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versadies · 2 months

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EPILOGUE || FOREVERMORE

SYNOPSIS (of chapter). in which it's been three months since your trip to mondstadt.

SYNOPSIS (of series). breaking up with your first love was heartbreaking, but not as heartbreaking as getting invited to his wedding after years of not seeing him. that is, until things seem to be easier when you encounter a certain guest, who could end up becoming more than just a blooming friend to you (or not).

CHARACTERS. diluc ragnvindr, kamisato ayato, and thoma (w/ gn!reader)

CONTENT. fluff/slight-angst, grammar errors (?), cheesy scenes, second-hand embarrassment (?), possible errors in general.

WORD COUNT. 3.5k words

LINKS. EVERMORE MASTERLIST \ MAIN MASTERLIST \ EVERMORE SURVEY

POST-SCRIPT. the end is finally here!! hopefully the ending is satisfying and fulfilling, i've done all i can to make sure it brings the entire series together and give reader the happiness they deserve. if you wish to know fun facts about the series, stay until the end!!

3 MONTHS LATER AFTER THE WEDDING.

DECEMBER 11, 2022

It’s been a while since you’ve last visited Mondstadt.

You find yourself sitting on a bar stool with your drink in hand, wearing a formal outfit suited for an occasion that can happen to someone for once-in-a-lifetime: a wedding.

True to both you and Diluc’s words, you kept in touch with one another as you two remained friends after your departure from Mondstadt. Though you’re both busy from your work schedules, the two of you make the most of your conversations through sending pictures of food, places, and even your friends – your particular favorite being a picture of his pet bird, Vanessa – in your messages.

It’s safe to say things are well, and you’re more than happy with the couple’s wedding despite your heartbreak before.

You mindlessly look around the reception venue with a smile on your face, paying no mind to the conversations between loud guests who are either talking about 1) the newly wedded couple, or 2) the recent buzz of the continent regarding a certain corrupted CEO.

Two months after the wedding of Ayato and Chisato, Shinsuke was suddenly arrested thanks to the newly-wedded couple, who exposed him with numerous charges that shocked the entire public and media.

“Did you hear? Hiiragi Shinsuke has been arrested for his crimes!”

“I know! It’s shocking to hear that it took him this long to be behind bars, and to think that it’s all thanks to his daughter and her husband...”

“Didn’t they work with that young detective that’s been the buzz of Inazuma’s police force? What’s that detective’s name again?”

“I believe it’s Shikanoin. Apparently he’s been investigating Hiiragi for a long time now!”

You muted out people’s chattering about Shinsuke, taking a sip of your drink. You’re honestly just glad that he’s finally behind bars now, and you won’t have to worry about him for a long, long tim–

“( Name )! How are you?” You flinch when you hear a particular voice that you haven’t heard for a few months now. When you turn around, you spot Venti coming towards you happily with a skip of his steps.

“Venti!” You greeted him happily, putting your glass down before standing up to come towards him, spreading your arms for a friendly hug. “I’ve been well, thank you. How about you? It’s been a while!”

Venti giggles, wrapping his arms around you for a warm friendly hug. “I’m doing well, especially with free drinks and free food around!” He cheers. His flushed cheeks and drowsy look is enough for you to know that he’s as drunk as can be. Classic Venti…

“I can tell.” You respond with a laugh, before helping him sit on one of the bar stools that’s next to yours on the left. “You should take a break from all that drinking, your hangover will be the death of you tomorrow.”

“You’re right.. I should be ready for later..!” Venti hiccups. “How’s Zhongli, by the way? Did he go with you as your plus one again?”

You shake your head in response. “He’s okay, but no, he’s not with me for this trip.” You replied. “I didn’t bring anyone with me since it wasn’t mentioned in the wedding card.”

“Well then, I guess you’re stuck with me!” He giggles, before ordering the bartender another glass once again, much to both your dismay and the bartender’s.

As Venti indulges himself with the free drinks while sharing interesting things about Mondstadt, you couldn’t help but glance at the direction of where Diluc and Jean are, who are both chatting quietly to one another as they eat their meals at their table.

It didn’t take long before Diluc felt your stare, and noticed your presence.

You couldn’t help but smile at him with a wave, to which he responds with an acknowledged nod, slightly smiling towards you before his attention is taken by another guest who came to congratulate the newly-wedded couple.

Your attention is eventually taken as well by another person, who suddenly seated himself right next to you on your right.

“Thoma!” You gasp in surprise, not expecting to see the blonde-haired man.

Thoma flashes you a smile as he chuckles. “Hello to you too as well, ( Name ). Guess you didn’t expect me to be here, huh?”

“Of course not, you gave me a heart attack! I didn’t know you were invited!” You exclaim with a smile. You couldn’t help but take note of how neat he looks, wearing a tuxedo with his hair fixed instead of his usual messy hairdo that you’ve grown used to.

“I didn’t think I’d be invited either until Ayato persuaded me to come to the wedding on his behalf. I’m sure you know how busy Inazuma has been since the… arrest.” He explains, scratching the back of his head with a cheeky grin.

You nod in understanding, your smile becoming a little strained at the mention of the arrest of Shinsuke. “I’m very aware. Almost everyone’s talking about it here, surprisingly.”

The blonde man takes note of your strained smile, and he decides to quickly change topics in a jiffy. “How’s your trip here? Did you bring anyone with you?” He asks curiously.

You lean on the bar counter, though your drink (as well as Venti, who’s still busy with his drinks) is left forgotten. “My trip’s been amazing. I didn’t bring anyone with me though. How about you?”

Thoma shrugs. “I didn’t bring anyone either. Though if I could, I would’ve brought Taroumaru.”

“Aw, I miss Taroumaru!” You cooed. You immediately thought about Inazuma once again, becoming more homesick than you thought you’d be. “How’s the little guy? I heard he’s been the talk of the town. He’s getting really famous on the Internet, isn’t he?”

Thoma chuckles in response, his cheeks turning slightly red. “Yeah.. I honestly didn’t think he’d get famous. There was an idol who came to visit the café and took a picture of him, which was how he got everyone’s love.”

You nodded slowly, still smiling. “So I suppose business is booming then? I’m sure a lot of people must be wanting to meet Taroumaru.”

“Oh if only you see how busy it’s been. If it weren’t for the staff my mom and I hired, I wouldn’t be able to come to the wedding in the first place!” He comments.

As you continue to listen to Thoma talking about people in Inazuma, you couldn’t help but miss Inazuma even more. You honestly couldn’t wait to come back.

“How about you? How’s Liyue been lately after your trip?” Your friend suddenly asks, causing you to wake up from your thoughts.

You cleared your throat. “Oh, same as always. Though,” You straighten your posture, clearing your throat, “I’ve thought about coming back to Inazuma after what happened.”

Thoma was taken back by surprise from your words, his eyes brightened. “R-Really?”

You hummed, your smile growing from his excitement. “Really.”

The man before you didn’t know what to say, stunned from such good news. “This..." He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, obviously ecstatic from the news as his eyes brightens instantly. "This is amazing news! You have to let me know when your flight is then. I can pick you up from the airport and we can go wherever you want and–”

“Woah, woah, slow down!” You couldn’t help but laugh as well, finding his excitement infectious and amusing. “I haven’t even booked anything yet, let alone ask for a transfer in my job.”

“O-Oh!” His cheeks turn red instantly in embarrassment. “R-Right.. My bad, I-I was getting too excited.” He stammers, clearing his throat as he fixes his suit tie. “When do you think you’ll come back?”

You shrug in response. “I’m thinking of.. Maybe after New Year’s Day. It’ll take a while since well.. It’s hard to move to another country, you know?”

He nodded quickly. “Ah yes, of course. I totally understand! You should take your time.” He says in agreement. “Just… Let me know when you’re coming back. I missed you, you know?”

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warming up from his words. Thoma was never the type to confess something so affectionate, but perhaps the drinks are getting the best of both of you…

The blonde man was quick to realize what he said though, as he instantly stiffens and starts stumbling on his words. “I-I mean, I-I’m not the only one who misses you– since everyone misses you, i-including me..!”

“Y-Yeah, I get it. E-Especially since it’s been a long time since I’ve left Inazuma.” You stumbled as well, your cheeks warming even more from the awkward situation that the both of you brought yourself into. “I-If anything, I missed you guys too..!”

Yeah, the drinks are definitely getting the best of both of you.

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh once again from the embarrassment, causing the tense and awkward atmosphere to dissipate.

“Well that was awkward.” He commented, smiling from ear-to-ear.

“No doubt.” You responded, still laughing as you held your stomach.

As the both of you try to catch your breaths after laughing, Thoma decides to get himself a drink as well as another one for you. “Let’s drink to celebrate your upcoming return then. On me, of course.”

You snorted. “Thoma, the drinks are free. We’re in a wedding, remember?”

He blushes once again. “A-Ah.. Right.”

–

As you walk out of the elevator, you head towards your hotel room with Thoma in tow.

Long after the wedding finally ended, you decided to take your leave and hit the bed to sleep for the night, wanting nothing more than to lie down on the comfortable sheets of the bed as you snore away.

To your surprise, Thoma decides to make sure you come back to your room in one piece and escort you back to your room given that the both of you are a little intoxicated.

“You know, you don’t have to come with me. I can go back to the room on my own.” You said reassuringly, noticing how close your hotel room is getting.

“We’re here anyway, so you’re stuck with me now.” He comments, insisting even more as he walks by your side. “Besides, I’m actually staying in the same hotel as you. Though, I’m three floors above.”

You relax instantly from his words, no longer finding the energy to say otherwise. “Oh, that’s good then.” You stumble around and try to find your keycard, pulling it out from your pocket as the two of you arrive to your room.

“Thanks again, Thoma. I’m glad you had kept me company at the wedding– and for helping me taking care of Venti.” You chuckled, letting your door scan your keycard.

He smiles, nodding in acknowledgement. “Of course. It’s the least I can do since you’ve given me a good time at the wedding.”

You smiled in response, and turned around to enter your room that's now opened, but before you could enter, he stopped you for a moment.

“Wait.”

“Hm?” You turn to look at him in confusion and in curiosity. “Is something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “N-No, of course not. It’s just…”

The two of you fell awkwardly silent.

“...I won’t be here tomorrow, so you won’t see me until you return to Inazuma.” He confesses. “So… If you ever decide on whether you’d visit, move in, or whatever, I’m one call away. Just let me know when you come and visit.” So I can be the first to greet you.

You smiled cheekily. “So you really did miss me, huh?”

He blushes once again. “Can you blame me..?” There’s no one I love but you.

You then pat his shoulder. “...I’ll call you as soon as I get the date. Just promise me you’ll be by the airport with some cardboard that has my name.” You teased.

He nodded eagerly. “I’ll make sure it’ll have ‘Welcome back from the Asylum’ on it.” He says, teasing you back.

“Oh I’d like to see you try!” You laugh, lightly slapping his shoulder as he grins.

“...See you next time, ( Name ).”

“See you next time, Thoma.”

You took a few steps to your room and finally closed the door, the last face you saw was Thoma’s flushed face.

As soon as he’s alone in the quiet hallways of the hotel floor, he lets out a sigh.

This time.. This time I’ll shoot my shot.

“What are you thinking about, Thoma?”

The blonde-haired man blinks a few times as he finds himself back in the familiar surroundings of Komore Cafe.

“Ah, sorry.. I-I was just thinking about something.” Thoma says with a cheeky grin, looking at your direction as you sit by the stools that’s by the counter. “How long have you been watching me?” He asks.

You smiled cheekily. “Long enough for me to be reminded of how handsome you look.” You responded teasingly with a chuckle.

“Oh really? Am I really that dashing?” He asks, jokingly posing like a model as it causes you to laugh.

“Very much, but not as much as my guy Taroumaru here.” You pet the Shiba Inu, who makes a “woof!” noise as he happily encourages your affection.

Thoma dramatically puts a hand on his chest. “You wound me. I’d never thought my own spouse would choose Taroumaru over me! Where is the loyalty?”

The two of you broke into laughter, amused by each other’s antics.

It’s been almost two years since the time when you two visited Diluc and Jean’s wedding. True to your word, you return to Inazuma a few months after your trip to Mondstadt, officially residing in your homeland instead of Liyue. Thoma has been with you since you returned, and he has been nothing but helpful to you as the two of you make up for the lost time.

It took a while before you eventually started gaining feelings for him, which then eventually led to the two of you in a committed and happy relationship for the past three months. It’s safe to say that you’ve never been happier than ever, and you’re grateful for someone like Thoma to be by your side for so long.

And he’s grateful that his dream finally came true, happy that he has the honor of being yours, and you being his. He couldn’t imagine anything better than what he has now.

Unfortunately, the sweet moment between you both ended abruptly when your watch started ringing, reminding you of the time.

“Ah shoot, I gotta go. Miko’s going to kill me if I end up late.” You said, grabbing your bag and drink before kissing Thoma’s cheek and pet Taroumaru one last time. “Thanks for the drink, by the way.”

“Anything for you. Stay safe!” Your boyfriend tells you, watching as you run out of the cafe like the wind, leaving him alone with Taroumaru.

As soon as you’re gone, he lets out a dreamy sigh.

“Come, Taroumaru, it’s time to work.” He spoke to the Shiba Inu, petting his head before heading towards the sign of his café to flip it.

There’s nothing more to life than spending the rest of his days with you, and he’s more than content with the life he has with you.

It’s safe to say that the same goes with you.

PREVIOUS.

DAN'S NOTE.

Thank you guys so much for reading Evermore! I honestly have never thought I’d finished this from the very start, and yet here I am, and it’s all thanks to all of you who have spread your love and opinions on this series.

It was truly an honor to write this piece. It really makes me happy to see a lot of you guys commenting on each chapter, sending asks about how much you love Evermore and spit on Ayato as well as Shinsuke, and overall just you guys being interested in something I put my heart and soul to!

As someone who never once experienced having a lover nor went through a breakup, it’s quite tough for me to write about it in this series since I want the experiences to feel somewhat real, or better yet, not too cliche than it already is.

Of course, I also want this series to be somewhat a lesson to my dear readers, to those who need to let it all out, to those whose hearts are broken, to those who just need an escape from reality once in a while, and overall to everyone. I hope that whatever you guys are going through, you will get through it! If you can go through a breakup and deal with Shinsuke’s existence in this fic, then you can surely go through anything!

Since I’ve already expressed what I need to express in the previous chapter, I decided to drop some fun facts and trivia here!

This series was made out of spite because of how I lost the 50/50 to Keqing in Ayato’s first released banner on my first 10 pulls and wanted to make him suffer. Fortunately enough, writing this series seems enough to make him come home 80 pulls later b4 his banner ended!

I also wanted to write a story that’s based on my number one favorite Taylor Swift song from one of my favorite albums of hers: right where you left me! This song is one of the most relatable songs I’ve ever listened to ever since I first heard it in 2021, and it’s been stuck with me to this day as of 2024 (can you believe it? It’s been almost 4 years!)

And fun fact, I found out that the evermore album was released on my birthday (December 11), so it feels right that I made the series inspired by the album <3 !

The following are some fun facts from my drafts:

Diluc's arranged spouse was supposed to be Donna, but I unfortunately didn’t make that happen since the way Donna would treat the situation wouldn’t be the same way as what Jean would do.

Thoma wasn’t actually supposed to be a male lead until I started planning for the no body no crime part. I don’t know what made me assign Thoma as the second male lead, but when I did, I didn’t like how my series will be another “second male lead who has no chance with the main lead” so I made him the person the reader actually ends up with in the epilogue soon after!

– below are things that i’ve scraped from this series ! –

Before I started planning each chapter, Diluc was originally supposed to be the reader's plus one. The plot involves how the reader asks Diluc, reader’s friend since college, to be their plus one since he lives in Mondstadt and he reluctantly agrees, and throughout the wedding trip, they slowly fall in love with each other.

It was such a good plot too if you saw the details I wrote for it ! But I scrapped it off because the plot would’ve been really long, and I want the series to focus on the story of reader finally and properly moving on from their breakup with their first love, Ayato. I’m aware that I could’ve followed this plot while reader moves on with Ayato, but again, I feel like it just wasn't it for me. though who knows, i might make a one-shot fic of it ;)

Another fun fact is there was supposed to be a second part series after Evermore that’s called Folklore and it ends with you dating Kaeya.

in this series, you first meet Kaeya during Diluc’s wedding and spend time with him. Sure enough, you hate that guy, but you had no choice but to spend time with him throughout your stay in Mondstadt since he’s such a great tour guide.

You were glad that you’re finally back to Liyue and not be able to see that playboy anymore, so consider yourself shocked when you waltzed into your office and saw him.

Turns out, the reason why he’s always spending time with you in Mondstadt is not because of how he wants to guide you around mondstadt, but because he wants to get to know the person he’ll be working with in Liyue!

So yes, this is somewhat an enemies to lovers + office romance story, and unlike Diluc and Ayato, this guy has no chance in getting into arranged marriages and immediately shoots his shot with you ;> !

Extra note: Dainsleif was supposed to be in folklore series as the second male lead hehe

I was really looking forward to writing this series until chapter thirteen happened. If I have to be real honest, I was disappointed with myself for what happened, and I was afraid that you guys will be even more disappointed with me if i make another series, so i immediately scrapped it off :((

But to clarify more, even if chapter thirteen went well, I would’ve still scrapped it off since – as you know, I have a health issue that caused my big hiatus – and I’m afraid that I wouldn’t be able to finish the second series at all, let alone start it.

Instead of that, I decided to just make it into one of the epilogues of what could’ve been! Feel free to check the folklore epilogue once it’s out!

I think I can reveal more information with the Q&A from my evermore survey, so while I’m compiling your questions, feel free to ask more right away!

That's all for this series. Once again, thank you so so so much for giving me the pleasure of writing this fic. I might not make a series soon, but if I ever have the luxury of time, I hope you guys will be there to read it.

Thank you!

Sincerely, your penpal, Dan xoxo

PENPALS. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @mrkamisato @shenhesl0ver @serami00 @serenareiss @hiqhkey @emperatris-rinaka @bystander36 @irisxiel @ladycoleigh @034ven @dear-dairiess @owozi8 @hadesaedes @chiro-chiro-kun @hersscherofyatta @mariusvonhangme @yuzuricebun @hoshikistarlette @solaaresque @crowbird @lordbugs @flowersforayato @headintheclouddd @estelwrld @giyusimpsassemble @irethepotatosblog @moonlightaangel @alice0blog @shotosbrainrot @sniffoat @chihawari @mxsomn @kuni-kuzushii @jiminscarmex @mitsukii114 @nejibot @ylimeprive @sachispet @loreleis-world @sn-owo @stareforecasts @someonetookmynamelmao @ceylestia @lychme @ymikkos @reallysporadicarcade @melodyyamino @dudufodd @somberrock @yevenly @lemontum @nghing @elychee @astrxlis @denkineptune @franini @sophisticatedleslie @thedivinepriestress @smashsubs @httpmitsuya @bl6o6dy @cottonkendi (please visit this post if you'd like to be tagged!)

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thepixelelf · 1 year

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Oh Baby, You - svt smau

The birth of your son three years ago was what caused your breakup with Wonwoo, your longtime (and at that point, long distance) partner. Now, you're getting concerned that Orion is starting to look a lot like his dad, but that's not your only problem. Wonwoo is back… and he's living across the hall.

Genres: smau, romance, drama, comedy, angst, single parent au

Pairing: jeon wonwoo x afab they/she reader x mystery member(s)

Warnings: coarse language, conversations about sex, mentions of pregnancy, mama/mom/mother is used to refer to reader's parental status sometimes, infidelity, light alcoholism, miscommunication as a plot device, some of the teenies are not so nice at times, slut shaming, angst, everything is unrealistically dramatic because this is basically a kdrama in text/twitter form. warnings may be updated as they come, but I will label chapters properly if it's anything major

Note: unfortunately, I did have to make the mc for this series have female reproductive organs because, well... that's the plot. I couldn't find a good way around it :( if anyone reading this is discouraged, please know that pretty much every other fic I've ever posted is gender neutral. So, if you think you might've liked this smau, please check out my masterlist! hopefully there will be something you like there :) ALSO! if anyone makes fun of Orion's name just know that it's the name of a precious baby cousin of mine and if you bully smau Orion you are bullying irl Orion!! do not touch him!!!

(new!) Updates will post when I have the time and motivation

The taglist is full! Leave a comment under the post linked here if you're not on the main taglist to be notified when Oh Baby, You is completed.

Profiles I: Orion's Prettyboy(gn) Posse

Profiles II: Wonwoo's Famous Friend and the Other Guys

Profiles III: Gyu and the Rise of Capitalism

1. Everybody Loves Vernon

2. Tens Among Tens

3. Grown Ass Men

4. I Hate This FUcking Family

5. The Ones Keeping Secrets

6. A LITTLE Curious

7. You Go Girl Get His Ass

8. The Calm

9. The Storm

10. It's Been a While

11. Fucked Up Coincidences

12. Not... a BAD Guy

13. Still So Affected

14. Just My Type

15. Nothing to Hide

16. Fists Up

17. Act Natural

18. Girl, They Blocked You

19. Plot Relevance

20. Actually it is a Date

21. It's All Pretty Confusing

22. Scripted

23. All it Takes is a Smile

24. Yoon Jeonghan is Watching

25. Completely Surrounded

26. No Such Thing

27. What Does That Mean

28. A Name I've Heard Recently

29. Can't Risk It

30. Errand Day

31. One Day at a Time

32. Confrontation

33. Not Looking to be a Parent Any Time Soon

34. What if I

35. For This Little Guy

36. Get Blocked

37. I'll Take Care of You

38. Messed Up, Stupid, and Jaded

39. You Fucked Up

40. That's For You to Figure Out

41. Need to Try Something

42. Recovery Mission?

43. Your Everything

44. You're Cute When You're Like This

45. Not Sponsored

46. This is Nothing

47. Promise? Promise

48. Hhrk

49. A Busy Afternoon

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disasterofastory · 1 year

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The Pretty Little Actress Of Rogers Masterlist

The Pretty Little Actress Of Rogers Masterlist Steve Rogers x Reader Mafia AU

Summary: You agree to open your relationship to save your marriage, but when Steve appears in your life, you are not sure anymore what you want.

A/N: About the '+' chapters: they are extra chapters. It gives enough room for me to add something to the story later. More like shorter parts and additions.

About the story: After the story of Bucky and his Bunny (The Maid Of Mr. Barnes Masterlist), we jump back in time to see the story of Steve and his Sugar.

Thank you for your feedbacks and notes.

Chapters

Part 1 - Open - Your husband is impatient, and you get flowers.

+ Rules - You have some rules if your husband really wants to do this.

Part 2 - Steve Rogers - You meet the man who sent you the flowers.

Part 3 - Call - You call Steve. This marriage is open for you too.

+ The pretty actress - You are in Steve’s mind and his friends know it.

Part 4 - First date - You go on a date with Steve.

Part 5 - Whiskey - Steve takes you to one of his nightclubs.

+ Dance - You have the courage to dance.

Part 6 - Plans - You spend your weekend with your husband and plan the next with Steve.

Part 7 - Weekend - You are with Steve while husband is away.

+ A cold morning - You wake up next to Steve.

+ Bucky - The horse

+ Anything you want - Steve wants to spoil you.

Part 8 - Friends - You meet Steve’s friends at the opening party of his new club.

+ Next step - You spend the night with Steve.

+ Endless night - Steve doesn’t want you to go home. /18+

+ Script - Steve helps you learn your lines. /18+

+ Night at the museum - Steve gives you whatever you want.

+ Winter - After your date with Steve abruptly ends, you wait for him at home.

Part 9 - Gala - Steve and your husband meet.

Part 10 - Change of mind - Your husband tries to mend things between you but maybe it’s too late.

+ What you want - Steve is sure, and you?

Part 11 - The right choice - You have to say goodbye to someone.

Part 12 - The right path - You made your decision, it’s time to walk on that path.

The End

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #mafia!steve rogers #mafia!steve x reader #mafia au #avengers masterlist #avengers imagine #marvel masterlist #marvel imagine

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arteastica · 8 months

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early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (8)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 4.2k

“My goodness! You are totally going to find a husband tonight.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” The crisp air flowing in through the open window caressed your bare skin and prompted you to ask the question.

“Who cares? Woman, look at yourself.” Hitch grabbed you by the shoulders and turned you to the mirror.

You examined your reflection again, trying your best to find the confidence required to finally step out of the ladies’ room. You had chosen one of your favorite silk dresses for the occasion: sky-colored, cowl neck that stopped exactly where it was comfortable, and thin bow-tie straps to hold everything up. Yes, definitely a favorite. Favorite, as in ‘best liked’ and not as in ‘frequently worn’. In fact, this was the first time the poor thing ever left your room, where a teenager version of yourself used to wear it late into the night, when the risk of getting caught by your mother equaled zero. She didn’t even know you owned it, but you were certain the thigh slit and the flirty silhouette would be reason enough for her to disapprove. But to be fair, you didn’t remember the fabric ever hugging you this way before. Your body had obviously changed a lot over the years, and you were surprised it still fit.

“Jeez. I really wish I wasn’t on duty tonight, so I could wear one of these.” Hitch let out a disheartened sigh. Her chin was resting on your right shoulder and her eyes examined your reflection from head to toe. When they stopped at the slit in your right leg she said “Those thighs won’t have a problem finding their way into a gentleman’s heart.” She gave you one of those smirks you had missed so much. “Or into his bed…”

“Sadly, I’m not here for that tonight. I’m here for work.”

“Sorry but no one who is here just for work, one, looks this good in a slip dress, and two, takes this long to come out. What about punctuality?”

