#fuck smoothing it keeps crashing maya

[lovesick-feelin]

i might just keep sending these cos theres so many wonderful ones

willex, 34?

Oh my lord this got away from me I am SO sorry. (I'm not sorry, though, because I had so much fun writing this. Like, wow.) I will get to the other prompts as soon as possible but in the meantime enjoy almost 3k of literally just fluff.

This started as a cute scene in the studio and turned into a study on Willie's obsession with Alex's hands and then suddenly it was a love confession. Oops.

Prompt me! | Read on AO3

=

The first time it happens, Willie chalks it up to nerves.

Alex is new to the whole ghost thing, Willie reasons. He might not still be super comfortable phasing through doors like it’s nothing. It’s been forty years since Willie had any sort of pulse, but he knows it would be pounding right now as he puts on a casual front, swinging his arm forward and then back to grab Alex’s hand.

Alex jumps like he’s been shocked with static electricity, eyes flying down to their joined hands and then back up to Willie’s face. He doesn’t pull away, though, and the tension that appeared in his shoulders is gone as quick as it arrived, and then he smiles, so Willie knows he’s good.

They’ve hung out three or four times since they first met on Sunset Boulevard, and Willie has decided he’s starting a catalogue of Alex’s smiles; this one is new. It’s shyer than the “Grateful You’re Answering My Questions” smile Willie got on the bench, not touched with laughter like the “Oh, This One Time” smile Alex uses when he tells stories about his bandmates. This one is startled, a little awkward, but soft and open, and Willie has a good feeling in his chest that Alex doesn’t share this smile with a lot of people.

Willie knows that if he lets himself keep staring at it, though, it’ll become the “Kissed Right Off My Face” smile, so he tears his eyes away from Alex and tugs them both into the museum, never letting go of his hand.

Somehow they’ve moved from palms clasped to fingers interlocked in the five seconds before they jumped through the doors, and Willie can feel the rough drumstick calluses on Alex’s palms and fingers, some edged with torn skin and others worn to permanence with the passage of time, all now permanently affixed in whatever state they were in when Alex died. There’s a large one right on the pad of Alex’s thumb that keeps brushing over the back of Willie’s hand, smaller ones tucked into the insides of his knuckles, and Willie wants to memorize all of them, all these little reminders that Alex bled and breathed and played music and was alive.

Willie kind of wants to never let go of Alex’s hand ever, but he didn’t drag Alex to this empty museum just to be weird and hold his hand, and Willie’s already caught sight of three different potential jumps that look just sick enough to impress the cute boy to his left, so it’s with some reluctance that he releases his grip on Alex to put his helmet on and cruise the gallery.

Willie finds himself tracing the smooth lines of his own palm later, after Alex leaves, remembering how the calluses felt against his palms and the way Alex gripped his hand, hesitant at first but then with intention, like even if Willie hadn’t grabbed his hand, Alex would have wanted him to.

=

When Willie grabs Alex’s hand at the Hollywood Ghost Club to help launch him over the tables and onto the dance floor, there’s that same initial shock that flies through Alex’s body, but it’s gone too fast for Willie to even be conscious of it, swept away by the adrenaline of the music and the way Alex is smiling at him, looking alive. This is the closest Willie has to any sort of home turf in the afterlife, and Alex is here, eyes lit up under the glow of the stage lights. Willie wants to take the memory of Alex’s face when he got up to dance and etch it frame for frame in stone: Alex’s tongue pressed against the side of his cheek, the way his bandmates cheered and jostled his shoulders but Alex’s eyes stayed on Willie the entire time. Willie didn’t know his cheeks could flush anymore, doesn’t know how it’s possible, but Alex sends him reeling that way, pink and warm and like he’s glowing.

Willie squeezes their hands together briefly, finding the callus on Alex’s thumb and sweeping his touch over it quickly enough to make it seem like an accident, and he swears he hears Alex’s breath catch above the roar of the music, their eyes meeting like an electric charge.

Luke and Reggie find themselves swept away by dance partners right away, and Willie’s just summoning up the courage to grab Alex and show him all the partner dances he knows when a lifer in a steel gray ball gown asks him for directions, and Willie has to show her to the stairs. He ducks and weaves his way through the crowd, laughing with delight as he watches Maya shred on the piano, and then Caleb catches his eye with a flashing grin and jerks his thumb towards the dance floor.

And there’s Alex, being twirled around by Dante, feet flying, and his smile is wide and startled and Willie wants to be the recipient of it so bad it aches. Fuego appears out of nowhere to catch Alex by his other hand, and Willie finds himself bowled over by a wave of ice cold envy, that anyone else should be granted the privilege of Alex’s touch without earning it.

Alex catches his eye and brightens like a fucking sun, beckoning Willie onto the dance floor, but the dancers twirl everywhere and everyone wants to touch Alex and Willie is in stupid, hopeless, maybe-love after knowing this boy for two weeks and it’s all too much, threatening to knock him over, so Willie tries to salvage what’s left of his crumbling foundations and bolts.

=

Willie doesn’t get to hold his hand again until suddenly it might be for the last time ever.

Everything is too fast, too sudden, and Willie doesn’t even get the chance to stop Alex from backing away before suddenly he’s sweeping forward and clutching onto Willie’s shoulders like he’s a buoy in a violent storm. Willie’s brain catches up after a moment. He buries his face in Alex’s neck and Alex smells like springtime, peony and cucumber and rainwater, like things waking up and coming back to life. Willie holds him like a lifeline, like hope of resurrection, and tries not to think about going back to the way things were before, trying to exist around the gaping maw Alex created when he crashed into Willie’s afterlife.

When they pull apart, it's out of some kind of necessity that Willie twines their fingers together. Alex tenses but doesn’t flinch, and Willie wants to ask about it, would ask about it if they had the time they deserved, but they don’t, because the universe is cruel and Willie is selfish and unthinking and so, so in love, and so he doesn’t ask and he settles for squeezing Alex’s hand one more time, memorizing every callus as if the phantom sensation of their hands intertwined might lead him to some sort of healing.

“I’ll see you around, Hot Dog,” Willie says just to watch the blush of indignance color Alex’s cheeks one more time before he forces himself to drop Alex’s hand and skate down the block out of sight. I would have still followed you, Alex had told him on the back of that couch in the Orpheum, face open and vulnerable, the closest he’ll ever come to a confession of what lay between them, and Willie has to force himself not to look back. If Alex could take Willie’s hand and tug him to the other side of whatever limbo this is the way Willie tugged him through those museum doors, Willie would follow him too, because he’d follow Alex anywhere. It just seems like fate has other plans.

=

It turns out, Willie thinks later, standing in the late night dark of the museum with Alex’s callused hands cradling his jaw and their foreheads pressed together, bathed in an impossible golden glow, that fate might just know what she’s doing.

=

“Why do you always do that?”

“Huh?” Alex looks up from the sheet music he’s studying, something Luke had shoved into his hands as he sprinted out of the garage that was just too good for Alex not to read right now. Julie is at school and Luke is with Reggie scoping out new venues for the afternoon, so they’ve got the studio to themselves, the concrete floors bathed in sunlight that turns Alex’s floppy hair to gold. He’s wearing Willie’s favorite shirt, the olive green Bowie one, and his jacket has been abandoned to the back of a chair. Willie is definitely not ogling his arms.

Willie holds up their joined hands before letting them fall again to rest between them on the couch. “Whenever I grab your hand. You, uh, you always flinch a little.”

Alex blinks, setting the sheet music down and suddenly looking self conscious enough that Willie almost regrets saying anything. “Oh. I didn’t realize I was doing it.”

“I didn’t think you did,” Willie says easily, shifting his body to face Alex fully and tucking his feet up underneath him. “Everything okay? We don’t, um,” he continues, fumbling over his words, “if you don’t, like, like holding hands, we don’t have to --”

“No, no, no!” Alex cuts him off quickly. “I like it. Like, a lot. We don’t have to stop.”

“Oh.” Willie knows his face is as pink as Alex’s hoodie. “Good. That’s - that’s good.”

Alex shrugs. “I don’t know why I flinch. Just embarrassed, I guess.”

Here Willie has to pause. “Embarrassed?”

“I guess.”

“About what?”

Alex shrugs awkwardly, bringing his socked feet up onto the couch to hug his knees, their joined hands still tucked between them. “I’ve just always been weird about my hands,” he says, staring at his free hand, Luke’s sheet music forgotten. “I have all those ugly calluses. You know, from my drumsticks. Never liked them.”

Willie can’t help the giggle that bursts out of him, and Alex’s eyes fly to his face. “What?” he asks, mouth quirking up in what Willie’s now categorized as his “I Don’t Know What’s Going On But You’re Cute” smile, and Willie hums.

“Just ironic,” he muses, bringing Alex’s hand up to hold in both of his. “I’ve always loved your calluses.”

It’s Alex’s turn to blush. Willie earns himself a “Museum Date” smile and high-fives himself internally. “Really?” Alex asks, and Willie nods earnestly, turning Alex’s hand over to rest palm up in the cradle of his hands.

“Honestly, man? I’m, like, kind of obsessed with them.” He skims the lightest of touches over the small calluses tucked in the creases of Alex’s fingers and revels in the soft gasp Alex lets out. “Like, you loved something so much,” Willie murmurs, smoothing his thumb over a large one on Alex’s palm below his pointer finger, “that it tethered itself to your soul. Calluses are, like, proof of that passion. You were alive, and you loved this.” Willie reaches with his other hand and traces the edges of the callus on Alex’s thumb. “Even when it hurt you.”

He looks up and Alex is so still in the afternoon sunlight, like he’s suspended in amber. He’s so gorgeous it hurts. “I never thought of it like that,” Alex manages, voice hoarse, and Willie nods, suddenly finding that he can’t speak at all. He brings Alex’s hand up and presses his lips to the pad of his thumb, the seam of his mouth meeting the center of the time-hardened scar. Alex looks like he might faint.

“You really like them,” he breathes, and Willie nods again, not breaking eye contact as he moves, pressing feather-light kisses to the calluses on Alex’s fingers and palm.

“I really like you,” he answers, pulling Alex closer still to kiss the nonexistent pulse on the soft inside of Alex’s wrist. If Willie’s heart still beat it would be pounding out of his chest. Alex goes so easily, like clay in Willie’s hands, and it’s so easy for Willie to take his other hand and draw Alex’s legs out flat on the couch, all guardedness abandoned. Willie slides into his lap, knowing full well that he isn’t fooling anyone, that Alex can feel the way Willie’s breath stutters as he trails kisses to the crook of Alex’s elbow. Alex’s hand falls to the dip of Willie’s waist, the hem of the tie-dye crop slipping up so that Alex’s palm is pressed fully against the bare skin there, and it’s a crime how well it fits, like it was supposed to rest there, like nature intended it.

“I like your hands,” Willie murmurs, and he knows he couldn’t control the words spilling out of his mouth right now even if he wanted to. “I like holding them. I like the way the calluses feel on my palms.” He presses a kiss to Alex’s upper arm where the sleeve of his shirt meets skin, and when he drops it Alex’s other hand flies automatically to the small of Willie’s back, anchoring him like a magnet. Willie meets his gaze and Alex’s pupils are blown wide, eyes so blue Willie could drown in them, and his hands. Willie feels like he’s on fire everywhere Alex is touching him and somehow it isn’t enough.

“I like how steady they get when you play the drums,” Willie hums, steadying himself with two hands on Alex’s chest and dropping a kiss to his shoulder. “I like watching. I love,” and here he kisses Alex’s exposed collarbone, revels in the catch of his breath, “when you twirl your drumsticks. So easy, like you’re not even trying.”

Willie noses up and kisses the curve of Alex’s neck. Alex’s grip tightens on Willie’s waist, head tilting pliantly to the side to give him easier access. “Willie,” he breathes, but he doesn’t need to say anything else. Willie knows.

“I love it when you hold me,” he murmurs, still trailing kisses up Alex’s neck. “I love your hands on my waist, and my back, and my shoulders.” He mouths at Alex’s stupidly perfect jawline, kissing the corner. “I love your hands on my face when you kiss me.” Another kiss pressed to Alex’s cheekbone, just by his ear. “I love when they’re in my hair.”

Alex inhales sharply and then the hand on Willie’s back is skating up to thread itself in his hair, always so careful and gentle and intentional, even now, when Willie’s got him completely undone. Their foreheads are pressed together, breath mingling in the space between them, and Willie kisses Alex’s cheek again, each corner of his mouth, the lightest touch to his cupid’s bow, and the words that have sat inside of him since that day on Sunset Boulevard and maybe since the universe was created, well, they don’t seem so heavy anymore.

“I love your hands,” Willie breathes, everything around them impossibly still, “because I love you. If you can believe it.”

The shaky sigh that Alex lets out is audible, almost a cry, and then he’s kissing Willie, using the hand in his hair to guide the tilt of their heads and slotting their lips together so perfectly that Willie kind of wants to cry. He steadies himself with an arm on the back of the couch and reaches with his other hand for Alex’s arm. Without breaking the kiss Willie guides Alex’s other hand to cup his face, wrapping his own hand around Alex’s wrist and losing himself in the easy give and take of kissing this boy. This boy, who loved Willie so fiercely that he saved his soul, whose touch unravels him like spun sugar, who Willie could spend an eternity with. He will, if Alex will let him, and Willie just thinks he might.

They separate just enough to breathe, eyes closed and foreheads touching. Willie blinks his eyes open first, slowly, and the sight of Alex right there, flushed and radiant and gorgeous, is enough to knock the wind out of Willie’s lungs. He drops his hand from Alex’s wrist to reach up and brush some of the hair off of his forehead, pressing a kiss to his hairline. Alex hums, leaning into the touch, skating his thumb over Willie’s cheekbone before dropping his hand back to the dip of his waist.

“Wow,” Willie says quietly, the first to really break the silence, and Alex huffs out a quiet laugh. He runs his fingers gently through Willie’s hair all the way to the ends, lets his head flop back on the arm of the couch, blue eyes warm and his smile easy and open, and he’s the most beautiful, devastating thing Willie has ever seen.

“I love you too,” Alex says hoarsely, and then clears his throat. “By the way,” he adds, and there’s the rest of the Alex that Willie knows, always a little anxious but never unsure. Willie’s helpless to do anything but lean in and kiss him again, because he loves him. Golden, gentle, awkward, beautiful Alex, who loves Willie so intentionally, who guarded his heart so carefully even when it had already given itself away, who sees Willie for all his mistakes and jagged edges and broken parts and loves him for all of it, on purpose, but still worried over the calluses on his palms as if they made him anything less than perfect.

Alex kisses him back and Willie’s heart sings, and it feels just a little bit like forever.

#asks #prompt fills #jatp #fairylightsandrainydays #i shouldn't even be surprised that i let this get so long #but i hope you like it! #julie and the phantoms #willex #alex mercer #willie jatp #willex fanfiction #isa writes

[outofsstyles]

So much for summer love and saying “us”

a/n: hola! this is my very late fic for @helladirections’s Summer Feeling Challenge!! My prompts were beach + summer rain so yeah! If yall know me you know I could not have miss Taylor release a whole album and not get inspired by it (for this piece particularly it was the song August) so yup this is it. Anyway no more rambling, let me know what you think :)

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: angsty 🤭

Also this takes part after *this blurb* you don’t have to read it to understand but I do recommend it!!

Salt air, and the warm summer breeze messes with your hair. Your fingers get caught on the knots as you run your hands through it, feeling grains of sand lost in the strands, trying your best to untangle it. Even with your attempt to restrain your locks, some still manage to dance along with the wind, whipping in your face in the process, and taking your attention out of the open book resting on your thighs.

With a huff, you pull up your sunglasses from where it rests on your nose, holding your hair back as you use it in a last attempt to repress it. Looking up, now without the darkened vision due to the lenses, you realize the weather has toned down considerably. You pick your phone from where it rests under your legs, pressing the lock button just to check the time and you realize it’s been almost eight hours since everyone first strolled down from the house and settled on the mild pale sand.

Not long ago, the sun was shining proudly in the clear blue sky. It wasn’t as hot as it had been around lunchtime, when you went up to the house to fetch the sandwiches you and Mary made for everyone, almost burning your feet on the heated cobblestone in the process. Instead, it was like a warm hug, a nice contrast to your cooled skin from when you and the rest of the group went out for a swim.

Now, however, the sky was painted in a grayer tone. The sun hiding behind the clouds, no longer shimmering on your skin, reminding you of the rapid approach of summertime.

No else seems to notice (or care) about the change in the weather, really. Maya still reading her book on her beach towel set next to yours, lying on her belly as she flicks through the pages, humming along to the distant song blasting through the speaker. The boys were playing volleyball not too far from where you two lie -- well, at least the best they could with two people on each side. You look in their direction for the first time in the last hour, letting your urges win as your eyes set on the one person you’d been avoiding for the whole day.

The whole week, actually.

It’s been just about a week since your drunk confession to Harry. When you’d said you loved him with your whole chest right as he was about to press play on Coraline. You still cringe at the memory, especially when you recall his reaction, saying it back in the most calculated voice you’d ever seen him use -- you’ve decided he only said it for your sake, as to not make the moment more embarrassing than you’d already made it. He had promised to talk in the morning, but you feel like you can’t be blamed for running away as soon as your eyes fluttered open, and the events of the night prior hit you like a brick in the face.

You feel a pang of guilt about it, of course, for completely avoiding him like you are. Not like it’s a simple task. You live together after all, but you still managed to do it for a whole week. With your term being over, you fell into a routine of meeting with the girls for breakfast in the mornings and hanging around at their flat until the sun was setting and you had to catch the subway before it got too dark. As soon as you got home you’d lock yourself in your room and fall asleep to an episode of Stranger Things.

It was the easiest way, though. Limiting your interactions to a casual ‘Good morning’ or ‘There are some leftovers in the fridge’. No discussion of feelings. No explanation of your remorseful confession. No putting him in the place of having to reject you. No straining in your friendship.

You just pushed back the pain in your heart that came with having to look at his face twice a day and tried your best to ignore him to the best of your abilities.

That is until you couldn’t anymore.

This summer trip has been planned for months now. Since one of your mutual friends explained he’d have his family’s vacation home to himself all summer at a Christmas dinner and wanted to have everyone over for a week or two. It was exciting, of course, having a two weeks getaway with your group of friends seemed like the perfect idea to start your summer break on the right foot. What you’d never expect was that by the time the trip came along the last you’d want was to be in the same house as Harry without having anywhere else to run to.

Sighing, you gaze back at your forgotten book, your eyes sweeping over the words, not able to fully concentrate on them. And just as you give up, opening your mouth to announce you’re joining Mary in the house, a ball hits the spot just below your feet, making the sand around it jump and a small squeal to leave your lips.

You reach for it, leaning forward to hold it in your hands before looking up at the presence approaching you. It’s hard not to feel the jolt in your heartbeat as you meet his jade eyes, there’s almost a hesitance to his steps as he gets closer. You force a smile to tug on your lips as you hand him the ball, ignoring the electric hush that shoots down your spine when your fingers brush just slightly -- it’s the first time you’ve touched him in a week.

“Thanks.” It comes out rushed and you almost miss it. You think he’ll turn around and join the game again but he lingers for a moment, expecting you to say something.

You simply nod, not sure what to say, and that sends him back to where the rest of the boys are waiting for him. It’s hard not to stare as he walks away, the muscles of his broad back moving with him, skin tanned and a bit reddened around the shoulders. If things were normal, you’d have made him put on sunscreen after going for a swim, knowing how easily he gets sunburnt, and you’d pester him for not listening to you once he asked you to help apply the moisturizer that soothes the pain. You’d smooth your hands on his skin and spread kisses along his neck when he flinches as you rub a sore spot. You’d be mindful not to drag your nails through it once he had you under him, panting his name as his head rests between your thighs.

Looking back down at the cover of The Shining, you shake your head at yourself. Things are not normal, and they probably never will be again.

“I don’t even recognize you two anymore.” Maya’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. She closes her book, setting it down on her towel as she looks up at you from behind her sunglasses.

“What do you mean?” You run your eyes from the stare, choosing to gaze at the ocean instead, noting the way the waves are crashing closer to where you lay than they were in the morning.

“You know what I mean.” She shifts to lie on her back, propping herself up on her elbows. “Ignoring him like this is not the solution you know.”

You sigh, fidgeting with the loose strands at the hem of your towel. “I know.”

“You’re just hurting him.” She presses further, taking her sunglasses off and letting it fall on her stomach.

You look at her, eyes silently begging for her to drop this conversation but you know now that she’s brought it up she won’t let go easily. “Maya--”

“It’s the truth, and you have to hear it.” She sits up fully, turning to face you as she crosses her legs. “How long do you plan to keep going like this? You can’t just avoid him forever.”

“I-- I don’t know.” You say honestly, adjusting your glasses on top of your head nervously as you trow a quick look to his direction, making sure he’s still occupied with the game.

“Talk to him.”

You shake your head. “It’s not that simple.”

“Well, it’s what they say, life is not simple, darling.” She argues, “You’re hurting with this just as much as he is.”

Your shoulders drop, just barely, hating how well she knows you. “But not for the same reasons.”

“Really?” Maya’s voice pitches as she tilts her head. “How so?”

“He doesn’t see me like that.”

“You don’t know that.”

Looking up, you take a deep breath, feeling your throat tightens. “But I do know that, Maya.”

“You don’t.” She says softly, leaning forward to reach for your hand. “He loves you.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t--”

“It’s true...” She squeezes your hand, shifting closer so she can rest her head on your knee, eyes searching for yours. “You’ve slept with him every single weekend, for... What? The past year?”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” You wipe away a stubborn tear that slides down your cheek. “You don’t love all the men you fuck.”

“Well I don’t live with them, thank god.” She tries to humor, her smile still tender as she rubs her thumb on your hand.  “You two don’t just fuck, you know that, babe.”

You let out an exhale, chewing at your inner cheek as you let the sounds of the waves and the whistle of the wind fill the air between you two. She’s right, even if you hate to admit it, you can’t go like this for much longer. As easy as it is to ignore your feelings, you know they’re still there, and at some point, you’ll have to face them. The longer you wait, the worse it will be. But you can’t help but feel like any chance of fixing it has slipped through your fingers already. Your relationship with Harry - whatever that was - seems so distant now it’s like an image you can see but can’t quite reach. And it’s all your fault.

Maya sighs after a beat too long of silence, squeezing your hand, “Talk to him, please.”

“I--” you start, but you’re interrupted as thin raindrops begin drizzle from the sky.

