#cw bus crash

[chaotickori]

Karasuno's Second Fall - Ch 1:

Rating: T Warnings: Car/Bus Crashes, Major Character Death Word Count: 624 Summary: They had just won against Shiritorizawa, that was a peak in their lives, but everything goes down in flames. Now follow what happens with the crows when they fall once more. AO3 [Next Ch]

The bus buzzes with the excited energy of the volleyball team, but no one can judge them, they're floating on the high of beating the strongest team in the prefecture. Karasuno was ecstatic, they made the comeback they had been talking about, they were going to nationals. Hinata was practically bouncing out of his seat, talking animatedly with a sparkle in his eye “Did you see my spike, it went bam, then swoosh.” Tsukishima could feel a headache brewing behind his eyes, unable to sleep with all of the noise around him.

The tired middle blocker sits up in his seat, sending a lighthearted glare at his teammates, though mostly aiming it at the small spiker. “Are none of you idiots tired, we just played a full five-set game.” Daichi, hoping to placate the grumpy teen, held his hands up, negotiating with the rest of the team. “Tsukishima is right guys, we should try and use this time to restore some energy, so how about we settle down for a bit?” The captain then lays back in his own chair letting his eyes slide shut as he tries to catch some sleep. Soon the bus was quiet with only a small amount of noise coming from where Coach Ukai and Takeda were conversing at the front.

The bus was passing over a cliff overlooking the broad expanse of the ocean, the sun slowly setting into the horizon. A storm passes overhead drumming rain down on the bus, and slicking up the road. Coach Ukai sits in the driver's seat, a cigarette between his lips as he pays attention to the road. Takeda is in the passenger's seat, catching up on some sleep so that he can corral the team when they make it back. Everything is going smoothly, only an hour and a half left in the drive, then they would be back at the school.

Ukai stays concentrated as he drives, a bit wary of the wet conditions on the road. Everything in the bus is calm, the only noise being the light hum of the engine, and the distant rumbling of thunder after bright shocks of lightning. He takes the turn around the corner of the cliff slowly, and carefully, but that doesn’t change what is about to happen. He could see bright headlights coming straight for them, a truck swerving crazily, taking up the whole road.

There is nothing that he can do to stop the inevitable, he opens his mouth to yell out to the team, to try and warn them, but it’s too late. It was like time slowed down as the truck came in contact with the front of the bus. He felt as his body is thrown forward into the steering wheel, knocking the wind out of him, and causing his head to get light. All he could think is that these kids don’t deserve to go out like this. He has no worries about himself, his mind is only on the kids, even in what could be his final moments.

When time speeds up again the bus is mid-air, over the side of the railing, and heading down the cliff. The first impact of the bus on the cliff knocks him out cold. Noise fills the bus as people jolt awake as the bus free falls down the cliff, smashing against the rocks. There are screams, mixed in with the crunching of metal and crashing of glass. The bus hits one ridge particularly hard, a large crash overpowering any other noise, a blur of blonde and black flying out of the window. As the bus continues to descend the cliff at high speeds bodies are thrown out, and others are made unconscious due to the force.

[asclexe]

house em dee edit!!!! i haven’t edited in a while. so like. srry if its bad :3

clips retrieved from this video

this song

i used capcut 2 edit :3

[i-eat-worlds]

🔪👨‍⚕️🧽🪣🔫🧤 for the ask game

thanks for the ask, nonny!

set during Alex’s time undercover with Zorland

cw: medical whump, pain, gun shot injuries, medical abuse/neglect, nausea, needles, narcotic mention, graphic depiction of surgery w/o anesthesia, probable medical inaccuracies

Alex watched the lights of Zorland’s back room as she was unceremoniously dumped onto the cold metal exam table. Her leg was throbbing, icy-hot pain emanating from the bullet burrowed in her thigh. It must’ve been bad, since they’d taken her straight to medical instead of Zorland. The room cleared out, and she waited for the unforgiving touch of the healer’s hands as he strapped her down to the table.

It didn’t come. Instead, someone else she didn’t recognize stepped into the room.

Was this some new test? Zorland poking and prodding further to see if she would break? Only time would tell.

“Did they just fucking leave you here?” They asked incredulously, eyebrows furrowing. There was a tired sigh, and then the sound of a stretching latex.

A face appeared in her vision. “Can you tell me what happened, sweetheart?”

She laid there in silence for a moment, words caught in her throat. Normally, the healer didn’t ask questions.

“Shot. Left thigh,” she said, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.

“Anywhere else hurt?” They patted their hands down her body, feeling around for other injuries.

She shook her head, resisting the urge to flinch at all the little touches. It would be over soon.

“Great. I’m going to take a look at your leg now, hun.” There was a firm hand on her ankle, and then her pants started to be cut away.

It took everything she had in her to not rip her leg away from the healer’s hands. Just because they weren’t the usual guy didn’t mean they wouldn’t report every whimper and wail back to Zorland.

“Bleeding’s stopped,” they noted in a tone that was almost upbeat. “I’m going to look for an exit wound now.”

Alex grit her teeth as the healer’s hands slid closer to her inner thigh, trying to ignore the deep feeling of wrong that rolled through her gut. They quickly inspected her leg, and she did her best to not inch away.

“I’m gonna start an IV, and then I’ll sort your leg.” The smell of alcohol wipes burned the air. “Any allergies, sweetheart?”

“No.” Not that she knew off, anyway. Still, it was odd that she was even asking. The normal guy rarely gave her anything, with the occasional exception of saline.

“I’ve no controlled, but I’ll do what I can for the pain.” They sunk the needle into the top of her hand.

Pain medication. What a fantasy that was. Zorland, apparently, drew the line at illegally acquiring narcotics.

“I’m also going to give you an antiemetic. My powers tend to make people feel nauseated, so it’ll help.” After the explanation, the healer quickly pushed the meds and moved on.

A blanket was spread across the upper half of Alex’s body. It wasn’t thick, nor was it very soft, but it was something. The back room was always freezing, so it was still appreciated. They let Alex down four ibuprofen, and they also set a bucket by her head, “just in case.”

How nauseous did her powers make people?

There was an awkward lull of activity while the healer prepared for the procedure ahead, setting out their tools, scrubbing their hands, and sliding on a new pair of sterile gloves.

Alex did her best to keep still while the healer worked. For some reason, the lack of restraints was jarring. It wasn’t that she liked them, it just felt wrong for them to not be there. Her wrists felt too light, and the lack of pressure across her hips made it feel like she was going to float away.

The ibuprofen started to kick in, though it barely made a dent. “This is going to hurt, there’s no way around it,” the healer said, almost apologetically. “It’s alright if you scream. If you need a break, just let me know, yeah?” As they spoke, they gently used a sponge to wash the dried blood away, then swiped betadine around the wound.

Alex wasn’t stupid enough to fall for that particular trick. At least the guy was nice enough to give her the rod, but she’d probably be able to pull through without biting her tongue off. Probably.

“I’m going to have to remove the bullet before I can heal you.” They spread a drape over her leg. “It’s going to suck but you’re going to be okay.”

In preparation, she wrapped her hands around the sides of the table, trying to steady her breathing. She’d had worse. She’d had so much worse.

The healer made the first incision, dragging the scalpel along the edges of the wound to widen it. Alex grunted, face twisting in pain as she dug her fingernails into the metal. Two fingers plunged into the wound, scissoring it open.

She just wanted it to stop.

Cold metal forceps dug into the wound, searching for the bullet. Her leg twitched on the table, a useless attempt to throw the healer’s hands o of her. “We’re nearly done,” they said, but Alex couldn’t really hear them.

They pushed further, until they finally stopped. “Got it.” They said, yanking the bullet out of the wound and dropping it on the floor. “All that’s left is to heal it.”

Darkness glimmered in the corners of her vision. It would be all too easy to just let go.

Fire ared in her leg as the healer started to work. “You’re doing great, sweetheart,” they said as Alex’s flesh slowly started to knit itself back together. Bile burned the back of her throat, and she reached for the bucket.

“I gotcha, just a little bit longer,” they said, voice soft. The sentiment was nice, but it was overshadowed by the absolute agony that was tearing through her. Her vision was lled with stars and spots, and she didn’t ght them as they clouded over and pulled her under.

The emptiness was home.

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps @rainydaywhump @painful-pooch @rainbowsandwhumperflies

[jugheads-choni]

I’m sorry, I just HAVE to laugh 😭😂

[moonstruckme]

omg omg omg i can see it now, reader in the hospital hooked up to an ekg and emt!maurauders after dropping someone off sees her in the room and they go in to check on her and her pulse just skyrockets and sirius is like "oh are you still in shock?" and rem is like "...i don't think so" and then they all get so flustered and reader gets flustered and fluffffffff

Thanks for requesting!

part 1 | part 2

cw: hospital, head injury, broken ribs

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 979 words

Some of the whiplash you’d been warned about is setting in now. It’s been a few hours since the trio of unreasonably attractive paramedics had dropped you off at the hospital, and you’re stiff and sore all over. Even your knees have developed dark bruises, apparently from hitting the dashboard when you’d stopped suddenly. You don’t remember getting them. 

The other doctors and nurses who’d been assigned to your care have been nice and of course highly competent, but no one has been as kind or warm as the men who’d picked you up at the scene. Ridiculous as it is, you almost miss them. There’s nothing comforting about this place, and if you can’t have the familiarity of a loved one with you, you’d happily settle for the strangers’ compassion. 

The parade of hospital workers and concerned loved ones going past your room is endless, but you look up from your phone when someone stops abruptly in the doorway. 

Sirius lets out a quiet oof when he crashes into James from behind, Rem simply sidestepping the both of them before coming to a stop in front of your room. 

“Hey.” James grins at you. “It’s you, from the car crash.” 

“Hi.” You return his smile bashfully, and Rem gives James an exasperated look. 

“I’m sure she’d rather not be referred to as the girl from the car crash, James.” 

“Right.” James' smile goes somewhat sheepish. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. “Thanks for…uh, everything. Earlier.” 

“You’re very welcome,” Sirius drawls, recovering from his collision and sauntering into the room. He gives you a not-so-subtle look over. “Just doing our job, dollface.” 

The monitor connected to your finger starts beeping more rapidly, and the suave confidence saps from his expression. 

“Shit, are you still in shock?” 

It starts going faster. You’re pretty sure your face is getting red too. How much trouble would you be in if you just disconnected the thing? 

“I don’t…” Rem’s eyes narrow, a second before his eyebrows raise an inch. “I don’t think so.” 

Your gulp has to be audible. 

“Oh,” Sirius says, his brow unfurrowing. He looks at you, and a smile curves his lips. “Oh.” 

“Okay, the both of you fuck off.” James comes to your defense, striding over as if to forcibly remove Sirius from your beside. “Look what you’re doing to the poor girl! Remus, you didn’t have to give her away like that.” 

“Better than her still being in shock,” Rem—or Remus, apparently—points out. 

“It’s fine, darling,” James goes on with forced breeziness. He’s looking at you with such sweetness you’d almost believe his nonchalance if not for the quick way he blabbers on. “Honestly, it’s an unfair advantage for us that you’re the only one with a heart monitor on. Though I suppose I’m lucky I don’t have one on too, or we’d be making a pretty terrible symphony in here right now.” 

It takes you a second to catch his meaning, but by the time you do he’s blushing nearly as badly as you. 

He’s tossed himself under the bus just so you wouldn’t be down there by yourself. 

You don’t know what to say to that, but a quiet thanks slips past your lips unchecked, and for reasons you cannot figure James’ smile softens in response. 

“Anytime, love. So, what’re you still doing here?” He changes the subject hastily. “They keeping you for observation or something?” 

“No, I’m just waiting for my ride to get off work,” you explain. “What are you doing here?”

Sirius grins, leaning against the wall near your bed. “We work here, babe.” 

“No, I—I know that,” you laugh. It hurts your chest, and all three boys’ expressions tense with sympathy when something in your face must reveal it. “I meant, don’t you usually work in the ambulance?”

“We just dropped off another patient,” he says, so preparedly that you suspect he knew what you were really asking the first time. “Older guy, complaining of a stomach ache.” He winks. “No competition for you, sweetness.” 

Christ. You’d thought they were bad when they’d picked you up, but it’s worse when you can actually process what they’re saying and doing. 

“Is he okay?” you ask, ignoring Sirius’ last comment. 

James gives you another one of his soft smiles. “Yeah, he’s alright. We see him like three times a week, he’s always fretting about something. But how are you, sweetheart? They treating you alright in here?”

You shrug. “I’m fine. I have some broken ribs and a concussion, like you said earlier, but I’m just glad it wasn’t worse. And of course everyone has been very nice.” 

“Glad to hear it.” Remus’ voice seems soft compared to the other two, though he more matches your volume. He perches next to you on the bed, eyebrows scrunching just a little as he looks at the stitches on your forehead. “Mmm, that’s probably going to scar.” 

“I don’t mind,” you say honestly, a second before remembering his own scars. They tug a bit as his eyebrows flick upward again, and then his lips pull into a boyish, lopsided grin. 

The monitor goes off again, and you cover your face with your hands as Sirius cackles. 

“Sorry, lovely.” Remus’ voice sounds somewhat amused too as his hand lands on your shoulder, squeezing delicately. “We’ll get out of your hair so you can rest.” 

“Thank you,” you say into your hands, removing them only once his weight lifts from the bed. 

Sirius won’t stop laughing, not looking abashed even when Remus grabs him by the collar of his shirt and drags him along on his trajectory out of the room. 

“Get well,” James says, walking backwards to follow them and giving you a smile that seems to contain, impossibly, equal parts mirth and earnestness. “I’d say I hope to see you around here again, but best not, huh?”

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when they accidentally kissed their best friend.

CW: smoking in Jaemin's part.