She was right. You had already taken too long. So, very reluctantly, you decided to walk out the door. But as soon as you stepped out, heads started turning in your direction, the attention mostly coming from women wearing pastry-shaped gowns and opera gloves.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t expecting the attention. You knew the dress had been a daring decision. The moment you slipped on it, you confirmed it had the potential to make heads turn, and maybe some part of you actually wanted a taste of that. Would admitting it make you an attention-seeker? According to your script, however, the scene was supposed to play out a little different, and you had imagined yourself actually enjoying it. But, in real-life, the only thing the dress was succeeding at was awakening dormant insecurities, like that feeling of inadequacy you had almost forgotten about. How could you have forgotten though? You used to be inseparable. That was until you started working at the Survey Corps. You thought of your office, and the familiar picture comforted you for a brief moment, until you remembered it was now miles away.

You smoothed down the front of your dress, in part to look busy and also to dry your sweaty palms, but unlike the silky fabric, the crowd’s eyes felt rough on your skin. And you wished you had decided to wear something less special, something that would allow you to camouflage and pass as one of them. Why did I wear this? Your eyes tried to find the answer in a very promising spot on the floor. Maybe it had been out of pity for the dress. As a dress, it would be disappointing to spend all your life in a dark closet. Maybe it had been for old time’s sake. Since you hadn’t felt that out of place in months, maybe you wanted to remind yourself of the sensation. Or maybe it had all come down to something as simple as the color, and how it reminded you of something you had grown to like so much over the last months.

You turned to Hitch, displaying your bare back to the crowd.

“I can’t do this. Not like this. I’ll go get my coat.”

“Absolutely not. You look perfect, that’s why they are staring, because they like what they see. In fact, I would be worried if they weren-” Her eyes got lost in a particular spot on the other side of the room. “Woah, your boss is hot.”

You turned around and felt like you were coming undone. You didn’t understand why all these eyes were fixed on you, when clearly the best view was across the room, where he was standing.

One look at him and it was obvious that tuxedos had been created just so they could be worn by him. That black suit was exactly the kind of fit a woman would pick out for her man to wear at an event like this. And, while the slicked back hair undoubtedly contributed to the fireworks lighting up all over your skin, the real devil was in all the other details. It was in the way he kept his shoulders back and his chin high as he spoke, in the unconcerned drumming of his fingers against his leg, in the way he threw his head back when laughing, and in the way he seemed to fall into place everywhere he went, whether it was a room full of intimidating people, or a field full of titans. Confidence shone through his skin. Confidence, as well as everything else that made him attractive, came from deep within.

“Alright, now go out there and fulfill your duties.” You felt your friend's hands on your shoulders. “That also includes finding yourself a rich suitor who asks for your hand in marriage.” She whispered into your ear before pushing you into the crowd.

Across the room, the commander was talking to a group of older-looking men. Despite your legs feeling as steady as a house of cards, you started walking towards him. You had successfully made it halfway through the uncomfortable stares, when his eyes finally landed on you. Like everyone else so far, he did a double-take. However, unlike the others, he didn’t turn to the next person to whisper something. Instead, he started making his way to you. And most notably, unlike the others, whose eyes traveled all over your body, back and forth between every patch of exposed skin and resting at all the wrong stops, his didn’t. As he walked to you, his eyes were fixed on yours. And, in that moment, you realized you were very lucky. Because those were the kind of eyes that made the world around you vanish, uncomfortable stares and all.

When you finally met halfway, you decided you would gladly give up your ability to blink. It would be a small price to pay if it meant you would never miss a second of that irresistible smile and the way it made his eyes crinkle. He reached for your hand, and took it in with the kind of gentleness you wouldn’t expect from a man who spends his life around flesh-eating giants.

He brought your hand to his lips, and when they met the back of your fingers, you prayed he didn’t notice all the hairs on your forearms standing on end. The rest of your body was clearly getting jealous of your hand. You could tell by the way your lips parted and let out a very subtle, and you hoped silent, moan.

“May I?” He offered you his arm and you took it promptly, deciding you wouldn’t mind holding on to it for the rest of your life, and if that wasn’t possible, then at least for the rest of the evening.

When you got a closer look at the men he had been previously talking to, you realized you actually knew one of them: Commander Pixis, head of the Garrison. You had never met him formally, but you had seen him a few times around the capital. However, before any introduction could take place, a man with gentle-looking features spoke in a soft voice.

“My lady, Erwin is undoubtedly a very lucky man.”

His words took a few seconds to register with you, but when they finally did, your ears started burning, the sensation spreading like fire to the rest of your face as you realized that they, most likely, still didn't know you were his assistant.

After conversing some more, the commander asked to be excused and guided you to another group of people. And so, as you made your way around the ballroom, you realized there were even more eyes on you now, and it wasn’t surprising, the man beside you was reason enough. But the stares didn’t hold as much weight as they did before, because right now you had his arm to hold.

You glanced up at him, and your lips curved slightly as you remembered the little incident from earlier. Much like that man, these onlookers most likely didn’t know you were just his assistant. And something about that, and the speculations it could lead to, the rumors it could start, and everything else it could imply about you and him, made your insides feel as fizzy as the contents of the glass you were holding. For all they knew, the night would end with your dress discarded on the floor, and bodies tangled under the covers. And you found yourself wishing that whatever assumptions they were making would actually come true.

As the night went on, a couple of things caught your attention. One of them was Captain Levi, who looked like he would much rather attend his own funeral. And the other one was a certain pattern of behavior: Every man you met while holding the commander’s arm, purposely avoided looking at your exposed thigh or bare shoulders, and while their eyes would occasionally linger on your collarbones for an innocent second or two, they would quickly migrate somewhere else.

The evening was already coming to a close when the pattern was sadly broken. To be more precise, it was when you met the group of men standing at the top of the stairs. They had been laughing boisterously and drinking steadily since the evening started. Most of them looked like they were well into their fifties, and all six men were wearing ostentatious sashes dotted with the biggest collection of golden studs you had ever seen. The loudest, and presumably oldest, of them all greeted the commander animatedly.

“Erwin Smith, the legend himself. I’m still waiting for that rematch.” You noticed the cufflinks on his shirt and wondered if those were diamonds, because if they were, then they’ve got to be the biggest in existence. “I’ve been working on my double attacks.”

“Intuition is sometimes far more helpful than memorizing patterns, my lord.” The commander replied in a gentle voice.

“That’s why you’re always one step ahead.” The older man let out a guffaw that, in retrospective, felt a little unnecessary, before turning to you. “Woah. Just like in the game, you never cease to surprise me, Erwin. In very pleasant ways, I must say.” His eyes meticulously outlined all the curves of your body, paying special attention to your covered cleavage, and the amount of time he spent there made you wonder if he had somehow developed the ability to see through fabric. “However, I will never understand how your mind works. There is no way I would bring the missus to an event like this. I mean, the whole purpose of a party is to have fun!” The man and his friends broke out in strident laughter, and that was the only moment his eyes left your body, when he tilted his head back to enjoy his own remark.

“I mean no disrespect to you, my lady,” he may not but his body language sure as hell did, “so please don’t take offense.” With tears in his eyes and still recovering from earlier, he acknowledged you briefly before turning to the commander. “But I was hoping we could become family someday, Erwin. You left quite the impression on my youngest.”

You suddenly felt a burning sensation in your chest, and it had nothing to do with the unsolicited attention it had been getting from the man.

“She asked if you were coming tonight. Sent her regards.” The audacity of this man. If the commander were actually your man, how would you feel listening to all this? “Maybe you could join us for lunch tomorrow. She would be delighted to play against you one more time. She’s brilliant, isn’t she?” And right there and then, you realized there would actually be no difference between how you would feel if you were his wife and how you were feeling in that very moment. This man was basically setting the commander up for a little chess date with his daughter, when his alleged wife, fiancée, girlfriend or whatever, was standing right beside him, holding his arm.

“She’s a very gifted young lady.” The commander’s deep voice contrasted the man’s grating tone. “However, I’m afraid I must decline your kind offer, my lord. I will be returning to the headquarters first thing in the morning.”

“I see.” The man cleared his throat, the gleeful undertone seemingly gone all of a sudden. “Anyway, you’re a lucky man. There’s no denying.” His eyes bore into yours, successfully reminding you of a vulture scavenging for rotting carrion. “Your lady is gorgeous.”

That last remark made you feel like you had swallowed a rock; the way he had said it made your legs feel heavier than concrete; and the stare he had given you while saying it, made you feel as clothed as a titan. You knew once this man found out you were not with the commander, you were done. Once, the words ‘she’s my assistant’ left his mouth, this man would come after you. And you also knew that you wouldn’t get far, not with your legs in that state.

“Yes. She really is.” The commander’s voice sounded a lot like the rainy mornings back at the base. You looked up and found him staring at you, his lips curved into a soft smile, his gaze wrapping you like that well-worn blanket your mother always told you to throw away but you never did. You stared back into his eyes and what you saw, took you back to that day in the Forest of Giant Trees, with his heartbeat like a lullaby, and his arms like a sweet childhood memory.

But then, murmuring sounds came flooding in like muddy water spilling out of the sewers. You turned your head in their direction and realized the older man wasn’t the only one who had taken an interest in your dress, but also his friends.

And you decided you would gladly take the women’s stares over these any day. Who knows, maybe the women had only been thinking about how the color didn’t suit you or how fake the silk looked. But something about the way these men were grinning and whispering to each other told you that they were looking for something in particular, and you were sure it wasn’t the tailor’s name. You would much rather feel cheap and underdressed, than dirty and undressed.

You held onto the commander’s arm with your other hand as well, and snuggled closer, in what seemed to be your body’s desperate attempt to elude the attention.

“If you excuse us, gentlemen.” Much like the seasons, his voice always seemed to know when it was its turn to arrive. He guided you away, and at some point between the top of the stairs and the main hall, his hand came to rest at the small of your back. Even through the fabric, his fingers caused your skin to burn. And for the second time that night, you could feel the rest of your body getting jealous.

“Commander, I think I’ll call it a night.” You announced once you reached the main hall. “Thank you for tonight.” You gently let go of his arm and wondered if that was what autumn leaves felt as they were about to fall from the branches.

He nodded slightly, and, probably having no idea how nice it was going to feel, then said: “I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh don’t worry about it. My house is actually very close.”

“All the more reason to do it then.” His eyes crinkled in that enticing way they usually did and, honestly, you didn’t feel like pretending you were against his proposal.

The distinctive smell of frost infused the night air, and slipped into your bustle coat as you walked down the familiar streets that led to your house. There was a lingering warmth still left from the summer, but the mist that hovered above the cobblestones signaled the impending arrival of winter. However, they weren’t fighting for dominance, and you wondered if you would ever know such harmony. You glanced at the man walking just a couple of feet beside you, his eyes, on the road ahead; his mind, somewhere you didn’t know; but his hands, his hands were in his pockets, and you wanted to reach inside his coat and take one.

It had been a dreamy night for the most part, but you could feel your heart shrinking a little with every step you took. Every passing street light signaled another lost chance at getting closure. And you still had lots of words awaiting in your tongue, lots of questions lingering on your lips, and your mouth was heavy with all the things that were yet to be said.

“Lord Wald seems to have problems with alcohol.” He spoke in his usual quiet voice, but there was a certain undertone propping up his words.

“Didn’t seem like that to me.” He looked at you, slight confusion painting his features and causing his head to tilt to one side. “They seemed to get along quite well.”

He chuckled. And you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.” His eyes were fixed in the cobblestones below his feet, and the underlying something from earlier was still there, but this time you were able to put a name to it: it sounded like remorse.

“It’s okay.” You gave him a reassuring smile, even though he wasn’t looking. “But I feel bad for his wife, and honestly for any woman who crosses paths with him when she’s not around.”

“I highly doubt her presence makes any difference when it comes to his behavior.”

You looked at your hands, they were holding each other as if seeking comfort. “So, you play with her often?” You felt his gaze on you but didn’t look back. “His daughter.”

“Met her once. Very impressive player. Cannot say she got it from her father though.” You faked a smile at the exact same moment a tide of regret washed over you, finally understanding what your mother meant when she said chess was an important life skill.

And speaking about your mother, you caught a whiff of a familiar and otherwise pleasant earthy scent and prayed you wouldn’t find her beloved climbing hydrangea, but when you looked up, it was there. And so was your front door.

“It’s here.” You took a deep breath and released the parting words you had been dreading to say. “Thank you for walking me home, commander.”

He took a step closer, reached for your hand and brought it to his lips, but this time, they parted slightly, taking your knuckles between them in a single, soft kiss. The warmth of his lips and the crisp autumn air blowing on wet skin created a delicious contradiction on your hand. His eyes were closed and his lips lingered, some would say for way longer than was required for a hand kiss. It was a sight deserving of a moan, so you gave him a silent one. One that created a playful tickle in your belly.

But maybe it wasn’t silent enough, because in that very moment he looked back at you. And, as you stared back into the deep blue, you realized those were the kind of eyes that could tell you a million things before his lips could even say a word. Tonight, they were telling you something as well, and although you didn’t know exactly what it was, you knew a few other things.

You knew why your skin tingled under his gaze, and burned under his touch. You knew why the sight of him lifted your heart to the sky while his absence made it sink into a bottomless pit. You knew why his scent reminded you of every secret place you hid in as a little girl, and his voice, of a happier future you wanted to escape to. You knew why the thought of another woman interested in him set your heart on fire, and the idea of him interested in her, crushed it into pieces. And you also knew why you had worn the dress.

You knew the blue of the silk would complement your skin just the same way the blue of his eyes did. You had decided to wear the dress just so you could feel what it was like to have his eyes all over your body. His eyes were not only allowed, but welcome and explicitly invited, to explore every inch of your skin, covered or not. He could stare as much as he wanted, for as long as he wanted, in all the places he wanted. But only him. Because you had worn the dress for him. However he was too much of a gentleman to do it, so you gave him permission.

“Do you like my dress?” You took a step closer, and noticed your hand was still in his.

His eyes drifted to your lips, where they lingered for a second, before following the path marked by your collarbones, down to your clothed breasts where they rested momentarily. Then, they paid a short visit to your hips before finally landing on your thigh, visible through the open coat. It was there where they seemed to feel most at home. And it was then, when you had his eyes on your bare skin, that you became aware of how soaked you were. You squeezed his fingers on instinct at the realization, which caused him to trace his steps back to your eyes.

“Very much.” His voice, almost a whisper; his lips, slightly parted. And you could see his breath, as well as the rising and falling of his chest. He was so close you wondered if he could see what you were thinking of, if he could see how much you wanted him to take the silky fabric off you.

In such proximity, his cologne was even more intoxicating. It was musky and clean, like a fresh bubble bath; sweet and gentle, just like him. You knew it was something you would always crave, even after tonight was long gone. And you wondered how many women had been in this intimate space before, and how many of them were craving his perfume right now.

The small of your back was still tingling from where he touched you earlier. And the rest of your body was demanding the same attention, so you took another step closer.

Goodness, he was so handsome. The kind of handsome that makes you want to know how his lips moved in a kiss, and how his hands followed the curves of your body. And the situation laid out before you provided the perfect opportunity.

The perfect opportunity to stop pretending your feelings were written in some foreign language you had never heard before. The perfect opportunity to call it what it was, once and for all.

“Commander.”

“Yes?” His eyes couldn’t decide between yours and your lips.

“There’s something I want to ask you.” Your voice had never sounded so feeble. “Would you- would you please-” He nodded encouragingly but his breath on your skin was too distracting, successfully causing the opposite effect. “I- I can’t tell you.”

“Then show me.”

His eyes were holding your gaze, and his lips, you could almost taste them.

You could also hear, however, shuffling on the other side of the door, and you looked up to find a light turned on in the second floor.

“If it’s my mother, she’ll ask you to come in. If it’s my father, he’ll force you to.” He let out a chuckle and you found yourself wishing you could make him laugh forever. “Would you like to come in?”

“It’s late. I don’t want to importune anyone.”

“Good choice. If you get my father started, he’ll talk about royal family conspiracy theories all night long.”

“Sounds interesting.”

You did your best to return his smile despite the emptiness you felt when letting go of his hand.

“See you tomorrow, commander. Good night.”

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee

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otomehoneyybearr · 6 months

Text

Quick announcements about

A3! in English

Maybelle Lace and I are working together to translate Act 12!

This is where the translated “script” version of all chapters will be, similar to the structure of Yaycupcake Wiki page and other translations on here.

Maybelle will be uploading the full video of Act 11 & 12 ((at the beginning of 2024)), and has already uploaded the other Acts, newest event stories, and Backstage Stories—all translated— onto YouTube, so please check it out and support them if your able to!

We have a lot of the chapters done, and I will uploading Act 12: Episode 1 on October 31!

Unfortunately, however, there won’t be an upload schedule of the translations on this blog for the time being.

Sorry about that (٥｡•‸•̀｡)

Lastly, even though I haven’t worked with them, I still wanted to mention the Middling Director channel on YouTube, as they have uploaded all of the English server’s content before it shut down. Please check it out and support them if you can! 🌷

That’s all,

Thank you for your time!

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

#a3! act addict actors #act addict actors #a3!#a3 #a3! act 12 #a3! translation #a3! act 12 translation

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tessenpai · 1 month

Text

Kono Oto Tomare! Chapter 131 Scans and Rough TL

Disclaimer: Please DO NOT use this translation to make your own TL of the chapter!! The KOT TL group works very hard to give you the most accurate translation, that does as much justice to the original script as possible. This is a ROUGH translation. That means is faulty and there must be mistakes in certain places. This is just for impatient people like myself to get a grasp on what is going on in the chapter! You can REFERENCE my TL if you want to discuss the chapter but never USE it as it was your own.

Scans: https://klz9.com/jxsh-kono-oto-tomare-raw-chapter-131.html

Page 1

Side text: Ichiei's performance, begins with silence

Chapter Title: #131 My Story

Page 2

*No Text*

Page 3

*No text*

Page 4

*No text*

Page 5

*No text*

Page 6

Hiro & Takezou [thoughts]: ----...Ah

Satowa[thoughts]: This...

Page 7

Collective thought: Damn

Page 8

Kifune-sensei: Miran-chan!

Miran: !

Miran: Kifune-sensei!

Kifune-sensei: Welcome to Ichiei. Is your luggage in the dorm already?

Miran: Yes

Kifune-sensei: Then let me show you around the school.

Miran: Thank you very much.

Kifune: The entry exams were difficult, weren't they? You did a great job.

[Memory starts]

Miran: Eh? Ichiei High School?

Kifune-sensei: Yeah. If you'd like, why don't you give it a chance? To the Japanese Music Department, I mean.

Miran: Ichiei, he said... Even I know about it... It's a music school.

Miran's mom: Ahh, but...

Page 9

Miran's mom: In the Japanese Music Department, all the children play koto, isn't that right? And they are all extremely good at it, aren't they..?

Kifune-sensei: Not only the koto. How to put it-

Kifune-sensei: The most proficient children from all over the country converge there.

Miran's mom: And you believe that Miran...

Kifune-sensei: --And so.

Kifune-sensei: I believe that Miran's abilities are now on par to that level.

Page 10

Kifune-sensei: Miran-chan has avoided playing in ensembles and listening to kids her own age play until now, hasn't she?

Kifune-sensei: Of course, it's not like that is a bad thing.

Kifune-sensei: --However.

Kifune-sensei: Here's a path that I believe will expand your world, is what I'm trying to say.

Kifune-sensei: And I'd like to guide you through it while I'm at it.

Miran [thoughts]: The path that Sensei has thought so hard about, for my sake...

Miran [thoughts]: It's scary, but...

Miran [thoughts]: If it's the current me, then----...!!

Miran: I... Mom...!

Miran's mom: !

Page 11

Miran's mom: ...

Miran's mom: ---Yes. You can go if you want, Miran.

Kifune-sensei: Fu. I'm glad.

Kifune-sensei: Ah, but the fact that you are my particular student makes it that I can't give you any special treatment. From now on you will have to study very hard!

Miran: Yes!

[Memory ends]

Kifune-sensei: From here on, there are the practice rooms.

Kifune-sensei: If you ask for permission, you can use them whenever you want.

Page 12

Miran [thoughts]: Amazing... I get to play koto in such a wonderful place.

Miran [thoughts]: This is the place where I belonged all along.

Page 13

Miran[thoughts]: Eh...?

Kifune-sensei: Oh my, this sound...

Miran [thoughts]: Wo- woaah.

Miran [thoughts]: Incredible. What a beautiful sound...

Miran [thoughts]: The clarity and sound are by far the best I've ever heard.

Miran [thoughts]: Is it a teacher? A Senpai? Could I get to produce this kind of sound myself?

Kifune-sensei: Aah, as I thought.

Page 14

*No text*

Page 15

*No text*

Page 16

Luka: Kifune-sensei!

Kifune-sensei: Luka-kun, you've gotten to use the practice room right away, I see. And well? How do you like it?

Luka: I love it!

Miran [thoughts]: Wha-

Miran[thoughts]: What is this guy...? An angel...? No, maybe a prince...?

Kifune-sensei: Ah, Miran-chan. This is Luka Chevalier-kun.

Kifune-sensei: He is a scholarship student from France.

Kifune-sensei: Like you, he is also a new student and a first year in the Japanese Music Department.

Page 17

Miran [thoughts]: Scholarship... First-year...?

Luka: Nice to meet you! I'm Luka Chevalier. Umm... And you are---

Miran: Eh- ah... I'm... Sa- Saotome Miran.

Luka: Miran! That's such a beautiful name.

Miki [memory]: Miran!

Miran: ...Your- your Japanese is really good...

Miran [thoughts]: What am I even saying..?

Luka: Really!? Thank you!

Luka: The sound of Japanese is so beautiful, that after listening to it every day I was able to speak it.

Page 18

Miran: ...

Miran: ...That's amazing...

Miran [thoughts]: ...this is

Miran [thoughts]: Someone the same age as me...?

Imari: Hanahata Imari. I placed 2nd in the Koto National Contest in the Middle School category.

Tougo: Takamura Tougo. I won that same contest and came in 2nd the next year.

Kio: Houshou Kio. I am the seventh generation of the Akane Association Yamada Style Koto School. *

*If Satowa comes from the Hozuki Clan, Kio comes from the Akane Association. These families own Koto Schools.

Luka: I'm Luka Chevalier! When I was 10 I went on a trip to Japan. I met with the Koto for the first time, and fell in love with it!

Miran [thoughts]: When he was 10... same as me...

Luka: I am very happy I get to learn the koto in Japan!

Page 19

Imari: Didn't you win the Grand Prize at the International Music Competition last year?

Luka: You know about that? I'm so happy! Thank you!

Miran [thoughts]: International... Music Competition...

Miran [thoughts]: Grand Prize...

Luka: Is Miran's turn next.

Miran: Eh? Ah-

Miran: I- I'm Saotome Miran.

Miran: ...

Miran [thoughts]: --Ah... What do I do?

Miran [thoughts]: I've done nothing.

Page 20

Kio: Could it be that Kifune-sensei's apprentice that I've been hearing about... Is it you?

Miran: Eh- ah- Yes.

Kio: Haha So you got in through connections.

Miran[thoughts]: ---Eh...? Wha...

Kifune-sensei: Before there are any misunderstandings, let me make something clear.

Kifune-sensei: Miran-kun is indeed my apprentice but she went through the entrance exams and passed them accordingly.

Kifune-sensei: And just because she is my apprentice doesn't mean she will be receiving any special treatment.

Page 21

Kio: I know that. I was just joking, I'm sorry.

Miran [sfx]: Ba-dump...

Luka: Kifune-sensei rarely takes apprentices. That's incredible, Miran!

Luka: I'm very much looking forward to hearing your sound!!

Miran: Kuh...

Miran [thoughts]: ---...What is this

Miran[thoughts]: What

Page 22

Miran [thoughts]: This place is not different from where I was before---

Kifune-sensei: Miran-kun!

Kifune-sensei: Are you alright?

Miran[sfx]: ba-dump ba-dump

Miran[thoughts]: I- I'm fine, sorry.

Miran: That's right. I'm ok.

Miran[thoughts]: I'm ok.

Miran[thoughts]: Sensei recognized my ability. The school recognized it. I'm ok.

Miran[thoughts]: I didn't get in through connections. I'll prove it to them.

Page 23

Miran[thoughts]: Woah, everyone is so good.

Miran[thoughts]: That should be obvious. Only people of the highest level play here.

Miran[thoughts]: Ensembles are difficult. I feel like I'm always one step behind.

Miran[thoughts]: I have to practice more. More. More.

Kifune-sensei: The solo part will be played by Luka-kun.

Luka: Yes!

Miran[thoughts]: Once again, I got the easiest part...

Miran[thoughts]: It's as if

Page 24

Miran[thoughts]: It's as if this is what it would be like if big sis had encountered the koto instead of me

Miran[thoughts]: Stop. Don't think that.

Miran[thoughts]: It's ok. I just have to prove it. I just have to practice more than anyone else and become the best.

Miran[thoughts]: I definitely won't lose. For sure. Without a doubt.

Miran[thoughts]: He is the solo once again. Damn it. Next time, then.

Miran[thoughts]: I lost again. Next time. Next time. Next time.

Miran[thoughts]: I did it! Finally, I won the solo part.

Miran[thoughts]: He's got a cool face, and he doesn't even look like he's frustrated at all.

Miran[thoughts]: Is like he doesn't notice me at all.

Miran[thoughts]: And still, he plays brightly during the performance.

Miran[thoughts]: He wants to overtake the leading role. Don't make fun of me.

Luka: I can't believe it!! The real one!! My Goddess!! Satowa!!

Page 25

Miran[thoughts]: And then the person he admires showed up.

Miran[thoughts]: And that person who has the Prince's admiration seems to be someone who is preciously protected.

Miran: Again

Miran[thoughts]: A woman who seems to be blessed with everything

Miran[thoughts]: Why?

Miran[thoughts]: Why do you get to have everything?

Page 26

Miran[thoughts]: Why did it have to be the koto?

Miran[thoughts]: There are so many other paths.

Miran[thoughts]: And yet

Kifune-sensei[memory]: The solo part won't be played by Miran-kun, but by Luka-kun.

Miran[thoughts]: For me, there's only the koto.

Miran: That's right... For me, there's nothing but the koto...

Page 27

Miran[thoughts]: I have to get it back.

Kio: Is Miran-san still shutted-in?