It’s gentle, a summer rain clearing the warm air that hugs you with cold drops running down your skin. You and Maya jolt up from where you sit, quickly gathering your towels and patting them against your skin to get rid of some of the sand that stuck to it. Thankfully, Mary took the rest of your belongings with her when she went back to the house, so you don’t have to bother with them as you wrap your towel over your head, hugging your book close to your body so it doesn’t get ruined by the droplets of water. You can hear the commotion behind you from the boys as they interrupt the game, but you don’t turn around, only rushing towards the few steps that lead to the house in search of a cover.

The cobblestone is slippery as you jog in the patio barefooted, and you have to mindful as not to slip down and make matters worse to you with a broken back. But you manage to make it to the covered area without any accidents, thankfully, your feet only sliding slightly against the floor. The double glass doors that lead to the living room are slid open, and you can see Mary sitting on the L shaped couch inside, scrolling through her phone.

She peeks up at you when you approach the door, Maya coming not too far behind you. “Leave your dirty towels on the chairs outside, I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

You do as she says, hanging the towel on one of the rattan chairs arranged in a semi-circle next to you. Mary appears on the doorframe, leaning against it as she crosses her arms under her chest. She’s no longer dressed in her teal bikini set, one you’d complimented as soon as you saw her wearing it. Instead, she’s in some pink pajama shorts, hugging a cream ribbed cardigan close to her body as a rougher strand of wind rips around. Her hair is damp and pushed back behind her ears, you reckon in the short time she was alone in the house she must’ve taken a shower. Which is probably something you should do as well, you think.

Before you can walk inside, though, someone calls you out from behind you. Turning around, you see as the boys approach the house in much less of a hurry you had been in. You find the voice that screamed for you belongs to Declan as he’s leading the rest of them, a taunting smirk painting his face.

“Are you two made of sugar or what?” The words all but stumble out of his mouth and you have to suppress a giggle, he’s probably still drunk from the numerous White Claws they’d consumed throughout the day.

You shake your head. “I’m not trying to get a cold, thank you very much.”

“You’re no fun.” He stops just before entering the covered area, the rain still pouring on his body as he wiggles his hips. “C’mon loosen up a bit.”

You take a step towards him, opening your mouth to bite back but before any word can come out he’s reaching for your arm, drawing you to him. “Declan, no!” You giggle, trying to set yourself free from his grasp but he starts walking backward, pulling you with him. “Stop!”

His other hand that’s not wrapped on your arm is holding the Bluetooth speaker, waving it over his head as he presses his thumb on the volume button, turning it up. Starships starts blasting in the air, blending with the sound of raindrops hitting the ground. You can barely contain your laugh now, wondering how in hell this song even ended up on his playlist. Declan takes the opportunity to fully pull you out in the rain, hugging his arm on your waist and moving his hips along to the beat, bumping it against yours.

He points at Mary who’s still leaning against the door frame, watching the scene with an amused grin.  “I know you love this one.”

“Not a chance Dec.” She calls back from where she stands, earning a loud ‘boo’ from the boy.

His arm doesn’t leave you side as he keeps moving along to the song, his voice slurring the lyrics so loudly next to you it almost swallows the sound coming from the speaker. The drops tickle down your skin, as the rain pours down your body, soaking you as if you’d just dove into the ocean. Your hair is weighing down on your head, and you reach up to push it out of your forehead as you try to follow Declan’s moves but he starts jumping around, making it harder for you.

You watch as Maya decides to join in, skipping to her boyfriend. Looking over your shoulder, you notice the rest of the boys haven’t gone inside and are still standing in the rain, much like Declan. You’re still laughing, almost incredulously, at the scene unfolding in front of you. Seemingly, it’s a clear consequence of the alcohol still very much present in their bloodstreams. But as a sober observer, you can’t help but giggle at the sight of four shirtless men barely keeping their balance as they dance along to Nicki Minaj.

Once the last chorus comes up, Declan unwraps his arm from your waist, reaching for your hand and without much notice spins you around. You stumble on your feet at the sudden move, trying your best to keep yourself from falling down. He doesn’t give you a second to recompose, repeating the move once more, but just as you’re turning around, he lets go of your hand. Without anything to hold on to and keep you steady, your feet slide on the wet stone.

There’s a brief sense of panic that strikes on your body as you feel yourself falling back. But before you can hit the ground, a set of arms catch you, holding on to you a bit awkwardly. You don’t need to look behind you to know who they belong to, the ink hugging his skin being all too familiar to you. Harry’s chest is damp against your back, and his arm is draped around your stomach, the contact of his skin against yours almost burning as you become aware of it.

With his help, you quickly stand back on your feet, untangling yourself from him as soon as you’re on your feet again. Turning around, you don’t miss the way his face is scrunched in a frown, a crease set between his brows and lips tugging downwards. It tugs at your heartstrings, so you give him a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” he nods.  

For a moment you just look at him, lips parted, feeling as if you should say something else. It’s way too similar to the interaction you had only a few moments ago down at the beach. Or more like all the other interactions you had for the past week, really. His eyes are searching for yours, asking a thousand questions that are left unspoken. Lingering in the air between the two of you. His hand reaches to push back a damp lock of his hair stuck to his forehead, you note how his usually hazelnut strands have taken a darker shade. Much like his tattoos, standing out on his skin, glimmering as the raindrops dance freely down his body.

You know it’s been a beat too long of silence for it to start feel a bit awkward. And can’t help but set a silent prayer for something, anything, to take you out of this situation. You wonder if it would be too bad to just turn around now and pretend nothing happened, pondering if it’s the best decision to run away once again. Thankfully, as if on cue, a thunder roars in the sky, interrupting your thoughts as you squeal, jumping slightly, startled. A chorus of curses follow up from behind you, the rain starting to shower rougher from above.

“Okay that’s enough fun in the rain, everyone back inside now!” Mary screams from her spot, motioning with her hands for everyone to leave the outdoors.

“You must be really fun at parties, sweetheart!” Declan shouts back, you notice he’s managed to go all the way around the pool.

“Unless you’re feeling like getting hit by lightning from dancing next to a pool, I suggest you all come inside now.” She yells with a roll of her eyes, her voice taking a stern tone. “I’m not cleaning up anyone’s body for being stupid.”

He lets out a mischievous laugh, jumping his way around the edge. “Okay, mom.”

The towel scratches on your skin slightly, due to the grains of sand still stuck to it, as you try to dry yourself to the best of your ability. In the background, you can hear whines coming from Maya, complaining about not being able to have a bonfire tonight. You linger long enough to hear someone suggest a movie night instead. But as they begin the discussion of a film choice, you’re soon walking past the double glass door and into the house. Wanting to tuck yourself inside your room as soon as possible.

At this moment you give yourself a mental pat in the back for choosing the only room located downstairs. Regardless of it being the smallest, thus being the easiest one to claim, it was an easy choice for you. Not only you’re the furthest from the other rooms (and being on vacation with a couple, that’s a big pro) but you also have a bathroom all to yourself. Of course, it can barely fit two people inside if it came to it - not that it will - but you don’t mind the narrow space. On top of it all, you’re the closest to the ocean. Meaning that, when you’re drifting to sleep, it’s almost as if the waves are crashing at the end of your bed instead of the cool nightly sand, meters away from where you lay. So soothing you can easily ignore the creak of the wooden steps of the stairs right next to your door every time someone feels like coming down for a midnight snack.

The same creak that you hear as you pace your way on the light oak floor, careful to avoid the rugs that come on your way as to not soak their fabrics. And soon enough, you’re alone in the small space you get to call your own for the week. Away from any potential awkward interactions or silent pleas. The loudest noise filling the air being the raindrops knocking on your windows and your thoughts swallowing you whole.

You don’t rush on your shower. Letting the warm water run through your body in a smooth massage, allowing your muscles to relax as you breathe in the coconut-scented steam surrounding you. It does help to soothe you a little, but the weight in your chest still makes itself present.

Leaving the bathroom hugged in your comfiest set of pajamas, you make your way out of the room. As you enter the living area, you notice Mary sitting alone in the same spot she was on the couch, leaning back on the cushions and scrolling on her phone. Her eyes peak up once you approach her, letting the device fall to her chest when you come to a stop at the end of the couch.

“Everyone still in the shower?” You ask.

“Yup,” she nods, picking her phone back up. “Boys left a wreck for you in the kitchen, good luck with it.”

You huff, already regretting volunteering for the cleaning up duty today. Turning on your heals, you make your way towards the archway leading to the kitchen.

“We’re watching Mamma Mia later, by the way!” You hear Mary call out from behind you. “If you wanna make popcorn, I won’t be opposed.”

Throwing her a look over your shoulder, you shake your head as you look at her face, puppy eyes illuminated by the screen of her phone and lips pursed in a pleading pout. You disappear in the kitchen without giving her an answer -- even though you both know you’re also not opposed to the idea of it.

Analyzing the scene you’re met with, hands coming up to rest on your hips, you realize it’s not as bad as Mary made out to be. It’s messy, sure, but manageable. The cooler lies on top of the counter, a puddle pooling around it, and lid crooked on top as someone probably didn’t bother to close it properly. A couple of dishes from lunch still sit inside the sink, waiting to be washed, but not enough for them to pile on top of each other.

You start with them, humming along to a beat that’s been stuck in your head but you can’t quite put a finger on it as you rinse the plates until they’re shimmering clean, the white porcelain reflecting the ceiling light. It doesn’t take you long to get through all of them, lining them on the rack that sits right next to the sink. As soon as you’re finished, you turn your attention to the cooler, taking the lid off completely so you can check the inside. The ice that filled the box has completely melted, as you expected, pooling at the bottom of it. A couple of empty cans, amongst filled ones, float on top of the water.

Picking them up, you try to fit all of them in your hands as to make a single trip to the bin. When you manage to do it, you give one last check inside to see if you missed any. You look up from it at the same time that Harry steps through the archway into the kitchen space. The sudden appearance makes you stop midstep. He also seems to be taken back by your presence, stopping on his track as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. The pang in your heart doesn’t fail to make itself present once again.

He’s fiddling with a water bottle in his hands. Much like you, he’s probably already taken a shower, now dressed in a pair of ash grey sweats and a graphic white tee -- your favorite one, with a blue cartoonish drawing of a smiley bee in the middle and the words “Enjoy health, eat your honey” circling it. Your lips twitch in a smile as you take notice of it. It’s the shirt you love to steal from his closet in hopes of him not missing it, even though he does every time it happens, but still lets you do it cause he says it looks better on you anyway.

He realizes where your gaze has gone, peeking down at his clothes. The smile that takes over his lips, even if small, helps to soothe the knot in your stomach.

Clearing his throat, he breaks the silence this time, voice coming out a bit hesitant. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You nod.

There’s another beat of silence before both of you realize what you’d been doing before being interrupted by the other. And as if on cue, you start walking almost coordinated, crossing your paths as he makes his way to the sink and you reach the bin across the room. You can hear the tap opening and the water filling the inside of his bottle. As you turn to walk back to the counter you watch his broad back facing you, his hair curling at the base of his neck and you can tell he’s looking at the dish rack.

“Did you wash the dishes?” He says, peeking at you from over his shoulder. You meet his gaze, nodding once again as you watch him turn the tap off, turning around as he closes the cap of his bottle. “Shouldn’t have done it all by yourself, you know, could’ve helped you.”

“It was fine.” You reassure with a shrug, placing your hands on the cooler, looking for something to do as you feel him staring.

He stays quiet for a moment, but you can almost hear the wheels in his head turning above the light tapping sound of raindrops outside. You keep your eyes fixed on the cans as you begin taking them out of the cooler, even when you hear him call out your name, only offering a light hum to let him know you’re listening. “Do you, uhm--” He pauses, sighing as you keep yourself focused on the task in hand. “Do you think we can talk?”

You take a sharp inhale, coughing slightly to cover it up as you move the lid to close the container. Chewing on your lip, you keep your eyes trained on your hands as you rest them on the counter, not ready to face what you’ve been so desperately pushing back. Still, you remember what Maya said to you earlier, and you know you can’t keep running away.  “Sure.”

“Love,” his voice comes out pained, tightening a lump that’s forming on your throat. “Can you at least look at me?”

You meet his gaze, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks as you meet his eyes. “Harry--”

He shakes his head slightly, shoulder dropping. “‘S killing me.”

A mesh of voices interrupts your conversation before you can even process what he just told you. You can tell by the sounds of the steps along with the creak of the wooden floor that they’re coming down the stairs. Turning your head, you try to listen closely to foresee if they’re about to enter the kitchen or not. They get louder as they approach, but you can tell they stopped at the living room when Mary’s voice joins the conversation. Harry’s watching you, but the crease settled between his brows tells you he’s also paying attention to the chatter happening outside.

“Maybe we should talk after the movie.” You say after a moment of trying to figure out the loud chatter in the next room.

“Can you meet me in my room?”

“Maybe at mine?” You suggest.  “It’s just more… secluded from the rest, I guess.”

“Okay.” He nods. “After the movie, then.”

The rest of the night blends together as a bit of a blur if you’re honest. And not due to the poorly made strawberry cocktail you have in your hands -- considering you haven’t had more than a sip off of it, and, thankfully, everyone else seems to be too buzzed to notice your untouched cup. No, it’s all thanks to the anxious feeling that has been eating you from the inside out since your brief conversation with Harry. For what seems to be the hundredth time in the past hours you feel your eyes wandering back to him. He’s fiddling with his filled drink, leg bouncing nervously as he leans back on his seat. As if he can feel your eyes set on him, he glances up, meeting your gaze with a raise of his brows.

It’s a simple gesture but you understand the silent question that comes with it, wondering when you’ll be able to sneak out to your room. You had thought that throughout the movie the rest of them would slowly get knocked out, feeling the long day under the sunlight weight on their eyelids, allowing you to settle back in your room without causing any commotion. Surely, Mary was snoring quietly next to you within the first chorus of Honey Honey. But seems like you underestimated everyone else’s capacities of staying awake, for as soon as the end credits were scrolling up on the screen, Declan was up on his feet to suggest a cocktail night.

So here you are, a wink past midnight, watching your friends stumble on their feet at, yet another, Just Dance battle, barely able to understand a single word slurring drunkenly out of their mouths.

You hold Harry’s gaze for a moment, pursing your lips as you ponder how to slip out for the night. Mary’s still sitting next to you, her body relaxed so deep into the cushions it’s like she’s swallowed by it. Her head has fallen back, chest moving along lazily with her breaths, if it wasn’t for the occasional blinks, you would’ve assumed she’d fallen asleep once again. You lean forward, setting your filled glass on the mahogany center table before turning back to her.

“Tired?” You ask.

Her head falls heavy on her shoulder as she looks at you, a small smile tucking on her lips when she nods. “If they decide to take out UNO, I swear to god…”

“I don’t think they ever sleep if I’m honest.” You chuckle just as the last few chords of Sugar come to an end. The sound of the boys’ laughs takes over the brief silence that set in the room, their chatter mixing with the sounds of the wind shaking the glass on the now-closed doors that lead outside. Shifting closer to your friend, you lower your voice just enough for her to hear it, “Feel like now’s the best chance to call it a night.”

“You know,” she sighs. “That was probably the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

You smile, sparing one last look to Harry, only to find him still watching you. Giving him a small nod, as to let him know your intentions, you scoop to the edge of the couch, standing up with a big stretch.”Okay, guys think my bed’s calling me.”

“What?” Maya’s voice yelps on top of the chorus of protests. “But I was about to get my Twister mat!”

“Some of us need to sleep.” Mary’s voice speaks up as she shifts to get up from her cozy spot, her movements much more lethargic than yours. “Shocker, I know.”

You hear echoes of objections and teasing mumbles but don’t really register their words, only sparing a final wave to the group before making your way towards your room. You make a quick stop at the bottom of the staircase, binding Mary a goodnight and watching her for a moment as she ascends the steps, dragging her feet lazily on the groaning wood. Once you finally make it to your door, it takes everything in you not to glance over your shoulder. The back of the chair he’s sitting is facing you, but you wonder if your eyes will meet once again. If he’s searching for yours as desperately as your searching for his.

You don’t look, though. Closing the door behind you as fast as you open it. As if the barrier between you two will somehow help dull the aching in your chest that’s now growing stronger with the realization that you have nowhere to hide from your feelings anymore. Taking deep breaths, you back away until the back of your thighs meet the smooth fabric of the blue comforter hugging your mattress, crossing your legs as you sit back on it.

The room is dark, as you didn’t bother turning on the lights when you first walked in, the only illumination coming from outside, due to your curtains still being pushed open. Thankfully, the rain from earlier is long gone, clearing the night sky so the moon can shine proudly and fully amongst the sea of stars dotted around it. It gives the space a silver glow, giving you an odd sense of calmness as you look out the big window across the bed. The whispers of the wind are still loud against the tree branches, as well as the waves crashing angrily at the shore. Still, the sounds of nature do nothing to quiet down the laughs that come from the other side of the door, even if faint, they’re still loud, and it snaps your attention back to the reason why there’s an anxious twist set in your stomach.

It feels like hours have passed of you sitting alone, chewing at the nail on your thumb, feeling your thoughts drowning you. Every so often your eyes dart to the door, waiting for a creak of steps or a soft knock. But every time you’re met with silence, the door still closed, almost mocking your nervousness. You wonder if he’s given up, you know he hasn’t forgotten about it, there’s no way he would, but maybe he just realized there’s no reason on fighting for whatever’s left between you two. Or maybe he’s just giving you a taste of your own medicine. Letting you sink in the silence and doubt until it floods every cell of your body. Or maybe he’s just trying to find the words to reject y--

The moment you fall back to your cushions, the lump in your throat becoming suffocating at this point, a sound you’ve been waiting for breaks you out of your mind: a quick knock followed by the door opening. The lights of the hallway creep in the room along with Harry, as he pokes his head in.

“Come in.” You clear your throat when your voice comes out in a whisper. Watching as he opens the door wider, just enough to fit the rest of his body, shutting it behind him with a click. You shift a bit, motioning to the spot on the bed in front of you as you try to untie the knot that tightens in your chest.

“Sorry it took me so long,” He sits in front of you. “They really insisted on playing a round of that fucking game.”

“It’s fine.” You give him a weak chuckle. “I was just…” You trail off, shrugging as your eyes set on your lap. “I don’t know, thinking, I guess?”

He nods. “Yeah, I was thinking, too.”

“So…”

“So,” You can feel his eyes searching for yours, so you glance up. There’s a crease set between his brows, his whole body tensed as he chews on his bottom lip. “How do we even start this?”

“I don’t know.” You answer truthfully, trying to find the words to explain everything that’s been flowing in your mind for the last week. But before anything, you know you owe him an apology, so you sigh, the words slipping out of your mouth shakier than you’d intended. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to apologize.” He says in a blink, shaking his head softly. His voice is low, but tender, “I want to understand what happened.”

“I--” The crack in your voice makes you exhale in frustration, blinking rapidly as you look up at the ceiling, focusing on the pattern of shadows cast due to the moonlight slipping through the tree branches outside. You don’t want to cry.  “I don’t even know, just…” Taking a deep breath you meet his eyes again, knowing there’s no reason to beat around the bushes anymore. “That night, I was so embarrassed.”

“Why?”

“Cause I was drunk and--” You rub your hands over your face, wandering your eyes anywhere but on him. No need to beat around the bushes, you think again, you should just go straight to the point.  “And I had a stupid breakdown after kissing someone else.” “

“It wasn’t stupid, lo--” He cuts himself off, and you’re sure if it wasn’t for the loud thumping of the wind he could hear the crack of your heart from where he sits. “Your feelings aren’t stupid.” You watch as he looks down at his lap, fingers fidgeting with the string of his sweats as he shuts his eyes tight. “But you didn’t have to shut me off.”

The emotion behind his words is so clear, even with the darkness surrounding you, that you can’t help but scoop closer to him, hesitantly reaching your hand to rest on his shoulder. “I know.”

“Do you know how much it killed me to have you not even look at my face?” He looks up again, his waterline glossy, pooling with tears, only twisting the knot that’s settled in your chest. When he speaks again, it’s just above a whisper, “It’s like I lost you.”

You’re not sure why is it that as soon as the words leave his mouth you recoil from him. His declaration feeling nearly unfair to you, only serving as for increasing your frustration at the whole situation in hand. So you can’t help as to increase your voice slightly, a pinch of anger hidden behind it.  “Well I’m not--” You stop yourself as it comes out louder than you’d intended, the annoyance quickly dissolving into pure sadness as you register what you’re about to say. “I wasn’t yours for you to lose, Harry.”

The breath he takes is audible, your words hitting him like a brick. He nods, more to himself than to you, shrugging slightly as he looks dows at the wrinkles on the comforter, the empty space between the two of you. “Maybe I want you to.”

You blink at him, lips parting as it takes you a second to understand what he just said. “What?”

“You didn’t even give me a chance.”

“I’m sorry.” You can’t help but repeat yourself, unable to control the tear that trickles down your cheek. Sniffling, you rub it out, “I was just…”

“Scared?” He finishes as you trail off, now it’s his turn to shift closer to you, hand cupping your cheek as he caresses another tear that trails down your skin.

“Yeah.”

“I’m scared too, baby.” The petname slips off his tongue, sending a spark of electricity down your spine and tugging a smile on your lips. You don’t hold back anymore, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and tucking your head at the base of his neck. Breathing in, the familiar scent of his shampoo mixes with the faint whiff of his cologne, and even a hint of sunscreen. It hits you all at once, how much you missed the closeness to him, the feeling of his arms wrapped around your middle, and the softness of his lips pressed on the side of your head. His voice is muffled by your hair, “Hate that we’re like this.”

“I hate it too.” You nod against his neck, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to, H.”

“Shh, I know.” His hand comes up to massage your hair, the action so loving your hands grab at his shirt trying to pull him even closer. “We can fix this, though, okay? Me and you?”

“Yes.”

“No running away anymore.”

“I promise.” You fall silent for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s embrace. When you feel him press another kiss at the side of your head, you pull away, just enough to lock your eyes on his. “Harry?”

“Yes, love?”

“Can you stay tonight?”

“Course.” He brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “Can stay every night you want me to.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb

[talpup]

I just found read your crossroads fic over on Ao3, and damn sweetheart, I am in LOVE with this classy mob styled version of Overhaul you have going on. The smut in that last chapter was abso-fucking-lutely to die for! But I really need to know something about his character in this story. He was obviously a virgin, but r there any specific kinks he’s been thinking about or planning on trying with her?

*blush* THANK YOU!!!  You can blame my good friend and favorite Kai fanfic author @inorganicone2230 They’re the one that spurred me into having the idea for this fic and then (like they’ve done with all my bnha fics) encouraged me to write it and brainstormed with me.