Mark Lee

It was a very intimate moment between you and your best friend Mark. You were learning how to play a guitar, struggling to find the right chords while Mark just watch you in awe. You were always oblivious with your best friend's feelings for you even though he's very very obvious about it. Mark's stare trailed down to your lips, an absurd feeling of wanting to taste it. And as if he lets his intrusive thoughts win, he leans onto you but straightly towards the cheek. The love-struck Mark was surprised with his actions --- both of you actually. He apologizes immediately, telling you that he has no excuse to his actions while you just sat there looking like a blushing mess.

Huang Renjun

You were bored when you suggested that you and Renjun do a peppero game for the last stick. Thinking that it's just nothing, Renjun agreed. The game starts and slowly, the stick becomes short. You're getting closer to Renjun and as he bites, he can feel your lips brushed to his, making him lean back --- falling from the sofa that you two were sitting. You were surprised by the event but as soon as Renjun stands up, he apologizes quickly for kissing you! You assured him that it's nothing at all, but somehow was flustered by the thought that you two kissed. 

Lee Jeno

You and Jeno were late. So both of you are in a rush, running towards the bus station. Jeno reaches the bus station first, trying to catch his breathe when unknowingly you collided with him. He managed to catch you in his arms before you two fall on the ground. You immediately stood up, realizing that it was your fault that you tripped because your shoelaces are untied. You began apologizing, checking your dazed best friend if he had any scratches with him. But Jeno could only remember the cherry taste of your lips, wondering why you didn't noticed that you two kissed. He wonders whether he'll bring it up to you or not. 

Lee Donghyuck

You and Haechan were close. Way too close. But you two are in the club and the proximity is bound to be close. You're facing him, dancing like there's no tomorrow when someone bumped onto you, making you stumble upon your best friend. You both laugh as you stare at Haechan, and then the next thing you knew, his lips crashed onto yours. You remember how vivid the kiss was that when you brought it up to Haechan, he was clueless, too drunk to remember about it. Seeing how disappointed your expression was, your bestfriend tried his best to recall the events, especially when you two kissed. 

Na Jaemin

You and Jaemin are sitting outside the club. The dirty pavement of the street were comfortable enough for you and his drunk self, both giggling idiots trying to sober up by smoking. You leaned against him, letting the cold air freshen you up when you felt Jaemin's arms wrapping around you. The next thing you knew, his lips landed on the top of your head before leaning against it too. You broke out from his hold, seeing that both of you had a surprise on the look on their face. Jaemin began apologizing for kissing you if it bothered you and told you that he did because the moment was too intimate for him. That's when you knew that you have a lot to clarify with Jaemin once both of you are sober. 

Zhong Chenle

Chenle was yapping with something about basketball while you were just sitting there, nodding as he continues to talk. You were scrolling through your phone when you saw a funny meme that you know Chenle will laugh, so you turned your head towards him --- at the same time Chenle leans. His lips directly went to yours and to your surprise, you scrambled out of the sofa while Chenle laughs at the incident. You were blushing red due to embarrassment while Chenle's red from laughing too much, but as soon as he calms down, your best friend apologizes for the kiss even though both of you knew that it was an accident. 

Park Jisung

Jisung was staying over your place that he woke up late. So he was rushing over packing his things and putting on some clothes. It made you panic too that's why you helped him pack some of his things. And when all things are perfect, Jisung bids you goodbye but you were caught off-guard when his lips crashed onto yours. You are used to the kiss on the cheeks since it's a platonic thing for both of you. Before you could say anything, Jisung already left. You stood there frozen, but what you didn't know that the moment Jisung was just outside, he realized what he just did. He doesn't know what to do, whether to go back or catch his class. In the end, he knocks once more, telling you that he's sorry and then dashes away. 

[nina-ya]

A/N: I was at a concert and couldn't stop thinking about law as the bassist so I quite literally wrote these headcanons during the concert dfkjsjk so here have them I'm going to my cave and hiding now! Pairing: Bassist!Law x reader CW: NSFW MINORS DNI

Bassist!Law who always glances at you standing backstage, watching as he plays, knowing just what he has in store for you later. Eye contact lingering longer than necessary, a smirk on his lips as he imagines the things he’ll do to you once the show is over. He thrives on the way that your mere presence amps up his performance.

Bassist!Law who notices the way your eyes seem to flicker between his biceps and his hands constantly watching them move and flex as he plays, watching as the crowd erupts in cheers when he purposefully uses two of his fingers to grind circles into the neck of the bass guitar just to tease you further, bringing you closer and closer to pouncing right then and there. 

Bassist!Law who is the first to make it off stage as soon as the final note is played, making a beeline to you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His lips crash against yours, consuming your entire being with the pent-up emotions building up throughout the performance. 

Bassist!Law who enjoys the feeling of your ineffectual fists pushing his sweaty body away, whining about how wet he is. Your resistance only adds fuel to the burning desire, and the struggle between you is a prelude to the unabashed passion that will soon engulf the two of you. 

Bassist!Law who whisks you away, dragging you back to the tour bus before the rest of the bandmates can follow. Urgency manifested in his drive to claim you in the privacy of the dimly lit bus.

Bassist!Law who has you pinned against the bunk beds of the cramped tour bus, his body caging you in radiating with a ravenous hunger. His breath is a scorching whisper against your ear, weaving dirty promises, each a venomous caress that lays bare his intentions with a clarity that makes your knees quiver and your resolve melt like wax in a flame. 

Bassist!Law who grins at the marks he leaves on your skin, each bruise and bite a proclamation that you are his. 

Bassist!Law whose calloused fingers drag deep inside of you, each flick of his wrist leaving you gasping for breath. His touch is a paradox that emits tenderness and relentlessness, leaving you crying out in sheer wanton abandon. 

Bassist!Law who tears your clothes off, his hands mapping your body as if you were a prized possession. Each inch of you committed to memory, his fingers tracing a trail of fire along your curves and dips. 

Bassist!Law who maneuvers you into the narrow bunk bed, the limited space only heightening the intensity. He flips you over in the tight quarters, positioning you on your hands and knees, his hands gripping your hips with ferocity. 

Bassist!Law who teases you mercilessly, running the tip of his cock along your slick folds, each nudge of his bulbous tip pulling begs from your lips, the pleas bouncing off the walls of the tiny space. 

Bassist!Law who finally pushes into you, burying himself to the hilt. The sensation of him stretching you, the way he bucks into you, bullying your insides with each thrust, has you seeing stars, each and every nerve alight with pleasure, leaving your jaw agape whining panting, and whining with each kiss of your cervix. 

Bassist!Law who loses himself in the rhythm of your bodies, the tour bus seemingly swaying alongside your movements. His grunts meld with your cries of pleasure, the air thick with the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex, a melody much sweeter than the ones he plays on stage every night. 

Bassist!Law who is addicted to the way your hole clenches around him, your body responding to each rock of his hips, every angle change. He adjusts his pace and depth until your senses are flooded with nothing else but him, the only word you know how to say is his name, chanting it as if it were a prayer. 

Bassist!Law who drinks up the sight of you coming undone beneath him, the sight of your gasping, shuddering form driving him over his peak, burying himself deep inside of you, face in your neck, groaning your name as he pains your walls a creamy white. 

Bassist!Law who only waits a moment before pulling out of you, using your own shirt to clean you up as he tosses his own shirt at you right as his other bandmates laughter and chatter approach the bus. He loves the sight of you wearing the graphic tee he wore on stage only moments ago, the fabric hanging loosely on your frame. 

Bassist!Law whose bandmates walk in and immediately catch the sight of the aftermath- the touseled sheets, your embarrassed face accompanying the marks that litter your neck, you wearing Law’s shirt, now leaving his tattoos exposed to the elements. The knowing smirks, and stifled laughter from his friends only fuel his pride. He wraps an arm around you, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he revels in the evidence of your shared passion, completely and utterly unashamed. 

[sniigura-archive]

Multiversal DP (1)

Chapter 2

College Au! Adam x Fem!Reader x Canon! Adam

Summary: You thought God was looking down at you with a pitiful look, when your apartment burned down and the only person who answered your call was your whacky situationship.

But when a weird angel appears, who uncannily looks like Adam just in bigger and even more obnoxious, you realise that God was straight up laughing in your face.

This is based on my College Au! but you don’t need to read it to understand this.

CW/TW: Fire, Porn with slight Plot, Two-Shot, Jealousy, Controlling behaviour, TW ADAM, misogyny, toxic relationship, sci-fi bullshit which makes no sense, Mutual masturbation, slight financial dependency on readers part, possessive behaviour, tell me if i missed anything

A/N: This will be a two shot i swear ‼️‼️ nothing more nothing less

Today was a bad Saturday.

It was exhausting and went on longer than it should. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. First you had to drive to your college library to give back a book otherwise you would be fined, then you had to work an extra shift because someone got sick (hangover from the party yesterday you skipped), then your bus didn’t come without warning? What the fuck was that about? Since it was the last one you had to fucking walk home.

You were tired to your bones.

If you weren’t so tired, maybe you would have noticed the light coming from the floor above your apartments, and the fact that it glowed suspiciously orange and red. Walking up the stairs, the further up you got the more you noticed a heaviness in the air. Is someone using their bbq inside again?

Until the fire alarm went off, while you were one floor away from your apartment. What? You just stood there, frozen in shock. Is this a test? Standing still on the steps you considered continuing your way home, until everyone started spilling out of their own apartments. Ugh. So you’re doing this.

Fleeing with everyone else the building, you stood outside while you watched as the flames finally showed themselves from the outside. Since the apartment where it started was directly above yours, you saw the flames caught over to your own. It smelled like smoke, despair and money you will have to spend to replace everything. You don’t even know if your landlord has insurance. He hasn’t repaired your AC unit in 2 years now.

It felt dreamish, the way the fire department came, being able to see how a big portion was consumed by flames, and in the end sitting at the curb while freezing your ass off. One thing is clear, you won’t be able to sleep in your own bed tonight.

Your neighbours sat with you, together with a fireguy who chatted with everyone about the damage. Some sort of support beam came down. You didn’t bother engaging in the conversation.

It drifted towards where everyone is going to stay, your neighbours already had that figured out. He’s staying with his boyfriend, she’s going to visit her sister and they are going to each take a child and visit their own parents. When the eyes moved to you, you felt uncomfortable. Where will you stay?

“You should start calling your family, sweetie.” The old woman told you, her voice rough from all the cigarettes she smokes.

Everything today got you fucked up. Taking in a shaky breath and wiping your hands on your jeans, you stood up to make a few calls. Walking away from the group and basically hiding behind the firetruck, you didn’t want everyone to see that fact that you have like 3 contacts in your phone. You think they already know, though.

Since it’s in the middle of the night, or more like the new day already, Monica didn’t answer, neither did Dymphna or Bernadette. Maybe you should just crash in a motel. Then you remember what’s in your budget and how the motel in your price range had some weird incidents regarding rats and cockroaches and meth deals.

Tapping your phone against your forehead, you tried to keep calm and think. Then you remembered who gifted you that phone and you sighed.

Opening Adam’s contact, you hit the call button before you could chicken out. Holding your phone against your ear, you felt panic wash over you and before you could fumble around to end the call, Adam picked up.

“Fucking hell, baby, if yer callin’ me for anythin’ but a good dicking down ‘m gonna be pissed.” His voice was gruff and it’s clear to you that you just woke him up. He mumbled out the words.

All you could muster up was a sob and a weak “Sorry.”

“Where the fuck-“ You hang up before he could finish his sentence. Great. Why did you even think about calling Adam? Are you stupid? Desperation makes people do crazy things.

You tried to call your friends again and when everyone went to voicemail you thought about blocking them all in a blind rage because why the fuck can’t they be there during an emergency? Taking deep breath to calm yourself, you reasoned with yourself that you too would be sleeping during the witching hours.

Nervously biting down on your lower lip, you considered throwing yourself off a bridge to cope with everything. Deciding against it, you looked at your notifications instead. Adam was spamming you.

[Adam Godfree]: where r u 1:11 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:12 AM

[Adam Godfree]: send ur location 1:13 AM

[Adam Godfree]: baby 1:14 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:15

[Adam Godfree]: i’m not mad just say where u are 1:15 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:15 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:16 AM

[Adam Godfree]: (Call) 1:17 AM

[Adam Godfree]: answer my fcuikng calls 1:17 AM

[Adam Godfree]: im cuminv over u btter be fucking there 1:17 AM

More messages and call attempts clogged your notifications.

The fact that Adam is the only one answering in your time of need is lowkey so embarrassing. Since you read the messages through your notifications field, you aren’t leaving him on read. You think that would have ticked him off even more.

Taking a sneak back at the street, still covering your body with the fire truck, you noticed that everyone was gone. They all have retired for the night. It was a pretty intense debacle, everyone coming out to watch and film. The fire truck was started and you jumped slightly, fleeing towards the side walk.

If a fire truck drove you over you’d be very very very unhappy.

Sitting down on the street like the loser you are, you rubbed your hands over your face. Don’t cry. You’re all alone. But don’t cry. Don’t cry. Looking up the nearest Motel near you, which you could afford, you got up. Your legs felt weak. You didn’t even have a fucking phone charger with you. At least you took your laptop and the charger with you, if any of your files were gone you’d die.

You couldn’t help but think of everything you need to replace. Ok maybe you can cry a little. Crying and walking is an honest to god awful combination but beggars can’t be choosers or whatever.

Maybe you should text Adam that everything’s fine and that you were just being a bit dramatic. It’s been like, what? 10 minutes? And he usually takes 20 minutes to get here. You feel bad that he had to drive half the way.

Just as you were about to open the chat, a car turned into your street with an illegal speed. Damn.

Is that Adam’s car??? Double damn.

Adam stopped the car besides you with squeaking breaks and tires. He threw open the car door, and even before he fully stepped out he was yelling at you, “Bitch, what the fuck?!? You have the fucking nerve to call me up in the middle of the night and then to ignore me?? Do you even know who the fuck you’re talking to? How many other-“

“My apartment burned down.” You wanted to bawl your eyes out.

Everything you have meticulously worked hard and saved up for is gone. All your memories and trinkets and plants and everything you valued.

“..You’re joking?”

