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#pgr wanshi x commandant
atrixamicus ยท 6 months
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+:๏ฝก.๏ฝก๐“‘๐“ฎ๐“ท๐“ฎ๐“ช๐“ฝ๐“ฑ ๐“ฃ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“ข๐“ฝ๐“ช๐“ป๐“ผ๏ฝก.๏ฝก:+
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๐™ฟ๐šŠ๐š’๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š/๐šœ: ๐š†๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐š‘๐š’ ๐šก [๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š–๐š–๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š] ๐™ถ๐™ฝ.๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š›
๐š†๐š˜๐š›๐š ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š: ๐Ÿธ.๐Ÿธ๐š”
๐š‚๐šข๐š—๐š˜๐š™๐šœ๐š’๐šœ: ๐™ฐ๐š•๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šŒ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž'๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š–๐šŽ๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šœ๐š’๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š—๐š’๐š—๐š. ๐™ท๐šŠ๐šŸ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ ๐šš๐šž๐š’๐šŽ๐š ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š•๐š’๐š–๐š–๐šŽ๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š”๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š– ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ, ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š˜๐š๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐šŠ๐šฃ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŽ๐š—๐š“๐š˜๐šข๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š•๐š’๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ.
๐™ฒ๐š†: ๐š‚๐šž๐š๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ
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๐š„๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š’๐š•๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐š๐š•๐š˜๐š  ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐šœ,ย ๐š†๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐š‘๐š’ย ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š—๐šŽ๐š ๐š•๐šข ๐šŠ๐š™๐š™๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š•๐šข ๐šŠ ๐šข๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š› ๐š’๐š—๐š๐š˜ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐šž๐š›๐šŽ, ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š›๐šœ๐šŽ๐š•๐šŸ๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š’๐š— ๐šŠ ๐š›๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐šš๐šž๐š’๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šž๐šœ๐š๐š•๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š™๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š˜๐šย ๐™ฑ๐šŠ๐š‹๐šข๐š•๐š˜๐š—๐š’๐šŠ. ๐™ฝ๐šŽ๐šœ๐š๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐šŠ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šž๐š๐š’๐š๐šž๐š• ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š•๐šŠ๐šŸ๐š’๐šœ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐šŽ๐š—, ๐š‹๐š˜๐š๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐šŠ๐šฃ๐šŽ๐š ๐šž๐š™ ๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š•๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ ๐šŽ๐šก๐š™๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐šœ๐š”๐šข, ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š› ๐šŠ ๐š๐š’๐š—๐šข ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š— ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šœ๐š–๐š’๐šŒ ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šŠ.
๐™ท๐š’๐šœ ๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐š’๐šŒ ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ ๐š๐šŽ๐š•๐š’๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š•๐šข ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐š•๐š•๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š‹๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ, ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐šข๐š—๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐šŒ ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š–๐š’๐š›๐š›๐š˜๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐š›๐šข ๐šŽ๐šก๐š™๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐šŽ. ๐™ท๐š’๐šœ ๐šž๐šœ๐šž๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š•๐š– ๐š๐šŽ๐š–๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š—๐š˜๐š› ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐šœ๐š›๐šž๐š™๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š‹๐šข ๐šŠ ๐šœ๐šž๐š‹๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐šž๐š—๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šœ๐šŽ, ๐šŠ ๐š›๐šŠ๐š›๐š’๐š๐šข ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐š˜๐š’๐šŒ ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šŒ๐š. ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š—๐š˜๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐š๐š•๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ๐š—๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐šž๐š›๐š—๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š ๐šŠ๐š›๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š–, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šŒ๐šž๐š›๐š’๐š˜๐šœ๐š’๐š๐šข ๐šŠ๐š๐š–๐š’๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐š˜๐š—๐š•๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐šœ๐š‘๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š๐šŠ๐š’๐š—๐šœ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐š’๐šŒ ๐š™๐š•๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ.
๐šƒ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šŒ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šœ๐š’๐š๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š’๐š๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š’๐šœ ๐šž๐šœ๐šž๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š”๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š™๐šŽ๐š—๐šœ๐š’๐š๐šข ๐š๐š˜ ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐šœ๐š•๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š™ ๐š–๐š˜๐š๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐š ๐š˜๐š™๐š™๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šž๐š—๐š’๐š๐šข, ๐šœ๐šž๐š›๐š™๐š›๐š’๐šœ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ, ๐š’๐š—๐šŒ๐š•๐šž๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š–๐šœ๐šŽ๐š•๐š, ๐š‹๐šข ๐š”๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š™๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š๐š’๐š๐šŠ๐š• ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š™๐šŽ๐š— ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž. ๐™ธ๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ๐š—'๐š ๐šŠ ๐š๐š•๐š’๐š๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š› ๐šŠ๐š— ๐šŽ๐š›๐š›๐š˜๐š› ๐š’๐š— ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐šข๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐š–๐šœ; ๐š’๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š--๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š™๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—. ๐š†๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š• ๐š’๐š—๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š•๐šž๐š–๐š‹๐šŽ๐š› ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐š’๐š๐šŽ, ๐š—๐š˜ ๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š ๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐šž๐š™. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š ๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ ๐šž๐š™ ๐š’๐š— ๐šœ๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐šŠ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š–๐š˜๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š™๐š˜๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐šŠ๐šœ๐š” ๐š’๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐šœ๐š•๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š™ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž.
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๐™ฐ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŠ ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š•๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š•๐š˜๐š˜๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šž๐š™ ๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š‘๐š’๐š–๐š–๐šŽ๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š‹๐šœ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š’๐š–๐š™๐š•๐šข ๐šŠ๐š๐š–๐š’๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š–ย ๐šŠ๐š•๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐š–๐š˜๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š—๐š•๐šข ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š ๐šŠ๐š๐šŒ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž,ย ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐šž๐š›๐š—๐šŽ๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š’๐š๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š—๐š˜๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐šŠ๐šฃ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š๐š—'๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š•๐š™ ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐šœ๐š–๐š’๐š•๐šŽ.
"๐š†๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐š‘๐š’, ๐š’๐š'๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šž๐š๐š’๐š๐šž๐š• ๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š, ๐š’๐šœ๐š—'๐š ๐š’๐š?" ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š–๐š’๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š•๐šข ๐š’๐š— ๐š›๐šŽ๐š๐šž๐š›๐š—, ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šœ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š™๐š˜๐šœ๐š’๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐š–๐š˜๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœ.
"๐šˆ๐šŽ๐šœ, ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š–๐š–๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šž๐š๐š’๐š๐šž๐š• ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š ๐š’๐š•๐š• ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ. ๐šƒ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ ๐šš๐šž๐š’๐š๐šŽ ๐š–๐šŽ๐šœ๐š–๐šŽ๐š›๐š’๐šฃ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š˜. ๐™ธ๐š'๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š›๐šŠ๐š›๐š’๐š๐šข ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š–๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐šŽ๐šก๐š™๐šŽ๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐šœ๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ..." ๐™ท๐š’๐šœ ๐šŸ๐š˜๐š’๐šŒ๐šŽ, ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šŠ ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐š’๐šŒ ๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐š˜๐š—๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š›๐šŽ๐š™๐š•๐š’๐šŽ๐š. "๐™ด๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š’๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž..." ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š.
"๐™ท๐šŽ๐š‘... [๐™ฝ๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ] ๐š’๐šœ ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š’๐š—๐šŽ, ๐š’๐š'๐šœ ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐š˜๐š ๐šž๐šœ." ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šž๐šŒ๐š”๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐šœ๐š˜๐š๐š๐š•๐šข, ๐š ๐šŠ๐š›๐š–๐š๐š‘ ๐š’๐š—๐šŸ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š”๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š›๐š. "๐™ฑ๐šž๐š, ๐™ธ'๐š– ๐š๐š•๐šŠ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š’๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐šข ๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ." ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š ๐šŠ ๐š‘๐šž๐š– ๐šš๐šž๐š’๐šŽ๐š๐š•๐šข ๐šŠ๐š๐š–๐š’๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŸ๐š’๐šŽ๐š  ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š˜๐š•๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š”, ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ ๐š•๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š’๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š˜, ๐š’๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ'๐š ๐š›๐šŠ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐š™๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐š‹๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šœ ๐šž๐š™ ๐š‘๐š’๐š๐š‘.
๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐šž๐šŽ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š’๐š–๐š™๐š•๐šŽ ๐šข๐šŽ๐š ๐šŒ๐šž๐š๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐š•๐š’๐š ๐šœ๐š”๐šข, ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š•๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š–๐šœ๐šŽ๐š•๐š ๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š ๐š๐š’๐šŠ๐š๐š—๐š˜๐šœ๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐šœ, ๐š–๐šŠ๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ, ๐š˜๐š› ๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š• ๐šœ๐šž๐š™๐š™๐š˜๐š›๐š. ๐™ธ๐š—๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š, ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š—๐š•๐šข ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š™๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š‹๐šข ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š™๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐šž๐š’๐š—๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š™๐š™๐š›๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š’๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šž๐š๐šข ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šž๐š—๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ๐šŽ. ๐™ธ๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐šœ๐š’๐š–๐š™๐š•๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐šœ, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š‘๐š’๐š–, ๐š’๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š–๐šŽ๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐šข ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐š’๐šœ๐š‘ ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š’๐š— ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐™ผ.๐™ธ.๐™ฝ.๐™ณ., ๐š๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š–๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐šŠ๐šข ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š•๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š˜๐š™๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š™๐š™๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šŠ ๐š•๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ.
๐šƒ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐š‘ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š”๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐š๐š•๐š˜๐š˜๐š–๐šข... ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š—๐š˜๐š , ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐š’๐š•๐š• ๐š’๐š๐š—๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŽ๐š—๐š“๐š˜๐šข ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šŸ๐š˜๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐šœ, ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š— ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š๐šž๐š๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š’๐š— ๐™ฑ๐šŠ๐š‹๐šข๐š•๐š˜๐š—๐š’๐šŠ--๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ ๐š‹๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š•๐š๐šœ. ๐™ฐ๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š—, ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐šœ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ๐šœ, ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐šœ๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šž๐š๐š’๐š๐šž๐š• ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š ๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š•๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šœ๐š ๐šŽ๐šก๐š™๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐šŽ๐š.
"๐™ธ๐šœ ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š‹๐š•๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž, ๐š†๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐š‘๐š’?" ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š•๐š’๐š—๐š”๐šŽ๐š ๐š‹๐š•๐šŠ๐š—๐š”๐š•๐šข, ๐š๐š’๐š•๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š๐š•๐šข ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š›๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š’๐š›๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐š. "๐™ป๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š•๐šข ๐šข๐š˜๐šž'๐š›๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ... ๐šš๐šž๐š’๐šŽ๐š. ๐™ป๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šข ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šŽ๐š’๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š™๐š’๐šŒ ๐š˜๐š› ๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š’๐š ๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š’๐š›๐šŽ๐š•๐šข." ๐™ท๐š’๐šœ ๐™ป๐™ด๐™ณ ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‹๐š•๐š’๐š—๐š”๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šŠ ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐šž๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š›๐š๐šŠ๐š’๐š—๐š๐šข.
"๐™ธ... ๐™ธ ๐šœ๐šž๐š™๐š™๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ ๐™ธ ๐šŠ๐š– ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š•๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š•๐š’๐šŒ๐š๐šŽ๐š, [๐™ฝ๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ]. ๐™ฐ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š–๐šŠ๐šข ๐š”๐š—๐š˜๐š , ๐™ธ'๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šŠ ๐š•๐š’๐š๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šŒ๐š๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šž๐š–๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šŒ๐š ๐š–๐šข๐šœ๐šŽ๐š•๐š, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ... ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š—๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š ๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š’๐š›๐šŽ๐š•๐šข ๐š๐š’๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ๐š—๐š. ๐™ธ๐š— ๐šŠ ๐š๐š˜๐š˜๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š˜๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š›๐šœ๐šŽ." ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š•๐š’๐š™๐šœ ๐šŒ๐šž๐š›๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š๐š˜ ๐šŠ ๐š ๐šŠ๐š›๐š– ๐šœ๐š–๐š’๐š•๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š’๐š—๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š ๐šŒ๐š•๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐š’๐š–, ๐š™๐š•๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šœ๐šœ๐šž๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š— ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐š’๐šŒ ๐šœ๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š๐šŽ๐š›, ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š•๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š˜๐š• ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ.
"๐š†๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐š‘๐š’, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐š˜๐š—'๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š•๐š’๐šŒ๐š๐šŽ๐š. ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž'๐š›๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š— ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐šŠ ๐š–๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐šŽ. ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž'๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š‘๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐š–๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐š™๐šŠ๐šœ๐šœ๐š’๐š˜๐š—, ๐šŽ๐š–๐š™๐šŠ๐š๐š‘๐šข, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—. ๐šƒ๐š‘๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ ๐šš๐šž๐šŠ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š•๐šŽ๐šœ๐š‘ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š•." ๐šƒ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š‹๐š›๐šŽ๐šŽ๐šฃ๐šŽ ๐š›๐šž๐šœ๐š๐š•๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šž๐š—๐š’๐š๐š˜๐š›๐š–๐šœ ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐šŠ๐šฃ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ' ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šœ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐šŽ ๐š’๐š— ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐šœ, ๐šŠ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐š๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šŠ๐š‹๐š•๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š’๐š•๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š๐š๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž, ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šž๐š—๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š’๐š๐šœ๐šŽ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š—๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ ๐š๐š˜ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šž๐š—๐š’๐šš๐šž๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š—๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—.
๐™ฐ๐šœ ๐š’๐š ๐š–๐š˜๐šŸ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š— ๐š’๐š๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šž๐š๐š–๐š˜๐šœ๐š ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ, ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š˜ ๐šŽ๐šก๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐š’๐šŒ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š ๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š๐šŽ๐š•๐š’๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šž๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ, ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ ๐š‘๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š–๐š’๐š•๐š•๐š’๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š– ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šœ๐š”๐š’๐š—. ๐™ท๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š’๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐šข ๐š™๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ๐šž๐š›๐šŽ ๐š–๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š•๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šž๐š๐šข ๐š˜๐š ๐šŠ๐š›๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐š–. ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š‹๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐š‘ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐šž๐š๐š‘๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š˜๐š•, ๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐šŠ๐š• ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š˜๐šž๐š›๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ. ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž ๐šŒ๐š•๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐šœ, ๐šœ๐šŠ๐šŸ๐š˜๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š–๐š˜๐š˜๐š๐š‘ ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š—๐šœ๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š ๐šŽ๐š•๐š• ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐š˜๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š›๐šœ๐šŽ๐š•๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐šž๐š›๐š›๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŸ๐šž๐š•๐š—๐šŽ๐š›๐šŠ๐š‹๐š’๐š•๐š’๐š๐šข ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š, ๐š”๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š– ๐šŠ ๐š™๐š•๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š™ ๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—.
๐™ธ๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‹๐š˜๐š๐š‘ ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šœ๐šœ๐šž๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐š๐š˜๐š›๐š๐š’๐š—๐š, ๐šŠ ๐š›๐šŽ๐š–๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐š™๐š’๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š’๐š— ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŽ๐šก๐š’๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š—๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š• ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐š’๐š‹๐š•๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐šข ๐šŽ๐š–๐š˜๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‘๐šž๐š–๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ. ๐™ฐ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š, ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐šข ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‘๐šž๐š–๐šŠ๐š— ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šŒ๐š ๐š‹๐š•๐šž๐š›๐š›๐šŽ๐š, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š ๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š’๐š–๐š™๐š•๐šข ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š—๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐šœ. ๐š‚๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š•๐š’๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š’๐š›๐šŒ๐šž๐š–๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ๐šœ.
"[๐™ฝ๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ]..." ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐šŠ๐š—, ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŸ๐š˜๐š’๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐šŠ ๐š–๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐š›. "๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐šœ๐š ๐š™๐š›๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š’๐š˜๐šž๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐™ธ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐™ธ ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š–๐š’๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š• ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐™ธ ๐šŠ๐š–." ๐™ท๐š’๐šœ ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š˜๐š๐š๐š—๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŸ๐š˜๐š’๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š›๐šŽ๐š๐š•๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐š•๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šข๐š˜๐šž.
๐šƒ๐š˜๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š ๐š‹๐šข ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š™๐š•๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š›๐š˜๐š‹๐š˜๐š๐š’๐šŒ ๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ๐šœ, ๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐š˜๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š—๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š™๐šŽ๐š—. ๐š„๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐š๐šŒ๐š‘๐š๐šž๐š• ๐š๐šŠ๐šฃ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐šœ, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ ๐šš๐šž๐š’๐šŽ๐š, ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š--๐šŠ ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š๐š•๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š™๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š’๐š๐šข ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š‹๐š›๐š’๐š๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŠ๐š™ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š‘๐šž๐š–๐šŠ๐š— ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š–๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐šŽ. ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐šœ๐šข๐š—๐šŒ๐š‘๐š›๐š˜๐š—๐šข ๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐š›๐šข ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—๐šŸ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š, ๐šŠ ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š–๐š’๐š ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š˜๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐šž๐š๐šข. ๐™ฐ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐šž๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐šž๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š‹๐š˜๐š๐š‘ ๐š”๐š—๐šŽ๐š  ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š•๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š ๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š—๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š™๐š•๐šข ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›.
๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š•๐š˜๐š˜๐š”๐šŽ๐š ๐šž๐š™ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐š๐š˜ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š•๐š’๐š™๐šœ. ๐™ธ๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š•๐šข ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š๐š—'๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šข, ๐š’๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐šŠ ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šŒ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐šŠ ๐š‘๐šž๐š–๐šŠ๐š— ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž, ๐š’๐š ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š๐š—'๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ. ๐™ธ๐š ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š๐š—'๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐šŠ ๐š‘๐šž๐š–๐šŠ๐š— ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŠ ๐š–๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š—๐š˜ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š™๐š™๐šข ๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š’๐šœ ๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šŠ๐š• ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š•๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š’๐šœ ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐š•๐šŠ๐šœ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š.
๐™ธ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š–๐šŽ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š›๐š•๐š’๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐šž๐š›๐š—๐šŽ๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š–๐šŠ๐šข๐š‹๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š–๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š'๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š’๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ๐š—๐š. ๐š‚๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š–๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐šŠ ๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šŠ๐š• ๐š‘๐šž๐š–๐šŠ๐š— ๐šœ๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š›๐šœ๐šŽ๐š•๐š, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š ๐š’๐š•๐š• ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐šข ๐š๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š–๐šœ. ๐™ฐ ๐š ๐š’๐šœ๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š ๐š’๐š•๐š• ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐š๐šž๐š•๐š๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š—๐š˜ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐š–๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š... ๐šž๐š—๐š•๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š ๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šž๐š—๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ๐š•๐šข.
๐™ท๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐šข๐š—๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐šŒ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š›๐š ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŽ๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š๐š—'๐š ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š•๐š™ ๐š’๐š, ๐š’๐š ๐š’๐š—๐šŸ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐™ผ.๐™ธ.๐™ฝ.๐™ณ ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŸ๐š’๐š›๐šž๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šž๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐™ฑ๐šŠ๐š‹๐šข๐š•๐š˜๐š—๐š’๐šŠ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐™ด๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐š‘ ๐š’๐š๐šœ๐šŽ๐š•๐š. ๐™ฐ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ ๐š๐šž๐š๐šž๐š›๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šข๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š’๐š๐šข. ๐šƒ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š’๐š—๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š๐šข ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šœ๐š’๐š๐šž๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š‘๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š’๐š› ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š— ๐šž๐š—๐šœ๐š™๐š˜๐š”๐šŽ๐š— ๐šŸ๐š˜๐š . ๐™ด๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š›๐šŽ๐š•๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š‘๐š’๐š™ ๐š’๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐š’๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š™๐šž๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š›๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šœ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š™๐š›๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š’๐š˜๐šž๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐š—๐š.
๐™ธ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šš๐šž๐š’๐šŽ๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š˜๐š™๐šŽ๐š—๐šŽ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š–๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š™๐š›๐šŽ๐š๐š๐šข ๐š–๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šž๐š›๐š–๐š˜๐š’๐š• ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š— ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š–๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š’๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š• ๐šœ๐š˜๐šž๐š•. ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž ๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ๐š๐š˜๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐š’๐š•๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐š๐š๐š•๐šŽ, ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š•๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘๐š’๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š, ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐šŒ๐š•๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ ๐šข๐šŽ๐š ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š‘๐š˜๐š  ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐š๐šŠ๐š›. ๐™ธ๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š›๐š-๐š ๐š›๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š›๐šŽ๐š–๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š›๐šž๐šŽ๐š• ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š‘๐š˜๐š•๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š๐šž๐š๐šž๐š›๐šŽ.