Yes, Kai was a virgin. Though his skill level might test some folks suspension of disbelief (something I try not to do too much in my fics, even though I write mostly fantasy).

Kai’s kinks in this fic might be fairly tame by our standards.  But it is a 1920′s era au fic.  Don’t really know if they’re kinks; but Kai would love to spank Maya then bend her over his desk and…

...so I don’t know if you saw my post.  But I decided to do a short smutty scenario thanks/inspired by this ask.  So here you go.  Sorry it’s so short.  Between having my ‘poison juice’ (aka infusion) last Friday and unexpected visitors yesterday and the day before I’ve been kinda wiped.

FYI this little scene would take place after things settled a bit from the last and (eventual) upcoming chapter.

WARNINGS: spanking, non-con, creampie, cockwarming;  Please remember, this fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.  For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Promised Pleasure

Removing his dust mask as Maya entered his office, Kai frowned at her attire. “That’s not what I told you to wear today.”

Maya’s shoulders tensed.  She foolishly hadn’t expected her choice of clothes to be an issue.  She should've known better.  Still, her pride wouldn’t let her apologize.  And she knew Kai would sniff out any lie.

Deciding a gently put truth was best, she stepped further in his office.  “I felt like wearing this.”

Kai’s golden eyes narrowed.  She was testing boundaries again.  And her testing was trying his temper.  “Close the door please, my Dear.”

Despite the politeness of the ask, a shiver ran up Maya’s spine.  Mouth suddenly dry, she turned and closed the door with a shaky hand.

“Lock it.”  Kai ordered, voice taking on a twinge of sharpness.  He had called her in here hoping for a nice diversion.  But with his beautiful girl acting so spiteful he would have to resign himself to giving her a lesson.

Maya’s hand paused on the door.  The hair on the back of her neck prickled.

“Maya. Lock the door, Darling.  You know how I dislike repeating myself.”

The slow scrape of the lock setting in place deafened Maya to everything but her ragged breathing and thundering heart.  She didn’t hear Kai’s next words.  So when she turned back around, it was to find him looking more annoyed then ever.

Smothering her nerves, Maya met Kai’s piercing gaze head on.  “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

Unlacing his fingers, Kai sat back.  “I told you to come here.  This is the second time I’ve had to repeat myself.  I won’t do so again.”

Maya shuffled hesitantly toward Kai’s desk.

Kai pushed back and slightly turned the chair he was sitting in.  “This side.  Come around near me.”

She moved around the desk, stopping a couple paces from his spread legs. Skin prickling under the caress of his roving gaze, her breath caught glimpsing the bulge in his pants.

At least Kai always brought her pleasure.  Unlike the disgusting landlord who had used her and left without care or glance after.  Kai always made her feel special.  Beautiful.  Loved.  In those moments of heated bliss she lost herself and forgot she was doing this solely for justice for her brother.  Basking in Kai’s twisted affection and the delightful pleasure he gave she’d start to believe she truly cared for him in return.  That they could make something of this.  Possibly enter a real relationship that wouldn’t end when he did as he promised and saw those who killed her brother put down.

Maya stared at the tailored suit jacket hanging over the back of Kai’s chair.  Anything to avoid seeing the twitching cock in his pants.

“Why don’t you serve me some water and unbutton my vest for me, Sweetheart.”

It wasn’t a question, or even a suggestion.  Maya knew well enough it was an order.  But with Kai’s honeyed tone and adoring gaze it was easy to trick her mind into believing there would be no consequences for disobedience.

Turning over a heavy tumbler that sat on a silver tray at the end of his desk, she took up the crystal carafe and poured.  Setting the glass in front of him, her fidgeting hands fell to her side, smoothing her skirt.

Her delay in following his second commend had Kai rising to his feet. Maya stepped back even as she hurriedly reached for his vest, seeking to rectify the offense.  Kai grabbed her wrist before she touched him.

Maya grimaced at the too tight grip.  “I’m sorry.  I--”

Kai pulled her roughly against him.  Maya stumbled, heels catching on the plush area rug.  She fell against his chest.  His expensive cologne assaulted her nose.  She loved the smell but hated smelling it as she only got a whiff when Kai had her in his space.

Suddenly gentle, Kai’s strong arms steadied her.  “Careful, Sweetheart. We don’t want you hurting yourself.”  He caressed her cheek, brushing the hair out of her face with a tenderness that didn’t match the blazing fire in his amber eyes.

Maya held perfectly still, struggling not to flinch. The way Kai flipped from loving and sweet to caustic and hurtful on a penny dime was what frightened her most about him.

Smiling, Kai’s head dipped.  “You’re so beautiful, Darling.  So soft and beautiful.”

His tender lips graced hers in a chaste kiss.  Maya’s lashes fluttered closed accepting the kiss, thinking she had escaped his anger.  Her body jerked at a sudden tug.  The sound of something ripping rang out in the room.  A sudden cold strike of air hit her front torso pebbling her nipples.

Maya’s eyes shot open with a gasping cry.  Kai had rent her blouse and camisole open.

“If you refuse to wear what I tell you to.  Maybe you should be left with nothing to wear at all.”

“Kai… I’m--”

Kai cupped her cheek.  “I don’t want to hear it, Sweetheart.  You apologize and apologize but keep on going astray from the clear, defined rules I’ve set.  My love for you has seen me be more than patient.  But I’m afraid my patience has come to an end.”

Maya stumbled again, her world spinning as she was quickly turned and shoved down against the desk.  The glass of water she served slid off the surface and fell to the floor.  It’s crash accentuated Maya’s surprised cry.  Mind reeling, she didn’t feel the splash of water soak her hose.

“Ka—ah!” She broke off with a scream, senses assaulted by the sound of her tearing skirt.  The cold hard desk against her breast and torso and Kai’s painful grip on the back of her neck.  Her nose burned, eyes watering from the lingering smell cleaner that clung to the polished surface.

Hand still holding her down, Kai dropped her ruined skirt.  His freed hand slid over the silky slip she worn.  So soft, he mused.  But not anywhere as soft as the flesh beneath.  That covering was pulled down along with her panties.

“Kai! What are you--”  Maya broke off with another shouted cry.

The crack of his hand hitting her ass echoed about the room.  Maya’s back arched at the blooming fire but was roughly pushed back down against the desk.

“Stay, my Love.  You wouldn’t want to upset me further and earn yourself another lesson after this.”

Wiping tears from her eyes, Maya tried to look back at him.  For a moment she swore she saw a horrid bird-like beast in place of her handsome tormentor.  But the monstrous vision was gone quicker than she could blink.

“Le—le—lesson?” She stammered.

“For continually testing your bounds.”  Kai leaned forward, low rasp tickling her ear.  “I’m afraid this will hurt, my Dear.  But know, that it will hurt me to do it more than it’ll hurt you.”

Ass still stinging from the first spank Maya doubted that.  By the third strike she was certain Kai enjoyed it and was glad for the chance to discipline her supposed disobedience.  Confirmation of his delight came when he paused after the fourth hit and ran a hand over her blazing butt-cheeks.

Kai’s fingers traced the red marks, trailing over the rising welts.  He loved Maya’s perfect, soft skin.  But there was a possessive pride in seeing her flesh temporarily marred by the work of his hand.  It sparked something primal in him, turning his tender caress into a rough, digging grope.  She was beautiful, his beloved.  A perfect little darling that would fit so well beside him in the new wholesome world he was working to usher in.  Or at least she would be once she learned to listen and obey without hesitance or question.

No one but him could touch her.  Certainly no one else was allowed to see her in such a weakened and debauched state.  Kai growled at the thought, fingers digging into the meat of her ass.  He would gouge the persons eyes out.  Cut out their tongue, and break their knees and fingers.  Then grant them a slow, painful death for having seen his darling like this.  Because this…  His other hand loosened and trailed down her neck, slinking around her side to cup her breast, reveling in the weight as she lifted a bit thinking they were done.   ...this was for him, and him alone.   His throbbing dick ground against her raw ass.

Maya’s lips pressed together between clenched teeth, biting back a cry at the burning pain.  Halfway into righting herself her back bumped Kai’s chest.

Weight rested on his hand planted to her side on the desk, Kai’s chin hooked over her shoulder.  “Think you’ve learned your lesson, Beautiful?”

Breast heaving with a shuddering breath, Maya nodded.

“Doesn’t appear so.  You know how I prefer worded responses.”

“Yes!” Maya expelled.  “Yes.  I’ve learned my lesson.  Please, Kai. I’m sorry.  So very sorry.  It won’t ever happen again.”

Kai’s knuckles glided down her back.  Other hand gripping her hip he pulled her blistered ass against his leaking erection.  “Why don’t we test that?  Bend over, Sweetheart.”  Annoyed as he was by her hesitance, he smiled lightly.  “Either you haven’t learned your lesson.  Or liked it so much you want another.”

Before Maya could respond she was pushed and held down on the desk.  Her eyes shot wide at the resounding spank.  Fresh tears sprang from her eyes as they squeezed shut at the sharp boiling pain.  “Kai! Please!  I’m--”

Another hit landed.  Then another.

Kai stopped after the tenth.  Staring down at her trembling frame he had a moments regret.  He should have made her count.  Next time, he told himself.

He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his vest.  Amber eyes skimmed over his handy work.  Just when he thought she couldn’t be more beautiful…  Even her mix of drool and tears puddled on the desk were lovely.

Lost in the consuming tumble of dull thudding pain accentuated by sharp stinging bursts, Maya didn’t hear the jangle of Kai’s belt being undone.  She jolted at his hand slipping between her legs. Whimpering as his prodding fingers dragging through her folds.

Kai frowned at the minimal moisture.  Usually Maya got so wet for him. It wounded and upset him.  But before those emotions could take root his eyes drifted back to the pool of saliva on his desk.  His heart lightened.  Even with her punishment his darling had thought of him and his needs.  Proving she loved him as much as he loved her.

He leaned over her and kissed her tear-stained cheek.  “Thank you, my Dear.  You’re so sweet and good for me.”

Maya’s lashes fluttered.  She watched Kai’s hand trail through her drool, gathering it.

Bringing his wet hand to his freed length, Kai slathered her saliva over his shaft.  He grimaced, skin prickling with the beginnings of a inch. But soothed himself that was Maya.  She was clean.  Worthy.  His.

It’s like indirect oral, he thought with a steadying breath.  The prickling itch diminished then fully disappeared as he focused on Maya, pumping his fist to fully wet his cock.

Lining up his cock he leaned back over her and kissed her shoulder.  “You’ve had you’re punishment, Darling.  And you took it so well.  Now, let me remind you of my love and the pleasure I can give.”

Maya’s shining eyes flicked to Kai’s.  Her brow furrowed.  Was it the light?  Or was there a dim otherworldly glow in those honeyed depths? The image of the demon Dabi’s bright burning eyes flashed through her mind.  But it vanished in an instant from the breach of Kai’s fat cock head.  She would've cried out at the burning stretch if her breath hadn’t seized in her lungs.

Kai hissed at the pull of his sensitive skin.  Maya’s drool helped. But it didn’t provide the smooth silky glide her delicious arousal did.  Wanting the discomfort over with he snapped his hips flush against her, driving his length in her tight hole.

Fully sheathed, Kai slowly exhaled.  His eyes closed, head rolling back. Taking a moment to simply feel, he basked in her velvety embrace.  This would never get old. Slipping his aching cock into Maya’s perfect, tight pussy.  Feeling her walls stretch to make room for him then flutter as they adjusted to his penetrating presence was something that consumed his thoughts; just like everything else about her.

Maya mewled the most pitiful whine beneath him and Kai lost it.  His darling was just so sweet.  So beautiful.  So helpless.

His hips pulled back and slammed right back against her.

If asked, Maya wouldn’t have been able to say if her scream was from the hard thrust or Kai’s pelvis pounding into her blazing red backside.

Her back arched, lifting her off the desk.

One hand gripping her hip, Kai’s other hand grabbed the back of Maya’s neck and shoved her back down.  Never once did his ramming thrusts stop.

The once dulling pain of Maya’s welted ass sharpened again.  Fresh tears seeped from her eyes.  Kai had lied.  He had said she had her punishment.  The pain was suppose to be over.  But every thrust was just another spank.  Until…

Kai’s feet shifted.  Angling his hips he hit that spot in her that had her seeing stars.

Pleasure mixed with the pain.  The rough scrape of his trousers zipper didn’t hurt as badly.  Even the occasional jab of his belts buckle didn’t make her want to crawl up and die.

Kai almost reached around to finger her clit.  But an idea struck him. It was scandalous.  But so was fucking his darling over his desk.  He groaned, cock twitching at the thought.  His pace sped seeking his own release without a care for hers.

Maya rocked against the desk.  Her hips started to push back against him despite the blazing pain to her ass.  A different kind of heat pooled in her belly.  But just as the coil started to tighten another warmth filled her.

Kai thrust deep inside Maya, cock coming alive.  He grunted, pushing his hips firmly against her, driving her against the desk, seeking to get even deeper as hot ropes of cum spit from his pulsing cock.

Building orgasm lost, Maya deflated atop the desk.  Her nails clawed at the polished surface, hands balling into weak fists.  Though grateful it was over, she couldn’t help but be bit bitter about Kai’s second lie.  ‘...let me remind you of my love and the pleasure I can give.’ Yes, she had felt some pleasure.  But she hadn’t gotten her full pleasure.

She waited for Kai to pull out.  When he didn’t she looked back at him.

Kai greeted her with a smug smile.  “You didn’t cum.  Did you?”

Maya’s mouth fell open.

Before she could respond, her torso was pulled up off the desk.  Heated as his skin was through his button-up shirt, Maya shivered the instant her back touched his chest.

Kai’s arms wrapped around her.  He held her firmly against him, keeping his cock snugly inside her.   His lips brushed the shell of her ear. “Did you think I forgot about my promise, Sweetheart?  I said I was going to remind you of the pleasure I can give.”

Keeping her glued against him, Kai retook his seat.  Head a whirl of confusion, Maya barely grimaced at the discomfort of his softening cock shifting inside her.  The heated pain of her abused butt numbed by her racing mind trying to figure out what Kai was doing.

Soon enough she got her answer and wished she never had.

“I’m a man of man word, my Love.  What do you say you keep me warm while I do some work?  Then I can give you that promised pleasure.”

After this, Kai might develop a breeding kink to go with spanking, rough office sex, and cokwarming.

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

Thank you all for being so patient with me and the posting of this fic.  Special thanks to Anon for the ask and inspiring this one shot.  And as always, an extra special thank you to @inorganicone2230​ for being the best fellow writer friend (and friend in general) and encouraging and brainstorming with me.  I mean it when I say I would’ve given up posting long ago if it wasn’t for your support.

#kai chisaki #yandere kai #bnha #1920s #one shots #crossroads #Anonymous Ask #asks #inspired by anon ask

[harryandmolly]

Change of Pace - 14 (Summer 2019)

cowritten by @achinglyshawn

summary: Shawn and Maya meet again 10 years after life got in the way of love

warnings: language, NSFW

wc: 10.3k

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

Maya toes her strappy shoes off the moment they’re buckled into the helicopter.  Shawn grins at her. She’s hooked in next to him, but they’ve got enough leeway with their seatbelts that he can maneuver her so she’s turned towards him, legs draped across his lap. 

Maya kicks one of her Louboutins away with a sneer. She loves them, but she conveniently forgets how much they hurt every time she wears them. But they’re worth it.

“So, you think I could borrow this thing in a couple of weeks? I haven’t been to Monte-Carlo in forever.” 

She mimes lifting her knee to drive it into his chest with a snicker. She drops it back in his lap and snuggles into his side. She lifts a hand from her lap and smoothes it down his chest, admiring the way his heat bleeds through the expensive fabric.

“You geek. You’re not going to Monte-Carlo without me anyway,” she jabs back.

“Have you been to Monte-Carlo? I think my French is too Canadian for me to go there,” he babbles as his hands wander up and down her calves. He presses his palms to her ankles before slipping down to her feet, fingers teasing the soles delicately. 

Shawn’s fingers tickle. She squirms, kicking at his hands a little, a giggle rising in her throat until he moves his hands back up toward her ankles. 

“Never been. One of my coworkers spends Christmas there every year. He has a pied a terre there. We’ll go sometime,” she offers with half a smile. She’s relaxed and sleepy enough to delude herself into the delusion of being with him past September. 

Maya sounds half-asleep. He likes it. He likes how cuddly she gets when she fades after dinner, likes that she seems to need to be constantly touching him. Shawn brushes another kiss to the top of her head, just because he can. 

“Glad you know so many rich people whose places we can crash.” 

“God, you’re so warm,” she nearly moans, closing her eyes and nuzzling her face against his chest, “I don’t know how you stand being so warm all the time but it’s very convenient for me.”

Shawn smiles as he looks down at her. “I’ve always been the furnace in my family. S’pretty convenient when some woman steals my jacket.” 

Maya ignores him with a sniff and snuggles into said jacket deeper, playing with the buttons on the sleeves when Shawn grabs her a little tighter. She grins. 

They jolt in their seats for a moment as the helicopter lifts off. Shawn’s fingers dig into her skin slightly as he waits for the craft to steady. 

“Shit,” he breathes, laughing at himself a little. “You ever get used to that?” 

“You do,” she assures, bringing her light fingers up his chest to hang on his collarbone, “I’m happy to distract you though.”

She has a warm, slightly mischievous look on her face, glances between his eyes and his lips.

Shawn is no longer concerned with the rocking tilt of the helicopter. Maya straightens up slightly, pressing herself further into him as she trails her fingers along his torso. He wets his lips, takes a breath. 

“I could use a distraction, sugar,” he murmurs, his gaze falling to her plush mouth. 

Maya shivers. “Sugar” is an odd pet name, it’s not one she’s heard used by anyone under the age of, say, 60. She’s sure if anyone but Shawn tried to call her that, she’d balk. But when he says it, she goes glassy-eyed and is exclusively his. 

Maya watches him look at her mouth and wait for her. He wonders what she’s got up her sleeve. 

She skims her fingers up his shoulder to cup his pretty cheek. She makes a low, contented humming noise and starts pressing sweet little kisses, light pecks to his mouth. Like a butterfly, as soon as she touches down at his mouth, she springs back, only to land again and do the same thing. 

Her kisses are teasing. Gentle presses of her lips she barely let linger. Shawn groans softly, eyes closing as he tries in vain to kiss her back, but she never settles for long enough. He lets her tease him for a bit, but then he grows antsy, just like always. 

His hand finds the back of her head, fingers slipping into her hair as he pulls her firmly against him, pressing his lips properly to hers. The hand that rests on her knee slips up her thigh, fingers teasing the hem of her dress where is lays against her skin. 

Shawn breaks and drags her in for a real kiss before too long, and she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t exactly what she wanted. He gets what he wants from her, gets her arms around his shoulders and her body tightening in response to his attentions. 

His hand feels big and hot on her leg. She tries not to wiggle just to get it to slip up higher to where she’s already feeling more heat.

“Can’t wait to get home, Lu,” he murmurs against her lips when he needs to take a breath. He doesn’t give her the chance to reply before he’s kissing her again, stealing the air from her lungs. His fingers flirt dangerously with the silky smooth fabric of her dress. He could easily slip his hand beneath her dress, could press his fingers to the apex of her thighs and drive her crazy. He doesn’t. He focuses on teasing her, working her up with nothing but his needy mouth. 

Maya whimpers at his words, opens her mouth to respond but doesn’t have time before he’s diving back in to kiss her eagerly. She melts into him, dragging her tongue against his lower lip to seek him out, wanting to feel as close as possible as soon as possible.

When he gives her another break to breathe she doesn’t take it, fastening her lips to his jaw and groaning into his skin.

“Yeah?” she answers finally to his husky confession, “What are you gonna do, baby? What do you want when we get home?”

Her mouth has him groaning, a low sound that has his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

Her voice teases him, raspy and hot in his ear. He takes a steadying breath through his nose, licking at his lips as she keeps herself busy on his jaw. 

“Want you to take off this dress for me,” he murmurs as he tugs at the hem. He slips his fingers beneath it and slides them along her thigh, her quad muscle jumping beneath his touch. 

“And I want you to show me the best way to make you feel good, Lu.” 

Maya nips sharply at his throat. His fingers are flirtatious, a reminder that he knows better than anyone how to make her feel good. But he’s always eager to learn more, to do exactly what she wants, even if she doesn’t know she wants it.

Maya pulls away to his lips, rewarding him with a kiss. She pulls back a little and smoothes a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the end.

“So good for me,” she praises, a little moan in her throat as she says it, “Gonna do exactly what I tell you, baby?”

His eyes fall shut when her hand tangles in his hair. She tugs. He grunts. His fingers dig into her skin. 

“Shit--” he hisses, then swallows whatever else was threatening to spill at the sound of her husky voice. 

“Yea--” he clears his throat, “Yeah, sweetie, fuck. You know I will.” He blinks his eyes open, wetting his lips and focusing his hazy gaze on her. He nudges his head gently into her hand, giving her a crooked, dulcet smile as he pulls his hand from beneath her dress. 

Maya smiles. She knows he will. She remembers from the first time they messed around, all those many years ago on a cold night in Toronto, he put her in the driver’s seat immediately. He wanted her to direct her own pleasure and show him exactly how to please her best.

Needless to say, he learned fast. But he still wants more. She’s willing to instruct.

“Don’t I always?” he purrs, his brow quirked.

Maya grunts gently and hauls his heavy hand back up under her dress a little higher up her thigh, brows puckering slightly. 

“Always,” she promises, “Keep touching me, baby.”

Maya tilts her head to take his lips back when an official-sounding voice, the pilot, chirps over the speaker that they’re landing shortly. Maya purses her lips and backs away with a sigh. 

He wants to listen to her, wants to slide his hand between the soft swells of her thighs and press his fingers to her pussy beneath her panties. The pilot interrupts, pops the romantic bubble around them and pulls them back to the real world. 

Maya leans away from him with a sigh, but her long legs remain draped over his lap. Shawn hums, closing his eyes and dropping his head back. 

He drags his hand slowly along Maya’s shin, from her knee to her ankle, then back again, as the helicopter nears Avila. His head lulls and he looks over at her. He smiles. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, giving her ankle a squeeze. 

Shawn doesn’t release her. He strokes her legs like a promise for later. He gets quiet, shifting gently as they settle.

“Hi,” Maya breathes, smiling warmly, reaching out to stroke the backs of her fingers against his flushed cheek.

She gets to take him home tonight. She gets to make love to him. She gets to fall very heavily asleep next to him. She gets to wake up under his hefty arm with his breath in her hair.