You shook your head, deciding on covering your face with your hands while you full on started sobbing now. Your breathing was hysterical and you thought you were about to full on start hyperventilating now because you have to apply for new documents now and what’s with your class notes and well at least all your cards were with you. Do you have to get a P.o. box now and how much does that cost? Can you even afford to be in a motel so long, do you have to pay for that? What happens if they can’t like restore the apartment complex where will you live the market is horrible and you’re going to be homeless and in debt, won’t you? You will have to drop out or take up more shifts or even get a second job but your grades and scholarship and and and and and and

Adam walked over towards you, but you were too deep in your mental breakdown spiral to notice it, and he carefully placed his hands on your shoulders. You flinched slightly at the unexpected contact, but when you realised it’s just Adam you relaxed again. Taking your hands away from your eyes, you had them resting on your cheeks.

“It’s okay, don’t worry that pretty little head. I will take care of everything, alright?” Adam’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. His fingers were massaging your tense muscles. You looked up at him with wet eyes and nodded pathetically at him. You didn’t trust your voice.

Adam started grinning down at you, “I have always wanted a cum dump at home, anyways.”

This just made you start crying again. Motel it is.

“Ah, bad joke. Don’t cry, cmon. You know me, babe, don’t have ta do anything you don’t wanna do.” He pulled you into his chest, his hand smoothing over your hair while the other rubbed your back. He’s warm and soft. You continued to sob into his sleeping shirt, while clutching at his shirt.

You don’t know for how long you’ve been crying for, but Adam simply stood during that time with you at the side walk, while comforting you. He didn’t speak, which was rare.

Once you have finally made the rational adult decision to calm down, after god knows how much time has passed, you lifted your head up from his chest and took a step back. You were still sniffling and you didn’t even want to image what your face was looking like.

Adam grasped your cheeks into his hands while wiping away your tears with his thumb, “Alright, alright, let’s get you to bed. Must have been exhausting for my poor, little baby.”

He leaned forward, giving your forehead a kiss. Then he grasped you by the shoulders and lead you towards the passenger seat, opening the door for you and helping you in by grasping your hand in his. Once you were sat down, with your bag at your feet, Adam leaned down towards you and put your seatbelt on for you. He closed the door and walked over to sit down in the drivers seat.

Driving to Adam’s apartment was relaxing, music was playing and you were starting to fall asleep.

“..Ho….that…ven..hap..”

“Huh?” You lifted your head up from the car window, blinking at Adam sleepily.

“I asked how the fire even happened?” Adam glanced over at you, you were going to be there soon.

You sighed, and rested your head again against the window, “Guy feel asleep with a joint in his hand…Or was it his mouth? Doesn’t matter. Curtains and carpet caught on fire.”

“Oh my fucking…You’re kidding me?” Adam drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.

You stretched your arms, hands and fingers out before you, “I wish.”

Adam continued watching you, glancing at you as if you didn’t notice. He was trying to be slick. Smoothly parking his car, he got out. You opened your car door, taking your bag with you when you left the car. Adam took your bag from you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pressing you into his side. You both made your way to his apartment.

Taking off your thin winter coat, together with your old boots, you were ready to just pass out.

“You want me in the guest room?” You asked him, while rubbing at your eyes.

“The fuck? No. You’re sleeping with me, baby. Pun intended.” He winked at you.

You sighed warily, you’re too exhausted to even glare at Adam. He was still fighting with untying his own boots. Shifting from one leg to the other, you decided on looking around Adam’s living room. Nothing has changed. Still weirdly sterile and empty. His bedroom was at least somewhat different, filled with band posters and guitars.

After Adam finally got his shoes and jacket off, he intervened your fingers with his and lead you to his bedroom. He went and rummaged through his closet, giving you a sweatshirt, “This should do for now, we will get you new fucking clothes tomorrow….”

“Thank you, Adam.”

“Yeah, yeah, how about you remember this next time I want my dick sucked? How I’m such a nice fucking guy, and how you owe me, babe.” Adam pinched your cheek while he spoke, grinning down at you.

Dear god, please fix up your apartment as fast as possible. With lots of love, your saddest creation.

Adam answering your call is literally the devils work, you can’t explain it otherwise. Is this some sort of punishment? What did you do in your last life to deserve this.

Rolling your eyes at Adam, you got out of his grasp and turned your back to him to get dressed. Taking off your own hoodie, and bra you slipped into the sweatshirt Adam gave you. It was soft and the material was thick and nice. It was huge on you, but that’s just because Adam is a big guy. Everywhere.

Taking off your jeans, you folded your clothes messily and put them on Adam’s desk chair. Adam was already in his sleeping wear, since you gracefully woke him up in the middle of the night. He was in bed, watching you get dressed, while he yawned.

Ducking under the blanket with him, Adam grabbed your arm and dragged you towards him. It’s like he wants to live in your skin. He made your head rest against his chest, while he had his arm wrapped tightly around you.

“Wake me up again today, ’m going to spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down ever fucking again.” He grumbled at you, while giving your ass a pinch.

You gasped slightly, before burying your head into his neck. He always smells nice.

Before you knew it, you were already asleep.

In your dream, a big support beam in your burning building was dropped on you. Crushing your body to the floor, with your back to the ground.

Blinking, you slowly but surely woke up, with your heart hammering against your chest. Trying to turn over, you noticed something heavy laying on you. Adam’s head was on your chest, his arms were wrapped around your back and his breathing was even. Remembering his threat, you decided on letting him sleep. Sighing and burying your hand in his soft hair, you decided on continuing snoozing.

But as soon as you buried your hands in Adam’s hair, Adam lifted his head up and was now resting his chin on your chest. Does he not know that tits are sensitive?

With his oh so charming grin on his face, you just knew he was up to no good. He shifted and was now resting his weight on his arms, besides your head, rather than using your body as a pillow. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Adam crashed your lips together, he is as shameless as always. His hand roamed your body, till he slipped it under your sweatshirt. Gently fondling your left breast. He rolled his half-hard dick on your thigh.

Disconnecting your lips from his, you whimpered against his lips.

“What happened to ‘Good morning’? ‘How did you sleep?’. What happened to that?”

Adam moved to kiss your ear, cheek and then your neck. Leaving open mouthed kisses against your skin, while he panted against you.

“Mornin’ slut,” Why is his morning voice so fucking sexy? “you jerk me off right now ‘n I’m going to buy you whatfuckingever you want today.”

You would jerk him off for free. You did jerk him off for free. Are you a whore?

Adam sat up, moving so that both his knees were besides your stomach. You were happy he didn’t sit down on you, he could easily crush you. That’s sexy, though. He kneeled over you, and you saw his dick strain against his fuzzy pants.

He grasped your sweatshirt into his big hand, pulling it up towards your chin to expose your tits. Seeing them made him smirk. Taking your hand into his, he placed it on his dick and ground your palm against him.

“Watcha waiting for, baby?” He purred while looking down on you.

Adam always made you horribly nervous. No matter how often you hang out, or fuck, he always has you blushing and stuttering. Fuck. Grasping the hem of Adam’s pants into your hands, you pulled them down together with his underwear.

His dick was heavy, curving downwards and already leaking pre cum. You’ve had this monster inside you more than once, but every time you’re surprised at just how big he is. It’s not only his length, but also the girth. Jesus. Stretching you out mercilessly every time, you struggled with wrapping your fingers around him. His gold prince albert piercing glinted in the dim light.

Realising with your hand wrapped around him, that jerking him off with dry hands was probably not the move. Making sure to lick your other hand, while keeping eye contact with Adam, you wrapped your now wet hand around his member. You started with slow a slow movement, spreading his pre cum across his dick. You licked your other hand, because this was for sure a two hand job, you now were able to use your left hand for the lower part and the right hand for the top part.

Massaging his tip with your thumb, Adam groaned, “Ughh, fuck babe, you loooove serving me, don’t you? Making me cum is, like, your fucking dream job.” He laughed at his own fantasy, “Don’t worry tho, making your pretty pussy cum is my own life work.”

Adam reached back, his hand brushing over your hips and finally getting under your panties, “Sooo wet already? You’re too easy.” The way he grinned and sounds giddy made it obvious how much he enjoyed it. His fingers found your clit and then your weeping hole. He gathered the wetness on his middle and pointer finger, he then went to massage your clit.

Your hips jerked up, at the sudden pleasure cursing through your body. Moaning up at Adam, your hands stuttered their jerking movements. Quickly catching yourself, you speed up your movements while focusing on Adam rubbing at your clit.

He moved his fingers to pinch your clit in between his fingers, you whined while your hips jerked even more, “Stop that. Do it properly.” You hissed at him, while glaring up at him.

Adam simply snickered at you, but he did move back his fingers to continue rubbing your clit. You moved your left hand to massage Adam’s balls, gently moving your fingers across that sensitive part of Adam. Grasping softly in your hands, arching your palm up in a wave motion.

“Fuuuuuck, ha, you’re doing so well.” Adam moaned out, while he intensified his finger movements. Shit, you’re close. But so was Adam, you could tell by his furrowed brow, he was moving his hips to grind his dick further into your hands and fingers, his noises and breathing.

“Pleaseee, Adam, won’t you cum all over..me?” You pouted up at him, massaging his dick.

The pressure build up in your lower stomach, your pussy clenching around nothing as you felt yourself cum. Shit. Adam laughed at you, his fingers never left your clit.

It didn’t take much longer for Adam to cum after you, coating your torso white. It was hot, sticky and thick. Ugh. Adam’s fingers still didn’t left your clit. What an asshole.

“EeeeEeeenough, Adam, Oh fuck-“ You tried to angel your hips in a way that he leaves your most sensitive part alone, he chuckled and wiggled his hand out off your panties. Thank god.

Adam pulled his pants back up, and sat down besides your laying down body. You tried to catch your breath, your clean hand covered your eyes. With Adam’s sweatshirt not covering you anymore properly, you were starting to get cold.

Taking your face in his hands, Adam gave your cheek a wet kiss. He brushed his lips over your ear, before whispering in your ear, “Aren’t you just my precious little slut? Go shower, baby.”

You nodded your head at that, showering would be a smart move. Getting up, you located your clothes, before you started walking Adam gave your ass an stinging slap. Gasping in surprise, you went and covered your ass with your hands.

“Man, I didn’t even wake you up..” You grumbled at him, going over to take your clothes.

“Yeah bitch, but you made me wait till you woke up to drain my balls.” Adam got out of bed, stretching his arms over his head.

You stuck out your tongue towards Adam, with your clothes in hand you took off towards the shower. Using Adam’s stuff always felt weird to you. Obviously he doesn’t have woman shower gel, but still. Smelling like Axe was sure something, having your friends side eye you for your smell was even worse.

Getting out, you towelled yourself dry. Slipping into your clothes form yesterday, you left the bathroom. Seeing Adam in the kitchen, at the stove, you made your way over. Wrapping your arms around his mid section, you buried your head between his shoulder blades.

Adam wrapped his one hand over your intervened hands. God, he’s such a big guy.

“Hey baby, you like french toast?”

You simply mumbled a yeah into his shirt, while smelling how good Adams cologne smells. No wonder he’s so popular. If only it wasn’t for his mouth. Adam rubbed your hands with his thumb while chuckling. He turned the stove off and turned around, taking your face into his hands he gave you a deep kiss.

“You excited to fulfill your womanly role of being in the kitchen while you’re here?” Adam mumbled against your lips.

“…You piss me off beyond believe.” You shoved him away by his shoulders, while he laughed.

He didn’t stay away for long, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your bodies together.

“Why? You don’t wanna be my pretty little housewife? Nah, but seriously you do have to pull your weight ‘round here.” Adam pushed a few wet strands of your hair out of your face.

You nodded at Adam, “Of course….I know it wouldn’t be enough but I could give you the amount of rent I pay?”

Adam looked at you like you were stupid, “Babe, I fucking meant, like, cleaning up after yourself, cooking once in a while and hopping on my awesome dick. Well, it’s more of a bonus to be able to ride me whenever you please. I can make that pussy fucking churn, baby, you know it.”

Rolling your eyes at Adam, you simply hid away by smashing your face into Adam’s chest. His incredibly soft chest. Gliding his hands all over your body, Adam bend his neck to whisper into your ear,

“Sit down before the food gets cold.”

Sitting down, you let Adam fix you and him a plate. It all felt weirdly domestic.

Once you were finished, you put everything in the dishwasher while Adam made his way to the bedroom, to get dressed. You plopped down on the couch, twirling your thumbs basically. Sighing, you laid down on the couch. Adam entered the living room.

“What’s up? Stop looking all depressed and shit, we are bout to empty my fucking wallet. Aren’t woman happy to go shopping on a man’s hard earned dime?” Adam stood in-front of you, with his jacket in hand.

“I just..I can’t believe I’m homeless…..This is my biggest fear coming true. Oh my god….I’m homeless…” You covered your face with your hands and groaned loudly. You’re fucking homeless.

Adam scoffed at you, taking your hands into his own and taking them off your face.

“Baby, you’re living here now. We will put your last name on the fucking mailbox and whatever else you need. I will handle everything, sweet thing, don’t you fucking worry.” Adam grasped your knee into his hand now, shaking it slightly, “Cmon, get fucking up. I need you to lighten my wallet up.”

You stood up, nodding at Adam, “Okay, okay, let’s get going.”

Walking towards your jacket, you put it on, together with your worn out boots. Fall is a bitch and winter was even worse. Adam furrowed his brows at your clothes, he grabbed your jacket and felt your jacket lining.

“Jesus, this thin thing doesn’t do shit for you, and what the fuck’s up with your boots? Woman, we have to get you a whole new wardrobe.” He shook his head at you, like it’s your fault you’re broke.

Shopping with Adam played out as well as you thought. When Adam asked you which store you usually go to, and you said the thrift store he looked unhappy. He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you all across the mall.

Unsurprisingly, his favourite place was the underwear section. When you grabbed a multi pack of basic panties, Adam looked at you like you personally ruined his life with that decision.

