A bit risqué, if you will.”

Castiel swallowed sharply, his eyes not leaving yours. You could see desire swimming in them already. “Oh, I would not oppose to that.”

It did not take long to get him good and hard and you found yourself sucking him with fervor, the show long forgotten.

“Sure missed this,” Castiel groaned, his hand falling behind your head and his fingers laced into your hair, holding tight. “Stay still.”

You did as he commanded, letting him use your mouth. Castiel’s fingers dug into the back of your head, low moans of desire escaping his lips. Tightening your lips around him, you watched him throw his head back, his hips bucking faster. You moaned around his cock as it bounced repeatedly off the back of your throat; it was getting to be too much.

When he slowed and relented for just a moment, you said muffled, “Yellow.”

Castiel pulled out fully immediately, his eyes laced with concerned as you gagged. You had thought you were going to get sick which is why you had used your safe word. Castiel remembered it too. Of course, he did; he was always a good dom.

“Are you alright?”

Nodding your head, you said strained, “I’ll be okay in a minute.”

He gave a nod of understanding, moving his hand to keep himself erect to give you space and time while you recovered and were ready to resume.

The fact he stopped set you off. He heeded your request and did not ignore you or force you further.

Unlike…

Tears came to your eyes despite yourself and you swiftly tried to brush them away embarrassed.

Castiel’s hands came to you, struggling to make you look up at him, but you refused. “Angel, what’s wrong?” You tried to pull away, but he held tight, continuing to try to get you to make eye contact. “Y/N? Are you hurt?”

“No,” you sniffled, shaking your head. “I’m not hurt. I’m not… I’m okay.”

“You don’t sound or look okay,” Castiel said firmly. You sniffled again and Castiel said more gently this time, “Hey… look at me. Please?”

Slowly, you turned your gaze up to him. He was exploring your eyes, trying to make sense of why you were distraught. You felt sick now for a completely different reason. You did not want to divulge anything right now, you just wanted to have sex. Thinking about it any more would ruin the moment and that is the last thing you wanted.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Castiel asked softly.

“Really. It’s fine. I just—”

“Y/N, I’m not going to be able to be turned on knowing you really aren’t okay,” Castiel told you and you let out a pathetic whimper, trying to look away again, but he stopped you from doing so. “I’m just being honest. So… do you want to talk?”

He was not going to let it go. You should not be surprised; this was Castiel you were talking about.

Sighing, you threw your hand out, trying to downplay it by brushing it off with a gesture. “I just… I had a bad experience once with… some guy who wanted to try the whole dom/sub out.”

Castiel’s face was hard hearing this and rightfully so.

You shrugged, still trying to downplay, “He just didn’t listen when I used my safe word. So, I guess… I just got choked up because you did.”

“If it is going to trigger you, Y/N—”

“Cas, no. Really. I’ll be okay. I just need to realize I’m safe here.” He looked unconvinced and you grasped his hand, trying to look as sincere as you could muster, because you really did mean it. “It’s nice to be back here… with you. Really. I just need to settle back in. I know I keep saying that, but I really mean it and I want to.”

Silence fell between the two of you and you squeezed his hand again, trying to reassure him that you truly were okay.

He touched the side of your face and told you, “I’m sorry. But… I’m glad you told me. Don’t feel bad about having to take some time.” Nodding, you forced a small smile, which he returned. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass @splendidcas

[brokenmimir]

The Curse of the Golden Hoard

White Rose Week 2020, Day 5: Curse

In Vale, success breeds misfortune as readily as failure.

(Sequel to The Ruby Eye of the Serpent King)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24718948 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13615480/1/The-Curse-of-the-Golden-Hoard

Weiss rolled her eyes as Yang threw the door open, the solid oak banging against the interior wall loudly, drawing the attention of all of Beacon. Normally she would've been angry at the brute attracting the potential ire of as many dangerous people as routinely visited the small tavern, but in that moment she was too elated to care.

Still, appearances had to maintained, even if her heart wasn't in it. “Yang…”

“Sorry, ice queen,” Yang sang. “Guess I forgot my own strength. How 'bout I make it up to everyone with a round of drinks on me!”

“Yeah!” the room cheered, and Peter Port smiled behind his thick mustache as he began preparing drinks for the relaxing crowd, who were all discretely tucking away the weapons they had prepared against the forceful entry.

Yang strutted over to their usual table, throwing the heavy sack she'd been carrying down on it, making it clink suggestively for those with an ear for gold. Blake did the same, and then Ruby as well, until all three looked at her expectantly. Finally, with a long suffering sigh, Weiss heaved her own sack onto the table, privately enjoying the sound of their new fortune.

“We're going to be robbed the moment we step out of here,” Weiss complained as she sat down, an unrepentant Ruby hopping onto her lap with a grin. Weiss grunted a little at the weight, as for as petite as she looked, the barbarian girl was all densely packed muscle, built lean and wiry for maximum speed and agility.

“Like anyone can take us,” Yang snorted. “I don't know about anyone else, but I'm feeling good tonight!”

Blake grabbed their drinks, a glass of mead for Ruby and red wine for Weiss, and soon all four clinked their glasses together. “To friends and family!” Ruby cried.

“To a job well done,” Blake added.

“To having fun,” Weiss put in.

“To being filthy stinkin' rich!” Yang crowed, and all four downed their drinks. “Hey Port, another round on us!"

“There's no way we're going to make it back in safety after this,” Weiss said. “And you'd better not dip into our haul to pay for all of this; we haven't even divvied it up yet.”

“Ugh, you are such a killjoy,” Yang groaned. “Come on, live a little! When are we ever gonna get this much again. And it wasn't even illegal!”

“Well, not very illegal, anyway,” Blake drawled. “I'm sure we broke some laws. You can barely breathe in Vale with pissing off some magistrate.”

Weiss hummed thoughtfully. “The tower was probably owned by someone, for all that it's been abandoned since the Grimm attack centuries ago. Furthermore, we are supposed to declare any salvage for tax purposes. So on at least two levels we broke the law.”

“Ugh, Vale sucks,” Yang groaned, before taking a swig of her ale. “Of course, I can't party like this back home. Even if I brought back this good've a haul somehow the elders would've just taken it to 'spend on the village' and I'd be expected to go right back out there.

“So not that different,” Weiss chuckled. “Except here, everyone's so corrupt that no one is going to report you for not following the law. It's just a matter of if you can keep your ill gotten gains.”

Hours later, drunk with success and alcohol, the four girls staggered out of Beacon and onto the filthy streets of Vale. Not even stepping over a mugged corpse could get Ruby down that evening. Nothing could distract her from how right everything felt.

When she'd first arrived in Vale five months before she'd been an outsider, a barbarian unable to understand or accept anything about the city she'd been warned about her entire life. The first person she'd made a real connection to, Weiss, hadn't really simplified things, as the beautiful woman had represented everything her people had looked down upon about the city folk.

But somehow, after those few short months, full of combat, wealth, deprivation, magic, fear, and joy, they had bonded more strongly than she ever thought she could with an outsider. She spent more time with Weiss than she did her own sister, despite both of them being in the same city. And somehow, she wouldn't change a thing.

“Hey, which way should we go?” Yang asked, as she casually slugged an opportunistic moron in the jaw. His head snapped around, teeth flying, before he collapsed bonelessly onto the ancient cobblestones.

After pausing to rob the thieves of the few coppers they had, Blake pointed down the street. “Ruby's place is closer.”

“It's my flat,” Weiss grumbled. “I'm the one who signed the contract for it."

“Ruby's sounds good,” Yang agreed. “Come on sis, let's go crash you're place and split some loot.”

Weiss grumbled a little, but Ruby could tell that it was mostly for appearances, and even that stopped when she moved close enough to rest her head on the other woman's shoulder. Weiss actually blushed a little, which Ruby found more than a little funny. Weiss had no shame at all about nudity or sex, but honest, public affection made her quite embarrassed.