Tougo: It has been a week already.

Kio: Isn't this really bad? If things continue like this, she won't be able to participat-

Luka: !!

Kio(?): Miran-san!

Luka: Phew... Miran...!

Page 28

Luka: I'm so glad you came back! Everyone was worried about you---

Imari: Hey, hold on.

Imari: That's the tuning for the solo part. You are playing the 3rd koto part...

Miran: I will play the solo.

Imari: ---What...?

Miran: I've come up with a new way to play it. Even Kifune-sensei will approve when he--

Imari: Are you messing with me? Just for how long are you not going to look around you?

Imari: They take the solo away from you one time, and you start cursing and throwing insults at Luka.

Miran: Shut up!! It's not only "one time"---

Imari: I haven't gotten to play a solo. Not even once!!

Page 29

Imari: And it's not only me, it's the same for Tougo and Kio!

Imari: You didn't even realize that, did you? You are always thinking "If I compare myself to Luka", so you aren't even interested in the rest of us, huh!?

Imari: The three of us have been playing the koto from as far as we can remember. Playing every single day, participating in tournaments and earning achievements.

Imari: And yet, you and Luka, who started playing later, get to play the solo parts?

Imari: Do you think we don't care about that!? Just what did you take us for!!??

Page 30

Imari: It's so freaking frustrating, isn't that obvious!!

Imari: On top of that, you just treat us like we are just some background characters and don't care about us at all! And still!

Page 31

Imari: And still, an ensemble is not only one person!

Imari: You and Luka are good. It frustrates me, but I get it. We are trying to do our best with the parts given to us!!

Imari: Luka was assigned the solo part in your place. Did you think I was just going to be happy for him like a moron?

Imari: As if!!

Imari: Everyone has their own thoughts and feelings about all of this!

Imari: You are not the only one suffering and in distress!!

Imari: Did that not even occur to you!?

Page 32

Imari[sfx]: Pant pant

Imari: Ugh...

Miran: Ah...

Luka: Imari.

Kio: Imari-san...

Miran: Um... I...

Imari: ...What you are missing

Imari: Is not skill, is not talent, and is not practice!

Page 33

Imari: It's imagination!

Side text: The weight of those important words.... resounds within Miran.

---Kono Oto Tomare! will continue in the next issue---

#kono oto tomare #kono oto tomare!#kot #sounds of life #stop this sound!#kot!#rough tl #kono oto tomare 131 #kono oto tomare! 131 #kot! 131 #kot 131

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abronzeagegod · 11 months

Text

Eldritch Tech Support Masterlist

A short story series that got started from a writing-prompt-s post

First: You work as tech support for ancient and supernatural beings

Second: Ethicurn War Demon needs a new warranty

Third: Server Support for the Things Between the Stars

Fourth: Support for On-Site Support that has fallen into the space between worlds

Fifth: Werewolves and Vampires have specific tech needs too

Sixth: A ghost is haunting my wifi

Seventh: I have a god in my computer (longest one thus far)

ETS Novella: Chapter 1: Helping a Spider Aspect

ETS Novella: Chapter 2: Small Gods

ETS Novella: Chapter 3: A Crumbling Temple Within a Computer

ETS Novella: Chapter 4: The Problem with Dreams

ETS Novella: Chapter 5: We're Going to Need More than Just Tech Support

ETS Novella: Chapter 6: Exterminators and the Knight of Doors

ETS Novella: Chapter 7: Wormy Aftermath

ETS Novella: Chapter 8: The Time Between

ETS Novella: Chapter 9: Don't Forget to Like and Swwarm

ETS Novella: Chapter 10: Everything has Gone Wrong

ETS Novella: Chapter 11: The Subject of Itself

ETS Novella: Chapter 12: Here is the Problem, It is a Big One

ETS Novella: Chapter 13: What Faith Can Do For You

ETS Novella: Chapter 14: A Hallowed Hall of Tech Support

ETS Novella: Chapter 15: The Battle of Tech Support

ETS Novella: Chapter 16: End Script

Eldritch Tech Support: The Algorithm of Chaos, novella available for purchase (or for free I'm not your parent) kofi itch.io

It includes all of the above, every single bit, but edited and slightly better written, plus two new (!!!) shorts: Ghostchains a short story about Exterminator Ji dealing with a basement made "artificial" "intelligence" and The Horrifying Reality of Being Known an epilogue with Lyta and Aeth being in a hotel room with only one bed and a bathtub big enough to fit like 3 people.

kofi to commission more if you like these

#my fiction #eldritch tech support #i'll update this list whenever i do a new one

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agent-cupcake · 12 days

Text

Flashbang

Chapter 11 - This is Love

Spotify Playlist / All Chapters / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 /Chapter 7/ Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 pt.1 / Chapter 9 pt.2 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12

Pairing: One Piece Live Action Buggy x f! Reader

Synopsis: The Buggy Pirates take the small island of Saline and begin final preparations for opening night. Unfortunately, certain parties refuse to follow the script and Captain Buggy has to improvise.

Warnings: Explicit smut, drugged sex, light bondage, dubious consent, violence/blood, angst

Word Count: 18.4k

Notes: Many things changed during the course of writing Flashbang, but, for good or ill, the events of chapters 11 & 12 were locked in all the way back in October or whenever I began this project. I hope you enjoy <3

You must like being the victim You've done nothing to get out

Of this pattern of pain Washed away by the rain You'll forgive me if I promise And do nothing but the same

It's pathetic, I know A jealous fool who won't let go If I was sorry for my actions Would I ever stoop so low?

Got no reason to live And I've got nothing left to give you But my love, love, fuck it, this is love

xxx

Saline’s misty orange-tinged gray sunrise had only begun to peek over the horizon when the world split into pieces with a huge boom. It blew open the curtains for the Buggy Pirates to descend en masse upon the small island village.

You stayed on the ship, as per Captain Buggy’s orders, but you knew the speech he would give upon making land. He’d practiced it for you.

“Ladies and gentlemen—boys and girls of all ages, may I have your attention!” Buggy said theatrically. “I am Buggy the Clown, you may recognize me from the poster. The eagle-eared fans among you may also have recognized that the loud cannonball sound you just heard was, in fact, not a cannonball, but something much bigger, scarier, and flashier: a Buggy Ball! Should you wish to spare yourselves and your fine village any further exploding, you’ll be good hosts to me and my crew.”

Buggy turned to you.

“Pause here,” he said, his tone returning to its normal timbre. “These island bumpkins are dumb as rocks, you gotta give ‘em time to understand what you’re telling them.”

He cleared his throat, opening his arms to address the non-existent audience.

“You lucky few have been given the opportunity of a lifetime! Tomorrow is the opening night of my show—the greatest, flashiest show in all of the East Blue. Not only will you get to witness history, all of you will have the chance to take part. Don’t worry, I’ve got enough parts for everyone. Participation is mandatory. Please line up right outside to get your tickets. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

It wasn’t until a little past noon that you actually left Buggy’s ship, loading up into a utility boat with Mohji and Richie after he anchored the ship in a somewhat hidden spot on the northwest part of Saline. Time hadn’t really mended your relationship with the man, but giving Richie the second half of your sandwich earned his temporary approval. He seemed a little worn out after the morning excitement, but he perked right up at the offer of food.

As the cool sunlight burned away the lurking morning mist, it had revealed a shabby chunk of land covered with scraggly foliage and a handful of broken down homes and buildings. It didn’t give the impression of a settlement or village so much as it looked like the type of place people got shipwrecked and stranded.

Of course, the arrival of pirates hadn’t done Saline any favors. In the few short hours that the Buggy Pirates had been there, all of the boats that had been anchored or docked were cannibalized and carted inland. The black powder smoke still drifting from the crater left by the Buggy Ball mixed with the aggressive scent of fishy water, creating a truly vile concoction. Locals who had been recruited to help loaded up wagons with more salvage at the direction of a handful of pirates. Pairs of men had been chained together as they pulled cartfulls of supplies.

You watched fear ripple through them as Richie strutted across the ruined beach, and then as that fear was redirected upon hearing barked threats from the pirates.

Mohji whistled to have a cart brought over which he immediately began loading up with supplies the two of you had brought from the ship. You helped to the best of your ability, although that was admittedly lacking. Everything was so heavy.

“That’s Captain Buggy’s stuff?” Mohji asked as you picked up the final trunk, the only thing you had really taken responsibility for packing and taking along.

“It is.”

“Take it to the mayor’s place,” Mohji said. “If you follow that road,” he pointed directly forward, “you can’t miss it.”

“Is it very far?” you asked nervously. The trunk was decently heavy. Mohji gave you a look, clearly annoyed. “Um, nevermind. I understand, sir.”

He nodded.

Taking a deep breath, you hefted the trunk. You could do this. It was fine. Everybody else was doing far more strenuous work, you could do this tiny little thing. Slowly, you crossed the sandy, trash littered beach towards the road Mohji indicated. Wagon imprints all crossed northeast. The dirt road you followed passed a few houses and a larger shack you assumed was a schoolhouse of some kind. Saline truly was a dumpy, dismal place.

Frequently, you had to take breaks and set the trunk down. It had things Buggy asked for. The basics. Makeup, clothes, other various things you really didn’t see the use for but knew he would complain if you didn’t bring along. The crew was going to spend the night on Saline rather than returning to the ship.

After a very long, sweaty, difficult walk, you arrived at the mayor’s house. It was impossible to mistake for anything else. It wouldn’t have looked like much in Lafitte, or even Barley, but the comparison to what amounted to little more than metal roofed wooden shacks was stark. Just as apparent was that it seemed like the pirates had left it relatively intact. Gritting your teeth, you hefted the trunk up three steps onto the covered deck before setting it down, collapsing next to it.

Weak. You were glad there was nobody around to see how thoroughly exhausted the simple task had left you.

Eventually, you found the strength to stand up and brush yourself off, stretching your sore arms and back. The door was open when you turned the handle so you resigned yourself with a big breath for the final push. Picking up the trunk, you hauled it into the main room of the house. By all standards save for the dismally poor ones set by Saline, the place was unremarkable. But it was clean, nicely furnished, and had multiple rooms. You trudged into the bedroom, appraising the large bed and overstuffed chairs. Somebody had been paying the mayor above his station, and you were certain you knew who.

Finally depositing the trunk on the floor, you sat on one of the chairs to catch your breath. The little walk left you lightheaded. Would that ever fade? Would you ever stop being so embarrassingly wimpy?

Kicking yourself for adding self pity to your physical weakness, you stood up and shook out your arms. It was fine. You would only ever get stronger by pushing yourself to be strong.

Leaving the mayor’s house, you made your way to the eastern part of Saline, passing more metal-roofed shacks. As you got closer to the place where they were setting up the tent, you saw lots of busy pirates as well as more haggard volunteers. Everyone had more important things to worry about than you, it wasn’t until you had reached the big painted entrance to the tent that you heard somebody calling for you.

Perking up, you looked around, catching sight of Pippa walking out of the literal mouth of the tent—a huge painted clown’s mouth, to be exact. Even in the dismal ruins of Saline and after a hard day of fighting and working, she was beautiful. Her sweat merely sparkled on her perfect skin, her smudged makeup coming across as seductive rather than messy. Stray hairs had come loose from the blond tail swinging behind her as she walked, curling over her forehead and cheeks like a frame for her lovely face.

“Look at you,” she said with a grin, giving your outfit an approving look. “Did you put this together all by yourself?”

You smiled, relieved to see a familiar face and flattered by the praise. Your outfit was a mixture of old and new, a loose red sweater you tucked into the fitted waist of a skirt, a buttoned shirt’s collar peeking out for a white tie you’d done up in a bow. “I did.”

“You’re learning so fast,” Pippa said with a self-satisfied, airy sigh. “Captain Buggy owes me a raise for what I’ve done with you.”

You laughed, a little embarrassed. “Captain Buggy… Is he in there?”

“You can’t hear him?” she asked, raising a brow. She waited for a moment, her head tilted as if listening intently. Not that you had to listen hard to hear Buggy shouting directions. The sound made your stomach twist up into nervous knots.

“Is he angry?” you asked.

“He’s… stressed,” Pippa said. “Unless he calls for you specifically, it’s best to stay out of his way.” You nodded, wincing as you heard more of his shouting from within. “If you’re looking for something to do, you can come with me,” she offered. “I’m sure we’ll find you something to keep you busy. Come on.”

She walked past you, her long legged strides forcing you to rush to keep up. “Where are you going?” you asked.

“The aviary. You wouldn’t believe the sort of stuff they’ve got locked up in there.”

“The aviary?” you repeated, confused. “Isn’t that a place for birds?”

“Yeah. That’s the lab they’re building, they’ve got a bunch of birds in there. I guess they use them for something, although I don’t care to know what.” She pursed her lips. “It’s unsettling. They all sound so sad, I’ve never heard a bird call like that. Anyway, you don’t have to hang around in there, we’re just taking the shit he’s got stored away.”

A bit of an awkward silence caught there, your thoughts trending towards the grim, stuck on aviary. Dad liked birds, didn’t he? Especially the rare ones. That thought hurt more than it should, which led you to thinking about other things that hurt, and then about what happened yesterday.

Pippa seemed so upbeat and blase. It was hard to imagine anything affecting her the way it did you. Still.

“Pippa?” you said hesitantly. “About yesterday, I… I wanted to thank you.”

Pippa looked straight ahead, frowning. “I don’t want to be thanked for ratting out one of my own, no matter how justified it was,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically hard.

“Yeah,” you agreed, guilt squeezing your heart. “I… I, um… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that you would, only that… Thank you. I’m sorry you had to get involved.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I’m really sorry,” you told her. “I… I wish it were different.”

“Me too.” She shrugged it off glibly. “But that’s the business, filthy pirates that we are.”

You nodded. Everybody had warned you about that, ever since the beginning. You weren’t cut out to be a pirate. Physically, mentally, you couldn’t handle it.

Crina did first on the day you showed up to Buggy’s hideout, and then Cabaji tried on your first day on the ship. You shut down any thoughts of Crina before they could develop. After last night, you weren’t sure you could handle even thinking of the woman. But thinking of Cabaji made your stomach turn for other, though no less unpleasant, reasons.

“May I ask you something?”

“What is it?” Pippa asked.

“It’s not… I mean, it’s stupid.”

“Is it more boy trouble?”

“Kind of.”

“If he wants anal, just make sure to use lots and lots of lube. And, no, spit is not lube.”

Your head snapped towards her, your mouth agape in genuine shock. Pippa kept a straight face for a second, but burst out laughing at your expression.

“What are you even… Why would he…or-or… I…”

“Calm down, I’m just messing with you.”

“Do you… Is that something he might… Do you do that?”

Pippa shrugged. “If he wants to stick it in my ass, he better be ready to get something in his.” That made you laugh, more out of scandalized surprise than because it was funny, although it was a little funny. She laughed too before shaking her head, waving a hand as if to dispel your shock. “Okay, okay, I’m done. What’s your question?”

You collected yourself enough to focus back on the topic at hand. “It’s… it’s about, I mean, do you know Mr. Cabaji very well?”

“Not well,” Pippa said. Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“It’s nothing weird!” you said quickly, defensively. “I, um… I thought he and I were… He helped me a lot when I first joined the crew, so I thought we were… I don’t know. Friends? But last night he was very…” It hurt to think about that awkward conversation in the rain. “I don’t know what I did.”

“Oh, I see,” Pippa said, nodding slowly. “If I had to guess, you didn’t do anything. Think about it. Cabaji might be a cold fish, but he’s handsome and talented. If somebody sees the two of you together, it’d be easy to assume the worst.”

“But I would… I would never, ever… I mean, he’s handsome, but I don’t feel that way, and Cabaji would never betray Captain Buggy like that.”

Pippa shrugged. “How do you feel when Captain Buggy gets too friendly with other girls?” That made you wince, and Pippa nodded, her point made. “Jealousy’s a bitch.”

You couldn’t argue with that out of pocket, but it still didn’t add up. You were, well, you. And Buggy was Buggy. There were reasons people would want him, but none that you could think of for a man like Cabaji to want you.

Sighing, you pushed all of that out of your head. You could deal with those feelings later, when this whole mess was settled.

“That’s it,” Pippa said, pointing at a rather unassuming building up ahead. Other than being much bigger than the houses, even the schoolhouse, it didn’t look like much.

“That’s the aviary?” you asked.

“Yeah. Now let’s see…” She looked around at the various pirates roaming around before focusing on one in particular. “Hey, Pogo!” Pippa shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. “What are you doing?”

Pogo raised her bat. “Captain said finders keepers. ‘Cept for the bird house.”

“Take babydoll with you,” Pippa said, pushing you forward.

You looked nervously at the other woman, hesitant. Your most notable interaction with Pogo had been a grave misunderstanding of what ‘handjob’ meant. She shrugged.

“Fine.” She pointed her bat at you. “But you better keep up, I’m not treating you special.”

“That’s fine!” you said, nodding quickly with a forced smile. “I’ll see you later, Pippa.”

“Be good,” she said dryly.

You hurried to follow Pogo towards what passed for a neighborhood in a place like Saline. A line of metal roofed shanties built with planks and scrap. The entire island had a population of, charitably, a little over a hundred people.

“What are we doing?” you asked Pogo nervously.

“Firstly, you need a hittin’ stick,” she said, eyeing you up before looking around the trash strewn road. She found whatever she was looking for in a chair that had been tossed onto its side, kicking one of the legs until it splintered off and she could pick it up. “This’ll do.”

“Why do I need it?” you asked, accepting the table leg.

She rolled her eyes. “We’re on the smash and grab. Take what you want, break everything else. Oh, and if you find a straggler, just holler. We’re gettin’ them alive if we can, Captain Buggy wants as big an audience as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said, nodding resolutely despite your nerves. This was pirate stuff. You could do that. You were a pirate, after all.

“Start in there, we’ll work our way down. Gotta go fast before all the nice shit’s gone,” Pogo said. When you didn’t immediately act, she rolled her eyes and stooped down to pick up a loose brick. “Like this,” she instructed, throwing the brick through the front window and shattering it into a mess of broken glass. The sound made you wince.

“Understood,” you said, gripping the table leg in both hands as you approached the open door. With any hope, everybody had already turned themselves in. You didn’t know what you would do if it came to a confrontation. Bracing yourself for anything, you went inside. The house, if you could even call it that, had three rooms. The only door inside was to a bedroom, but something was burning in the kitchen, so you started there.

A pot of unsalvageable porridge sat on the stove, the source of the smell. Most of it had boiled over, dripping down the sides in drying, goopy chunks and onto the floor, the remains congealed into thick, blackened paste in the bottom of the pot. You turned the stove off, opening the window above to let out the foul smelling smoke.

The kitchen itself was a snapshot of people living a very regular, though impoverished, life. Small and sparsely furnished, but not without charm, There were three rickety old chairs. One of them had been repaired with a leg that didn’t match its original wood, another had been tipped onto the floor when the family made a hasty exit. The table, draped with a patched tablecloth, had been set with bowls and spoons that all belonged to different sets. Wilting daisies arranged in a yellowed porcelain vase sat in the middle beside a tin of sugar and a sweating bottle of milk.

There was a fierce, tragic pride in the scrubbed floors and neat table setting. Poor or not, the people living here lived with self respect, holding fast to the etiquette of civilization even when that civilization excluded them. A pang of sharp, painful melancholy struck your chest. There was more love and comfort here than had ever been found in your big, richly furnished house.

You picked one of the wilting daisies out of the vase and tucked it into your hair. There was nothing else you wanted to take, and no place for anyone to hide, so you went into the bedroom. It was much the same as the kitchen. Two beds—one only barely big enough for two people and the other child-sized. The smaller bed had a colorful knitted blanket thrown over the top to distract from the threadbare sheets. Yellowed lace curtains hung in the window, fluttering as the wind caught them. Another array of flowers were on the bed side table, as well as a picture drawn by a child’s clumsy hand depicting a family of three. Mom, dad, and daughter. They were surrounded by hearts and flowers.

Nobody was hiding in here either, there was no place to do so. You took the picture, folding it up and hiding it in your waistband.

From the other room, you heard a huge crash. Rushing out of the bedroom, you saw it was just Pogo kicking over the chairs. The sound was, evidently, from when she knocked the table over.

“What were you doing?” she asked. “Smash and grab.”

“But they… they have a child,” you said, feeling sick at seeing their things destroyed when they already had so little.

“How do you know?” Pogo asked, standing up straight. “Is it in there?”

“No, nobody’s here,” you told her. “It’s just, after we leave, what will they do?”

“Who cares?” Pogo asked.

“Right,” you agreed, nodding. “You’re right.”

A novel could be filled with all the things you couldn’t do, and an entire series of them could easily document the many, many more things you couldn’t do well.

When smashing a single window was enough to make you shake with guilt, you realized that it would be better to tell Pogo you needed to help Captain Buggy and excuse yourself from the mob slowly tearing through Saline village.

Your walk to the tent was spent trying to fight back tears at the swirling whirlpool of guilt in your stomach. You passed by some of the other hostages on your way to the tent, the ones that were too young or weak to perform hard labor. They were chained together and given less strenuous jobs, mending and cooking and painting and decorating. You didn’t linger near them, too afraid that if you looked long enough you would find the child whose drawing you had taken.

More than anything, you couldn’t get over the sense of profound wrongness in trashing other people’s lives and stealing their things. It made sense to recruit them for free labor, you could even understand petty street theft, but this was different. Intimate. You kept thinking of the mismatched dishes that had been so meticulously cleaned and set out for breakfast. Anyone could agree that maintaining a set of fine dishes was the only proper thing to do, but to have such reverence for what many people would consider to be cheap spoke of a fundamental respect for the few things they did have. They didn’t even have that anymore.

But the conflict came in two parts—the disgust you had for the action itself, and the loathing you had for how weak you were to balk at performing such an easy task.

Everybody knew that pirates raided and stole and destroyed. That was what you signed up for. As a pirate, you were meant to look out only for Captain Buggy, yourself, and your crew. In that order. A random family shouldn’t have mattered.

You found a dark spot in the corner of the tent, sitting on the dusty ground to observe the rehearsal. It seemed like they were practicing acts while setting things up. Rather, the pirates practiced while intimidating the locals into doing the labor.

“Can you count?” You heard Buggy shout from the stage, berating one of the performers. “No, I’m asking if you can. One, two, three, four. You know what those are? Numbers. Come on, count ‘em with me. One, two-”

You tuned that out and, biting your lip, pulled the drawing out of your waistband. Mom, dad, and daughter depicted as potato people in crayon scribbles. The little girl had drawn herself with twintails and a big smile, her stick arms connected to the stick arms of her parents.

What would that little girl think of you, the person who saw fit to destroy her home for no other reason than because it was the one she was directed to?

A third conflict lurked in that question, the insidious one you tried very hard to ignore. You yourself were in conflict. You looked at the picture and thought that the little girl was a far more relatable figure than the person you saw in the mirror, you knew very well what she would think of you. That little girl would look at you with pained eyes and a wobbling lip. She wouldn’t understand why you had done what you did. She would probably hate you, that was more than deserved.

You understood her very well.

“Hey, babydoll!” Buggy called. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t wake up to the fact that he was talking to you until Buggy called again, louder. You blinked, startled as you looked up at him. How long had he known you were there? “Come over here. We’ve got shit to go over for your act.”

You sniffled, wiping your eye to try and hide the fact that you had been crying. Slowly, you did as you were told, standing up and tucking the picture back into your waistband. Trying to shake off your miserable feelings and put on a brave face, you walked to the edge of the stage.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” Buggy said, inviting you forward.

It wasn’t shyness that made you stop on the very edge, it was that you were tired, and sensitive, and you knew he would be able to tell you were crying when the lights hit your face, and you couldn’t put on an act. You couldn’t possibly perform. You couldn’t do much of anything at all.

“Captain Buggy,” you said. “I don’t think I can-”

“No, no, no. First of all,” he said, waving his hand as he approached you, “dolls don’t talk. They smile or pout, your choice.” You frowned at him, your chest clenching at his dismissive tone. “Pout, that’s good. Second of all, dolls do what they’re told.”

You took a few halting steps onto the stage, squinting in the light.

“Okay, well the walk’s right. But keep your head up. Dolls don’t slouch.”

“Captain Buggy,” you said, scrambling internally to find a way to express yourself to him in a way he might accept.

“Hey,” Buggy said irritably, reaching out to tug on one of your twintails to force you towards him. You yelped, grabbing his hand. “What’s with the attitude?”

“I don’t have…” You grimaced, shaking your head. “It’s nothing, Captain Buggy.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Buggy told you, exchanging your hair to grab your chin instead. “Were you… crying?”

“It’s…” you said, shaking your head. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

Buggy thought about that for a second before releasing your chin and grabbing your shoulder with a painfully tight grip, smiling that rictus grin that meant danger.

“Ah, babydoll.” He gave you a light little shake. “Sometimes I wonder what I’m going to do with you. This whole routine where you keep secrets and I have to force them out of you and then you get all mopey about it is real fuckin’ stale. Is it Crina? Cabaji?” His eyes narrowed further. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”

“No! Nothing like that,” you told him. “It’s just… I don’t know how to… Explain.”

“Hows about you try anyway?”

“I…” You swallowed hard, your face scrunching up in discomfort. There was no way out of this except for muddling your way through some explanation. Stupid. It was your own fault for not just sucking it up in the first place. “I’m… I don’t… feel like…” you explained haltingly. “Like… me, I guess? I don’t… I don’t understand why I do the things I do, or the way I feel. It’s like there’s somebody else. Then I get these… these flashes of… I can’t take it. I don’t know how to make it stop hurting so-so much.” You shook your head. “I know that makes no sense, it-it's stupid.”

Buggy didn’t say anything, and you couldn’t bear to look at him as you waited for him to laugh, or to get angry, or to brush you off.

“No. Actually, I get it,” Buggy told you, his tone softening a bit. He released the tight grip on your shoulder to pat it instead. "You’re still holding onto the pathetic life you begged me to save you from.”