This whole thing was tiring, you just wanted to lay down. At least Adam had the time of is life, sending you to the dressing room and getting to play dress up doll with you. Eh, at least he isn’t bitching at you, he complains about how woman sizes are not all standardised, how the stitching is shit and how it can be that they don’t have that top, in that colour, in a bigger size. He’s in his zone. He has you try on stuff in different colours, shapes, sizes and man he’s picky as fuck.

All you wanted was a few sweatshirts, one pair of jeans and some socks and underwear. In the end you got a new fucking closet, your make up items basically replaced with the expensive version of your drug store ones, shampoo and conditioner from brands you couldn’t even pronounce, and some sanitary products. Once Adam started looking at sundresses (summer is like 6 months away??) you put your foot down and told him you wanted to go home. You weren’t sure more bags would fit on his arms and in his hands anyways, since he refuses to let you touch anything.

Standing in line at the last checkout, Adam was preoccupied looking at bras. Telling him your bra size was probably a mistake. Letting him drag you to a lingerie store was the other mistake. You felt your phone vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans.

Pulling it out, it was a group chat call from your friends. Accepting the call, you held your phone against your ear,

“‘Yello?”

“What in Christs name is going on that you call up a storm in the middle of the night?”

You could barley understand a word, with 3 different people talking at once, but that was the gist of it.

“Uhh, nothing bad. Apartment burned down.”

“WHATTT???”

Before you could elaborate, you felt your phone being snatched out of your hand. Looking back, you saw Adam glare at your phone.

“If it isn’t the fucking Hexenzirkel!….Mind your own fucking business, everything here’s alright.” With that he hung up your phone and pocketed it. Great. Now that’s a fire you will have to put out later.

Adam herded you forward, towards a free register. He paid for everything, and then took you towards the parking garage where he left the car. Stacking everything in the backseat and trunk, you sat down at your seat. Adam got in, and he started driving home.

Calming your friends was sure a thing you had to pull off. Explaining to them what happened and why you live now with Adam, off all people, was sure something you did. With lots of interruptions. Monica and Dy both assured you that you could always crash at their apartment, in their guest room.

Well, they won’t be able to make you cum 3 times in the span of 20 minutes, so you were going to ride this out. Literally.

You already realised that living with Adam would include lots of sex. He kind of made it his mission to christen every room in his apartment. More than once.

So across a few weeks, he had you ride him on the couch, eating you out in the bathroom, bending you over the kitchen counter, having you suck his dick in the guest room and romantic missionary in his bedroom. And much more and more frequently. Trying out cock warming sadly didn’t go as well, Adam doesn’t have the self control for that, but tying him down on a chair did help with that. And it was hot as fuck.

What you didn’t take in account for was the domesticity of it all. Cooking with Adam, drying the dishes while he washes, watching shows and movies, talking about each others day at the end of the day, cuddling, sleeping in each others embrace, listening to Adam sing and play his guitar, his rambling about the girls his band and music he enjoys, showering together and washing each others hair, grocery shopping together. It’s all so soft, you didn’t really except it. It scares you.

Adam had a lot of bad qualities, like how he tries to give you a curfew, you have to change your phone password every week, you’re sure he has your phone location somehow (you really have to check your app and settings), he keeps making attempts of convincing you to quit your job, tries to dictate what you wear outside the house (all you wear rn are baggy clothes anyways, not because of Adam but because it’s cold af), he always asks you where you’re going and with who, for how long will you stay out? Should he come with you? Don’t worry, baby, he will give a lift and coincidentally stays there for as long as you. Right besides you. He hid away all the door keys?? He loves scaring you and he has a tendency to make your keys and phone disappear when you’re about to leave.

So yeah, privacy was non existent. But when your landlord sent you an email on how you should still pay rent?? Adam took your phone and told you he would take care of it and lo and behold, another email followed up saying that you don’t need to pay for shit. Who would have fucking thought. A few days after the fire you were allowed inside again, picking out whatever wasn’t fully destroyed. There wasn’t much, Adam came with you, and when you were close to crying again, he gave your head a kiss and bought you your favourite take out.

You’re pretty sure he’s trying to condition you to be dependent on him, since when he makes you cum he has a tendency to whisper to you about how you’d should cancel your lease, how you should quit (again) and how nice wouldn’t it be to be his little housewife? You’re happy you got the copper IUD, otherwise you would be pregnant right now. Since Adam is insatiable.

At the end of the day you get fed, get 8 hours of sleep and Adam tries to drive and pick you up wherever you want. So you have been throughly enjoying the past few weeks. The fact that you have to reassure your friends that you are fine and juggle Adam’s weird behaviour is just something you have to deal with.

You were close to falling asleep. Adam was laying on the couch, with you on his chest. He was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, while you buried your face into his neck. His one hand was under your shirt, his fingers traced heart shapes on your skin. You felt his heart thump through his chest, in a slow rhythm. The TV was playing in the background, some fucking Family Guy episode Adam picked out.

The lights started to flicker, faster and faster.

“What the fuck?” Adam sat up, looking around confused.

All the electronics were starting to go crazy, the TV switched between movies and shows, the microwave started going off, together with the fire alarm. You rubbed your eye, while yawning. Everything came to a hold when everything got shut off. You sat in the dark.

“..Huh?” Is all you could get out. Whats going on?

“Fucking fuck. Did a fucking fuse blow out on me?” Adam ushered you off his lap, you stretched your arms over your head.

“Did you forget to pay utilities? Happened to me once or twice.” You threw into the room.

Adam scoffed at that, “Did you forget or were you too broke? I pay my shit on time, don’t fucking worry about it. Fuck. I think the fuse box is out on the hallway.”

“..Both.” You made an attempt at going back to clinging to Adam, he was comfy and you were tired.

“Can’t get rid of you, huh?” He chuckled at you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you closer to him, “Need me to carry you to every fucking errand I need to run?”

You nodded at him, humming in agreement. Adam slipped his arm under your knees and the other under your shoulder, when he stood up he took you with him. Carrying you bridal style. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Don’t drop me! Ah! Adam!”

“Damn babe, usually you only scream my name like that when I make you cream all around me! Don’t stress yourself, you weigh nothing to me. Watch this.” Adam laughed at you, he spun you around in his arms. Then he proceeded to do squats. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics. After that, the final round, he did bicep curls, using you as his weight.

“Drop me, gym bro.” You laughed at him.

“Yes, mam.” Adam suddenly let go off you for a second, or at least made it seem like that.

Your heart dropped, genuinely thinking that Adam let go off without warning. But he quickly caught you again, laughing at your screaming and horrified expression. He set you back on your feet, grinning at you.

“Chillax babe, as if I would ever drop ya.” He brushed your hair away from your face.

“Fuck off, asshole. How about we look for that fuse box? I don’t wanna live in a lightless apartment.” You hissed at him, swatting away his grabby hands. At least your eyes got adjusted to the dark.

Before Adam could answer, everything started to go crazy again. TV blaring, lights flickering, beeping and fucking sparks flying.

Adam yanked you down with him by your arm, you both were squatting behind the couch.

“Fucking hell?! What the fucks going on??”

A blazing, colourful tear appeared into the air, between the TV and couch. Man were you happy to have said couch as a shield. A high pitched tone sounded through the air, causing both you and Adam to grimace. Covering your ears, you squinted while trying to take a look at the weird slit. It was changing size and form and honestly, you weren’t too sure what you were looking at. So you just ducked behind the couch again, not wanting to know what actually was going on.

Then it just stopped. Everything was pitch black, taking a look out the window you saw that non of the lights in the other buildings were on anymore. Fucking power shut off.

“Let’s get fucking out of here befo-“ Adam started speaking, but was interrupted by a horrible sizzling sound. You were sure that the sound waves which vibrated through the air were touching your soul.

The tear appeared again, just this time in a circle form. Adam and you ducked behind the couch again, while the…thing moved and changed and screeched. It stopped. Again.

“Jesus Christ…” You whispered into the darkness, looking at Adam with big eyes.

“Uhm, fuck no, I’m not the J- Dog. I’m fucking Adam, you know? The first dick on fucking earth?”

??????

Adam and you looked at each other like you have just seen a ghost. You both shoot up from behind the couch at the same time.

What kind of creature appeared in the living room????

He’s very tall. Too tall. And big. His horns hit the ceiling, so he has to awkwardly slouch. What even is his face? Are those golden wings? How fucking big are they? Wingspan of over 9000? Whats that round thing over his head, a halo? With a weird ass robe. Oh my god. What’s even going on anymore?

“Fucking sick, you both can hide your wings and halo? How long did that take you to fucking master? A century or two?” The thing gave you both a once over, his gaze lingered on Adam’s face, but he just shook his head. A century? You weren’t even ready to continue living for another 10 years.

You reached your hand out, grasping Adam’s arm tightly. Adam’s muscles were tense and he seemed to grind his teeth, glaring at the unwanted guest. God help you.

“What? You two to fucking shocked seeing this big of a deal, huh? I totally get it. Want an autograph?”

“..We…Don’t need to….Hide our…Wings. Because we are…People…?” You decided on saying. It’s better if you speak and not Adam, since he looked close to blowing up.

The creature blinked at you, “Oh shit…Don’t fucking worry about this little incident, sugar tits, upstairs we got extra protocol for this.” He turned his huge back towards you and Adam, giving you a nice view of his glowy, golden wings.

Since your heart was starting to calm down, and you were able to think clear, the realisation creeped in that he kind sounded like Adam? Weird coincidence.

Adam’s face soured even more at the pet name, “Al-fucking-right, listen here, A-“

Grabbing Adam by the collar of his hoodie, you yanked him down. Placing your finger against your lips, to signal for him to shut up, you let him go again. It’s best if Adam does not start a fight with a whole ass angel.

Said Angel was snapping his fingers repeatedly. Each time he did, the electronics started going crazy again. All that appeared were sparks around his fingers, and where the tear was it sizzled slightly. Great.

“The fuck? Why isn’t this shit working?”

Adam crossed his arms infront of his chest, looking unhappier with every passing second. This won’t go well. You feel it in your soul.

The angel nervously threw a look over his shoulder, at you and Adam. As if any of this was your fault. Rolling your eyes, you bit your tongue.

“…You sure you’re a fucking angel?” Adam spoke into the tense atmosphere.

“Yes I’m fucking sure I’m an angel! Have some fucking respect, without me non of you fuckers could be frolicking right fucking now!”

And so it starts. While the two men threw insults at each other, you tried to breath through your panic. Taking a good look at the angel, not only did he have the same voice as Adam, his face reminds you off the masks Adam’s band wears whenever they perform. Maybe….

“Take off your mask.” You decided on telling the giant. All eyes were on you now.

“Woah, bossy. And here I fucking thought you were a well trained bitch, who knows not to interrupt when the men are speaking.” Alright, you hate that guy.

He hooked his fingers under, what was finally revealed as a mask, and slipped his face out of it. Even though his hair was a mess, one thing was clear. That was Adam.

It was uncanny to watch, you were uncomfortable. It clearly felt like that they weren’t supposed to be in the same room. The only difference between their faces was that this one didn’t have any piercings, and he looked to be in his thirties. Good to know that Adam still will look hot in like 10 years. DILF. The even have the same facial expressions, and reactions to each other.

“You supposed to be some shitty alternative version of me, or what?” Adam asked, his chin in his hands and head tilted.

“Fuck no, you dumbass didn’t listen to me? I’m fucking Adam, the first man? More like my genes are alive and well in you. Good to know.” He nodded at Adam.

“Are you sure? Because his name is also Adam, and he has two ex girlfriends named Lilith and Eve. Same break up as you had…….Are we in a Bible fan-fiction? Why does everyone I know have biblical names and a fitting background?” Is your whole life a lie??

The angel simply blinked at you, then his gaze shifted towards Adam. He chuckled nervously again, once again snapping his fingers. All it did was make sparks fly and mess further with the electricity, not just in this apartment but also with every other building outside.

“Fucking stop it, shit obviously isn’t working.” Adam dragged his hand over his face, obviously exhausted.

“Well, if you can travel through space just like that, what’s really stopping you from also going through time? We basically already know that alternative universes are a thing, if we think of both timelines as water streams, going at the same speed….or time?” You put your hands infront of each other, not touching having them touch, “You must have accidentally messed something up in your travels, causing you to fall out of your stream into ours…” Moving your right hand to bump it into your left one, you imaged the angel falling and tumbling into your world.

“…That’s so cool.” You whispered under your breath, the angels wings fluffed up, a grin appearing on his face.

“Yeah, I’m pretty fucking cool, babes.” He looked so proud of himself, as if he did it all on purpose. Idiot.

Adam glared at his doppelgänger, while wrapping his arm around your shoulder and yanking you into his side. He rubbed his chin against the top of your head, like an animal marking it’s territory. You were too far into your multiversal fantasies and connecting it to your physics classes, to notice the angle smugly grinning at Adam, as if he won that round. Weird macho behaviour, which you couldn’t care less for.

“What are we fucking supposed to do now?” Adam asked, carefully.

“..Is the couch free, bro?”

[queer-irritator]

Roomies | Roommate!Wade Wilson x Roomate! GN! Reader

Inspo for this fic came from @lunasblunt via this post <3

CW: All the things that go along with Deadpool <3, hint at stalking

Word count: 3,107

You trudged up concrete steps to reach your front door. It had been a long, frustrating day at work so you hadn’t bothered to lift your head from your phone where you were currently placing an order for Chinese food. It wasn’t until your key refused to slide into the lock that your attention was torn from the delicious food on your phone. 

After one more failed attempt to insert your key, you noticed a paper stapled to your door with the word ‘EVICTION’ typed in large red print. 

“What the fuck?” You mumbled to yourself, eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

You began to read the notice, apparently your piece of shit roommate hadn’t been paying their half of the rent the last few months. Sighing, you turned to face the street and sat on the cold steps and ran your hands down your face. This night really couldn’t get much worse. 

After taking a few minutes to wallow in self pity, you got up and located your belongings that had been thrown in a disorganized pile next to the steps. There was no doubt in your mind some items had been stolen if they were outside all day. You rummaged through your belongings and packed up what you needed, now you just needed somewhere to crash. 