Once Yang and Blake had dealt with the criminals who had seen or heard about their largesse and its probably cause at Beacon, they made good progress, soon arriving at Weiss's apartment building. Unlike the cheap flophouses and rundown hovels that populated most of the poorer part of town, it was a newly renovated building, one only two blocks from the nicer living spaces that surrounded the Great Market. Obviously the owner either expected for merchants to be bold enough to make the journey through the crime ridden streets in exchange for cheaper rent, or they thought that the market district would soon grow to encompass the building. Either way, it was far nicer than it had any right to be, and had been available for a price that they could (barely) afford.

Once Weiss had the door unlocked they entered the main living area, and without a word all four began to dump their sacks out in the center of the floor. Coins and small gems made up the bulk of the haul, but a variety of statuettes, jewelry, and idols joined the growing pile. It was an impressive display of wealth, and for all that gold had relatively little allure for her, even she felt herself caught up in the moment, drooling over enough wealth to buy her village.

“Weiss,” Yang said distantly.

“Yes?”

“Remind me to team up with you more often,” Yang sighed joyfully.

Weiss smirked, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder smugly. “Of course. A little bit of research, and enough muscle to make it through some Grimm infested ruins, and we have more money than we know what to do with.”

“Little bit of research?” Ruby asked. “Weiss, you've done nothing but plan this thing for weeks now. I was actually getting a bit worried.”

“Why would you be worried?” Blake asked. “A good score always requires careful planning.”

“'Cause I've never seen Weiss fret over this kinda thing before,” Ruby said. “Usually Weiss doesn't worry about money at all. It was more than a little odd.”

“This was a lot of money,” Blake said, patting her sack.

“Not as much as the snake guy had,” Ruby pointed out.

“No,” Weiss grunted, before smirking. “But this is gold in my home. There's a big difference.”

“Hell yeah, there is,” Yang crowed, scooping up a handful of gold coins and tossing them in the air. “We're rich!”

It was far too late at night when they finally finished splitting the money, and with the help of a few bottles of wine that Weiss had gleefully shared, Blake and Yang were in no condition to walk home, so she graciously let them sleep on her floor near the fireplace for the night. With their own fortune secured in sacks, Weiss and Ruby retreated to their bedroom, where, after a brief moment of thought, she dumped the sacks on the center of the bed.

“What are you doing?” Ruby asked with a giggle.

“Just a fantasy of mine,” Weiss said, removing Ruby's cloak and letting it fall to the floor. With deft, well practiced fingers she swiftly stripped Ruby completely naked, taking a moment to admire her strong, lean form. As she always did she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the scar she'd received fending off an assassin to save her life, before straightening up and shoving the barbarian back onto the bed.

“Hey! Ack!” Ruby complained. “That's cold.”

“If that's another ice queen joke,” Weiss grumbled as she straddled her lover.

“No, I mean, it's like, really cold,” Ruby said. “And kinda hard. And a little pointy.”

Weiss giggled like a child as she hovered over Ruby, sliding a hand through the gold and gems covering her bed. “Ah, come on. I've always wanted to make love in a pile of gold, and this is my chance. You're not going to say no, are you?”

Ruby just smiled up at her. “How much wine have you had to drink, anyway?”

She giggled again. “Way too much.”

Instead of replying Ruby pulled her down, and the two began to kiss, quickly growing heated as hands wandered. Eventually Ruby started trying to pull at Weiss's clothing, and she pulled back, standing from the bed.

“What?” Ruby panted.

“Just stay there,” Weiss said, before slowly, sensually beginning to remove her own clothing. She'd seen many, many dances put on to entertain crowds and rile up guests for more personal services, and while she'd never felt a need to put on such a show for a lover, she put every bit of her grace into it, the slight stumbles her drunkenness caused interfering very little with the display. Ruby's silver eyes were wide open, and Weiss grinned like the cat who caught the canary as she finally stripped the last item away, letting the silken undergarment drift to the ground.

She straddled Ruby again, but before she continued she spotted a piece of treasure sitting beside her lover. It was the appropriate size and shape, and with a wicked grin she picked it up, before leaning down and kissing Ruby again.

“Ack! Cold!”

Ruby wasn't sure what woke her up. Normally after so much mead and intimacy with Weiss she'd sleep the whole night through, but something pulled at her consciousness. It was a cold feeling, and at first she mentally blamed the treasure pile that Weiss had insisted they sleep on like they were legendary dragons. It wasn't quite that, however. The cold was deeper, in her heart, and she found herself shivering despite the blankets and warm body next to her.

Opening her eyes, she couldn't really see anything. It was dark, even darker than it should've been, as normally some dim light made it through the windows even deep in the heart of the night. She swallowed thickly, knowing on some level that something was wrong, although she couldn't put her finger on what. The same deep, primal sense that warned her when a dangerous beast was lurking about in the wilderness told her something was very, very wrong.

“Weiss, Weiss, wake up,” she whispered, still slowly turning her head from one side to the other as she tried to make out something in the pitch blackness. “Weiss.”

“Ughhhh,” Weiss groaned, shifting slightly closer and tossing a leg over her hip. “Again? You're starting to wear even me out.”

“Weiss, something's wrong,” Ruby whispered.

“Yeah, you're not asleep,” Weiss mumbled. “I promise, I'll do whatever you want… in the morning. Just need a… a little more sleep.”

“That's not… ugh,” Ruby groaned as Weiss fell back asleep. With a sigh she pushed her lover away, standing up stiffly and stumbling from the bed, coins and other valuables falling to the floor in a cascade of invisible gold. The sound seemed strangely dampened, however, as the heavy metal should've been louder falling more than a foot onto the wooden floor.

“I am never going to sleep on money again,” Ruby whimpered, rubbing her back and wincing when she dislodged a coin that had managed to embed itself into her flesh. No, she definitely wasn't doing that again, no matter how excited her weird fantasy had made Weiss.

It was hard finding her clothing in total darkness, especially since she'd been a bit distracted by Weiss while she'd stripped her. Once she finally had something on she reclaimed her battle scythe and carefully opened the door to the rest of the apartment, not wanting to risk walking in on her sister and Blake having their own celebration.

Instead, it was pitch black as well, but she could hear muffled snoring coming from the center of the room. “Blake? Yang?”

They didn't respond, even when she called again, and with her heart pounding in her throat she stumbled through the room, heading to where Weiss kept a candle for dark nights. Usually they navigated just fine by starlight, but sometimes her lover wanted to read in the evening, and she had to have something for that.

Normally finding the candle in the dark wouldn't have been difficult, but it felt like she was somehow being watched, like danger was all around her, ready to pounce. The longer she spent in that dark, quiet room, the more she felt vulnerable, like she was being hunted by an unknown predator. With unsteady hands she finally grasped the fine beeswax candle, a gift from herself to replace the stinky, smokey tallow Weiss had been using, and she pulled flint and steel from her pouch.

It was only as she tried to strike the tinder that she realized how badly her hands were shaking. She actually paused in her work in surprise, not quite able to believe it. It felt like it had been years since she'd had such a strong, useless reaction to fear, and yet here she was, shaking like a child on her first hunt. For the first time she was almost glad that it was dark, since it meant that no one could see her weakness.

After taking several long, deep breaths to gather herself Ruby finally regained her control, striking the flint and steel to produce strangely dull sparks. It took several tries, but finally the tinder took, and then the wick thereafter, lighting the candle.

It did almost nothing for the darkness. The large candle should've provided enough light to easily make out the room, but instead it seemed to be little more than a single point in the middle of a deep, dark blackness. She couldn't even see the walls of the room, and it was far from being so large as to make that reasonable.

Something was very, very wrong.

Ruby quickly, methodically searched the apartment. It wasn't very large, but with her light the way it was she had to take her time looking everywhere. Everything was as it should be, with no signs of intruders or anything else strange, other than the muffling of all sound and dampening of all light.

Yang and Blake were still asleep, which she supposed was strange in its own right. Yang was a heavy sleeper, but normally it was impossible to do anything without waking Blake up. Even a shift in the pattern of your breathing would cause her cat ears to twitch warily, but Ruby was able to crouch over her, burning candle in hand, without it disturbing her dreams.