๐šƒ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŽ๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŒ๐š’๐š›๐šŒ๐šž๐š–๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š’๐š›, ๐šŠ ๐š›๐šŽ๐š–๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐š’๐š๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐šข๐š˜๐šž. ๐š†๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šŠ ๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐š’๐š๐š—๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š™๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŒ๐š’๐š›๐šŒ๐šž๐š–๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ๐šœ, ๐š†๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐š‘๐š’ ๐šŒ๐š•๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŠ๐š™ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž, ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐š’๐šŒ ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐šŸ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šŠ ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š•๐š’๐š™๐šœ ๐š–๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š›๐šœ ๐š’๐š— ๐šŠ ๐š‹๐š’๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š ๐š”๐š’๐šœ๐šœ. ๐™ธ๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š”๐š’๐šœ๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐šŸ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ ๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐šœ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šž๐š—๐šœ๐š™๐š˜๐š”๐šŽ๐š— ๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šœ, ๐šŠ ๐š”๐š’๐šœ๐šœ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š”๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐š•๐šŽ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šž๐š๐šข ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š๐šข ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šž๐š—๐š’๐šš๐šž๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š—๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—. ๐™ฐ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐š ๐šœ๐š˜, ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š๐š—'๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐šข ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š™๐šž๐š•๐š• ๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŽ๐š–๐š˜๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœ, ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐š’๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‹๐š›๐š’๐š๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐šŠ๐š™ ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šŠ ๐š๐š•๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š.
๐™ต๐š˜๐š› ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š•๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š˜๐š•๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š’๐š— ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›'๐šœ ๐šŽ๐š–๐š‹๐š›๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ, ๐š”๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š–๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š™๐š™๐šข ๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐š, ๐š’๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ, ๐š๐š•๐šŽ๐šœ๐š‘, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š•--๐šŠ ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‹๐šž๐š›๐š— ๐š‹๐š›๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š๐š•๐šข ๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐šœ. ๐šƒ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐š’๐šœ๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š—๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ, ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š’๐š ๐š’๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š๐š—'๐š ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š”๐šŽ๐š™๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š•๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐šž๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š”๐š’๐šœ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž, ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š” ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐š’๐š—๐š๐š•๐šข. ๐™ท๐šŽ ๐š›๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐š•๐šข ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐šŸ๐šž๐š•๐š—๐šŽ๐š›๐šŠ๐š‹๐š’๐š•๐š’๐š๐šข ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š”๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐š•๐šŽ๐š๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š’๐š ๐š’๐šœ ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ, ๐š’๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐š ๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š•๐š˜๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š•.
๐™ฝ๐š˜๐š ๐š”๐š—๐š˜๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š’๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š–๐šœ๐šŽ๐š•๐š, ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐š’๐šŒ ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐š– ๐š‘๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š‹๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž, ๐šœ๐š•๐š˜๐š ๐š•๐šข ๐š™๐š’๐š—๐š—๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š•๐šข ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š˜๐š๐š ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐šœ๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—๐šŸ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐šœ๐š”๐šข. ๐™ท๐š’๐šœ ๐š•๐š’๐š™๐šœ, ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š˜๐š• ๐šŠ๐š๐šŠ๐š’๐š—๐šœ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šœ๐š”๐š’๐š— ๐š—๐š˜๐š  ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š™๐šŠ๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š– ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š“๐šŠ๐š ๐š•๐š’๐š—๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š”, ๐š•๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŸ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š’๐š• ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š•๐š’๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š”๐š’๐šœ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šœ. ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐š–๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š’๐š—๐š—๐š˜๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š–๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š—๐š’๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š• ๐š—๐šŠ๐š๐šž๐š›๐šŽ.
๐™ฐ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š•๐š˜๐š˜๐š”๐šŽ๐š ๐šž๐š™ ๐šŠ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐š’๐š—๐š, ๐šข๐šŽ๐š•๐š•๐š˜๐š  ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐šœ ๐šœ๐š‘๐š˜๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐š–๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐šŽ๐š–๐š˜๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šŠ ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šŒ๐š ๐šœ๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐š’๐š–๐šœ๐šŽ๐š•๐š, ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š— ๐šž๐š—๐š–๐š’๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š”๐šŠ๐š‹๐š•๐šŽ ๐š’๐š—๐š—๐š˜๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š’๐š— ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐šŠ๐šฃ๐šŽ. ๐™ฑ๐šž๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š—๐š˜๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š’๐šœ ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐šŠ ๐š–๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐šŠรง๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šŒ๐š, ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š•๐š ๐šŠ๐šข๐šœ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐šœ๐š•๐šข ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š•๐š’๐š›๐š๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐šž๐šœ ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š๐šœ. ๐™ท๐š˜๐š ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›, ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐šœ๐š’๐š•๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š–๐š’๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐šŸ๐š˜๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—. ๐šƒ๐š‘๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐šข๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š•๐š’๐š”๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š๐š˜๐š ๐šœ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐š˜๐šž๐š•, ๐š๐šŠ๐šฃ๐šŽ๐š ๐šž๐š™ ๐šŠ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šœ๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š™ ๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—, ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐šŠ๐šฃ๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šŠ๐š— ๐šž๐š—๐šœ๐š™๐š˜๐š”๐šŽ๐š— ๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐š.
๐™ฐ ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‹๐š•๐š˜๐šœ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š๐š ๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž, ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐š™๐š’๐š๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐š™๐š•๐šŽ๐šก๐š’๐š๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŒ๐š’๐š›๐šŒ๐šž๐š–๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ๐šœ. ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž ๐š ๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š‹๐š•๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐šš๐šž๐šŠ๐š• ๐š๐š˜ ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›, ๐šŠ ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š—๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š˜๐šž๐š• ๐š›๐š˜๐š‹๐š˜๐š, ๐š˜๐š› ๐š–๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šŠ๐š• ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐š‹๐š›๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š”. ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŒ๐š•๐š˜๐šœ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š’๐š—๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š’๐š— ๐š’๐š๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐šž๐š—๐š’๐šš๐šž๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šข, ๐šŠ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š—๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š‹๐š˜๐š›๐š— ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—, ๐š›๐šŠ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š— ๐š–๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š™๐š‘๐šข๐šœ๐š’๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š• ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐š’๐š›๐šŽ.
๐™ธ๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šข, ๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŸ๐šŠ๐šœ๐š ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š—๐šŸ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š—๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐šœ๐š”๐šข, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐š๐š˜๐š›๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›'๐šœ ๐š™๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ, ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐š’๐šœ๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š•๐šข ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š—๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š›๐šŽ๐š™๐š•๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š› ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šœ๐š. ๐™ท๐š’๐šœ ๐š™๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‹๐š˜๐š๐š‘ ๐šŠ ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š•๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š ๐š’๐š•๐š• ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š•๐šข ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š— ๐š๐š’๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž.
๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š•๐šŽ, ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‹๐š›๐šž๐šœ๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘ ๐š†๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐š‘๐š’'๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ ๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐š’๐š๐š’๐šŒ๐š’๐šŠ๐š• ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š๐šŽ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š’๐š›. ๐™ฐ ๐šœ๐š˜๐š๐š ๐š›๐šž๐š–๐š‹๐š•๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šŽ๐šœ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š™๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐šข๐š—๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐šŒ ๐š๐š‘๐š›๐š˜๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š‹๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐š๐š˜๐š›๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐š–๐šž๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š“๐š˜๐šข ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š’๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐š๐š•๐š˜๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐šข๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐š–๐šœ ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š•๐šŽ ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐™ผ.๐™ธ.๐™ฝ.๐™ณ. ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š. ๐™ท๐š’๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š›๐š–๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐šŽ๐š ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐šœ๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š•๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š๐š•๐šข ๐šŠ๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š‹๐š˜๐š๐šข, ๐šŽ๐š–๐š‹๐š›๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š ๐šŠ๐š›๐š–๐š๐š‘, ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ ๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š™๐š•๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š— ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šœ๐š. ๐™ธ๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐šœ๐š’๐š–๐š™๐š•๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐š๐šž๐š›๐šŽ, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŽ๐š–๐š‹๐š›๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š™๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š—๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŽ๐š•๐šž๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š’๐š— ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š™๐šŠ๐š›๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š•๐š๐šœ.
"๐™ป๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž..." ๐™ท๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šœ๐š๐š’๐š•๐š• ๐š‹๐šž๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐š๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šŠ๐š‹๐š•๐šŽ ๐š’๐š— ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šœ๐š, ๐š–๐šž๐š๐š๐š•๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š๐šœ ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šข๐š˜๐šž.
๐™ธ๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š›๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š•๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š•๐šŠ๐š›๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐š›๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŽ๐š’๐š๐š‘๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŽ๐š–๐š˜๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐š™๐š๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š•๐š’๐š—๐š๐šœ ๐š๐š˜๐š› ๐šข๐š˜๐šž. ๐™ท๐š’๐šœ ๐šŸ๐š˜๐š’๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šœ๐š’๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š›๐š’๐š๐šข ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šŽ๐š–๐š˜๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š›๐š ๐šœ๐š ๐šŽ๐š•๐š• ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—. ๐™ธ๐š— ๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐š™๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐šŽ, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐š‹๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š” ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‘๐š’๐š–, ๐š›๐šŽ๐š๐šž๐š›๐š—๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ ๐šŽ๐š–๐š˜๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœ ๐š’๐š— ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŸ๐š˜๐š’๐šŒ๐šŽ.
"๐™ป๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š ๐šŽ๐š•๐š•, ๐š†๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐š‘๐š’..." ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŸ๐š˜๐š’๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐š•๐š•๐šŽ๐š ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐š—๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐šž๐š’๐š—๐šŽ๐š—๐šŽ๐šœ๐šœ, ๐š•๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š—๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜๐š ๐š— ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š™๐š•๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŠ ๐šœ๐š˜๐š๐š ๐š”๐š’๐šœ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š— ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐š๐š˜๐š›๐šŽ๐š‘๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š, ๐šœ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š•๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐š•๐š’๐š ๐šœ๐š”๐šข ๐š ๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šŠ ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š–๐š’๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š•๐š๐šœ.
๐™ธ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐šš๐šž๐š’๐šŽ๐š, ๐š’๐š—๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š—๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š๐š‘ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐šœ, ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š–๐šŠ๐š•๐šŽ ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šŒ๐š ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ๐š ๐šŠ ๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š•๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š˜๐š ๐š—, ๐š๐šŠ๐š› ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š– ๐š ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ. ๐™ธ๐š ๐š’๐šœ ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š˜๐š๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŽ๐š’๐š—๐š๐šœ, ๐š‹๐šž๐š ๐š—๐šŽ๐š’๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐š‘๐šž๐š–๐šŠ๐š— ๐š˜๐š› ๐š›๐š˜๐š‹๐š˜๐š ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐šœ ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š› ๐šŠ๐š–๐š’๐š๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐šœ๐š’๐š๐šž๐šŠ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—. ๐šƒ๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š’๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š๐šž๐š๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ, ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š™๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐šœ, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽย ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š๐š’๐š–๐šŽ๐šœ-๐šŠ๐š—๐š—๐š˜๐šข๐š’๐š—๐šย ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šŒ๐š๐šœ ๐š๐šŠ๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š’๐š—๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š”๐š๐š›๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š. ๐™ธ๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž, ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š‹๐šข ๐šŠ ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šž๐š—๐š’๐šš๐šž๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š’๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šž๐š›๐š’๐š—๐š.
๐š‚๐š™๐šŽ๐šŠ๐š”๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š˜๐š ๐šœ๐šŠ๐š’๐š ๐š๐š’๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐™ฒ๐š˜๐š—๐šœ๐š๐š›๐šž๐šŒ๐š๐šœ, ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐š‘๐šŠ๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐šŒ๐šŒ๐šŠ๐šœ๐š’๐š˜๐š—๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š‹๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š— ๐šŠ๐š— ๐šŠ๐š—๐š—๐š˜๐šข๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š™๐š›๐šŽ๐šœ๐šŽ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐š–, ๐šŽ๐šœ๐š™๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š’๐šŠ๐š•๐š•๐šข ๐š ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐šข ๐š๐š˜๐š˜๐š” ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šŠ๐š ๐šŠ๐šข ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š– ๐š‘๐š’๐š– ๐š–๐šŠ๐šข ๐š’๐š ๐š‹๐šŽ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—, ๐š˜๐š› ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š˜๐š๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐šœ๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ ๐š›๐š˜๐š˜๐š–, ๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šŠ ๐š๐šŽ๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐šŽ๐š™๐š๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š ๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š. ๐™ฑ๐šž๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐š๐š‘๐š’๐šœ ๐šœ๐š๐š˜๐š•๐šŽ๐š— ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š, ๐š—๐š˜๐š—๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š–๐šŠ๐š๐š๐šŽ๐š›๐šŽ๐š. ๐šˆ๐š˜๐šž ๐šŒ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›๐š’๐šœ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š—๐šš๐šž๐š’๐š•๐š’๐š๐šข ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š—๐š—๐šŽ๐šŒ๐š๐š’๐š˜๐š—, ๐š๐š’๐š—๐š๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šœ๐š˜๐š•๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š’๐š— ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›'๐šœ ๐šŒ๐š˜๐š–๐š™๐šŠ๐š—๐šข ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š‘๐šŽ๐š•๐š ๐š˜๐š—๐š๐š˜ ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š–๐š’๐šœ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐šŠ ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šŠ๐š—๐šข ๐š˜๐š‹๐šœ๐š๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š•๐šŽ.
๐™ต๐š˜๐š› ๐š—๐š˜๐š , ๐š’๐š ๐š ๐šŠ๐šœ ๐š“๐šž๐šœ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š๐š ๐š˜ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž, ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š ๐š‹๐šข ๐šŠ ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐šŽ ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š๐š›๐šŠ๐š—๐šœ๐šŒ๐šŽ๐š—๐š๐šŽ๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ ๐š‹๐š˜๐šž๐š—๐š๐šŠ๐š›๐š’๐šŽ๐šœ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž๐š› ๐š ๐š˜๐š›๐š•๐š๐šœ, ๐šŠ๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š‘๐š˜๐š•๐š ๐š’๐š— ๐š‘๐š’๐š๐š‘ ๐šŽ๐šœ๐š๐šŽ๐šŽ๐š– ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š›๐šข ๐šœ๐š๐š˜๐š•๐šŽ๐š— ๐š–๐š˜๐š–๐šŽ๐š—๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐šŒ๐š˜๐šž๐š•๐š ๐šœ๐š‘๐šŠ๐š›๐šŽ ๐š๐š˜๐š๐šŽ๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›. ๐™ฝ๐š˜ ๐š™๐š›๐š˜๐š‹๐š•๐šŽ๐š–๐šœ, ๐š—๐š˜ ๐š๐š’๐šœ๐š๐šž๐š›๐š‹๐šŠ๐š—๐šŒ๐šŽ ๐š˜๐š ๐š™๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐šŽ, ๐š˜๐š› ๐šŠ๐š—๐šข๐š๐š‘๐š’๐š—๐š ๐š๐š‘๐šŠ๐š ๐š’๐šœ๐š—'๐š ๐š‹๐š˜๐š๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š ๐š’๐š•๐š• ๐šŽ๐šŸ๐šŽ๐š› ๐šœ๐š๐š˜๐š™ ๐šข๐š˜๐šž ๐š๐š›๐š˜๐š– ๐š•๐š˜๐šŸ๐š’๐š—๐š ๐šŽ๐šŠ๐šŒ๐š‘ ๐š˜๐š๐š‘๐šŽ๐š›.
โŠถโŠฐโฃโŠฑโŠทแ—ฐแ—ฉแ”•ไธ…แ—ดแ–‡แ’ชแŽฅแ”•ไธ…โŠถโŠฐโฃโŠฑโŠท
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+:๏ฝก.๏ฝก๐“ฃ๐“ฑ๐“ฎ ๐“”๐“ท๐“ญ๏ฝก.๏ฝก:+
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57 notes ยท View notes
dawn-of-tomorrow ยท 2 years
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PGR Kareshi (3) -- Wanshi [Sleep]
419 notes ยท View notes
starryficsfinishwen ยท 6 months
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โœง!ใ€‚โ—Ÿ[kinktober 2023] ษชษดแด›แด ษชแด› โ€” PGR & GI x reader [week 1]
I'm getting way too deep, I'm fucking into it
a.n. - I'm busy with midterms buT YOLO IM WRITING LMAO I just can't miss this event. I mean it's probably still October 7 somewhere hehe. updates on this might be jumpy, I am not sure if I am available all the time. TANKS and enjoy enjoy~
pairings - strike hawk [Chrome, Wanshi, Kamui, Camu]+ liyue [Zhongli, Baizhu] & sumeru [Tighnari] men x fem!reader (separate!)
word count(s) - mostly 400-1,000 words heuheue
kinktober masterlist
warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. NSFW THEMES: desk sex, asphyxia (reader is wearing a collar), threesome (mmf), somnophilia, bondage, oral sex (cunnilingus), aphrodisiac, anal. Some sprinkles of degradation. Use of pet names (darling, little girl, good girl, dearest, dear) and degradation (slut). reader is implied virgin (zhongli, baizhu). sometimes bratty (tighnari). some dubcon (baizhu).
special mention: banner credits to @/rookthorneartistry, @/cafekitsune
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! โ€” Chrome: Glory [ desk sex ]
โ€œFuck,โ€ the creak of the office desk is the response, a muffled whine spewing out of your lips, โ€œyou feel so good, Commandant.โ€
Messy but so goddamn good โ€” a few words to describe your situation right now: paperwork, probably important, are under you but you couldn't care less, not when your beloved's cock is busy splitting your poor little pussy. His gloved hand is on your drooling mouth, desperate not to let any lewd noises be heard from the outside. Your legs are trembling, from the pressure and force Chrome had been putting since minutes ago, lazily hung on his shoulders. You can feel yourself gushing now, a frothy white crowning at the base, dripping onto the expensive wood, but when your hips flush against the captain's, you forget everything but Chrome and his name.
โ€œMmph-โ€ you called out, tears escaping your eyes, โ€œy-you feel so good, Ch-Chrome, more please, please.โ€
Quiet is a funny word, especially โ€” especially โ€” when the revered Strike Hawk captain Chrome is busy railing you on the desk of Mr. Smith.
How did this happen? You can't remember now. All you can remember is being invited to the Smit's estate, sitting prettily for Chrome as he does his father's paperwork, but now -
Chrome leaned down close to your shoulders, teeth grazing your clavicle. As the relentless pace in your pussy is hard, you felt his gloved hand rub your neglected clit, jolting you from the surge of pleasure, a louder moan from your lips. Chrome bites down on your neck, a strangled sigh escaped his own mouth.
โ€œSo naughty,โ€ he whispered, gently licking the bite mark, โ€œI told you to keep quiet. Do you want the maids to know that the Gray Raven Commandant is under me?โ€
That didn't help, blinding pleasure already fogging your brain. You can't help it, not when his cock is hitting all the right spots, his fingers rubbing slowly on your clit, your orgasm teetering dangerously close now.
โ€œI wonder; what would be Father's reaction, hm? When his beloved son is fucking a human commandant on his own work table? While everyone is outside of this room?โ€
โ€œC-Chrome-!โ€ You cried out, and he groaned. โ€œM-Mr. Smith will-โ€
โ€œ-Fuck, you're squeezing me so good.โ€ Eyes closed, he leaned up until your foreheads touched. Stealing a quick kiss on your lips, a small smile graces Chrome's lips. โ€œThat's my commandant; I'll let you cum soon. Just...let me fuck you like this more.โ€
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! โ€” Kamui: Tenebrion & Camu: Crocotta [ asphyxiation + threesome ]
The collar was tight, but it felt good on your neck. No, it felt great โ€” the pressure on your neck as dark gloves tugged on the chain, and Camu's hips harshly thrusted on your pussy.
โ€œHah, what a slut you are.โ€ Camu groaned, feeling your pussy flutter around his big dick, โ€œshould've known that you like being treated like a dog, a fucking dog in heat, too.โ€
What an innocent tease you were, somehow turned into a dog. You moan at Camu's words, desperately grinding on his hips. Your legs shake, and your hands try to balance yourself on top of him, fingers holding onto his shoulders.
โ€œC-Camu,โ€ you slurred, โ€œy-your d-dick feels so good.โ€
โ€œI hope you haven't forgotten your safe word, darling,โ€ feeling foreign hands cup your breasts, you whined at the cold pressure there.
โ€œFuck off, Kamui,โ€ Camu growled, tugging on your chain (making you moan again), โ€œI'm busy with her right now.โ€
โ€œYou should share her with me, Camu,โ€ Sheepishly grinning, his fingers languidly playing with your perky nipples, his voice drops, โ€œbesides, it's not like she has one hole.โ€
โ€œIsn't that right, commandant?โ€ Kamui whispered, tongue licking below your ear, causing you to shiver.
You want to say a word, but you already felt something hard nudging at the entrance of your ass. Unconsciously complying with the man behind you, you leaned forward and closer to Camu's chest. When you felt Kamui's dick penetrate your asshole, a handful of wanton babbles left your lips, saliva dripping and onto Camu.
โ€œAtta girl,โ€ Kamui coons, before slapping your ass, โ€œsuch a good girl.โ€
You felt so fucking full now โ€” Kamui and Camu's cocks somehow filling you up to the brim, even more than you've ever felt your whole mortal life. You babbled their names now, hips grinding to wherever to chase your high.