Unlocking your phone, you scrolled through your contacts list hoping someone would be kind enough to accommodate you for the night. 

‘Althea S.’

The name brought a smile to your lips, Al was a long time family friend and always was there for you in your hardest moments. You clicked on her contact information and gave her a call. 

-

Of course, Al was happy to offer up her couch for as long as you needed. So, you were now stepping off the bus that dropped you off in front of her apartment. Rummaging through your bag for a spare key Al had given to you a few years ago, a gruff, low voice sounded besides you.

“You heading inside?”

Startled, you jumped slightly and placed your hand over your chest, “Oh, you scared me! I didn’t see you there.” 

“I tend to have that effect on people.” the man replied, putting out a cigar he had been smoking. 

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that you were scary, I just…” You paused, it would probably be better to just move on, “But, yes. I am heading inside. Can’t find my key.” 

The man was pretty tall. He had dark hair and quite an interesting facial hair style choice going on. And although he was wearing jeans and a flannel, it was obvious he was incredibly muscular and fit. 

The man moved in front of you and unlocked the door and held it open. 

You thanked him as you walked inside and he followed behind you. You started to make your way up the stairs to the third floor. Although the mysterious man wasn’t speaking, you still heard his footsteps behind you. You were telling yourself it had to be just a coincidence. That was, until he continued to follow you to Al’s door. 

You had began to shake slightly from anxiety, this man has been following you and there was no way you could put up a fight with him. But you could sure as hell try. You turned around quickly, gripping your pepper spray in one hand.

“Can you please stop following me??” Your tone came out aggressive and confrontational, just as you had hoped. 

“I’m not following you.” He said simply. 

God, he was a bad liar. He wasn’t even trying to think of an excuse!

You used your thumb to slide open your pepper spray as you continued to try to get him to leave you alone, “Yes, you are. I know who lives in this apartment, so if you don’t leave I’m going to scream and then you’ll go to jail for being a fucking creep.” 

“First of all, you can’t go to jail just for “being a creep”. Second of all, I live here!” He began to raise his voice.

You gave him two chances, so you quickly lifted your pepper sprays to his face and sprayed him in the eyes and began to bang on the door.

“What the fuck!?” The man squeezed his eyes shut and put his hands over his eyes.

“Al!! Open the door! I need help!!” You yelled while banging on the door. 

The man was groaning in pain and trying to get his bearings when you heard a click and the door open. Without even looking, you ran inside and locked the door behind you. 

“What the fuck is going on?” You heard Al’s voice behind you.

Panting, you dropped your bag and frantically began to explain the situation. 

Al began to comfort you and rubbed your shoulder, “Wade, go see what the hell is going on.”

You hadn’t noticed before that there was a man sitting on the couch, eating popcorn and holding a hairless dog. 

He groaned before getting up dramatically. He was only wearing a white t-shirt, blue and white striped boxers and white fluffy bunny slippers as he poked his head into the hall.

“Come here, sugar.” Al lead you to the couch and got you a glass of water and offered you some hits from the bong sitting on the table, which you gladly took. 

While you were calming down, you heard muffled voices from the hallway. There was only two things you heard clearly. 

It was the same voice as before, yelling again, “They fucking pepper sprayed me!” followed by who you assume is Wade, laughing hysterically. 

The door opened and Wade walked in, but the man that had been following you also came inside. 

“What are you doing?? That’s the guy that was following me!” You shot up from the couch, ready to become defensive. 

“Well, obviously, a certain blind old lady has neglected to tell you that she has 3 roommates.” Wade explained. 

“What?” You looked to Al, confused.

“Oh shit.” Al murmured, “Yeah, I guess I forgot a thing or two. Meet Logan and Wade.” She said, gesturing to the door, where the men no longer stood. 

“Oh my god.” You brought a hand up to cover your mouth as guilt began to come over you.

Al had mentioned Wade and Logan in passing, but never told you they lived with her, or that they would be around tonight.

Logan was still wiping his eyes, but Wade had returned to his position on the couch.

You gingerly stepped closer to Logan, “I am so sorry, Logan… Is there anything I can do? I’ll get you some water.” You didn’t give him a chance to answer before you were in the kitchen filling up a glass of water and also wetting a dish cloth.

“Oh, don’t be sorry.” Wade piped up, “You’re my new favorite person now!” 

Logan ignored him, “It’s fine… I can’t say I blame you.” He took the wet cloth from you when you returned and wiped his eyes and face with it.

“Well, I’m going to bed. Don’t pepper spray anyone else.” Al announced before heading to her room. 

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna do the same…” Logan said before disappearing into the second bedroom.

Now you were left alone with Wade. You sat on the opposite end of the couch without saying another word. The only sounds filling the room were coming from the television and the crunch of popcorn. 

Feeling awkwardness creep in, you decided to take another hit on the bong.  

“Evicted? Yeeesh, that sucks.” The man beside you spoke. 

You whipped your head toward him to see him rummaging through your bag, tossing your eviction notice over his shoulder and continuing his snooping. 

“Uhm… could you maybe not go through my stuff?” You were aghast by the audacity of this man. 

“I could, but I’m nosy. And you did just pepper spray my best friend.” He defended his actions as he examined a pair of your underwear. 

You snatched the underwear and your bag from him, stuffing the garment back inside and zipping it up. 

“Which I apologized for. And you didn’t seem too concerned for him earlier.” You tucked your bag next to you on the couch. 

Wade shrugged and continued eating his popcorn, but just then a pink hello kitty watch he wore on his wrist went off. 

“Oh, duty calls!” He set the bowl of half eaten popcorn aside and stood up. 

You carefully watched him as he picked up a clump of red clothing from the floor and gave it a sniff. It must have passed the smell test because he kicked off his bunny slippers and got dressed in a red and black suit. After he equipped copious amounts of weapons to his holsters, he put on a mask and opened the door. 

“See you later, sweet cheeks.” He winked at you before leaving. 

After the night you had, you decided to just go to bed while you had some peace and quiet.

-

You had been staying at Al’s for about two weeks now. You got to know the boys better, and it only made you feel worse about pepper spraying Logan. He had insisted that you take the bedroom and he would put up with sleeping on the couch. Despite how many times you said no and refused, it was to no avail. He had practically forced you to take his room. Wade on the other hand was always coming and going at odd hours. You learned that he and Logan were mutants and hunted down criminals once in a while together, they called themselves Deadpool and Wolverine. Wade did most of his work on his own though, he described it as “beating up assholes”. You had only seen him a handful of times, but he was seeming to stick around a bit longer after returning from one of his adventures last night. 

It was morning and you were cooking breakfast with Logan. The two of you had actually been getting along, despite the circumstances which you met. He was giving you a tip on knowing when bacon was done cooking when Wade had inserted himself in between the two of you.

“Hey! Glad to see my two peanuts are getting along!” He said, slinging his arms over yours and Logan’s shoulders. 

Logan was quick to shrug his arm off, “Go feed your rat dog, Wilson.” 

Wade did a theatrical gasp, “Don’t you EVER call her that again! She is a beautiful angel!” He walked over to pick up Dogpool and cuddle her. 

“That’s my good girl! Yes, you love your Papa, don’t you?” He cooed and baby-talked Dogpool as she licked his face. 

You had been watching him and chuckled to yourself. Logan glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. He saw the way you looked at Wade. At first he thought it was you pitying him, but the more he observed, the more he could tell you definitely had a crush. 

“I’m gonna finish this up, it’ll be ready in 10 minutes.” Logan said as he began to cook some pancakes.

You nodded at him and headed to your room, giving a big smile to Wade and Dogpool as you passed them. You sat on your bed and pulled out your computer, continuing your daily search for a new apartment. 

It only took about two minutes until Wade had appeared in your doorway. You glanced up and acknowledged him with a quick ‘Hi’. You tried to focus on your task at hand, but Wade was a hard person to ignore. 

He looked around the room and took a few steps inside. He picked up one of the stuffed animals you had displayed in a net and played with it for a few seconds before putting it back. Coming further into the room, he swung his arms by his side and blew a raspberry into the air. He looked at a few more of your things strewn about the room before he was at the edge of your bed, looking over your shoulder.

“Getting tired of us already?” He commented, sitting next to you. 

You looked over at him and chuckled, “I’m just staying here until I get a new place. Remember the eviction notice you found snooping in my bag?” 

“Ohhh yeah, I almost forgot about that!” He thought back fondly on the night you met. 

His presence being so close to you made your heart beat pick up speed and breath shake slightly. You couldn’t deny your attraction to Wade. Especially when he would get home late, sweaty, beaten, and bloody, still in his suit. God, that suit. It made him look so damn good. 

“What about that one?” He lifted his arm to point at your screen, arm brushing against yours in the process.

You clicked on the listing, “Well, if you have $6,000 laying around every month for rent, we could get it.” You chuckled. 

“We?” Wade repeated your words, looking at you. 

You felt your cheeks heat up, “Well, I can’t afford it…” 

Before Wade could make a snide comment, Logan knocked on your open door. 

“Breakfast is ready.” 

You took the excuse to close your laptop and quickly get up and get some food. 

Wade trailed behind you, but stopped when his phone rang. He dug his hand into his pocket and answered the call. You couldn’t help but listen in as you began to eat. 

“Okay! Don’t get your nipples in a twist, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Wade groaned and hung up, leaving to go change into his suit. 

It was starting to piss Wade off how much he had been working the past few weeks. He had barely had any time to get to know you. When he re-emerged, ready to take out some bad guys, minus the mask, he grabbed a piece of bacon. 

“It’s like no one wants to kill evil masterminds themselves these days!” He commented, mouth full of food. He picked up a pancake and shoved it in his mouth before pulling on his mask. 

“Thanks for breakfast, peanut.” He said, ruffling Logan’s hair.

He was greeted with adamantium claws in his side, “Don’t fucking touch me.” 

Wade groaned in pain but quickly laughed it off, “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the Outback today.”

You grimaced, the squelching sound of blood dampening your appetite. You were just glad the Deadpool suit’s colors hid the blood stains. 

Logan’s claws retracted and Wade walked to the door, “You don’t have to play hard to get in front of company, pookie bear.” He winked and blew a kiss towards you and Logan before leaving. 

“I swear, one day I’m going to find a way to kill him.” Logan muttered before continuing to eat. 

You chuckled and drank some coffee, the dynamic Wade and Logan had never failed to make you laugh. 

-

Later that night Logan and Al had gone out to a bar, but you elected to stay in. It was around 10:30 when Wade came home. When we walked through the door he looked a little worse for wear, more than usual. 

His posture was hunched forward and his shoulders were hanging low. You could also see multiple bullet holes in his suit. You got up from where you had been sitting on the couch with Dogpool. 

“Wade? Did you have a rough day?” You questioned, voice laced with concern.

“You could say that.” He replied, flopping onto the couch with a sigh. 

“What happened?” You noticed a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead on his mask which he just started to take off. 

“Just- God dammit.” He muttered to himself, struggling to find the seam of velcro to peel off his mask. 

“Let me help.” You said, scooting closer to him so your thighs were brushing together. 

Wade set his hands down on his lap as yours gently removed his mask and placed it on the coffee table. You gave him a sweet, sympathetic smile when you saw the defeated look on his face. 

“You can talk to me.” You gently encouraged him, placing a hand on his knee. He looked down at your hand and then back to your eyes. He leaned back against the couch, “The asshole got away today.”

“I”m sorry.” You mirrored his movements and removed your hand from his knee. 

Wade immediately missed the warmth of your body heat on him. He closed his eyes as he silently cursed himself. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this again, a dull ache in his chest and a pit in his stomach whenever you looked his way or touched him in passing. After Vanessa left, he didn’t want to love someone ever again. But then you just had to walk into his apartment. 

You had been staring at Wade the entire time, your heart breaking for him. While you sat in silence you were racking your brain for a way to cheer him up. 

“Oh, I got a really cute picture of Dogpool earlier!” You chimed up, grabbing your phone off the table and searching for the photo. 

Wade stared at your face while you scrolled through your phone. When you presented the photo to him, he didn’t move his head to look at it. 

“Can I kiss you?” He questioned, voice lower and more serious than you’ve heard it before. 

His question left you stunned, “...Huh?” You were still holding up your phone displaying a picture of Dogpool asleep on her back, tongue hanging out as always. 

“Can I kiss you?” Wade repeated himself. Your heart fluttered and you lowered your phone, “Uhm… yes.” You nodded. 

Wade leaned forward and captured your lips, placing one of his hands on the couch on the other side of you. 

You closed your eyes and leaned into his kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft as you gently moved against them. Wade let go first, leaning away from you to gauge your reaction. 

You looked at him, slightly puzzled, “Why did you stop?” 

“Just making sure I don’t scare you away.” He smirked, but you could tell there was truth hidden in his words. 

You sat up and swung a leg over Wade and straddled his hips and rested your hands on his shoulders.

“You could never.” You whispered to him, inching closer to his face. 

That must have been all he needed to hear, because Wade was grabbing the side of your face and crashing his lips together with yours once again. 

[petrapalerno]

✨Free Monster & Alien Smut✨

Hi, I'm Petra Palerno and write filthy otherworldly smut. I mostly dabble in novels but have recently decided to give erotic shorts a try here and on my patreon.

Pretty much all content on this blog is NSFW. Minors do not engage. For TW/CW check individual stories.

✨MASTER LIST

CURRENT FREE STORY

✨Abducted by Moonlight

A werewolf stalks his newly found human mate in the forest when a ufo abducts them both. What happens when the alien tries to stake a claim on her as well?

TW/CW [a WIP, will be added to]: Stalking, consensual sex, shifting, breaking bones, abduction, aliens, violence.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Like my writing? Support me by reading my other works!

✨Love on the Korlyan Moon

Out now everywhere books are sold

A bubble babe is unknowingly dropped into a mysterious ocean by the Deenz transport ship. Lena, a tattoo artist from the Twin Cities, is sure she's going to die as the bubble she's in sinks deeper and deeper. She's rescued by Kitaico, a color-shifting tentacled alien, and unknowingly takes his mating venom. She must cycle through heats all while trying to resist her attraction to Kitaico.