With nothing wrong inside of the apartment, Ruby decided to check one last thing before waking up the others. Opening the door, she crept outside, looking about warily, before heading down to the street. While they were usually dark at night, with most honest citizens (for some meaning of the term) carrying lanterns if they had some business at that late of an hour, the stars and distant buildings usually gave enough illumination for her trained eyes to navigate the streets.

Instead Ruby looked around, frowning at the excessive dimness, before deciding to walk a bit to see where the dimming effect began and ended. She had only begun to walk when she spotted a body lying against the side of the building. She almost moved on, her time in Vale having conditioned her to ignore peopleliving or dead lying in the street, something that had been difficult to get used to after growing up in insular, tightly knit Patch. Without Weiss or Blake around to scold her for it, she decided to check on the person.

They were a woman of more than twice her years, with a face made up with powders and creams to seem younger, if poorly,something severely undermined by black streaks under her eyes. She was dressed in very little clothing, and from what Ruby could guess, were she younger and more attractive, the Weiss she had first met upon arriving in Vale would probably have paid for her services.

She also shouldn't have been passed out in the streets, without any sign of injury or intoxication causing her collapse. Ruby checked her pulse, and was relieved to find it, although it seemed slow, sluggish. She tried to shake her awake, but she didn't react at all, and it was then that she noticed something else odd. The black streaks, which she had assumed had come from tears mixing with kohl, were slimy and thick, and her eyes widened when she realized that their was a black streak on the wall behind her as well. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but if she had to guess, she'd say that the black ooze ran straight up the wall towards her window.

Ruby's fear sharpened, no longer seeming quite so baseless. She might've been able to dismiss her instincts crying out that something was wrong, or even somehow assumed that the muffling of sound and light were only in her head. But this was far more suspicious, and the only thing that kept her from running up the stairs was the burning candle in her hands, and how difficult it had been for her to light it in the first place.

As she hurried back towards the door she noticed two more bodies, this time a pair of laborers, tall and strong, collapsed near the street corner. While the woman may have been taking a break in the alley before continuing her walk or job, they were obviously taken by surprise, simply collapsing on the spot without a word. It was enough to make her speed up her step, using the arm holding her scythe to shield her candle as best as she could from the wind of her movement.

When she reached her door she paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, leaning her deployed battle scythe against her shoulder so that she could carefully open the door without setting down her candle. It creaked open, and the gloom within was somehow even thicker, more impenetrable than before. The candle barely seemed to do anything, but she could somehow see something moving in the dark.

“Yang? Blake? Weiss?”

There was no response, but she heard something shifting in the room. Jaw tightening, she stepped inside, carefully shutting the door before her, before raising her scythe, choking up her grip to provide control one handed. It was a poor way to fight, but without better lighting she had no choice.

She slowly made her way across the room, eyes darting about, her heart jumping every time she saw something move, but every time it was simply her eyes playing tricks on her. Every figure was a piece of furniture, every attacker was naught but a shadow shadow, every monster an illusion when examined properly in the dim light.

When she reached her sister she nudged her with a toe. “Yang. Yang… Yang!”

She didn't move, didn't react. Finally, Ruby looked down, only to gasp at what she saw. Trailing down her face were the same thick, slimy black trails, as something apparently poured from her eyes, before being drawn across the room in the direction of the bedroom. One final glance at Blake to verify the same thing, and she was moving towards the bedroom door, keeping one eye on the slime trail while looking around for danger.

She didn't even bother opening the door, simply kicking it open, the loud slam a barely audible thud. Looming over the bed, over Weiss, was the most hideous creature she had ever seen.

It was thin, with long, spindly limbs, the feet coming to a single, sharp point, while the arms ended in three long, slender claws. The rest of the body was like a human shadow, angular and distorted, but recognizable in form, with bony plates scattered here and there, notably a skull and ribs. The face was vaguely human in shape under the bone, with burning red coals for eyes, and a gaping, fang filled maw.

Without hesitating she lunged forward, swinging her scythe in a broad, desperate stroke, hitting nothing but air. Unfortunately, the fast motion made the candle gutter out to almost nothing, and she was reduced to standing perfectly still, knowing there was a monster in the dark, unable to do a thing to stop it. She tried to listen, tried to feel the motion of the air, or see something in the dim ember of candle light, but it was like being wrapped in a blanket of night. All was still, silent, and shadowed.

After far too long the candle finally stopped sputtering, and Ruby turned about looking for the monster once more. It was when she had turned halfway around that she saw it, the thing having moved behind her, ready to attack once more. She swung her scythe again, trying her best to shield the candle with her body, but once again the tiny light failed, and she could do nothing but stand still, desperately hoping to find it before it could attack her again.

Then she felt the claws dig into her back. She reacted instantly to the sneak attack, diving forward into a roll that ended with her swinging her scythe, and this time, finally, she made contact. The monster broke its silence with a loud, terrible screech, which tore through her, scraping her bones for marrow and hollowing out her heart, leaving nothing but ice and fear behind.

This time she could hear it moving, the dullness slightly receded, and she didn't even hesitate, dropping the now completely snuffed candle on the ground as she spun in place, swinging her scythe right towards where she was sure the monster was. She made contact once again, and this blow sheared through something, and a moment later she heard something thump onto the floor, before the shrieking renewed.

Unfortunately her next swing missed, and her follow up hit the wall, so she paused, holding her scythe in both hands, trying to slow her breathing as she listened for the monster once again. She almost lashed out when she heard another sound, only to pause as she recognized Weiss's voice, even if she couldn't hold onto the words passing through her ears and mind. She shuddered, the motion agitating the cut on her back, and then the room was finally illuminated.

Weiss, nude and beautiful as ever, crouched on the bed, her sword in hand covered in a pale, spectral blue flame. She looked weak, her hand trembling, unable to fully stand as she held the weapon as high as she could through her enervation, trying to provide the best light she could. Ruby could see the lines of black slime down her own face, as whatever had happened to the others has been done to her as well.

Then Ruby turned, reacting almost before she sensed it, swinging her scythe once more at the monster. It was looming behind her once more, its left hand missing from her earlier attack, and, finally able to see, Ruby aimed her swing directly towards its neck. The scythe cut through, and the head bounced away, breaking down into the same black ooze before turning into the oily, smokey fog of a dead Grimm, its body slowly following.

“Weiss!” Ruby shouted, lowering her scythe and turning to her lover. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” she rasped, raising a shaking hand to her face, rubbing away the slime with a look of disgust. “What the hell was that?”

Weiss had never felt so completely drained in her life. Not after performing all night magical rituals with Cinder and the others, not after the frantic, desperate sword training lessons her sister gave her before she left to become a mercenary, not even after the wild, week long benders that dragged her to half the houses of ill repute in the city trying to forget everything. It was as though every bit of energy had been ripped from her body, leaving nothing but exhaustion in its place.

She'd used what little energy she had left to cleanse and bind Ruby's injury, the process wearing her out so badly that her lover had been forced to dress her, as she could do little more than slowly shift her limbs by the time the process was complete. Ruby had, much to her protestations, actually carried her into the main room, where she set her on a large chair and lit several candles.

Blake and Yang stirred sluggishly, Blake finally sitting up and blinking dazedly around the room. She didn't even seem to the notice the slime on her face, her nearly vacant expression only gaining a little focus when she saw them. “Weiss… Ruby. What happened?”

“Grimm,” Ruby answered. “I've never seen anything like it.”

Blake blink a couple of times, before starting to stand only to collapse when her legs wouldn't support her weight. She blinked down at them, an expression of betrayal on her face, before looking back up at Ruby for answers.

“I don't know,” Ruby said. “Weiss's the same, and I think it wasn't just us. There were some people in the street the same way.”

Weiss gathered her strength for a moment, before speaking, her voice small and weak. “The Grimm must've gained strength by taking ours. Given enough time we'd be dead, and it probably would've expanded the area effected. This whole block probably would've died before anyone noticed if Ruby hadn't stopped it.”

“How come you weren't effected?” Blake demanded.

“I dunno,” Ruby said. “I just… woke up. When this whole thing started. Dunno know why.”