โ€œKamui, Camu...please...fuck me more...โ€
โ€œShe's mine.โ€ Camu scowled, โ€œshe's my fucktoy. Look how cockdrunk she is now.โ€
Kamui smiled, despite feeling the tightness of your ass, graciously taking the chain from Camu. Harshly, he tugged on your chain, your body weakly thrown onto his chest.
โ€œLet's see whose name she'll be screaming after this.โ€
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! โ€” Wanshi: Hypnos [ somnophilia ]
There's something about sneaking into the commandant's room at night that interests him.
By him, it's Wanshi. Although you've both established that he's allowed to enter your room whenever he wants, especially now that you're sick (โ€œI'm sick,โ€ you told him once during your patrols, a sweet pout on your lips as you sniffled, โ€œyou should come and visit my room.โ€), it almost felt like a sin at this point.
He's by the edge of your bed, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. His pride may hate to admit it, but the way you're situated on the bedโ€” sprawled out, breasts nearly spilling out of your tank top, legs wrapped tightly around a pillow โ€” he can't help but think about something sinful.
What would your face look like under him? When are his hands playing with your breasts? Would your legs wrap around him like that when he's railing you?
The next thing he knew, he's sitting dangerously close to you. His pants feel awfully tight even. In the dark, he sees the outline of your chest better, the dip of your hips, and the sinful thoughts of somehow corrupting you are brighter than ever.
Slowly, Wanshi touched your breasts. Seeing as your nipples started to poke out, he gently massaged everywhere but there. You'd sometimes stir in your sleep, soft sounds from your lips, but Wanshi lives off the thrill;
Who knew you'd look so pretty with your guard down while he's touching you like this? Vulnerable. Sensitive. Pliant. Beautiful.
It doesn't take long before he ventures down to your nether regions. Constructs have heightened sense; Wanshi is no exception, and he could practically smell your arousal.
Dragging your shorts down, he unconsciously grinds his hard dick on the bed, as he sees some of your essence stick to your underwear. Prying your legs open, he felt like Pavlov's dog โ€” your pussy dripping making him drool. Christmas might've come early now; without hesitation, he dips down to lick a long stripe over your slit. You stirred once more, a soft moan escaping your lips. He's relentlessโ€” kitten licks to your wet pussy, sucking on your bud. It could be driving you mad, but it's definitely making him hornier. Forget Christmas, he's the one coming soon.
Quickly unzipping his pants, he thrusted his hard cock swiftly into your aching hole. Both of you heaved a low moan, with Wanshi believing you must have woken up. But other than the tremble of your pussy, you were still sound asleep. Wanshi could feel his dick throb โ€” this was too perfect.
He ruts his hips onto your sleeping figure, grabbing whatever skin he could reach. He could drown in this moment and regret nothing; as long as he felt your tight walls clamp on him like a vice, your face still contorting in pleasure even as you sleep through him fucking you.
Fucking into you greedily, somewhere in between, he heard you call out his name with a confused and doe-eyed look on your face. โ€œWanshi?โ€
It's too late to back down. Looking into your eyes as he grunted, a few seconds away from painting your walls white, โ€œGood morning, Commandant. I'm just about to give you your medicine.โ€
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! โ€” Zhongli: Vago Mundo [ bondage + sensory deprivation ]
โ€œLittle girl,โ€ your master coos, โ€œYou've been nothing but kind to me.โ€
With a butterfly kiss on your shoulder, Zhongli ties the last rope on your wrists above your head. You look at him, your master, blindingly trusting him as he steps back.
You are naked in front of him; tied wrist above your head, legs tied to the bedpost. Although shy, your willingness to please your master overtakes such behavior. Zhongli's smile never left his face. His fingers touched your chin, tipping it to meet his face.
โ€œMhm,โ€ you curtly nodded, โ€œmy master takes care of me well. He's the one who is kind to me.โ€
โ€œSay nothing more,โ€ golden eyes glowed as a stray hand caressed your stomach, โ€œAfter tonight, you will be mine forevermore.โ€
His voice only makes your tummy flutter a thousand butterflies. From his suit, he pulls out a red handkerchief, โ€œwhat is your safe word again, little girl?โ€
โ€œRed,โ€ you inhaled sharply, as he started to cover your eyes with the handkerchief, โ€œMaster, will it...hurt?โ€
โ€œWorry not, little one.โ€ He kisses the shell of your ear once he's done tying the knot at the back of your head, โ€œI will be sure to be gentle with you. If it gets overwhelming, use the safe word. Understood?โ€
Although blind, your trust in the man is incomparable. โ€œUnderstood, master.โ€
โ€œGood girl,โ€ your mind tries to comprehend as lithe fingers start to trace from your shoulders to the dip of your chest, โ€œlet me see how much of a good girl you are for me.โ€
Tingles of fire in the wake of his touch. Your mind doesn't cooperate now, even as you feel his hand put a light pressure on your thighs.
โ€œPretty,โ€ your master comments, inhaling your scent, โ€œwhat a pliant little girl you are.โ€
You feel it, a long, slender finger brushing that part of you that you've never touched before. You gasped from his touch, yet unable to close your legs from the ropes he tied on you. โ€œI-I'm sorry for being loud, master...โ€
โ€œI would much rather have you be loud than be silent, dearest,โ€ Zhongli's voice is a sultry comfort, loudly close enough that you felt the vibrations close to your throbbing pussy, โ€œmm, archons, you are already drenched.โ€
โ€œI-Is it bad, master?โ€
โ€œNo.โ€ He said nothing more, only his fingers dipping experimentally and drawing slow, slow circles down there, โ€œThis is perfect.โ€
A surprised whine poured out of your lips, as you felt his finger slip inside your wet hole, fast and already filling the gap in between you. โ€œM-Master Zhongli-!โ€
โ€œYes, dear, fuck,โ€ it's the first time you've heard your master swear, that it made you throb down there, โ€œmm, did that turn you on?โ€
โ€œI-I-โ€
โ€œDoes your master being vulgar to his little girl turn you on?โ€ You cried out as he started to thrust his slender fingers, โ€œseems like you do.โ€
The flat of his palm rests and rubs on your clit, your tummy feeling so warm and shaking. โ€œM-Master, i-it feels so...good...but why do I feel like s-something is coming out...!โ€
โ€œThat's alright, little girl,โ€ his fingers assaulting your little pussy starts to be more ruthless, a finger slipping inside, โ€œit means you're doing a good- fuck - job for me.โ€
A waterfall of moans escapes your lips, tears prickling your blindfolded eyes. โ€œM-Master Zhongli...!โ€
When his fingers curved inside of you, they hit a particular soft spot that somehow made you see stars in the midst of your blindness. With a loud cry of his name, you crumbled in his fingers, something liquid squirting out of you. Zhongli fucks you through your first orgasm of the night, your squirt coating his drenched fingers, coaxing whatever you had left.
Heavy sighs and breathing filled the room. Your shaking figure, in the dimly lit room, and Zhongli thinks you're the prettiest he's ever seen in his entire lifetime.
โ€œM-Master,โ€
โ€œGood girl,โ€ he coos, bringing his coated fingers to his mouth to taste your sweet essence, โ€œI think you can take one more, hm?โ€
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! โ€” Baizhu: Beyond Mortality [ oral sex: cunnilingus ]
โ€œPlease open your legs,โ€ said the timid doctor of Bubu Pharmacy, โ€œI need to check what the problem is.โ€
Under the careful gaze of Baizhu, you shyly parted your legs. You were sitting on the patient bed of the back room of the pharmacy. You forgot to wear your underwear, seemingly noticeable as you were in a rush to your appointment with the doctor. Expecting a female doctor to attend to your needs, you were in for a surprise as the famed doctor himself was the one facing you instead.
His snake-like amber eyes carefully eyed your exposed cunt. It made you want to cover them, but his strong grip made you open your legs wider.
โ€œIs...โ€ you gulped, looking away as you felt his intense stare down there, โ€œ...is there a problem?โ€
โ€œHm,โ€ it seems hard to decipher the emotions on his face. โ€œIt's quite complicated.โ€
Trying to take the awkwardness away, you coughed. Looking around, you somehow noticed the empty space on his shoulders, unaccustomed to the snake that always accompanied the doctor.
โ€œDoctor Baizhu,โ€ you spoke, voice cracking, โ€œwhere is the little snake on your neck?โ€
โ€œAh, Changshang is not around yet.โ€ He flashed a sweet smile to you, slightly calming your anxiety, โ€œI let her sleep in for now. Worry not, fortunately your symptoms are fairly easy to fix.โ€
โ€œReally?โ€ You sighed in relief, somehow the mental counting of your expected expenses lessening, โ€œcan I ask what's it about?โ€
โ€œHowever, I'd still like to be sure so I can give a proper diagnosis. May I...touch you?โ€
You nodded easily. Fairly easily, it's almost as if you were expecting so. Noticing your behavior, you shook your head and nodded slowly again. โ€œI- um, of course, Doctor Baizhu.โ€
He dipped two of his fingers into a container close to him, a sticky, slime-like fluid coating his fingers. You stared at his ministration, almost as if in a trance: the way he lifted his hands, the two fingers mimicking a scissors. Slowly, they descended down to your core, and your heart skipped a beat as they lightly pressed onto your outside labia. Quickly taking your hand to suppress a sound, a muffled squeak instead made Baizhu laugh.
โ€œMy, that's cute. You don't need to hide your noises from me, dear,โ€ he spoke softly, if he was aware that the two fingers rubbing your outside labia started, โ€œNow, tell me: what happened and when did this happen?โ€
He seemed to know what he was doing. Trying to take off the distraction from down there, you try to recount what happened to you.
โ€œUm...I was just walking around the harbor, I- uh, I saw a bunch of flowers...and ah, hah...I saw...โ€
The more you spoke, the more Baizhu's fingers were rubbing circles on your cunt. You try to close your legs, but Baizhu's grip was too strong.
โ€œDear, you were in the middle of talking,โ€ his amber eyes were somehow entrancing you, that you never noticed you were lowering your hands to hold onto the hem of your skirt. โ€œPlease do not mind me; continue.โ€
โ€œU-um...I saw,โ€ looking away, you murmured, โ€œyou, Doctor Baizhu...โ€
โ€œMmm, and then?โ€
โ€œI-I don't k-know...I started to feel all these, hah, things...l-like d-down there, I feel like I'm peeing...ah-โ€
You were cut off as you felt Baizhu's fingers graze your clit, a jolt of something good running through your body. A confused moan came out of your lips, embarrassment in the form of red cheeks evident as you noticed Baizhu smiling at you.
โ€œI-I'm so sorry, Doctor! I didn't-โ€
โ€œPlease, darling,โ€ he assured you with his free hand, the one on your cunt tapping happily on your nub, โ€œdon't apologize. Do not hide your voice from me, and don't feel embarrassed as well. This is just one of the ways that can help with the alleviation of your illness.โ€
His hand withdrew from you (a sense of disappointment scoured down there), โ€œI think I know what this is. I have the medicine that you need. Would you like for me to administer it now?โ€
โ€œY-Yes!โ€ You nodded, โ€œplease fix me...โ€
โ€œI will. Now, will you please go on all fours?โ€
You followed his orders; awkward as it was, but Baizhu grabs your hips, pulling it closer to him, his hand pushing you gently onto the pillows.
โ€œThat's it, good girl.โ€ You don't like, that praise somehow made your pussy throb, โ€œI have an apparatus that can clean up your pussy. This may be overwhelming at first, but rest assured, you will feel better.โ€
You couldn't see what was happening, but you felt something long and sleek slip in between your puffy folds, causing you to moan out loud and grip the sheets. Not long after, something wet graces your sensitive nub, sucking it mercilessly.
Your jaw falls open, blinding pleasure wrecking your body into uncontrollable shaking. You could have lost yourself in it if it weren't for the grip Baizhu hand on your hips, probably enough to bruise you. But you didn't care; all you could feel was the delicious friction of something added more onto your gaping hole and your throbbing clit. Alas, it curved deep into you, a sensation that was foreign in your own innocent body.
โ€œB-Baizhu!โ€ you cried out, feeling something unravel on your stomach, โ€œw-what-โ€
However, his answers fall deaf to your ears. You came all over the โ€œapparatusโ€. Tears fall endlessly on your face, as you feel the apparatus diligently suck on your quivering hole, seemingly eager to clean it up. It felt like a long time before the shaking in your bones subsided, somehow overwhelmed with what happened earlier.
Gently guiding your hips to the bed, you heave long inhales, the world spinning from your vision.
โ€œ...ear? Dear? Are you alright?โ€ Baizhu's voice brings you back to reality. Your eyes flutter open, still recounting the surge from earlier.
โ€œD...doctor Baizhu?โ€
โ€œAh, I'm sorry. Are you alright?โ€
โ€œY-yes...โ€ A dull pain paired with something leaking out from your pussy and into the sheets momentarily caused you to panic, but the assurance on Baizhu's face says otherwise. โ€œI- is my treatment done...?โ€
โ€œYes, do not worry. You will start feeling better in no time. If you feel like that again, please do not hesitate to approach me so we can fix you up again.โ€
โ€œA-alright, thank you so much, Doctor Baizhu...โ€ You stood on wobbly legs, only to realize something on your stomach, โ€œAlthough, what is this...?โ€
โ€œOh, that.โ€ Baizhu wipes away the wetness on his chin, before looking at you with glinting amber eyes, โ€œIt's a medicine. It helps me know that you need help. If it glows, it's best you come here so I can fix you up.โ€
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! โ€” Tighnari: Verdant Strider [ aphrodisiacs ]
You never should have gone out on patrol.
Despite being a careful Forest Ranger, with years of experience carrying that title, you still get to be a victim of unfortunate circumstances. Sometimes, you trip over the spinocrocodiles on the lakes, or trip over large vines, or sometimes encounter a handful of Witherings all by yourself. It's all because of you and your poor excuse of mortal vision. Sometimes, you wished you were like Tighnari and his keen sense of smell and sight. But alas, you were human and not some hybrid.
But anyways, back to the problem at hand โ€” or hands, because your body feels hot and aching all over, with the intense need to strip off and touch your now-wet pussy. Groaning and moaning as you crawled to the nearest hut, you desperately wished for some miracle to actually help you in this (unfortunate) situation.
But perhaps some archon took pity on you โ€” the door of the hut opened even before you could knock. Plagued with an intense need, you try not to strip yourself now. The blinding yellow light caused your sight to disappear, before the outline of a familiar, pretty face and headwear shaped like a fox โ€” wait.
โ€œT-Tighna-โ€
โ€œY/N?โ€ He called out, his usual hands devoid of gloves covering his nose, โ€œI smelled you. What happened?โ€
You paid no mind to his use of words. Right now, his voice and himself were driving you to the point of madness. โ€œHelp,โ€ you cried out, โ€œI'm sorry.โ€
Quickly, he ushers you inside of his abode, locking it for good measure. You stumbled onto the floor, clumsily stripping out of your uniform and leaving you bare in your undershirt. You heard Tighnari call out your name, but you were too busy rolling on the rug.
โ€œS-stop that,โ€ he said, โ€œwhat happened to you?โ€
โ€œUgh, hah, Tighnari...I feel hot all over...โ€
โ€œDid you stumble on some poisonous plant?โ€
โ€œNo...โ€ you slurred, a little bit of your rationality holding on to stop you from stripping off your pants, โ€œI smelled some flowers...while on patrol...I didn't see...that they were aphrodisiacs...โ€
Attempting to open your eyes, you find worried verdant greens staring back at you. You've always liked Tighnari, but right now, the horny in your brain makes you want to strip him clean and make him cum-
โ€œHelp,โ€ you cried out once more, โ€œtouch me, Tighnari, please.โ€
โ€œI-โ€
The last of your rationality snaps. Pulling down your pants, along with your panties, you stare at the man as you start to rub your oversensitive cunt. You never broke your glance at him, even as you easily cum from your own touch.
โ€œTighnari, Tighnari,โ€ you moaned his name, โ€œneed you now, want you to stuff me full of your dick, want to have you cum lots on me, please.โ€
Tighnari doesn't look away. Instead, he is entranced with the way your fingers dipped in and out of your drenched pussy. You see his tail puff out and somehow you remember - it's a telltale sign that he's eager.
โ€œMmfuck,โ€ Tighnari cursed, trying to look away. But you were far too horny to react; raising your legs and opening them for him, you greedily chased your high as you abused your pussy.
โ€œT-Tighnari,โ€ you cried out his name as you orgasmed for the second time, โ€œneed you inside...โ€
โ€œDon't regret this.โ€ His vibrant green eyes turned dark in the light, lust clouding his vision as he stripped off his pants. It's so fucking hot, you admit, when he's like you, the last rationality stripping away.
Well, fucking your boss doesn't seem that bad, right?
Tighnari slipped in his hardened cock inside of you easily. You moaned out his name, feeling full as you felt his dick poke the deepest part of you. Roughly grabbing your hips, he easily manhandled you to the wall, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist.
โ€œYou just inhaled some aphrodisiacs and now you're acting like a slut.โ€ He growled, speaking through gritted teeth. His thrusts on your pussy are driving you mad, that you unconsciously came over once more. โ€œYou probably inhaled that just so you can find an excuse to fuck me, isn't it?โ€
Euphoria and pleasure intertwine in your foggy mind, nails scratching his back. You whined as his dick hits that one specific spot, another orgasm clawing down there.
โ€œWhat if I d-did, ah,โ€ you bit back, but Tighnari saw through your play, mercilessly drilling onto that spot, โ€œTi-Tighnari-โ€
โ€œNo wonder you've been looking all doe-like to me. Should have known that you weren't so innocent, that you are just a slut wanting to be fucked by her own boss.โ€
You came from his words once more, pussy violently spasming over his cock. Tighnari seemed to follow after, feeling the rush of his seed coating your inside. Suddenly, you feel something else poking inside of you, before effortlessly slipping into you, aided by the mixture of your arousal.
โ€œH-huh-โ€
โ€œThere's still aphrodisiacs in your system, no?โ€ Tighnari ruts into you, a whine escaping your lips, โ€œYou triggered my rut, thanks to your influence. Now you'll have to suffer with me until it's over.โ€
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please like, reblog, comment if you likey! please don't copy, plagiarize, or translate my work without my permission!
-ห‹ห starryficsfinishwen หŽหŠ
454 notes ยท View notes
teatimecontea ยท 8 months
Text
PGR ACTIVATION DATES
Table of Content
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JANUARY
Qu: January 3rd
No. 21: January 21st
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FEBRUARY
Lamia: February 21st
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MARCH
Karenina: March 2nd Alisa: March 22nd
Noctis: March 25th
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APRIL
Changyu: April 7th
Watanabe: April 12th
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MAY
Roland: May 2nd Wanshi: May 21st
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JUNE
ฮฑ & Lucia: June 15th %^&$*&$>?? [Unknown Mail] [Intercepted] Dear Commandant Excerpt From "Lucia's Journal" ? ............ ใ€Œxใ€
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JULY
Lee: July 23rd Tonight... ... ............ ใ€Œxใ€ Hanying: July 24th Chrome: July 31st Activation Date Invitation Sorry, I'll Be Late ............ ใ€Œxใ€
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AUGUST
Noan: August 8th Liv: August 10th Pulao: August 15th Commandant! Happy Birthday! AะAAAAAะะะะ SORRY FOR THE MIX-UP ............ ใ€Œxใ€
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SEPTEMBER
Selena: September 27th
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OCTOBER
Sophia: October 3rd
Camu & Kamui: October 23rd ............ ใ€Œxใ€ Luna: October 26th ............ ใ€Œxใ€
Vera: October 31st ............ ใ€Œxใ€
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NOVEMBER
Bianca: November 21st
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DECEMBER
Bambinata: December 5th Ayla: December 15th Rosetta: December 25th
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UNKNOWN
Nanami: ??? Haicma: ???
14 notes ยท View notes
bluetwae ยท 2 years
Text
Banji that was fucking hot.
(I've been wanting to play him for sooo long but global is slow at releasing so I made an account in JP and 10/10 best decision of my life.)
59 notes ยท View notes
starryficsfinishwen ยท 8 months
Text
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โœงใ€‚โ—Ÿ[NSFW] แด…ส€ษชแด แด‡ โ€” wanshi x reader [PGR]
all we do is think about the feelings that we hide
a.n. - halsey thanks for this beautiful song (titled "drive" too), you gave me too much inspo and I love it. also I ended up listening to the whole Badlands album as I write this down lmao also here's to hoping we get an s wanshi soon!
pairing - wanshi x f!doctor
words - 3,476
warnings - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. MAJOR SMUT AHEAD: thigh riding, penetration, degradation (mentions of whore, slut), orgasm denial, creampie??. mean!dom!wanshi x sub!bratty reader. bratty reader because hehe. also a little exhibitionism down there. STRONG USE OF MATURE LANGUAGE. friends with benefits au! doesn't seem like this thing has plot kek just purely smut, I swear.
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Anger has a vice grip on your throat.