“What?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing. “No, I’m not. I promise I’m not, Captain Buggy. ”

“Yeah, you are. Even though I’ve shared with you the splendor of a truly free, happy life, you haven’t fully accepted it. This doubt, this guilt, is eating you alive because you’re still thinking like the rest of those small-minded nobodies who tried to break you down. The pain you feel right now will only go away when you give up who you were before. That’s not you. You,” he poked your chest, “are my babydoll. You’re a pirate. And you know what else? You're special. You belong to Captain Buggy. So if you just listen to me, if you just trust me, you won’t have to second guess yourself, or doubt what you’re doing. When you let go of everything that isn’t, well... me, you’ll feel much better.”

He finished the speech with a big smile. A smile you wanted to embrace, to believe with your whole heart. So why couldn’t you? Everything he said made sense, everything he said sounded wonderful, but it didn’t stop the pain in your chest.

“I don’t know what to do to… I’m trying,” you said, talking softly to keep your voice from breaking. “But it still… I’m still… I don’t know.”

In an instant, the smile fell. Buggy grit his teeth, taking a step back. When he raised his fist, you thought for a second that he was going to hit you, but instead he just turned away, shaking his fist as if to work out some of the frustration. When he faced you again, you could see the emotions on his face as they bled into one another, the various forms of irritation and anger before, eventually, he exhaled a huge breath and fixed that huge, tight smile back into place.

“No, this is good. We can use this. What you’ve got now is a case of growing pains. That means we’re making progress. You don’t feel like you? That’s because you’re not you, not yet. You’re still a doll, still thinking and feeling all the things daddy put into that empty head of yours.” He nodded, his smile became more natural as he faced the edge of the stage. “I need a volunteer!” he called. “Anyone will do. Anyone at all!”

You squinted past the bright lights, watching a scuffle as one of the pirates pushed an older man, one of the locals, forward onto the stage.

“Step right up, don’t be shy,” Buggy said, walking in an arc to pick something up off of one of the tables strewn with props and decorations. The man’s feet were cuffed together, and it was a near thing that he didn’t fall over. “Come on, old man. She doesn’t bite.”

Buggy came up behind you to push you towards the ‘volunteer’. He brushed one of your twintails behind your shoulder, smoothing it back, before he held out a gun. “Shoot him.”

Your head whipped around to look over your shoulder at him with a wide eye, your heart dropping hard into your stomach.

“Come on, it’s easy,” Buggy insisted, forcing the gun into your hand, “you just point the shooty end at him, put your finger on the trigger, and pull it.”

“Please,” the man begged. “Don’t do this, please.”

“Captain Buggy…” you whispered, unable to talk any louder. “Why?”

“I-I don’t deserve this,” the man said, his hands clasped together.

“No, no, no, babydoll,” Buggy scolded you, his irritation spilling over. “What did I say? Dolls don’t talk. And you don’t ask me why. It doesn’t matter why. If you trusted me, if you really trusted me, if you honestly want to feel better, you wouldn’t ask me why.”

You looked at the man begging for his life. He was older, but he could reasonably have been the dad in the picture you’d stolen. He could have a family that loved him, a life he enjoyed despite the pitiful circumstances of Saline.

You couldn’t think about that. It didn’t matter who he was. You had already done worse. If you didn’t listen to Captain Buggy, if you weren’t good for him, he would get rid of you. If you were going to disappoint him, you were better off turning the gun on yourself.

It was you or the old man. That was the choice Buggy wanted you to make, the choice he’d been asking you to make over and over from that very first day he hired you on the crew, the one you didn’t even see as a choice.

Because it wasn’t, not really.

Aiming the gun at the man, you breathed in, and out. You had to use both hands to steady your shaking. You focused, ignoring everything else in the world, and pulled the trigger. The shot cracked through the small space, stunning you for a moment. It seemed like everybody screamed, the sound ringing even as the initial shot settled.

You opened your eye—when had you closed it?—to watch the man straighten out, feeling at his chest to check that he was alive. No bullet, no blood. You looked at the gun. The only thing that came out of it was sweet, brightly colored smoke and confetti.

“Aw, honey buns, you really were gonna shoot him,” Buggy said, laughing as he threw an arm around your shoulders. “You really had me worried for a second.”

You looked up at Buggy, confused, a hollowed out sick feeling in your stomach. “It’s… not real?”

“Did you really think I was gonna give you a loaded gun?” he asked, taking the fake gun out of your hand. “You’ve only got one eye, you could seriously hurt someone.”

“Then why would you-”

“Lights,” Buggy suddenly shouted, pulling away from you to shout at the people operating the lighting from above. The metallic squeak of the spotlight being shifted back towards Buggy hit him with a harsh beam, illuminating his sudden anger. “Are you blind? Drunk? As long as I’m on stage, the spotlight stays on me.” Buggy scowled, looking at you. “Sorry, babydoll, I’ve got work to do. Your act is gonna go fine, as long as you remember to do everything just the way I said.”

Smoke drifted up into the darkening night sky as the Buggy Pirates settled around various campfires for supper, unwinding in the traditional pirate fashion after a very eventful day. That meant lots of eating, a bit of drinking, and a chorus of loud conversation and singing.

After such an exhausting day, you didn’t even have to be prompted to eat every bite of your meal. It was just stew, but since the pirates had looted the town’s foodstores, it was good stew. Fresh meat and vegetables with soft bread.

Some people sat on logs or chairs they’d taken from nearby homes. You and Buggy sat on a blanket spread across the grass. He leaned with his back against a tree and you sat criss-cross, inching closer and closer to the fire as the night got cooler.

Everyone seemed to be in high enough spirits, even Buggy. That was good. You wished you felt some of that, but the day had left you sapped of any and all enthusiasm. It didn’t matter how you felt anyway. The world, as always, was perfectly capable of sustaining itself without your involvement. So you watched the flames dance and let the sounds of the night wash over you and waited until it was time to go to bed.

“What’s that?” Buggy asked, nudging you to catch your attention.

You looked where he was pointing, realizing that the little girl’s drawing had fallen out of your waistband. He picked it up before you could grab it, unfolding it to look.

“No, Captain Buggy, that’s-” you said, reaching out to take it back. He gave you a sharp look when you tried to take it out of his hands directly, so you backed off.

“Oh, wow. This is…” he said, staring at the picture. “It’s rough, I gotta say. But you always have room to grow. You know, improve your skills. And if you squint, it kinda…” He burst out laughing, unable to maintain a straight face any longer. “No, seriously, what is this? Is that you in the middle? Who's this lump supposed to be?”

“It’s not my drawing,” you said. “I found it.”

“Why? Are you hoping to get the artist’s autograph?”

“No, I just… I don’t know,” you said, shaking your head. “It’s silly.”

“Hey, Captain Buggy, has she told you about her pillaging adventures yet?” Pogo called. “Only one house in and she gets all weepy worrying about the family that lives there.”

Buggy gave you a derisive look. “Is that true?”

You nodded.

He looked at the drawing again before flicking it into the fire, scooting closer to you to throw his arm around your shoulders.

“Babydoll, we’re doing the people who live here a favor,” he said as the paper curled up and disappeared in the flames. “A kid’s shitty drawing isn’t worth worrying about. What we’re creating here is special. Yeah, there’s gonna be some collateral damage, but it’s necessary. Sacrifice is the lifeblood of truly great art. One day, the people here will agree with me. They’re gonna go back to their boring lives and think every day about the time they got to take part in my show, how much they miss it. See, I’m giving them what they actually want, what they need. Nobody wants to be happy—it’s not like they’re happy living in a dump like this anyway. What people truly want is to be entertained. You know that better than anyone.”

You nodded, hanging your head. “I guess.”

Buggy sighed, rolling his eyes. “I’m gonna go get us something to drink. It’s cute, but you’re so much more fun when you’re not all mopey and pathetic.”

He released you to stand up. You drew your knees up to your chest and stared at the fire. Nothing remained of the girl’s drawing, the fire had eaten it up whole. That was for the best, Buggy was right. You didn’t need to worry about things like that, it was better if you didn’t.

Buggy came back soon, holding a bottle and a glass filled with red liquid.

“It might be a little strong for you,” he said, offering you the shot, “but I promise it’ll help. You just gotta toss it all back in one go.”

You accepted it with a wary look. “Okay.”

“Alright,” Buggy said. “Ready? Three, two—”

You threw the drink back fast, like he said. As soon as the first drop of the liquid hit your throat, you regretted it, sputtering and coughing against the horrible bite of bitterness and alcohol. It wouldn’t matter how much of something sweet you put into a drink that caustic, it couldn’t hide the taste. You did manage to keep it down, however badly your body wanted to reject it.

Buggy laughed at your reaction. “Hey, that went better than last time. You’ll be a real pirate in no time.”

You nodded, your eye and nose streaming before you wiped your face. Awful. Truly awful. “What was that?” you asked him.

“Captain Buggy’s cure all,” he said, returning to an animated conversation with some of the pirates who had stuck around the fire. You listened with half an ear to the story about the time he saved a village from another drug-peddling criminal and how grateful they were to their hero, Buggy the Clown. He humbly rejected their praise and gifts, of course, taking only half of everything they had.

You didn’t really think about how you felt at all until it slammed into you all at once.

Warm. Lightheaded like being drunk, but not quite. You didn’t feel the same unsteady world-spinning dizziness like when you drank alcohol. Besides, such a tiny amount wouldn’t have been enough to get drunk. This was something else, you thought, but you weren’t sure what. Hot, mostly. You wanted to take off your clothes, which were suddenly far too heavy and tight.

You breathed out hard through your nostrils, looking around at the other pirates. Most of them had drifted away or around, off doing their own thing. Nobody was paying you any attention.

There was a disquieting sensation of disconnect, of unreality. Like you were aware of the people and the fire and everything else, but for some reason you couldn’t believe that it was real. It all made perfect sense, but it also didn’t.

“Captain Buggy, can we go?” you asked, tugging on his sleeve. You needed to get inside before gravity shifted and you fell into the sky, which suddenly seemed like a very likely possibility.

“Not yet, I’m telling a story,” he said, waving you off. “After I did that, they were so grateful that I got rid of those idiots that they asked me to lead them. Flattering, but-”

You huffed, scooting closer to him as you waited for his story to finish. It ended in laughter, which you belatedly joined in on.

“Captain Buggy,” you said again when that died out. “I… I feel… Can we go, please?”

He rolled his eyes. “Come here, ya lush.” Buggy adjusted himself so you could sit on his lap, your thighs astride his. The position was awfully intimate considering the circumstances, but he pulled your head down to his shoulder and maybe it was alright.

From the deepest depths of your brain emerged a memory. Buggy told you, “It’s not like there’s anything wrong with sitting together. I bet you sat on your dad’s lap all the time.”

It was fine.

Until he moved his leg, his thigh inadvertently grinding right between your legs. You tensed up, clutching at the front of his coat. Although lust hadn’t been much of a preoccupation before, it jumped up to the very forefront of your mind as soon as you felt that bit of stimulation, like your body had been waiting for it.

Buggy smelled so good too. Or, he smelled like he always did. But that was good. Familiar and distinct and him. You buried your face against his neck, nosing past the scarf to reach his skin. The warmth and solid feeling of his body beneath yours had you melting against him. He would keep you from falling into the sky.

He moved his leg again and you gasped hard, tensing up. For a second, you had been distracted by his scent enough to forget the frenzied buzz of need between your legs, but the pressure stoked it to a blaze once again. You had to bite your lip to keep from reacting, pressing your face even closer to his chest. He didn’t react. Maybe he didn’t notice. Maybe he wasn’t as horribly, incredibly, dangerously hyper-aware of the heat burning between your legs as you were.

As surreptitiously as possible, you rolled your hips forward, trying to be as unobtrusive as you could, hoping very much that he was too distracted to notice.

Buggy’s body went rigid. And then he laughed.

“Are you in heat or something?” he asked, soft enough so only you could hear him.

“No, I… I’m just…” You wanted to kiss him. And touch him. There were people nearby, but that mattered less and less as the seconds ticked on and the only thing you could think of was how hot you were, the electric pulse underneath your skin.

Holding your head up, he purposefully drew his leg up to grind it directly between your thighs. Your fingers grasped helplessly at the front of his coat, your teeth close to breaking the skin of your lip with how hard you were fighting your body’s natural reaction to moan or whimper. Buggy watched you with an open mouthed smile, his eyes dancing in the firelight.

“Captain Buggy, please,” you whispered, unable to keep your hips from helplessly rolling against his thigh.

“Okay, fine,” he said, grinning. “But I gotta wipe your fuckin’ snail trail off my pants before I stand up.”

“Don’t say that,” you told him, although there was no bite behind the words.

Buggy laughed again and pushed you off of his lap to stand up. He went first before helping—practically scooping—you off the ground.

“I gotta get this one tucked in before it gets too late,” he announced. “She gets all cranky if I skip the bedtime story. Say goodnight, babydoll.”

You laughed in an attempt to hide your embarrassment, waving to the group of unimpressed pirates. And then Buggy was dragging you away, supporting most of your weight.

“Captain Buggy, why did you say that?” you asked when you were an appropriate distance away.

“I thought that if I made it seem like you were tired, they wouldn’t immediately guess that you were humping my leg out there in front of everybody like the little freak you are.”

You nearly tripped, making a very sharp sound of indignance. Buggy cackled, keeping you from falling. It wasn’t a long walk to the mayor’s house, but it still felt like a million miles of stumbling, swerving, rushing through the dark until you were safely enclosed behind the door. There weren’t any lights on, but Buggy didn’t hesitate as he dragged you to the bedroom.

In the quiet house, the sensation of being utterly untethered and confused became even more noticeable. But it wasn’t incoherent confusion, you were capable of acknowledging the wrongness of the thought process, just that you couldn’t unthink it. “I think… the… what I drank,” you got out in stammered bursts, trying to understand why you felt the way you did. “I think it was… like, um… did you, um…”

“It’s like I said, babydoll, just a little something to make you relax,” Buggy told you. “And wouldja look at that! You’re relaxed and happy and I’m having a great time.”

That wasn’t really funny, but you laughed anyway.

He left you standing in the middle of the bedroom to go to the trunk you had brought in earlier. The big windows let in enough diffused light that you could see him, but not too much to ruin the veil of darkness. You giggled to yourself, looking up at the moon high in the sky. It was a little more than half full, but very bright.

Buggy dug through the trunk, emerging with what looked like a decently long length of looped rope. You didn’t remember packing that.

“What’s that for?” you asked, your words slurring despite how perfectly controlled they felt when you spoke them. You swayed back and forth when you tried to walk towards him. Realistically, you knew you were not on a ship, but you could almost feel the way the ocean rocked beneath you. Or maybe the world was just that unsteady.

“What, rope?” Buggy asked, incredulous that you would ask. “You can use it for all sortsa things. A good pirate never goes anywhere without it. How else are you s’posed to secure your treasure?”

You giggled. There was enough awareness in your brain that you knew you sounded stupid and vapid, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “That’s it?” you asked.

“There are other things you can use it for too,” Buggy allowed, tossing it on the bed and shrugging off his coat. “I could show you, if you want.”

“Uhm…” You smiled shyly, taking an uncoordinated step back. “Okay.”

“You mean it?” Buggy asked, smirking in a way that made you think he was making fun of you.

“I do!”

“Alright, but remember that you asked for it,” Buggy said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Take off your clothes.”

“Okay… but don’t look,” you said very seriously, pointing at him. Buggy raised his eyebrows in disbelief, unraveling your attempt at being serious into another fit of giggles.

He rolled his eyes at your antics, shaking his head. “You are so lucky you’re hot.”

You smiled, heat rolling through you at the praise. “Captain Buggy, can I kiss you?”

“I thought you were gonna get undressed,” he said, taking off his boots.

“Oh yeah!” you exclaimed, your hands jumping up to the bow tied around your neck to undo it. “Then, um, after?”

“One thing at a time, babydoll,” he said.

You huffed, letting the tie drop, pulling your sweater off. Your fingers stumbled along the line of buttons to get your shirt off, clumsy and heavy.

It was only when your shirt was off that you remembered not putting on a bra that morning, and your reasoning for the lapse. The sensation of cold air hitting your nipples and making them stiff was painful, aggravating the bite marks from yesterday. You winced, undoing the ties at the side of your skirt so it could fall too. Stepping out of your boots took some coordination, you leaned against the side of the chair to get them and your socks off.

“That’s enough. Get over here,” Buggy said, impatiently motioning you towards him.

You stumbled over, shivering in the open air and swaying drunkenly on your feet. He caught you by the hips, steadying you there.

“‘M dizzy,” you mumbled.

He ignored that, staring unabashedly at your tits. “Sheesh, I really did a number on you yesterday, didn’t I? Looks like it hurts,” he said, reaching up to trace the bruise his teeth had left around your nipple.

You shivered, covering your chest. “Don’t,” you said, although you were too bubbly inside to fight down your smile so it probably didn’t sound very genuine.

“Aw, are you embawassed,” he asked, squishing your cheeks to match the baby voice he was using.

“Stop,” you complained, batting his hand away.

He laughed, but let it go a second later to focus on the rope. It wasn’t very bright in the room, but there was enough light for you to know that he was so pretty. It was adorable how round his nose made his profile, deceptively cute. And the way his face scrunched up when he was focusing on something was also very cute.

“Turn around,” he said, looking up at you.

“Why?” you asked.

“Because I told you to.”

You nodded, relenting to the irrefutable logic, and turned around.

“The way you were humping my leg earlier gave me an idea,” he said as he grabbed your arms to pull them behind your back, quickly securing your wrists in rope cuffs.

“I wasn’t… doing that,” you said, squirming nervously.

“I knew a girl who was really into this shit, the ropes and chains and everything. She was a fun ride, sure, but god did it get repetitive. Didn’t help that she was a total nutcase.”

He paused, grabbing more rope. You watched over your shoulder, curious. And nervous.

“You know what a chastity belt is, sweetheart?” he asked, wrapping the doubled up length of rope around your waist and threading it through itself to wrap around again. He reached his arms around you to knot it at your belly button. He let the rest fall as if measuring it against you before tying a few knots.

“It’s, um, to keep you from being able to, um…”

“Well this is an unchastity belt,” he said, pulling the long tail of rope between your legs until it was firmly wedged between your folds, the knots he’d tied pressing against your clit through your silky panties. You yelped, your body jerking forward. “And that’s why you tie the hands first,” Buggy said, laughing as he secured the rope with a looped knot against your lower back. You didn’t fight him when he turned you back around to face him. This time, you couldn’t cover your chest at all, bare and vulnerable to his eyes.

“Captain,” you whined. “It’s… I…”

“They call those the happy knots,” he said, tapping the knot pressed against your clit. “Pretty fitting, doncha think?”

You squirmed, and then hissed at the way it caused you to grind against the knot, which made you squirm even more, which—

“What’s wrong, babydoll?” Buggy asked oh-so innocently, rubbing his hands down your waist and over your hips, across your thighs.

“I-I want…” you frowned, overwhelmed by the feeling of need and the abrasive fear of complete helplessness. “Please, Captain Buggy, I really want to… It’s…”

“If you want something, spit it out.” He curled two fingers beneath the rope between your legs, pulling it taut. You gasped, your entire body tensing up hard at the unyielding pressure against your clit. “Use your big girl words.”

“I wanna come,” you said breathlessly. “Please.”

“Only if you’re a good girl,” he told you, letting go of the rope to tap your nose playfully.

Your face scrunched up in displeasure, your eyebrows furrowing. “That’s not fair.”

“I could always tell you no. What would you do then? It’s not like you can take care of the problem yourself.”

“No,” you said faintly, horrified.

“That’s what I thought. Get on your knees, babydoll.”

“But it… It’ll hurt if I do,” you said.

Buggy rolled his eyes, but grabbed your waist to help lower you onto your knees. You weren’t exactly stable, listing heavily to the side. Buggy caught you, pulling you upright. The knots between your legs rubbed hard against your clit every time you moved. It wasn’t going to be enough but the teasing friction scattered your thoughts.

“This is kind of a… thought experiment. Usually you choke when I push your head too far,” Buggy said, unzipping his pants and shoving them out of the way along with his underwear, “but maybe it’ll be different when you’re all loose and stupid like this. You know, no thoughts to get in the way.”

“I don’t know if I…” your words trailed off, you were too focused on the sight of him fisting his cock, the head bobbing right in front of your face.

“I’m the one who’s gonna have to do all the work. All you have to do is open your mouth.”

Looking up at him, you licked your lips once before parting them.

“More,” he said, stroking himself more intently, the head of his cock brushing your lips. “Nice’n wide, kiddo.”

Squeezing your eye shut, you let your jaw drop open so he could push his cock into your mouth. You twitched, your arms straining against the ropes before remembering that struggling only caused the knots to grind against your clit.

“Just like that,” Buggy muttered softly, his voice encouraging you. This part, at least, was familiar enough. You closed your lips around him, sucking as he casually thrust his hips, his dick pressing against the inside of your cheek. Buggy hissed in relief when your tongue pushed up.

You could feel him harden even more, his dick insistently pressing into your mouth, demanding space. Men’s bodies, you thought, were very, very weird.

Buggy didn’t push you too much at first, his hand working the base of his cock while you bobbed back and forth along the rest. He was right, it was better now that you were so relaxed. Your body felt fluid, it was so much easier to just go along with the pace he wanted to set. More than that, you wanted to be good for him. You needed to make him feel as good as you did.

The first time Buggy pushed a little too deep, you choked. You couldn’t help it. When you choked, your body jerked, and when your body jerked, the knots rubbed against your clit, and that made you whimper. Every little reaction fed into another, and you couldn’t sort it all out when your brain was jelly.

“Hey, shh, was that too rough?” Buggy asked sweetly, pulling his cock out of your mouth so you could get in a full breath. You happily gulped down lungfuls of air, surprised at how desperate your body had been to breathe. He petted your hair with one hand, the other stroking his cock in front of your face. It glistened and dripped with your saliva. “You’re being so good for me, babydoll, I know you can do it.”

You shivered, whimpering at the pressure of the knots. Buggy never spoke that gently. The mere idea of disappointing him now, when he was being so sweet, sent a hot strike of guilt through your stomach. You had to do this for him, you had to.

So, rather than answer, you raised your chin and looked up at him, opening your mouth wide with your tongue hanging out. It felt icky, especially since you couldn’t wipe all of the dripping saliva off of your chin, but it seemed like the best choice because Buggy’s expression went lax, his throat working as he swallowed hard. He regained a bit of composure a moment later, managing a smile and hoarse laugh.

“How do you look so innocent while staring at me like that?” Buggy asked, pushing his cock into your mouth. This time, he didn’t thrust his hips, taking a twintail in either hand to pull your head down. “You’ve gotta be the sluttiest ingénue in the biz. You’re so lucky you’re with me and not some creep who’d take advantage of you.”

You weren’t really listening to him, too busy sucking as he bobbed you up and down. The loud slurping sucking sounds were gross, but compared to the little noises Buggy couldn’t contain, they were nothing. You sucked harder, using your tongue as much as you were able, desperate to hear more.

“Fuck, babydoll,” Buggy groaned, pulling harder on your hair. You moaned around his cock, your hips purposefully grinding into the happy knots, glad for even the teasing pressure.

The more he pulled you down, the less you were able to care about anything other than the sounds of Buggy’s pleasure and the sparking heat drawing up tight in your core. Just like yesterday, the lack of air created a loop of your body convulsing with the need to breathe and the overwhelming rush of pleasure whenever you could get a breath. And then you writhed, causing the knots to rub into your clit, and he fucked the air right out of you, and then you couldn’t think, the lack of oxygen making your drug fogged brain that much more confused, and your body that much more pliant.

So you just let it happen, your throat relaxing so Buggy could push his cock so deep into your throat that your nose met the curls at the base. Right past your gag reflex, far beyond reasonable. He used your twintails like handlebars to pull you off with a flood of saliva spilling around the seams of your lips, dragging you up and down his cock like a toy.

It was rough and mean and he was out and out using you like somebody would use an object. The only thing you could do was endure it. For him. You could. You did. You wanted to.

He dragged you all the way down, his cock lodged in your throat. You jerked and choked a little, but your brain and body weren’t working well enough to properly panic. Buggy moaned loudly, grinding his cock into the back of your throat.

“Look at you,” Buggy said. “So fuckin’ perfect, babydoll. God, you’re-” He groaned, letting you pull off to get a breath. The sudden influx of oxygen set your body on fire, your hips anxiously jerking to get some relief from the knots. Buggy didn’t push as deep as he picked up the pace, focusing more on faster strokes. You could practically feel him getting closer, and you did everything you could to help, sucking and licking and desperately trying to urge him over the edge.

His body lurched forward, his cock jumping your mouth, and Buggy swore loudly. You felt the first spurt of cum coat your throat, and then your tongue as he pulled his dick out of your mouth, finishing himself off with his fist so he could cum on your chest too. You pulled a face at the flavor, swallowing over and over to make it go away. That hurt a little bit, your throat sore from his rough treatment.

Finished, Buggy’s posture went limp and he laughed breathlessly, patting your head. Saliva and cum dripped from your chin onto your sweat-slicked chest and down to the floor. Your arms jerked to try and wipe it off, but they were still tied up. The movement did, however, effectively remind you of the knots against your clit. You whimpered, trying not to struggle too much.

“Was that good enough?” you asked Buggy hopefully, desperate for relief.

“That was fantastic, babydoll. Who’d’ve thought my little virgin would learn how to deepthroat with the best of ‘em, hm?” He laughed to himself, pushing his pants and underwear all the way off before standing up.

“Captain Buggy?” you asked, distressed as he walked away, tugging off his shirt and tossing it aside. You couldn’t do anything other than watch as he went into the bathroom. You heard running water and then he came out holding a cup. The gritty sandpaper of your cum-coated tongue was suddenly the most uncomfortable thing in the entire world, and you focused entirely on the water as he brought it to you.

“Yeah, atta girl,” he encouraged as he put the cup to your lips, pouring it into your mouth. You happily gulped down the entire thing, not caring about the soreness of your throat or jaw.