“I kinda can’t believe I found you again,” she admits. She’s been thinking that lately, that somehow both of them wound up back in that place they spent one brief summer together. Neither of them knew the other would be there. But the memory of them is there.

Shawn can’t control the flush that starts in the apple of his cheeks and spreads across his entire body. He smiles a little, closes his eyes and presses his face into her gentle fingers. After a beat, he reaches for her wrist, bringing her hand to his lips. 

He looks at her as he presses a kiss into her palm. He murmurs, “Of all the gin joints, baby.” 

The helicopter lands with a jolt. Shawn’s fingers unconsciously tighten around Maya’s wrist, his eyes slipping shut. 

“Damn,” he sighs when he feels the chopper settle. With a sheepish smile, Shawn places Maya’s hand back in her lap and begins to fumble with his seatbelt. 

Maya doesn’t laugh at Shawn when he startles a little during the landing. She just lets him hold her hand until they’re firmly on the ground, holding his gaze comfortingly.

They depart the helicopter with handshakes and thank yous for the pilot. Maya, with her strappy sandals swinging from one hand and Shawn’s fingers grasped in the other, sighs contentedly on the way back to the Wrangler.

The engine of the obscenely orange Jeep roars to life along with an old 80s pop song on the radio that she doesn’t recognize. She looks over at Shawn and feels so completely, totally at home. She leans across the gearshift with her foot on the brake and kisses him, murmuring into his mouth.

He’s watching her as she starts the Wrangler. He doesn’t mean to stare; it just happens. He expects her to speed off like she always does, but instead she looks at him and for a moment, he feels like he’s been caught. 

She kisses him, slow and soft and like she has to remind herself like he’s really there. Shawn knows the feeling. He hums, kisses her back with fingertips brushing her cheek.

“Let’s go home, sugar,” he croaks against her lips after a moment, nudging her nose with his. He gives her a crooked smile and drops his hand to rest over hers on the gearshift. 

Maya watches his wet lips as he pulls away. They pull into that smile that she’s run into fire for. His hand is rough and heavy on hers. She hums in agreement.

The drive is mercifully short because Avila is so tiny you could fold it up and stick it in your back pocket. Her neighborhood is quiet. The loudest sound they hear when she turns off the engine is the ocean on the other side of the house lapping at the shore.

On the drive, Maya’s nerves, dulled by fine food, alcohol and soft, sweet kisses, get fired back up again. Her heart starts thrumming a little faster with every minute they draw closer to her house. The house he refers to lovingly now as “home.”

When she parks, she glances over at him and wonders if he’s feeling as keyed up as she is, if it’s as oddly automatic for him. She blinks and wets her lips, watching him carefully as she opens her car door. 

Shawn slides out of the car with Maya’s heels hanging from his fingers. He goes around to her side of the Jeep, reaching over her as she hops down to close the door with a smile. He takes her hand then, pulls her knuckles to his lips for a brief moment before guiding her to the door. 

He looks out at the beach while Maya flips through her keys to open the door. He tries not to let himself watch her too much. It feels indulgent, like maybe he still shouldn’t be this crazed about her. He’s older, wiser, and maybe a little jaded. But not about Maya. 

Shawn hears the door click open. He turns from the horizon to see Maya disappear inside. He takes a breath, fills his chest, and follows after her. 

The house feels so silent. She can sort of hear the very quiet expensive central air. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears. She can hear him breathing, maybe a little faster than usual, or maybe it’s her imagination. 

Maya sets her keys down on the counter, glancing over her shoulder at him. He’s watching her. He’s been watching her all night. 

Maya turns, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. She reaches out with both hands, linking their fingers. She starts to walk backwards toward the steps to her bedroom. 

“Come with me,” she murmurs, even though he’s already following her. 

“Okay,” he says with a nod, voice raspy. 

Maya turns to face the stairs, their fingers tangled behind her as she guides him to her bedroom. He keeps close, close enough to smell her shampoo and the sunscreen scented perfume on her neck. 

Shawn closes the bedroom door behind him, dropping Maya’s fingers he leans against it, hands sliding into his pockets. He toes his shoes off, kicking them away as he watches her unclip her hair from across the room. 

For some reason, he doesn’t know what to say. He’s nervous, suddenly, like he has to tread carefully around her. Like if he moves too quickly, he’ll spook her. 

He loosens the tie around his neck, wetting his lips as he focuses on the steady cadence of his own breathing. 

Maya faces away from him again and feels her skin glow as he stares at her. She lets her hair fall from its enormous clip, flinching slightly when she hears him kick his shoes away like a teenager. 

She closes her eyes for a moment to center herself. When she opens them, she can see the ocean out her window. 

“Shawn,” she says, firm but quiet, “Will you come undress me?”

She turns to face him, ready to help him give her what she wants. 

He blinks, pulled from his reverie. She doesn’t turn to face him until a moment later, her head tipping as she gazes at him. 

“Absolutely,” he breathes, voice low, choked off in the base of his throat. His feet move before he realizes, but then he’s there, looking down at her while she waits for him. 

He reaches for her. His fingers brush her temple, tucking a stray curl of hair behind her ear. He smiles, then disappears behind her. 

His fingers are quick on her zipper, sliding it smoothly down towards the swell of her behind. He drops the zip delicately, then presses his palm to her hip, waiting. 

Shawn is gentle but quick to get her dress unzipped. She inhales when his fingers brush her bare skin just above the waistband of her lacy thong and dance away to rest on her hip. 

Maya smiles, shaking her head a little. She turns, feeling the hand that was on her hip skim over to rest on the opposite side. She lifts both his hands to her arms where the straps of her dress fit snugly around her biceps. 

“All the way off,” she requests. Her voice is soft and affectionate. She just wants to feel him feel her. 

Shawn breathes in steadily through his nose. He feels like he’s on fire. Her eyes are wide, expecting. He feels so overwhelmingly close to her right now, with her request hanging between them. 

“Of course,” he murmurs, gaze dropping to her collarbones. He curls his finger under the smooth straps of fabric that wrap around her arms. Slowly, he pulls one towards her elbow, then the other, until the bodice of the dress falls away from her chest. 

Shawn’s eyes drop to her tits, but only briefly. He looks back to her arms, carefully pulling one from the strappy sleeve, then the other. The dress bunches around her hips. His hands find her waist. He pushes his fingers between her skin and the dress, tugging it away from her body. 

He curls his hands around the fabric. Slowly, one knee falls to the floor, then the other. He kneels before her, watches the rise and fall in her belly as he carefully peels the expensive garment down her legs. 

Maya watches him savor her, admiring each part of her as it becomes available to him. It’s not salacious or hungry, it’s closer to reverent. It makes Maya’s pulse skip a little faster. She bets he can feel it through her hot skin. 

Maya’s in awe as he drops to his knees. She sucks in a breath, holding back a pathetic whimper. The fabric skims her legs as he drags it down. She anchors her hand against his shoulder as she steps out of it. When she’s shed it on the floor, she threads her hand into the curls behind his ear and strokes them.

“Will you take off my panties for me?” she breathes and it’s barely audible through the thickness in her throat.

Shawn’s eyes fall shut when her fingers tease behind his ear. His heart skips, heat flooding his cheeks. His hands find the front of her thighs, palms pressing into her quad muscles, just above her knee. He’s able to look at her after a moment, gazing up as he nods. 

“Yeah, Maya.” He hears his voice in his ears, but it sounds foreign; distant. He clears his throat, drags his hands from her legs to her hips, fingers hooking in the lace he finds there. 

He carefully peels the fabric away, down her legs and to her ankles. He focuses on his own hands as he goes, orienting himself to the task at hand, rather than the beautiful woman in front of him. 

Once she steps out of the little thong, he lets himself look. He keeps his hands to himself, palms pressed to his knees as he sits back on his heels. His gaze starts at her toes and moves up, up, and up. She looks the same as always, but it fucks him up every time. He’s so goddamn in love with her. 

He ends on her face, flushed and glowing in the moonlight. He lifts up from his heels, curling one hand around her waist. 

Shawn’s eyes drag goosebumps over her body in a rough, even layer as they ascend from her toes up. She fights a shiver, curls her fingers into her palms and lets out a rough breath of air.

“God, the way you look at me…” She trails off weakly, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

He plants a hand against her body like he can’t stand not to be touching her. She understands the feeling.

Maya slowly lifts her hair off the side of her neck, tucking it over the opposite shoulder as she holds his gaze. She tilts her head and offers herself to him, throat bobbing when she swallows.

“Stand up and kiss my neck.” The words are firm, but still somehow sweet and pleading even though she knows he’ll give her everything she wants.

Shawn’s fingers press firmly into her skin momentarily, needing to ground himself before he stands up. He towers over her, has to curl his spine and hang his head to reach her neck. Not that he minds. 

One hand finds the back of her skull, cupping her as he brings his lips to her soft skin. He hums against her, slowly mouthing along the column of her throat with kisses that are barely there. 

He pulls away just beneath her earlobe, wets his lips, then returns to work. This time his kisses are firm, lips slightly parted as the tip of his tongue slips against her skin. 

He takes a step into her, anchoring his mouth on the junction of her neck and her shoulder while pressing his hips against hers. Even though he wants to, he doesn’t let himself moan, instead holds the growing noise in his chest as he tongues her soft skin. 

He takes his time working her up, going from ghosting his lips on her skin to letting her feel him all over. 

Maya wraps her arms around him, planting her hands on his ass to urge him even closer. She starts to pant at the attentions of his lips. He’s gentle but purposeful. 

She flutters her lashes and chokes on a breath. “And touch my nipples.”

He grunts into her neck at the words. He feels his pants tighten, his cock giving a twitch. He loves when she knows what she wants. Loves when she’s not afraid to ask for it. He can tell she’s trying to hold on to control, but each subsequent request sounds less like a command and more like a plea. 

His voice is stuck in his throat, so he doesn’t reply. He simply turns her in his arms so her hands fall from his backside. With her back to his chest, his hips are firm against her ass. His needy hands soon find their way from her hips to her round tits.

Shawn’s mouth is steady on her neck, but rather than get lost in her taste, he watches as he plays with her nipples. It’s a titillating sight, his forefingers and thumbs plucking her brown, dusky peaks. 

Maya’s head tips back onto Shawn’s shoulder. His perfect hands feel huge. They slide up her torso to scoop up her breasts. Her eyes close.

She breathes, “My god.”

He doesn’t pull away from her neck. He continues lavishing her skin with warm, sucking kisses just like she asked him to. His touch is light and focused on his nipples. It makes her knees weak. She reaches one hand up to cup the back of his neck for stability and wraps the other around his wrist like she wants to hold him there even though he doesn’t seem like he wants to move.

Hot, heavy breaths fan across her neck as Shawn keeps his gaze steady on his fingers. He tugs lightly, then drops one nipple so he can suck his fingers between his lips, getting the tips wet. He brings them back to her then, circling her stiff bud with torturously light pressure. 

“Baby, yes, that’s perfect,” she pants, knowing he feeds off the praise. Her head is too foggy to remember that she doesn’t have another piece of instruction ready to feed him. She just sighs his name and arches her back into his hands so he can have all of her.

Maya doesn’t give him any further direction. She melts into him, purrs with adulation. He sighs softly into her skin, his cock twitching against her ass. The sound of her voice sends a shiver down his spine, all the way to his toes. 

“Know what you like, sugar,” he mutters, giving each nipple another tug before he drops his lips to her collarbone and sucks. He doesn’t know what she wants next, but he does know that he could get carried away with this. 

Shawn tweaks and teases her nipples until they’re flushed and swollen, matching the flush he’s left on her throat. Satisfied, he surrenders her breasts and claims her hips instead, palms pressing down as he grinds his cock into her ass. 

Maya lets him wander off without her direction. He mouths at her shoulder and continues stroking, pinching, teasing her nipples until just before she’s too sensitive to take any more. He knows her body like he knows guitars. 

His hands drop to her hips for leverage as he grinds needily into her backside. She grunts gently, nudged out of her trance. She hums, wriggling back against him with gently gasping breaths. 

She turns, looking him up and down hungrily. She lifts onto her toes and cups his cheek just long enough to give him a quick kiss before she’s down at chest height again, running her fingers along the buttoned down collar of his shirt. 

“Gonna stay nice and still for me while I take your clothes off?” she murmurs, tugging at the loose tie around his neck, lifting her eyebrows. 

She decides to start pulling at the knot before he answers. 

She’s already plucking at his tie before he can find his voice to answer. Shawn nods, curling his fingers into his palms to stop himself from reaching for her. 

“I’ll try,” he says with a quiet smile, tilting his head as he looks down at her. “Shame to take this thing off though. Feel like I should wear it all the time now.” 

His grin gets a little wider as he tips his head back, giving her a bit more room to navigate the intricate knot of his tie. He almost reaches for her again, almost curls his arm around her waist and lifts her to his chest so he can kiss the hell out of her. It’s an impulse that has his fingertips twitching. 

Maya continues fiddling with the tie until it hangs loose around his neck. She stares at the triangle of throat she’s uncovered, breathing heavily for a few moments while she considers.

She looks up at him, cooing from the back of her throat when she gets an idea. She picks up his hands, limp at his sides, and scoops them under the curve of her ass. She swings her arms up around his neck with a glint in her eye.

“Maybe you should keep it on then and take me while you’re wearing it.”

Maya’s smile is sharp, playful but a little devious. She giggles, tugs at the curls on the nape of his neck.

Shawn’s fingers sink into the soft swell of her ass. He growls at her suggestion. He knew she liked him in the suit, but Jesus Christ. 

His eyes flutter shut when she tugs his hair. 

“Bring me to the bed, baby.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, “Okay. Whatever you want, Lu.” 

He blinks down at her, eyes hazy with want as he bends his knees and slides his hands to her thighs, lifting her up so she’ll wrap herself around him. 

He carries her to the bed, stops at the foot to bring his knee to the mattress. He steadies himself, then carefully lowers her down. 

Maya eagerly tucks her legs around Shawn’s waist and melts into him a little when he lifts her. She’ll never get tired of this, of the way he can just scoop her up and carry her places, even if it’s only a few feet to the bed. It’s so romantic and trademark Shawn.

He lays her down gently beneath him and, like the good boy that he is, waits for further instruction. Maya’s sensitive nipples brush against the smooth fabric of his shirt. She opens her thighs for him to lie between so she can feel his weight against her, and so he can feel how ready she is for more of him.

Shawn sighs, relaxing his weight on top of her. He knows she likes it, likes to feel him heavy against her while he rocks his hips into hers. 

“Gonna let you choose,” she pants in a whisper, hearing the fucked-out quality of her voice, “Do you want to taste me? Or do you want to fuck me?”

The truth is, she’s almost beyond choosing. She just wants to feel him.

Maya’s nearly panting already, her voice breathy in his ear. He groans, pressing his face into her neck as he lets one hand skim the side of her body. 

He doesn’t like making this choice. He wants both, like he always does. 

He guesses he could always negotiate for whichever he doesn’t choose while she’s orgasm-heavy and extra needy. 

He lifts from her neck, noses at her cheek. “Let me make love to you, Lemon,” he purrs, emphasizing his words with a tempting roll of his hips.

Maya tries to keep her mouth from straight up dropping open. But she hears the strangled moaning noise she makes and knows for certain he knows how she feels about his suggestion.

She closes her eyes, nodding furiously, tugging harder at his hair, wrapping the little curls around her fingers to show her urgency.

“Yeah,” she gasps finally, like she was underwater and is coming up for air, “Yeah. I want you to. Please. That’s what I want. Make love to me, Shawn.”

Saying the words out loud is scary. She wonders if he’s going to blink, look down at her and say, “But you haven’t said you love me.” She thinks maybe he’ll get up and leave her because she’s afraid she deserves it. She hopes he stays. 

She sounds desperate for it, like it’s what she’s been waiting for him to give her all along. Shawn knows it’s just in his head, knows they needed the time to reach this point. 

But right now, with Maya panting beneath him, it feels like they’ve been this in sync all along, even if they didn’t know it. He flushes, presses his lips firmly to her jaw.

“S’the least I can do, sugar,” he murmurs, corner of his lips ticking up into a smile. 

He pushes himself up onto a knee, his palm pressing into the mattress by her head as he trails his other hand down her body. His fingers slip between her thighs, the slide easy from her arousal. She’s always gotten herself worked up easily. The anticipation makes her drip. His cock twitches sympathetically. 

He stays.

He smiles at her in the way only he ever has. He kisses her jaw and slides his hand up her leg to find all his work already done. She chuckles, dropping her arms over her head to frame her pretty hair all spread out beneath her. 

“You already got me so fucking wet, Shawn,” she tells him, her voice deep and husky and a little less desperate. He makes her feel secure. He wants to give her what she wants.

He smirks, hot gaze dropping down to her thighs. He sees a glimmer of wetness, but he needs a better look. His palm cups the inside of her thigh, nudges her to spread her legs wider. 

She goes easily, splays herself open like she’s never been more comfortable with him, and Shawn has to suck in a quiet breath to control himself. Her skin glistens in the moonlight, slick from her pussy. 

Shawn urges her legs apart gently. She rolls her hips a little to show him how ready she is to feel him. Her toes curl against the sheets. She watches his cock shift against the straining fabric of his pants. Her head lolls back. She sighs.

He grunts, slipping his hand from her thigh so her can cup her sex. She’s wet and hot against his palm, and the sensation has his dick twitching in his tailored pants. 

“Jesus, Maya,” he growls, rocking the heel of his hand against her clit. “Barely touched you and you’re this worked up? Need me that bad?” 

When he drops his hand to her cunt, she grabs onto his wrist and grinds down into his stroking motion, taking what she needs. She moans, loud and whiny, because what she needs is him.

“Mmm, you know your hands on my tits drive me crazy, baby. And, god, the idea of fucking you in that suit…”

She rubs a hand over her face and gives a particularly sharp roll of her hips into his hand, hissing quietly.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

Shawn laughs, gruff and deep in his throat. He rocks his palm against her pussy once more, clicking his tongue. “No, Lemon. S’my job to make you feel good.” 

Not that she won’t make him feel good. She’ll make him feel fucking incredible. But he wants her to lie back and relax, wants her to take her turn at getting spoiled. 

Maya’s words die in her throat. If he wants to spoil her, she’s not very well going to stop him. She just, she already feels so spoiled just from taking him out tonight, from having him on her arm, from getting to be so close for hours. 

She can’t imagine feeling more spoiled. But then again, Shawn’s always able to surprise her. 

He tucks his face into her neck, nipping at her skin just above her collarbone. He moves his palm from her slick heat so he can get his fingers on her instead. Slowly, he swirls the tip of his middle finger around her entrance, before dragging it up to her twitching clit. He flicks her just as his tongue darts out to lick a hot stripe along the column of her throat. 

“Wanna feel my fingers first, sugar?” 

Maya drops her legs open further at the fluttering of his fingers. She swallows, trying to regain composure, but his tongue on her neck has her coming undone. 

“Mhmm,” she moans, “Yeah, touch my clit.”

Maya’s practically melting into the bed as she writhes beneath his touch. Shawn lifts his head, smiles gently as he gazes down at her. Her hair makes a messy halo around her head while her back arches, her legs spreading even more as she tries to get what she wants from him. 

“Like this?” he purrs in a teasing coo, carefully brushing the pad of his middle finger across her swollen bud. The pressure is barely there, just enough to have her thighs clenching and hips pressing up for more. 

He gives her another pass of his finger, then lets his nail scrape over her nerves, right where she’s most sensitive. He does it once, twice, thrice, then presses his knuckle firmly down against her. 

Maya’s brow wrinkles like she’s about to start scolding him for trying to tease her when she’s this far gone. But he doesn’t keep it up. He rakes his fingernail over her bare clit and it makes her twitch hard, chest rising off the bed as she reacts to the stimulus. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” she growls, fingers ripping at the sheets. She settles just a little when he rocks his hard knuckle into her clit. 

She opens her eyes, blinking at him desperately. “Please. Please, Shawn.”

She doesn’t even know what to ask for. She just wants him to hand it over. 

Shawn loves how utterly and completely unabashed she is as she curses and begs and scrabbles at the bed sheets. His finger slides from her clit to her tight entrance, and he delicately pushes the tip inside. 

“This what you want, sugar?” he murmurs, presses a series of kisses to her cheek as he sinks  deeper into her pussy, curling slightly so he can drag the tip across her g-spot. 

He knows she won’t put up with much teasing and quickly slides a second finger inside of her, using it to tap at her spot while the other glides back and forth. 

Shawn is slow with her, not so much careful as just measured and teasing. He’s not proceeding with caution to figure out what she wants. He already knows. He just doesn’t want to give it all at once. He wants to make it last, watch her unravel. 

Maya lifts her chin and whines, quiet and throaty at the slipping of his thick fingers. Her g-spot is his favorite playground. He’s experimenting with a stroking, tapping motion that has her thighs already shaking. She turns her face to the side and squeezes her legs around him.

“I know you like my cock better, hm? Want my cock, Maya? Need you to tell me.”

“You know I do,” she gasps, shaking her head, “Know I love your cock. I want it so bad. Want you to fill me. Feels so good having you inside me. Never want to let you go.”

If it’s a step too far, she doesn’t care. Not now anyway. 

‘Then don’t,’ he almost chokes, but he knows that’s not really an option. He knows their summer romance has an expiration date. He knows he has to make the most of the time he actually has with her. 

Instead, he drops his head and kisses her, stealing the air from her lungs. He slips out of her aching pussy and brings his slippery fingers to the zip of his pants. He fumbles, then finally gets his fly open before he flicks the button. 

Maya doesn’t bother to protest when he takes his fingers back and kisses her. She knows she’s going to get something even better. She rocks her ass into the mattress just thinking about it.

Maya’s own hungry fingers trail up the firm heft of his arms until he releases her mouth. She sighs, shivering at the sound of his zipper dropping. She closes her eyes, waits for him to ease into her like she wants. She curls her fingers into his arms in anticipation.

Their lips separate with a ‘pop’, an obscene sound that gets his cock throbbing. He brings his wet fingers to her mouth, traces her full bottom lip slowly, coaxing her to open up for him. 

“You wanna taste yourself? Taste so good, baby.” 

His fingers are wet and smell of sex. She opens her eyes and mouth at once, accepting them with a little moan. She closes her lips around them, swirling her tongue and soaking them further. Her taste is sweet, musky and a little salty. Her eyes flutter. She sucks eagerly like she would at his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Shawn growls as she sucks his fingers greedily. He noses at her cheek while her tongue has goosebumps prickling his skin. 