Clawing and clamoring at the apex of your tongue, teeth gritting hard to prevent the profanity from spewing on your lips. Your shoulders shake as the events of earlier replay in your mind, fingers curled into fists that you feel your nails digging into the palm of your hand โ€” it's raw; how anger bubbles like a pan full of boiling water, and you want to throw it away viciously into the source of your miseries.
Fuck the autonomy. Fuck the anarchy of your workplace. Fuck the Star of Life.
You wanted nothing more than to let the anger run wild and hope it won't make a home out of your hollowed out chest.
Fortunately for you, the ride you've been waiting for has finally arrived.
The clanking of your heels reverberates throughout the hall as you walk to your transport, but you no longer care if someone watches. Flinging the car door open, you throw yourself onto the chair, slamming the door shut. Your anger doesn't sizzle out, instead, it flares up the moment you catch a glimpse of silver hair in your peripheral vision.
โ€œSo angry today,โ€ he chuckles, with a deep voice laced with grogginess, โ€œwhere to, Princess?โ€
โ€œAnywhere.โ€ You flat out spoke, not bothering to hide the annoyance in the way you speak, โ€œJust drive.โ€
He doesn't say a word; instead, he fiddles with the keys, the engine revving back to life. Staring outside the moving car, you find yourself swimming, bathing in the city lights of Babylonia's nightlife.
It stays that way: the occasional sound of the wheels passing through asphalt and concrete, his stepping on the accelerator, and the music of the Golden Age on his dashboard. You've long put on your seatbelt but twiddle the strap absentmindedly. You look away from the front, his gaze is on you. Your hands hold themselves into fists, his left on the steering wheel and the other on the stick shift. It doesn't quell the anger in your bones, it only feels too familiar. A routine, if you must.
โ€œYou must have done something.โ€ His usual sleepy voice is unlike when he's serious and focused. It's a voice that brings a shiver to your spine.
โ€œI haven't.โ€ You huffed, โ€œThis is none of your business.โ€
โ€œSaid the girl who called for me to pick her up.โ€ You don't miss the taunting smile tugging his lips, โ€œYou're a walking contradiction.โ€
โ€œWanshi.โ€ The name goes as an echo in your head, as a shiver down there, โ€œDid I not tell you to shut up?โ€
โ€œThen, you shouldn't have called for me.โ€ His voice is sharp enough to cut through silence.
It agitates you. The feelings resurface โ€” anger, frustration, indignation โ€” all crashing into something horribly beautiful, something that claws from the back of your throat to the inside of your thighs (you cross them together now, Wanshi doesn't turn a blind eye to it). Your anger resigns for a short while; your hand reaches and wraps itself on the hand on the stick shift, grasping and desperate to show who's boss.
โ€œDrive,โ€ you muttered, โ€œKeep driving until I say so.โ€
Sooner or later, the scenery turns into something you're familiar with. It doesn't take long; the humming of the engine, the tale-tell sign of the starry night lulling into midnight, the ocean waves crashing onto the shore, the throbbing of your core aching and aching.
You hear the chair creak. You look away from the ocean. You look at the man instead.
Silver hair, refined jaw, pale face. He reclines himself on the back of the car door, legs spread out up to your thighs. He stares back at you, amber eyes illuminated with an emotion you've long recognized since you both established this contract.
โ€œWell, what are you waiting for?โ€ He whispered, โ€œUse me as you like.โ€
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It makes you rethink the contract.
But you're here anyways: straddling his thighs, your legs clenching on it as if your dear life depends on it, hands clawing on his hips. The medical gown you wore is now slung lazily on your chair, the first two buttons on your uniform already open as your cleavage is shown in all its glory, your teeth biting down on the hem of your skirt. You've long discarded your underwear (it's in his pockets, you're somehow aware), and you're desperately humping on Wanshi's thighs.
Whines of frustration escape your quivering lips, the anger in your bones twisting and turning, wanting to be transformed into pure pleasure. But such pleas fall deaf on Wanshi's ears, as his attention is elsewhere but you.
โ€œWanshi,โ€ your call becomes a whimper, much to your chagrin, โ€œPay attention to me.โ€
โ€œYou think you deserve it?โ€ He chuckles, amber eyes focused on the book he held, โ€œAfter being such a brat? Is that how I should be treated?โ€
โ€œYou- ngh,โ€ your pussy flinches, as it catches a part of his pants that deliciously rubbed your neglected clit, โ€œI-I wasn't...โ€
โ€œWork hard for it, doctor.โ€ His teasing makes your hole quiver once more, the title somehow causing you to be more embarrassed with what you're doing with a man like him.
You've long noticed the tent in his pants, twitching whenever you cried out. Trying to relieve from its restraints, you slowly rubbed it, the outline surpassing the length of your fingers, leather wet from the constraints held somewhere inside-
Wanshi flicks away your hand. Amber eyes stare at you, to which you glare back.
โ€œFuck you.โ€
โ€œI will, when you stop being a brat.โ€
Your ego, unfortunately, doesn't bow down to such a request. You want it raw - the thrill of sex sending your mind into overdrive, the grasps of hands you'd lose sensation from holding on too much. And so, you continue to grind on his thighs, wherever the mere journey of your escapade ends.
You look at him once more โ€” Wanshi. BPE-47. Support-type construct. You've always known him as a reliable healer, for both humans and constructs. After all, he's been a revered war hero and nurse, someone who could keep everyone around him alive. But why is it now, he who made this contract with you, making you choke in the loss of pleasure? You don't even remember the details as to when you've both made this arrangement. All you want right now is just to be fucked full by him and him alone.
โ€œMm?โ€ Wanshi's eyes flickered at you, and it made your heart skip a beat, โ€œThat's new. Did you only call me just so you can do this?โ€
โ€œNo.โ€ You hurriedly said, the pleasure starting to seep into you, wetness coating a patch in his pants, โ€œI...I was just thinking.โ€
โ€œSay it, then.โ€ He lowers the book in his hand, eyes now attentively looking at your every move, โ€œI don't have all night.โ€
โ€œI-I had to do 4 operations in two straight days.โ€ You began, gritting your teeth, the reminiscent anger poking you incessantly, โ€œThe nurses were bitches throughout the operation.โ€
A hand crawls ever so slowly to your thighs. He rubs slow and languid circles, tracing up to the outline of your skirt. โ€œMm, then?โ€
โ€œI told...I told them to be more attentive or the patient would deviate,โ€ you see his hand caressing outside your uniform, twiddling the bottom buttons, and you swallowed, โ€œbut, ah- they didn't listen...โ€
He's opening the first button. With his amber eyes, he threatens to stop if you stopped talking. And so, you continue, โ€œThe-The doctors were assholes as well.โ€
You want more, the anger subsiding into something you've craved for: pleasure. He's being attentive, finally. The book was already discarded to the dashboard of the car, two of his hands unbuttoning your uniform agonizingly slow (his fingers would slip through, your torso shivering at his every touch). Although you've been talking about your shitty experiences at the Star of Life, they've become a mindless babble to you, mind occupied with the way his hands were exploring the expanse of your exposed skin as the last button is finally opened. Wanshi drags his fingers over your stomach, your sides, your hips- his fingers trail to your back, unhooks your bra fast, like how he has been doing for a long, long while now, hands now cupping your breasts, touching everywhere else there but the two neglected nubs.
โ€œThat's it?โ€ His movements halt, causing you to whine, but his hands are still holding your chest, โ€œOver trivial matters?โ€
You don't remember it being trivial. Ah, maybe it is, now that he's touching you, now that you're too hell-bent on wanting his touch for you. Wanshi looks at you, a free hand reaching out to your chin. His thumb rubs the outline of your lips, carefully staring at your contorting expression. He's always done this before- watching you as if memorizing your every move. Without a warning, he slips his thumb past your lips, toying with your tongue. Your hips stutter at the intrusion, as he squeezes your chest.
โ€œYou know, I never got to tell you this, you may look pretty when you're talking about your problems at work.โ€ He glances at your lips taking in his thumb, before looking up at your irises, voice dropping an octave lower. โ€œBut you always look prettier when you're silent and sucking on something else.โ€
He matches the thrust of his fingers in your mouth to your hips. Pleasure rebuilds itself as knots in your stomach, his hands and mouth aiding as he latches on one mound, his other free hand fondling your other breast. It drives you wild and wilder, waiting for the right time to come, with or without his permission.
Yet, before you could, the sound of an engine draws closer, closer to where Wanshi had parked the car. Fear intertwines your sense of pleasure, pussy violently clenching around nothing, as your hips falter with irregular movements. Wanshi noticed it long before you, so before you could surrender yourself to the pleasure, he pulls himself away.
A regretful moan escapes your mouth, the telltale sign of the ruined orgasm causing the anger in your muscles to reignite. โ€œWhat the hell-โ€
โ€œI didn't tell you to cum yet.โ€ He looks behind to see another car parked beside him. โ€œTsk, a shame.โ€
He says so, but he pulls you closer. It catches you off-guard, moaning out his name as you feel the friction of his bulge under your soaking pussy. โ€œDo you want to be caught like this, doctor? Would you like to be known that an esteemed doctor of the Star of Life is moaning like a cheap whore inside this car?โ€
Your cunt throbs at his words. Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes, as you cover your mouth. Your face rests on his shoulder, eyes trailing as you recognize the car next to you. Two people step out, wearing the same lab gown you have, but you couldn't recognize the faces. Effortlessly lifting you up, he starts to unzip his pants. While he's at it, you can feel the outline of his hand under you, and you're sure he's purposely teasing you more. You grunt out in annoyance, to which he only laughs.
โ€œSo naughty,โ€ he drags the zipper down awfully slow, โ€œI should have known when you've already wet yourself in my pants. I wonder how my captain would react.โ€
He leans upward, teeth grazing your ear, โ€œThat a little whore has been playing with her toy.โ€
โ€œWanshi,โ€ your mouth betrays you, a breathy moan calling out his name. You feel his thumb rubbing your overstimulated clit now, ruthlessly shoving a finger into your quivering hole.
โ€œI'm not fucking you like this,โ€ He whispers, continuing his ministrations as he nibbles your earlobe, โ€œYou've been so bratty lately, you're ruining the mood.โ€
Your ego is your Achilles' heel. You want it to crumble, you want it down, just to let him in. But instead, it makes you bite your lips to prevent moans from coming out, it makes you shake. Your strength has long disappeared already though, making you unable to shake away the hand that is abusing your trembling pussy.
โ€œFuck you.โ€
โ€œAm I not doing that right now, darling?โ€ Chuckling, he fiddles with your ruined hair, โ€œWe've long established that, haven't we?โ€
The two people outside of the car are laughing now. You're suddenly aware: the car windows aren't that tinted, and you know that they will notice the shake of the car. Wanshi starts to groan.
โ€œFuck- ah, you're squeezing my hand now. Did you think you'll cum that easily?โ€
โ€œN-no, I-โ€
โ€œ-oh, or did the newcomers notice?โ€ He starts to laugh, mischievously pulling his hands away, โ€œI think you know these people, yes? They seem nice. Should we give them a show?โ€
โ€œWanshi don't be stu- ah,โ€
Without a warning, Wanshi sinks his cock into you in one fluid thrust. A loud moan of his name tumbles out of your lips, and he has to shove his fingers in your mouth.
You feel so full, so fucking full. You imagine it now, his cockhead teasing your cervix, girth pulsating deeply in your walls.
โ€œYou actually want to put on a show, huh?โ€ You taste yourself in the fingers inside your mouth, albeit bitter, but you're too focused on his length that seemed to already reach the deepest part down there.
โ€œ[Y/N]- nngh, you're so tight.โ€ He pulls you by the shoulder, smiling when he sees the look on your face, โ€œ...already fucked out?โ€
As if in a daze, you shake your head, โ€œN-No...I-โ€ Your whines grew into something pitiful, as you mindlessly ground your hips, desperate to make him move already, โ€œWanshi, Wanshi,โ€
He pulls his fingers away to grasp your chin, angling to kiss you. It's rough, it's soft, it's everything - the first proper kiss of tonight, you should've memorized it: his tongue, his lips, the outline.
โ€œHow pretty,โ€ his chuckles passed through your ear and exited to the other, his eyes taking sight of you unraveling like this in his lap, โ€œMy pretty little slut.โ€
The slapping of skin. The sound of lips crashing onto each other. There are no lovers in this story. Only two individuals in one car, chasing the heights and highs of infatuation, drilled in the expanse of lust. One chases the thrill of sex, the other- no one knows. Wanshi could only behold this sight that only he can see alone, ingrained in his M.I.N.D.
His hand grips your hips, nails digging in so that he'll leave bruises in the morning. Latching on one mound, he sucks on it as if his life depended on it. Upon hearing your moan, Wanshi begins to thrust upwards.
โ€œYou like that, don't you, doctor?โ€ A title that he's long forgotten in the past, now used for someone he adores, โ€œI think you've done enough. Let me return your favor.โ€
He feels your pussy clench as he jerked to meet your movement. Low, breathy groans intertwined with whiny moans. You've probably forgotten your name now, as your mouth only calls out to the man fucking you full. Although he fucks you ruthlessly, his gaze seems gentle. Forget the world outside, or the people close โ€” you endlessly chase this heavenly high.
โ€œYou're close.โ€
โ€œMmph, mmhm-โ€ Your fingers find themselves tangled in his hair, your other hand holding onto his shirt. โ€œI...I have o-one- ah, more request.โ€
โ€œSay it.โ€
You looked up, exposing your neck. You've always fooled around with Wanshi, yet nothing but bruises hidden under uniforms and shirts. And right now...you're asking for something that seems different than the usual arrangement.
โ€œMark me,โ€ you whispered, โ€œplease.โ€
It's a plead, not a request. But who was Wanshi to deny you, when you've asked so sweetly? Pulling you closer, one hand propped under your pussy and twiddling with your clit, Wanshi bares his teeth near your neck, breath fogging even your common sense.
โ€œYou will cum when I say so, [Y/N].โ€ He hears you whine, โ€œYou better listen.โ€
You're listening all right. Not when the overstimulation clouds your judgment, not when you hear the suspicion on the outsider's faces, not when Wanshi starts to nip that specific side of your neck- you try not to cum. No, you were far better than that. You forgot that this was just an arrangement, a contract.
The first bite in your neck is painful, but it sends you to paradise. Your body shakes, an impending orgasm rushing to meet you. Wanshi wishes to extend his fun, but he knows you've done enough, too fucked out to make thorough judgments. And he hears the outsiders talk closer now.
โ€œ[Y/N],โ€ it's warm, it's hot โ€” your cunt, molded now into the shape of his cock, after being fucked by him multiple times now โ€” he wishes he could stay that way, entrapped in your warmth, but he feels his own self-control wither, โ€œI'm close.โ€
Your pussy trembles in response. With one last thought, he whispers in your ear, โ€œWho's making you like this, hm?โ€
โ€œW-Wanshi,โ€
Your last thought is white noise. His thumb rubs your clit messily, before the magic word arrives, โ€œCum.โ€
You do. Oblivious to the world, you come undone, come unraveled in Wanshi's lap, mouth babbling words that you would never say when you're sober. You forget you're a doctor, you forget he's a construct. You forget everything but Wanshi and his name.
Wanshi fucks you through your orgasms, the grip of your hand in his hair grounding him as thick cum fills your overstimulated cunt. He calls out your name, a low moan that echoes in your ear. One rational sense hears the outsiders going back into the car, seemingly driving away. The other is busy holding your slacked body against him, breathing into the afterglow.
You think it's ethereal: his messy hair, the golden glow of the streetlight haloing behind him by the car window, your bodies molding into one another, each catching your breaths. Your eyes grow heavy. You think you should wash away the cum that's stuffed full of his now-softening dick inside you, but weariness slowly consumes you.
When the dark consumes you, you feel a gentle caress on your cheek, paired something warm covering your naked body.
โ€œSleep well, Princess.โ€
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Solemnity flutters in your chest.
The next moment you wake, your body is heavy. But your head is on something soft, a pillow propped under it. You try to sit up, but you realize a new set of clothes is on you.
โ€œI cleaned you up, Princess.โ€ Wanshi's voice answers the questions running through your head, โ€œYou were snoozing too peacefully even when I was dressing you up.โ€
He's now sitting properly in the driver's seat as if nothing hot happened to the both of you earlier. Amber eyes are trailed to the sea, the glow of the streetlight showing the contours of his face.
A faint blush dusts your cheeks, โ€œThank you...โ€
โ€œDon't mention it. I think it's time for you to go back to work anyways, wouldn't want your patients to be left alone.โ€
As he starts the engine, you start to think. Did you want to go back to the Star of Life now? The night seemed so early, and you wanted to spend more time with him. It wasn't part of the contract, right? A tug in your chest begs to be noticed, wanting him to notice it for himself.
His hand is on the stick shift. You reached out and held it. He looks at you, and you stare at his amber irises.
โ€œWanshi,โ€ you breathed, โ€œkiss me.โ€
โ€œ...did I not fuck the brattiness out of you earlier?โ€
The blush on your cheek deepened. โ€œW-Wanshi...!โ€
He laughs genuinely now. You tug on his hand once more. Looking at you, he silently licks his lips. โ€œAre you sure?โ€
โ€œYes.โ€ You spoke, โ€œKiss me, Wanshi.โ€
He's the first to reach out and cup your cheeks. Doing the favor to lean closer, foreheads touching, you closed your eyes. You feel his lips - cold, soft, wanting to be warm - before he closed the gap.
This kiss is softer, sweeter now. You wondered once if this contract would morph into something better, something warmer. But his kiss is now something you could equally call desperation, a want distinct to lust. You've both waited for this. He tilts your face, only to deepen the kiss.
Hesitantly, you pull away when you part for air. You opened your eyes to find Wanshi's lips swollen, a blush mirroring your own. Your hand is still with his. He doesn't move away.
โ€œI'll...take you back to the hospital now.โ€
โ€œI want to stay with you.โ€ You squeezed his hand, โ€œlet's drive for now.โ€
And maybe you would talk a bit more than just drive.
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likes, shares, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Please don't copy and plagiarize my work!!
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starryficsfinishwen ยท 1 year
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Lee, Chrome, Wanshi, Watanabe x Commandant. what do yall think ๐Ÿ‘€
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starryficsfinishwen ยท 1 month
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โœงใ€‚โ—ŸสŸแดแด แด‡ แดแด‡ สŸษชแด‹แด‡ สแดแดœ ! โ€” PGR Men x reader
last night, I laid in bed so blue / then I realized the truth!
summary // how do your favorite constructs kiss you?
a.n. - post Valentine's post :D I've been so busy with irl lately, I only just got back on my Tumblr ๐Ÿซ  how'd your valentine's go?(I had a date with my school project :'D so peinful)
pairing(s) - lee, chrome, wanshi, kamui, camu, watanabe, noan, roland, noctis x f!commandant (and can be gender neutral!) (separate!)
content // suggestive LOL basically how your favorite playable characters would kiss you scenarios~
dividers by @/saradika-graphics!
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หš เผ˜โ™ก โ‹†๏ฝกหš Lee: Hyperreal
Kissing Lee is like breathing.
Inhaling, in the way his hands are on your jaw, the little smile on your lips when his breath fans yours. Breathing in, the smell of the cologne you've gifted him makes you dizzy in a good way, the softest brush of his mouth on the corner of your lips. Taking in, the taste of chocolate; bitter as the coffee you made the first time, yet morphs into something so sweet as sugar cookies, and you can feel him smiling as your lips meet, savoring every drop he offersโ€”
Exhaling, as Lee pulls away to give you air, foreheads touching, because you are both too intertwined to move away from one another.
โ€œWe made quite a mess here,โ€ you giggled.
The newly-made kitchen of the Gray Raven base is as messy as a child's breakfast: pots and pans strung everywhere, chocolates and other liquids splattered all over the counter, the drain is probably clogging for some reason (it was Lee's fault), and there was a burnt cake placed somewhere (your fault) but you both never minded those.
โ€œI told you to let me handle all the baking,โ€ Lee huffs, thumbs unconsciously caressing your jaw, โ€œYou had to be so stubborn.โ€
โ€œI knew what I was doing,โ€ you pout, โ€œYou always follow the recipe, even though you could just do some feeling!โ€
โ€œI am starting to doubt your feelings. Remember the first-โ€
โ€œ-not another word.โ€
โ€œOkay, okay, I'm sorry to burst your bubble.โ€ Lee smiles at you, hands now placed beside your legs on the table you sat on, โ€œWe might as well clean up and just order something else.โ€
โ€œNooo,โ€ you whine, tugging on his 'Kiss the Cook' apron, โ€œThe last cake is in the oven. It'll be done. I promise, it will taste yummy.โ€
Your lover laughs, his head rubbing your cheek, โ€œRemind me again why we are baking?โ€
โ€œIt was supposed to be my surprise for you for Valentine's.โ€ You admit, sighing, โ€œYou had to come and ruin it.โ€
Everything feels natural; his body fills in the gaps in yours. His head rests on your neck, your hand on his cheek and hair, his arms on your waist. You breathe in the same air, laughing off the smell of the burnt cake from earlier.