“Thank you, Captain Buggy,” you said when you were done, looking up at him with an acute pang of adoration. He always took care of you. You loved him so much.

“You’re gonna need it for act two,” he teased before grabbing you up off the floor, turning you around so you could fall onto the bed.

Your head swayed, impossibly dizzy, the world moving so disorientingly fast that you were only barely aware of him cutting the rope between your legs. As soon as it was out of the way, he dragged your panties down, pushing your legs apart to look at your exposed pussy. With your hands still firmly bound behind your back, there was nothing you could do to hide yourself, simply whining at the humiliating exposure.

“I gotta know,” he said, licking his lips. “When it gets all red and puffy like that, does it hurt?”

You blinked at him, not understanding the question. Buggy rubbed his thumb against your clit and you convulsed, practically mewling in response to the slightest bit of direct stimulation.

“Guess not,” he said, pushing you further up the bed so he could settle between your open legs. You tossed back and forth as you shook your head, pulling desperately to free your arms.

“Captain, please, I really…” You just wanted to come. It was the only thing that mattered. Not your need for pleasure, but for release.

“Yeah?” he taunted you, easily thrusting two fingers into your dripping pussy. When they curled, your back arched in a painfully taut curve, your thighs trembling. “Do you hear that?” Buggy asked, thrusting his fingers into you as loudly as possible. You pressed your face to the side in an attempt to hide. He laughed. “If you really hate this as much as you pretend you do, why are you squeezing me so tight, huh?”

“Stop,” you begged. “Please, jus’-”

He added a third finger and your words broke off with a helpless cry. Buggy didn’t slam them into you the way you wanted, thrusting and curling and teasing without any actual intention to let you come. You sobbed, your hips trying to meet his hand halfway, to get more. You just wanted to come. Couldn’t he feel it? Couldn’t he tell how desperate you were?

Squinting up through a teary eye, you saw the manic glee in his round eyes as he watched the way you twitched and writhed with each little movement of his fingers. Noticing you were watching him, Buggy smiled at you, his other hand dropping between your legs to tease over your clit.

You wailed, digging your heels into the bed and arching against him, but he didn’t stop, and he didn’t give you more. His fingers continued to thrust and curl aimlessly, his other hand brushing over your clit without any pressure.

“Buggy, please,” you begged, writhing desperately against the ropes keeping your arms bound. “I can’t take this, I really, really, really need—”

“From my perspective, sweetheart,” Buggy said, pushing his fingers back into you roughly. “It doesn’t seem like you’ve got much of a choice, now does it? All of this whining and struggling and begging doesn’t mean jack shit because all you can do is take what I give you.”

You whimpered and he laughed again.

“Since you were so good for me earlier, I’ll let you come,” he said. “But you gotta ask me real nice.”

“Please, Buggy.”

“I was thinking something more like ‘You’re the best, Buggy, please make me come all over your hand.’ Y’know, really sell it.”

“You are the best, Buggy,” you said, your brain too fried to consider refusing. “Please, please make me come all over your hand, I’ll do anything.”

“Fine, but make it quick so we can get on to act three,” he said, pumping his fingers into you roughly. Hard and fast and with deep strokes. You wailed, your body arching up, your head thrown back in genuine ecstasy.

So close, so close, so close—you were chanting that, or maybe it was his name, or please, and it didn’t matter, nothing mattered except for the pressure building in your core, that coil he was winding and winding and winding.

It snapped hard, broke in two, and pleasure flooded your body, your hips rolling to meet his hand with each wave, your mouth hanging open and silent. Relief was so sweet and potent you couldn’t care about anything else, just chasing more and more as you whimpered and cried and came.

“You’re such a drama queen,” Buggy teased as his hand slowed and stopped, pulling out of you with a slick sound.

You wilted into the bed, looking up at him with a flushed, vacant smile. The room was glowing and warm and good and nothing in the entire world could touch you when you were floating so high.

Making sure he had your attention, Buggy stuck the fingers that were covered in evidence of your pleasure into his mouth, pulling them out with a pop. Even though you had just gotten off, the sight sent a heavy, hot flush right to your core, your pussy tightening around the memory of his fingers. But all you could do about it was giggle stupidly. It took you a moment to remember the reason you couldn’t use your hands was because they were tied behind your back.

“What do we say, babydoll?” Buggy asked, his wet hand dropping to stroke his cock. He was hard again which was great because you didn’t think you had ever been so desperate to feel him inside of you. You squirmed restlessly, forgetting again that your hands were tied.

“I love you,” you said mindlessly.

He laughed. “Close enough.”

Buggy pressed his lips briefly to your thigh, chaining kisses up your body as he crawled up the bed, gathering your legs so that, by the time he was above you, they were loosely wrapped around his waist. He reached down to guide his cock into you, and both of you moaned as he pushed all the way in.

He didn’t hesitate before rolling his hips forward, fucking you deep, like he was claiming every part of you for himself. You wanted to hang onto his shoulders, but you couldn’t. Because your hands were tied. Instead you whined restlessly, curling your hips up to meet each thrust, desperate to take him deeper, to take everything he gave you.

He moaned openly, loudly, slowing for a second. The touch of his detached fingers on your clit drove you wild, your brain shorting out completely. Rather than tell you, or order you, to settle down, Buggy’s thrusts became harder, each one driving you into the bed. It didn’t take more than a few of those for you to tense up, your mouth falling open with a helpless whimper and your pussy fluttering around his cock as you came again.

“Buggy,” you whined. “Buggy, please, I want-” Your shaking legs readjusted, your thighs squeezing his hips. You wanted to feel him come inside of you, to be that much closer to him. He groaned right into your ear.

If you weren’t full to the point of splitting each time he pushed into you, you would have thought you were entirely hollow—empty of self or thought or anything other than the gooey desperate need to come again. The fingers on your clit continued to rub dirty circles and Buggy kept fucking you deeper than you’d have thought possible and you came again, sobbing and giggling and chanting his name like a prayer.

Buggy wasn’t far behind, his entire body rocking against you until his hips stuttered and he pushed as deep as possible, all of his weight on you. His moan was high and choked and helpless and the most sexual thing you had ever heard, it made your pussy clamp down tight around his dick, desperate for more, for him. Both of you were drenched in sweat and saliva and his cum still coated your chest and the way he ground his cock as deep into your pussy as was physically possible while he rode out his orgasm skated the line of pain and it was all disgusting and you reveled in it, steeped completely in the syrupy red medicine of hedonistic bliss.

Buggy recovered before you did and, with a groan, he rolled off of you. The feeling of his dick pulling out made you shudder, and you winced at the emptiness. You had no idea when he had reattached his fingers, but they were all accounted for when he stretched his arms out, linking them together to make the knuckles pop.

You turned your head to the side, nuzzling his sweaty shoulder, pressing a kiss there. He reached over to pat your head affectionately.

“That reminded me of that time when I was with this girl,” Buggy said, his voice low and a little gravely, “she kept yelling ‘Give it to me, give it to me now, I’m so wet!’ and I had to be real firm and tell her no.” You looked up at Buggy with a frown, but he had an innocent, wide-eyed expression. “It didn’t matter how wet she got! It was my umbrella.”

It took a moment for his joke to set in, but then you giggled. A little at first, and then a lot. Buggy smiled too, petting your head again.

When your fit of giggles subsided, he sat up with a huge groan, rolling his shoulders and neck. You watched with a half-lidded eye as he searched the loose sheets for something, finally emerging triumphantly with his knife. He cut the ones around your waist first, pulling the rope free and tossing it off the bed.

“You’re gonna have to sit up,” Buggy said.

“‘m okay,” you told him, fairly certain that you weren’t even capable of sitting up. Your body was heavier than it had ever been, you couldn’t even really care about how messy you were, or thirsty, or the fact that you could feel his cum oozing out of your pussy. It was like those things were happening somewhere else, and you were content in the hot blue dark. Content to look up at Buggy because all you could think was that you loved him. Adored him so absolutely that it was the only thing you could feel, an endless river of affection gushing out your heart.

Buggy blinked slowly, sighing dramatically before sliding an arm under your torso, peeling you off of the sweaty imprint you’d left on the sheets. You whined, your head falling forward onto his shoulder. Buggy had to hold you as he cut the rope cuffs off of your wrists, but as soon as your hands were free, you used them to hold onto him.

“All worn out?” he asked. You nodded, mumbling something not even you understood. “Aw, poor little thing.” It barely registered in your head that he was making fun of you, just that the saccharine sweet tone made you feel warm inside.

“I love you, Captain Buggy.”

He rubbed your back, letting you cling to him despite how sweaty and gross you were. “I know, babydoll.”

The only thing that kept you going through the next day was the fact that it began with taking a bath in the mayor’s huge tub. After you let him dump in the whole bottle of bubbling soap, Buggy even agreed to join you. It resulted in a disastrous mess in the bathroom, sheets soaked with bubbles and water when things escalated into the bedroom, and the two of you showing up late to breakfast, but a bit of property destruction and cold food was a small price to pay for the rare moment of normalcy.

If that Buggy was the man at his softest, at his most loving and fun, then director Buggy was him at his most strict and hardened. He wasn’t bothering with jokes, humor, or theatrics. In some ways, both versions were Buggy at his most human, but this aspect of his humanity was strung out with stress and dangerously sensitive to the slightest bit of provocation to trigger an explosive bout of rage. He stalked around the tent shouting orders and directions, spewing abuse at anybody unfortunate enough to get within range of his critical gaze.

It was easy for you to stay out of his way, at least. Being small meant you could more easily shimmy up and down the ladder to string up lights along the edges of the tent. That gummed up hangover feeling lingered in your head after the previous night’s fun, but you chugged water and powered your way through it. Everyone else was putting in their all, you had no right to do anything less.

Your boots had only just returned to the dusty floor after hanging up the final string when you heard a commotion from the tent’s entrance. You exchanged a nervous glance with Marty, who had been holding the ladder for you. He responded to your curious look with a shrug, looking as confused as you.

The joke went like this: the Surgeon, the Marines, and some mercenaries sailed into a tiny little island village called who cares off the coast of no one that had been commandeered by a crew of circus freak pirates to reclaim the stolen one-eyed midget from the devil-cursed clown that took her. The punchline, which really wasn’t funny at all, came in the form of bad news from an uncharacteristically ruffled-looking Cabaji and his equally disheveled squad. They looked like they’d been in a fight. A bad, losing fight.

A hushed rumble of conversation rippled through the room as everybody turned their attention to the stage where Cabaji approached Buggy, a whispered warning that impressed an understanding that something very bad had happened before it settled into an oppressive hush.

“What happened to you?” Buggy asked after a long, long moment, breaking the silence. “You look like shit.”

“We were attacked,” Cabaji said, his voice careful to not betray too much emotion.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Buggy responded, his voice slow and condescending. “What happened?”

“It was an ambush,” Cabaji said. “Captain Buggy, we’re outnumbered by twenty men. At least.”

“At least?” Buggy asked, his impatient anger slipping through. “How many men does that shithead have?”

“We don’t know, sir.”

“Why the hell not? What happened to the scouts?”

“Dead,” Cabaji said through a tight jaw. “The Surgeon set up a perimeter around the docks and aviary. Attempting to take either is impossible now.”

Buggy shook his head, shrugging dramatically. “Okay? I don’t see the problem. That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

Silence greeted his question, a hush settling down the lineup of men with bowed heads and closed mouths.

“Hello? Anybody?” Buggy asked, looking up and down the line for the unlucky man who was going to tell him something he didn’t want to hear.

“They cut the line,” one of the pirates, Fuse, finally said.

Buggy froze, his head slowly turning towards him. “What was that?”

“They’ve cut the line. I can’t detonate it.”

“You said,” Buggy said slowly, “that they wouldn’t notice it was rigged.”

Fuse shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know how they did, or maybe it’s a fluke.”

“A fluke, huh?” Buggy asked, getting in the man’s face.

He backed off a second later when Fuse didn’t give him any sort of reaction, growling as he began to pace. Nobody moved, or breathed, or did anything other than watch Buggy like he was a wild animal seconds away from breaking out of a cage.

After what felt like hours, he planted his feet with a hard sigh. You couldn’t see his face, only the line of his shoulders as his posture went from tense to open, the man giving way to the performer.

“This is fine,” Buggy said, turning around with a big smile. “There’s no way that moron is gonna upstage me on my special night. The show will go on. Make sure our audience is ready, and be prepared to put on the best performance of your miserable lives.”

Given permission to move again by that order, the crew began talking amongst themselves, movement returning to the tent. You weren’t listening to any of it, your ears were ringing too loudly. Heat burned your face, but your body shivered with a sour chill. You gave Marty some sort of excuse before slipping out of the tent, looking for a place to take a break. You just needed a break for a second, and then you would be fine.

It was going to be fine.

Outnumbered.

Of course Dad wouldn’t allow for half measures.

Losing hadn’t occurred to you until right then. Captain Buggy’s unshakable confidence had an infectious spread, and you wholeheartedly believed that he would do what he said he would.

But maybe not.

Maybe it wasn’t possible.

Maybe the fantasy was only a fantasy, fleeting and silly and childish.

Maybe you were mad after all, and this had always been a delusion.

“There you are,” somebody said, dragging you out of your head. You blinked fast, scrambling up to your feet on instinct. You weren’t entirely sure how long you had been sitting in a little corner amidst the ruins of houses. You intended to make it quick, but the stiffness of your body made you think it had been longer than you intended. As usual.

“Marty,” you said, kicking yourself for getting lost in your own head at a time like this. “Is something… is there… Are we going?”

“No, not yet. Captain Buggy’s cookin’ up his new plan.” He hesitated, frowning at you. “You don’t look so good, girly. Maybe you should take a break. You and the captain were staying in the mayor’s house, right? I could walk you over.”

You opened your mouth to tell him you were fine, but the words didn’t come. Standing up had left your head spinning, the goopy, confused disorientation slowing your thoughts into a sluggish swirl. As if to match the darkening prospects of the Buggy Pirates, the weather was turning fast, the clouds descending as an uncomfortably chilly mist. It made you shiver despite yourself, your mind finally catching up with your body’s discomfort.

“I can go,” you said softly, feeling a little hollow. “Thank you, Marty.”

“‘Course, girly. You sure you don’t need me to go along?”

“No, I’m… it’s okay,” you said, giving him a weak smile. It would be okay.

And even if it wasn’t.

Your trek to the mayor’s house was short and uneventful, passing by in a blur. Even if something did happen, you might not have noticed, disconnected as you were from the world.

The mayor’s house smelled like old wood and musty spices, something akin to patchouli. It was, if nothing else, extremely unique. Last night, you had drunk it in gladly, high on lust and desire. Now the scent triggered a sickening flush of syrupy red shame. Your insides clenched with disgust, your skin crawling in a way that no amount of soap would ever make clean.

In your desperation to push down those feelings, you didn’t think to listen for danger until you were nearly into the bedroom. Somebody was rustling around. You froze, your mind immediately drawing the worst conclusions.

Slowly, very slowly, holding your breath, you snuck towards the door. It was Dad, and he was going to take you back, and he would see your shame, and he would know all of your sins, and he would punish you. You peeked around the frame.

“Crina?” you asked, stunned. She was throwing your things into a bag, her hair swept into a messy braid and her face ashy. Her clothes were covered with grime, a sooty streak across her cheek. She looked like she’d been in a fight. “What are you doing?” You put a hand on your heart to steady its racing beat.

“Is he with you?” she asked, glancing nervously at the doorway and stooping down to get her hand around the handle of a reddish-yellow glass pitcher.

“Who?” you asked, confused.

“Buggy,” she said, as if it should have been obvious.

“No, he’s… I came back so I could…” You didn’t finish that statement, unable to remember what you were doing in the first place. “Where were you?” you asked instead. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I was with the scouts earlier. I saw the Surgeon, and he’s got more men than we thought he did. Things are going to get ugly,” Crina told you, standing up and pulling the drawstring on the bag she’d filled with your clothes. “You and I are going to leave before then.”

“What? Why?” you asked.

“When Captain Buggy realizes he’s out of any other options, he’s going to use you to bargain.”

You couldn’t help it, you laughed. There was no other rational answer. You laughed, and she didn’t. “No,” you told her, your amusement lapsing. “No, there’s no way. He wouldn’t. Captain Buggy said he wouldn’t.”

“I told you about having backup plans,” she said. “Do you really think you were never a part of his? You’re his best bargaining chip.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why would I lie to you?” Crina asked, raising her voice. “He’s got you under his thumb, but I know you’re not that stupid. I have never lied to you. I’m putting everything on the line to help you right now. So come with me. I know a place we can hide to wait this out. Let them do what they will, you don’t need to be involved.”

“I can’t,” you said, shaking your head slowly. “I… Captain Buggy said he wouldn’t. He loves me.”

“No he doesn’t!” Crina said. “He doesn’t love you any more than your dad does. He’s using your love for him, but he doesn’t love you.”

You wanted to argue, to tell her that she was wrong. Buggy loved you, that had to be true, but she said it with so much conviction. You couldn’t argue, the words didn’t come. Instead, you swallowed hard, choking back tears. “Then who does?”

Crina exhaled, approaching you to grab your shoulders. “Please, listen to me. Please, trust me.”

You looked into her dark eyes, shaking your head. “I-I can’t just… I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Please, I-”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Buggy said, ducking around the doorway. Crina released you to take a few steps back. You turned around, startled stiff. He came into the room with slow, measured steps, his hands behind his back.

“Captain Buggy,” you said, clasping a hand over your heart. “What’re you… I don’t… Crina and I were just…”

“Just… What?” Buggy asked. By now, you could see past his casual affect. It had to do with the look in his eyes, the way the smile stopped with his mouth, his eyes hard and empty. “Thought so. You’d think that the lady with a crystal ball would have enough foresight to know this was a bad idea.” He looked up at Crina. “Maybe it’s good you’re leaving, I wouldn’t want a fraud on my crew.”

Crina said nothing.

Buggy pressed his hands together as he approached her, his pointer fingers on his chin like he was thinking. Crina watched him warily. “I had the strangest feeling this might happen. Maybe I should take up fortune telling. I’ll start with yours.” He closed his eyes, putting two fingers to his temple. “I’m getting something… It’s… Oh, oof, this is not pretty. Hey, babydoll, do you remember the punishment for mutiny?”

“That’s not… Crina was just worried about me,” you said quickly, fear swelling up in your chest. “But if you tell her that it’s not true, then… It’s not, is it? You’re not gonna-”

“You know what he did to her, don’t you?” Crina asked him, cutting you off. “I know you like having a little doll who can’t get knocked up, but don’t you ever think about what he must have done to make her like that? You’ll be sending her to a fate worse than death.”

Buggy laughed. “Do you really think I’d let some old man steal away my babydoll? That’s funny. Nobody takes my stuff. Not even you, Crina.”

“Maybe you can fool her, but I know you, Buggy. You’ll do anything to save your own ass. And I don’t blame you, but I won’t let you hand her over to him.”

“The only person you should be concerned about right now is yourself.”

“No, Captain Buggy,” you said, rushing towards him to grab his arm. “No, Crina just… She’s just worried, please. Crina, you know that Captain Buggy won’t let Dad take me back.”

“Of course he will!” she snapped, turning her glare to you.

You shrank back in the fierceness of that look, the sheer conviction of it, whimpering instead of responding.

“Oh look,” Buggy said, “now you’ve upset her.”

“Wake up and see him for the insecure manchild he is,” Crina told you, her voice harder than you’d ever heard it.

“What was that?” Buggy asked, his voice soft, cutting enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Crina didn’t cower away from him, meeting his eyes with her chin up.

“All the bravado and makeup in the world can’t hide the fact that you never grew past your nose.”

In the span of several seconds, you realized what was going to happen. You saw her stoop to pick up the reddish-yellow pitcher by her feet, and you knew Buggy was going to rush her with his knife in hand.

“Stop!” you shouted, jumping between them to knock the jug out of her hands and shield her with your own body. You weren’t sure what you expected—toxic acid, perhaps. It was just water. Sticky, stinky salty water straight from the everlasting watery grave surrounding the rock called Saline. It hit the rug with a heavy thump, splashing onto your feet.

“Seawater, really?” Buggy asked, his voice hard with a heavy, hoarse amused disbelief. The anger and horror had wrapped right back around into the heart of dark comedy. It was funny, wasn’t it? The clown with the devil’s own curse granting him inhuman power defeated by a little splash of water. “Move, babydoll.”

You turned away to plead with him, but he detached his arm to push you out of the way. It caught you in the middle with the force of a lead pipe, knocking all of the air out of your lungs. You went down hard. Down onto the rug, your butt squishing down into the spongy wet pile. Even the cushion didn’t spare you from landing badly on your tailbone, and then your elbows.

Your cry of pain was louder than hers. Crina just grunted like Buggy had punched her very hard, her body curling around his in a strange embrace. One wasn’t enough. Rage came in multiples. Three, and four, and five, and then he stopped. The walls breathed with him, harsh and hard. Buggy jerked his arm and Crina made another noise, something primal, the animal sound of pain, choking and rattling and terrible.

Suffocating on the sour bile in your throat, you pushed yourself upright, but it was too little, too late. Buggy stumbled back, his knife coming out of her abdomen with a sickeningly slick squish. For a moment, Crina managed to stay on her feet, clutching her stomach and taking a step to follow him.

Then she dropped. Onto her knees first, and then face down onto the rug.

Buggy looked like he was going to be sick, his mouth open and eyes round.

“Crina?” you asked, crawling towards her.

“I had to,” Buggy said loudly. “She didn’t give me any other choice.”

“Crina?” You reached out to touch her shoulder, but she didn’t move. “Are you… You’re okay, aren’t you?”

“Babydoll, stop,” Buggy demanded.

“Crina, please, don’t…” You pushed her shoulder to roll her onto her side, and her head lolled, her dark eyes wide open and searching. Blood gushed from her wounds. She pressed her hands there, and blood oozed out between her fingers. Her dry lips gaped and fluttered, but all that came out were little choking, gurgling sounds. “Cr-Crina, you’re bleeding, you have to… We have to do something, we have to…” Pressure on the wound. That’s what Dad said. You pressed your hands on top of hers, trying to stop any more blood from coming out. Make the bleeding stop, and then she would be okay. “It’s okay, Crina, it’s okay,” you told her softly. “You’re okay, right?”

Her eyes looked at you, wet and red and desperate and scared. For once, she looked vulnerable. She couldn’t speak, letting out these terrible grunting, gurgling noises. You shook your head fast, pressing even harder.

“Get up,” Buggy demanded.

“No,” you whispered, begging. “Don’t do this. You… you can’t… you can’t leave me, please? We can… we can all go together, and…”

Her hands went limp, and she looked without seeing, and she stopped making any more of those noises.

“No. No… No no no. Stay, please,” you begged her, your voice getting louder. “Don’t go to sleep, please Crina, please you have to—you have to… Please.” You just kept repeating that, hunching over her and pressing even harder against her wounds. If you could stop the bleeding, if you could keep her with you, then she would be fine, and you could fix all of this.

“Get up!” Buggy shouted, picking you up by the back of your dress and dragging you onto your feet. “Come on, you and I are going for a walk.”

“No!” you yelled, fighting him, thrashing enough to escape his grip to return to her side. Your hands were slick with her blood, but you didn’t care. You tapped on her cheek, leaving behind a bloody smear. “Mommy, please get up! You… Please, you’re really scaring me! Please, please just—just get up!”

“She’s not getting up,” Buggy said, grabbing you around the middle to drag you away from her.

“Shut up!” you shouted shrilly, turning around to hit him. Violently, like an animal, thrashing desperately. “Shut up, shut up, shut up! We have to help her!”

“She’s dead,” Buggy said, grabbing your wrists in a painfully tight hold, his eyes aflame. In the cool iron light, you saw his face, saw the makeup settling into the creases around his eyes and the big red nose and you hated him. You saw the weak, pathetic monster masquerading as a man and a profound wave of disgust washed through you. “You and I have to go now.”

You shook your head, struggling to get free of him. At this point, you were sobbing too hard for your denial to be coherent.

“It’s your fault,” Buggy said. “You’re the reason I had to do that. You turned her against me.”

There was nothing to say to that, you just screamed. Screamed at the top of your lungs right in his face, fighting to get free of him.

Buggy released one of your wrists to slap your face. Not hard. With the live wire pulse of your blood and breath thrumming pure electricity through your body, you didn’t even feel it, but it shut you up.

“Come on,” he said. Those words knifed past the ringing in your ears. He dragged you out of the room. Stumbling over your own feet, you didn’t get a last glance back.

The weather had taken a hard turn. A cold snap. Thick, heavy fog settled all the way down on the ground. In the darkening afternoon, it obscured everything, turning objects as benign as trees and metal rooftops into towering monsters. Buggy pulled you down the uneven road, your feet dragging through the ragged terrain as you tried to keep up.

Tears continued to leak out of your eye, but you didn’t fight Buggy anymore. There was no point in it.

It didn’t matter, you couldn’t escape him anyway.

When you stumbled, your arm came free of his grasp. You fell onto your knees, scraping them in the rocky dirt, your bloody hands getting caked with it. Tears and snot dripped onto the ground, leaving big, dark drops of mud in the lighter brown. You couldn’t breathe. There was no air, it was too thick with salty humidity and you were worn out and sobbing and gasping with the same ugly sounds as the dead and dying. The world trembled.

It was too much.

There had never been any point to it all. Your days in school with Miss Frizzy, your time on ships with Dad, climbing around northside, your first kiss with Randall, getting locked in the cellar, running away, swearing yourself to Captain Buggy—there was no meaning to any of it. All you had ever done was hurt and hurt others, gorging yourself on the thick, sticky goop called pain and disappointing the people you loved. And you knew, knew absolutely, how pointless it was. If you were just going to wind up here, a pathetic husk crying like a baby in the dirt, what did it matter?

He dragged you onto your feet, and you didn’t fight it, your blind eye swirling with meaningless visual noise of a cold, foggy world. The only thing you could hear was your ragged breaths and the thump thump thump of your heart.