Her hands drop from his arms to his legs, smoothing up the insides of his thighs. She finds his length hard and throbbing against his leg. She gives it a firm squeeze, then dips her hand inside his briefs to pull him free, squeezing her little hand around the head and massaging his slit with her thumb.

His eyes fall shut when Maya’s hand makes its way down his body. She has no trouble finding his dick, slips him from his briefs with little to no hassle. 

“Jesus, Maya,” he croaks, pulling away from her cheek so he can watch her thumb tease the head of his cock. “Gonna tease me or are you gonna spread your thighs again?” 

He reaches for her waist, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the jut of her hip bone as he looks at her, gaze heated. 

Maya loves the way he reacts to her fervent sucking at his fingers. It’s one of the things she can do that always gets him absolutely crazy for her. It’s always been one of her favorite things to do for him.

She lets them go with a wet slide of her mouth and a hum to tickle them. She breathes hard, nodding at him, squeezing his tip again.

“You know how bad I want you, honey,” she replies, voice smooth and hot like she’s trying to melt him. She spreads her legs slowly, pulling them off the sides of his waist, leveling him with her gaze.

“Wanna show me how much you love me?”

It’s a challenge and dare. It drives Shawn crazy. She wants him to love her. He thinks could get addicted to the feeling. 

He looks from her wet fingers to her dark, focused eyes. 

“Don’t I always?” he breathes, then catches her lips in a kiss as he knocks her fingers away from his dick.

His palm finds her slick thigh, presses down to keep her spread open as he shifts over her. He licks into her mouth just as he lowers his hips and sinks the head of his cock into her tight pussy. 

Shawn doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t show any hurt in his eyes if he feels it. He just kisses her hard and sets about doing what she asked.

Maya lets him move her hand and pin her to the bed, slowly letting the tip of his dick spread her swollen lips and enter her. She keens, swiping her tongue against his lower lip and pushing inside without waiting. She wraps her arms around his neck. 

When she really can’t breathe, she tilts her head to the side and sighs, inhaling at his collarbone, basking in the smell and feel of him.

“Yeah,” she purrs, “More, Shawn.”

He all but falls into her. He’s barely inside her as she’s kissing him back like she’s about to come. He bites at her lip, though more to get a hold of himself than to calm her. 

His forehead drops to her temple when she turns from their kiss to gasp for a breath. He groans, fingers curling into her flushed thigh as she asks for more. 

“Maybe—“ he pants, smirking into her cheek, “Maybe if you ask nicely.” 

He hates denying her, but he loves the payoff when he doesn’t give into her right away. It’s always sweeter when they’re able to control themselves. Shawn steels himself to stay strong, even as his cock twitches in the tight clench of her heat. 

They both feel like they’re holding on by a thread. Maya grips Shawn’s neck like her life depends on it. Shawn sinks his teeth into her lip like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered. 

His words manage to ground her though. She groans, knowing she has to make a choice. She could beg for him like he clearly wants. She could try to egg it out of him, massaging his cock with her hot walls until he snaps, or she could be a brat and pout about it. 

Her head swims with memories of all the times she’s taken all the paths before her at different opportunities with him. All she knows is she wants to be sure that there are even more awaiting her when they finish here tonight. 

Maya turns her face back, nose bumping his as he stays close to her. She sucks his lower lip into her mouth, lifting a hand to secure against his chest. She lifts her hips and rocks into him only suggestively, not enough to be greedy. 

She releases his swollen lip with a pop and a little kitten lick. 

She doesn’t answer at first, just pulls his lip into her mouth for a searing kiss. He growls, lets her lick and suck at him until he’s swollen and dizzy. 

She pulls away just as he starts to kiss back, reminding him that there’s more important business to attend to. 

“You know you’re the best I’ve ever had?” she says earnestly, digging her fingertips into the wrinkled fabric of his shirt just over his heartbeat, “Please, baby. Please give me more. I need you.”

“Shit, Maya,” he murmurs at the compliment, glancing down at the fingers scrabbling at his shirt. He reaches for her wrist, pulls her arm over her head to pin her to the bed as she begs for him. 

“I need you, too, sugar,” he purrs, nudging her nose with his as he finally complies with her wishes and sinks his cock deeper into her cunt, until he’s buried to the hilt. 

Shawn gives them both what they want. His strong fingers pin her little wrist to the bed above her head and he shakes her whole body with his low gravelly voice when he slides into her fully. 

Maya sighs, the pressure he fills her with releasing her breath, releasing any tension in her body. She takes him easily, scoops a leg up to hitch over his hip slightly, hugging him in. 

“Perfect,” she coos, like she doesn’t need any more. Like even if he just stays here all night with her, hard cock buried as deep as anyone’s ever gone, she’ll be perfectly content. 

“You like filling me up? You like feeling how well I take your perfect cock? How I beg for it?”

Maya always gets wordy when he gives her what she wants. She knows he likes the fucked-out quality of her voice when she mews for him like that. He nips at her lip in response, then drags his mouth along her jaw until he reaches her ear. He licks slowly at the shell as his hips start to grind into hers, his cock stretching her. 

Maya feels the way her body soaks his with every slow, grinding rock of his hips. She takes them eagerly, rolling back at him to make the stretch even greater, even sweeter. His tongue on her ear has her gasping and slipping her fingers up to massage his scalp.

“You know I do,” he murmurs, fingers tightening around her wrist, “You know I think you’re fucking perfect.” 

She can’t see his face when he calls her perfect. She rasps from deep in her chest, it’s a wet scratching sound that sounds like the beginning of tears. She slams her eyes shut and lets him tilt his hips to crack her open with pleasure.

Shawn digs his knee into the bed, pressing his thigh into the back of Maya’s where it’s hooked around his waist. He gets a better angle this way, able to graze her g-spot with the tip of his dick through each slow grind of his hips. He grunts softly in her ear as the sensation of her slick walls clenching around him, stretching and squeezing simultaneously. 

“Right there, right there, right there,” she chants, even though he knows. She knows he knows. Even if he didn’t have the extensive experience with her body, the way it hugs around him now would tell him. 

“Fuck, May--” he chokes, burying his nose in her hair, “So good for me, baby. Always feel so fucking good.” 

He snuggles into her hair. She continues stroking his scalp. She turns her head to kiss his cheek.

“Love being good for you. Always want to be good for you.”

The garbled moan she lets out at his admission catches him off guard, has him groaning into her cheek as he fucks her a little harder, a little faster. His hand falls from her wrist so he can grip her ass to pull her tighter into his rocking hips. 

“Always are, baby, always so damn good. So-- so-- shit-- No one like you, Lu, no one.” 

He’s babbling into her ear, panting desperately as she soaks his cock. His fingers dig into her ass, getting more leverage for his increasing speed. He drops his head to look down between them, watching the way her pussy stretches around him. She’s fucking soaking him, probably ruining the stupidly expensive pants he can’t believe he’s still wearing, and it’s drives him kind of crazy. 

With Maya’s newly freed hand, she wraps it under his arm to grip his back and let him have her. He snaps his hips harder and faster and it only makes her wetter. The way her body responds to him is unbelievable. 

He’s probably leaving bruises in her ass. She doesn’t mind. She’s already marked him up just about everywhere from all the passionate sex they’ve been having over the last few weeks. A few more marks doesn’t make any difference. 

He laughs gruffly into her collarbone, still focused on the way she’s dripping all over both of them. “M’gonna have to take these pants to the dry cleaner cause of you, sugar.”  

Maya laughs back, a choked sound broken up by his rough thrusts. She tugs at his hair playfully.

“Totally worth it though,” she pants, “Being with you like this… it’s so hot.”

She punctuates her thought with a rough squeeze of his cock and a smirk.

He beams down at her, lips quirked slightly. She then catches him off guard, his eyes shutting when she tightens around his dick. 

“Super fuckin’ hot,” he growls, hand slipping from her ass to grip the back of her thigh, pushing it up towards her chest so he can hook her calf over his shoulder. He presses his other hand into the mattress, just beside her head, fingers tangled in her hair where it’s splayed across the sheets. 

He pushes himself up onto his knees, tilting his hips to get a better angle on her g-spot. He groans when she twitches, knowing he’s found the right one. 

Maya watches him lift her leg over his shoulder and shift accordingly, but her eyes fall shut when he strokes back into her.

“Oh god, Shawn,” she cries, her voice breaking into a wail.

He’s jerking into her g-spot with every thrust. Her pussy is squelching. As much as she’d love to hold on, she can’t make it much longer. She tries to ground herself, focusing in on the way his curls feel in her fingers, on the rough brush of his clothes against her skin, on the brightness of his eyes while he watches her. It only gets her that much closer.

Shawn turns to press a kiss to Maya’s ankle, fingers gliding along the front of her thigh. He snaps his hips a little faster, breathing heavily into to the soft skin of her calf. 

Her breath quivers at the touch of his lips to her ankle. She whimpers gently and surrenders to the feeling.

“Baby,” she pleads, “Gonna come. I’m gonna come. Tell-- tell me you love me. Please.”

Shawn is powerless. His heart lurches into his throat, stomach twisting, cock throbbing. He’s so utterly fucked for her. He knows she’s close to coming, only ever is this mushy when she’s about to come but he doesn’t care. He’ll give her anything she wants. 

He collapses back down onto his forearm, her leg slipping from his shoulder and into the crook of his elbow as he presses his forehead to hers. 

“M’so in love with you, Lu, fuck--” he grunts, eyes slipping shut for a moment, “You--” he opens his eyes, nudging her nose with his, “You know that.” 

He kisses her then, his hips stilling with his cock buried deep inside of her pussy as his hand falls to the apex of her thighs, fingers seeking out her clit. 

She can think later about how unfair it was to ask of him since they both knew she wasn’t going to say it back. She can think later about the almost hopeless way he murmurs it to her, like he knows it’ll hurt but he’ll do it anyway for her. She can’t think now.

Shawn kisses her, hot but somehow still soft. Maybe she just imagines it. But it feels like he’s telling her again silently, showing her.

“C’mon,” he growls, snapping his hips once. His fingers quickly circle her clit. “Come for me, Maya.” 

Her back arches as soon as his fingers slip down her stomach. It takes only a few small flicks at her swollen bud to kickstart her orgasm, radiating out from her center as she moans once, loud and long, pressing up into him, head falling back.

It takes all of his willpower, and then some, not to come when she does, to keep fucking her through it. He plays with her clit as her back bows and her pussy spasms around his cock. He groans into her neck as her head falls back, hips stuttering as the control he’s been clinging to slips through his fingers. 

It takes her longer than usual to come down. Her body pulses distractingly with aftershocks. When she can focus her eyes, they lift to him. She lifts her weak hands and cups his face.

He pulls away from her neck to watch her come down, forcing himself to slow his hips. She whines, whimpers softly and it takes a moment longer than he’s expecting. His eyes fall shut when her small palm presses into his cheek. 

“Felt so good. Wanna come, baby? Please come for me.”

“Yeah—“ he pants, nodding almost frantically, “wanna— fuck, I’m gonna come for you, Lu.” 

He emphasizes his words with a snap of his hips, his head returning to the crook of her neck. He picks up an almost desperate pace, quick and shallow in her still twitching pussy. 

Maya holds on, stroking his cheeks with the pads of his thumbs as his hips pick up pace again. He strokes hard but not quite as deep. She can feel her muscles still fluttering for him like her body wants more.

She hums, tucks her little fingers around Shawn’s neck and lifts her head to nibble on his earlobe as his thrusting goes erratic. 

“It’s ok, baby,” she tells him as he rattles toward orgasm, “Let go for me. Come inside me. I wanna feel you everywhere. Be good for me.”

She always says the magic fucking words. He huffs, sinks his cock all the way inside of her as he chases his orgasm. Her breath on his ear has him throbbing. His hips flick and then still, a low, prolonged groan rumbling his chest as he finally comes.

“Oh, fuck--” he growls, latching onto her jaw while his cock jerks, his knees slipping back until he’s collapsed on top of her. 

He’s tense for a moment, then his entire body relaxes. A coil of heat releases in his stomach and radiates through each one of his frenzied nerves as he pants heavily into Maya’s sweet neck. 

He comes so perfectly for her every time. 

She lets her body relax so he can come hard for her, nipping at her jaw and panting as he comes down. She pets his hair softly, murmuring under her breath. When he goes slack on top of her, she grunts and smiles. She likes that she can make him feel so good that he has to collapse into her.

“Sugar, my god,” he all but moans, finally finding the strength to push himself up, flopping onto his back beside her. “You’re so fucking hot.” 

He rolls away when he realizes he’s crushing her. She tries not to pout. Instead she grins and lifts her arms over her head, sliding her sore thighs shut and twirling hair around her finger.

“Bet you say that to all the girls,” she teases.

Shawn spends a lot of time thinking Maya is trying to kill him. This is another one of those times. She’s wiggly next to him, her legs drawing together as her arms raise, fingers curling in her hair. If he weren’t so fucking exhausted from just coming, his cock would definitely be intrigued by the sight. 

Shawn rolls his eyes, chuckling slightly as he looks away from her. 

“Yeah, well, I only have really hot girlfriends at the moment, so. I have to say it to all of you.” 

Shawn glances back at her, brows quirked. He didn’t know what to say, just then. He’d been thinking, only the girls who beg me to love them but won’t tell me if they love me back, but it was a little on the nose. And a little mean. 

He thinks joking was the right way to go. He can’t hold anything against her, anyway. It was his choice to reveal so much of himself so quickly, to fall back into their romance like he’s still twenty years old. Still a kid. It’s better that Maya’s more guarded with it. 

One of them has to be the adult. 

Maya narrows her eyes and rolls onto her side, tracing a teasing hand down the center of his abdomen, teasing his tired cock. She lifts an eyebrow.

“I bet your other hot girlfriends don’t make you come that good.”

Shawn hisses when she grazes his dick, eyes falling shut. 

“They don’t,” he says with a shake of his head, voice scratchy from shouting for her like a dying whale. At least that’s what it felt like.

He knows better than to poke at her competitive instincts and expect to come out of it without blushing for her. She releases his cock with a giggle and scoots over to crawl half on top of him, draping herself in his heavy limbs and closing her eyes.

She yawns gently and realizes when her eyes slide shut that he’s completely worn her out. She’s full of alcohol, fancy food and dopamine.

She pulls her hand away and he releases and gruff sigh, blinking his eyes open as she crawls on top of his, nuzzling into his chest. 

“You think if you have an orgasm immediately before you go to sleep you wake up without a hangover?”

“I think aspirin is probably a good complement to the orgasm. But the orgasm definitely doesn’t hurt.”

He closes his eyes again, settling into the pillows as he curls an arm around her. He hums. 

He gives her what she wants, just like always. She hums in response and lets him curl around her, accepting her warmth against him.

“‘M too tired for aspirin so I’ll take my chances with the orgasm.”

They’re quiet for a minute, settling in for the night. She smiles when she thinks of their evening, considering that they just popped out to Malibu for a few hours and came back like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

“What do you want to do tomorrow, Lemon?”

She runs a warm hand up and down his side. “Can we go to the art store in the morning? After breakfast obviously. And then maybe movies. It’s supposed to rain in the morning so I won’t drag you to the beach. And I have that giant TV downstairs that I haven’t used yet and I have HBO. So.”

She’s definitely falling asleep quickly. He’s warm and soft but firm and bone-stillingly comforting. 

“So,” he murmurs, smiling into the top of her head. He presses a kiss to her hair. “Sounds like the perfect day, I think.”

He can tell Maya’s on the verge of sleep, but he’s got a fancy suit he needs to take off. He squeezes her hip, then wiggles away from her slightly. 

“Gotta change, Lu,” he murmurs, slipping out of her bed with a kiss to her cheek. He disappears into her bathroom to undress. 

By the time Shawn’s back in the bedroom, Maya’s out like a light. The window by the bed is cracked and letting in a pleasantly sea-salted breeze. The sheets rest around her hips from where she wriggled under them. The room is quiet. 

She shifts gently when Shawn shuffles in next to her. His arm is heavy around her waist. She breathes softly through her nose. It’s perfect. 

+

Maya wakes up with a start suddenly somewhere around 4am. She’s sure she was dreaming but as soon as she’s awake she forgets what she was dreaming about. 

She blinks. She and Shawn are in nearly the same position. He’s fast asleep, his nose buried in her hair, inhaling long and slow behind her. She reaches down and links her fingers with his. 

She remembers her dream now. 

It’s foggy. It’s hot. It’s last night, Shawn holding himself over her, stroking his cock into her so that every breath of hers comes out as a pant. She feels undone, desperate. She wants to hear it again. She knows it’ll make her come as soon as he says it. She’s greedy for it, hungry for it. 

I’m so in love with you, Lu. 

Her stomach lurches. How could she do that? How, even in the haze of sex, could she beg him to remind her how much he loves her? How could she expect that of him when she’s held back so much?

Maya rolls over carefully and quietly. He stays mercifully asleep. There was a time when she would’ve run from this and self-flagellated for months or years. She might’ve kept this shame and hurt splattered across her skin like an invisible tattoo. But when she looks at him now, perfect with sleep, she thinks maybe they both deserve better. 

She’s going to tell him. Today. 

She closes her eyes. 

----------

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[jaggedheartstrings]

Spread Your Wings (and leave me behind)

Read on AO3: LINK

Word count: 2,1K

Chapter 10: Have Mercy

November 2004, Rhode Island

James sat by a large window. The coffee shop they’d chosen for the exchange of information had been a truly remote location. It was minutes away from Woonsocket, but close enough to call backup. He wasn’t alone of course, Natalia was sat to his left few tables away. Steve was standing in a hotel room across the street, incase they’d need even more support.

James jotted down another thought in his leather case notebook. The thing was filled with little scribbles, full of memories. HYDRA-time memories- as Steve called them- he wrote to the back; the text flipped the other way.

The bell by the door jolted James out of his thoughts. His eyes followed the figure. He was a tall, military man. His hair short-cropped, though fitting. The dark-skinned man ordered a large cappuccino and turned around to lean on the counter. His eyes flicked around the room, before stopping on Natalia but quickly moving to James. The man nodded at him and grabbed the freshly brewed coffee. His strut towards James’ table was very ‘manly’- as one would call it.

“You must be the man I’m supposed to meet.” He appraised James before sitting down in front of him. “I suppose you’ll want your file. How you guys don’t have this, I have no clue.”

“It’s not always easy t’ get information, Colonel,” James eyed the achievements the man had stapled on his uniform. “But it’s nice of you t’ agree t’ this meeting.”

“Information drives a hard bargain,” Colonel Rhodes placed a basic file on the table, his hand splayed over it. “I hope you know we’ll ask for information back.”

“Jus’ need the name, Colonel,” James leaned towards him, “took one of ours an’ practically destroyed her entirely. We wanna just get her back.”

Rhodes hummed, “I can get behind that, yeah. Make sure you give the bastard a good lesson, too. He’s caused a lot of destruction inside our own ranks. And that was before he became a two-faced agent.” The file slid neatly towards James and the Colonel sipped his coffee for a while.

He opened the file and was greeted with the same man, only this one had a beard. He glanced around the file before closing it. He had all he needed. The file slid right back to Rhodes. “Thank you, Colonel. Really. This’ll help a lot.”

Colonel Rhodes eyed him for a bit, before nodding towards the file, “sure you don’t wanna keep it? We have all this information on a computer, too.”

“I have a good memory. Thank you for the offer though.” James handed his hand over, perhaps to shake in hopes of parting away as likely allies in the future too. Not only with the air force, but with this man as well. They shook their hands and James rose from the seat, heading out the door. As soon as he was out he pressed his comm on.

“Rumlow, Brock. An American citizen. Was in the air force before he turned into a double agent. Worked for Fury before he turned his back on America and became a terrorist for HYDRA,” James recited back to his teammates.

“Just like we expected. Someone higher up. He couldn’t have accessed so much in such a short time if he didn’t have well established contacts.” Steve filled in what James already knew. He suspected Natalia did too.

James walked across the street towards the hotel, Natalia following behind him quietly, “he also had to be high up in HYDRA- to be able to access Natasha.”

“And EXTREMIS,” James reminded. “We still hafta find Hansen.”

“I doubt that girl is much better than Natasha right now. If she’s even alive,” Nat supplied. It was true. They had sent a message to Maya Hansen awhile ago- she’d never answered. They had ruled her out as a reliable source.

“Do we have anything else right now, other than waiting for a never-coming message or waiting for someone to recognize Rumlow?” James grumbled, bummed out he couldn’t help his girl. She needed him and he wasn’t able to do anything.

Nat slipped into the elevator with him, just before the doors closed. She put a brief hand on his shoulder. They all three had an emotional compromise when it came to the Winter Flower. She was Steve’s ex(was ex right if they never broke up?)-girlfriend, Nat’s savior and James’- well, his lover. She was his in everything but the official word, and James hers.

Both Nat and James turned off their comms as they reached the floor the room was in. Before they could step into the room, a movement in the hallway they’d just come from caught his eye. He tensed and let his hand fall from the door knob. Natalia turned from the window she’d been watching. “What is it?” she hissed, voice barely above a whisper. James glanced at her, before slipping a finger to his mouth. He crept towards the end of the hallway, turning his head to the left.

Before he could react, James was thrown down to the floor. He could hear Nat running towards them and felt a pinch of pain in his arm. He turned his gaze to find a needle in his elbow pit. It was filled with a yellow-brownish liquid, but surprisingly it was full. That was probably explained by Nat rolling on the floor with his attacker.

The attacker was- Natasha. Was Rumlow really that uncreative that he sent her after them twice? Didn’t he understand that they’d do anything to get her back? Growling, James ripped the needle from his arm and threw it to the ground, the vital shattering and leaking the liquid to the floor. The crashing sound apparently startled both Natalie and Natasha. Nat flew into the wall as Natasha gripped her arm where it was bleeding. She examined her bloody fingers, before baring her teeth to Natalia. Nat was sitting on the floor; her pained puffs audible.

“Natasha,” James pleaded, and the gold-eyed woman’s eyes flickered to him in surprise. “Where’s Rumlow? If we get him, we can free you.”

“And if I don’t want to come with you?” Natasha glared at him, her voice rough with an accent he couldn’t recognize.

“We’ll let you go,” James promised. “We just want you out of his clutches, so he can’t hurt you or control you.”

“You won’t find him.” The golden-eyes sparked with mirth, “he didn’t come with.”

“That’s a lie,” he quipped. He could see the little shakiness her hands always did when she lied. Natasha had always been afraid of lying. It was painfully taught to her at a young age, long before HYDRA.

