Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It hurt.

Remembering.

Seeing all of it again.

Reminded.

Of what SHE did.

Everyone knew.

Everyone saw.

How weak I was.

How pathetic I was.

Sinclair sat at his inside Mephistopholes, reliving the mental rollercoast that had been the past few hours, everyone quiet, mostly from the loss and near death they experienced to Kromer, but few with respect and solemnity to Sinclair's personal past in this adventure, no doubt being a more scarring one.

Hong Lu is no doubt the only oblivious one in the bus, no doubt his unusual nature keeping him optimistic, while Don Quixote is asleep, curling up near Ishmael, who is trying to look annoyed, but secretly has her hand curled around Don's.

Yi Sang and Faust are talking, on the surface just seeming like friendly co-worker talk, but a burning passion underneath all the pleasantries.

Heathcliff is eating both his and Don's share of Chicken Kebabs, as he liked them and stole Don's before she could wake up and noticed there was some for her in the first place.

Gregor and Ryöshu were using the same lighter for their cigars, but nothing more was coming out of them, for Ryöshu was infuriated at her loss, while Gregor was smoking to calm himself down from the events of the day.

Despite Meursault acting indifferent to Sinclair's story, he was keeping a vigil-style silence in honor of him for the night, as if it would ease him overnight.

Outis is writing rigorous schedules for tomorrow morning, as she was left very unsatisfied with the team's performance against Kromer and wants Sinclair to get over himself and use his grief as a training regimen.

Rodion was eating her kebab, as a meat lover would, when she sees Sinclair's is untouched. Instead of following Heathcliff's greedy footprints, her maternal side comes out and she sits near him, with his kebab in her hand.

R: "Hey, Sinclair?"

Sinclair refocuses as he hears her voice and turns around to see her sitting near him, not expecting it, so he shrinks away.

R: "Sinclair?"

Sinclair finally realizes it's Rodion, so he slowly unthaws.

S: "Miss Rodion?"

R: "Oh you sweet child, how many times have I said to call me Rodya, love"

Sinclair flinches at the affectionate name, as if it reminded him of... someone.

Rodion notices and stops teasing, instead pulling him closer to her, trying to soothe him.

R: "Sinclair? I'm sorry for callin you love if that bothered you, can you tell me what's wrong?"

Rodion begins rubbing his back and slowly cupping his face, knowing that she may be treading difficult terrain due to his reaction.

S: "It's– been a while since... someone called me... love."

Sinclair begins trembling softly, and Rodion pushes his head to rest on her shoulder.

R: "Sinclair... would you like to tell me?"

Deep inside Sinclair's mind, a shattered memory returns, multiple of which Sinclair tried to forget, but seeing Kromer reactivated them.

The first night, after Kromer had obtained his basement key, she became abnormally attentive to him, in an obsessive way.

K: "Sinclair."

S: "Y...Yes, Kromer?"

K: "C'mere."

Sinclair walked over, and she pinned him against the wall, whispering in his ear.

K: "You're going to be my little experiment— I want to see how much I can force a gender reversal~"

Kromer snatched his pants off and sneered malevolantly before grinding against him and forcing herself on him.

The exact scene of what happened during that time was blurred out of Sinclair's memory, but he remembers the details of after...

Sinclair woke up, his pants torn, but still on, as Kromer saw him waking up and snickered.

K: "So weak... you passed out while I was having fun~ so pathetic of you Sinclair, I was planning on relishing your screams as I used a strap-on, but you withered and fell unconscious before I could even have the chance, so I finished you off then did you."

Sinclair gasps softly at this revelation, slowly realizing the sensation of his sore ass, and Kromer notices this, enjoying the horror entering his eyes.

K: "Even if you didn't feel it, you still feel appalled? We should do this more often... no, once a week... I'll force you. There is no escape from me, Sinclair"

That's all I remember.

Before seeing Rodion again...

R: "Rodya, sweetie..."

Sinclair looks up at her, scared at how she'll view him now that he confessed everything.