โ€œI'm sorry,โ€ he softly murmurs, his lips lightly kissing your neck, โ€œ...at least I get to take you out tonight.โ€
โ€œTonight?โ€ Did you have a plan for tonight?
โ€œYes. I reserved a table for us at the restaurant you like.โ€
What a surprise. Pulling away to look at Lee's cerulean eyes, you somehow realized something:
โ€œI thought you hated dining outside of our lounge.โ€
โ€œI do,โ€ Lee purses his lips, before sighing, โ€œbut I know we've been busy and you wanted to eat outside. Besides, it's still practical because of the restaurant's offer for Valentine's.โ€
Ah, this man is so smooth. You already knew that it wasn't just for that reason. Leaning to press your lips into his, you could feel your heart leap out of joy. You could hear the ting of the oven, but you never cared. You only wanted Lee's kissโ€” Lee's love, in the form of inhaling, taking in, exhaling.
โ€œCommandant,โ€ Lee pulls away slightly, whispering, โ€œthe cake-โ€
โ€œI love you, Lee,โ€ you giggled, hands threading in his hair as you purposely let your leg catch that particular spot that made him shudder, โ€œYou're so sly.โ€
โ€œ...You better finish what you've started, Commandant.โ€
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หš เผ˜โ™ก โ‹†๏ฝกหš Chrome: Glory
Kissing Chrome is needy.
It's hot, it's heavyโ€” his hands that grasped your shoulders, almost afraid you'd disappear if he wasn't careful; yet, still so gentleโ€” his lips on yours are so soft, you feel like you'd melt if he wasn't holding you.
โ€œI missed you,โ€ Chrome mumbles when he parted from yours for air, โ€œI missed you so damn much.โ€
It's not a common occurrence for the both of you to be away from each other. He was the Captain of Strike Hawk, and you had your own team. But to be away from the public eye, to be in some random corner of the streets, as your heavy breathing mingled with one another and your bodies touching, you remember that you couldn't be away from your lover far too long now.
โ€œI missed you, Chrome, I missed you, too.โ€ You could sob from the intensity of your situation, hands reaching for whatever part of himโ€”his shoulders, his arms, his cheekโ€” โ€œThank God, I can finally see you.โ€
โ€œMe too,โ€ Chrome breathes, placing a kiss on the crown of your head, โ€œI couldn't wait any longer.โ€
โ€œDo you still have more appointments?โ€
โ€œI do,โ€ he groans, frustration evident on his pretty face, โ€œI still have to meet a few more people...โ€
โ€œI'm sorry.โ€
โ€œDon't be,โ€ Chrome is the one who apologizes instead, starry eyed twinkling that made you frown instead.
It's always busy and no rest days. Apart from your lover being such a dependable leader, sometimes, your greed makes you want to steal him away. But alas, as you caress his cheek, the cool touch of his skin underneath your fingertips, it makes you lean onto him, lips kissing his jaw.
โ€œ[Y/N]...?โ€
โ€œI missed your touch,โ€ You admit, hands now on his cheeks, โ€œI missed your face. I missed your hands, your kissesโ€” I don't want to be away from you longer.โ€
Was it your position that somehow made you hot? Or was it the way Chrome leaned more into you, kisses reaching every inch of your face, to your chin, to your exposed jawโ€” you stifle a quiet moan, as Chrome nips at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, something that you've never touched before, something that was a step closer into your relationship.
โ€œI am trying so hard not to overwhelm you, [Y/N]. I missed you so badly,โ€ Chrome groans, โ€œbut finally seeing you, finally being able to touch you...I want to show you how much I missed you, but I'm afraid it'll be too much...โ€
โ€œDon't stop,โ€ Boldly, you proclaimed, hands running through his hair, disrupting it into a messy one, โ€œLet's go home, Chrome. Show me how much you've missed me, and I'll show you mine.โ€
Pulling away so slightly, Chrome's turquoise irises reflecting a darker shade amidst the light from the crack of the corner. In between those eyes and your pending responsibilities, you already made your decision. As you feel Chrome's hold on your hips, you pressed your lips to him.
โ€œI hope you'll stay true to that offer, [Y/N].โ€
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หš เผ˜โ™ก โ‹†๏ฝกหšWanshi: Hypnos
Kissing Wanshi is dreamy.
In the tender tones of daylight, the artificial sun bleeding into your skin. There are too many touches all at once, but neither the two of you bother to pull away. Wanshi's lips find your skin without a hassle, humming when you swallow your laughs. He's everywhereโ€” your hand, your arm, your shoulder, the dip of your breasts, your clavicleโ€” everywhere but your face.
โ€œWanshi,โ€ you purred, never bothering to open your eyes, โ€œyou're so needy...โ€
โ€œHush, let me dream a bit longer,โ€ your lover sighs in your neck, nibbling your skin, โ€œit's not everyday I get to kiss you like this.โ€
โ€œWe'll both be late at this point. Didn't you say Captain Chrome warned you already?โ€
โ€œHe already put those rules before,โ€ he pauses, yawning, arms now wrapped possessively around your waist, โ€œI'm exempted.โ€
โ€œI won't be surprised if you get to be deprived of your capsule for another week...โ€
โ€œHey, this is about us today,โ€ he murmurs, lightly kissing the side of your neck, โ€œI don't want to hear another man's name in our bed...โ€
Your lover never learns. But still, you couldn't help but laugh at his antics. It's his problem anyways, not yours. As you giggle, your hand finds itself cupping Wanshi's soft cheeks, squeezing it.
โ€œWanshi, darling, we really need to get up soon. I also have work.โ€
You could feel Wanshi pouting against your skin. Without a warning, he gets on top of you, golden eyes looking at you. โ€œFive minutes. Give me five more minutes, and I'll let you go.โ€
As you were about to ask what he meant, Wanshi leans down to capture your lips with his. You squeak from surprise, but in the end, you couldn't help but submit to his whims. His soft lips, the love that permeates from him, slipping in so deeply into you as you felt yourself buried deeper into the sheets. Your hand finds his, intertwining as he leads it above your head. Forget your job, forget that it's another shitty work day; it's only you and Wanshi, in your bed, and his dreamy kisses.
You love Wanshi, and you'd always pick him, despite his sleepy circumstances, despite everything else.
โ€œMm...Wanshi, give me more than five minutes.โ€ You mutter, letting your legs wrap around his waist, pressing into him.
โ€œOh?โ€
โ€œYes, nngh, you win this time. Now, give me more kisses.โ€
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หš เผ˜โ™ก โ‹†๏ฝกหš Kamui: Tenebrion
Kissing Kamui is like catching the sun in both hands.
More like a surprise; playful shouting as he wins another round of your favorite game, leaving you dumbfounded in your chair. You love your man so much that you'd rather see him with that goofy smile on his face. But sometimes, some victories feel like they are being rubbed hard on your face.
โ€œHaha! This is the third time now!โ€
โ€œAlright, alright,โ€ you shrug, placing the controller down, watching Kamui lead out of his seat, โ€œYou win.โ€
โ€œDoes this mean I get to have the seat for a week?โ€
โ€œA month, too, if you want,โ€ you shrug again, โ€œCongratulations, Kamui.โ€
It's his playful character that made you fall for him in the first placeโ€” a unique laughter, the way his eyes crinkled with delight, how Kamui's feet would curl. But unbeknownst to him, however, you had another trick on your sleeve.
โ€œTime for a free round!โ€
โ€œNo, thank you,โ€ you flutter your eyes at him, โ€œI'd like to see you play for now. I might get you next time if I watch your movements.โ€
Kamui laughs instead, making your stomach jump, โ€œBabe, just watch, then. But I'm sure that I'll win again like always.โ€
As Kamui positions, your plan goes into play. He won't win against you, the real mastermind of the game.
Kamui's eyes glimmer as he focuses intently on the game. Somehow, in the middle of scoring another new record, his mind lands on you.
โ€œ[Y/N]? You seem qui-โ€
When he turns his head, he is met with a surprise kiss on his lips. Kissing Kamui always felt like reaching for the sun in your hands, especially this way: the surprised sound from his lips when they met yours, the softest yet so hot as he absentmindedly drops his console, reaching to hold you; Kamui doesn't hesitate to kiss you back with the same intensityโ€” tongue tasting his favorite drink on yours, the smell of your perfume, and the dizzying heat when he refuses the pull away, in spite of your little plan.
You squeak when Kamui gently pushes you onto the sofa, him breaking away to find your saliva strung together on both of your lips. The game plays in the background, forgotten as Kamui straddles you. Looking back at his glinting eyes, you seem to miss this in your equation.
โ€œReally, [Y/N]?โ€
โ€œY-you didn't have to- I-I thought you'd-โ€
โ€œTsk, tsk,โ€ Kamui laughs, thumb caressing your swollen lips, โ€œ[Y/N], you already knew I'd let you win. I guess you'll be getting your present early, then~โ€
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หš เผ˜โ™ก โ‹†๏ฝกหšCamu: Crocotta
Kissing Camu is like snow on the beach.
So rare, so sudden. It's the rumble of the vending machine of some unknown brand, dropping a new kind of food. Was it edible?
โ€œSo they really did put up these things.โ€
It's the low sound of Camu's husky voice surprising you on a random sunny afternoon. You quickly pick up the food, presenting it in front of him, โ€œDo you mean this?โ€
Camu takes the food from your hand. It's a cake in a can, you presume, as it is written boldly on the cover. Squinting his eyes, Camu effortlessly tears off the lid without the use of the safety pin. At this point, such a scenario no longer surprises you.
โ€œA cake in the can?โ€
โ€œA cake in the can.โ€ Camu affirms, giving it back to you, โ€œIt was a staple for the Japanese vending machines back in the Golden Age.โ€
The little treat (although forced open) seemed cute. Using the spoon provided, you took a few bites. Immediately, a yummy flavor pours into your mouth, making you squeal with joy. You quickly taste more.
โ€œMmh! It's so sweet~!โ€
โ€œYeah, they're usually really sweet.โ€
Taking a large spoonful, you hold it out to Camu. โ€œWould you like some?โ€
Hesitant. Camu looks at you, somehow judging you (do you usually hold out food to random people?), yet cautiously leans down to your height. His eyes never leave yours as he takes a bite, even until he gulps it down. Your eyes twinkle as you notice your joy reflected in his, signaling the sweet taste of the dessert.
โ€œWhat do you think?โ€
โ€œ...it is very sweet.โ€
โ€œI really want to eat more of this~โ€ you grin, โ€œlet me order-โ€
Camu holds your shoulder, causing you to stop. When you turned to look back at him, focused dark eyes looked at you.
โ€œWait.โ€
Camu leans forward, his face inches away from yours. As you feel your temperature grow higher, you only notice Camu's thumb caress the corner of your mouth.
โ€œ...you had a bit of cream there.โ€
Did you only notice Camu's handsomeness just now? Or was it because of the close proximity? His breath is cool on your lips, pretty dark eyes devoid of any harshness that he usually portrays, yet the subtle softness of his features somehow made him look more handsome up close. It makes you want to kiss him.
โ€œI'm sorry?โ€
Snapping out of your reverie, you blink at him, โ€œHuh?โ€
โ€œYou said you wanted to kiss me.โ€
Crap. You and your thoughts! You groan, trying to mask your reddening embarrassment, โ€œAh, Camu, I'm so sorry, I didn't-โ€
But Camu closes the gap anyways. It catches you off guard at first, but his kiss is cool and warm at the same time, almost felt like bathing in the sea amidst the snow. You taste the sweet cake on his lips, the smell of peppermint invading your senses. It is only a short while, ending as fast as it started. When he pulls away, you find dark eyes reflecting your emotion: curiosity.
โ€œ...ah-!โ€
โ€œTechnically, we indirectly kissed already.โ€
Camu points at the spoon, realization dawning on you. You squeak, trying to assess more of the situation. But Camu, with a small smile on his lips despite the deepening blush on his cheeks, coughs, โ€œ...I guess it's time for me to ask you out later during the Valentine's event, then.โ€
You were about to ask what the deal was about, until your mind whirred back to his initial words.
โ€œI thought you don't like Valentine's?โ€
โ€œI don't like Valentines.โ€ He said.
โ€œSo why...?โ€
Camu, turning away from you, before looking back with a smile on his face, โ€œI like you, obviously.โ€
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หš เผ˜โ™ก โ‹†๏ฝกหšWatanabe: Epitaph
Kissing Watanabe is always a surprise.
It's when you least expected it. From the sudden kisses in front of children, to meet ups in the warehouse, and even in random times of the day. Watanabe would always keep surprising you, you almost think it's a routine at this point (God Bless your heart; hopefully his antics won't kill you before your fated day).
However, lately, it's almost not happening.
โ€œHello, [Y/N],โ€ your lover greets you as he passes by, opting to continue talking to the man beside him. You retract your expectant hands.
โ€œWatch out, [Y/N].โ€ Watanabe calmly catches you by your hips, when a child nearly hits you with the ball. You wanted to reach out, but he was already walking away.
โ€œI'll be taking that.โ€ And gone was the playful kiss on your shoulder, instead, it was a smile on his lips as he took the supplies and left you in the dark. What the hell was going on?
On a random evening, he started to avoid you on purpose.
โ€œWatanabe!โ€ You cried out as you watched him disappear from the sea of people.
It was the nth time of you trying to track him down that day. Tired from running around, you slump against the wall, tears filling your eyes. Your tears began to escape your eyes as the atmosphere around you, despite it being Valentine's, was full of love and laughter.
What did you do wrong? Watanabe is your lover, one you've long promised to be with forever. But what was forever if he no longer looked at your way?
โ€œMiss [Y/N]?โ€
Sniffling away your tears, you looked up to see one of the Forsaken soldiers. โ€œY-yes?โ€
โ€œ...are you alright?โ€
โ€œY-yes, yes,โ€ you were not, but you still stood up, facing the soldier, โ€œWhat do you need?โ€
โ€œCould you kindly come with me to the warehouse? I need someone to inspect the weapons before we head out tomorrow.โ€
Wordlessly, you follow the construct. Your mind swims in a hazy sea of doubts and self depreciation. Should you leave this place? Go back to Babylonia? You are still welcome there, last time you checked. But the people...
It didn't take a while before you both arrived at the destination. Stepping inside the dark warehouse, you failed to notice that the door behind you closed. As you ran to pry it open, from the corner of your eyes, you saw a lone light shine in the middle of the dark warehouse.
It's Watanabe.
All of your anger rushes to your brain. Your legs move quicker, however, sprinting to reach out to the estranged man.
โ€œYou selfish little-โ€
โ€œ[Y/N]-โ€
Anything Watanabe says is fast, but your reflexes are faster. You held onto his arms, your tears of anger flowing as you cried out.
โ€œWhat the hell is wrong with you?โ€
โ€œI know, I know-โ€
โ€œDo you know how sad and angry I am at you? For leaving me with no answers?โ€
Watanabe does not answer. He lets you speak.
โ€œWhy? What did I do wrong? Why are you ignoring me?โ€
โ€œI am aware, yes.โ€ He answers, sorrowful, โ€œI am sorry for treating you that way, [Y/N]. I know I shouldn't have done that, but my actions hurt you instead.โ€
โ€œThen why did you do it?โ€
Watanabe doesn't answer. Instead, he reaches out to cup your cheeks, genuine sadness reflecting in his expression.
โ€œI have been thinking. And I made up my mind.โ€
He caresses your cheeks with such reverence, it almost makes you melt. โ€œ...being away from you is so cruel. I wanted to make such a heavy decision, to leave you so you could be with another human, but I realized that I was just like youโ€” I would be angry, too.โ€
Watanabe leans down, your forehead touching, โ€œI want to be greedy for you, [Y/N]. Please, let me make it up to you.โ€
Suddenly, you were aware of the weight of your words from earlier. You weren't mad; you were devastated. Should this man, the love of your life, leave you, what becomes of you, then?
โ€œWatanabe...โ€
You tug on his collar, whispering, โ€œDon't go. Kiss me, please.โ€
Kissing Watanabe really is a surprise. It's fulfilling, in a way that completes you like a puzzle, his warm lips on yours. You love him just as much as he loves you, perhaps moreโ€” it's agonizing, it's too much, yet you crave for him; he is all you have. When he reluctantly pulls away, he whispers your name.
The lights of the warehouse turn on. And behind him, a dazzling display of flowers and pictures are shown.
โ€œWhat-โ€
โ€œI know it's not much, unlike the luxuries in Babylonia,โ€ Watanabe kneels down, the glittering stone on the engraved jewelry in his hand, โ€œBut this is all from every corner of my heart; I love you, my [Y/N]. Please accept my proposal.โ€
You couldn't hold your tears anymoreโ€” from anger, they turned into immense joy. The answer has long been spoken.
โ€œMarry me, my [Y/N].โ€
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หš เผ˜โ™ก โ‹†๏ฝกหšNoan: Arca
Kissing Noan is sweet.
Little kisses and noises of joy as you take breaks in between your book reading. It's his warm hand on top of yours, the other busy flipping through the pages. Noan's voice is a soothing lullaby, a gentle lull as he reads the passages for you.
โ€œIt's quite ironic,โ€ Noan breaks away from the book, putting it aside as he brushes away the hair covering your face, โ€œI thought you wanted me to read to you.โ€
There you were, comfortably laying on his lap, watching him with tired eyes. Slightly pouting, you weakly tugged on his scarf, โ€œNoan, why did you stop...โ€
โ€œMy lap isn't very comfortable to sleep in. Let's move you back to your base.โ€
โ€œNooo,โ€ you stubbornly shook your head, trying not to let Noan stand, โ€œFinish reading the book, please? You're almost at the exciting part...โ€
Sighing, Noan picks up the book. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, one of the books that caught Noan's attention. Driven by your immense curiosity and how Noan was itching to read the story, judging by its summary, you thought it was a nice idea to let him read to you. It's hitting two birds with one stone!
โ€œI don't get how you're so interested in the book,โ€ Noan asks, flipping back to the page where he left, โ€œYou're already falling asleep.โ€
You don't have the heart to tell him you've already read it while you were still in the F.O.S. โ€œWell, I think the concept is neat.โ€
โ€œThe concept of a man who has the body parts of dead people off killing people just to appease his creator?โ€
You shrugged, โ€œI mean...โ€
Noan laughs, fingers idly drifting and drawing circles on your cheek, โ€œJust tell me that you're just doing this because you think that I'm interested in it.โ€
โ€œAre you not?โ€ You turned to catch brown eyes looking at you with mirth.
โ€œIn a way, yeah.โ€
You pondered for a bit, trying to remember the contents of the book. Lifting your hand to cup Noan's cheeks, you huffed, โ€œY'know, you remind me a bit of the monster.โ€
Quickly catching yourself with your words (to which Noan laughs), โ€œI mean, minus the killing. Wait, no, I mean-โ€
โ€œOkay, okay, something related to that?โ€
โ€œYes, that.โ€ You grinned, โ€œthe monster wasn't supposed to mean any harm. He simply wanted the attention and love from his creator.โ€
Your lover, in a way, was similar to the monster of the book. Rebuilt and revived, nearly as a killing machine. But does a killing machine have to look this beautiful in the hazy afternoon glow? Noan's lips parted for a bit, before pursing them. Lifting your head, you snuck in a short kiss on the corner of his mouth.
โ€œYou're similar yet different from the monster, Noan.โ€ You murmured, closing your eyes as you inhaled his smell, โ€œThus strangely are our souls constructed, and by slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity and ruin.โ€
Noan chuckles, lightly squeezing your cheeks, โ€œand you tell me you've never read the book before-โ€
โ€œI didn't disagree, didn't I?โ€
โ€œHmm...โ€
โ€œNoan,โ€ you whispered, โ€œUnlike Frankenstein's story, you are never feared, nor despised.โ€
You kissed Noan. It's sweetโ€” the taste of the cookies you gave, the herbal tea; his lips that were made to kiss yours, to fit; and Noan, who went through too much, was yours to protect forevermore.
โ€œYou are loved, even more than your creator.โ€
When you pull away, deep red tinted his cheeks and ears, which made you laugh. โ€œWell, Noan?โ€
โ€œMm...I should stop reading the book since you already know-โ€
โ€œKeep going, please?โ€ You purred, โ€œI like you reading to me.โ€
โ€œ...mh, fine, you're lucky I like you.โ€
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หš เผ˜โ™ก โ‹†๏ฝกหšRoland: Flambeau
Kissing Roland is, well, comedic.
He's laughing; the crescendo plays a melodic tune, as he plays his role. Your lover is a clown at this point, laughing manically with every step he takes.
But you love him anyway. You love your clown.
โ€œRoland, dear,โ€ you giggle, โ€œRemind me again what's my role?โ€
He pauses, before approaching you. โ€œMi amor,โ€ Roland reaches out to your hand, kissing it, โ€œYou are the lead of this play!โ€
As he continues to play his role, you are sitting in front of him, on a fancy chair. For Valentine's, you half-expected Roland to join the theatre, however, he was here in front of youโ€” with only you as the audience and apparently the lead as well.