✨All I Wanted Was Sushi but I got Abducted By Aliens Instead*

Book #1 in the Bubble Babes Series

Opal is trying her best in the Midwest after the sudden death of her parents. Everything comes to a crashing halt as she's abducted by aliens and forced to work as a human dancer for extraterrestrial enjoyment. A chance encounter with an alien prince while stuck in a traffic jam might just change the trajectory of Opal's new life in space.

✨All I Wanted Was To Become A Scientist But Now I've Got An Alien Boyfriend*

Book #2 in the Bubble Babes Series

“Sometimes I think it would have been easier if I hadn’t accepted the free shower at the hot alien’s apartment.”

☆JESSY

For the past few years, my life has kind of blown. On Earth, I dedicated my entire existence to science, even if my peers dismissed me as a pretty face. When I got abducted by aliens, I was forced to dance in a bubble for extra-terrestrial enjoyment.

I can’t get anyone to take me seriously even in space.

When I escaped by crashing my alien captor’s bus, Gra’eth saved me from drowning and even offered me a place to stay. He keeps telling people I’m his mate, even though I keep telling him the human word for what we are is roommates, but he refuses to say it that way. Sometimes I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or serious—and for my very literal neurodivergent brain, that’s a big problem.

☆GRA’ETH

I never expected to have to save Jessy, and I certainly never expected for this strange human to be my mate. Her idea of fun would be to take apart my data pad only to see if she could put it back together again, which sounds like torture to me.

I’ve convinced her to stay in my apartment as what she calls a roommate. The mating bond won’t let me let her leave, but humans can’t even feel it. I don’t know how to keep things friendly when just the smell of her hair is enough to send me into a mating frenzy.

I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, but I can’t keep fighting the pull of this bond. This little speckled human will be the death of me.

✨All I Wanted Was a Glass of Vino but an Alien Duke Kidnapped Me Instead *

Book #3 in the Bubble Babes Series

The Bubble Babe series continues in this standalone novel. 

Will an aquatic alien duke be able to reconcile the fact that his fated mate is a small, mouthy, human woman who can't swim? Will that human be able to love him despite his scars and the fact that he's keeping her captive? 

☆MARTA

The reality of being a mob boss' daughter is anything but glamorous, despite what one might think. In the absence of true freedom, my only companion was my loyal dog, Bruno. When he passed, I felt like my life had hit rock bottom. But when aliens abducted me from my pity party in a local wine bar, I realized how wrong I was. As if things couldn't get any worse, I woke up in an alien duke's closet, forced to rely on a giant alien pleasure toy as my only means of defense. All I know is that the gaudy duke can’t stand me…and the feeling is mutual.

☆RAF’ERE

Throughout my dukedom, I have dedicated myself to restoring the fi'len species to their natural aquatic habitats. How in the goddess's name am I supposed to do that when this human is my mate? Despite her mouthiness, the tiny human cannot swim. Did that stop me from stealing her cryopod from a crashed ship and locking it in my closet? Absolutely not. I also didn’t expect her to wake up and demand answers, either. But I can’t expect my people to look at me to lead if a human stands beside me, despite how much my body burns for hers. The dilemma arises: should I prioritize the goddess's wishes or grant her the freedom she deserves, joining the other human refugees?

This erotic alien romance is part 3 of the Bubble Babes series. It can be read as either a standalone or as a continuation of earlier books. This book features a 5’2” plus sized Italian-American female male character and a 7’6” aquatic alien duke as the male main character. Tropes include Kidnapping, size difference, enemies to loves, reformed playboy, alien romance, fated mates, and forced proximity. This full-length novel (67K words) ends with a HEA.

[chaotickori]

Karasuno's Second Fall - Ch 2:

Rating: T Warnings: Car/Bus Crashes, Major Character Death, Graphic Depiction of Injury, Graphic Depiction of Death, Drowning Word Count: 2.8k AO3 [Ch: 1] ||| [Prev] | [Next]

Tsukishima wakes up in harrowing pain, his body feels like it is on fire, his ribs burn with each press of his heavy lungs. He sits up, a silent cry of pain passing between his lips as he struggles to bring in air. He violently coughs as he is finally able to breathe properly, he closes his eyes so he could focus on breathing before moving on to other things. He opens his eyes again and looks around, everything is blurry, which means he doesn’t have his glasses.

He feels around him hoping to find his glasses but all he can feel is a grainy substance, he looks down to where his hand is. He is surrounded by sand, when he looks around again he realizes that he is on some kind of beach, and it’s dark out, most likely night time. His mind begins to catch up, slow flashes of memories playing in his brain. He remembers the tumbling of the bus down the hill, the loud screams of his teammates. He can vaguely remember seeing Nishinoya being flung out of a window, but that is where his memory cuts out, everything else was muddy. 

He has to fight his brain so that he stays in the moment, he can’t panic, that isn’t going to help anything. He takes a few seconds to take deep breaths and ground himself, once he feels like he isn’t going to break down he begins to inspect his own body. His pain perception is a bit off due to the adrenaline rushing through him but it feels like he may have broken a rib. Though visually he could see that his right arm was mutilated, his shoulder was warped so that it contorted in places that it definitely wasn’t meant to.

That seems to be the worst of the injuries that he has, so he’ll just have to deal with it for now. Now that he has all of that figured out he scans the beach again, this time looking properly, with the small amount of vision he has he makes out the shape of a body laying a couple of feet away. He pushes himself up from the ground with his one good arm, groaning at the pain that lances through his body at movement. He does his best to push through it as he limps over to the person.

His movements are slow but determined, he knows that he has always acted like he hates his teammates but they wormed their way into his heart, and there's a chance one of them may be dead. He pauses in his tracks as that thought washes over him, one of his teammates might be dead . He picks up his pace at that thought, ignoring the pain that intensifies at his rapid movements.

The closer he got the more sure he was that this person did not make it, they were dead. Their body was disfigured, limbs facing directions that they shouldn’t, their waist bent at an angle that was unnatural for the human body. He has to fight the urge to collapse as he stands next to the body, he knows that if he collapses now he won’t be getting back up, and he has to go find the others, there has to be other survivors, oh god please let there be other survivors.  

He moves around the body so that he can hopefully get a clear look at who this is, or was . Tears well up in his eyes but he holds them back as he looks into the cold dead eyes of his best friend. He bends down so that he can close Tadashi’s eye’s, he doesn’t deserve to be found with terror filling his eyes, he deserves to look peaceful, at least in the only way that he can. 

Finally the severity of the situation, and his best friend's condition, hits him, he quickly turns away from the body as he loses the little food that was left in his system from after the match. It made him sick to think that was the way that his friend had to go out, not peacefully and in his sleep, like he deserved, but mangled from a bus crash. He stands up on shaky legs, wipes the bile off of the edge of his mouth before he turns to walk away from the body after one last once over.

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

Not being able to see made it difficult to navigate things, he has been walking for a bit of time, yet he hasn’t come across anything. At this point he can guess that he and Yamaguchi had been launched from the bus, the obvious reason being he didn’t wake up in the bus, the other being that there was somehow no evidence of it in a near radius. But, that wasn’t something that he needed to be focusing on at this moment.

He hears something quiet in the distance so he stops in his tracks trying to listen in closer. He is able to make out what he thinks is sobbing and a muffled voice, quickly he picks up his pace again, walking towards the voices. He attempts to fight through the pain, ignoring the deep ache that flares up in his lungs as he struggles to get the proper amount of air. He stumbles falling onto his knees, unable to catch himself with one arm he falls onto his mangled shoulder.

A pained cry leaves him followed by a fit of coughing as he tries to get air into his lungs. His ears ring as he continues his attempts to breathe properly, he is so occupied with that, that he doesn’t realize when the crying and talking he was hearing came to a stop. He can hear the crunching of sand through the ringing in his ears and then he is being lifted up so that his back is leaned up against a rock. The new position made it easier to get oxygen, the spots that were dancing in his vision begin to clear up.

He is able to make out two silhouette’s standing in front of him, his ears are still ringing so he can’t exactly tell what they’re saying when he sees their mouth move. As the ringing in his ears settles down he is finally able to hear some of what they are saying “...ima can you hear me? Stay with us, we can’t lose you too.” He groans as he brings his hands up to rub his eyes, when he brings them down the two people in front of him are finally in focus, at least as much as they can be without his glasses.

He squints so that he can get a better picture of the two in front of him, his voice is scratchy as he speaks, the difficulty breathing having done a number on them. “I can hear ya, Ennoshita? and Yachi? Is that you guys?” He can see and hear the relieved sigh that Ennoshita releases at the confirmation he wasn’t gonna pass out on them. “Yeah, it’s just the two of us, are you ok?” He gives a halfhearted shrug, hissing as pain shoots through his body at the movement.

Ennoshita reaches out with a panicked look on his face, hands just hovering like he was scared to touch him. Tsukishima lifts up his good hand to wave off his concern, “I’m fine, I’m not the biggest priority right now, It’s just a broken shoulder, and maybe a few broken ribs.” The second year throws his hands around in the air like he doesn’t know what to do, and his voice cracks when he speaks. “That isn’t as ok as you’re trying to make it sound.” 

The middle blocker sneers as he snaps at the others concern “Well I’m at least alive, not like some others whose bodies are mangled, almost past recognition, so, I would say that I. Am. Fine. ” He feels a bit of guilt creep into his consciousness when Yachi flinches at his voice. He looks off to the side and sighs, staring absently out at the ocean “Tadashi is dead, I found his body, it wasn’t pretty.”

He closes his eyes and does his best to ignore the choked sob he hears leave Yachi, he can’t get himself to look at her face. Ennoshita lets out a heavy, sad sigh at the news, a grimace paints his face as he remembers the scene he and Yachi had found. Kiyoko’s body bent over a rock, her torso obviously snapped in half, bones piercing through her skin. He needed to stop thinking about it, because if he thought about it he would puke.

The second year takes a second to gather himself before he talks, “We found Kiyoko, it wasn’t exactly pretty either, but for now we all just need to stick together, ok?” Tsukishima could feel another bit of his life crack away hearing that their team's other manager was dead, it didn’t make it any easier to hold himself together as Yachi began to sob even more.

The middle blocker looks back at Ennoshita, the other looks deeply tired, not just physically but like his soul was tired. He was the oldest of the three of them, which means he was responsible for all of them, and Tsukishima knew that the other could do that, but in this kind of situation, he knew it would take a toll on the other mentally, it would take a toll on anyone mentally.

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

The three of them had moved a little closer to the water, setting up the barest of camps there. They would have stayed farther inland but this is where it was most open, there weren’t as many rocks and almost no bits of glass from the bus. One of their team jackets that had made it through the fall without being torn to complete shreds is configured into a sling for Tsukishima’s arm. Said person is leaned up against a rock, sleeping, at least the best that he can in their current situations.

Yachi is lying next to him curled up with her head in his lap, also attempting to sleep a bit. Ennoshita is looking out at the ocean, periodically looking over at the other two to see if their condition has changed. As he is looking out at the water he thinks he sees something bobbing in the water. As he looks a little closer he starts to make out the shape of a body, before he could get a better look the form went under. Not about to take any chances, since that could be one of their teammates, he jumps up off the ground and runs out towards the water.

He quickly dives in, swimming towards the area that he saw the form go under. When he gets to where he thinks it was he takes a deep breath and pushes himself under the water. His eyes burn as the salty water scrapes at them, he frantically looks around in the dark water until he spots what is definitely a body sinking further down. He uses the little strength that he has to propel himself down, through the water to reach the person.

As he gets closer he reaches out his hand, ignoring the strain in his lungs, once he is close enough he grabs onto the person and begins his rapid ascent back to the top. He breaks through the surface of the water, taking in large gulps of air. When his brain catches up with his surroundings he can hear Yachi calling his name frantically, but he can’t worry about that. He pulls the person in his arms so that their head is above the water, and then begins to swim back to the shore.

When he hits the edge of the beach he stumbles up, pulling the body as far away from the water as he can, back to where the first years are. Once the body is lying there he drops to his knee’s shivers rack his body as his soaked clothes stick to his skin, his breaths come rapidly as he recovers from the panic, and strain of what he just did. He continues to focus on his breathing for a second, finally turning his attention towards the body when he hears Yachi gasp.

Hinata Shoyo was lying right next to him, possibly dead, his chest isn’t rising and there is no indication that he is breathing. Quickly he turns all of his attention towards the orange first year, he puts his ear to the other's mouth, and no breaths are hitting him. At this realization he promptly begins CPR, Yachi and Tsukishima watch next to him in horror as he performs a life saving procedure on their teammate. 

He fights off the bile that rises up his throat as he feels Hinata’s ribs crack under his hands. He continues for a few more minutes until finally his head falls to the side, water escaping out of his mouth with each contraction of his chest, Ennoshita stops the compressions as he watches the others chest begin to rise and fall on its own. He lays his head on Hinata’s chest, letting out a few grateful sobs, none of this feeling real. He felt Yachi’s arms around him, her head buried into his shoulder as she sobbed.

He lets out a few shaky breaths before sitting back up, he runs his fingers through Yachi’s hair before looking over at Tsukishima. The blonde’s eyebrows are furrowed as he stares at the short spikers limb body. Ennoshita goes to stand up to move towards the tall first year, but there is a heavy weight on his arm. He looks down to see that Yachi had fallen back asleep, he delicately pulls her off of him, laying her next to Hinata, who she quickly clings onto.

He smiles just the slightest bit at the scene, once he is sure that they are settled he stands up, moving to sit next to Tsukishima. He lets the two of them sit in silence for a bit before he speaks up “What’s on your mind?” The lanky first year glances over at him for a second before looking back over at the other first years. “Why us? Fate could have done this to truly anyone, but it chose us, Why?”

He lets his head fall back to rest against the rock as he answers, “I don’t know, and we probably will never know, but there could be various reasons. It could be that it believed everything was going too well for us, we made it to nationals for christ's sake, so it wanted to even out the score. It could have been out of spite, but we will most likely never know its intentions.” 