Rodion sees his expression, and slowly kisses his forehead, wanting to care for him.

R: "Sinclair... I'm sorry you had to go through that, but I'm here... I can take care of you... you don't have to be alone."

Sinclair looks up at her as he crawls on her lap and kisses her jaw back, too shy and embaressed for words.

R: "Ah‐ Sinclair..."

Rodion slowly burns a bright red, unused to such a caring kiss, even if it was on her jaw, as it had been a long time since she had felt a kiss at all, even more longer a sweet and pure kiss like the one Sinclair just gave her.

Sinclair sees her expression and slowly distances himself, thinking he scared her off.

S: "I... I'm sorry, Miss Rodion, I... I didn't... I wasn't thinking... I won't do it aga–"

R: "I'm not mad... I... did... you mean that...?"

S: "The kiss?"

R: "Y...yea–"

S: "I did mean it Rodya... sorr–"

Sinclair is cut off as Rodion pecks his lips softly and quickly, her lips plump and soft, a sign that she cares for her body often.

Rodion blushes as she pulls away, averting her gaze.

R: "Don't be sorry... I liked it a bit..."

Rodion spends more time around Sinclair before it is time for all the Sinners to retire to their respective rooms.

Rodion kisses Sinclair's hand before walking to her own room, her face still a red tinge.

Respectively, all the other Sinners begin to get up and walk (or in Don's case, being carried) to their own rooms with an exception to Faust and Ishmael, as Ishmael carries Don to her own room, and Faust quietly tails behind Yi Sang.

Sinclair walks to his own room, reliving every single one of the kisses he shared with Rodion.

Chapter Text

"Don~ wake up for me... will you~"

Don opens her eyes slowly, and feels cold, beginning to whimper softly and grope around helplessly until she finds the arm of her partner.

Don hadn't thought of herself attracted to the same gender, never once had she seen a female and been starstruck...

Until she met her.

She was beautiful and divine from the moment she layed her eyes on her, her mouth had opened and stayed open until that red-headed goddess looked at her, and she composed herself to try and appeal to her.

A few months passed, with many near-death and death experiences happening between them, until one day, they were in a mirror dungeon, and everyone else had died, leaving it just the two of them.

D: "Miss Ishmael! I have to ask of thee, what doth thou think of our chances of survival together?"

I: "I'm not sure Don, lets just focus on getting out of here and reaching a safe point firs-"

She looked beautiful again.

Like always.

A radiant and gorgeous face.

Ishmael saw the look in Don's face, and having been oogled at a couple of times, both by the crew she sailed with and by some enemies while she worked with Dante, she recognized the look as a yearning stare, however, it had a note of sincere infatuation and warmth.

I: "Don...?"

D: "Y...Yes Miss Ishmael?"

I: "Have you ever... swung the other side?"

Don's face grew bright red, flushed and embaressed at Ishmael's question.

D: "A...as in what... l...Lady Ishmael?"

Ishmael readies herself for an answer as she asks again, her voice and her demeanor more steady and controlled.

I: "I am asking you if you have ever found yourself attracted to the same gender, Quixote."

Don's breath leaves her, and her legs give out, making her crumple on the floor in embaressment and shame.

She slowly looked up, her eyes teary as she stares up at Ishmael's figure.

D: "I..."

Ishmael's eyes soften slightly, and she lifts Don's chin up softly, staring into her eyes.

I: "Tell me, please"

Don breaks fully, sobbing into Ishmael's hand, her tears coming down as her voice cracks and breaks.

D: "Lady... Ishmael... I am... obsessed and... infatuated with you... I care for you so so deeply... but I understand why you would reject a lass like me–"

Don freezes as Ishmael begins to softly groom her hair, petting her caringly.

I: "Was that a confession then?"

Don nods quietly, ready for a rejection.

I: "That's cute... just like this girl I see..."

Don's face flushes red before Ishmael gives her a soft peck on the cheek.

I: "I'll consider your... honesty and think about what you've told me..."