Buggy said something, taking off his coat and putting it on your shoulders. It was big on you. Really big. When you didn’t respond to his prompting, he grit his teeth and pushed your arms through the sleeves. The fur tickled your jaw and the entirety of the sleeve cuff hung past your hand. He pulled it in around you, encasing you in the cocoon of fabric saturated with his warmth, with the smell of him.

You blinked, looking at Buggy again, and something in you broke with a helpless little sob because you loved him. Loved him desperately, loved him so much that it pressed against your insides, full to bursting, your bones creaking and threatening to give way to the force of it, all the bloody bits of viscera getting squished aside to make room for the feeling. Those thoughts of hate, you realized, were your own. You were the one to blame, the hideous monster.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice breaking.

“I know, babydoll,” he said, brushing your sweaty bangs off your forehead. “C’mon, we gotta hurry.”

He stood up, returning to his brisk walk down the road with you in tow. The bottom of his coat was long enough to drag on the ground. Wasn’t he cold without it? His shirt didn’t have any sleeves.

You were focusing on your own feet rather than the world around you when Buggy grabbed you, pushing you in front of himself. Given the difference in height, it led to an awkward shamble sort of walk. It wasn’t until the gritty sand became the old planks of the dock that you realized where he was taking you.

“Don’t move!” somebody barked. You looked up in panic, staring at the pointed weapons of two uniformed men.

“Woah there, fellas,” Buggy said loudly, pushing you in front of himself as he continued to walk along the dock. “You wouldn’t shoot an innocent little girl, would you? Especially the Surgeon’s daughter.”

“Let her go, clown.”

Buggy made a sound of disgust. “Spare me the cliches. We all know how this goes, so let’s skip to the end where you lower your weapons and ask me what I want.”

They looked at each other before complying, lowering their weapons. “What do you want?” the first guy asked.

“Me? Oh, I don’t want anything,” Buggy said. “This one, though… Poor thing just couldn’t wait any longer, she’s so excited to say hi to daddy. Would you mind getting him?”

“Captain Buggy, what are you doing?” you asked.

“Shut up,” Buggy said, soft enough so only you could hear him.

The men looked at each other and then back to Buggy. “If you want to speak to the Surgeon,” the second man said, “you have to let her go and come with us.”

“Don’t you shitheads have any idea how leverage works?” Buggy asked, irritated. “Babydoll’n I are gonna stay right here while you call him over, or you’re gonna have a hell of a time explaining to the old man why you let his precious daughter get gutted on your watch.”

Your breath caught and you jerked in a halfhearted attempt to get out of Buggy’s hold. When you looked up at him, he wasn’t paying you any attention, staring at the two men with a strained expression of fierce determination that belied his casual tone.

“Okay,” the first man said. He nudged his partner. “Call it in.”

The other man raised his hand to his ear. “Sir?” He said, softer. “It’s the captain—the clown… He wants to see you… I know…. He has the girl…”

“Tell him to make it quick,” Buggy called. “She’s been dying to see him again.”

“He’s on his way. Let her go.”

Buggy released you. “Babydoll, do you wanna go over there with them?” he asked, brushing one of your twintails back.

“No, Captain Buggy,” you said, clinging onto him. “Please, no.”

“There ya have it, boys,” Buggy said, throwing his hands up in a helpless shrug. “She’s a little shy around strangers.”

“Captain Buggy, you’re scaring me,” you said, talking soft enough to keep your voice from breaking. “Can’t we just… I think we should go back. Crina… We need to…”

“I get that you’re a little upset right now,” Buggy told you, effectively shutting you up, “but you have to calm down, okay?”

You shook your head. There was no way this was happening.

“Captain Buggy, please—Please, can we go back? If you say sorry, I know Crina won’t be mad. I know she didn’t… Didn’t mean it.”

Buggy winced, but that pained expression dropped as soon as he looked up. You turned around, knowing what was coming. From the mist emerged a familiar figure, flanked on either side by even more men. They weren’t wearing uniforms. Mercenaries. Dad looked the same as he had on the day you saw him off on the docks, walking with a heavy, stiff gait and looking at you with hard eyes.

“Ah, there he is!” Buggy exclaimed. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”

“What is this?” Dad asked.

“I’m here to make good on that deal, doc. As much fun as it was to put together this little show, it turns out I’m not ready to take the stage just yet. Here’s the deal—I hand her over, and you let me take one of these boats on out of here.”

“Captain Buggy, no!” You cried, turning around to cling to him desperately, afraid you would be torn away. “You promised you wouldn’t-wouldn’t… You said—you promised.”

“Pipe down, wouldja? The adults are talking.”

“The negotiations are over,” Dad said, his voice hard. “Give me the girl.”

“The thing is, she doesn’t wanna go back with you pops,” Buggy said. “The only reason she would even consider it is if I let her.”

“Captain Buggy, no. No, please… Please no!”

“Shut up,” he snapped, his smile dropping for a moment when he looked down at you.

“Please, I’ll be better! I promise, I will. I’m sorry for… I know I disappoint you a lot and-and-and I’m sorry, but I’ll… I’ll be better, I-I’ll work harder, please. I’ll do anything.”

“Look at it this way, doc. Yeah, you could take me in, but who am I compared to your own flesh and blood? I’m just one measly little pirate. She’s your beloved little girl. And, believe me, I know you put a lot of work into her. From one artist to another, I applaud the effort. It’d be a shame to lose it all over a small fry like me.”

Dad considered that, his expression unchanging. “Does this… deal account for the rest of your crew?”

“I have every confidence my freaks can take on an old man like you,” Buggy said. “And if they can’t, they’re no good to me anyway.”

“You’re a coward.”

“C’mon, doc, aren’t we beyond name calling? I mean, at this point, we’re practically family. Whaddya say?”

Dad didn’t say anything, staring at you so intensely that you wanted to climb out of your skin.

“Fine,” he said, his voice clipped. “Take one of those utility boats and get out of this place. But know that I will find you. I’ll erase you from existence.”

“There’s no need to be so dramatic. You’re doing the right thing, pops.” Buggy pried you off of him, holding you at arm’s length by the shoulders to look you in the eye. “So, uh, babydoll. I’m real sorry it had to come to this. I swear, if there was any other way, but…” He shrugged. “I know you can’t read and all, but I promise to write, okay?”

He flipped you around, pushing you forward. You couldn’t help but fall, going down hard onto your hands and knees. The thick cuffs of his coat spared your hands, but your knees caught the brunt of the old wooden planks. You flipped around onto your butt, watching Buggy cut the rope tying up one of the utility boats and push away from the dock.

One of the uniformed men dragged you onto your feet, pulling you back. The other stepped forward with a hand on his weapon, watching Buggy.

“Should we go after him, sir?” he asked Dad.

Dad grit his teeth. “Let him run, he won’t get far. For now, our priority is saving the hostages.”

“And her?”

He looked at you, his eyes cold and dark. “She’s mine.”

The men let you go as Dad came closer. You shied away from him, broken between fear and sadness.

“I have to check you for weapons,” he said. “Turn around and hold your arms out.” It occurred to you to say no, but a lifetime of instinct kicked in and you did what he said. Buggy was already gone into the mist that hung low over the water. How he intended to make it far with the weather like this, you didn’t know. But you hoped he did. He abandoned you, and you hoped he didn’t get caught.

Wasn’t that funny? He would probably laugh.

Dad patted you down for weapons. Down around your hips and then up. He paused on your chest in a way that made you cringe, maybe because of the wiring and padding of your bra. He didn’t comment on it, releasing you.

“Alright, come along now,” he said, letting you turn around to follow him. You pulled Buggy’s coat closer around yourself and did the only thing you ever really did. Obey.

Just like Cabaji said, Dad and his crew had set up in and around the aviary. You hadn’t seen the inside of the warehouse and lab yesterday, but you remembered Pippa talking about the birds.

What you had imagined was a sort of shack made of metal wiring with a handful of birds fluttering about. But of course Dad wouldn’t be content with something so mundane. In the center of an otherwise unremarkable warehouse was a beautiful aviary of glass, metal scrollwork, and mesh, filled with flourishing greenery.

“I was hoping I could show you this place,” Dad said as he led you closer, “under better circumstances. Saline used to be home to a very wealthy man. He was responsible for the selective breeding of songbirds. A rare treasure, one your captain tried to destroy. Have you heard them sing?”

You shook your head no. Listless tears continued to slip down your face, but there was no passion behind it, your body in conflict with your mind and your mind in conflict with your heart. Unsurprisingly, none of the pieces of what made up your singular self worked synergistically, almost comically antagonistic.

“Let’s sit for a moment and listen,” Dad said, gesturing to a wooden crate. You sat down, and he sat next to you. “They were named as a derivative sparrow, but I’ve come to think of them as Lacrimosa aves. They are sad little things.”

Within the huge, beautiful cage, the birds fluttered, their dark feathers standing out amidst the greenery.

One began its mournful cry, a high, clear note held for a beat too long before sliding down once, twice, and a little trill.

Oh, woe is me, the lady of tears.

Another bird answered with its own tragedy. Oh, how sad I am.

My pain, another cried, is worse than any others.

Dad smiled fondly.

Your chin wobbled no matter how hard you tried to stop it, and then a sob broke out of your chest. Pulling Buggy’s coat as close as possible like a hug, you crumpled into yourself, unable to stop crying. You wished for the hollow quiet to save you from the swell of emotion, but your despair was too loud to be drowned out.

“In the time you’ve been gone, I have found a great deal of clarity,” Dad said, catching your focus.

As always, he spoke in a way that demanded attention. He spoke in a way that made you think his words were the most important ones you had ever heard. You sniffled, wiping your nose and eye off on the floppy cuff of Buggy’s coat and sitting up to look at him.

“All these years, I have shielded you from the truth of what happened to your mother. That was a mistake. If you knew, you might have known better than to follow the same path of sin. Or…” he looked at you, his sneer of disgust softening into something worse. Disappointment. “Perhaps not. Perhaps this was inevitable. Now that I see you like this, I cannot help but wonder if it is the fate of every father to know that his daughter cannot be saved. I did everything I could to teach you what is right, to keep you good and clean. What more should I have done to eradicate the impurities within you? I hoped that medicine would cure the physical symptoms, and that proper training would bring you to heel, but in the end you are no different from her.”

“I… I don’t… What are you talking about?” you asked through hitching breaths.

“When she died, your mother was attempting to run from me,” Dad said, looking you in the eye very intently. “She thought to steal you—to take you from me, from your very own father. And for that, she was burned. Not one piece of her cursed flesh remained after that explosion, did you know that? It was as if the hand of justice had reached out and eradicated her sin from this world. You, born of her flesh and my seed and therefore only half culpable, were merely…” He raised his hand to trace the scar beneath your eye with his calloused thumb. “Cracked.”

You shook your head, shaking off his touch as well as denying his words. “No,” you told him. “She-she said we were going to you… She-”

“She was a liar. Deceit is the natural tongue of a woman,” he said, his voice harsh and scornful. “And what became of those lies, that betrayal, though regrettable, was right. Now you, abandoned by a man you trusted over your own father, that too is right.”

Within their beautiful cage, the Lacrimosa aves began another round of mournful song. Sweeping whistles and little trills, their tragedy filling the warehouse. Dad closed his eyes to listen, a faint smile curling his lips.

“No one can question the virtue of my beliefs when the universe itself endorses them so thoroughly,” he said without opening his eyes. “The wicked will be punished.”

The wicked?

If he was telling the truth, then Mom had been trying to protect you. To save you. She, the original lady of sorrows, wanted to spare you all that she endured, to save you from the pain she suffered. Mom wasn’t allowed wickedness. All she had was blood and tears and she tried her best only to be punished for it because of you.

Because of your wickedness.

And Crina—beautiful and kind Crina who warned you of the lurking dangers in the life you ignorantly chose, who cared for mothers and sisters and daughters so fiercely, who protected you from your own mistakes, who tried again to save you from the man you called father—she was punished not for any sin of her own, but because of you.

Your fault, your wickedness.

“I will make a case to the court that you are not entirely responsible for your actions, that your insanity and hysteria are what drove you to criminality,” Dad told you. He patted your back with a heavy hand, like a hammer driving a stake into the ground. “With any hope, they will agree that you should be spared execution. Of course, you will need intensive, potentially invasive treatment.”

The Lacrimosa aves sang, and it was echoed back by the others.

My pain, they cried in a discordant song, is your fault, you wicked, cursed girl.

“For many years, I have been following the research of a relatively experimental procedure. Rather than merely treating the symptoms of patients who suffer severe hysteria and insanity, it cures the mental disease altogether. Unfortunately, the physical trauma of the earlier trials was too much of a risk to your sensitive health, but many advancements have been made since then. Doctors have found a way to sever the faulty connection within the brain without drilling into the skull. Instead, they penetrate the skull through the corner of the patient’s eye with a thin instrument. It won’t hurt for long, and then you won’t be burdened with any more pain.”

Unburdened by pain.

You closed your eye, too worn out to muster a proper reaction to the disgusting brutality of the procedure he was proposing.

If it cured you, maybe that was better. At least then you couldn’t hurt anyone else.

“Perhaps, after a time,” Dad mused. “You’ll be clean again. My sweet girl.”

#opla buggy #opla buggy x reader #buggy x reader #one piece live action #buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #my writing #flashbang #not sfw #tw.dubcon

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sl-vega · 1 month

Text

✧Sticking to the Script✧-12

⋆｡°✩ 12-juliet's found a new romeo

a/n: this takes place a week after chapter 11, after school hours

"1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3."

Eula was counting out the beats as you tried to keep up. She was put in charge of choreography for the production. Albeit, she only had one scene to work with. That might have been for the best though, because a simple waltz scene felt like military training with her in charge.

She didn't hesitate to yell or shout. Several freshmen in the ensemble ran out of the room crying because of Eula. No wonder everyone hates her, you thought, but you kept to yourself. There was no way you were risking her wrath.

Lyney was your dance partner. His right hand rested on your waist, while his left was intertwined with your own. He was keeping up with Eula's instructions. You on the other hand, were doing the exact opposite.

You had stepped on his feet more times than you could count. Which resulted in numerous bruises, not to mention how you were completely off beat.

Eula opened her mouth, preparing to scold you for the hundredth time. You winced in anticipation.

"Everyone take five!"

Furina called out. Then she beckoned for Eula to talk to her. Eula set some papers down and muttered something about how incompetent everyone was before making her way to Furina. She gave you a glare, clearly indicating that you should still practice, thankfully Chiori had grabbed her attention before Eula could say anything else.

You and the ensemble took a collective sigh of relief together. Everyone went on a water break together. You and Lyney let go of each other and made your way to sit on the edge of the stage.

"Sorry about that Lyney." you muttered. "You're gonna be the death of me, (Y/N)." he said, chuckling. You playfully punched his shoulder, as he feigned pain.

"Oh, how you wound me!" he exclaimed pressing the back of his hand to his forehead for dramatic effect. You rolled your eyes as you took a sip out of your water bottle. "Yet you love me regardless."

"That was my first mistake." he replied, which earned him another punch from you. You caught him glancing at your hand, before you could ask him why, he grabbed your wrist. "You're still wearing that ring? Aren't you afraid of losing something so expensive?" he asked.

You pulled your hand away, fidgeting with the piece of jewelry that Xingqiu gave you. "Honestly, I'd feel kinda bad if I didn't wear it." you muttered as you watched Xingqiu laugh with his friend about something.

You smiled watching them fool around together. Part of you was kinda jealous.

I wish I could make you laugh like that

"Archons, you're down so bad." Lyney teased, smirking as you turned red. "Shut up." you whispered swatting his shoulder. You went back to observing the crew + some of the volunteers.

Xingqiu and his friend were transporting some boxes over to the stage. You subconsciously fixed your hair and smoothed out your clothes as he neared you and Lyney.

Xingqiu waved and you returned the gesture. "You do know you can just talk to him right?" you heard Lyney ask. You were about to do just that, but Eula had returned from her meeting with Furina and Chiori.

"Places!" she snapped her fingers as everyone scrambled into their positions, but your mind was preoccupied with other thoughts.

I wish I could just talk to him

Hours later, you still couldn't grasp the routine. Sure, you had gotten better, but not to the point where Lyney's feet didn't suffer anymore. But there was always tomorrow, rehearsal would be over soon anyway.

Eula rubbed her temples as she glanced at her phone, checking the time. "That's a wrap everyone! Thank you for coming." you heard Furina announce as she started packing up.

Fischl and Lyney started gathering their things. "You guys can leave without me, I just need to sort out some things." you told them. Fischl looked at you, then at Xingqiu, she mouthed an "Oh" before dragging Lyney away and whispering something to him.

You waved goodbye before approaching Xingqiu who had just done the same for his friend.

"Hey."

"Hi."

The two of you had exchanged a proper greeting for the first time today, it had been a while since the two of you got some one-on-one time alone. "Did you need something?" he asked.

No, I just want to spend time with you, I don't care what we do, I just want you

Is what you would've said, but that would've been to forward. The two of you stood in silence for a few seconds, though it felt like an eternity. You had to think of an excuse so he would stay.

"You wouldn't happen to know how to dance would you?"

Xingqiu looked surprised, then he took your hand and led you to the stage.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

He led you up the steps, his stand still intertwined with yours. The two of you made your way to the center of the stage. His right hand rested on your waist, and his left still held your hand.

He pulled you closer, your chests pressing against one another, you hoped he didn't feel your wild heartbeat. "Um, this is okay with you, right?" he asked, due to your close proximity you could see his cheeks dusted with pink..

You nodded, attempting to maintain eye contact with him.

"Just follow my lead then." he told you.

You counted the beats in your head, but you soon found out that you didn't need to. With Xingqiu, it just came naturally.

You found yourself focusing more on him rather than the actual routine. You noticed how pretty his resting face was, and the golden sheen in his eyes.

Your faces were getting close, dangerously close. You could feel his breath against your lips. The two of you continued dancing, you swayed along with him.

Your foreheads were resting against each other, and the two of you continued to hold eye contact.

"Xingqiu..."

He was leaning in, whether this was something he wanted, or this was just him being in the moment, was something you couldn't determine. You weren't even sure whether you wanted it either.

"Excuse me!"

You heard a voice yell, it was Furina. "Sorry to interrupt but some people are renting the auditorium so you guys need to get out now." she explained before leaving again.

You pulled away from Xingqiu, and he heard him mutter an apology as his face flushed. You went to pick up your bag that rested by the stage.

"I'll see you tommorow, yeah?"

He nodded going to get his things from the seats in the front row.

As you walked towards the exit you felt your stomach doing somersaults. You recalled your thoughts from earlier.

I just want you

You put your hand on your cheek as you felt your face heat up. You turned around to watch Xingqiu pack up his things.

Archons, I'm down bad

additional notes:

-i'm so sorry for not uploading yesterday guys T-T

-i swear i'm trying my hardest

-cockblock furina cuz why not

-not even half way through and these two children have fallen so hard for each other

-young love yk

-very proud of this chapter

-i'll try to get a double update in today

-very excited for chapter 13

-check the title and you'll find out why

-ty again for all the love <3

masterlist

✧Sticking to the Script✧

Pairing: Xingqiu x FEM! Reader

Genre: fake dating, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst (?), high school smau, modern smau

⋆｡°✩-Synopsis: Xingqiu just got entered into a special writing contest, the type that's invite only, the theme this year is love, the only problem is that he has zero romantic experience. but he really wants to prove himself as a writer. meanwhile, you just found out that your boyfriend cheated on you, and you need to show him that you're 100% over him, the only problem is that there's no way you can get an actual boyfriend that quickly. clearly, the solution to both of your issues is to fake date each other. it shouldn't be hard for an actor such as yourself, all you need to do is stick to the script.

(OPEN) Taglist: @freyao7, @thatoneswordgirl, @sn1perz, @latay7, @willowcandletree, @nmriki0, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @httpsrenren, @cupid-spams, @aixaingela, @kaitfae, @luvkvni, @danhenglovebot

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ribbonstrawberrysurprise · 9 months

Text

TMM Olé / Au Lait / Ore Translation Masterpost

I know a scanlation is out there now (it uses a version of my translation, except maybe of the first section of chapter 1, which I know someone else scanlated), but here’s links to my original script-style translations anyway, if you want to follow along with your own copies of the manga chapters. I think I got a little better over time, but be warned some of these are rougher than others just depending on how busy I was with other stuff when the chapter came out.

Chapters:

Note: these are JUST translations, with no images! You can find the scans online from @hikayagami or else buy the Japanese manga.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20

Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25

Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30

Chapter 31 Chapter 32

Other stuff:

Bonus pages from all 8 volumes (including volume 7! Which I seem to have not done at the time somehow??? There was just one page with any text though, so)

Miscellaneous promo and bonus material from Nakayoshi and from Madoka Seiduki

Anything that was just a text translation, I pasted into those docs and will delete from this blog. Anything I actually scanlated, I’ll leave up, although I do also link them in the docs.

#Translation #Tokyo Mew Mew #Tokyo Mew Mew Au Lait #Tokyo Mew Mew Ore #Tokyo Mew Mew Ole

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nights-at-crystarium · 2 years

Photo

Fragments is a slice of life comic leisurely telling a gay wolgraha story. A ShB love letter. A mix of fluff, spice, angst and idiocy. Updates every other Friday.

Read the comic using the episode index below.

───── ⋆✧⋆ ─────

✧✦✧ Chapter I: Found and lost ✧✦✧ Episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5.1 - 5.2 | text | 6 | 7 | 8 | text | 9 | 10 | 11 | text

✧✦✧ Chapter II: New world, old friend ✧✦✧ Episodes: 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42-45 in early access

My notes on episodes: 1-3 | 4-7 | 8-11 | 12-14 | 15-18 | 19-22 | 23-26 | 27-30 | 31-35 | 36-40

This comic’s storytelling style assumes you have not only played through ShB, but are closely familiar with the details.

───── ⋆✧⋆ ─────

Fragments is also on: webtoon | free pdf on kofi chapter 1 | chapter 2 | ao3 (slow updates)

───── ⋆✧⋆ ─────

Support the comic: Patreon | Kofi

I'm only asking for money needed to sustain me while I dedicate myself to this project. Current script looks like 5+ years of work, and, given your continued support, I'd indulge and add even more fun scenes.

───── ⋆✧⋆ ─────

Love my art? Get a print or a digital artbook collecting all of it!

───── ⋆✧⋆ ─────

Binge-likes, reblogs, interacting with old posts? Encouraged and appreciated!

I also have a discord server, bsky, check my carrd for more links.

FAQ under the cut:

- You aren’t on [platform name], can I repost your art? No, please DON’T repost or use my art in any way, including pfp/icons. The only things you CAN use are the discord emotes, only for their designed purpose. If you wanna share something on another platform, just link to my tumblr post. They’re permanent and easy to find thanks to tags. - Vivi’s pronouns? He/him! Both him and Raha are cis male in my work. - Can I draw him? Yes please, and don’t forget to @ me!! I LOVE fanart. ✔️ You CAN draw him solo or with characters that are established in Fragments. Please keep it sfw. ✖️ Please don't draw him with other wols or characters that aren’t established in Fragments. No what-ifs. - Can I kin him? Kin him at your own risk, his story is an iceberg that you might not like when you see it in full. You can kin Vivi as long as you don’t use his name or art, or rp as him. He’s my WoL, think how would you feel if your WoL was impersonated by someone else. - Are asks okay? YES!! I reply privately by default, if you’d like it to be posted on my blog, please indicate it somehow, maybe add “ok to post” <3 - What are your tools? Windows desktop, tablet Wacom One Medium, Paint Tool SAI, Paintstorm Studio. - Any merch/prints? You can grab a print of my art. No merch beyond what inprnt can offer. If you’d like to see another art of mine on my inprnt, just ask me <3 - Fragments physical books? Unfortunately never because I’m not US-based, and don’t have the mental capacity required to manage physical orders. - Collab, trade, request, art challenge, any other kind of community project, are you in? Nope, sorry! I prefer working at my own pace, I hope I don't come off as standoffish, just got no time and energy for that. - Just how thirsty are you for the Exarch? Yes.

#ffxiv #vivien rell #g'raha tia #wol x g'raha tia #wolgraha #ffxiv: fragments #own: next lvl

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rorywritesjunk · 21 days

Text

Let’s be one another’s present tense

Buggy ‘rescues’ you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea.

Rating: Soft NC-17 for this chapter. Warning: Communication is a THING. These two are trying. Buggy is mopey. They're working on it, okay. Talks of sex, some touching happens, Cupcake needs her man. A/N: Still dealing with relationship stuff.

Title comes from “Crater Lake” by Lady Lamb

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @neuvilleteismybby @fluffybunnyu @sinning-23 @the-angriest-angel @ane5e @fanshavegottensotoxic @honey-deerling

Chapter 13

The two of you took a ‘break’ from what you had been up to for a month, instead going back to more simple sex. Buggy still thought writing up scripts was the way to go, but you were neutral on the idea. While you understood where he was coming from as it was to make you more comfortable, it felt like maybe some of the fun and spontaneity was taken out of it, which you told him when he brought it up again one night, leading to an argument.

“It’s for your benefit!” He insisted as he held out the blank sheets of paper to you. “I don't want you upset again!”

“Buggy, I appreciate it but I don't think it's going to work!” You told him from your spot on the bed, refusing to take the stack from him. “Why does it have to be a script? Why can't we just write out some things that are not okay to say?”

“Becaaaaause!” He whined pitifully. “What if I upset you again? Baby, I don't want to make you cry!”

“If we talk things out we’ll be okay.” You sighed as he pouted at you. He looked silly, face still full of makeup, hair pulled back in his bandana, lips pouty as he looked down at you with the papers in his hand. He kept trying to get you to take it from him, which you knew if you did it meant the possibility of him wanting to write out extravagant scenes of sex that could either be incredibly cringy or incredibly arousing, you weren't sure.

“Okay, okay, here's my suggestion.” You finally said. “We can try it once and if it ends up working then great, but if it doesn't we don't do it. How does that sound, babe?”