It probably wasn’t the answer the first year was looking for, but it was what caused him to break. Ennoshita keeps his eyes on the sky as he hears the other start crying, tears choking up his words. “I lost my best friend today, and we’ll probably lose many of the others, how are we meant to go on from this? I may never be able to play again , and I doubt Shoyo will just be able to bounce back from that .” His voice breaks after the question, and with his good arm he gestures between Hinata and the ocean when he talks about him.

Ennoshita bumps their good shoulders together, hoping to be able to comfort his teammate, even in this rough situation. “I can’t really answer your questions or concerns, but I know that if anything, we will all try to get through this together, for now, you should try to rest a bit, I’ll stay awake to keep an eye on everyone.” He can see that the other is about to protest but he cuts him off, “I'm fine, I don’t even think I could try to sleep right now, I’m too wound up.” Tsukishima lets out a quiet huff before he readjusts himself against the rock, letting his eyes slip shut.

Ennoshita sighs as he looks out at the ocean, watching as the current makes small waves that lap against the sand. Time passes as he looks out at the water, slowly the sun begins to rise off in the distance, lighting up the edges of the horizon. If it was any other situation he would actually be able to admire the beauty of it. 

He is broken out of his musings when he feels the weight of a hand on his shoulder. His brain reacts on a fear instinct as he is so on edge, his hands fly up to grab the wrist of the person, twisting and flipping them over himself onto the sand in front of him. The quick movements wake up Tsukishima next to him, but he doesn’t notice that, he is still focused on the form of the person he just flipped.

[kentocidal]

10:34PM || SAWAMURA DAICHI

users: sawamura daichi x fem!afab!reader

cws: marathon sex. daddy kink. dacryphilia. size kink. prone bone. use of stoplight system check-in. selfship coded.

from the program: whoops.

daichi sawamura has a lot of energy. he used to be an athlete, now working in a high-intensity position as a firefighter. his body, though not as lean as it used to be back in high school, is still muscular and well built. he moves like water, adrenaline on high when his phone pings and he gets up from the dinner table to rush to a fire call. despite being older now, he still contains that boyish energy, a part of him that takes a long time to extinguish. he does not get tired easily.

this directly translates into his sex life with you.

daichi holds you up by your hips and fucks into you with a fervor that should be incriminating. his cock is thick and hefty in comparison to his average length. you feel like you’re ripping in half every time the tip of his cock presses into your g-spot and fills you to the brim.

his balls slap against your twitching clit, overstimulation having already been pushed through your veins as he works you towards another orgasm. he can feel it in the way your thighs shake and your cunt clenches around the length of his cock, and he sucks in pants through his gritted teeth.

“c’mon baby, again, do it again for me.”

you’d already cum once, a frothy ring making the bedroom fill with wet sounds as his cock gets coated in your spend. he didn’t stop, and he clearly won’t, not until he’s satisfied and you’re fucked out of your mind.

“daddy-!” you cry into your pillows with a half-sob, nails curling into the sheets so hard you fear you might tear the fabric. he’d assured you, once, that he bought high thread count sheets so you could claw at them and they’d never rip. or maybe he was finding excuses to spoil you, since you always denied his attempts to do so.

you felt the telltale sign of your impending orgasm suddenly start spreading through your stomach, and you gasped before letting out a guttural moan as your high crashed into you like a bus. you shook, knees giving out from under you. daichi was there to keep his cock buried deep in your convulsing cunt by wrapping a thick arm around your waist, groaning from the feeling of you around him.

“thaaat’s it, babygirl. that’s daddy’s good girl, perfect. much better.”

your blood roared in your ears as he slowly lowered your body down to the mattress, your sheets feeling damp to the touch. it was probably from how sweaty you both were, not that you had the capacity to care after the mind-numbing orgasm you just had.

you heard the sniffles before you felt them, the wet tracks of tears starting to cool against your cheeks. you weren’t sad, far from it, and yet your body was reacting to the strong wave of emotion and feeling.

“daddy,” you whined out, dragging out the ‘y’ at the end, and daichi groaned low in his throat.

you felt his cock jump in your heat, still buried deep, and it made you whimper loudly.

“you okay baby? you crying over daddy’s cock?”

“i-…” you couldn’t find words, not when daichi was suddenly laying over your back and planting the balls of his feet on the mattress. his one hand found the back of yours and slotted his fingers between your own, holding your hand down to the pillows; the other shifted to swipe your tears away with his thumb.

“color?”

“g-green,” you hiccuped, and you almost immediately felt the slow drag of daichi’s cock pulling back before bullying its way back in. you punched out a warbled moan; he had you flat against the mattress, humping into you like a man starved. he was so big — he felt like a weighted blanket over your back and it made you almost feel tiny in comparison to his broad shoulders and softened stomach.

he still hadn’t cum.

“again. just one more. again.”

it would not be just one more. you prayed it wouldn’t be just one more.

[cypressvs]

CRACKS IN BLACKOUT BLINDS PT. 1

pairing: childe/gn!reader, diluc/gn!reader, zhongli/gn!reader (separate)

cw: (all) established sexual relationships, kind of toxic college romance au, usage of an unspecified hole, it's a little sad before it becomes very horny, (childe) childhood friends to lovers, long distance relationship, college parties, alcohol, public sex, cunnilingus/rimming, creampie, unprotected sex, riding, (diluc) exes to fwb to lovers, body worship, implied m!masturbation, biting, marking, p!penetration, multiple rounds, (zhongli) p!penetration, grinding, implied ddlg relationship, reader is unhealthily dependent to zhongli and zhongli encourages it

wc: 1.3k, 400~ each | join the taglist

minors do not interact

CHILDE is too much and too little at the same time. Summertime of '12, and he's sneaking into your room and helping you get out of your house through your window when you shouldn't be anything but asleep. He's laughing wildly as he tugs you by the wrist, running the streets of your childhood place that you and he rule over. It's the simpler days when all you have to worry about is helping him finish the Lego set his mother bought him in a neighborhood garage sale. Sometimes you look back and you miss it and you regret that you grew up and that you allowed him to kiss you goodbye at the bus stop—on the lips and certainly not the friendly kind with mumbled promises of how he'll call and it's only four years and nothing will change. You regret believing his promises and visiting him at his dorm a few towns over and letting him drag you by the wrist like when you were kids as you crash a college party. You knew no one but knowing no one was the best because it's easy to disappear in the crowd of dancing bodies and half-crazy drunks. The red plastic cup that got handed to you was suddenly heavier and not even Childe's tongue licking and circling over your hole as you leaned your head back at the bathroom's tiled wall was enough to forget it. This isn't your world. This isn't the streets you once reigned. This wasn't you and him in a disillusioned childhood game. You let the alcohol slide down your throat, a burning tracing over your insides that makes your cry out of both pain and pleasure. There's a needy moan resting on your tongue and you shove it into his mouth as you dragged him up by his hair. There's a fucked out smile on his face when you part and he's suddenly rubbing the tip of his cock over your needy hole. You leave the party that night more sober than you are drunk, returned home the next day more worn and tired than when you left and missing the warmth of his cum inside you. Three months later and this time it was his turn to come to your place and he climbs up your room through the window like when you were kids but this time, you don't let him take you places. You grip him by his collar and lead him to a sloppy kiss, more teeth and tongue like you were once again inexperienced teenagers but you're rutting and grinding at each other like the horny college kids you were. It's messy but inside of the walls of your childhood home, in the familiar white noise of your childhood streets, you are at home. This is your world. This is where you rule and as you sink into his cock, all was right once again.

Sweet, tender DILUC once loved like a tourist in the Louvre and you—eighteen and no different from a cherub taking its first flight in uni—were a gilded masterpiece hung on the museum's walls. He observes, perceives, admires but never crosses the boundaries that separated life from art. He reaches out but pulls back; an unrivaled emotional constipation that could not be healed by heated touches on your bare skin and messy pants uttered to your swollen lips like a prayer. Sweet, tender Diluc broke your heart when you were eighteen in your messy room that still smelled like the afterglow of sex. Years later, you meet him again in the dark, eyes finding each other despite the sweaty bodies that grinded and mingled under neon lights. He's gone weary and tired from whatever success he found outside of your mundane college days but he still looks at you the same. You were a masterpiece, and as you lay under him to add onto your mighty list of drunken mistakes, you realize that Diluc loves the same—only now as he traced over the scars and bumps that he remembers too well to be considered innocent, you think that he's outgrown the running and the chasing, maturing into a curator that could only love you more and more as time goes on. His scarred hands squeeze at the flesh of your thighs as he bites and sucks at your skin. You shouldn't have let him, he was just another passing face for your lonely nights and had no right to possess you after all these years but as he pumps into your hole with groaned out professions in reverie, art spills into life and you start to crave once more the sweet and tender and innocent bliss of being so adored that it scares you and him both. It's scary how you let him take your phone the day after, how you let him punch no longer familiar numbers into it once again, how you picked up your clothes only to drop them as he fucks you against his vanity. However, above all things, it's the scariest how you're all too eager to let him, ringing him up every Fridays for a supposed to be quick fuck that always ends with philosophical pillowtalk and unfunny jokes from you and adoring smiles from him, and cooking him breakfast every Saturdays before shooing him off with a "come back soon" instead of whatever you're supposed to be saying to no strings attached fuck buddies.

ZHONGLI is—and as boring and overused the term was nowadays—an old soul. He prefers his drinks darker and mostly bitter, only having aftertones of sweetness that were never inauthentic to the source material. He likes old bands and vinyls and hand-me-down books that were littered with annotations of the soul from a random stranger he'd never come across again in his lifetime. He passes his classes with ease as if he's learned the lessons over and over again. Essentially, he exudes a maturity and sense of responsibility that makes you shrink on yourself. Whether he's sliding his hands down your arms as he looked over your shoulder to supervise your essay-writing or when he's holding your thighs open in bed as he pumped his thick cock into you with the slow and deep cadence he favors, Zhongli makes it hard to stay true to your childish, irrational wishes. You stopped buying candies because sugar is bad for you; stopped going to arcades because what's the point? There's an unspoken expectation that you need to fulfill, a silent pressure that holds you hostage at the face of encroaching adulthood. If Zhongli can, why can't you? If Zhongli is, why aren't you? He never says anything, only taking whatever it is from your hand and doing it for you. He means well but it always leaves you hanging on the deep end where the contrast of how big he is in comparison to how little you were in this similarly larger than life world. You've talked to him about it—briefly and not quite what you would've said in hindsight after you replayed the conversation in your head over and over again—but he had only chuckled in that deep, 80s charm and drawl that he always does when he found you endearing. He said he doesn't mind, maybe even prefers it when you cling to him and seek him for the minute details. Lives for it even when you whimper as his throbbing member turned you brainless, your walls wrapping and subconsciously remembering his shape and how good he makes you feel as he grinds against your pelvis. He never fails to give you that stare, dark and indecipherable but he tells you that you've been good and that you shouldn't worry about anything else because you have him to rely on and who are you to question that when all the young souls you've been with never made you feel as good as Zhongli did? You don't think being so small was so bad if it meant being tenderly taken care of by him.

© 2023 CYPRESSVS. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms.

[thetomorrowshow]

intruder

backstory of why jimmy and scott moved out of the super neighborhood in my empires superpowers au!

cw: murder (in SELF-DEFENSE) of an unnamed character, blood/violence, like a decent bit of it, injury, dissociation

~

Scott’s been missing for two days.

Scott’s been missing for two days, and Jimmy isn’t going to wait around doing nothing.

The news had come in the form of a knock on the front door, around 3pm on the first day. Jimmy doesn’t officially live at Scott’s house, but he spends a fair amount of time there, and now he pushes back from the kitchen table and heads to the front door, snapping on the mask that hangs on a hook by the entrance.

“Oh, hi, TJ!” Blossom says when he opens the door to find her on the step, flowers actively winding around in her hair. “Is Major around?”

Jimmy frowns, checks his watch. “Um, he left for work this morning, around eight? He shouldn’t be back until four, at the earliest.”

Why would Blossom be asking him this? Don’t they all have some sort of hero group chat?

“Are you sure?” Blossom’s smile drops. “Did he say he was headed somewhere else?”

“Just to work,” says Jimmy. “Why? What’s up?”

 Blossom bites her lip, the flowers in her hair wilting. “He never showed,” she says. “He isn’t responding to messages.”

That’s enough for Jimmy to shut the door and run back to the table, grabbing his cell phone. Then he returns, pulling it open again. Blossom is still there, looking a little surprised.

Jimmy pulls up his contacts, clicks on the one labeled ‘scott :) - super’ and hits call.

“You’ve reached Major, I’m probably winning a battle right now. Send me a text and I’ll get back to you when I have a moment.”

Straight to voicemail.

That can’t be good.

“Try the Mad King,” Jimmy tells her. “I’m still working until four, but keep me updated. Do you have my number?”

But Blossom never texts him any news.

And Joel tells him, that night, that Scott’s officially missing, and they’re moving Jimmy to a safehouse.

So it isn’t even 8pm when Jimmy finds himself in a small apartment downtown, the dim light of the setting sun half-illuminating the single room.

And Jimmy stays there all night, staring at his phone, as his worry crescendos over and over again, blowing out lightbulbs and spoiling food can by can.

They still haven’t found him in the morning.

Jimmy can do nothing but sit, alone, in this cheap, unused apartment of Joel’s, waiting for some message that his boyfriend has been found.

But there’s nothing, and Jimmy isn’t going to wait around doing nothing when Scott could be getting tortured right now.

Because that’s it, really. When Jimmy went missing, it was because some horrid, insane villain kidnapped him and ran experiments on him and treated him like an animal—

One of the blades on the floor fan comes off, crashing to the bottom of the fan cage.

Jimmy takes a deep breath.

He can’t continue to sit here on the ragged carpet (because there’s no furniture other than a single folding chair and a mattress) while Scott could be going through the exact same things that he had been subjected to.

Or worse, he thinks, pushing back a sickening memory.