“I-I can’t help you.”

“Is he near?” James stepped closer and Natasha stepped back, her silence all the answer he needed. “In a nearby building perhaps?”

When she didn’t answer, he nodded towards Natalia. She was out before he could even blink. Natasha’s eyes followed James, no matter what he did. Every little shift he would make, she’d tense up again. James slipped his comm in his ear, the frantic calls from Steve coming through.

“Bu-James! James!”

“Yes, Steve?” The name made Natasha snap her gold-filled eyes towards him, wariness growing in them.

“Oh- oh thank God. What the hell is going on out there?”

“It’s Natasha again.” James told him carefully. James heard the pained gasp from Steve and saw the slight shiver that raced through her body.

“Rumlow?” Steve snarled out. James sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Nat’s dealing with him, hopefully.” Something crashed on the other side of Nat’s comm. “I guess she found him.”

“How you want him boys?” Natalia’s smooth voice came through. “Sliced or diced?”

“Neither,” Steve snarled out. “Just get him here. And keep the tablet far away from him if he has it.”

They could hear Rumlow yelling in the background. Natasha’s eyes slipped closed, the fight leaving her body. James was about to sigh in relief, until the fierce woman went limp and almost hit the floor, if it weren’t for him catching her. “Jesus,” he breathed out. “Natasha just about passed out in my arms.”

“That’d be my fault,” Natalia admitted. “I swiped the release command. We’ll have to destroy the tablet if we want her to be fully free.”

“Of course we do!” Steve shouted and James couldn’t help the wince. “Now get me out of this goddamn room, the door’s jammed.”

“Yeah, okay.” James laid the woman he loved more than life itself on the ground gently. Sighing deeply, he headed for the hotel room Steve was trapped in. And apparently unable to break out of.

 * * *

 Brock Rumlow woke up tied to a chair.

Couldn’t get more low-budget than this.

He rolled his neck around a few times before lifting his gaze to access the room before him. It was a basic interrogation room. There was a desk and an empty chair before him in the otherwise empty room. The observation glass didn’t give him a view of anything other than himself, tied to the fucking chair.

Ridiculous.

The door on his right opened and The Black Widow herself stepped into the room. Her cold icy eyes followed his every movement- not that he could make many. He couldn’t remember quite clearly how he’d ended up here. He’d been observing The Winter Flower as she moved towards her targets. Then suddenly the assassin had stopped (he was unable to hear the conversation), and soon enough he’d lost visual. When he’d tried to get it back, everything had gone to black.

“Quite the show you put up for us,” The Widow tipped her head towards him slightly. “Not many dare to attack us once, but you did it twice.”

“I didn’t attack you. The Flower did,” he smirked at the brief irritation that flashed in her eyes. “Your crew isn’t that unbeatable. Sure, you have some great elements, but anyone with enough knowledge of your weaknesses can do enough damage. What luck was it to me that three out of four shared a weakness?”

“Hm. What I’d like to know is why she’s currently lying unconscious in the med bay, unable to wake up?” The Widow shifted and lifted a neat eyebrow. Brock couldn’t help the slight worry that flashed through him. Despite him being a ‘heartless double-agent’, he’d learned to love the deadly assassin. He could understand her franticness.

“She won’t wake up.” The Widow’s anger seemed to rise a level as his words caused a deep reaction in her. “The program is very simple. Once a command is given, it can only be broken by another command.”

“Why’d she always stop when she recognized James then?”

“Obviously there are some problems with the program,” Brock scowled at the table. “It isn’t as perfect as I would want it to be. Obviously, I couldn’t make her do the coding. She could’ve made a kill switch. Don’t want that.”

“So what? We have to give an order to her in order for her to wake up?” The outrage in her voice seemed only to shine through The Widow’s eyes.

“She won’t wake up unless her brain receives the command. Funny thing, connecting EXTREMIS to the network and all electronic devices. She complained it was noisy the first time,” he supplied. “If you won’t give the command, she’ll eventually starve and die. It’ll take a long time and it’ll be painful, but that’s a possibility too.”

“Are you insane?” she hissed, slamming her hand down on the table. “I would not kill my sister!”

“Well, in my defense you are an assassin. None of you are supposed to have emotions.”

“We’re not cold-blooded killers! We’re not psychopaths, we’re human too!” The Widow growled at him, glaring a hole through him. Rumlow had to admit that the famous ‘Widow stare’ was as terrifying as it had been made out to be. “You will tell me how to free her from this- this curse you’ve put in her!”

“I mean I would, if I knew how to.” The snarl that left her mouth was an impressive volume. The punch that followed was painful too, as it happened to also break his nose. “Ow.”

“If you can’t, you will tell me who can do it!”

“I’m not sure anyone can!” Brock yelled in desperation, tipping his head back at the pain. “Maybe she could do it herself if you allowed her to.”

The Widow left the room, snarling the whole time.

Welp, this was going to be fun.

#marvel #mcu #Marvel MCU #tony stark #female tony stark #winter soldier tony stark #hydra tony stark #Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #buckytony #winteriron #winteriron fanfic #Steve Rogers #captain america #Black Widow #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #natasha stark #brock rumlow

[eightarmsnohands]

Oops

Hurried, panicked, sandalled feet echoed down the ivory hall and screeched as the angel Erathol rounded a corner and nearly collapsed into a chamber, where another angel, Thadrian, stood over a table of light.

“Literal fuck and shit, this is bad.”  Thadrian grimaced at the table, which was flashing pastels in various places.

“How bad are we talking?” Erathol wheezed.

“It’s bad.  Remember when we sent Moses that incomplete species list?  Multiply that by a fuckin’ septillion.  I was supposed to just archive the last century and delete the original files but I accidentally dumped all of them.  I get the joke but why the FUCK would you put the Trash icon right by the Earth icon?”  Thadrian tapped the table in several places frantically.  

“Balls.  A river of hairy balls.  I’m so sorry man.”  Erathol joined him at the table.  “After the Moses fiasco I had to spend eons bringing The Message to a species with two million genders that had colonized an entire solar system.  That was a lot of fuckin’ prophets, dude.”

“At least they had written language.  And spoken language.  I spent that time working with species that communicated chromatophorically.  Well, nothing we can do about it now, just see how this shakes out.”

“The Boss already knows though.”

“The prick is probably just drawing it out.”

---

There was no real explanation for it, nothing that satisfied everyone.  “Strange influx of litter” and “the biggest art project/social experiment/hoax of all time, orchestrated by a network of anonymous people from all faiths” didn’t even come close.  But the world changed after that.  History would come to call it The Great Leap Upward.

---

Erathol and Thadrian ascended the Billion Cosmos to the Forge of Creation and presented themselves to God a week after the Great Leap.  Its prismatic shimmer and formless undulation blinded and bewildered even them, who had seen staggering impossibilities.  They knelt and averted their eyes.

A sound, the simultaneous crumbling of mountains, the breaking of chapel windows, the crashing of endless waves, a giggle, an imperceptible sigh, the snap of a branch in an empty forest, passed over them and they came to understand it:

“See.”

God’s formless stupefaction ceased and before them was a mortal man, a vision of him.  His name was Ted Charlebois, he was 42 and he lived in America, California specifically.  He was standing in line for coffee and preoccupied with many things.  But beyond his smartphone, he noticed something stuck to his shoe.  It was a Post-It note, rather several, almost a stack.  They were covered in sentences written in marker.  The first one read, “Please let Mark get fired.  It’s the only way I’ll get that promotion.”  Below that was a date, a time, and a name.  Ted Charlebois.  He paused for a moment.  It wasn’t his writing.  He did not write this.  And yet, a ghost of a memory began to haunt him.  He remembered, perhaps a year ago, saying these very words in the dark, to the dark, with his eyes shut and his hands on his chest.  And he did get that promotion, because Mark did get fired.  

Stuck to that note was another, dated almost thirty years ago, again with Ted’s name on it.  It read “Please make Mommy and Daddy stay together.”  Horrified, Ted dropped the note.  Almost immediately he snatched it back up though, because he absolutely needed to know what the others said.  

The next one he didn’t recognize, but that’s because it didn’t have his name on it.  “I want to wake up tomorrow.”  Maya, in November of last year wrote that.  “Take me away from this place, take me somewhere where I don’t have to hurt people.”  David wrote that ten years ago.  

Ted kept flipping through the notes.  

“Kill me, God, please kill me.  I don’t want to be without my daughter.”

“Make the bombs stop.”

“Take the hunger away from me.”

“If the soldiers come tomorrow, let them take me, just keep my family safe.”

“Cure my cancer, you fucking bastard.”

And Ted’s eyes filled with tears as he realized what the notes were.  In the maw of nauseating impossibility, he knew.  And his mind begged him to think more about it, to just cobble together an explanation.  But his heart whispered over and over to him, over and over, to let go and submit.  People turned to look at him as he began sobbing in line at Starbuck’s.  He got out of line and left and began running.

The vision of Ted went dark for a brief moment, and the angels sighed in exasperation.

They saw Ted again in a lobby of an office.  The logo on the wall behind him read “United Humanitarian Initiative.”  He was shaking his leg, a briefcase sat between his feet.  All the seats in the lobby were full.  Next to him was a woman who also had a briefcase but as Ted glanced over her, he noticed a handful of crumpled notes in her hand.  His eyes traveled up to hers and he reached into his pocket, sensing her confusion.  He held out the notes he found.  She nodded solemnly, then smiled faintly.

When their eyes returned forward, they saw other people in the room with shocked expressions.  One by one, they reached into their pockets, their bags and briefcases, and pulled out similar notes.

The vision faded again and the angels shielded their eyes as God fluttered back into chromatic fire.  Again, innumerous thunder claps filled their ears.

“I dreamt this, I knew this day would come to pass, but how...that was up to them.  Tiny apes, so selfish.  All the others like them destroyed themselves long ago.  But as I gaze across their history and their future, this is the moment they changed their path and truly took responsibility for each other.  And it was thanks to a fuck up of Biblical proportions on your part.  There is no number that yet exists that describes how unlikely this was.  In nearly infinite dreams, they ignored their own cries to me, laid bare in front of them, every time.”

And then a new sound, like every mortal newborn screaming, every sigh of death, every sob of happiness, the breaking of strings, feathers falling one by one on still water, molten chaos collapsing onto itself in a cacophonous loop, lasted for the briefest of moments...God laughed.

“You may go.”

As Thadrian and Erathol descended the Billion Cosmos, they took turns sighing.

“You know,” Erathol broke the silence.  “They’re going to need guidance still.  Do you think we should go down there and get a little more hands on?”

“You know what happens when we get involved…”  Thadrian smoothed his hair.

“Miracles?”

“Fuck no.  Not us.  But we have to try, right?  We have to do something.  We’re all in this together.”

End.

I wrote this based on a writing prompt I found on Reddit, Heaven accidentally leaks everyone’s prayers.  Hope you enjoyed it!

-J

#fiction #short story #writing prompt #reddit

[theonyxpath]

Given our ongoing Kickstarter for Chronicles of Darkness: Dark Eras 2, we decided it would be prudent to take another look at Tales from the Dark Eras which contains stories from many of the eras covered in the original Chronicles of Darkness: Dark Eras. This week we look at Bone and Gold, a story by Malcolm Sheppard set in Mage: The Awakening’s Alexandrian period (330-320 BCE).

War is groaning.

We remember the screams of the fray, hurled spears and swift-stabbing swords, but a man can only exert his full strength for a few dozen breaths before he must shuffle back and fght with grimaces and shouts alone, until his vitality returns. As battles progress, soldiers take longer pauses between assaults. They pant beside horses under the relentless sun. The purr of exhaustion rattles from their lips. And of course, they weep. That is war’s true music, nothing so much as a hard day’s work by a thousand of the lowest slaves. Labor and terror.

Today the groaning belonged to one side, populated by Greeks, Persians, Egyptians and others, bound to the service of our Warlord. With five comrades I pulled our earthladen pallet, ropes over our shoulders and shields ahead. We growled out our steps, like in the marching drills. As we six pulled, six more pushed the pallet from behind, and together we were one of four units, an entire lochos of the army, made of survivors and ill-tempered men, suited to the riskiest work. We were building a ramp.

The defenders of Pir Sar knew exactly where to aim their arrows, but they lacked coordination and enthusiasm, argued after each volley, and warned us of the next with early, scattered shots that gave us time to hide behind shields, javelin-scarred stones and the sturdy dead.

Yet men died. An arrow caught Phillipos under his ear, sending him straight to breathless, open-eyed sleep. A javelin took Argyros in the chest while he straightened one of the shields we’d planted to shelter us. He gurgled and rolled down black, tamped dirt. Stray missiles danced down the growing earthwork until the sun touched the mountains. By the day’s last volley, fatigue had conquered all terror. I sat in my shield’s long shadow to break out water and dried figs.

Phokas crawled to me, holding up a bit of bread. We traded half portions with each other. “Who wants to die hungry?” he said. “Even if you wanted to think of some fine fuck from your youth or pray your last, hunger would throw ox shanks and olives into your dreams and wine to wash it down. Petty things.” Then he ate: three bites.

“I don’t know what I’d want to think while I died.” An arrow struck my shield. It sounded like rain on an old roof. “It’s a distraction.”

“Theophanes, you really know how to make me feel like a brother.”

“I hated my brother.”

Phokas squeezed my arm and laughed, just like when I met him, after they’d made our lochos out of the remnants of two others. He’d invited me to his tent then. I knew he wanted to take honor from me like I was a staring, frightened boy.

The volley struck: long, black, killing raindrops.

I pressed my heel against his belly. A little kick would send him over the shield. He’d get rained on. “Think of death so nobly, and you’ll want it,” I said. “It’ll tempt you to make mistakes.”

“Yet the gods hate cowards.” He wound my forearm into his armpit. I forgot he was a strong wrestler. He could rip my elbow out of joint with a shrug.

I let go first. “They hate heroes too.”

We fled after the meal was done.

—

After night’s cool mercy, dawn hid in wine-colored clouds. We could be swift and comfortable. By noon, the ramp was fit to carry one catapult at a time. Pir Sar sent a sortie: over a hundred in a crooked line, dispersed by rocky terrain on the spur that held their fortress. We twenty-four set a phalanx on smooth earth of our own making. My shield touched Ariston’s; our spears wheeled into place, Greeks together.

Athenian strategy, Spartan muscle, even Persian iron — conquered Persian iron. Oh yes. I yelled “Ha-Oh!” with the rest, and thrust at the first wave in a single beat, creating upon the ground that storm the Asians failed to summon with ill-timed arrows. There’s much to love about battle, in the little techniques: shifting to the overhand grip so, when you thrust with a spear, the weight of a skewered body doesn’t wrench you forward. Stamping the ground twice, to advance as one force. We made a line of corpses for the rest to cross, but they thought better of it, hid behind rocks and harassed us with javelins. If a man shook his cramped shield arm they’d cast fast for the opening. We could only wait; advancing to the rocks would break our formation. We were back to the groaning war. Twenty-four warriors became twenty, sixteen, then eleven.

They saw our Horse Companions before we heard their crashing hooves, coming up from behind. We jumped aside for them. The Warlord was with them, set apart by a white high-crested helmet and his black horse, called Ox-Head.

Later they’d drink to their victory, omitting talk of we eleven on the ramp. Catapults loosened the enemy walls enough that enemy archers could no longer safely shoot from its vantage. The spur was ours. Even camp followers scurried up to loot the dead.

One of them turned a body over with a practiced yank to the hip. She knelt and stared at the dead man’s ruined face with the strange blue eyes of the Alinas. She ignored the sharp sword at his side. She was alone, and that was unusual, too. Followers usually worked in families, or beside soldiers who were their lovers, masters, or relatives.

Phokas must have noticed this. He swaggered over. “His things are mine,” he said to her. “I killed him on the ramp.”

“Take them.” She spoke calmly, in a Persian accent.

“I will!” said Phokas. “I can be generous. What can I give you? You haven’t even loosened his linen.”

“Nothing.” She stood and flexed her fingers singly, in a peculiar order. I glanced at my sword hand for a moment. When I looked up again, I was a dozen paces closer between them. Yet they ignored me.

“You won’t find anything on him that I can’t give you, though with more warmth.” He laughed at his own wit and crouched like a wrestler.

“You’re going to enslave me,” she said. “I’m not your enemy.”

He reached out to her, but my left hand intercepted his. I pulled; my sword entered his belly upward, from below the cuirass. I didn’t remember the thrust, but the end of it: failing tension in his arm, wetness on my legs from his blood. Yet I worried that he’d scream, so I put the next strike through his lung, entering from the notch of the collarbone. He made a soft sound, like a bubbling stream.

The noise carried my thoughts to an absurd place: a memory of Thebes. I’d visited with my mother and her family. We went to get my brother married, but really spent most of our time visiting famous places. I was very young.

We stopped at a spring. “Herakles came here,” said my mother. “He killed his family, but washed the blood away. So the gods gave him a new purpose. The water still tastes like blood.” I took a sip. Salt. Iron.

My brother elbowed me. “Ghosts love unburnt blood,” he said. “They suck it up like that and talk to the living.” That gave me nightmares for a year.

The spring sounded like Phokas’ death, so even as I dragged his body to a cliff’s edge I thought of those dreams, where pale men and women drank by a blood-flled trench.

The woman was with me. “I’m Maya,” she said and, as if to complete the introduction, she pushed his legs over the edge. The rest of his body followed.

“I can’t pay you to keep this secret,” I said.

“You’re not going to kill me, since you did it to save me. Nor will I abandon the army. My uncle lives near Vitasta — the Hydaspes in your language, where Zeus-Ammon must go to open the gates of the East. I don’t want to travel alone. I can reassure you with my service,” she said. She made a peculiar gesture and touched my arm. I felt as if it connected two pieces of a torn scroll, which when read together revealed my weakness, my shame. What else could I do?

Find out what happens to Theophanes and Maya in Tales of the Dark Eras, available now in ebook and print from DriveThruFiction!

#Onyx Path Publishing #White Wolf Publishing #Mage: The Awakening #Mage The Awakening #Chronicles of Darkness

[rpchive]

123rd Encounter-- Fortissimo

another new guy! but will he be joining us...?

Demo and Maya wait around with Paprika in the console room for the IT to land at its next destination. Daedalus casually makes his way inside the console room and stops when he notices the others. "You guys seem like you're having fun." Maya: Well, we've been sitting here tossing some ideas for things back and forth, but aside from that, yeah, nothing's been happening. Daedalus: What, you guys trying to decide our next vacation spot or something? Paprika: Well, no; the IT is just a very...adverse atmosphere; so I was just thinking, well, why're the bedrooms the only really different looking things? Everywhere else looks pretty normal; so I figured maybe we could all just change the place up a little? Everything looked exactly the same in Lobotomy, so I don't see any reason to keep everything the same anywhere else. Daedalus: Huh, I wouldn't have taken you for an interior designer. So you want to remodel the IT? Paprika: Well, not alone, but yeah, why not? No sense in keeping everything all the same forever. You can have a bunch of different kinds of bread over time, but if you ate nothing but the same sandwich for a while, you'd get pretty sick of it. Daedalus: I... guess? I'm not exactly sure how you'd go about changing the place though. Seems like it just kinda does its own thing every now and then. Unless that console has a "press here to redecorate" button, I'm not sure where to start on that one. Paprika: Well, uhh...I mean, it does what people need of it, right? So maybe if everyone wanted stuff to change, it would? Daedalus: Sheesh, this is starting to feel like a Carebears episode or something. Paprika: Uhh! Umm, besides that...! The IT's gonna land soon enough, so...you don't need to stay here, unless you want to... Daedalus: Are we going anywhere specific, or is it just sorta following its heart again? Paprika: It's somewhere we haven't been before! But that's about all I know right now... Daedalus: Aaalrighty. I guess I can bounce while you guys try and make the place look nice. Anyone else going? Demo: Dunno, haven't seen tweedles dee and dumb yet today, but I'll come along.

Maya: I'll go too; we oughtta give Nydins and Rio a chance to look this over.

Paprika: Oh, yeah, of course! I'll go, uhh...find them, then. Soon enough, Jay, Collin, and Fawkes join the rest of the group in the console room.

Fawkes: Is this everyone? Maya: Looks like it for today. Daedalus: Cool, let's bounce then. I'm not sure what the IT's gonna do when it starts remodeling, but it's probably gonna be pretty funky. The exploring group exits the IT into a large city; the sun seems to have set some time ago, however, leaving the streets lit with lamps and the headlights of the occasional passing car; though no one seems to notice the group exit the IT. Daedalus: Huh, surprisingly urban for a change.

Collin: It's kind of pretty, honestly. Feels like it's been a while since I've been in a city like this. A man rushes by the group, bumping into Maya slightly as he passes. There is a moment where he glances behind himself to apologize only to truly get a look at his surroundings. Stumbling backwards a bit, he remembers what he's running from and keeps going regardless, however he does call back to the group: "You'd better run too; we've got company coming!"

Moments later, the ground begins to shake as something large charges forward through the mess of buildings, its form mostly obscured by the darkness of the night; however, it is clearly about half the height of any of the current surrounding buildings. Daedalus: Oh for fuck's- We just got here! alienrabitt: I don't think whatever's coming this way is gonna care...! Daedalus: Screw it, just run!

He spins around and darts after the man that ran into Maya just a moment ago, quickly followed by the rest of the group. Stopping for a second, the man looks around himself, muttering "I gotta get to a roof" before taking off again, making his decision as the beast behind the group rounds the corner and begins to make its way down the street; a mass of black scales, red eyes, and a multitude of arms, legs, and mouths running across the length of its body, which has a more round shape in comparison to everything else. Screeching, the beast continues to hurry after its prey.

Demo: What the hell is that thing?!

???: That's what we wanna know! Things like that just started showin' up outta nowhere one day! Collin: Why isn't anyone trying to stop them?!

Daedalus: I'm pretty sure eldritch abominations are outside of the police's paygrade! ???: I watched that thing eat a car; I don't think guns are gonna do anything! Besides, most people can't even see that! Or...me! Well, when I'm like this, anyway... Collin: What is that supposed to mean? ???: It's just...I don't know, unless I wanna be seen, most people just...can't see me here. It's like these things exist in a different dimension or somethin', but the damage they do happens on both sides. Fawkes: Do you know how to stop that creature, then? You said something about a rooftop a moment ago. ???: Oh, I can stop it, I just need to get some distance between us! Daedalus: Alright, you lead the way then, but if you turn into one of those things I'm gonna be pissed! Grabbing a fire escape ladder, the man yanks it down in one smooth motion and begins to race up the stairs as the creature slowly approaches the building.