โ€œWhat do I do?โ€
โ€œSit prettily there,โ€ Roland winks, โ€œThat's your role.โ€
โ€œAlright. Do I still get compensated?โ€
โ€œHush, the climax of this story is now nearly in full bloom.โ€
With a crisp spin, Roland turns to face you, the spotlight hitting every nice angle he had. In his hand, a single, beautifully blooming rose.
โ€œMi amor, my love, my light,โ€ Roland began his monologue, โ€œThough it has been a very long journey and story, here we are, still alive.โ€
Ah, you realized this scene now. The first proper confession.
Roland walks to you, despite his clownish appearance, he genuinely had a sweet smile on his face. โ€œDamned by those who defy our circumstances; from this day forward, I am yours, as much as you are mine.โ€
He looks at you, with gentle hands holding your cheek, โ€œWhat do you say, mi amor?โ€
In the original story, you ran away out of fear. But you were in a new scenario with him now. Smiling, you dragged him to you with his shirt, โ€œHmm, sounds missing.โ€
You wink at Roland, โ€œAh, I know now.โ€
Without a warning, you closed the gap in between your lips. Roland eases into you easily; grasping at hands, responding to your move. It's still soft, his lips that make you dream of oceans and theatre playsโ€” it makes you want more.
But Roland pulls away, chuckling, โ€œWell, that certainly wasn't part of the script.โ€
โ€œYou kept missing the cues,โ€ you stuck your tongue out, โ€œI merely filled in the gaps.โ€
โ€œThat's my girl,โ€ Roland praises, โ€œMy perfect muse, my perfect actress.โ€
Comedic, in a way that it's the perfect timing. You leaned further to kiss him more.
โ€œMm, I still have a few ideas you can add to your script.โ€
Roland's hand in your hips tightened, mirroring your smile, โ€œDo tell, we should execute it afterwards.โ€
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หš เผ˜โ™ก โ‹†๏ฝกหšNoctis: Indomitus
Kissing Noctis is wild.
In how he holds you effortlessly in one hand. You grasp where your hands could reach, but you could only breathe in. In how Noctis's voice sends shivers. A melody that echoes so long.
His lips are begging to be with you. It's almost painful.
โ€œ[Y/N], [Y/N],โ€ Noctis whines, โ€œPlease, let me touch you.โ€
โ€œWe are in a public area, Noctis,โ€ you whisper, aware of his creeping fingers on your pants, โ€œMmh, it's not just me...โ€
Your lover was supposed to be a grown man, but who knew his neediness could make him such a needy child?
โ€œPlease, please, I promise it won't take long,โ€ He groaned as his fingers rubbed your thighs, โ€œI'll be very quick.โ€
Sighing, you try to look around you. Making sure that no one else could see, you pulled Noctis closer, lips mere inches away from one another.
โ€œBe quick, okay?โ€
And you trust Noctis. Kissing him is wildโ€” as if asking to be breathed back to life, he kisses you with such fervor. Never minding touchy hands, it's so hot that you unconsciously opened the buttons on your shirt. Noctis loves hard and harder, the beating of his heart a testament. His tongue on yours, hands everywhere else.
โ€œThank you,โ€ he cries out, making you throb, โ€œI owe you so much...โ€
โ€œHow about pushing it past my limits today, Noctis?โ€
Without a word, Noctis slips into you for one more stolen kiss. โ€œYou have my word, then, [Y/N].โ€
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Writing this half asleep HAHAHAHAHSHSHA
โ€” starry
149 notes ยท View notes
starryficsfinishwen ยท 8 months
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โœงใ€‚โ—Ÿแด‡ษดแด„สœแด€ษดแด›แด‡แด… โ€” chrome x reader [PGR] [Happy Activation Day Chrome!!]
please don't be in love with someone else
a.n. - sometimes chrome just raghhhhhh. HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHROMEE!! I promise to finish that other fic for you LOL also thank you for being one of my resilient lil construct, my Lucia and Wanshi are happy to be with you <3 mwa mwa (IM SORRY AGAIN IM LATE)
pairing - chrome x f!commandant
words - 7,881 (it's why I took long TvT)
tags/warnings - none. fluff! alcohol is involved yet again! chrome x reader shenanigans. yall up to what happens in the end uwu. non-sexual naked cuddling. cute stuff for chrome because happy activation day!!
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The stars seemed to have blessed Babylonia tonight.
A crowded room. A brightly lit, dazzling chandelier. Wine and champagne glasses clinking together. Orchestral music filling the room โ€” this is a sight that those who can afford luxury would generally see in their life. High society placed itself on top of the pedestal, overlooking its body that wore no gold.
Forget the war that raged outside; Babylonia beheld the grandeur of the rich folk for tonight, and the stars had rewarded their presence by granting the brightest evening for them.
Such sight is normal to a Smith. After all, they were always born with a silver spoon, to feed and to be fed by high society, for everyone to see.
But not for Chrome. He always thought this life was never fit for him.
There he is โ€” champagne in hand, forcing laughter and faking smiles to those who are around him. Humanoid legs are already used to the wages of war, yet they trembled under the hours of talking to people that only blur in his M.I.N.D.
He is only here due to his father, Mr. Smith. โ€œFor you to be familiar with the people you will work with in the future,โ€ he always said to Chrome, โ€œbe on your best attitude. Show them the makings of a true Smith.โ€
But they only bore him. He would rather be doing things that are mundane in the eyes of high society, such as lounging in the comforts of Strike Hawk's dormitory; dealing with Kamui's antics, helping Wanshi fix his sleeping pod, tasting Camu's dishes...or cleaning the corners of his room, or strolling the walkways of Babylonia, or playing chess with a certain someone...
A scene flashed in his memory โ€” a warm hand reaching out to him, a sweet smile, a soft laugh, and the chessboard with scattered chess pieces in front of him. A scene that happened not too long ago, a memory so fresh that made him flush a light shade of pink. Was it the alcohol? No, usual alcohol would never make a construct drunk, unless...?
โ€œHow are you holding up, Chrome?โ€ A familiar voice called out to him.
Mr. Smith. Holding an identical champagne glass in his hand, he looks up to Chrome with an expectant gaze. Chrome straightens, clearing his throat. โ€œMr. Smith, I am doing well. I have met the people you told me earlier.โ€
โ€œGlad to know,โ€ He nods, โ€œit's beneficial as a Smith to meet your future prospects. You know that already, Chrome, don't you?โ€
โ€œI do, Mr. Smith,โ€ Chrome solemnly spoke.
โ€œOther than that, have you seen the Commandants who are invited tonight?โ€ Smith tsked, โ€œthey have commendable records. They seem to enjoy tonight's feast before they go back to war once more. Especially Gray Raven's Commandant, hm.โ€
Chrome's ears perked up. โ€œGray Raven's Commandant is here tonight?โ€
He knew the party was for high society, with some specially invited commandants. Yet, Gray Raven's Commandant? He overlooked that part, why didn't he know?
โ€œYes, it's understandable due to the glory they have brought to Babylonia countless times now.โ€ Smith paused, moving his hand to make a circular motion with his glass, โ€œI've seen them earlier. Now, they are nowhere to be found.โ€
โ€œAh,โ€ Chrome slightly faltered, muttering, โ€œa shame.โ€
โ€œThey also seem to blend well with us, I'd say.โ€ Smith hums, taking a sip from his glass now, โ€œthey look well with us, even. We should try asking them to join when they retire.โ€
A particular thought crosses in Chrome's M.I.N.D. โ€” a person wearing a simple dress amongst the crowd yet so vibrant, the same warm hand he saw as she held onto his arm, smiling fondly at him. The very thought that somehow made his heart crumble in a good way โ€”
โ€œChrome?โ€ Smith asked, causing Chrome to snap back to reality, โ€œare you alright? You look red.โ€
โ€œI do?โ€ Chrome muttered, โ€œI'm sorry. There must be something wrong with my cooling system after I got injured last battle. I am planning to get a maintenance check once more.โ€
โ€œAlright then,โ€ waving his hand, Smith nodded, โ€œI'll leave you be. I need to meet with other people.โ€
โ€œThank you, Mr. Smith.โ€ Chrome approaches the nearby table tp place his glass, โ€œI will return soon.โ€
Finally, away from the party, Chrome found himself lingering outside. The garden outside of the hall seems to be the answer to his dilemma, the cool breeze and the artificial night decorated with the authentic stars sparkling above him. He breathes into this sight โ€” once more, a thought that popped into his M.I.N.D.
โ€œThe sight may be beautiful in Babylonia,โ€ your voice sent shivers down his spine, โ€œbut the ones here on Earth are prettier.โ€
Bright irises staring at him with a gentle gaze amongst the dark plains, a genuine smile on your lips, โ€œdon't you think so, Chrome?โ€
The memory shook Chrome, his heartbeat skipping. What was it with him lately? Thinking of a particular person that he holds with high regard? It seemed unlike him, the man who only thought of perfection. Battles and tactics are his expertise that makes up his thoughts, yet such stray memories and incredulous scenarios have distracted him since his recent rendezvous with that certain commandant...
His hands tremble. They seem lonely. A small part of him wishes those familiar hands would hold them right now.
Gray Raven's esteemed Commandant. The very thought of her makes Chrome weak. He who should maintain a professional, beneficial relationship with her. Yet, thoughts beyond that relationship seemed to have spawned in his M.I.N.D.
Chrome entertains that thought to no avail. After all, a small part of him wishes he should have seen or heard from you tonight.
โ€œTwinkle, twinkle, little star~โ€
Yes, something like a nursery rhyme that is sung by you. Sometimes, Chrome thinks you drove him insane to the point that he's having hallucinations of you.
โ€œ...how I wonder where you are~โ€
Wait. That voice seems closer and familiar. Surely, he wasn't dreaming. Chrome rushes to the source of the voice.
โ€œup above the world so high,โ€ the voice hiccupped, โ€œlike a diamond in the ska-ay~!โ€
Chrome thinks this sight is one of the best he's ever seen: sitting on the ledge of a fountain, gazing at the water beneath, your sky-blue dress nearly submerged yet you didn't look like she minded; in fact, in your hand was a glass of unfinished wine, and your face seemed too pleased with your antics, a contagious smile written on your face.
Gray Raven Commandant in the flesh. And drunk. (According to Chrome's readings anyway)
โ€œCommandant!โ€ Chrome's voice - shaking? - echoed throughout the garden, making you look, โ€œOver here! What are you doing?โ€
You finally look at Chrome, your usual bright eyes laced with tiredness and mirth. Upon recognizing the figure that was approaching you, you cheerfully raised your glass to him.
โ€œHello stranger!!โ€ your shoulders shake with visible joy, โ€œyou're hereeee, come on, come on! Join me in watching the fishies~โ€
Stranger? Perhaps the alcohol fogged your senses. โ€œFishies?โ€ Curious, Chrome follows where your hand points, to the fountain...devoid of any fish, โ€œI...see?โ€
Instead of fish, Chrome could recognize that the 'fish' the Commandant referred to are the coins that people must have thrown into the fountain. The reflection brought by the moonlight highlighted with the pattern underneath the fountain must have tricked you into thinking she was talking to fishes. Not wanting to break your delight, Chrome plays along.
โ€œI named that lil' blue fish Lee, because he looks grumpy.โ€ You giggle as you point to a blue-shaded coin, โ€œthen that pink one is Liv!โ€
โ€œThat's cute, Commandant,โ€ Chrome chuckles, opting to sit at a considerable distance from you, โ€œwho else did you name?โ€
Lights over the garden seemed ethereal. Haloed with the gentle glow of the skies, the white noise of the party inside the hall, and the mellow laughter of the Commandant โ€” Chrome could easily capture this memory for a lifetime, although you couldn't recognize him. He could try taking away the glass in hand and tell you that you're drunk, but he does not. Instead, he asks more about the 'fishes' you found. And somehow, you went silent.
โ€œCommandant?โ€ Chrome gently pokes the silent Commandant, โ€œare you alright?โ€
โ€œMmm,โ€ closing your eyes, you tapped your chin, โ€œstranger, I can't see Chrome...โ€
The nickname seems to grow on him now. โ€œWell,โ€ he shrugged, โ€œmaybe he's sleeping.โ€
โ€œFishies never sleep!โ€ opening your eyes just to stare at Chrome, โ€œthat's basic knowledge!โ€
Chrome could finally see you properly: the dress snugly fit you, the train already submerged in the water. Some strands of your hair framed your face perfectly. Alcohol flushed your cheeks in the shade of pink. Irises that still lit brightly amidst the dark, a sight Chrome could never forget. Blinking to come back to reality, Chrome reached out to brush away the strand that was on your lips.
โ€œSome fishes sleep with their eyes open.โ€ Chrome smiled, โ€œbut what you said is still, it's true, Commandant is always smart.โ€
A smug smirk flashed on your lips, arms crossed to assert her amusement, โ€œhm! I told you!โ€
One of the sleeves fell to your arm as you moved. Flickering to that, Chrome spoke before reaching out to lift it, โ€œYes, of course. Commandant, are you not cold?โ€
โ€œNope!โ€ Somehow filled with a new burst of energy, you drunkenly placed the glass in front of Chrome, making Chrome reel back, before struggling to stand up on the ledge with the heels on. Chrome acts quickly, aiding you by holding your legs for support. โ€œI realized something!โ€
โ€œCommandant! What are you doing, get down!โ€
โ€œI need to find Chrome!โ€ you spoke with such reverence, it could make Chrome cry, yet it only made him scared, โ€œhe could be drowning!โ€
Drowning? โ€œCommandant, I know you're smart,โ€ Chrome hesitates, before speaking, โ€œbut fishes don't dro-โ€
โ€œ-I know what I'm doing!โ€ you grin at him, rotating your arm as if exercising and exhales, โ€œthat's why I'm going to save him from this ocean!โ€
At that moment, Chrome realizes where he went wrong. โ€œWait, Commandant, no!โ€
At least he tried to stop her.
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A shivering Commandant is wrapped in Chrome's coat for tonight.
โ€œAre you alright, Commandant?โ€ Chrome spoke as he ran through the streets, โ€œdo you still feel cold?โ€
After the stupid attempt at jumping head-first into the water, Chrome had to save you - even after trying to get away from his hold. Now, you were tightly wrapped in Chrome's coat, carried like a princess in his arms.
Sneezing, you shook your head furiously, โ€œI'm fine, you stranger! Why did you stop me?โ€
โ€œThe waters in Babylonia in the evening get colder. I don't want you to suffer from hypothermia.โ€
You whine, before sneezing once more. โ€œI was fine! Oh well, I managed to get Chrome though.โ€
โ€œYou managed to- what?โ€
Fishing out of his hold and the coat, you childishly held out a white and blue-tinted coin. Chrome could only sigh in disbelief.
โ€œAlso, put me down, you stranger!โ€ Attempting to wiggle out, you whine more as Chrome tightens his hold on you, the familiar way illuminated by the lights already in sight, โ€œmy mama said not to trust strangers!โ€
โ€œRight,โ€ Chrome laughed, his heart skipping a beat, โ€œdon't worry, I'm taking you to Chrome right now.โ€
Halfway through the run, you drifted off to sleep (and it granted Chrome the opportunity to see you comfortable with your guard down). Finally, they arrived in front of the Smith Estate.
Carefully opening the door, Chrome is met with a comforting silence. Were the cleaning robots still around? He knew his father wouldn't be around until the next day, which meant the robots were the only company. Stepping inside, he finds the place deserted, the faint sound of the Commadant's breathing filling the room. Placing you (not minding the water dripping off of you) to his room on his bed, Chrome rushes to the kitchen.
Still no robots around. Easy to explain and less hassle to explain why a stranger was in his bed. He'll worry about that the next day. Quickly, he grabbed a few pieces of food from the fridge and concocted a hangover drink and water.
Upon returning to his room, Chrome finds you still asleep on his bed. Silently placing the items he brought for you, Chrome wistfully gazes at you.
โ€œyou're always taking care of me, Chrome,โ€ you'd say if you were awake, your voice echoes in his M.I.N.D., โ€œI want to return the favor.โ€ (You are now corrupting his thoughts.)
A little stir from you made Chrome snap out of his daydream. Slowly opening your eyes, looking around your surroundings in a daze, Chrome leans down to check on you.
โ€œCommandant,โ€ he softly calls out to you, hand touching yours, โ€œare you awake? Can you sit up?โ€
โ€œMmmhm,โ€ rubbing your eyes as you sat up, Chrome aiding you, โ€œwhere am I...?โ€
โ€œYou're in my room. I will take you back to Gray Raven's headquarters when you've freshened up and rested. Come on, drink some water.โ€
Your legs dangle on the side of Chrome's bed as you sat up. Your figure, although shivering from the stunt, still seems smaller than him. Chrome reached out to grab the glass of water and hold it out for you, but you only stare at him.
โ€œCommandant?โ€
โ€œCh...โ€ you whisper, slowly lifting your cold hands to cup Chrome's cheeks, โ€œChrome...โ€
His heart flutters at the call of his name. With a free hand, he caresses the hold on his cheeks. โ€œCommandant?โ€
โ€œWhy are you...hot?โ€
Chrome's cheeks burn at your touch, he noticed. Was it really the cooling system, or that his growing fondness for the Commandant of another team making him like this?
โ€œThe cooling system,โ€ he chose the first option, โ€œI'm trying to get it checked, don't worry.โ€
โ€œMmh, Chrome...โ€
Your innocent, sleepy eyes were looking at him. And you were leaning closer to him. A human instinct, Chrome leans forward as well, until their foreheads touch.
โ€œ...Chrome. Why don't you call me by my name?โ€
It feels expensive. It feels surreal. He wanted to tell her, but the words die in his throat.
โ€œI will only do so, if you wanted me to do it, Commandant.โ€
โ€œMmh.โ€ Your breath fans Chrome's own lips, further intensifying the heat in both of your cheeks. โ€œThen, Chrome...โ€
He closes his eyes. Closer, closer...until you pulled away so abruptly. And then, a warm liquid spilled across his chest.
Chrome's eyes opened. Sometimes, the timings are uncanny.
โ€”
A bathtub full of bubbles, lavender dousing the room with its intoxicating smell. Near the bathtub, Chrome sweats nervously as he stares at the guilty figure sitting on the toilet.
โ€œI'm sorry,โ€ the Commandant, who was usually strong and courageous in the face of danger, shrunk in guilt, voice timid and remorse, โ€œI didn't mean to puke in front of you.โ€
โ€œIt's alright, it's not your fault,โ€ he dismisses it, smiling slightly, โ€œI was planning to get you changed...โ€
He is already wearing a new set of clothing, compared to you. After that quick nap, you seem sober. But based on Chrome's readings, you are still far from being sober. At least, you recognize him now. Squeaking, you shook your head. โ€œI can't just let it slide. Is there anything I can do for Chrome?โ€
Kneeling on one knee, Chrome awkwardly pats you. โ€œIt's okay, really. Um...โ€
A reddening blush was on Chrome's cheeks as the words died in his throat. He motions to your soiled clothes, clearing his throat in an attempt to gather his pride.
โ€œCommandant, I am going to...โ€ whispering, โ€œ...I'm going to take off your clothes so you can...um, take a bath.โ€
You stare at him. Blinking tired eyes at him, you slowly nodded. โ€œOkay.โ€
You turn your back on him, presenting the zipper on your back. For you, it seemed normal (Liv and Lucia are always hands-on whenever you are invited to events like this, so they're seen what's behind those clothes). But Chrome, whose ventilation was now out of place from the possible outcomes running through his head, was shaking and turning into a blushing tomato.
โ€œYou can unzip me, Chrome,โ€ you pipped, noticing Chrome's silence, โ€œI can't reach the top.โ€
A shaky exhale from Chrome. He mutters something you couldn't hear, but could feel the small pressure from his hand holding your hair to the side before resting on your shoulder.
โ€œI will...start unzipping you, Commandant.โ€
It feels...intimate. The way Chrome held onto the zipper with care, thoughts running wild in his M.I.N.D., dragging it down slowly. You notice it, despite the alcohol fogging your thoughts. The sound of Chrome's nervous breathing, the water dripping from the faucet, the bubbles on the tub โ€” it almost makes you sober.
However, a question seemed to linger on your lips. But before you could ask, Chrome had already unzipped your dress, the sleeves finally down on your shoulders.
โ€œI-I'm done, Commandant.โ€
You turned to Chrome, a smile on your lips, โ€œThank you! But...are you...okay...?โ€
โ€œYes.โ€
You weren't that convinced. In front of you, Chrome's hands shook, and his face was in the deepest shade of red. You tilted your head to the side, before shimmying out of your clothes. Yes, still in front of the man who has been nothing but an angel to you.