Weiss sighed, leaning back into her seat as Blake and Ruby talked. She was too tired to really maintain a conversation, but she hadn't wanted to lapse into silence while Ruby was obviously upset. She smiled slightly, glad for the diversion, as she let herself mentally drift.

She had managed to fall asleep again, only to awaken when the smell of cooking bacon filled the air. They rarely made their own food, with Weiss knowing nothing about how to do so, and Ruby being limited to roasting fresh game over a campfire, but Yang had somehow picked up some real cooking skills, and when she came back to herself it was to the sight of the exhausted blonde hunched over the fireplace, slowly poking at crisping bacon in a pan, bread sitting on the stone nearby to heat.

“You're awake!” Ruby said.

“Mmm,” she hummed. “Did anything happen?”

“Uh… good news or bad news?” Ruby asked, moving to sit beside her on the seat.

Weiss narrowed her eyes. “How bad?”

“Uh… we're all alive, so it could be worse news,” Ruby hedged.

Weiss frowned. “So, very bad news.”

“Kinda,” Ruby agreed with a wince.

Weiss groaned in dismay. “How about good news… then breakfast… then bad news.”

Yang chuckled. “Gotta recharge before the bad?”

“Well, the good news is we're all alive,” Ruby said brightly. “The Grimm's gone, and the longer they've been up the better they've been feeling.”

“Yeah, you really need to put some meat on those bones, Weiss,” Yang taunted. “You're the only one who fell back asleep.”

Weiss glowered at her, not even breaking her expression when the other woman handed her a plate of food. “I also helped Ruby deal with the Grimm, while you two slept right through it.”

“Details,” Yang dismissed.

As annoying as the woman was, she prepared a filling meal. The fresh, hot bread was slathered with honey and fruit preserves, and the bacon was crispy, just the way she liked it. After crunching on a piece she groaned ecstatically. “Alright… you get to live.”

“How kind of you,” Blake drawled, although Weiss noticed she hadn't even looked up from her own breakfast.

Once they were all finished, Weiss leaned back against Ruby, a smile on her face as she finally felt a bit more human. “Okay, so what's the bad news.”

“Um… maybe it's better if you see for yourself.”

“See for myself?”

“Yeah… why don't you check our room.”

It was another typical night at Beacon, with Weiss nursing her red wine while Ruby sipped at her mead. Blake and Yang had gone elsewhere for the evening, probably driven off by Weiss's smoldering temper. Even most of a day after finding out the truth, her lover still wasn't over it.

“I can't believe it was all trash,” Weiss grumbled again.

Ruby chuckled. “Well, you know… easy come, easy go.”

Weiss glared at her, before sighing and slumping against the table. “But there was so much!”

The golden treasures they'd taken from the abandoned tower had turned out to be anything but valuable. With the Grimm cursing it dead, the treasure had turned out to be nothing but corroded scraps, rusty iron, and broken clay and pewter bits. Weiss hadn't been able to determine whether the fake treasure and associated Grimm had been an intentional trap placed by the tower's former owner, or if it had been something put together by the Grimm seeking gullible treasure hunters to prey upon, but either way they had been left with nothing.

“What's really bothering you?” Ruby asked.

“What do you mean?” Weiss asked, her back tensing slightly.

“Weiss, you're the one who taught me what 'easy come easy goes' means,” Ruby pointed out. “Usually you're the first one to shrug that kinda stuff off. So why're you so upset now?”

Weiss was quiet for a long time, before finally sighing. “You know our apartment?”

“Uh huh,” Ruby hummed. “What about it?”

“Before… before we moved in together… before we got together, I didn't have anything beyond what I could carry,” Weiss said. “Just a belt pouch of money, the clothes on my back, and my ancestral sword. Otherwise, I would fight or steal to fill my pouch, and then find someone's bed to sleep in for the night. It's been… years since I've had a room that required a lease. I haven't… I haven't had a home since I left Schnee Manor.”

“What's wrong with that?” Ruby asked.

“Everything,” Weiss sighed. “And nothing. I guess… I was used to a lifestyle once, where I had roots, and books, and fancy candles, and staff cooking me meals, and a warmed bed ready for me at night. All with a steady roof over my head and no risk of losing it all. Well, no risk until I chose to throw it away. Then I had nothing to lose, but that meant I had nothing at all. I was rudderless, alone in crowds, with nothing to depend on, and nothing depending on me.

“But now… I don't want that anymore. I want a life with you. With a home, and a bed, and the security not to need to run when things go wrong. Money… money had no value to me when my family had so much of it, and no value to me when I needed no more than I could take in a day. But now… now I don't want to risk losing this… this life we're building.”

“I had no idea,” Ruby said, taking her hand. “This has been really bothering you, hasn't it?”

“It should bother you, too,” Weiss said. “Vale chews up and spits people out. That was fine when I didn't care what happened to me tomorrow, but I don't want that anymore. I want… I want a tomorrow, not just a today. And a tomorrow requires more than odd jobs and petty crimes.”

“Then we'll find more.”

“It's not that simple,” Weiss said.

Ruby grinned at her. “It's only not simple if you make it not simple. Besides, even if something does go wrong, I know how to live in the forest with nothing at all. We'll figure out how to get by, I promise.”

“Dolt,” Weiss said, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, who's worrying about silly stuff here,” Ruby said. “You know, you should share this stuff with me. We're in this together, you know? You don't have to worry alone.”

“I- huh,” Weiss said, leaning back in her seat. “I suppose you're right.”

“Of course I am,” Ruby said with a grin. “Now, how 'bout I get us another round of drinks, and then we can figure out what we can do next, since I guess we have to pay money to that landlord guy every month.”

“Sure,” Weiss said with a smile. “Together.”

[oikaw-ugh]

HI BABE NUMBER 4 FOR THE CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE PLSSSS

HELLO SOPH! NO WORDS CAN EXPRESS HOW I’M SO HAPPY THAT I GET TO SHARE MY OC IMSUCHANERD-

Full name

Nakajima Fujita  (Breathing form: Breath of Art)

Preferred name/nickname

Fujita (for the lOVE OF GOD, DO NOT CALL HER FUJI SHE HATES IT)

Generally referred to as

The one with the brother complex HAHAHAHAHAH

Appearance.

Speech.

Sex: Female

Height: She’s gonna kill me for this but she’s 5 flat :’)

Weight: Somewhere around 55-75 kilos hehe

Build: She used to be thin but when she became a slayer, she started developing curves.

Hair: Her hair is long, it reaches up to her waist and is jet black in color. Maria (another OC from this universe) once suggested she should cut her hair but she refused because her brother likes it long. HAHAHAHHA

She used to bun it at all time but it becomes a hassle during missions so she buns half of her hair instead, the rest on lose.

Skin: Described as ‘porcelain and smooth’ by Amida (another OC from this universe) and is prone to sunburn so she hates travelling at day which is inevitable lol.

Eyes: Her eyes are crimson red in color. Maris likes to joke that she has ‘bloodshot eyes’. As for shape, they are round, almost similar to a doll.

Mouth: Thin.

Hands: Smail and slim. They used to be very smooth but she started earning callouses the longer she is a slayer.

Feet: Small.

Scars: None.

Other features: None.

Noteable features: Amida, Maria, and Junko (the other 3 OCs) kept on saying she reminded them of Japanese dolls.

Mannerisms.

Accent: None

Verbal Ticks: None

Language: Let’s assume they speak Nihonggo.

Articulation: She loves to use poetic words. By poetic, we mean words that are not familiar to Amida just to piss him off. For some reason, explaining herself is a difficult task for her. She just expects anyone to immediately understand her.

Laughter: She mostly scoffs, especially when she mocks Amida and Maria (lmao she has no guts to mock Junko. I mean, who does?) for doing something stupid. But when she’s genuinely happy, she laughs so loud and it’s very contagious, she’d even snort.

Grump: None

Breathing: Fujita is usually composed but when she finds something new or interesting, you’d hear her gasp like a child and it’s cute.