"...These things get bigger when they eat metal; so if it starts eating the stairs, we're in trouble! Keep it back if you can!" Fawkes: They get bigger if they eat what?

you’re on the menu, buddy

Daedalus: Just don't try to hug it and you'll be fine! ???: Like I said, keep your distance!! Once I make it to the roof, just try not to get caught up in anything! Daedalus: Whatever that's supposed to mean!

He takes several steps forward as he summons forth a bow of flames, backed up shortly by Collin as he starts charging an electrical current. Fawkes changes his arm into a laser configuration as he keeps a sizable distance behind the other two. The creature reaches the edge of the building, desperately attempting to squeeze into the alley between the two buildings the fire escape is on as it snaps its jaws and reaches out for the man rushing towards the roof, who is only halfway there. All three open fire simultaneously, barraging the creature with a hail of fire, electricity, and concentrated energy. Fawkes tries to focus more on the eyes with his laser while the other two seem more preoccupied trying to take out the arms reaching for the man trying to climb up the building. The creature recoils from the onslaught of force, screeching and hissing as it desperately attempts to swat away its assailants. The man on the fire escape makes it up another few levels. Dodging a swipe, Daedalus looses another couple of shots as he calls out behind him. "Hurry up, will you? This ugly bastard can't seem to take a hint!" Reaching the edge of the rooftop, the man hastily starts to pull something out from somewhere on his person. "Working on it!"

Retrieving the currently unidentified object, which seems to be glowing purple and green in the dark, the man stands on the edge of the building for a moment. "Hey, ugly! You picked the wrong city to fuck with! Tell your friends the concert's gonna run as long as there's an audience!" The creature turns its attention to the roof and screeches one last time as it attempts to scale the side of the building, only for the sound of a string instrument to physically cut through the night air. The man on top of the roof plays an entire song, each note tearing into the beast below, sending chunks of it crashing down onto the pavement, only for them to burst like glass and dissipate into the shadows. The man's music continues to carve into the beast until nothing is left behind save for a small, glittering object that falls down onto the sidewalk in front of the building, unidentifiable from the current distance. With that, the dimensional disruption seems to stop, and pedestrians wandering aimlessly around distant buildings come into view.

Carefully, the man on the roof makes his way back down to the group, no longer having distance or darkness obscuring his features. The man appears to be no older than 30 at the most; a pair of yellow, round-rimmed glasses sitting atop his dark, round face; soft, green eyes staring out from behind him. The man's hair seems to be up in some small, tight braids that have been pulled into something like a ponytail; a gradient from a deep turquoise to a brilliant green color. His outfit seems to be some common street clothes; a purple jacket resting over a black shirt and some dark colored jeans over some white sneakers. Slung over his shoulder is what appears to be an old, blue gym bag of some sort; one of the ends has clearly been sewn shut several times over, a multitude of colorful threads sewn across in various patterns, some with added flair, as if it had become something of a game to whoever's been mending it. There are several patches ironed and sewn on across the bag as well; some with names or dates on them; some shaped like stars, or musical notes, or other miscellaneous things.

Letting out a sigh of relief, the man addresses the group again. "Thanks for the help! Couldn't have done it without you." Daedalus: What. Was. That?

he’s based off this guy, so imagine that when he plays!

He dispels his bow and pushes his sunglasses back up against his face, having slid down his nose slightly during the man's musical onslaught. "Did you just play an instrument so hard that you shredded that thing apart?" ???: I mean, yeah, I guess. Seems like it ran in the family. Magic, I mean; not...music, but that did too. Daedalus: Just who are you, anyway? ???: Folks around here call me Falsetto; but you guys can call me TJ.

short for Terrence Jones! neither of those are his last name

TJ’s our Daedalus’ bf!

Collin: So is this how you normally spend your evenings, or is this a recent thing? TJ: Well, those...things started showing up about 7 months ago. Nobody knows where they came from, and nobody knows what they are. Once something stops being a part of the body, it just...disappears; and if you kill 'em, then nothing gets left behind...

He glances off where the object fell. "...Most of the time." Daedalus: Oh right, I thought I heard something when you blew that thing apart. Did it leave us a present? Walking over to where the object fell on the sidewalk, TJ brings back some unrecognizable, crystalline mass twisted up in all different directions. "Just another one of these. I'd say about a third of these things leave one behind..."

Demo: ...It looks so...sad...who's art project broke out of an eldritch seal?

alienrabitt: 7 months ago...did, uhh...anything else show up?

TJ: Not that I've seen, why?

alienrabitt: Well, something else happened about that long ago, but we weren't here... Daedalus: Uh, someone want to get me up to speed here? I wasn't exactly around back then. You guys didn't break something, did you? alienrabitt: The opposite, actually. We kinda...fixed a god? Collin: But why would putting Phoenix back together make these things? alienrabitt: Well, um...I know that thing's really messed up, but...has anyone killed a shalvenn before? I mean, everyone kept saying it corrupted their bodies; why couldn't it ruin their oracles?

Demo: Wait, so you think these things are saas?

alienrabitt: Um, well, were...

Demo: That's bullshit; nobody here could be corrupting saas like this, especially if nobody else even has magic.

Maya: But you don't need bad magic to make a kleivenn into a shalvenn; Jay started turning just because he kept messing things up...

alienrabitt: H-hey, it was...more complicated than that...! Collin: But why would saas start corrupting more once Phoenix was back? Wouldn't the opposite make more sense? alienrabitt: No, no, I think it's that saas started showing up because Phoenix came back, but something is making them go bad!

Demo: But how would anybody here even know about what a saa is...? Daedalus: I get the feeling we're talking over TJ's head a little here at this point. How 'bout it, maestro? You know anything about magical creatures or anything that could turn them into those things? TJ: I've only seen the monsters; I don't know anything about them...nothing else weird's been happening. Collin: Something isn't right here. There has to be something that's causing saas to corrupt like this, but what? TJ: Your guess is as good as mine. I haven't found any leads on any of this...

Demo: Maybe if we took all those fucked up oracles to Phoenix she'd know what's happening? Even if she can't fix the saas, she could probably find out what happened before they...got twisty... Daedalus: Is that a patented term?

Collin: I think it's worth a shot, at least. Probably the best lead we've got at the moment. TJ: Then I'll have to go get the rest from my place. I don't carry 'em around in case somethin' comes out of 'em. Daedalus: You've got a collection of these things? TJ: Hey, I wasn't gonna leave 'em in the city! What if they reformed or somethin'? Daedalus: I doubt your closet or wherever you're keeping them is gonna hold up much better, but I get what you're saying. How many do you have? TJ: I'd say about 7; 8 including this one. Nothing else left one behind.

alienrabitt: You were probably breaking them...

TJ: Can't help it; my music's not precise. Collin: Let's not worry about that right now. We should take the rest that you have to Phoenix and see if she can figure out what's going on here. TJ: Alright; sounds good with me. I'll go get 'em and meet you back at your vending machine. Daedalus: I'm surprised you're not more confused about that one... TJ: I'm more confused about why you put a keypad on it... Daedalus: Hey, I didn't make the thing. Talk to that guy if you're giving critique.

He jabs a thumb over his shoulder in Jay's direction. alienrabitt: In my defense, it didn't look like a vending machine when I built it... Collin: It was also way more cramped inside though... alienrabitt: I didn't make it for like...four people; I just needed to get out of the session...y'know, 'cause I was the only one left.

TJ: I don't know what you guys are going on about, but I'm gonna go home to get the...whatever you called these things.

He shakes the twisted oracle a little for emphasis before turning to walk away.

Maya: You sure you should go alone? What if one of those things pops out?

TJ: I've got my instrument. Daedalus: If we hear another concert starting, we'll come running. With a dismissive wave, TJ heads for the eastern part of the city.

Daedalus taps his foot impatiently as TJ starts to walk away, a pensive look on his face, then lets out an annoyed groan before he begins to follow after him.   "Hang on, someone needs to go with you. If another one of those things shows up, you're gonna need someone to run interference." TJ: Suit yourself. Just don't get lost; not like you could... Daedalus: I don't intend to sightsee, don't worry about me. The pair heads off into the night, no passerbys nor cars paying them much mind. Daedalus: This place seems awfully tame considering their nightlife includes giant balls of arms and teeth, doesn't it? TJ: Well, most people can't see those things. It's like they exist in a separate dimension or somethin'... Daedalus: Oh right, forgot you said that earlier. That's pretty weird, considering most people can see kleivenn. Whatever's screwing with these saas must also be making them invisible to most people too. 'Course that begs the question of why we can see them... TJ: That's what I'd like to know. Daedalus: Guess that'll be Phoenix's job to explain. So, what did you do before taking up vigilante justice? Can't imagine fighting monsters was the first thing on your mind when you picked up... whatever that was you were playing. TJ: Not much. Dad was in music; mom...isn't around. I've been livin' with my aunt and uncle for a while now. Had a part time job as a barista for a little while, but I had to split the scene when some shit hit the fan at home. Daedalus: Ah, sorry to hear. So you don't have much luck with family stuff either then, huh? TJ: My dad's a real in and out kind of guy. Always has some new big project he's gotta get to; and, I mean, I don't mind, but when the family business became my business, I just wish everyone'd been honest with me from the start. Daedalus: Family business? TJ: Magical affairs; keeping the city safe from things that bump in the night; like these weird mouth things. Daedalus: Ah, so you suddenly found out that you're from a line of magical crime fighters. I guess that was probably a more interesting talk than the birds and the bees though. TJ: Less crime, more monsters. This whole area's got a long history of magic users; but a lot of the people here try to keep it a secret. Doesn't change the fact that there's something in the area that's basically a magnet for trouble, though; so every time some new kind of monster or somethin' comes tearing through a district, people just cover it up and move on. Daedalus: Is that so? Hmm...

He seems to drift off in thought about something, too far to finish a proper response.

watcha thinkin’ sunshine?

A little confused by the reaction, TJ ultimately doesn't confront Daedalus over it as he reaches the house his aunt and uncle live in.

"...You can come in if you want; I've never brought anyone home, but they'll probably be happy about it." Daedalus: Huh? Oh, uh, I guess? I figured I'd draw unwanted attention, but if you insist... TJ enters the house, entering a little room with some stairs to the left; a doorway to the kitchen on the right; and an open path to the living room straight ahead, where TJ's uncle can be seen sleeping in front of a TV he forgot to turn off while a couple of children play on the floor in front of it. One of the kids, a little girl with her poofy hair pulled into a pair of pigtails, glances up from their toys to wave at TJ, only to notice Daedalus and point it out to the little boy across from her. Excitedly, the kids get up, sneak around the uncle, and meet TJ at the base of the stairs.

???: You brought somebody home! You never bring people home! Who is he? Is he your friend?

TJ: Somethin' like that. Hey, Mika, keep it down, alright? Uncle Tom's trying to sleep; don't get grounded.

The little girl rolls her eyes, crossing her arms as she gives TJ a particular look. "I won't..."

With a little smirk, she glances over at Daedalus, then back at TJ. "Risa's gonna get mad if she finds out you came home this late again."

TJ: Yeah, well, she's gonna be mad if she finds out you two're still up too, so we should all be goin' upstairs.

Grabbing the little boy's hand, Mika rolls her eyes again as she heads upstairs. "Somebody had to wait for you..." Daedalus glances over at TJ. "Siblings, I'm guessing?" TJ: Niece and nephew, actually. Daedalus: Ah, gotcha. Sounds like you get along, at least. TJ: We try.

Heading upstairs, TJ goes off to what's presumably his room, then comes back downstairs with a backpack in his hands. "Alright, let's get outta here before anyone wakes up." Daedalus: You got it. You leaving a note or something? I get the impression that you're coming with us to sort this out. TJ: Nah, they're used to me going in and out too. They know what I'm doing. Daedalus: Fair enough. After you, then. TJ backtracks back into the city and starts heading back towards where he saw the IT. "So, do you guys just...show up in places?"

Daedalus: Sometimes. Other times we choose where we land! We basically just follow the smell of trouble and help where we can. It makes for a very, uh... adventurous lifestyle. TJ: Don't you get tired of it? Daedalus: I haven't been at it for as long as the others, so I'm not exactly burnt out yet. I've definitely seen it wear on some of the older members though. Not sure what the long term plan is there, frankly. TJ: Why're you all doin' that anyway? Do you have to? Daedalus: I think everyone has their own reasons. It started out as one thing, but as more and more people started to join up with us, it kinda turned into what it is now. Just a ragtag group working to make things better for others, and all that other sappy nonsense. TJ: I guess that makes sense; but why not just...have people stay where they're needed? Daedalus: Not everyone has a place to go back to, including yours truly. Hell, most of us don't, really. That soda machine's all we've got. TJ: So you're a bunch of...homeless orphan superheroes? Daedalus: Now you're gettin' it! TJ: I mean, I guess I know why you do it, but you can't solve everybody's problems forever... Daedalus: I'm not arguing with you there, but we don't have a lot of other options right now. I'm sure some day we'll hang up our hats and move to the countryside or go our separate ways or... whatever people do when they stop adventuring. Mm...

He makes a face like something he thought about left a bad taste in his mouth.

[bastille voice] and you’re scared of being left behind

TJ: ...Well, I'm sure everyone's gonna be needing you guys for a long time. However long that is.

The pair returns to the IT's location. "Anyway, guess you should let me in." Daedalus: Oh, right.

He swings the door open and lets TJ go inside before him, closing the door behind them as he follows TJ in.

I know it’s been like 3 seasons since it’s been relevant but there’s a code you need to unlock the door to the IT, and it’s “CC”

"Well, welcome to the IT. It's a lot bigger than you expected, probably." TJ: I mean...it is; I was just expecting a couple of rooms or somethin'; but this thing's a spaceship, huh?

Paprika: Not too far off!

TJ: ...Well, uhh...where do we need to go? Collin: Kujaar, the only kleivenn city around as far as I know. That's where Phoenix lives, and hopefully she'll know what's happening to all of these saas. Are the oracles you found in that bag? TJ: Yeah; all the ones so far. Hopefully there won't be more of those things while I'm gone. Daedalus: Shouldn't be too long. Do we have an ETA on that, Paprika? Paprika: Same day; shouldn't take longer than half an hour. Daedalus: There you have it. Not bad for hopping across worlds and dimensions, huh? TJ: That's genuinely impressive. Alright; let's get these things to Phoenix. The IT heads for Kujaar, where it eventually lands. Nine greets the group upon arrival, but has no further questions beyond who TJ is before allowing everyone back into Kujaar. Collin: Well that's good, we've brought new people here once or twice before, but I wasn't sure how smoothly that was gonna go. alienrabitt: Usually they're more wary of humans...guess they didn't care this time. Daedalus: I'm guessing they trust us not to drag in someone that's going to cause problems, so don't go blowing our winning streak now, TJ. TJ: I'll keep the violins to a minimum, then. Daedalus: Was... that a pun? Paprika: Yes; and sax is out of the question!

Daedalus: Oh hell, I thought it was just Clair but it's already spreading. Demo: Hey, if puns are the worst thing he can do, I welcome the change of pace. Daedalus: True, he hasn't pulled a gun on anyone yet, so credit where it's due. Maya: It was one time...

alienrabitt: Uhh, I guess we should go talk to Phoenix about this stuff? Collin: That's the plan. I just hope she doesn't get too freaked out by a bag of oracles... Jay; TJ; Daedalus; Collin; and Clair all head off to Phoenix, who seems as pleasantly surprised as ever to have the company.

Phoenix: You're back again! And with such an interesting group again; you're always so full of surprises...! Collin: It's in our nature, I suppose. Anyway, we have something we were hoping you might be able to help us with. It turns out that saas are beginning to show up again, but... well... TJ: Well, I don't know if these are saas, but they're certainly...somethin'...

Opening the backpack, TJ shows Phoenix one of the twisted oracles.

Practically lying down to get closer to everyone's level, Phoenix squints at the backpack before shaking her head. "These aren't kleivenn. They look like they were made with the intention of looking like kleivenn, but they aren't quite right...something else is making these by itself." Daedalus: Someone's making bootleg kleivenn? I didn't even think that was possible. Phoenix: By all accounts, it shouldn't be possible to make a kleivenn from scratch; but...I don't know about these things. It looks like...like somebody heard about a saa, then tried to make one from memory.

alienrabitt: But how would anybody there even know about kleivenn? Didn't the war cover them up?

Phoenix: Here, yes; but we are an alien race. It's entirely possible they could exist beyond this planet. Collin: So someone or something back in TJ's world remembers kleivenn and is trying to make them itself? I don't suppose that rings any bells, does it? TJ: This is the first I've heard or even seen of all this stuff; so unfortunately, I don't think I'm gonna figure this out any time soon... Daedalus: Can we use one of those fake oracles to find the thing that made it? Phoenix: I could probably draw the memories out of it, but I don't know how well it would react. Collin: Do you think it would wake up and attack again? Phoenix: These things are twisted and ruined because they're unstable; who or whatever made them did it very hastily. I'm more worried the thing could detonate; and now that it's around actual kleivenn, if it woke up, who knows what it would do in its desperation to complete itself.

they’re eating metal because they’re mistaking it for oracles

Daedalus: Let's... not do that then, perhaps. That does leave us with the question of "how the hell do we find the source of these things", though. Phoenix: Unfortunately, I don't have any other answers for you, unless you can find a kleivenn that can definitely keep these things dormant while looking for answers... Daedalus thinks for a second, then reaches out behind Clair and gives her a fairly hefty pat on the back. "Found one."

Phoenix: ...You can?

Clair: I...haven't really tried anything like that, but maybe I could...

alienrabitt: Let's just be ready in case it tries to get back up again anyway. Daedalus forms a two-handed hammer in his hands and rests it on his shoulder. "You got it." Taking one of the twisted oracles from TJ's backpack, Clair sits on the floor with it in her hands, closing her eyes as she quietly begins to focus. She seems to look a little nervous every once in a while before she speaks again.

"...It looks like there's...a book? Somebody has a book somewhere...I can't quite tell...somebody young, but not a kid...I think they're a girl? She's sneaking off with something that doesn't belong to her...to a place nobody really goes...these things don't look so bad when she makes them...little marbles; tiny creatures..."

She puts the oracle back in the bag.

"...I...I can't figure anything else out; sorry..." Daedalus: Don't worry too much, it's better than nothing. Does that give you anything to work with, maestro? TJ: It's...close enough; uhh. A part of the city nobody really goes to, but it's close enough somebody could keep sneaking something like a book out to...I think I can find where that is. Daedalus: Look at that, Clair saves the day!

Dispelling his hammer, he reaches down to help Clair up off the floor. Accepting the help up, Clair quietly glances away before looking to TJ. "I don't think she's doing it to hurt anybody; I think she just...doesn't want to be alone. That or she's just practicing magic..."

TJ: The first time I saw one of those things, it swallowed a tanker whole. If I hadn't stopped it, it would've eaten an entire bridge. This is a little more than practice; even if she doesn't know what's happening. Daedalus: She's just worried about the girl. The monsters we can stop however we need to. TJ: ...I know; I just don't want this getting even more out of hand. Collin: We're with you there, don't worry.

Daedalus: Sounds like we're done here, then. Let's pile back inside and make our way back. You said you think you know where this girl might be, right TJ?

TJ: Well, I think I might know the area, but I'm not so sure I'll be able to find the exact building...

Daedalus: I mean, we just gotta find the one that monsters keep popping out of. Probably got some busted doors, maybe some holes in the walls, all that good stuff.

TJ: You've...got a point, yeah.Clair: But I don't think they're big and scary when they first show up; I think something's just...making them like that? I don't think it's the girl that's bringing them out, though...

Collin: I thought you said that she was making them just a minute ago. Or do you just mean she's not making them like that?

Clair: She's creating the things that are leaving these oracles behind, but they don't start out as those weird mouth things...

Collin: That's what I meant, yeah.Daedalus: Well, we're not gonna find 'em sticking around here, I can tell you that much.

Let's head back to TJ's place and see if we can track this book down, then.

Daedalus: Sounds like a plan.

Collin: Thanks for your help, Phoenix!

Phoenix: I wish you luck in helping these poor creatures find their peace./The group returns to the IT, which returns to the station it had previously parked at when the group had met TJ.

TJ: So, do we wanna split up or somethin'? I doubt we're gonna need a huge group, though...

Collin: I guess that depends on how long you think it'll take to search. If it's a big area, more people might help. If it's not so big, we might not need to.

TJ: I'd say the part of town that matched that description is roughly a block or two big.

Daedalus: Bah, that's not so bad. Alright, so who wants to go hunting for a monster factory?

I don’t think griffin’d appreciate these monsters

Demo, Jay, and Clair remain around.

Collin, Daedalus, and Fawkes also remain behind.

TJ: Alright, so this thing's probably gonna be in the northeastern district.

Fawkes: What makes you suspect that area?

TJ: Only one school nearby; a lot of businesses are pretty close; it's backed by the ocean; and there's a lot of empty buildings closer to the docks.

Daedalus: Sounds like a plan. I'll bet she's in one of the empty buildings in that case.

TJ: Just don't go racing around or anything. This kid's sneaking off with something she's not supposed to have, doing something she knows is wrong; if she thinks she'll get caught, she'll try to run or hide.

Daedalus: Don't you worry, fiddler man. I don't make a habit of running off on my own.

it’s a violin :/

The group heads for the northeast side of town, and TJ stands at the edge of the two blocks the girl could be at. "...Your best bet will be a building with a lot of metal missing. If these things eat metal to get bigger, people won't be parking cars or anything close to where stuff's gone missing."

Daedalus: If push comes to shove, we could always have tiny over here run around and try to lure 'em out.

Fawkes: I am not going to be monster bait!

TJ: Let's not get anyone eaten...

Daedalus: Fine, fine, I'll just rattle some tin cans or something then.

Collin: I guess we should start looking around, then. I get the feeling it'll be obvious when we start getting close.

The group searches around for a bit until they eventually find that a lot of cars seem to be parking on the opposite side of half of one of the two blocks, narrowing down the location of the building to that area.

Fawkes: I think we're getting closer now. I haven't detected anything too out of the ordinary yet, however.

TJ: We're definitely in the right place; just gotta find the right building...

Daedalus: My money's still on the one that looks the most abandoned or trashed.

Demo: I dunno, if these things started turning into creepy mouth monsters in front of a kid, don't you think she'd quit trying to make more?

Daedalus: I... can't argue there.

Collin: I guess all that we can do now is poke around and see if anyone is inside.

The group continues to look around the area, but there are no obvious signs of anyone breaking into any of the abandoned buildings. There is, however, a building missing its entire fire escape.