Ishmael bsgins to hold Don closer, and their hands intertwine as they slowly test the waters, both of them quickly finding out they enjoy each other, as if they were meant to be, before also discovering who was the more dominant one, a title Don was glad to give to Ishmael.

With the memory coming to Don, she curls against Ishmael's arm in the present on her bed, and Ishmael slowly begins to kiss Don.

The kisses are messy and full of raw passion as they make out, Don's arousal now visible as she squirms, wanting more contact.

I: "You ready for me, Miss Quixote~?"

Don nods helplessly, yanking her pants off and exposing herself to Ishmael.

I: "You shaved today?~... even better~"

Ishmael begins licking Don, while sticking in 2 fingers as Don grips the bedsheets, enjoying every moment.

Ishmael hears Don's moans turn into quiet whimpers as she feels her discharge all over her face

D: "Gaahn~ ohhnn~ maahhaah~"

I: "You feel like getting railed today, Don?"

D: "Yes... mommy...."

Ishmael turns bright red, knowing Don doesn't call her that unless she's deep in the mood, and Ishmael is willing to provide.

Ishmael pulls out a strap-on, and adjusts it, before slowly rubbing it against Don's quivering core, as she pushes down on Don, using a mating press style on her.

D: "Hnnaaihhh~"

Ishmael enters Don, hearing the squelches and the sounds of content and need coming from Don, and she slowly begins moving, rocking against Don softly and carefully, as despite Ishmael's dominant act, she cares deeply for Don and her enjoyment of their intimate moments together.

Ishmael caresses Don's head and whispers sweet nothings into her ear, melting Don's mental state into pure enjoyment and deliriousness, as Don commits to becoming a pure submissive girl for her love, even forgetting her usual formal speak.

D: "Mommy... please... use me as much as you need~ I won't ever get tired— don't ever stop using me~"

Ishmael begins bucking faster, sitting up and pulling Don on her lap before cuddlefucking her tightly, kissing her jaw and cheek as she slowly slips away from the rational part of sex and loses herself to the pure instinctual need and drive that she feels whenever she sees her girlfriend. A pure hunger making her want to devour her at any moment.

I: "Don~ you close?"

Don Quixote nods frantically, pressing back before Ishmael suddenly loses the last of her wits and pins Don on the mattress, and immediately beginning to rail her as Don screams in pleasure.

D: "AAANGHHH~ YES YES YES!!!!~ USE ME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!~ DON'T EVER STOP MOMMY~~~"

Ishmael pulls Don's head up before whispering a confession of love into her ear, causing Don to become undone and her to begin quivering.

As Don had already climaxed previously, she didn't have much discharge to offer this time around, leaking only a small bit as she moaned loudly, her legs quivering and her entire body trembling as she experienced her peak again and again.

Ishmael slowly pulls the strap outside of Don and off her body before cuddling with her beloved, holding her and making sure to finger the outside of her core to give her a small bit of stimulation for her not to feel completely wasted.

Don feels Ishmael's fingers and presses herself closer, before intertwining their legs and lazily scissoring with their girlfriend.

Ishmael slowly kisses Don as they both lazily grind against each other. Despite not having climaxed, Ishmael was still tuckered out by thrusting inside Don so much, as Don had a higher sex drive and needed more roughness and time to be satiated through physical means, while Ishmael was easier to make finish.

Slowly, Ishmael transitions from equal dominancy with Don to submissive, letting Don control their scissoring.

I: "Donny~

D: "Yes, love?"

I: "I'm close... can I cum?"

D: "Of course, baby~"

Don began scissoring faster, before seeing Ishmael shake softly, the only indication that she climaxed, as Ishmael's discharges were more reserved and quieter than Don's.

Don and Ishmael kisses each oher softly and weakly for a while, before dreams and sleep began eating at one another.

Both: "Baby?"

I: "You first."

D: "You first, baby.

I: "I love you sweetheart."

D: "I love you more, princess."

They slowly intertwined fingers before succumbing to sleep, their intimacy a sweet and delicious secret between them.