Health:

Face: She squints her eyes as if she’s reading whenever she tries to think. Also, she always has this scowling face and Amida, Junko, and Maria are convinced that she’s just disgusted with everything. kinda true.

Hands: None.

Legs/Feet: None

Habits: She likes to run her fingers through her hair or to play with the tips of her strands. It’s a coping mechanism.

Posture: Very poised! ‘Lady-like’ the way she was taught to pose.

Walking posture: Very poised as well.

Sitting posture: Very well-mannered (especially in Japan’s way of sitting? Where your knees are folded?)

Personal space: She hates people who stand or sit too close to her...well, except her brother and her husband :))))

Spacial awareness: VERY MUCH AWARE! She’d flinch at almost everything she finds disgusting. A slight brush of your skin would send her yeeting!

Personal.

Diet: Picky-eater. She loves sweets, tho.

Sleep: She sleeps early! Her maids always made sure she slept early so it became a habit.

Excercise: Nope. She hates physicaly activities despite being a demon slayer.

Activity: She does not like to move a lot. She even lets Maria do the chores. She expects everyone to work for her, similar to how the maids work for her all the time. Ik it's weird because she's a slayer, she's supposed to be very active but nah

Cleanliness: SHE HATES GETTING DIRTY. Which is a problem since she slays demons for a living.

Odour: Amida once said she smelled like home :’))) Maria said she smelled exoensive and Junko said she smelled like water.

Medical drugs: None

Narcotics: None

Addictions: None

Illness: None

Injuries: None

Parasites: None

Other:

The Past.

Introvert/Extrovert: I would say an extro. She’s from a wealthy family and is very confident on everything she does. In fact, she approached Amida and Maria first (the reason why they became friends)

Optimist/Pessimist: in between? She doesn’t really care of what happens.

Gender: Female

Sexuality: She knew she was straight. Then she met Amida, a bisexual. And that...kinds of blow her off to this day. 

Romantic: She’s never tried it and she feels like she would never. bUT SIKEEEE she is now married.

Memory: Depends. If it’s about her brother, then yes. It’s sharp. But if it’s about her friends, kind of sharp. But if it’s about things she doesn’t give a fuck, no. Her memory sucks. If it's about her husband, though...she remembers every little thing about him which I find cute.

Planning: No. She goes with the flow most of the time. Maria and Amida does all the planning in their missions (they do missions together).

Pensive: No. But if the actions has been done...she’d overthink of it whether if it was too much or stuff.

Intuition: Kind of...good of making right decisions at the same time no. She’s very spontaneous, I can’t tell.

Goals: TO KILL ALL THE DEMONS.

Insecurities: None. She’s ‘perfect’.

Achievements: She killed the demon who killed her brother. Well, we’d like to think of it that way. She raided the demon den where her brother was assigned to raid and she killed every single one of them successfully.

Anxiety: Back when her brother was still alive, she’s always anxious if his letters during missions wouldn’t come. But know, she's afraid of losing her friends, especially that they separated ways after the defeat of demons.

Overwhelmed: During her brother’s death, she felt everything was too much she actually ran away from her own home. She was also very overwhelmed when a cErTain sOmEonE asked for her hand in marriage

Self-help: Dealing with her own problems, she kinds of let the others do it for her :))) (she used to order Amida around and she’d pay him with her money lmao)

Comforts: Her brother. Unfortunately, he’s gone. But now, she finds comfort from Maria, Junko, and Amida (especially Amida).

Philosophy: OOOOH I haven’t thought of that.

Triggers: Mention of her brother, death from demons, demons, Amida getting hurt (this is rooted to the fact that she kinds of see her brother on Amida or something) and her friends getting hurt.

She also thinks it’s very important for her, Maria, and Junko to marry someone wealthy after they retire which Maria and Junko objects as they had their experiences with men. She'd eventually take this back though as no rich man has given her the happiness and contentment Amida was able to offer.

Parents/Guardians: Her father is old but is very supportive of his children. She’s very close to his brother so when she found out about his sudden death, she did not take it easy. She ran away, swearing that she’d kill the demon who killed him.

Along the way she found Amida, Maria, and Junko. Spontaneous as they can be, the four became demon slayers and they had to return to her home for temporary refuge.

School: No. But she was pampered well by her household.

Adolescence: She actually tried to shape herself into someone her brother would love.

Leaving home: She swore she’d kill the demon who killed her brother, resulting to her suddenly running away. Though she came back months after, wounded, along with Maria, Amida, and Junko as they came from a bloody mission and they needed temporary refuge. Her father was surprised and somehow upset but was more glad that he finally knew what has happened to his daughter.

Further education:

Life events: She ran away from home, went to different villages and she eventually met Amida (I’m not gonna describe too much since this is a huge event for Amida), she eventually met Maria who is a Demon Slayer which enticed her to join as well.

Worst day of their life: When demon slayers went to her household, bringing along with them his brother’s blood and torn uniform.

Lessons: She learned that though her brother would never come back, she can at least avenge him.

Looking back: She never regretted the things she did. She never regretted staining her hands for the sake of her brother.

Relationships.

Interactions.

Family: Redundant but her brother is very important to her but now, she gained new friends she consider as family. As for Amida, she finds him very special. It’s either because he reminded her of her brother or it’s because of how Amida looked like when they first met.

In the future, Fujita would return home after the demon's defeat and she'd have surprise visits from Amida who was looking for "solace". These visits became something she anticipates, almost similar to the feeling when she awaits for her brother's letters. And before she knew it, she grow more fond of Amida each visit. She fell in love.

Friendships: She had lady friends from different household but she never felt the sense of friendship not until she met Maria, Fujita, and Amida.

Friends in need: Fun fact: When she saw Amida for the first time, she was horrified and so, she treated him with good clothing and good food.

Annoyance: Dealing with arguments, expect Fujita to SCREAM a lot. She wants to prove her point. She wants everyone to understand her and she thinks screaming is the best way to extend her thoughts.

Romance: She liked the thought but dismissed it anyways as she cannot imagine herself living the rest of her life with someone who is not her brother. She does see herself marrying someone wealthy once she retires.

SIKE! SHE MARRIED AMIDA.

Marital problems: None so far.

Adversaries: -

Enemies: DEMONS. And anyone who hurts her friends and brother.

Strangers: She does not hold back when she’s with strangers so people who do not know her think she’s actually very arrogant (which she is) and bitchy. It’s just her personality, though.

Fun stuff: SHE LOVES PAINTING, HENCE HER BREATHING FORM (BREATH OF ART). She likes Haiku and paintings!

Dating: None because she's married.

Best friend: Amida, Maria, and Junko

Love: She considers her brother her love of her life. Whether it is romantically or not, I have no clue. This was her thinking not until she fell in love with Amida.

Respect: She respects no one but her friends and her brother. Especially Maria, she respects her so much.

I’m not gonna include Life ‘cause most of it don’t apply to them hehehehe

Mingling: She does not go along with others well due to her personality.

Comfort levels: She does not feel anxious or bothered when talking to people. It should be the other way around. How dare they bother her-

Physical: No she doeesn’t like affectionate actions.

Group: She’s fine with groups. She doesn’t feel anxious. It should be the other way around.

Jealous: She’s jealous of those who still have their brother on their side.

Temper: SHORT. She likes it when she annoys others but annoy her once, she won’t hesitate using her breathing form on you.

Empathy: She surprisingly empathize to those who lost their loved ones from demons. 

Affectionate: She shows her affectionate like a tsundere would do. She’d be subtle and like, defensive when caught in the act HAHAHAH

Distaste: I know that she use to emphasize how she is disgusted with Amida but it’s her Tsundere self kicking in. When she really dislikes someone, she’d ignore them completely.

Responsibility: The only responsibility she knows is keeping herself alive and keeping her friends safe. That’s all.

Self-esteem: HIGH. VERY CONFIDENT. You can say she is the spokesperson of the group.

Honesty: She’s very honest with her thoughts. But if you want her to speak of something personal, now that’s difficult. But surprisingly, she opens to Amida very easily.

Leader or follower: Follower. She admires Maria and thinks Maria knows what’s best especially on missions.