โ€œI'm done!โ€ You excitedly quipped, standing up, causing the dress to fall to the floor. โ€œwhere am I going next?โ€
Seemingly snapping out of his trance, Chrome looks down to pick up your clothes and dashes to the door. He stops by the door frame, his back facing you. โ€œI need to put your clothes in the washer. They'll be ready after you take a bath.โ€
โ€œChrome, will-โ€
But he was already out of the door.
Chrome remembers every part of the laundry process, even without help from the robots. Yet, even though he has loaded up the washing machine (he knows it'll be done in at least 2 hours, clean and fragrant), his hands are still shaking, the memory in the bathroom turning his mind into a haze.
Even when he closed his eyes after he unzipped your dress, or when he heard it drop to the floor, he couldn't help but imagine โ€” how your skin must feel under his touch, soft or smooth; the expanse of your back, would there be goosebumps like when you touch him; would there still be a smile on your face even when you would know about his feelings?
He accidentally slams the door of the washing machine too hard. It's all pointless, really; all he wanted was to show how eager his rapt attention, yet terrified that he may have crossed unwanted boundaries. Maybe he needed some rest. That's right - it has been a long week anyways. Sighing, he leaves to go back to the bathroom, in case you fell back to sleep...
โ€” except, he called it too early.
โ€œChroooome,โ€ you cried out as you whimpered in the tub, bubbles covering everywhere but your face, โ€œI'm drowning!โ€
Suffice to say, he wasn't going to be relaxed tonight.
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The water was warm.
And so was the hand that you wish you held onto as you dangled your arm on the ledge of the tub, reaching out to Chrome, who sat on the floor. You wanted something - but the golden boy wouldn't budge.
โ€œJoin meee,โ€ you pouted, โ€œdon't you see I am a lonely girl sitting here so lonely?โ€
The light of the bathroom casts a glow over Chrome's frame. The sound of the water splashing around, paired with his humming, sends your mind in a close lullaby, you fear you'll only fall asleep at this rate.
โ€œI see you well, Commandant.โ€ He shook his head, โ€œhowever, I will stay here.โ€
โ€œMean.โ€ Huffing, you sunk to the comforts of the bubbling water, feigning annoyance to him โ€œAt least I could wash your hair...you said you'd allow me to see you with your hair down...โ€
โ€œCommandant,โ€ it's a surprise how Chrome could still hold his composure, voice calm and cool, โ€œyou are drunk. You are also very dirty, so it's best you wash up now and get dressed in something warm.โ€
โ€œI'm not drunk!โ€ Exasperatedly raising your hands, you glared at Chrome, โ€œand I can't wash my hair...โ€
You look at him expectantly, to which he stares back with curiosity. Pointing to your wet hair, you whispered. โ€œI always wondered what it's like to have my hair washed.โ€
โ€œAnd?โ€
โ€œWill you...wash my hair, please, Chrome?โ€
Crossing his arms, he thinks for a moment. โ€œWill you promise not to do anything stupid?โ€
โ€œNo.โ€
As he scoots closer to you, you reeled back. Chrome mistook it as something else, when he sees the look on your face.
โ€œ...don't tell me you are planning to wash my hair in that.โ€
โ€œPardon?โ€
โ€œStrip!โ€ you pouted, โ€œI get fussy when someone isn't touching me.โ€
In an instant, you see Chrome's cheeks tint a shade of pink. โ€œCommandant, that sounded...โ€
โ€œHurry up,โ€ you yawned, scooting a little closer to the faucet on your legs, โ€œI won't look.โ€
True to your word, you look elsewhere but wherever Chrome was. Raising your hands high to your face (look how pruned they are, the longer you stay), before the shuffling of clothes and the sound of cautiousness tiptoes its way into the water, beside you. From your peripheral vision, you see two hands reach out to hold your open hands โ€” have these hands looked so lonely until Chrome came?
โ€œLook at you,โ€ he huffs, fingers caressing the pad of your pruned fingers, โ€œyou should have been faster.โ€
You find comfort in this cramped space โ€” the warm water that you're doused in, a familiar body close to yours, a heat that you never realized you've been craving all this time. You crawl; on Chrome's legs, your scent intertwined with the smell of lavender, you hope it rubs on the man beside you. Unknowingly, you crawled further, until your back hits the sturdy structure of Chrome's physique, leaning back to curl up in his chest.
โ€œCan we stay like this?โ€ the words slipped past your mouth, faster than you could have noticed. Without a word, his hands drifted to the expanse of your shoulders, your arms, your clavicle.
His hands rest there, as your body relaxes in his embrace. The subtle, erratic beating of his heart is there, it's not a surprise when yours mirrored his. And you smell the hint of vanilla on his skin, forgetting that he's humanoid in these very small moments. Yet, you breathe into it, the smell lulling you to sleep faster.
โ€œIf you want to,โ€ he mutters, โ€œI thought you wanted to rest.โ€
โ€œI do, but I feel comfortable when there's someone else.โ€
The quiet snap of the shampoo bottle opens. Along the way, he places his hands over your head, gently massaging the tips of your hair to make the shampoo bubble, to your scalp. Gentle, soft as he held you like this. The way he pours the water over your head, careful enough to not let it reach your eyes. You must smell like lavender now; the scent already sinking into your skin, like how Chrome's warmth was seeping onto your cold ones. His touch felt unreal, it makes you want the world to freeze for a moment and only behold this scenario for a long, long time.
โ€œCommandant,โ€ even his voice was a whisper, movements slowing to a stop, a telltale sign that he's done, and a little emotion was hanging on your chest - annoyance - โ€œfinish up washing now. Your hair is done.โ€
A dissatisfied grunt escaped your lips. Sitting up straight, you turned to him, hands outstretched. โ€œLet me wash your hair too.โ€
Slightly looking down from your chest, his eyes shot up to meet yours, the blush that was on his cheeks already invading his ears. โ€œN-No. This bath is only for you, Commandant.โ€
โ€œPleaseeee,โ€ you dawdled, brushing away the bangs that covered his face, โ€œI want to help you.โ€
Although hesitant, he lets you anyway; you, crawling to straddle his thighs, reaching out for the shampoo on your right. His eyes were carefully trailing your movement, which made you shrink under his grasp, but you never minded (after all, the both of you are naked in front of each other, what else was the difference?). You mimicked his movements: massaging the scalp, entirely focused on how you moved your hands on him.
โ€œYou're so pretty, Chrome...โ€
โ€œHuh...?โ€
โ€œI'm drunk but you're still pretty.โ€ you giggled, booping his nose, โ€œin the morning, when I'm sober, I know you'll be prettier.โ€
You thread your hands into his hair now, forgetting that bubbles should come out, but you're too focused on everything around you, drowsiness coming to catch you.
โ€œYour hair,โ€ you mumbled, aware of his hands placed on your waist, โ€œ...it feels really soft.โ€
โ€œDoes it?โ€ He chuckled, eyes closing, โ€œI'm glad you think so, Commandant.โ€
Commandant. A title you've always worn, but the way he called you that, a gnawing feeling crammed in your chest โ€” with that pretty mouth of his, a stray thought made you think: what would it be like if he were to say your name?
โ€œYou never call me by my name.โ€
Turquoise irises locked with yours. Unable to pull away, mesmerized by the magnitude it beheld as you stared at each other โ€” you wanted to speak, but Chrome beats you to it.
โ€œI- I never thought I'm allowed to say it.โ€ Looking away, the flush you've seen earlier came back and dusted his cheeks, โ€œwe never established it before.โ€
โ€œCall me by my name then, Chrome.โ€
You wonder how your name would sound when it leaves his lips. You wonder, if the sound of your heartbeat reverberates if speaks, if he calls you in a name hidden behind your title โ€” and for a moment, you've realized.
โ€œ[Y/N],โ€ it is quiet, a soft tone calling for your name, โ€œ[Y/N],โ€
All you could do is close your eyes. Your mind is racing. The sound of two people, breathing in the silence, in the warmth of another's presence. The bubbles are now dissolving in your fingers and in his hair, you're certain the ones on your head are gone too. Were you still drunk, or had the intensity of your feelings reached its threshold? It made your mind spin, and your fingers tremble. What was going on?
โ€œDid that sound weird?โ€ You opened your eyes to find Chrome's worried gaze. Still realizing the situation you're both in - and yet you were both comfortable now - you opened your mouth, only to close it.
You realized you've always liked Chrome all this time.
And the way he said your name is far from what you've imagined. You breathe in once more at his appearance: disheveled hair coated in shampoo, flushed cheeks in contrast to his pale complexion, doe-eyed in the shade of the light. Of course, you had to fall for this man. And it made your heart ache - alcohol or the touches alone? Who knows.
โ€œNo.โ€ You quietly spoke, looking away, hiding the blush on your cheeks, โ€œI...want to get out now.โ€
Chrome doesn't say a word. Instead, he stood up and left you there - confused, in a daze. When he comes back, a pair of clothes were on his arms.
โ€œCan you stand, co...I mean, [Y/N]?โ€
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โ€œThank you for the clothes.โ€
You spoke by the time you re-entered his room, the oversized shirt hanging loosely on your body. You looked at your appearance in the mirror twice before leaving the room, where you'd deemed it was good enough, however; judging by the way Chrome was staring at you intensely, head to toe, you couldn't help but wonder - is something wrong?
Chrome must have changed the sheets first, the shade of blue occupying the space on the bed. He now stood behind a smaller stool, a hair dryer in hand. You awkwardly stood, gesturing to the sight behind you: โ€œI promise I'll repay you back when I get back.โ€
โ€œThe shirt,โ€ He looks away for a moment, before clearing his throat, โ€œit looks...good on you.โ€
You looked down โ€” the oversized white shirt with the print fading away reaching down your thighs, just above your knees. At least, you were wearing something to combat the cold, yet your back catches the wetness of your hair, which made your temperature drop further. Noticing this, Chrome motions you to sit on the stool.
You are compliant with his wishes. He starts to turn the hair dryer on, before carefully handling your hair. In front of you was a tall mirror, which must have been Chrome's height. As he gently starts to dry your hair, you take in your surroundings - it's your first time in Chrome's room. As they say, the bedroom reflects its owner; tidy, neat, and everything in place. Various books with small print on the spine you couldn't make out on the shelves, the Queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. A perfectly neat study table with a few papers here and there near the dresser of the bed. It brings you to shame, how cleanly Chrome sets up his room which is far different from yours.
It reflects; your senses in a daze as you feel Chrome weaving through your locks, attentive to how his turquoise irises are on his masterpiece. Your eyes look up at his face once more.
โ€œYou also look good with your hair down.โ€
His attention flickers back to you. It's true - he looks more human this way, hair framing his face. Blinking slowly, he sheepishly laughs. โ€œAh, I always have my hair down after a shower. Do I look weird?โ€
โ€œNo.โ€ You admit, โ€œyou look handsome still.โ€
Another wave of silence washes over. You realize you're more sober this way, the guilt of not talking too much gnawing on the back of your throat. But you are thankful, Chrome takes the opportunity.
โ€œYou are wearing my shirt that the F.O.S. gave,โ€ humming, he brushes away the hair on your back, heat radiating off on your back, โ€œthey gave it shortly after graduation. I took it before father could notice.โ€
The hair dryer shuts off. He places it on the dresser, eyes still on your now-dried hair. You asked, โ€œdoes your father not want you wearing these things?โ€
โ€œHe thinks it's useless. After all, medals and honor are the only valuable things the college would give to you.โ€
โ€œBut I see that it seems well-used,โ€ you smell the cologne Chrome uses every day, โ€œlike you've always worn it.โ€
His hand is on your shoulder, tracing the outline. โ€œShortly after my Construct surgery, I always wore this. Anywhere as long as my father wouldn't see.โ€
A thought where Chrome wears the shirt comes to mind, in bed, clutching the fabric. Holding a handful and raising it to your nose, you spoke, โ€œis there a reason?โ€
But he only sighs. โ€œI am a Construct.โ€ He looks up to meet your eyes in the mirror, โ€œI am made for war. I threw away my humanity a long time ago.โ€
Those words tugged a hidden emotion in you. Spinning to meet his figure, you craned your neck just so you can properly look at him. Words are bubbling in your mouth, but it comes out dry.
Yet, you try anyway. โ€œIt's true that you're made for war, but you shouldn't be denied of these...โ€
โ€œIt's alright, co...[Y/N].โ€ The call of your name sends your heart into somersaults, โ€œI've learned it the hard way. There is no need for me to feel that way anymore.โ€
โ€œBesides,โ€ he added, as he got on one knee, smiling, โ€œit's time for you to take a nap. It's past 2 am now. I wouldn't want my Commandant to be sleep deprived, yes?โ€
โ€œI-โ€ you looked at Chrome, you don't pretend you didn't mishear his words. Looking at his irises, you took a deep breath.
โ€œThe first time I saw Chrome,โ€ you began, โ€œI always thought you were attractive.โ€
That caught his attention. Tilting his head with an eyebrow raised, he curiously asked, โ€œI'm sorry?โ€
โ€œI wondered why a human like me was roaming around the city ruins that day.โ€ You fidgeted with the hem of your clothes, โ€œBut then, I saw your inver-device.โ€
Ah, this memory. Chrome remembers it fondly. In the heat of dispute, where Lee had been injured badly, he doesn't remember if it was the situation at hand or the way the sunlight shone down on you that day - either way, he always thought it was something for that moment.
โ€œIt didn't change one bit of my impression of you.โ€ You take a deep breath, โ€œI think...it became something else.โ€
Your heart beats chaotically. You're sure it's the alcohol, but you're also aware that it's your feelings shaping at this very moment. Your hands tremble with want - to hold Chrome, to hold his hand.
โ€œSomething else?โ€
โ€œI don't see you as a Construct, Chrome,โ€ you whispered, reaching out to touch his chin, eyes trailing where your finger touched, โ€œI see you more than that.โ€
You're aware; his gaze on you, as his own fingers shake as they touched yours. Such feelings have echoed in your mind, and you are afraid they wouldn't go away unless you tell them upfront. Are you scared to be rejected? Too bad, you're not; let the alcohol drain all your fears tonight.
โ€œI don't want you to keep calling me 'Commandant'. I don't like it when you see me as someone from F.O.S., but I like it when you touch me, or when you're close to me-โ€
His hand is holding yours now. Firm, gentle. He's in front of you, and you swore you could see the future reflect in his irises. It's warm, the way he grasped your hand, fingertips touching his lips. His eyes are closed - a single kiss on every finger, mouth muttering some kind of prayer.
โ€œ[Y/N],โ€ he whispers on your fingers, gazing at you with an expression you've never seen him make before.
Loving. Adoration. Something along those lines. It claws on your stomach, inching up to the top, that if you opened your mouth you would regret.
โ€œWhen I saw you at that time, I didn't know what to think. I remember thinking: would you only be another soldier I will see on the battlefield, regardless if dead or alive?โ€
โ€œAm I the former?โ€
โ€œA part of me thought so. But...โ€
He pauses, before taking your hand to his chest, a strong vibration echoing there. Your heart feels the same, it wishes to free itself from the cages of your ribcage and into whatever was in the middle of the both of you.
โ€œIf I were to lose you, I...wouldn't know what I'll do.โ€
Heaviness weaves in your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck for support, blissfully unaware of the distance left between your lips. โ€œChrome,โ€
โ€œ[Y/N], I cannot...โ€
โ€œI like you, Chrome.โ€ It is a genuine confession. You never lied. โ€œI like you too much, that I feel like my heart can't handle it if you disappear on me, too.โ€
A confession that brought tears to your eyes. โ€œI want to run away with Chrome. I don't want to be away from you.โ€
โ€œI'm not going away.โ€ He took you by the waist, propping you on his thighs, โ€œI'm here.โ€
โ€œMeeting you...being here with you...it feels enchanting.โ€ You closed your eyes, blindingly touching wherever your hands meet, โ€œPlease don't be in love with someone else...โ€
Chrome feels like it's the first time for him to recognize the ability to love. The passion for studying, living in the moment where examinations take place, keeping everything orderly โ€” it has always been how he always lived. Yet, for the first time โ€” someone was here in his room, in his touch, in this space. It makes him greedy; it makes him wild.
โ€œ[Y/N],โ€ his hands cup your cheek, nuzzling your cheek, โ€œI feel the same way. I like you - I adore you. Every glory I will bring to you, it will be all for you.โ€
That confession triggered something inside of you - to bridge the gap between the both of you. Leaning forward, the urge to slam your lips to him right there and then grows fervently. However, a hand stops your advances. Pulling back, you are met with a blushing Chrome, looking at you in awe.
โ€œComman- I mean, [Y/N], as much as I want to kiss you...I cannot. I can't kiss you when you are still drunk.โ€
โ€œBut I want to, let me show you how much I like you.โ€
His hand easily slips under your shirt, warm ones grasping your hips, rubbing circles around it, โ€œIn the morning. When you are sober, when you are about to make better judgement. I will let you do whatever you want.โ€
A mischievous smile graced your lips. โ€œAnything?โ€
The blush on his face became a darker shade. Shyly nodding, โ€œYes, anything.โ€
He eases into his arms. Lifting you up and carrying you to bed, a thought crosses your mind โ€” you, in a long white gown, and him, in a silver tuxedo. You see him in the lights of the room, illuminated in this dark evening, his smile sending ripples of your heart into motion. You see him this way, your hand carrying a bouquet of flowers that you both love, your fingers intertwined with a ring of promise. In your thoughts he carries you like this, and you swore it felt familiar; one day, you wish. You would have to tell him in the morning.
But for now, the alcohol hits you harder more than ever, drowsiness threatening to shut your eyes. As you felt yourself dip into the mattress - his bed - you wish you could stay with him, the lingering warmth on your skin now fading as you feel him pull away. But your mouth is a jumbled mess, only opting for the fatigue to succumb to you. So, you use your hand, grasping whatever you could reach - his shirt, his hand, his arm.
โ€œDon't go.โ€ You beg, voice laced with grogginess and want, โ€œwon't you stay here?โ€
โ€œI will be sitting here next to you. Don't worry, I'm not going away.โ€
โ€œNo,โ€ your voice sounds like you're pleading now, โ€œdon't go, stay beside me. I want you to be beside me when I wake up.โ€
โ€œ[Y/N]...โ€
โ€œStay with me, Chrome.โ€
With a sigh, you feel the space beside you dip. The shuffling of sheets, the smell of lavender invading your weary senses. At last, warm hands enclose yours, before placing them close to his lips, one last kiss before darkness consumed your senses.
โ€œGoodnight, [Y/N],โ€ you knew he'd tell you that, โ€œI will see you in the morning.โ€
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Chrome doesn't see you in the morning.
When sunlight slipped through the windows, he woke up to an empty space beside him. Disappointment comes knocking on his door, calling out that he was only dreaming for something unreal, something that only humans would indulge in. Although the sheets prove that someone else was here with him last night, he doesn't dwell on that slipping hope. Instead, disappointment and frustration, paired with despondency, makes a home inside his chest and his M.I.N.D.
No longer interested in ruminating on the mattress, he drags himself out of bed. However, the robots that usually greet him aren't around still. But the floors and the walls on the rooms he passed are cleaner than what he saw last night.
Probably elsewhere. Probably at the garden.
But the glass door to the garden shows no signs of robots, at least where his sight can reach. No robots cutting grass or cleaning the pool. At times like these, they should've been around. Where were they?
A sound of an R5 cleaning robot chimes in nearby. Chrome follows the sound, and the sight isn't something he was expecting.
โ€œYou did well,โ€ your voice feels like a cloud, floating amongst the sea of beeping robots, โ€œthank you for your help.โ€
Your back faces Chrome. Crouching in front of a faceless R5 cleaning robot, you gently patted its "head", small giggles on your lips.
โ€œYou're a good robot, aren't you,โ€ the sound of beeping seemingly mirroring an appreciative noise, โ€œyou're a very good robot.โ€
A sizzle comes out of the oven, to which you jump to your feet, scrambling to reach the stove. โ€œAh, it's getting burned!โ€
Chrome couldn't help but admire you; the way you move, your interactions with the robots although lifeless, and your cautiousness seemed to boost his adoration for you. It must have been his M.I.N.D., but the sunlight on your toes, his shirt that fits you perfectly despite being too big for you, and the smile as you tasted whatever you were cooking โ€” it hits him harder. The want, the like, the adoration for someone he could never think he'd fall for. The feeling that his chest had earlier disappeared; only warmth began to repair its fractured roots.
โ€œChrome?โ€ Your quiet voice called out, the beep of the robot chiming in, โ€œyou're awake.โ€
โ€œAnd you're here.โ€
Is this what pining feels like? An unspoken feeling that settles deep between the distances of the two of you. He knows he shouldn't hope, when a night drowned in alcohol remembers nothing. Yet, the way your eyes seem to tell him something, he hopes to cling onto whatever was left in his pride.