Buggy stopped pouting long enough to think it over. He could win you over with the idea, he just had to make sure the first time was perfect. He didn't want to be the reason you cried.

“Okay, fine.” He agreed. “I'm going to write the most mind blowing sex scene for us, babe. You will be begging me to fuck you.”

“I kinda already do, Buggy.” You reminded him. “Frequently, I might add.”

You knew Buggy had focus when he wanted it and right now he was the most focused you'd ever seen him since meeting him and you were the center of it. He was laying on the bed on his stomach, kicking his feet as he stared at you with a stack of paper in front of him, scribbles, words, things crossed out were scattered across them as he chewed on the end of his pencil while you sat back against the headboard knitting a hat. It was evening, the two of you dressed down for the night with him in boxers and you wearing one of his shirts to sleep in. It wasn't worth sleeping naked in case either of you had to get up in the middle of the night for an emergency.

“Might as well illustrate what you wanna do, babe, since you've been staring at me for so long.” You said, not looking up from your project. “ What are you planning in that head of yours?”

“Oh, you'll find out.” He grinned, reaching over with the pencil to tap you on the foot lightly. “You'll love it.”

You glanced over at him, nudging his arm with your foot gently. He grabbed it and kissed the top of it before he returned to his papers.

“You like me being fearsome, so I gotta make sure I'm like that for you.” Buggy said as he wrote some things down. “And I love what you do for me, y’know, all that shit you say. The filth that comes out of your pretty mouth is so surprising, babe.”

“Aw, well, I'm glad I can surprise you.” You grinned, setting the knitting aside before stretching out on the bed in front of him, laying on your side as you propped your head up on your hand. “So, what do you have so far, Buggy?”

He looked at you, down at the scribbled pages, then back at you. “Nothing… yet! Art takes time, babe, you can't rush the process!’

“Okay, okay.” You chuckled softly. “Just let me know what you need.”

Buggy shrugged as he looked back down at his papers. He just wanted it to be perfect. He didn't want to see you upset like that again. He didn't mean to upset you that day; a month had passed but it felt like yesterday. He was determined to make sure you two could still continue what you had been doing but without anyone feeling put out. With a sigh he wrote some things down again before tapping the pencil against the paper.

“Would it help if you said out loud what you wanted to write?” You suggested. “I won't say anything, I'll just listen.”

He shrugged again, crossing something out again as he mumbled, “I just want it to be perfect.”

“Babe, I love you and I'll love whatever you write out, okay?” You assured him. “It's not like we’re going to have an audience, y’know, so don't worry.”

“Still.” He frowned and crossed his arms in front of him, resting his head on them. “Just want it to be perfect.”

You sighed and reached over to run your fingers through his hair gently. This was something you had been worried about, that he would stress about it more than he needed to. You got up and crawled over to him, pushing him onto his back before settling on his thighs. He looked up at you curiously, his hands moving to rest on your thighs as you placed your hands on top of his.

“Here's the thing, babe. I love when you fuck me.” You started to tell him as your fingers laced with his as you looked down at him. “You are sweet, gentle, and caring and I love that about you. And I also love it when you're rough and when you tell me all the things you'd do to me if only we had time.” You grinned down at him. You always loved seeing him under you. “Y’know, about making sure I can't walk for a few days, how you'd fuck me ‘til I'm seein’ stars and your name is the only one I'd know after you're done wrecking me.”

“Fuck, Cupcake-”

“Yes?” You pulled your hand free from his and reached down to touch his cheek. “I can stop if you want. Just let me know, okay?”

“Mm, no, no, it's fine, just…” He turned his head to kiss your palm softly. “Give me a sec, babe.”

You nodded, stroking his cheek softly as you moved your other hand to his chest, sliding your palm over his chest slowly, running your fingers through his chest hair, occasionally tugging at some of it.

“I love you, Buggy.” You murmured as he nodded, taking a deep breath before he sat up suddenly, arm wrapping behind your back to keep you from losing your balance from his movements. Your hands went to his shoulders, steadying yourself as he pulled you in for a kiss.

“You fuckin’ better.” He growled, catching you by surprise. He grinned, keeping you close as you stared at him. “Aw, babe, did I startle you? You thought you had me all relaxed and cozy under you, thinking you were in charge.”

“Yea, um-”

“Shh, shh, don't talk, baby.” He murmured, tightening his hold on you as his free hand moved between your bodies and between your legs. “This is okay, yea? Tell me this is okay.”

“You um, just told me not to talk, Buggy.” You assured him, digging your nails into his shoulders as his fingers dipped between your folds. You had opted not to wear underwear, just out of laziness, and you were glad you didn't. “But, um, this is okay, really.”

“Good.” Buggy grinned as he touched you, teasing you just enough that you were squirming in his lap. “What should I do to you, hm? Keep touching you like this, or should I watch you fuck yourself on my cock while I sit back and watch?”

“Oh fuck.” Honestly, you didn't care. He was touching you so carefully, fingers circling your clit, brushing over your entrance, the gentlest of touches, when really you just wanted him to get to fucking you. You let your head drop onto his shoulder, letting out a pitiful whine before he was tutting and shaking his head.

“No, no, I need to see your gorgeous face.” He scolded gently. “Cupcake, baby, do I need to back you into a corner to get you to look at me?”

“Gimme a second, Buggy!” You huffed at him, digging your nails into his skin as he pressed his finger in slowly. “J-Jus’ wasn’t expectin’ this.”

He grinned, his hand still while you took a deep breath. You didn’t anticipate this happening, but you weren’t complaining. You just wanted him to relax, to stop worrying about every little thing, and if him taking charge like this and teasing you until you wanted to scream then fine, you could cope with him slowly pushing his finger in, barely to the second knuckle, whispering to you how much he loved you, that you meant the world to him, that he was going to fuck you slow tonight, take his time for sure until you were a mess underneath him.

And he did pull his hand back to flip you onto your back, looking down at you. Buggy had no filter. He couldn’t stop himself as he looked at you, wearing his shirt, spreading your legs for him. He suddenly blurted out, “Will you marry me?”

That was not what you were expecting to hear.

#buggy the clown #cupcake x buggy #opla buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy x you #opla buggy x oc

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steamberrystudio · 10 months

Text

18/06/2023

Hi everyone! Another quick devlog for Gilded Shadows.

Revising is more or less complete (have to double check a couple of chapters just because I ended up deleting and rewriting a massive amount of content in Ch 8 - Ch 11 and want to double check that it all flows okay.

I have been proofreading and doing the basic scripting (just translating the script to code) for early chapters as well.

I have Ch 1-6 proofread and coded.

In the upcoming week I should finish up all the finally tweaks and proofreading. I should get the script fully into the game by Friday too.

Currently, with six of Yuu's chapters coded, the total word count is 981,000 words. ╰(*°▽°*)╯

I also quickly started putting together some of Yuu's flowchart mock-ups since flowcharts will be among the next things I work on.

I've also done a few small coding things - creating and coding Yuu's chapter screens, setting up his ending screen and other variables, etc.

I always like getting the chapter screens set up at the start. I feel like the moment I can show my first chapter screen screenshot is a milestone of some sort in each route's creation

So yeah, that's about where the game stands right now. Once I embark on Yuu's visual assets in a few weeks, it really will be kind of the final bend when it comes to GS development.

By my next post I should have the final game word count. It'll be interesting to see where that ends up.

And that's all for GS.

When Stars Collide

For those following for WSC updates - I've been still working on the writing after re-planning Daaz's entire story climax and resolution. But I've been doing a few other things as well, such as updating my sprite code with the help of a developer friend.

I also finally got everyone's alternate outfits set up and coded. With the exception of Wil who is going to end up with several more outfits most likely.

It's possible the others will too, honestly. (Same developer friend made a great little dev tool that lets me see and test new sprite assets without having to code scenes in the game where they appear. It's so useful! Love it).

Hoping to get Daaz's route complete soon but of course I only write this one a couple of times a week at the moment so it's going quite slow. But I will get there. 💪

Anyway, that's all for this update. See you next time!

~Esh

#gilded shadows #when stars collide #updates #otome #amare game #asher #yren #yuu

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wheresarizona · 2 years

Text

Learning to Live Part 11

summary: For the first time in over the month you’ve been dating Javier, he’s taking you away from Laredo for the night to go dancing in the city. This requires a small road trip and getting a hotel room—drinking leads to lowered inhibitions, and well, the two of you really enjoy testing your luck.

rating: E (18+!! So much smut. Soft Javier Peña (my beloved), Jealous Javier Peña, no y/n, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, vaginal fingering, face-sitting, public sex (thigh riding), spanking, praise kink, dirty talk, (1) bite, begging, road tripping with Javi, dancing, alcohol (being tipsy with Javi), domestic fluff, food mention, Javi taking care of you, feelings)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 9.5k+

a/n: We’re jumping forward in time this chapter due to Javi and Cielito deciding to go off script. Next chapter will have us going back to the ranch and meeting Chucho for the first time. This comes from a dialogue prompt @hnt-escape sent in that was, "You're cute when you're jealous,” for Javi and Cielito, which turned into a whole thing (Thank you!). I apologize if I make you yearn to go on a road trip with Javi. I also apologize if I make you yearn to go dancing with him. Shoutout and all of my love to @juletheghoul , who beta’d and helped me immensely. I hope you enjoy!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Prev - Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist

You’d been dating for one month and five days, not that you were keeping track or had a heart drawn on your kitchen calendar in the June 11th square, marking the day Javier asked you to be his girlfriend. When your boyfriend wasn’t working, he was with you. Javi slept at your apartment, you spent your weekends together doing things around town or staying in, and once a week, you both went out to the ranch and had dinner with Chucho. It was the new normal, and you loved every minute of having him around and in your life.

It was a Thursday night in July, the two of you eating dinner at your kitchen table, as usual, Javi sitting across from you and immediately digging in like he hadn’t eaten the entire day, which you knew wasn’t true, praising the food you made like he always did. When his plate was empty, he wiped his mouth with a napkin, discarding it next to his dish, and rested his forearms on the tabletop. His eyes were bright as he looked at you, a crooked smile underneath his perfectly trimmed mustache.

“Hey, you wanna go dancing?” He asked.

You paused in the middle of a bite, your eyebrows furrowing as you thought over the question and set your fork down.

“You want to go line dancing at the rec center tonight?” You asked slowly.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were dance nights; a bunch of the ladies who worked at the hospital went with their husbands, but you couldn’t picture Javi dancing like that—wearing the cowboy boots and hat, a bolo tie around his neck, doing the choreographed steps with a group. You knew he had the boots but refused to wear the hat, and you’d need to inquire about the tie. Did he know the choreography? You absolutely didn’t, but he could teach you if it was something he wanted to do.

“No, Cielito,” he chuckled. “I thought it would be fun to drive to the city and go to a club tomorrow.”

You perked up, back straightening in your seat. That was definitely more your speed, and the two of you hadn’t decided on any plans for the weekend, the prospect sounding fun, but the city was a couple of hours away.

“First of all, I’m very surprised you’d want to go to a club,” you said, gathering your mostly empty plate and water glass, done with your dinner, as you got up from the table.

“I wanna dance with you,” Javi said, getting up and grabbing his used dishes and following you.

“We dance in the kitchen all the time,” you pointed out as you set what you were holding in the sink.

Music was essential when cooking meals which led to him pulling you into his arms sometimes, the two of you slowly swaying to whatever was playing like the first time you’d done it on your third date. He’d also witnessed your singing and dancing when you put on a record and cleaned the apartment, catching him watching with a fond look on his perfect face.

You moved out of Javi’s way, resting your hip against the counter and seeing him smiling as he set his things with yours.

“We slow dance,” he nodded, facing you when he was done. “But I wanna dance with you,” he emphasized the word, and you got his meaning, making you snort.

“All I’m hearing is you want me in a sexy dress and grinding on you,” you smirked, poking him in the chest.

“Doesn’t have to be sexy,” he shrugged. “Whatever you want to wear.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“You don’t care about the outfit. All that matters is the grinding?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Wanna feel your body pressed against mine,” he put his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him, locking his gaze on yours.

“I think we press our bodies together all the time,” you wagged your eyebrows.

He huffed out an amused breath, moving his face closer to yours, his eyes burning into your own.

“I want to do it in public,” his voice going lower, fingers tightening on you.

“I don’t know why I’m so into you saying that, but my god,” you said, reaching up to hold his face, the slight stubble under your palms. He smirked. “If we’re going out,” you continued. “The dress will be sexy—have to look hot if I’m with you; otherwise, I’ll have to fight off all the ladies vying for your attention,” you closed the distance to kiss him, feeling the familiar prickle of his mustache.

“You always look sexy,” he said against your lips. “And I only want to look at you.”

You felt yourself melt a little, breaking the kiss to look at him.

“Stop being sweet, or I’m going to suck your dick,” you winked, making him grin at your words. “Okay, this sounds like a lot of fun. The only issue is the drive there is over two hours; if we’re going out and drinking, we’ll have to stay the night.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I already figured everything out. Wanna go?”

In the time you’d been dating, you hadn’t done anything like this yet. It sounded exciting—going away for a night, somewhere nobody knew either of you, drinking and dancing, staying in a hotel, and having some carefree fun.

You nodded quickly, smiling at him.

“I’m in,” you said. “Let’s do it. What time do you want to leave?”

His smile was so big his dimple appeared.

“After you get off work?”

“Perfect.”

The next day Javi was waiting at your apartment when you got home.

Both of your overnight bags were put in the backseat of his truck, and the first stop on your road trip was the gas station. He pulled up to a pump, his aviators on, wearing a deep blue button-up and some jeans, his hair still damp from the quick shower you’d both taken before you left.

“What do you want to drink and snack on?” You asked, sitting beside him on the bench seat.

He looked at you, lips turning up in a smile.

“Coke, Mexican if they have it,” he paused as he thought for a second. “And pretzels,” he finally answered.

Your eyebrows rose.

“Pretzels? Like chocolate covered?” You knew you sounded confused.

“No,” he shook his head. “Just regular.”

“Your road trip snack is plain pretzels?”

He frowned a little.

“Yes?” He answered, sounding unsure.

“A bold choice. You don’t want anything sweet? M&M’s, Hershey’s bar, Skittles?” You named the first things that came to mind.

He made a face.

“Not big on chocolate, and Skittles are just colorful sugar.”

You laughed, cupping his cheeks to give him a quick kiss.

“Okay, Mr. Pretzels,” you said when you parted. “I’ll get you your snack of choice and a Coke. I’ll be right back.”

He kissed you again before you both got out of the truck.

When you returned from the gas station mini-mart with a paper bag full of snacks, and two glass bottles of Coke strategically held in your hand, Javi was leaning against the back of his truck waiting for you.

“They had the goods!” You said, showing him the sodas.

He smiled as he took the drinks from you, watching as he did a fancy trick using the bottles to pop open one of them, Javi handing it to you before he opened the other against the metal bumper he’d been standing in front of. He leaned down with a groan to grab the bottlecaps, tossing them into the truck's bed when he stood back up.

“You’re very creative,” you said with a smile.

He chuckled.

“Gotta be without a bottle opener,” he said. He took a sip, sighing in delight after he swallowed. “This is the fucking best.”

You giggled.

“As you’ve told me many times,” raising your bottle before taking a drink.

“It’s the truth,” he nodded. “They use actual cane sugar and not that high-fructose bullshit.”

“Wanna know a fun fact?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he smiled.

“Since the Mexican version has real sugar, they don’t have to use as much. So, tastes better and has less sugar.”

“See, American Coke is shit.” He leaned in to kiss you. “Let’s get going,” he said, playfully slapping your thigh and making you giggle.

“Okay,” you said, following him as he opened the driver’s side door for you.

“Growing up,” Javi started as you climbed in, putting the snacks on the far side of the seat and taking your place in the middle. “Every Sunday after church, we’d stop at the gas station,” he said as he got in behind the steering wheel and shut the door. “And my dad would get us all bottles of Coke when he went in to pay.”

“A little Sunday treat,” you replied, smiling. “Bet you looked absolutely adorable.”

Javi chuckled, his head turned towards you.

“Yeah. It was a treat,” he had a fond smile on his face, setting his Coke in one of the two cup holders sticking out from the console in front of you. “Ma would always slow cook barbacoa for dinner—she did beef. We’d have tacos, my tios and tias would come by with all the primos, and we’d run around. Big family get-togethers that continued even after I fucked off with the DEA. My tia took over the tradition after my mom passed, no barbacoa—just a way for everyone to catch up. Dad goes every week. I, uh,” he scratched at his mustache, frowning. “Haven’t gone since I got back.”

You put your drink next to his and rubbed your hand on his thigh comfortingly.

“That’s okay,” you reassured him. “You’ll go when you’re ready, and if you need someone with you, I’m always available.”

His hand held the nape of your neck as he leaned in to kiss you softly.

“Thank you,” he said when he pulled back to look at you.

“It’s really no big deal. I love your dad. I’m sure I’d love the rest of your family, too.”

“I know they’ll love you,” he said.

You smiled.

“That makes me very happy.”

He kissed you again.

“You ready to go?” He asked.

“Let’s get this show on the road!”

He chuckled, turning to put his seatbelt on before starting the truck up, and getting you on your way.

There was music playing at a reasonable volume as you made easy conversation, the radio set to a station that played hits from the last twenty years, the cab cool from the air conditioning humming. Out of the front windshield, the highway stretched for miles heading northeast, cutting through the desert with only a little bit of green here and there. Going from Laredo to San Antonio on Interstate 35 had you driving through a few small towns spread out on the route—the scenery pretty barren between them aside from the occasional gas station or random house, which meant there wasn’t much to look at.

You were thirty minutes into your trek when Javi asked for some pretzels. You got the bag and opened it to pull out a small salted covered knot.

“Open,” you said, bringing it up to his lips.

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, opening his mouth and accepting the food, hearing him crunch the hard snack between his teeth.

“You’re going to feed me?” He asked after swallowing.

“It’s the job of the co-pilot,” you said.

“Hand feeding the driver is the co-pilot’s job?” His attention turned back to the road.

“Oh, yes,” you nodded. “I’m also in charge of making sure the music is perfect, holding your hand, and ensuring you get the proper allotment of cuddles since kissing is too distracting,” you pouted.

He glanced over, chuckling at the look on your face.

“I think I like having a co-pilot,” he said.

You grinned.

“Another pretzel?” You asked, holding up the pretzel bag as it lightly crinkled in your hold.

“Please.” He was already opening his mouth when you raised one to his lips. “Thank you, baby,” he said around the bite.

“You’re welcome.”

It went like that for a while until he got thirsty and drank some of his Coke, putting the rest of his snack away.

You got out your bag of Skittles, opened a corner, and poured some into your palm, eating them in groups of the same flavor. Javi looked over quickly to see what you were snacking on and held out his hand.

“Can I have a few of those?” He asked.

You smiled as you tipped some into his palm.

“I thought you didn’t like these.”

“I don’t. They’re too sweet. I just want a couple.”

He dumped them into his mouth and started chewing.

You went back to munching, but every couple of minutes, his hand would creep back over silently asking for more and making you giggle when you eventually ran out.

“You ate all of my Skittles,” you said as you discarded the wrapper into the paper bag with the rest of the snacks.

“No, I didn’t,” he replied.

“You did. You like the colorful sugar. Admit it.”

“I stand by that they’re too fucking sweet,” he said, looking at you for a moment with a frown.

“But you like them even if they’re too sweet.”

“They’re okay,” he mumbled.

“I’ll accept that as an admission.”

It was another hour, the Cokes were empty, and most of the snacks had been eaten when “Whatta Man,” by Salt-N-Pepa, started playing. Javi had heard you hum along and softly sing many times since the beginning of your journey, smiling as you did, but the current tune had you grabbing your empty bottle and turning your body towards him.

“I dedicate this song to you, babe,” you told him as he glanced over with a smile. “And I mean every word, so listen closely.”

“I’ve never heard this,” he replied.

“That’s even better,” you grinned.

This was one of your favorite songs, the album it was on nestled in the cd case in your car that you’d listened to hundreds of times, knowing all of the words by heart.

The familiar beat was going, you pretending the glass you were holding was a microphone, pressing your other hand against his chest as you sang the opening of what a mighty good man he was, making Javi chuckle and shake his head with a smile.

You took a big breath and got into the rap, smoothly reciting the words about how you wanted to give much respect to him for making a difference in your world. It made you smile just how perfect this song was in describing how you felt about him.

Javi was smiling fondly when he looked over as you emphasized the lines on how nobody was perfect and that he was worth it, and it spurred you on, hitting every word. You watched him closely, his eyes on the road as you gazed at his gorgeous profile, continuing your flow and making your voice go all husky when you said, “I think I want to have your baby.” He choked on his spit, sputtering, and coughing, your eyes going wide as you changed hands the bottle was in so you could pat him on the back, unable to help it when you cracked up.

“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry!” You said between laughs, missing some of the chorus.

“It’s okay,” his voice was rough, taking off his aviators and setting them on the dash as he wiped his watery eyes, finally calming down. “Just unexpected.” His eyes met yours, a little smile on his face. “Keep going.”

You composed yourself, taking a deep breath.

“Okay.”

His attention turned to the road as you brought the bottle back up to your mouth and started back up with the rapping, describing in detail how sexy, smart, and funny he was and that none of your exes could ever be like him. Javi looked over at you with a big smile, making your chest feel all warm. Your hand dropped to his thigh, grabbing over the denim as you told him he was a god even in jeans and absolutely the man of your dreams, making Javi laugh.

You continued into the next part, letting him know you knew he loved you and that he touched you in all the right spots and how other men didn’t, him looking over at you with a soft look, his eyes a bit wider. You made sure to speak the words clearly on how he was a highway to heaven, keeping you open twenty-four hours like a Seven Eleven.

Javi laughed.

“Don’t think I won’t,” he smirked, glancing over.

“A menace,” you said quickly, before jumping into the next bit, talking about how he always chooses you, and you’re never losing being with him, and rounding it out by saying that good men were hard to find.

You juggled the bottle again, freeing up your hand to press against his chest as you sang the chorus, Javi grabbing it to bring up to his lips, looking over at you as he kissed the back of it with a smile. He threaded your fingers together, holding your hand tightly on his thigh.

You stopped singing for a moment.

“This next part is so spot on that if I didn’t know you were in Colombia at the time, I’d think this song was written about you.”

His head turned towards you.

“You really think all this?” He asked.

You nodded, smiling.

“Oh, yeah. Every word.”

He had that soft look on his face again, the one where you knew or at least hoped he was thinking those three little words he hadn’t said yet. You saw that same expression a lot lately. He brought your twined hands back up to kiss your hand again before turning his attention to the road.

You started up again, going right along with the rap, detailing how good he was in bed. As you recited the lyrics, you couldn’t help thinking how fitting they were. Javi wasn’t a wham bam, thank you ma’am type of man; he did like taking his time, always did things right, and could absolutely knock you out for the night with just one shot. He snorted and shook his head with that last part, which made you grin. The descriptions continued to be accurate about him being secure in his masculinity, that he was a lover and a protector, how he was always there when you needed him, and he wasn’t disrespectful, which you definitely believed was because his mother had taught him right.

You reached out a hand to make him look at you when you said the words, “I got a good man,” and his eyes went a little rounder as he swallowed, attention turning back to the road as he listened to you serenade him again over what a good man he was.

When the song finally ended, he turned his head, awkwardly keeping his eyes on the road.

“Kiss me,” he said.

You giggled, leaning in to press your lips against his.

Once he was satisfied he kissed you sufficiently, he focused on the road again.

“I really fucking like you, Cielito,” he said as he glanced over with a smile.

“I really fucking like you, too, Javi, and I meant every word of that song.”

“I know.”

And you weren’t sure if it was because the Star Wars movie marathon you had together was fresh in your mind, but when he said those two words, your brain translated them to, “I love you, too.”

You arrived in San Antonio after the sun had set; the tall buildings lit up and filling the skyline, looking like the big city it was.

When Javi told you he had everything figured out, you hadn’t anticipated him getting a room at a nice hotel downtown. He said it was a few blocks from the club he was taking you to, and when you worried about the cost, he mentioned the prices were pretty decent.

The room was on the fifth floor, a big king-sized bed, the place impeccably clean, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking down on the busy streets below.

You had a light dinner at the restaurant on the ground floor before returning to the room to get ready for the night out.

You changed in the bathroom, also doing your makeup and hair, and when you finished, you found Javi sitting on the end of the bed watching the news, wearing a black button-up that stretched across his shoulders sinfully and some dark wash jeans. His head immediately turned towards you, and you saw his mouth slightly fall open, eyes widening, making you smile.

“Do I look okay?” You asked, looking down at yourself and smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric.

Your outfit for the evening was a cute black dress that showed a bit of cleavage and went to mid-thigh, paired with some reasonable heels that would be okay to dance in that were sitting by the door.

His mouth closed.

“Do you look okay?” He asked. His face looked slightly pained. “Fuck, baby, we’re not leaving the room.”

You laughed.

“We drove two and a half hours. We’re going dancing,” you replied.

“Come here,” he said, holding out his hand. You let him pull you to stand between his legs. His big hands ran up your sides, his eyes tracking across every inch of you, before shoving his face between your boobs. “Yeah,” his voice was muffled, speaking into your chest. “I don’t wanna go anymore. Fuck, dancing.”

You giggled, pushing your fingers into his hair and tugging gently to pull his head back so he’d look at you.

You had a moment where you stared at those plush lips of his you knew were soft, and suddenly you wanted to kiss him. You gave in, leaning down to press your mouth against his, reveling in how they felt like you imagined, kissing him for some seconds before straightening again. Javi had a lazy smile on his face, his eyes darker, hungrier, his hands rubbing down your back and along your ribs.

“Dancing is the whole reason we’re here,” you said.

“You look too fucking good,” he rasped.

“Yes, in order to go dancing,” you ran your fingers through his hair, feeling it all soft under your touch.