Praise: She loves praises! She likes it when people point out her well-done hair, her beautiful clothes, her beautiful breathing form. But let Amida compliment Fujita and you’d see her blushing as she tries to diss him >=}}}

Criticism: She will only accept them if they came from Maria or her brother.

Insults: She takes it hard! She’d think of that all the time and she’d try to prove it to you that you’re wrong. She’s basically a royalty! How dare you insult her?

Embarrassment: She takes compliments well....if they aren’t from Amida or his brother.

Flirting: This is a lowkey Tsundere, Ma’am. We know no flirting!

Attention span: Very short lived if she does not take interest in it. But let Maria speak and she’d be all ears.

---

I know no one asked but I have 4 OCs from Demon Slayer universe and I'd love to create this with them but I'm confused on which OC do I make one first.

So pick a number between 1 and 4 :) (Number 4 is out-)

[eldritchsurveys]

1090.

Can you say you are fully happy right now? >> Some surveys have such standard and generic questions that I can’t rightly tell if I’ve already taken it. This is one of those, and because it’s so long I’m hoping to god I don’t get to the middle of it and be like “oh. I did this literally last week” lmao. Fingers crossed. I don’t know what “fully happy” means. I took my walk like I promised myself, and I made an offering and am now drinking it (it’s delicious, a dessert stout called Big Luscious), so I’m on track for how I wanted my day to go. And I’m not triggered or having any kind of episode, so I’m okay there. Which means I am currently stable, which is a great place to be (considering the alternatives).

Do you think someone is thinking about you right now? >> It’s possible, I guess.

Is there someone who stopped talking to you for no reason? >> I mean, probably, at some point. Ghosting is a common thing these days, for some reason.

Did you ever get called horrible names like (whore, skank, bitch)? >> Sure.

Where did you sleep last night? >> In my bed.

Ever slow danced with anyone? >> Yes, outworld and Inworld. Inworld is obviously the best, though. ~

Ever cried in public? >> Yes. Privacy and solitude was a rarity and a luxury for most of my life, so I had no real choice.

Ever feel safe in someone’s arms? >> Inworld, yes. I don’t know what that’s like outworld.

What would you do if you were pregnant? >> Die.

Are you afraid of letting anyone in? >> So, I have disordered attachment, am a product of CEN and CSA, and have resultant CPTSD. You do the math. (*makes some kind of joke about how it’s probably gonna be algebra because of all the acronyms--*)

Do you like cuddling? >> I love it Inworld. It basically gets me through everything. I would basically remain glued to Can Calah at all times if I could (and on some bad days, I do). Outworld is a completely different story because of the things mentioned just above.

Ever cry in school? >> I’m sure I have.

Who is the last person to send you a message on facebook? >> Probably Casey, like a month and a half ago.

Do you look decent when you wake up? >> Why am I paying attention to how I look when I wake up? I’m in bed. Who the fuck am I performing for? -___-’

Have you ever been given roses? >> No.

Had a long distance relationship? >> Yes.

Does it bother you when people never answer their cell phones? >> Why would that bother me? I am also one of those people. Oh, I guess you mean, like... I call a person, they never answer... hah, as if I would ever call a person. This is totally outside my experience.

Do you care what happens in politics/your government? >> I mean... here’s the thing. I care in the sense that I’m not totally disconnected from the effects of politics on people like me. But the realm of politics, specifically, is so alien to me that I have no idea what to do about it except halfheartedly vote and hope for the best? I don’t know how much more I’m supposed to care. I hate the political system, period, I want nothing to do with it. People assume that anyone that feels that way must be privileged and unaffected by politics, but I guess their shortsightedness about how different people can experience and feel about things is not my problem.

Ever been called babe/baby? >> Sparrow says “babe”.

Have you ever witnessed someone else engaging in a sexual act (not necessarily sex)? >> Yes.

Where did you get drunk last? >> I don’t remember. I don’t get drunk anymore, I just like to drink a beverage and enjoy the taste and slight buzz. Like right now, it’ll probably take me the next hour or two to finish this stout, but that’s the way I like to drink. Slowly and comfortably.

What’s your relationship with the last person you texted? >> I’m married to her.

If someone went through your pictures, would they find a dirty one? >> Nope. The only time I ever took nudes was just for the fun of it, not to be sexual or anything. Just enjoying having a human body (god, I wish that were me now...). But that was a long time ago and none of those photos are available anywhere anymore.

Do you want to see anyone right now? >> No.

Have you ever fell asleep in someone’s arms? >> Inworld, yes. Outworld, no.

How long does it take for you to fall asleep at night? >> About a half-hour after laying down, usually. Some nights a little longer, but then I just catch up on my reading.

How many pillows are on your bed >> Two.

When’s the last time you cried? >> Yesterday.

Is it cute when a guy buys you flowers? >> I mean, I’d require more context than that. If I’m friends with a guy and he’s like “I saw these flowers and thought of you!” that’d be adorable. I do love flowers, thanks for thinking of me! Also, I’ll probably use them as an offering, so double win. If some random guy sent me flowers, I’d be a bit disturbed and put-off.

Will things change in the next month? >> I mean, yes. That’s how it works.

How did you do on the last test you took? >> ---

Have you ever wanted to tell someone something but didn’t? >> I mean, yeah. Are you afraid to grow up? >> ---

Are you busy tomorrow? >> Probably not, unless something really unpredictable and abnormal happens. I might be plenty busy playing FFXIV, though, considering I can’t today because it’s patch day.

How long have you had the shirt you’re wearing? >> It’s an undershirt, idk how long I’ve had it.

Do you give out second chances way too easily? >> Er, I assume not? I’m not usually in this kind of situation.

Has anyone told you that you’re amazing? >> Yes.

How many black shirts do you own? >> Like 15. For reference, I own like 20 shirts total.

Do you think you will be in a relationship three months from now? >> I don’t see why I wouldn’t be. A lot of weird and sudden shit would have to happen to change that.

How come you’re not going out with the person you like? >> ---

When you feel cold does eating warm food help you feel warm? >> I don’t know. I do feel warmer after eating, just in general, probably because of the blood moving around to start digestion.

Do you want to diet? >> No. No I fucking do not. Don’t even suggest that to me.

Are you unsure about your feelings for someone? >> I’m not unsure about my feelings for anyone. I know how I feel about people. It’s other people whose feelings are a complete mystery to me.

Who did you last hang out with? >> Sparrow, because we live together.

Would you take $40,000 or a brand new car? >> I mean, obviously the money, since I can’t drive and don’t want to...

What song are you currently listening to? >> None.

Are you happy with your relationship? >> It’s fine.

Who was the last person to smoke something other than a cigarette or weed in front of you? >> Other than a cigarette or weed?? So, like... crack???? I really couldn’t say. It’d be years ago.

Does anything on your body hurt? >> Not right now.

If the last person you kissed were calling you right now, would you answer? >> I would, because if she’s calling me, then it must be a real ass emergency. Or probably like an EMT using her phone to find an emergency contact. So yeah, I’d answer. One of the very rare times I’d answer my phone.

In the run of a week, how many times do you straighten your hair? >> ---

Are you mad at someone right now? >> Nope.

Last thing someone gave you? >> I don’t remember.

Who woke you up this morning? >> Just me, naturally.

Who is your favorite family member on your mom’s side? >> ---

What do you do in your spare time? >> All my time is "spare” time, by other people’s standards, so, uh...

Who was the last person you were under a blanket with? >> Just Can Calah. :B

Where is the last person you kissed? >> Inworld.

What was the last thing you ate? >> Veggie burger and chips, breakfast. I’ll probably grab some lunch and queue up a movie after this.

Which of your friends is the most likely to get pregnant right now? >> ---

Do you remember the meanest thing the last person you kissed ever said to you? >> I don’t think she’s said anything particularly vicious to me. Just... kind of thoughtless things, I guess, earlier on.

What does your last outgoing text say? >> It was a link to a TikTok of a cute dog.

Have you ever been called prince/ princess? >> No.

Waiting for something? >> No. Well, the Dinnerly box, which is gonna get here eventually and which I’ll have to go downstairs to retrieve and then unpack.