โ€œGood morning,โ€ he spoke, aware of his morning voice now, โ€œI apologize that you had to be the one to cook.โ€
โ€œN-no, it's alright! The robots mostly did the work. I merely supported them.โ€
โ€œStill,โ€ he slowly approached you, timid footsteps leading to you, โ€œthe fact that you treat them as if they're human too speaks a lot.โ€
โ€œIt's even a surprise that they show no hostility to you. They are trained to fend off those who are unfamiliar in the household.โ€
โ€œCommandant [Y/N] is welcomed.โ€ the robot from earlier chirped, โ€œhelped us with housework.โ€
โ€œMr. Smith also invited me here once in a while to talk about politics.โ€ You shrugged, opting to pat the robot once more, โ€œI just did a favor for them.โ€
You nodded to it, to which it purrs in your touch. Satisfied, it happily trots away, probably deciding to work elsewhere.
Another silence. You've decided to go back and finish cooking the food, but the fire had long been doused (probably from the advancement of this stove?). Chrome wants to talk, yet no words could be formulated in his head. After the agonizing long silence, you took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.
โ€œI remember what happened last night.โ€
Chrome freezes. He looks up to meet your guilty eyes looking elsewhere. โ€œYou do?โ€
โ€œI...am regretful that I puked on you. That's why I decided to clean up here as an exchange.โ€
Ah, so you don't remember what happened afterwards. Chrome's heart sinks, before noticing you looking away, and a creeping blush on your cheeks.
โ€œI...also remember that I asked you to take a bath with me.โ€
Memories of last night came crashing over his M.I.N.D. The garden, the bed, the bathtub, the hair dryer, and your skin โ€” all a mixture of things that only makes him go haywire. His blush mirrors yours; that means one more thing.
โ€œI also remember telling you how I feel.โ€ You began, โ€œand I...โ€
The sinker comes. And Chrome's heartbeat isn't sure now. But you - you approached him, eyes down, figure covered, but reaching out to him. With shallow breaths, you raised your hand to his chest, before looking up. And there - your eyes meet his. Same innocent, shimmering eyes looking at him with vigor, with enchantment; he forgets how to breathe.
โ€œI like you, Chrome.โ€
You've said it once more. Sober, genuine, and true. And it breaks Chrome's heart into pieces, folded and mashed into dough, before it forms in the shape of a heart. You've set the oven now; his feelings are ready to be baked, ready to be eaten - and he wants you. No, he needs you to be the one to take it.
โ€œI still like you, even when I'm drunk or sober. I want to be with you all the time. I want you, Chrome. I want you to be part of the future that I am building.โ€
Wordlessly, he captures your hips and pulls you close, him leaning down just so the proximity knows no bounds. He feels your breath ghost his lips, your heartbeat in his ribcage - it beats, and beats, and beats so loudly he forgets you're in the kitchen at daylight; in a house he's grown up with no love, but he's here now. Creating a love that no Smith can forge.
โ€œA concrete object made of materials and information, whose borders are continuously constructed and reconstructed,โ€ said the definition for 'Smith'. He could live in that definition forever, but what about Chrome?
โ€œI am forging a new one.โ€ He whispers, โ€œI am...bridging the new future with you.โ€
Your eyes are shining, and there he knew-
โ€œI like you, too, [Y/N].โ€
If only bodies were capable of seeing what's happening underneath, a cadenza ringing in Chrome's heart, beating furiously for you, only you. You smiled, a mischievous gaze written across your face.
โ€œDoes the offer about me doing anything I want when I'm sober still stand?โ€
He smiles back. โ€œOf course.โ€
โ€œI want to kiss you.โ€
Tiptoeing to reach Chrome's height, you craned your neck and tugged his shoulder. But Chrome is kind; he hoists you up by the hips, capturing your lips in an instant.
Sweet is a word to describe the first kiss Chrome shared with someone in his life. Forget the war, forget that you're on the kitchen island; it's only two lovers baring their adoration for one another, sharing a kiss blessed in daylight. It's warm, it's soft, it's needy - the way you both melt into each other, how you wrapped your arms around his neck, or how his hands are holding you up. Enchanted, Chrome's M.I.N.D. echoes, it's really enchanting.
Satiated, you both pull away, breathless, as your foreheads touch. He doesn't let you go, though. You (unfortunately) do, when the other kitchen door opens, a parade of little robots bursting through the door.
You cheer as the little robots go through the surprise: a small banner written "Happy Birthday!" hastily, and the cake you baked earlier with the robots. Chrome looks at you confused, before noticing what the parade had brought.
โ€œHow-โ€
โ€œHappy birthday, Chrome,โ€ You beamed, hands cupping his cheeks, โ€œyou deserve the celebration.โ€
โ€œThank you.โ€ He whispers on your chin, leaving little kisses there, โ€œI really appreciate this...I appreciate you.โ€
โ€œYou should enjoy today.โ€ You winked, โ€œmy birthday present to you is for later.โ€
โ€œLater?โ€
You squeezed his arm. He blushes. โ€œYes, later.โ€
Chrome is thankful his heart doesn't need to somersault out of his chest now. At least, until later.
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HAPPY LATE ACTIVATION DAY CHROME!!!!!! please like, reblog, share, comment down on this post! don't copy and plagiarize my work!!
132 notes ยท View notes
starryficsfinishwen ยท 1 year
Text
[Slight NSFW] love me harder โ‹„ chrome one-shot
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heaven sent you to me
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a.n. // just chrome. and this artwork plus love me harder by ari and the weeknd just gave me โœจinspirationโœจ and I promised other PGR character stories but don't worry! will post it very soon mwehehe
pairing // chrome glory x f!commandant reader
c.w. // sexual tension kek. some fluff. in denial chrome. just chrome. reader is wearing a skirt. mutual pining ofc. guess some suggestive parts here too
words // 2,988
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For the first time in his life, Chrome was disoriented.
Core captain of Strike Hawk, "Smith" โ€” and many other titles that one could imagine in Babylonia. Chrome was a prodigy, a masterpiece carved to perfection; no problem that would pass him would ever escape his mind.
Yet, there was this one thought that somehow made all the titles he had rendered useless: you.
The esteemed and beloved commandant of Gray Raven. You were supposed to be nothing more but a colleague to him. But since all the missions that fate and the council had brought together...
A sudden banging sound reverberated along the four-cornered walls of Strike Hawk's dormitory, causing the occupants inside to jump in surprise.
โCaptain!โž Kamui's voice shook Chrome back to reality. Blinking a few times, he drifted to the large cracks of the table before him.
โAh,โž Chrome sighed, sinking back to his chair, โSorry, guys.โž
โCaptain, if the recent missions are bothering you, you should consider taking a break.โž Wanshi yawned, resting his chin on his propped palm, โyou seem to be out of place lately.โž
โWanshi's right, capt.!โž Kamui beamed as if a tail was wagging behind him.
โThat's also the fourth time this week.โž Camu snickers, causing Kamui to nudge him with a mumble.
โI know,โž Chrome sighs once more, running a hand over his hair, โI'll consider your suggestion, Wanshi. Thank you.โž
โI guess I'll talk to the commandant again today. I'm sure she wo-โž
Chrome shot up from the chair, attempting to stop Kamui from standing, โ-don't!โž
However, the hard force of Chrome's hand colliding with the table became the final blow to it falling apart, making Camu holler with a burst of loud laughter. Ridden with a creeping warmth to his cheeks and embarrassment, Chrome covered his face from the rest of the baffled Strike Hawk members.
Wanshi though had a curious expression on his face. โCaptain, do you not want to see the commandant?โž
โOf course, I do.โž Chrome spoke, still looking away, โI just. I wish not to disturb the commandant with such trivial matters like these. I can fix this.โž
Kamui, in an attempt to console the laughing Camu, spoke, โtrue, but I always talk to the commandant. In fact, she likes it when she keeps visiting here, y'know.โž
โStill,โž Chrome coughs, โthis is the least we can do for her. She doesn't have to be distracted by us again.โž
โHey, capt.,โž Wanshi pipes, โare you sure you don't want to disturb the commandant, or are you just looking for excuses to not see her?โž
Chrome looked up to see Wanshi's signature sleepy expression on his face. Disregarding the familiar warmth tingling his ears, he scoffed, โof course not. I'm not avoiding the commandant.โž
โThe other day, when we met the commandant by the hallway, you just passed her instead of waving back at her.โž Kamui nodded.
โand you also said you didn't want to see her face.โž Even Camu finally snapped out of his laughter.
โIt's not like that, you guys!โž Chrome exasperatedly sighed, โI was just busy thinking.โž
โEveryone here notices, captain. Even the commandant herself,โž Wanshi shrugs, โI think you should at least clear it up with her.โž
But alas, despite Chrome's smart brain, his pride was on another level.
โI can fix it myself.โž
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A master of weapons.
Yet, a jester in fixing things. Chrome feels like a clown, really. Bet a clown has a better life than him right now.
As Chrome puts down the chunk of wood on the table he tried to fix, he can't help but wonder once again. These few weeks were pent-up pressure โ€” especially after the confrontation with the agent. How the missions that made you closer to him, and the feelings he was not supposed to feel kept resurfacing, no matter how many times he's denied it. Were constructs supposed to feel this way? He tries to remember the directions and the basic functions of a construct. Yet, no notable data would pop up.
Was he really having feelings for you, or was his M.I.N.D. overloading?
Chrome was no stranger to these feelings. Other than the books he used to read back when he was human, he has always dreamed of having to love someone, too.
Perhaps it was time for him to call for Lee's help. Or Asimov's. Whichever was suitable for his situation. Yet, as if the universe heard his plea, there was a ring from the front door of their dormitory. Probably from the delivery, thought Chrome. Though, by the time he opens the door, the cold seemed to pool over his feet.
โChrome-?โž your equally confused and surprised expression mirrored his.
The world really had to play a game with him, huh? Despite the raging feeling his chest was digging in his chest, he stepped away to make room for you.
โCommandant,โž even trying to level his trembling voice, he tries to welcome you, โI'm...really sorry for disturbing you. You must have had a lot of things to do.โž
โNo, it's okay, Chrome.โž You assured, lightly laughing, โI'm not disturbed at all. It's a pleasure to be around you and the rest of the Strike Hawk members anyway...โž
Your gaze drifted to the scene behind you, before looking back at an expectant Chrome. โWanshi, Kamui, and Camu are not around?โž
โAh, they said they would be out to training. I guess you can say it'll just be the two of u-โž
Chrome promptly looks back at you, who had an eyebrow raised. Coughing, he looked away from you. โ-um, don't mind that. Please come inside, commandant.โž
Being the gentleman he is while trying not to be with you , he tries to make you settle well into the room. Serving snacks, giving you water โ€” anything just to keep you entertained.
All the time you tinkered around with the monitors, grateful for Chrome's hospitality, Chrome can't help but look at you. The expertise in everything โ€” despite him being at the same level as him. In fact, he felt more embarrassed though; a mere thing such as fixing a broken table was done by you instead of him.
Unfortunately, you're also now lounging in Chrome's room. Sitting so pretty on his bed, paying attention to your work; and he, admiring you.
โChrome,โž you coughed, finally catching his attention, โso, um. Kamui told me you've been occupied lately.โž
โYes, I have been. Fa- I mean, Mr. Smith has been keeping tabs on me, and I've decided to take on a lot of tasks to keep me busy.โž He sat opposite of you, careful not to somehow face you.
โBusy enough to not talk, I presume?โž The hint of sarcasm was somehow noticed by Chrome, who sighed in regret.
โI-I'm sorry, Commandant. It really just slipped my mind.โž Awkwardly scratching the back of his nape, he looks at you apologetically, โI'll try to notice you more.โž
โIt's not that I blame you, Chrome.โž You reached out to caress his hand, the Captain with his eyes wide open, โI'm just worried about you. I think you should ease on the tasks, hm? I think that should stop you from overworking yourself.โž
As you spoke ever so softly and calmly, Chrome, on the other hand, felt a wave of unwelcomed warmth crawling once more on his skin. A myriad of memories prior to switching to his Glory frame also began to replay in his M.I.N.D., making the heat rise to his cheeks.
โChrome?โž You asked, stepping forward to look closely at his reddening face, โare you alright? Are you overhea-โž
Before you could touch his face, a sudden jerk on the ground caused the both of you to lose balance โ€” and the both of you tumbling to the floor.
A shake occurred before the lights of the dormitory turned off, switching to the emergency red lights. Your vision fails to return as a cushion was smothered to your face, still not used to the dark.
โEmergency shutdown commenced.โž The automated voice blared through the speakers before Celica's voice comes up. โApologies for the sudden power interruption. We'll get it back shortly.โž
โChrome,โž you huffed, โyou alright?โž
There was no response. You tried looking up, and you were met with dimly glowing, shocked blue eyes. You, then, realize you were on top of the Captain. Chrome, even in the dark, had cheeks burning noticeably with the glow of his eyes.
Unknowingly, the grip you never knew was on your waist was gripping you tightly, โu-um...Commandant, are you alright?โž
โI am, what about you?โž
Chrome sucks in a breath. โI should...get you to bed.โž
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Chrome remembers how ethereal you were, even in the middle of the haze he was in.
It was a life-and-death situation: a scary, uncertain future if he were to undergo the switching of his new frame. Yet, you were there. How, despite his humanoid sense, your touch felt human. How, in the dim light of the operating table, your soft voice managed to calm him down. How, in the haze and the will of your support and care for him as you kept him in control in his M.I.N.D., greatly affected him in a good way. It was enough to keep him alive, it was enough to let him see another day with you.
Perhaps, that was the day he fell in love with someone โ€” you.
But you deserved someone better than him. Someone that was human. And that's what made Chrome hesitate.
The raging feelings that danced wildly in his chest felt like they wanted to break out as he held your hand. The both of you were sitting at the edge of his bed. You both tried to get out, but unfortunately, even the power source made the door unlockable. The only light source you had was the emergency lights and the glow of his eyes...and the heat of your hand radiating off of his own.
In the first few minutes, you've joked that you would have to use him in evening patrols. It did take a laugh out of him, but now you were both back to zero.
โI remember that you were scared of the dark.โž Chrome whispered. You nodded, faintly glad he remembered that trivial information.
โYeah. I hate that I can't see a thing.โž
โDo you still feel uncomfortable? I can brighten up my eyes for you.โž
โNo,โž you squeezed his hand, โI feel completely fine if you held me like this.โž
Though, you were even more uncomfortable with the awkward small talk and in-between silences. You wished nothing more than to make him talk more. And so, determined to make him break the silence, your own heartbeat started to beat loud as you mustered the courage to speak the very question you've been wanting to ask.
โChrome, can you please tell me the truth?โž you began, mouth trembling, โI think you've been ignoring me lately. Is something wrong?โž
And again, the Captain is silent. Sighing, you prod on, โI don't get if it's your professionalism, but it's not like we're not friends or something. Was it what I said last mission? Did I offend you?โž
โNo-โž he sighs, โ-it's nothing like that.โž
โYeah? Why are you really ignoring me, then?โž
โ...it's hard to explain.โž was all he said.
And it made you scoff. At first, you were letting the issue go because you respected his privacy. But now, even his initial reason wasn't that applicable; it seemed like lying.
And so, you let your mouth do all the thinking instead. โokay, fine. To be honest, I don't believe you. I mean, why though? I know Asimov has been keeping an eye on you and you're both keeping me out of the true reason.โž
โCommandant,โž if you hadn't listened to his voice. then you would have missed the slight growl he made as he spoke of your title.
โI'm right, isn't it? That Asimov is making you play a little game? That's why you're ignoring me?โž
To be honest, you seem to sound more like a brat at that point, but the bitter words seem to endlessly flow out of your mouth.
โHonestly, Chrome, that's just low. You may be not one of my constructs but I care for you, too. Asimov's little game won't try to-โž
โ-[Y/N].โž
The next time you blinked, you fell into the bed. Wrists gripped above your head and the ability to talk seemed to disappear as Chrome's face hovers above you, dangerously close.
โThis is why I'm ignoring you.โž
Even in the dark, your eyes were mesmerized by the heat of Chrome's glowing and hungry gaze. Your breath was held in the way he had your hands, and the growing weight between your legs as he settled nicely there.
โYou have no idea how much you've been driving me insane. Whenever our paths meet, you make me feel like this. Whenever you're so close to me, I want to keep you right here in my arms. When I see other people talking to you, I want to take you away from them so that you can only keep your attention to me.โž
A tiny gasp escaped your lips intertwined with his low groan as you felt the lingering touch of his other free hand on your thigh, skirt rising as he lets your legs wrap around his waist. Both of your breathing became labored โ€” the hand that was on your leg had his index now tracing the outline of your jaw, before settling on your bottom lip. His eyes were no longer on your own, instead, they were looking at your lips.
โYou make me want to do things to you like any human would want to do with someone they love.โž His voice was now a whisper, the heat on your cheeks rising, you feared he'd notice.
โLike what?โž You whispered back.
Without a word, his hand was trailing down from your face to the curves of your hips, before easing to rest on your exposed thigh. You breathed a gasp as his touch felt like fire trailing on the light marks his fingers left.
โYou make me want to touch you.โž He spoke, fingers now rising to trail on your hips, a delicate trace of aimless lines that tickled you, โyou make me think of things that aren't supposed to be thought of.โž
Now, his fingers are on your stomach, two of them mimicking footsteps as they danced on the surface of your exposed stomach. โYou make me want to feel you.โž
And now, his hand was back on your cheek, thoroughly cupping yours so gently. His eyes trailed back to your own. The breath you held was exhaled, in time for him to open his mouth.
โYou make me want to kiss you.โž
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For what it's worth, you've always liked Chrome. For as long as you can remember.
He was always kind to you, always a gentleman. There was never a time when he was never far from you, or from the times when you've been in trouble. Chrome was always there to save you, to be with you.
Even now, with the weight of him in between your hips, and the proximity of your faces that no breath could escape the both of you as your lips were aching to be touched. You wanted no more than for him to shove himself on your needy lips.
But here we are anyways: speechless. No words could escape your lips and no kiss would happen unless you would try to do something.
But Chrome must have noticed your uncertainty, as he quickly excused himself from your warmth (and frankly, you hated the unknowing cold). His cheeks and ears were of the brightest shade of pink you've ever seen, even in the dim light.
โC-Comandant.โž Chrome stuttered, looking anywhere but you, โI'm...I really am sorry. That was wrong of me to do that. I will let you stay in my bed, and I'll be by the other room.โž
Was he leaving again? Full of frustration, you sat up and yanked him by the cuffs of his uniform as hard as you can, making him turn to look at you. Forcing your strength to drag him to your seat, you successfully switched positions: him laying on the bed, and you, enclosing him by straddling his hips.
โWhy didn't you do those, then?โž You glared at him, โif you wanted to touch me, feel me, kiss me, or whatever โ€” why didn't you?โž
The surprise in Chrome's glowing eyes gave you a sense of pride. โI...I was never sure you would even like that.โž
โYou...โž the words died in your throat. His hands were now situated at the back of your thighs, squeezing them softly. โThen, you should have asked, you idiot.โž
โCommandant,โž his voice was now another whisper, โI'm not a human. What if I can't satisfy you as another human could?โž
This time, it was your turn to speak. Your hands wandered along the creases of his forehead, to the tip of his nose, the shape of his jaw โ€” the urge, the need to touch was growing impatiently in your stomach and drawing a haze in your head. Especially with his own hands encouranging you in your ministrations.
โChrome,โž you leaned, lips a hair's breadth away from touching his, โyou just need to love me harder, then.โž
In the next few touches and times, there was no other words to say โ€” only the language of unspoken love and longing for two people.
...except that the lights were finally back on.
โYo, captain! You never guess what kind of freaky stu- GAH?!โž
And alas, the poor soul of Kamui, who walked into a new territory, was scarred for life as he witnessed the sneak peek of his captain's private life.
At least, now โ€” for the first time in his life, Chrome understood.
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Please don't steal, copy & paste, or repost this elsewhere without credit from me!
extra a.n.: wasn't supposed to include the Kamui part but honestly, it seemed funny lmao
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starryficsfinishwen ยท 6 months
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โœง!ใ€‚โ—Ÿ[COMPLETED] kinktober 2023 masterlist
featuring: Punishing: Gray Raven and Genshin Impact men x fem!reader
[ week 1 ] ! โ€” into it
< october 1 to 7 >
PGR : { Chrome: Glory, Kamui: Tenebrion & Camu: Crocotta, Wanshi: Hypnos }
Genshin Impact : { Zhongli, Baizhu, Tighnari }
[ week 2 ] ! โ€” shameless
< october 8 to 14 >
PGR : { Roland: Flambeau, Von Negut: ??? }
Genshin Impact : { Alhaitham, Albedo, Ayato, Diluc }
[ week 3 ] ! โ€” confessions
< october 15 to 23 >
PGR : { Watanabe: Epitaph, Noan: Arca, Noctis: Indominus, Murray }
Genshin Impact : { Kazuha, Venti }
[ week 4 ] ! โ€” swim
< october 24 to 31 >
PGR : { Lee: Hyperreal, Male Shikkikan/Commandant }
Genshin Impact : { Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Lyney }
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a.n. - guess who's making this and participating instead of studying :D wish me luck guys. I'll try to update this when I am fweeeee. stay tuned!
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