His hands went to your thighs, making your skin heat as he slowly moved them up, making their way under your dress.

“I’d rather eat your pussy while you’re wearing this,” his voice went deeper, huskier, sending a shiver down your spine and arousal spike in your belly.

You thought it over for a second.

“Compromise. You eat my pussy then we go out?”

You saw his brain work, his tongue licking his bottom lip.

“Okay,” he finally answered. He moved quickly, wrapping his arms around your thighs and hauling you onto the bed, making you gasp his name in surprise as he tossed you into the middle of the mattress on your back. Javi crawled up after you, moving up your body from between your legs, bunching your dress at your waist as he went to slot his hips with your own.

As soon as his face was in line with yours, he was crashing his mouth against yours in a hungry kiss, one arm holding himself while his other hand palmed your breast, your own fingers moving in his hair. He pushed his tongue between your lips when you moaned, licking into your mouth and tasting you. Your body was thrumming, arousal pooling in your core, and you felt your panties becoming damp. The kissing only stopped when the need to breathe became too much, both of you panting to catch your breaths while your lungs burned. Javi kissed along your jaw and down your neck, zeroing in on your pulse point to suck at the skin hard enough to leave a mark and making you moan before continuing his journey down your body.

A pillow propped up your head, his eyes on yours when his face was at level with the apex of your thighs, his hands smoothed down your sides until his fingers were moving beneath the thin strip of the waistband of your panties. He finally looked down, taking in what you were wearing.

“Fuck,” he groaned. He glanced up at you, the hunger in his gaze making your belly clench deliciously. “You’re too fucking good to me,” he smirked, kissing your mound over the fabric.

“I know they’re your favorite.”

The red lacy thong was absolutely his favorite.

“You know they are.” You watched him move into a kneeling position, your eyebrows furrowing, confused by the sudden change when his hands grabbed onto your waist, and he used his strength to flip you onto your belly easily, making you squeak in the process.

“Hands and knees, baby,” he said, lightly smacking your thigh.

You did as he said, looking over your shoulder at him when you were up with a raised eyebrow.

“I thought you were eating me out?” You asked.

His eyes met yours, tongue peeking between his lips.

“I am. I just need to see,” he said, as his attention moved to your ass. He pushed your dress up, baring you, his hands grabbing handfuls of the plump flesh in front of him, massaging it in his palms. “Fuck, that’s pretty,” he landed a solid smack to an asscheek, making you moan as your head fell between your shoulders, feeling slick seep from you.

“Cielito, baby?” He rasped, hands still working.

“Yes, Javi?” You sounded breathless, anticipation swelling inside you.

“I’m gonna eat your pussy the way I want. Is that okay?”

Your brows creased, going through your mind on how many different ways there were to do the act, and a little lost on why he was asking. All of them were acceptable.

“Sure?”

“Too fucking good to me,” he murmured, feeling a sharp slap against your ass again that had you moaning his name. You felt his fingers as they dipped under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down, Javi lifting each of your legs to get them off before you heard him getting off the bed. You turned your head to look, watching as he quickly worked through the buttons of his shirt, shrugging it off and tossing it onto the corner of the mattress away from you both, taking in his golden chest and soft tummy, your mouth going dry at the sight.

The bed dipped when he crawled onto it, moving up beside you until his hips were next to yours, and he turned over to sit on his ass, his jean-clad legs stretched out in front of him. You were trying to figure out the logistics of what he was planning when his arm went under your torso, his other hand grabbing onto your thigh closest to him, making you yelp as he lifted you into his lap.

Your face was inches from him, confusion etched on your features, as he smiled, kissing you quickly before lying back. That was when it dawned on you what he was planning, your eyes going wide and a nervous fluttering beginning in your stomach.

“You want me to sit on your face?” You could hear the uncertainty in your voice.

This wasn’t something you’d ever done before. No one had ever asked, and here Javi was eager to do it, his hands gripping onto your thighs and pulling you up his chest, your arousal leaving a trail as you moved. You were supporting your weight on your knees, settled against his sides.

“I need you to sit on my face, Cielito,” he replied, eyes on yours. “Fucking badly.”

Your head was tilted down to look at him, and you saw it in his gaze, the want, the devotion, the need. You were a little worried—you didn’t want to suffocate him—but you knew he’d make it good, and that excited you, the feelings warring with one another. The look he was giving you helped alleviate some of the anxiety.

“I’ve never done this before,” you said, chewing your lip.

He rubbed a hand along your thigh, his other moving up to gently cup your face in his palm.

“I’ve got you,” he said. “Just hang onto the headboard, and I’ll do all the work,” he smiled comfortingly.

“I don’t want you to die between my legs.”

“That’s the fucking dream, Cielito,” he smirked. “Beats the fuck outta getting shot.” You frowned, and his face softened. “You’re not gonna kill me,” he reassured, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip. “I can move you off, or I’ll tap your thigh twice. I promise I’ll be okay—better than okay. Your pussy on my face? Fucking heaven.”

His words soothed you, and seeing how much he wanted this.

“Okay,” you giggled, body now vibrating with excitement.

“That’s my good girl.” A tingle moved down your spine. “Now, get up here, baby. Wanna taste you," he rasped, licking his bottom lip.

He grabbed your hips and started moving you closer to his mouth, your hands reaching out to grip the wooden headboard for balance.

You were straddling his head, lowering yourself, and Javi gripped the tops of your thighs to eagerly pull you down all the way flush with his face. You felt the bristle of his mustache against your sensitive flesh, followed by one broad stroke of his tongue as he did a slow, savoring lick through your folds, making you moan, and your eyes flutter closed at the sparks of pleasure radiating in your core. He did another, and another groaning into you, feeling the vibrations of it, before he went to work, licking and sucking every inch in front of him like he wanted to get every last drop of your taste.

You felt the build in your body as your muscles started tightening, moaning with each swipe of his tongue, and suck of his lips. He pulled your clit into his mouth, and it had you gasping his name, your fingers clenching against the wood, pushing you closer to your release. His hands were on your ass, gripping tight as he pulled you closer to him, feeling and hearing how much he was enjoying himself as he hungrily licked and sucked at your skin.

Your mind was lost in the sensations, stomach knotting in arousal, with how fucking good it felt. He was going about it so passionately, so thoroughly, it was like you gifted him the sweetest ambrosia only fit for the gods, and he was going to have his fill, practically devouring you like the best meal of his life.

He pushed his tongue inside you, fucking you with the muscle, and that, combined with his humming moans, had you trembling, your eyes rolling back in your head. You could feel his hot breaths ghosting against your skin, your body winding tighter, not able to stop yourself when you started grinding back and forth along his face, hearing an encouraging sound beneath you as his hands helped you to move.

Lewd wet sounds and your moans filled the room as he continued to lick and suck at your sensitive flesh, feeling the quivering of his groans against your core, pushing you so close, the muscles in your belly so tight, you were right on the edge. His big hands dug into your thighs moving you so he could rub his nose against your clit, side to side, while his tongue pressed into you, and that was it. The coil in your belly snapped, shouting Javi’s name as you came, swimming in all of the sensations, getting swept away in the sea of pleasure.

You felt and heard his loud rumbling groan as he drank you down, your body shaking as the tingling warmth spread through your limbs. You were on another plane of existence. Your mind high up above the clouds as you rode out your bliss.

Hands slid along your hips, and you had the mind to let go of the headboard as you were moved back onto his chest, hearing his heavy breathing as he laid you down beside him and pulled you into his arms, stroking his hands along your back.

It could have been one minute or ten before you opened your eyes.

“Hi,” you said against his chest.

Javi moved back, so he could look at you, half of his face shining with your juices, a smile on his lips.

“Hey, baby,” he said. “What did you think?”

“I didn’t asphyxiate you between my thighs, and I came very hard. I think it was a good time had by all, a ten out of ten experience, would enjoy taking that mustache for a ride again,” you smiled.

Javi laughed, leaning in to kiss you hard, his hand holding the back of your head, making you moan as you tasted yourself.

He was grinning when he pulled back.

“You can take it for a ride anytime you want, Cielito.”

“Still the best boyfriend on the planet. Now, let’s get cleaned up. I was promised grinding in public.”

“Yes, Cielito,” he chuckled. “We can go.”

It took you twenty minutes to get to the club after Javi washed up, and you both finished getting ready, minus your underwear because they’d mysteriously disappeared—you were pretty sure they were in Javi’s pocket.

You had been at the place for less than ten minutes, and things were not going according to plan.

You knew you looked cute in your dress, but apparently, you looked so good you were getting a ridiculous amount of attention. Since entering the door, three men had brazenly hit on you like Javi wasn’t with you. You saw his jaw tick, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and glaring at any man who dared look your way, as the two of you found a table in the busy establishment.

The music was bumping with rhythmic beats in primarily Spanish, which was enjoyable even if you didn’t know all the words. A crowd of people were moving against each other on the dance floor as colorful lights jumped all over the place. All the booths surrounded the dancers from most sides, leaving one open for the bar, the seating raised to offer a vantage point to watch everyone bumping and grinding in the middle.

You’d found an empty table along the wall directly across from the bar. Javi very reluctantly agreed he’d go get you both drinks, kissing you so passionately before he left you would think he was going off to war. You’d scooted into your booth, watching Javi make his way through the crowd, people moving out of his way with how purposeful he was walking, and you could only assume he was scowling, which made you smile.

You admired the black shirt molded to his shoulders like a second skin, his jeans tight against his ass, and couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking good he looked, your skin getting heated when you remembered what happened in the room only minutes before.

Your thirsting was interrupted by a man trying to talk to you, who you shot down quickly, another taking his place not even two minutes later and getting the same treatment. You were mildly annoyed, just wanting to have fun with your boyfriend and not be bothered. You looked across the dance floor at the bar, spotting Javi right away, his eyes locked on you, a deep frown on his lips, eyebrows knitted together, looking incredibly grumpy, and it was so adorable, you couldn’t help but giggle. You blew him a kiss that made him smile for a fraction of a second before a woman approached him, and it was your turn to frown, watching him say something to her and her walking away immediately. His eyes found yours again right away until the bartender was getting his attention.

By the time Javi returned with two plastic cups in his hands, another man was at your table, who you were brusquely telling to go away. Your mild annoyance had turned into full-blown after watching another pretty woman try and talk to Javi while he was waiting for the drinks.

“Fuck off,” Javi growled at the interloper. “She’s taken.”

The man quickly apologized and left, Javi setting the drinks down on the table and sliding in next to you.

“Thank—” You started, your sentence cut off by his lips suddenly on yours, kissing you incessantly. His big hands held your face, deepening the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, and swallowing your moan as you tangled your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him closer.

You could feel all his emotions as he kissed you hard—he was relentless, like he was trying to imprint on you that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could have either of you. You reciprocated with the same energy, wanting him to know that you felt the same and that there could never be anyone else. The kisses became consuming, drowning in each other’s need until you both had to come up for air, sharing panted breaths as your foreheads touched.

"You're cute when you're jealous,” you finally said, kissing the tip of his nose.

“They won’t fucking leave you alone,” he grumped, moving his head to look at you. He was frowning, eyes looking a little sad.

“Nobody will leave you alone, either,” you frowned.

“I hate it.”

“Me too. But you know what?”

“What?”

“You’re the one taking me home tonight. You’re the one who’s going to fuck me tonight. So let’s show everyone how very happy we are together.”

He smiled, his hand moving to your thigh under the table, sliding his fingers along your skin until they were just going under your dress and pausing, leaning his head close to whisper in your ear.

“I am the one who’s going to fuck you tonight,” the raspy sound of his voice had a shiver move through you, your breath hitching in your throat. “I’m the only one that gets to come inside you.” Your eyes closed, feeling your skin heat. “And you’re the only woman in the entire fucking world I want to be with. You’re it for me, Cielito, and I’m really fucking happy about it. Let’s give them all a fucking show.”

His words had your hands grabbing his face to smash your lips against his, kissing him with everything you had. Your tongue slid into his mouth, tangling with his and making him groan. You wanted him to feel how you felt, that he was the only man you wanted to be with, that he was it for you too, all of his statements mirroring your own feelings.

You were breathing hard when you broke the kiss, making sure he was looking you in the eye.

“You’re it for me, too, Javi. No one else, and I’m really fucking happy about it. Let’s have some fun.”

After some drinks, the two of you were relaxed and tipsy, unable to keep your hands off each other when you finally went out on the dance floor.

The air was thick and hot from all the bodies, the smell of booze and body fragrances permeating the space, feeling the thrum of the music and the bass vibrating beneath your feet.

You had an idea that Javi knew how to dance, but you hadn’t anticipated how well. The man danced like he fucked, passionately, fluidly—his chest pressed along the line of your back, hips flush with your ass, big hands on your waist as you moved to the music, rolling your bodies against each other in a synched rhythm that was achingly familiar to how you moved in bed.

Sweat was glistening on your skin, and having Javi so close, feeling every inch of him and the growing bulge rubbing against your backside, had your body aflame in lust, slick already coating your inner thighs.

His lips were at your ear, hearing his heavy breaths and whispers just for you.

“Your body feels so good, Hermosa,” he purred. “Feel what you do to me?”

He ground himself against you, a moan slipping from your lips, drowned out by the song. His hands started roaming, sliding along your torso and arms, shamelessly palming your breast, continuing to move everywhere, and driving you wild with every touch and roll of his hips.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said.

He was still moving with you to the beat, one of his arms wrapping over your chest, his other hand at your thigh, fingertips ghosting up to the hem of your dress.

“And you’re out here with no panties on?” His voice going lower. “My dirty fucking girl. I could just slide my fingers underneath and touch your pretty pussy, right here with all these fucking people around, and no one would care.”

You moaned again at the thought, your core throbbing as you pressed your ass against him harder.

“You’d like that?” He asked.

His fingers skated up a little, taking the fabric with them, a breath getting stuck in your throat.

“Are you dripping for me, baby? Wanna be touched?”

Your hand latched onto his on your thigh, being bold, and moving it up a little higher as you nodded your head, biting your lip, your body alight in anticipation.

“I’ve got you, Cielito, baby. I’m gonna make you feel good.”

One moment you were facing away from him, and the next, he’d spun you around easily, pulling you flush against him and sealing his mouth over yours in a hungry kiss. Your fingers landed in his hair, tugging on the thick strands as his tongue delved into your depths to taste you.

It was the two of you in a sea of people, not caring there were others around, lost in one another like everybody else in the vicinity, your inhibitions lowered from the drinks you had.

Javi wedged his thigh between your legs, causing your dress to rise. You got what he was doing, immediately rubbing your center against the denim, feeling his muscles tense beneath you. You gasped into his mouth at the first jolt of pleasure against your clit, the rough fabric feeling exquisite on your naked skin, Javi kissing you harder, tongue tangling with your own, and swallowing your moans.

You were needy for the delicious friction, grinding against him, already worked up from the dancing, and his words, letting the tension build inside, feeling it grow with each slide of your hips. You knew you were wet, could feel the growing wet patch beneath you as you moved, your muscles pulling taut as you continued to work.

Everything around you faded, leaving just Javi and how he was making you feel. His hands grabbed onto your ass, helping you move, pressing you harder against him, and working you faster, feeling the pressure in your core rise, and rise, moaning into his mouth with each pleasurable push and pull of your clit over his jeans.

His lips came off yours, speaking low in your ear.

“Gonna come on my leg, baby?” He asked.

You bit your lip, nodding your head, melting into the sensations against your cunt, the sweet tension building in the pit of your stomach. It felt so fucking good, his fingers digging into the flesh of your asscheeks, grinding you harder against him, the gasping moans falling from your lips not heard over the almost deafening music.

“You’re soaking through my jeans,” Javi rasped, his breath tickling your ear. “You’re so fucking wet. You enjoying this, Cielito?”

You moaned in response, and he nipped at your earlobe.

“My dirty girl. So good to me.” You whimpered, pussy throbbing from the stimulation. You were close, could feel it just in reach. “Come for me,” Javi ordered.

You finally hit your breaking point, tumbling over the edge and coming with a strangled moan of his name as your body was awash in ecstasy, body wracking with pleasure. Your limbs were tingling when you slumped into his embrace, Javi holding you close, rubbing his hands along your spine to help bring you down from your high.

“My good girl,” his voice was huskier, deeper. “My good fucking girl.”

When your breaths evened out, you leaned in to kiss him tenderly until he was moving to speak in your ear.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asked.

You trailed a hand down his chest between both of your bodies, leaning in close so he could hear you over the music.

“Yes,” you answered, palming his hard length in his jeans, making him groan and his cock twitch. “I need you inside me. Badly.”

He grabbed your hand.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

You giggled as he pulled you through the crowd.

Javi practically dragged you down the sidewalk, having to walk quickly to keep up with his long strides, the man acting like he was on a mission, his goal to get you back to the room as soon as possible.

The moment you entered the empty hotel elevator, Javi’s mouth was on yours as he blindly hit the button for the fifth floor, walking you until your back hit the wall. You were both so worked up, noses bumping, teeth clattering, his tongue practically down your throat, kissing you desperately. Your fingers tangled in his sweat-damp hair while his hand held the back of your head, the other hitching your leg up onto his hip, pressing into you with his hard cock, straining against his jeans, grinding himself against your wet pussy.

You were aching for him to be inside you, heat pooling wetly in your core, slick dripping down your inner thighs. All your mind could focus on was how badly you wanted him, the alcohol in your bloodstream making you act without a second thought.

“You can fuck me right here,” you said against his lips, your hands moving down to his belt, working it open. “Would be so easy,” pulling his bottom lip between your teeth, Javi groaning.

“Fuck, here, baby?” Javi asked, his hands moving under your dress to grab your bare ass just as uninhibited as you.

“I need you,” your fingers deftly worked the button on his jeans, hearing the teeth part as you pulled down the zipper.

The elevator loudly dinging had you almost jumping out of your skin.

Javi broke the kiss, separating his body from yours, to grab your hand and tug you down the hall to your room, not a care about his state of dress. You soon found yourself with your back pushed against the door, Javi crashing his lips against yours as he fished the keycard from his pocket, blindly wrestling with the reader repeatedly until it finally unlocked. Javi was kissing you thoroughly, passionately, your body melting into him, his strong arms holding you to him as he got the door open and started walking you backward, kicking it shut behind him.

As you moved further in, you kicked off your heels, his hands tugging the top of your dress down your arms, freeing them and making the fabric bunch below your breasts, moving to quickly get your bra off without his lips leaving yours. Your body was hot and heavy with anticipation, excitement swelling when your back hit the bed, Javi on top of you, his kisses searing your lips before his mouth trailed down your jaw, to your neck, kissing and sucking as he went lower, over your chest and finally taking one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. You moaned, helplessly threading your fingers into his hair, your heart beating erratically in your chest, insides clenching down hard from the jolts of pleasure shooting to your cunt. You needed him badly, needed him inside you, it curling inside your gut like red-hot bands, tightening.

“Javi, give it to me already. I want it,” you moaned, practically delirious in your need for him, wanting him with every fiber of your being.

His head came up, eyes lust-blown and a little red from the booze.

“You want it?” He asked, voice dripping with arousal. “You want my cock?”

You nodded your head.

“God, yes!”

“So needy for me,” Javi chuckled, face flushed. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He leaned up to kiss you before he moved off the bed, standing at the edge, and gripping your hips, flipping you easily onto your stomach, as he dragged you down to set your feet on the ground and bent you over the mattress. He shoved the hem of your dress up your waist, displaying your lower half to him as his foot lightly kicked your feet apart to open you wider for him. You moaned as you felt his fingers move through your folds from behind, his other hand grabbing the flesh of your ass and squeezing.

“So fucking wet, Hermosa. You’re dripping.”

One thick finger slid inside your weeping entrance, followed by another, your eyes squeezing shut, trembling, and gasping his name. It felt so fucking good to have something to ease some of the ache, but it wasn’t enough—you wanted more, feeling impatient that he was dragging it out.

“I’m ready. Just fuck me already!” Your tone came out a little sharper than you meant.

His hand left your ass before coming down with a hard smack, moaning as your forehead dropped to the bed, his palm soothing over the stinging skin.

“I’ll fuck you, Hermosa,” his voice was low and full of promise, making you clench. His fingers left your cunt, hearing fumbling behind you, and finally, you felt the tip of his cock sliding through your damp seam, making you moan as he got himself slick with your need. “Gonna wreck this pretty fucking pussy—give you what you want, baby.” He pressed at your entrance and pushed in, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he filled you inch by glorious inch in one smooth thrust, having to bite back a scream at how incredible the stretch felt.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” his words came out rough.

He bottomed out, the rough texture of his jeans flush with the backs of your thighs, feeling so fucking full. Javi’s fingers had a bruising grip on your hips as he pulled almost all the way out and pushed back in, going deeper. Your hands clawed at the bedspread for something to hold onto, feeling him hot, thick, and hard inside you—every vein and ridge rubbing against your walls as he moved in and out, pressing against the spots that had your toes curling.

He started moving in earnest, fucking into you with deep hard strokes that had your brain blanking. Every breath ripped from your throat was a hiccuping moan, your body lighting up, feeling the fire steadily building inside you. Jolts of pleasure were shooting down your spine each time your sensitive nipples rubbed against the blanket.

You were on cloud nine. It was everything you’d wanted, each thrust shoving your hips hard into the mattress, taking what he had to give you, and making your head spin at how good he was making you feel.

You could hear him grunting, the sound of skin hitting skin, your bodies colliding together obscenely—sweat was forming on your brow, the pressure building deep inside you with each slick slide of his cock. You felt yourself getting closer and closer, so worked up, you knew it wouldn’t take much to get you there.

His hand left your hip, getting between you and the mattress to circle your clit, sending sparks of electricity in your core, making you teeter on the edge as you moaned his name, your fingers gripping the bedspread.

“Come on, baby,” his voice was raw, strained. “I know you’re almost there. Hear how fucking wet you are?” You could, his hips slapping against yours wetly, your arousal seeping out and around him. “Come on. Let me have it. Choke my dick. Come for me, baby.”

It didn’t take much more, half a dozen thrusts, and you were cresting, body seizing up, as you came with a shout of his name, the waves of pleasure coursing through your body, removing every thought but Javi from your mind.

“That’s it,” Javi grunted. “My good girl. So, fucking good.”

He kept fucking you through your high, fingers still working to draw out your orgasm, your body tingling, forehead pressed into the mattress, feeling amazing.

Javi leaned over your back to wrap an arm under your chest and pulled you up to stand, the fabric of his shirt touching your skin, his hips continuing to move in and out of you, pressing his mouth to your ear.

“I need one more,” he sounded wrecked, desperate, breaths ragged, and hot against your skin. “Gimme one more. Please, Hermosa. Please, baby, give it to me.”

He sped up his thrusts, continuing to circle your clit, making you moan his name over and over again. You clutched a hand against his arm, the other moving up to push your fingers into his sweat-soaked hair, Javi nipping at your ear as you gripped the brown locks, feeling the thick, wet strands. He rubbed your sensitive bud a little faster, applying more pressure, all of your nerves ablaze, trembling from the onslaught. You were getting close, muscles winding tight and feeling it build deep in your belly, Javi pistoning into you with strong, hard strokes, working you over, and having your eyes rolling back.

You were rocketing towards your end, Javi pulling soft sobs from your lips; it didn’t surprise you when you finally tipped over the edge, that familiar warmth blooming in your belly, exploding with stars behind your eyelids, euphoria burning through your veins, and spreading through your limbs, crying out. Javi’s rhythm stuttered when you clenched hard, your legs going weak, Javi holding you tighter against him to keep you up.

“There we fucking go,” he groaned in your ear. “So good to me. So fucking perfect,” he was rambling, drunk on pleasure, chasing his high with short, strong strokes of his hips into you. “Gonna come, mi amor. Gonna fill you up—fuck it into you so deep, I’ll be in you for days.”

You whimpered at his words, your legs shaking, brain feeling floaty, thoughts sweet and slow in your addled state.

He was grunting in your ear until he pushed in one last time, burying himself as deeply as possible and coming with a rumbling groan vibrating in his chest, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, making you hiss in pleasurable pain. You could feel the wet pulse as he ground his hips, fucking his come as deep as possible like he promised until it became too much, and a pained sound pulled from his throat as he stilled inside you.

With some maneuvering, Javi was able to get you both onto the mattress while staying connected, lying on your sides.

You found yourself drifting off to sleep, the alcohol and orgasms doing you in, Javi’s strong arms wrapped around you, holding you close, a smile on your lips as you let go.

Your eyes were closed, stuck in the limbo between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Someone was speaking to you, your brain feeling like molasses as you tried to understand.

“Cielito,” it was Javi. You’d recognize his voice anywhere. “Is it okay if I take off your dress?”

You hummed in an affirmative and felt the garment being gently removed from your body, Javi carefully moving you how he needed.

“I know you’re tired, baby. I’m gonna pass the fuck out, but I need to clean you up. Is that okay?”

You hummed in agreement again, moments later feeling the cool press of a wet wipe on your face, realizing he was removing your makeup. Once he finished, a warm washcloth was being used on the sensitive skin between your legs, warmth spreading through your body at his care and gentleness.

When he was done, he was moving you under the covers, getting in behind you, his naked skin flush with your own.

Sleep was about to retake you, hearing him yawn.

“Night, mi Cielito,” he whispered, words thick with exhaustion, sounding like he would fall asleep at any second.

You replied with a soft hum.

He settled behind you, pulling you closer to him, and nestling his face in the nape of your neck, kissing the skin once.

Seconds passed, minutes, the room still save for the sounds of you both breathing evenly, your consciousness drifting, slipping away for sleep to claim you.

“Te amo con toda mi alma, mi Cielito,” he said it so quietly you thought you imagined it. “No puedo vivir sin ti.”

Your brain only translated a handful of the words in your sleepy state.

Te amo.

I love you.

Javier Peña loved you.

He started snoring.

“I love you, too,” you whispered.

Spanish translation:

Te amo con toda mi alma, mi Cielito. No puedo vivir sin ti.

I love you with my whole soul, my little love. I can’t live without you.

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