Have you kissed anyone when you’re single? >> Yes.

What are you doing this weekend? >> I imagine the same things we do every other weekend in these COVID times.

Could you go the rest of your life without smoking a cigarette? >> I imagine so.

Have you ever kissed someone who was in a relationship? >> Yeah. Where is your biological father right now? >> ---

Where is the biggest scar on your body? >> Probably the one on my face. How late did you stay up last night? >> Not very. I think I went to sleep shortly after 11. Have you had your birthday this year yet? >> Yeah, in May. You had to kiss the last person you texted, would you? >> I mean, I have. What would you call your body type? >> I don’t want to call it anything. Are you a morning person? >> Yes. Have you ever been to Target? >> Yes, many times. Do you like iced coffee? >> It’s okay. When is the next time you’ll be at work? >> --- Has anyone ever hacked your accounts before? >> Not that I can recall. Could you ever be friends with someone that broke your heart? >> Probably not. I take that kind of shit super fucking hard. Ever made a prank phone call? >> No. Does your mom vacuum early in the morning, when you’re sleeping? >> --- Have you ever been in a car accident? >> No.

Have you ever been in a fist fight with someone? >> Yes.

Have you ever seriously hurt anyone by mistake? >> Physically? I assume not. Have you ever had stitches? >> Yes. Name a time when you had to be strong. >> Like... all the time? I don’t really know how to answer this. Have you ever dealt with a divorce or parents fighting or any kind of abuse at home? >> The first two, no, because my parents were not together. The third, yes. Have you ever lost someone close to death? if so, how many? >> Once. Have you ever had any volunteer jobs? >> No. Have you gone through a lot emotionally growing up? >> Obviously. Has a boy/girl ever cheated on their boyfriend/girlfriend for you? >> I really would not want anyone to do that. Anyone that can disrespect the rules of their current relationship so flagrantly is going to disrespect me next. Also, that’s a messed up thing to do to the third party, too. Do you want to see someone this very minute? >> Not especially. Unless it’s D. :)

Are you happy with the way things are going? >> Some things, sure. Are you a forgiving person? >> Sometimes, I guess. It’s not what I’d call a character trait of mine, though. Do you have to check in with your parents before you go someplace? >> --- Do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to? >> --- Describe how you feel about your life in the past month using one word: >> I cannot do that. Would you like to go back and change any part of your life? >> I mean, I don’t know. I am who I am, and that’s because of what I’ve experienced. I don’t know who I’d be otherwise, and I do like myself and I want to continue being myself, so... I have to take the bitter with the... less bitter. When will your next kiss be? >> I don’t know, whenever I want it to be. Last person you saw other than your family? >> --- Will tomorrow be better than today? >> I mean, today was pretty okay, so if tomorrow’s even better than today, boy howdy. Are you feeling guilty about anything right now? >> No. What’s going through your mind right now? >> I’m just taking this survey, dude. That’s all I’m thinking about. When’s the last time you had fast food? >> Day before Thanksgiving. Do you believe that there’s good in everybody? >> I mean, I guess, if we have to put it that way. I just think that people are largely alike, and that if I can see the “shadow self” in me and everyone that is capable of many of the evils of the world, then I don’t see why I can’t also see the “higher self” in me and everyone that is capable of the beautiful things that people do for and with each other. These divisions always make me twitch a little because I think making it a dichotomy misses the real point a bit, but I haven’t run into better words for this yet so I’m doing my best with what I’ve got. Is it okay if you kiss people when you’re single? >> ... When was the last time you saw someone attractive? >> I mean, I can see Can Calah or King Crimson whenever I want. :B What was the first thing you did when you woke up? >> Probably reached for my phone to see what time it was. Think back eight months ago, were you single? >> No. What do you carry with you at all times? >> Myself :) Are you okay with the life you live? >> I’m okay with a lot of it. Way more okay with the lives I’ve had to lead before.

Do you have a Tattoo? >> Yes. What other piercings would you get other than the ones you already have? >> I’m not sure. I haven’t really thought about it because I’ve been so focused on tattoos in recent times. I’d just rather have ink. Did your last kiss take place on a bed? >> Probably. Have you ever been to Disney World? >> No. If so, how many times have you been? >> --- Does grammar and capitalization mean anything to you? >> Meh. Like, here’s the thing -- even if I don’t capitalise proper nouns or use dialect grammar as opposed to “proper” (don’t get me started on the connotations of that term) grammar, I can still be understood. And that’s the whole fucking point. I use the social standard for grammar and capitalisation when it’s necessary, and for some reason I’ve been taking surveys with the social standard of English for so long that it’s a habit by now, but I’m not obsessed with it. I love being able to code-switch and I love using vernacular and I love “Internet dialect/grammar” and all of that. Language in all its forms, unrestrained, is just so. fucking. cool. Are you good at wrapping gifts for others? >> Sure, I like the orderly origami-like process of wrapping. Do you have a dirty clothes hamper in your room? >> No, it’s in Sparrow’s (bigger) room. Do you enjoy big holiday dinners? >> I enjoy big dinners and small dinners. I assume by “big” you mean “lots of food”, not... “big” as in “lots of people”, because that I do not enjoy. Is your vision good? >> Yes. Is your present hair color, natural? >> Yes. What was the last thing you ordered online? >> A crystal. Fuck, that reminds me, I gotta poke around on Etsy for some stocking stuffer type gifts.   Have you ever worn color contacts? >> Yes, quite often back in the day. If you have a significant other, how long have you been together? >> Almost nine years or something, idk. I’m bad at time math. Where are your parents as of now? >> --- Do you follow a certain religion? >> No. Do you have any family members who live out of town? >> --- Do you consider yourself short? >> Not really. What room are you in? >> Mine. Do you listen to any country music? >> Sure. Do you ever watch Lifetime? >> No. I don’t have cable, but I wouldn’t watch Lifetime even if I did. Would ever consider having children in the future? >> Probably not. Have you ever lived on a farm? >> No. Do both of your parents have jobs? >> --- If you had the chance to move to a completely different state, would you? >> Yes. What is something you’ve always wanted a boy to do for you? >> Clean my house. IDK, lol. What do you wish you had more knowledge about? >> Oh, stuff. What food are you craving right now? >> I’m not craving anything, even though it’s lunchtime. I have no idea what I want to eat. ...Hmm, egg, rice, and roasted veggies sounds really good but idk if I want to make eggs right now... How old were you when you stopped believing in Santa? >> I never was told about him. I kind of vaguely knew he existed from just... cultural saturation, or whatever, but yeah. How many times have you kissed the last person you kissed? >> A lot. Do you have a friend you can tell stuff to and you’re sure they won’t tell? >> --- Would you ever get someone’s name tattooed on you? >> You know, every time I see this question I totally fucking forget that I already have a person’s name tattooed on me. My X-Files tattoo that matches with Sparrow’s says “scully, it’s me”. Scully is a name lmaoooo So, yeah, I guess the answer is yes.

Does your family have family picnics? >> --- If your doctor said you were pregnant, what would you say? >> “That’s not a funny joke, so please stop”, I mean, what else would I say? That’s literally impossible so the doctor must be trying to pull a funny. A really fucking bad one, too.

[freudensteins-monster]

I Need a Hero! 

Following on from Ooh! Barracuda!

Despite what Darcy had promised, their third date had ended with them still fully clothed, kissing goodbye on the street outside the restaurant they were supposed to be dining at, all because some asshat let mutated wannabe velociraptors escape from a lab in Nova Scotia.

And though they both claimed to want a do-over, culminating in the stereotypical post-third date activities, that first interrupted date was the start of a holding pattern.

They made reservations at another nice restaurant and Bucky walked Darcy to her room at the tower. They made out against the door – the inside of the door, as the hallway had hears, and high resolution cameras – but then Bucky cut it short claiming he had an early training session at the upstate facility in the morning.

Okay, thought Darcy. Except she learnt later on that he had volunteered for it the morning of their date.