Fawkes: That seems to be a safety code violation. Do you think this might be our place?

Demo: I don't know what else'd strip a building of an entire fire escape...

Daedalus: Someone who really needs a nice set of stairs?

Collin: I kiiinda doubt that. Let's see if we can get inside.

It looks like some of the boards that have been sealing one of the windows up have all had nails pried open on various sides, allowing them to be rotated in a way that unobstructs the entire window, but only if all of them are rotated in very specific ways

alienrabitt: This kid seriously didn't want to make it look like anyone was coming in and out of here...

Daedalus: I get that she stole some special book or whatever, but she's acting like she's running a damn meth lab or something. Is the book really that big of a deal?

TJ: Is she trying to hide the book, or is she hiding from something...?

Collin: If that's the case, we need to find her first.

Demo: Do we seriously have the time to look through all these rooms?

Daedalus: Unless you've got a faster way, I'm not sure what else we can do.

Demo: What, can't the brave little machine gun scan for heat signatures or some shit?

that’s just the worst nickname possible

Fawkes: Already on it. Also don't call me that, please.

Aside from everybody on ground level, there's only one other person visible near the upper floors. They seem to have a couple of smaller, cooler signatures with them as well.

Fawkes: I see three signatures up above us. One is human, but the other two are unidentifiable. I assume they're more of those creatures in their early stages.

Clair: We can go look, but maybe you should, um...stay in the hall or something? If they get bigger when they eat metal...

Fawkes: I suppose that would be the best choice. Stay safe, I'll be waiting.

The remainder of the group heads up to where Fawkes found the heat signature, where they hear a young girl quietly talking to what are presumably the smaller monsters. "...You guys sure are hungry. That's all the screws I could sneak out from around town, though; you're just gonna have to wait til next weekend. But maybe you'll run off too. Seriously, how do you guys keep sneaking out of here...?"

Collin: Uh... excuse us? You might want to stop feeding those things, they're kinda making a huge mess when they get out of here.

The girl quickly drops something as she rushes over to the edge of the doorway, though she makes a point not to look into the hallway as she addresses the group. "Wh-who are you?! How'd you get in here?!"

TJ: Calm down; we're not here to hurt you. Your little friends in there just have some seriously big appetites, and the ones that are sneaking out have been eating cars and stuff.

???: "Wh-what?! Cars?! They can't eat--...!! They're...they're not even the size of a house cat! I know they eat fast, but...!"

Daedalus: Yeah, well, turns out things grow if you keep feeding 'em, kid. It's all fun and games until your little metal muncher is the size of a small house.

???: "That would take ages! They're just animals! ...I think..."

Demo: Yeah, animals that come out of a magic book and eat nothing but metal; totally normal.

???: "...Look, what do you want? If you're not here 'cause you're gonna rat me out, you're here for something else, right?"

Collin: We're here to stop whatever was creating these creatures you're making. I don't know why you have that book or why you're making these things, but you've got to stop. They're wreaking havoc once they get out of here.

???: "I just wanted to see a kleivenn up close! But they're starting out so small...I thought I needed to raise it or something; maybe that'd make it be like a real one..."

alienrabitt: Wait, so you know these things aren't actually kleivenn?

???: "I thought I could make one. This book's all about kleivenn; so I figured I could just...make one."

Collin: Trust us, it's not working the way you think it is. I don't even think you can make a kleivenn that way.

???: "How would you know?"

Demo: Two of us are kleivenn; will you come out now?

???: "You're just saying that to make me stop!"

Daedalus: No, seriously. The wonder-twins here are both fullblown kleivenn.

???: "Prove it!"

Rolling her eyes, Demo shoves Jay through the door into the room with the girl. "Would a human have an arm like that?"

alienrabitt: H-hey!!

The girl's quiet for a little bit before she lets Jay open the door the rest of the way as she heads back to the back of the room.

???: "...I...don't know what to say..."

Collin: Hey, don't go shoving him around like that! Why do you even want to see a kleivenn so bad anyway?

???: This book just makes them sound cool, so I wanted to see one...

Daedalus: .... Well, at least she's easy to read.

TJ: How'd you get a book like that, anyway? Those things aren't even from around here.

???: Oh, my dad got it from one of his business partners! He said the guy works with a kleivenn called, uhh...A Bus?

alienrabitt: ...A bus...? I don't think anyone's named after a bus...

???: He said they're named A Bus; not named after a bus...

Demo is suddenly trying to find a way out of the building without drawing any attention to herself.

Collin: ... Are you sure he didn't say "Anubis"?

???: No, not A new Bus, his name is A Bus.

Daedalus: Uh, Demo, where are you going?

Demo keeps her voice low, but urgent as she answers: "Anywhere but here! I don't know who the hell she's talking about, but every anubis I have is telling me that kleivenn's worse news than Xentrilis."

Daedalus unconsciously lowers his voice to match. "So you're just keeping that little tidbit to yourself?"

Demo: What am I supposed to do?! My anubis can't talk like we can; whatever I understand is the equivalent of trying to translate a phrase through six different languages before you can even get a word everybody else recognizes! I don't know who they're afraid of, or why; I just know that whoever's with that kleivenn is...whoever's with that kleiven is responsible for the whole war...

Daedalus: They're WHAT?

The little girl peaks into the hallway to look at Daedalus and Demo, though she locks her gaze with Demo. Speaking softly, she addresses Demo: "...Aren't you gonna let me see you too?"

Without even humoring her with a response, Demo summons forth the Candy Cane, smashes the nearest window open, and practically throws herself out of it, shifting to a massive, black sand dragon with a large, yellow stripe running all the way down its back as she races away from the building as quickly as possible. A little stunned, the girl backs back into the room. "Um...your friend just left..."

there’s Y, so we’ve seen R and Y now I think?

Daedalus: Yeah, because that book of yours is from someone who's worse news than an eye surgeon with Parkinson's. If I were you, I'd ditch that book and go back to whatever it is you were doing before you took up summoning these little shits.

???: But...! But I just wanted to see one first...! There's none left here! Dad said they're never gonna come back...!

Collin: Why'd he say that?

???: Because he and his friends don't want them here anymore...but you guys are here, so maybe they're gonna come back if I keep trying!

alienrabitt: N-no, we only show up if something bad is happening; we show up to stop things...

???: But...why would you wanna stop me? I just wanna bring the kleivenn back here...

TJ: Maybe they weren't sent here to stop you...tell you what, you quit bringing those little guys out of that book, and we'll make sure the kleivenn come back, alright?

???: How can I trust you?

Daedalus: Two of us are kleivenn and we haven't even tried to take your book despite the fact that you keep summoning monsters out of it. What more do you want, a friendship bracelet?

A little skeptical, the girl closes up the book, though the two small monsters continue to scavenge around the room, searching for scraps of metal. Neither of them are much bigger than a softball at the moment, essentially beaks with tiny bird feet and three tiny, slitted, yellow eyes on their faces. One of them is softly pecking at Collin's boot, though it doesn't seem to be doing much to it.

Collin: Hey, hey! You get away from that!

He pulls his left leg back and nudges the creature back with his other foot.

The monster hops a bit, peeping softly, though it can't seem to do much else than protest.

it’s....cute...............

Daedalus: Alright, so problem one solved. Now we've gotta find Demo and figure out what the hell to do about this bus guy.

alienrabitt: Easier said than done...

Daedalus: Tell me about it. Why the hell did she have to go and take off like that...?

Clair: I guess we'll have to ask her...

Collin: Does she have a communicator on her? It has a GPS thing in it, right?

alienrabitt: She should...

Collin fishes his communicator out of his cloak and fiddles with the screen for a few moments, trying to figure out how to find Demo.

Managing to get to the locaters, there are two obvious groups, one where Collin is, and one where the IT is. Counting the icons, it seems like Demo's returned to the IT.

Collin: Oh, I think she just went back to the IT. Either that or she left it there...

alienrabitt: Let's hope she just went home...

Daedalus: Let's at least go look. If she's not there, we're seriously up a creek.

Reuniting with Fawkes, the group returns to the IT, where Silky; Firefly; Maya; and Karumet are all waiting outside with Demo.

Maya: That kid didn't do anything weird, did she?

Collin: Aside from thinking these weird bird things were kleivenn, not really. She's just a little uninformed about kleivenn.

Firefly squints in the darkness. "There's something trying to climb into your boot..."

Collin: Wh- I told you to shoo!

He bends down and hastily plucks the little creature out of his shoe and holds it out away from himself.

There's a small tinkling sound as the little bird monster's tiny legs kick against Collin's leg, the bird itself squawking in protest as it wiggles around in his grasp. Its beak does not open, however, as it seems to be holding something in it.

Collin: H-Hey, that better not be a piece of my leg!

Holding the bird firmly in one hand, he grabs onto the object in its beak with the other hand and tries to pull it out.

It is not a piece of his leg, but rather, one of the shards that should be inside of it. The shard seems to be entirely unharmed, but is no longer glowing.

Maya: That...doesn't look good.

Collin: How did you even...? That was inside a glass chamber!

Silky: Did it peck through it?

Maya: Wouldn't he have heard that?

Firefly: We can't take that thing onto the IT...we'll have to get rid of it here. I guess Collin's still able to walk alright if he got this far with that thing messing around...you guys go inside and see what you can do about that; I'll deal with the bird.

With a slight hint of reluctance, Collin hands the bird over to Firefly and heads inside the IT.

Clair: I guess we'll try to look into whoever's been getting rid of the kleivenn here. Are you gonna try too?

TJ: Yeah; I'll let you guys know what I find out.

Daedalus: Running your own investigation, huh?

TJ: Better to have people looking around in as many places as possible, right?

Daedalus: I guess. Just be careful you don't get in over your head. This "Abus" person is sounds like some seriously bad news, even by our standards.

it’s actually spelled Aebos but we’ll learn more about them later

TJ: Trust me, I'll let you know if something weird happens that I can't handle.

Daedalus: Sounds like a plan, then.

With that, the group returns to the IT.

alrighty, idk what happens next but that’s that log finally, lol

#[S4]

[pinksweatergettingbetter]

MAYA I TRUSTED YOU

WHAT WOULD WILL POWERS SAY

ok he'd probably be like ‘hehe; guess I'm falling further into obscurity thats cool i was never amazing in the first place’

-

“theres only one!”

...that is rare

-

“i traded my watch to my kooraheenese friend! it plays the steel samurai theme when it goes off!”

I SMELL A CHEKOVS GUN

-

“it sounds just like the steel samurai theme”

“no it doesn't!”

mayas right, it doesn't sound like the steel samurai's theme. 

it sounds BAD.

seriously i feel like my soul is physically rejecting it 

-

put your arms akimbo at me again young lady and ill push you into your magic soul pool.

-

“that whole séance thing makes trials completely different”

meh

speaking of trials, we’re back to trials! ya–– i dont want to deal with nahyuta

-

“you have to pitch your terrible crossover!! i won't let you down”

as much as i disapprove of the crossover let it be known that phoenix is a sweetie pie.

-

“The sacred murder dagger was used to murder someone?!?!??! BLASPHEMY!!!”

-

“The lowest level of hell; the Hell of Tickling” IM KINKSHAMING KOOORAHEENISM

-

“They shall not escape on their /redtext/ Freedom Express today!”

she did it yaaaaayy!

-

U R DIARHOEA!!! KOORAHEEN!!!

well i

i cant argue....

-

oh god no t voice acting again

-

LOL YOU CAN SKIP IT AHAHHAHHA

AND THE DANCE TOO HJDSJSFAKJ

guess its not *that* important eh

-

the entire court just called phoenix a shithead. 

i mean people say “Polkhunka” when theyre surprised, and the term is “polkhunan”. so yeah. either hellion, or shithead. nice.

-

phoenix: this makes no sense 

me: ooh i cant wait for the bullshit excuse!! 

-

Well ill be damned to tickle-hell. Rayfa’s a television aerial. 

-

oh i see how they did that. i guess spirit visions have steady-cam?

-

.........he ran right into it

dude why 

-

i just love this. “yes he ran directly at the killer, to fight them! with his arms flailing in terror!! it might look stupid and fake but actually it’s kooraheen’s biggest martial art, RonDeliteFu!”

-

every time Rayfa does her hand-flinging-out pose i mistake her sash for a stick and i keep thinking she’s a muppet 

-

“we can’t let the special fires go out, so we make sure to remove the glass around them every year on top of a window mountain so that a woman can um...... walk around it i guess.”

-

i hate to admit it but these stupid pond vision things are really stumping my blind ass

-

i stg pohlkunka is the stupidest sounding made-up expletive ive ever heard

id rather heard cowabunga every time something shocking happens for godssakes

-

“wow he really does care about ema”

hey show dont tell lol

“i cant believe he's come to understand their value”

uhhh well

they stated that they still hold investigations despite their magic pool parties, so uhhhhhhh yeah???? forensic investigators are usually pretty helpful??

-

since Sadmad’s catchphrase appears to be ‘putrid’, i keep reading ‘purification rite’ as ‘putrification rite’

-

i cant believe they did a “what if... (EXTREME CLOSE UP ZOOM) PLOT TWIST?!”

-

STOP SAYING PUTRID

-

oh hey its dirty hobo man! ...also i guess the ‘sexy pan up shot’ is for every new character :/

-

hobo rangers go...

-

...Nahyuta named him A’nohn Ihmus. A’nohn Ihmus.

Well that just cements my idea that Kooraheenians are just a bunch of Americans that stole a landmass and made up a phony baloney culture. 

It has been confirmed that they are legitimately just taking english words and ‘kooraheenifying’ them.

-

“i used my binoculars to spy on the rite at the inner sanctum”

A’nohn is just as perverted as his namesake from Tuhmbl’r

-

“Feh. I knew you were a fool...” 

Cue Franziska crashing her plane into the court room to yank on Sadmad’s braid to scold him for taking her word.

-

“shall be reborn as a witless sea urchin with barbs limited to your posterior”

ok well sadmad, sea urchins asses are next to their mouths... on the bottom of them. completely opposite to the, uh, you know. Spiky part.

So I’m not sure if that serves to strengthen your point or just make you look like a moron

i mean i guess it served to enhance sadmad’s point since phoenix’d be totally smooth and unprotected, but then he wouldn’t even reach adulthood so that sea otter wouldn’t come in too early and...

...he just said phoenix will be reborn as not only mentally slow but also physically deformed.

...uh... nice one, sadmad.

-

AND MAYA PULLED A REACHAROUND ON THE PRIEST 

YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST FROM THE HOLY MONK, GUYS

-

to be fair, she could have stabbed him with a reverse-grip or not; one doesn’t have to hold their hand at any particular to perform a reach around 

-

oh well at least the contradiction is incredibly obvious 

-

at least hobo ranger has an excuse to use words like “bucko”

-

i hate that,,,, theres a rule against climbing the mountains during the rite. that means that there have been perverts of yore who tried to spy on the lady changing 

-

hes gonna see her shad–– (sigh)

yknow, i dont think shadows are detailed enough to know which way someone is holding a knife.

also moonlight isn't that bright 

-

DWAAYYYYMMMN

sasquatch’d!!

-

ok so... does happiraki mean “hello” or “hooray!” because its been used it both contexts 

-

i just realized that the Plumed Punisher theme song sounds like one of those posts where someone takes a recognizable song and fucks with it in a silly way, like pitch shifting it at awkward moments or changing the key

-

i cannot believe i have to use a fucking walkthrough for this game. I'm disgusted with myself. I'm better than this.

-

“no one was allowed in there and the only way up were the stairs!”

ah yes, the unguarded stairs surrounded by people who had their heads down. in prayer.

totally impenetrable. 

-

“What?! This is insane!!” no no, phoenix, youre doing it wrong. you have to say “this”, then sadmad has to say “is” and then the judge has to yell “insaaaaane!!” because its funny when one person says one word of a sentence each!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-

‘rah rah sis boom bah, fight, fight, phoenix wright!!”

um excuse me maya who gave you the right to be cute

-

why does sadmad only have one hand-guard-glove thingy

-

“my bag of bluffs” is an interesting and long way to say “ass”

-

they put... a maximum security prison... on top of their holy mountain. they put their criminals... on top of their. holy mountain.

they put a jail. in a church. in fact they put it higher up... closer to... god. 

what the fuck. the fourth one. only accessible by helicopter.

who was smoking what when they decided this???

-

(sigh) mmmmm id been waiting to use that patchwork quilt

-

“hell of hangnails”

not as fetishy but still pretty–– actually you know what that sounds kinda fucked up. isn't that just kinda G rated torture anyway 

-

wow that incredibly obvious lie deserves the terrible pursuit theme??

maybe its the last one (i hope)

-

“are you the rebel hunter!!??!?!?!??”

um well no, unless the rebel hunter is a criminal. jackass.

-

...cutting dirty deals with criminals, are we, sadmad?

-

“haha, the fact that the third person at the scene was a wanted criminal destroys your theory that it was the rebel hunter Keera that killed the high priest!!”

...wow... gosh i was wrong... and the fact that a wanted criminal was actually at the scene... doesn’t help me at all... because once i said that one person didi it, it couldn’t possibly be someone else... oh no... i guess it was Maya who did it... for reals... not the.... wanted criminal....

-

...hang on, his little power rangers dance was the defiant dragons dance? how... did nobody notice this?? sadmad really was colluding with criminals wasn’t he. gosh. what a trustworthy guy.

-

phoenix: oh no!! his testimony was a lie!!

oh no! the testimony that did nothing but damage your case was a lie!!! 

??????

-

sadmad: get him!

hobo ranger: (does a little hop and daintily scurries off)

sadmad: ... (takes a good five leisurely seconds to stop the background music) put everyone on high alert. i want everyone after that guy

that guy who just. skipped out of a courtroom. past hundreds of crazy people and several bailiffs. 

haha... the kooraheenes police. to quote phelous... THEY’RE THE BEST!

-

“what was the point of all that, anyway?”

search me, phoenix.

“well, i cant help but feel that entire episode was an enormous waste of time”

hey capcom? hanging a lampshade on it doesn’t make it better. it just amplifies how much it sucks.

-

“yes! i recognized that piece of paper because it looks exactly like the piece i have! thats covered in blood and unrecognizable!!!”

...nice

OH AND ITS THE PERFECT FIT TO COVER THE BLOODSTAIN WELL ISNT THAT JUST FUCKIN SERENDIPITOUS 

-

“the ignorant lawyer has not bothered to learn out language??”

well A) he's not an international attorney, B) he was on vacation, not studying abroad, and C) fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. you’re all speaking english all the time anyway, you bunch of fuckin phoneys 

-

i stg sadmad if you say putrid one more time i’ll cram a rotten egg down your pasty white gullet and show you the meaning of the word 

-

“the criminal could have only escaped if the high priest helped him out, so why would he kill him?”

hey sadmad? remember that thing about using your putrid brain? yeah, doesn’t take too big a leap to realize that you might’ve just proved phoenix’s ‘idiot theory’ right. maybe the priest um... was a rebel??? who was going to do just that??? and the rebel killer offed his sorry ass?

perhaps, o foolish prosecutor, you should think before you open your rancid lips... lo, in your ignorance, you will be cast down to the hell of those who are kind of stupid....... the hell of perpetual fart smell. there you shall inhale the decomposing winds of ten thousand and one accursed mihtama, while fart fetishists gaze on in envy... 

oh wow i didnt even need to go on that spiel, he just admitted it straight up. but yeah, apparently when Lady Kee’ra impersonator kills a rebel, it’s A-OK. But when Maya kills a rebel, well, fuck, she’s a foreign bitch, execute her!!

also the way he said it seems to imply that he knew all along so uh

maybe people should start suspecting this guy. he seems to... know a lot of rebel criminals.

-

every time sadmad shakes his head i wanna break his neck

man i remember being annoyed at edgeworth in the first game and wanting to hop my desk and rough him up, but never wanting to physically maim or kill him. you suck, sadmad. 

-

WE GOT IT, FOLKS!! WE GOT THE ASSAULT!! IT’S UM, IT’S SUPERNATURAL FORCE ASSAULT THIS TIME. 

FUCK BIRDS AND SWORDS, I GUESS? ACTUAL MAGIC IS THE WAY TO GO?

hey sadmad; tickling? bondage? can we... keep that out of the courtroom please?

also “oh no! i can’t point my finger!!” phoenix cries, forgetting that he has two arms. i guess capcom won’t spring for more than one sprite tho haha

-

“the keera we saw was the statue draped in the sacred robes!”

with a... knife sticking out, apparently. ok..?

also gosh, maya’s really fast, tiptoeing around the abbot, draping the costume just so, then tiptoeing back around? like lightning she is!!

-

he just cut off his own theme song.

-

“she used her fiendish tricks to fool the court room”

which didn’t work at all if you remember the beginning of this court so fuck you?

-

“she sought to use the divination seance to mislead us!”

good going, pointing out an absolutely massive flaw in your country’s legal system, sadmad.

-

i cant believe we had a flashback for absolutely no other reason than Sadmad to gloat. I FILE FOR A MISTRIAL ON GROUNDS OF MISUSE OF FLASHBACKS.

-

please oh god just let it end i dont have enough space in my stomach for any more ulcers

i can’t stand hearing him say let it go one more time please I'm begging you

-

oh no... phoenix has failed... he’s going to die... it’s really going to happen...

just get to the surprise witness or whatever already

-

oh thank god. love you, headband guy

-

“the dagger bears the finger prints of maya fey!”

wow. the police suck major ass at catching running people, but their finger print checking speed is second-to-none. ...either that or they waited a while before telling people about a dead body.......

-

oh gosh!!! its totally maya!!! she arrived 2 years ago and so did lady keera and 

yeah no. it’s not her. 

but even if it was, kinda awkward there, sadmad? she’s um. kind of a hero to you.

-

i dont get it why is everyone freaking out. i thought the keera impersonator was considered some kind of vigilante hero? why is it suddenly bad when they “find out” it’s maya? is it because she isn't kooraheenees?

I'm honestly really confused. everyone was rooting for the masked defender one moment, but now that its maya, it’s murder?? 

seriously what the fuck. like the gallery was legit going “ah!! lady keera has come back to save us from the rebels!”

and then its like “its not divine its some foreign bitch in a cloak” and now its like SERIAL KILLER. also, nice. we’ve never been allowed another day in court because there was a second charge racked up. awesome. (with the possible exception of Ron Delite, tho he was changing his charge)

-

sadmad can go choke on his own braid and the gallery can lick their own hypocritical asses. i can’t believe i stayed up till 2 am to finish this section.

#sulking over SOJ #soj spoilers obvs] #it just keeps getting better........ and better..........