The following weekend JARVIS found them an old school dance hall and the pair got dressed up in their 1940’s finest and went out dancing. Bucky walked her to her door again, and again cut their goodbye kiss short claiming tiredness because of the training upstate, and the travel, and the dancing.

Fine. Except Steve had mentioned two days later that Bucky had been putting extra sessions in at the tower gym – including the night of their dance hall date.

Darcy invited him around for a home cooked meal and suggested they watch something from Bucky’s “must see movies of the last 100 years” list. She instigated a little Netflix and Chill action, only for Bucky to put the brakes on claiming he wanted to see how the movie ended.

Really? It’s not like they couldn’t have paused the damn thing, Darcy would grumble to Jane later.

For their next date she pulled out the big guns: a slinky, sleeveless, little black dress that showed even more skin than the blue-grey number that had prompted Bucky to ask her out. When she opened the door Bucky’s knees almost buckled at the sight of her (or the girls) and Darcy thought she was on to a winner. She was flirty and affectionate on the way down to the lobby, and Bucky seemed to be reciprocating, but of course, their luck being what it was, the second he opened the car door for her his phone rang with an emergency Assemble.

Fair enough. He couldn’t fake an Assemble, but he didn’t have to look so damn relieved about it.

The mission took three days and when Bucky returned Darcy was caught in the middle of Jane’s latest breakthrough, so it ended up being a full week after their last failed date before they could reschedule. This also gave Darcy plenty of time to plan a course of action to address the elephant in the room, which basically boiled down to “talk about it like mature adults in an adult relationship”.

“This suuuucks,” Darcy groaned to her empty apartment as she waited for Bucky to knock on her door.  Thankfully she didn’t have to wait too long; a minute later and she would have chickened out.

“Hey doll,” he greeted her with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. “I missed you like crazy this week.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been a crazy week,” she joked lamely, as Bucky made himself comfortable on her couch.

“Did you have anything in particular in mind tonight? I was thinking we could try that Caribbean ramen place Tony was going on about and maybe start one of those Star Wars trilogies everyone seems to love. Sam wants to watch them at the next team movie night, but you know he and Clint will just talk over them and it’ll just ruin my first viewing.”

“Speaking of firsts,” Darcy interjected, grasping at any excuse to get the crappy portion of their evening over with. “Do you not want to have sex with me?” Bucky balked and couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes. Darcy cursed herself for having the subtlety of Thor’s hammer, but sat as close to him as she dared and powered on. “Considering how you were looking at me the day you asked me out, I’m going to go out on a limb and say you find me attractive, but you keep pulling away from me when things get hot and heavy, and I know you’ve been making up excuses so you can cut out early. So… what is it? Why are you embarrassed to tell me no? Is it a religious thing – do you not want to have sex before marriage? A medical thing? Do you not want to have sex at all, or just not right now? Whatever it is, I just need you talk to me about it and tell me where you’re head’s at so I can adjust my expectations accordingly, okay? Because right now I feel like an asshole for trying to move us in a direction that you’re clearly not comfortable with.”

It took Bucky a minute to reply, his mouth opening and closing as he tried and failed to find the right words, but eventually he turned those beautiful stormy eyes of his in her direction and took one of her hands in his.

“First off, of course I find you attractive. When it comes to brains and beauty I think you leave Hedy Lamarr in the dust,” he assured her with a smirk. “And don’t go twistin’ yourself up thinkin’ I only want you when you’re wearing one of those maneater ensembles of yours. Done up and dressed down, soft and sexy; I like the whole package, sweetheart.” Darcy couldn’t help but blush. “And I do want to have sex with you…”

“But…”

Bucky sighed and squeezed her hand just a little bit tighter. “But… Nobody but doctors have seen me without my shirt on since I came back to myself, and I can’t stop worrying about what you’ll think.”

“About?”

“All this,” he replied with vague gesture.

“Your arm?”

“You gotta remember that I got the knock off version of the serum; I ain’t like Steve,” he added, anxiously rubbing his shoulder. “I might heal fast but my scars don’t fade like his do. At least, the ones Hydra gave me didn’t. It’s not pretty, and I just don’t want to see you pretending like they don’t upset you.”

“Of course they upset me, Bucky. But only because I wanna tase every Hydra goon in the balls for what they did to you. Seeing your scars isn’t going to make me want you less. Solid muscle and solid metal, cocky and self-conscious; I like the whole package, Sergeant Barnes,” she teased.

“Oh, yeah?” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Ugh, dude. Don’t make me fall on my sword.”

“Huh?”

“JARVIS, can you play my favourite fanvid?” she asked the ceiling with a sigh.

 “Of course, Miss Lewis.”

“What are we watching?”

“Just… watch,” Darcy cringed as she shushed him. “And try not to hate me or, like, run screaming from the room in search of a restraining order.”

 🎶 Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the gods 🎶

Bucky knew this song. He heard it every now and then when he was passing by Jane’s lab on the way to or from Tony’s, but it would always cut out when he got close. He’d asked Darcy about it once and she claimed it was her ringtone. Now that he thought back on it she had definitely been lying but he’d been too distracted by her bashful smile to notice it. He turned his attention to the television fixed to Darcy’s living room wall and as the song continued dozens of hastily edited together video clips were thrown up on the screen. Video clips of him. There were paparazzo footage of him and some of the team leaving a bar in DC after they’d gone out for drinks on Sam’s birthday, some video of him lifting weights in the gym for that Avengers Tower behind-the-scenes thing that Pepper had organized, though it was slightly pixelated as the editor tried to zoom in on his arms. There was even news footage from his missions with the Avengers, and a few of his missions against them.

“Is that… is that the Winter Soldier in Germany?”

“Um… yes?” Darcy winced.

“People like that – you like that?” he asked incredulously.

“I know it’s awful of me, and you have every right to hate me for making light of something that is obviously so awful, but seriously dude, you were built like a friggin tank! I don’t know what you were eating when you were hiding out in Romania, but damn!”

After a few more minutes of crippling awkwardness Darcy finally asked JARVIS to cut the feed.

“So…

“So… I hear this song playing in your lab all the time. Just how often have you watched this thing?”

“I plead the fifth,” Darcy blushed.

“JARVIS, how many times has Darcy watched this video?”

“Don’t answer that!”

 “This is Miss Lewis’s 57th viewing of this particular Youtube video.”

Bucky looked rather pleased with himself. “Fifty-seven…”

“Okay, listen, I may have left it playing on loop one afternoon while I cleaned my apartment. I have not sat here and watched it fifty-seven times.”

“I can remember at least four separate instances where I’ve walked past your lab and interrupted this song.”

“So? That’s just four times.”

 “Miss Lewis also asks me to loop her into gym’s security footage whenever you and one of your teammates are sparring.”

“JARVIS? What the hell?” Darcy screeched as Bucky doubled over with laughter.

 “I apologise, Miss Lewis. I just thought Sergeant Barnes would appreciate having all the evidence at his disposal.”

“Go away, JARVIS.” Darcy sighed and tried not to combust from blushing as Bucky chuckled at her embarrassment. “Okay, fine. As you can see from Exhibits A through to like friggin J: I find you stupidly attractive. So, you don’t have to worry about me being upset about your scars from an aesthetic point of view, because if it’s not painfully obviously, I want to see you naked. Real bad.”

Then it was Bucky’s turn to blush. “Can I kiss you, doll?”

“Please,” she begged with relieved smile. “Anything to stop me from embarrassing myself further.”

They started tentatively at first, but soon things started moving in a horizontal direction, with hands toying at the hems of shirts and brushing over zippers, and Bucky pulled back. Darcy did her damndest not to let her disappointment show and waited patiently for Bucky to tell her how he was feeling.

“Do you think we could, uh, relocate?” he asked, surprising her as he tilted his head towards her bedroom door. “I don’t know if I’ll want to… I mean, we can try…” he stammered.

“Whatever you’re okay with. Whatever you want,” Darcy promised.

Bucky swooped in for another kiss before lifting Darcy up off the couch in one smooth movement, smiling like an idiot as she giggled in his arms.

“JARVIS, play us out.”

🎶 Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat / It's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet / I need a hero! 🎶