So Jimmy packs up his little backpack that he hasn’t actually unpacked yet except to get his toothbrush, grabs the mask he’d left on the kitchen counter (which he balls up and shoves in the pocket of his jeans), and leaves, ready to find Scott.

Where does Scott usually go first?

He covers all of the city, but rarely ventures away from the most densely populated areas. Downtown is one of his favorites to frequent, as well as the pier.

Good thing Jimmy knows downtown like the back of his hand.

He catches the bus like it’s second nature, the schedule practically tattooed on the inside of his eyelids (despite the fact that he rarely rode the bus for fear of causing an accident. He learned it in case anyone ever asked him the bus schedule). He hasn’t spent much time out and about on his own, but he can get around and he’s lived with Lizzie long enough to know how to go somewhere by himself. That doesn’t mean he isn’t careful: he sits at the back of the bus with his back pressed against the window and watches everyone, careful to sort them into threat categories and keep tabs on everyone.

It’s exhausting. It always is.

It isn’t long at all before he leaves the bus at one of Scott’s favorite places—right across the way from the elementary school. Scott heads here first thing most mornings, keeping an eye on the children as they arrive at school.

The mask is scrunched uncomfortably in Jimmy’s pocket. He wishes he could put it on. He hates going out in public—not without at least a baseball cap.

It feels like everyone at this park is watching him.

Any of them could be in league with whoever took Scott. Any of them could have been one of the thugs that worked for Xornoth. Any of them could be someone he hurt in the past.

Every time someone walks past him, Jimmy automatically tenses. That woman could attack him. That man could crush his skull. That child could be a distraction. That man could grab him and pull him into an alley.

Jimmy shoves his hands in his hoodie’s pocket so that he doesn’t have to look at how they tremble. This is why he doesn’t go places alone. This is why he works from home right now.

This is why people need to not get kidnapped. Specifically the people that can help him not panic about being kidnapped.

Right, now, does he usually patrol around the school? Or just wait out front and watch the kids go in?

If he was Scott, what would he do?

Scott would probably patrol. He likes to be moving, likes to show off his skills.

So Jimmy hikes out of the park and crosses the road to the school, following the sidewalk all around the building.

On one side is an alley between some run-down apartments, and Jimmy passes through, keeping a close eye on anything out of place. Any knocked-over trash cans, any smears of dirt or dried blood on buildings, anything that could be the signs of a struggle.

He feels more and more anxious the further down he goes, swallowing back the thrumming of his power within him, the scar at the base of his skull burning.

He can’t cause an accident here. He's next to an elementary school, he can’t risk it.

Can he?

What accidents can he cause here?

Jimmy’s never really reached out with his powers before on purpose—not in a long time, not in a searching way.

But his powers can cause terrible things to happen, things as far away as inside the school, and if his power can know that there’s things that far away to ruin, then can’t he know, too?

So he reaches out into the surrounding buildings.

There are a lot of people here.

That’s the first thing he feels.

There’s hundreds of children in the school, and one of these buildings is an apartment complex, and Jimmy can’t see them or even really sense them? He just . . . knows that they’re there, in some kind of . . . sixth sense?

There are so many other things that he knows are there, but can’t verbalize. He simply knows, to an overwhelming degree, the contents of everything around and maybe there’s a reason he’s never done this before because he thinks he’s going to be sick—

“TJ!”

Jimmy flinches, hears something crash in the distance. He wheels around—this could be it this is the moment he’s kidnapped—, only to find fWhip standing at the mouth of the alley.

“Why are you out and about?” fWhip asks, moseying over, hands in his pockets. “Don’t you usually stay home from the cool parties?”

Right. He knows fWhip. Kind of. fWhip is nice, right? He helped save him.

Jimmy isn’t wearing his mask. Which is fine. It’s fine to not be wearing it, because fWhip recognized him anyways and his secret identity isn’t contingent on a mask anymore.

“Um, I’m looking for Major,” he says, head still spinning a bit. “He usually goes here every morning, and nobody saw him for his whole shift, so if he got kidnapped it was probably near—”

“Wait, Major’s missing?”

Jimmy frowns. “Yeah, did you not hear? He disappeared yesterday.”

fWhip checks over his shoulder, adjusts his goggles. “Okay. Not good. And if Major’s missing, why aren’t you in a safehouse?”

“Well, I was,” Jinmy says, looking down at his feet. How has he been caught already? He just barely left!

“But you couldn’t stick around when Major could be . . . being tortured?” guesses fWhip.

Jimmy shifts uncomfortably. “Yeah,” he says dejectedly. “But I can go back. The Mad King would—”

“Nah, don’t do that. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to. Do you need help looking?”

And before Jimmy can so much as process what he’s said, fWhip is reaching up to the window in the building beside them, testing the latch and finding it open.

“Let’s check out this place,” he suggests, shoving the window open and grabbing the sill, pushing himself up and into the window in an impressive show of upper-body strength.

Jimmy blinks.

He didn’t expect to be joined in his search.

Let alone by fWhip.

“Okay, nobody’s here,” fWhip calls out the window. “You coming?”

“Is there a door?” Jimmy asks halfheartedly.

fWhip shrugs.

Jimmy sighs, grips the windowsill (a bit lower for him than it had been for fWhip), and heaves himself up, legs kicking for purchase on the wall and arms trembling under his weight.

He falls back once, arm scraping a bit against the sill, then manages to pull himself up the second time, his ribcage pressed in painfully against the windowsill, where he hangs for a moment before tipping over and landing in a heap on the other side.

“Try to roll when you come in,” fWhip advises as Jimmy picks himself up. “It’s easier. And way more cool.”

“I’ll remember that,” Jimmy grumbles, brushing the copious streaks of dust off his hoodie.

“So we’re looking at an abandoned first floor of some office building, I think,” fWhip says, flipping a switch on his goggles. “See anything?”

Jimmy looks around. It’s a fairly large space, the concrete ground scarred by the torn-up carpet (some of which still lies in an awkward heap against a wall), a single dead office chair sitting in the middle of the room. Otherwise, there’s some brightly-colored papers in a corner, and—

The front door slams open.

“TJ,” comes a suspicious and familiar voice.

The Mad King is standing in the doorway.

“Rats,” fWhip says, frowning. “Did you follow me?”

“You and Mythics are always up to no good,” Joel tells him dismissively, before turning back to Jimmy, arms crossed. “Why are you here?”

“Um . . . looking for Major?” Jimmy tries.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “With fWhip? Come on, TJ, if you were going to break house arrest it should’ve been with someone respectable.”

“Hey!”

“Come on, back to the safehouse.”

“But—”

“TJ,” Joel says firmly. “We aren’t arguing about this. I’ll keep looking for Major, yeah? You need—”

“But I, I can help!” Jimmy insists. This isn’t fair, he shouldn’t be locked up when his boyfriend could be going through the worst experiences of his life—

“Jimmy,” Joel grits out. fWhip makes a ‘yikes’ face, turns to start going through the neon papers in the corner.

“Since Major has been kidnapped, they will want to get the people he cares about the most—you,” Joel stresses. “They will want to hurt you to get him to give up whatever information they’re looking for. That’s why—”

“I know, I know, but I can defend myself,” argues Jimmy. “It’s—it’s Sc—I mean, it’s Major. I have to help. And I know—”

“You’re helping by staying safe,” says Joel. “I’m not arguing about this, okay?”

“Who would have a bake sale and then put the signs in an abandoned building?” fWhip murmurs, examining one of the said signs.

Which is stupid.

This is stupid.

How does Joel expect him to just sit there?

How can he tell Jimmy to go hide and let Scott get hurt?

But there’s no point in fighting this.

“Maybe there’s some way you can help from the apartment, okay?” Joel says placatingly, and Jimmy rolls his eyes.

“Sure. Fine, take me back, officer.”

“Don’t get an attitude with me, young man,” Joel warns, sputtering jokingly, but Jimmy’s stomach squirms just the slightest bit.

He’s not a child.

“fWhip, I’ll be back here in half an hour, okay?” Joel says. “Let me know if you find anything.”

Then he strides out the door, Jimmy reluctantly following along behind.

-

Joel finds Scott the next day.

It’s a small place, a closed mechanic shop, near the East side of the city, where this particular gang of villains decided to keep him.

Joel finds him by checking the security footage of the elementary school. He sees, in the corner of one of the cameras, a couple of neon signs hanging on the side of the building fWhip and Jimmy had broken into.

Backing it up a little bit, Joel finds the car that carried the people who hung up the signs (something they did several hours before dawn).

And when he tracks down that car, he finds Scott.

Jimmy receives the text that Scott’s been found and instantly calls Lizzie, begging her for a ride home. Lizzie agrees, and when Joel and Scott come through the front door, Jimmy is there waiting, a frozen pizza in the oven.

Jimmy drops everything, his stress releasing in a little burst of power that crashes his phone and knocks all the cushions off the sofa, hurrying toward Scott.

Scott looks absolutely exhausted. His suit is torn here and there, his hair tangled and greasy, his eyelids drooping. But he gives Jimmy a small smile and acquiesces to a gentle hug.

“Glad you’re safe,” Scott murmurs. “I was worried.”

Jimmy chuckles, pitched a little high with nerves. “You were worried? Imagine my state!”

Scott pulls away, plants a small kiss on Jimmy’s lips before tugging off his mask, mouth twisting in a grimace.

There’s a large bruise on his cheek, and a small line of them down his jaw, but he otherwise doesn’t seem to be in very bad condition. Still, Jimmy frets, hands twisting anxiously.

“Where are you hurt? Do you need to get checked out? You really should go to the hospital, just in—”

“I’m fine,” Scott cuts him off. “Just some bruises. It’s all right.”

Even so, Scott stands there patiently, as Jimmy takes in every part of him.

He seems to be telling the truth. Nothing looks broken or like it’s bleeding too badly. He’s holding himself a little gingerly, though, that could be a broken rib—

Jimmy prods at his chest and Scott steps back, hands over himself.

“It’s not broken,” Scott says, teeth gritted. “Joel already tried it. Just a deep bruise.”

“Probably the worst kidnappers I’ve ever seen,” Joel calls from the kitchen, where he’d gone after pushing past the two of them in the hall. “Didn’t even know how to torture him properly.”

Torture? “Scott, I’m so sorry—do you need anything? Should I schedule you a therapy appointment?”

Scott bursts out laughing. “Thank you, baby,” he says. “I’m fine. I promise. Just tired.”

“And an idiot,” adds Joel. “How’d you manage to get kidnapped by such an incompetent lot?”

“Their signs said homemade croissants,” Scott moans, walking into the kitchen as if nothing ever happened (though his arm is still wrapped around his ribs). “You know I love supporting small local businesses.”

“’Twas your downfall,” Joel intones, snickering. “Sorry, mate.”

Jimmy follows awkwardly, not entirely sure how to behave.

Scott’s . . . fine?

He hadn’t even considered that as an outcome. He hadn’t dared to think that Scott might return without severe injuries, without being traumatized by the torture and greatly needing help returning to the real world.

Like Jimmy had been.

He doesn’t know what he can even do.

How can he help Scott when Scott doesn’t need help?

So Jimmy just kind of hovers, near Scott, as he sits there and eats pizza and jokes a little with Joel.

Then Scott leaves to go shower, and Joel shoots Jimmy a sympathetic smile.

“He’s fine,” Joel assures him. “He may be a bit clumsy for a while—his hands were zip-tied pretty tightly together—but he’s really fine.”

It’s hard to believe him.

But Jimmy just nods and resolves to not treat Scott strangely. He’s fine, after all.

If he’s fine, then so is Jimmy.

-

That night, there’s something wrong.

Jimmy wakes up quite suddenly, the odd sixth sense that he’d probed at the other day ringing with the notice that something is off.

He doesn’t know what. He doesn’t know what’s changed in their surroundings, but he knows that it’s not quite right and he needs to be aware of it.

Jimmy blinks open his eyes, glances over to Scott to reassure himself that his partner is safely there.

And leaning over Scott, a knife gleaming in their hand and poised above Scott’s chest, is a person dressed in black.

Jimmy reacts immediately.

He dives over Scott, knocking the man’s arm just as he sinks the knife down—Scott wakes with a cry of pain, the knife carving a jagged line in his chest and up his shoulder as the man is knocked off course.

Jimmy rolls off of Scott, faces the intruder for a brief second.

The intruder spits out a curse, then barrels into Jimmy, brandishing his knife.

Jimmy moves on instinct. He grapples with the man, twists his wrist with the knife—the man slashes at him, but Jimmy twists further until his grip loosens on the hilt, and then he takes the knife.

He spent hours and days and weeks training with Xornoth in knife work and he knows exactly how to attack to injure, which spots are the most painful without being fatal. He stabs the knife into the attacker’s upper arm, then into his side when he howls and twists away, and Jimmy can’t help but show off a bit as he flips the knife to his other hand and drives it into the man’s knee.

The intruder falls to his knees, and Jimmy’s head is pounding with the adrenaline, and he can’t move his focus from taking this man out entirely because he tried to kill Scott—

Jimmy spins around to be behind the man, hands on his throat—the man grabs at his wrists, nails scrabbling against his skin—and sends a burst of power out.

Under his sweaty palms, knife still tucked between the fingers of his right hand, Jimmy feels the man’s neck break. Not just the bone: his vocal cords snap—his muscles fall loose—his throat collapses, and so does the man, falling heavily to the carpet.

Jimmy stands there, panting.

Scott wheezes in pain.

Jimmy fumbles on the bedside table, grabs Scott’s hero phone with fingers slick with blood. He presses the emergency button on the side, holds it down for a solid five seconds.

Then he drops it back on the table, opens one of the drawers to pull out Scott’s mask.

“Jimmy,” Scott gasps, sitting up, clutching his arm over the slash in his shirt. “Are—are you okay?”

Jimmy nods, then he clicks on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in low, yellow light, and surveys Scott.

There’s a sheen of sweat over Scott’s bruised face, his eyes pained and confused (and concerned, and very very worried), but Jimmy barely registers that as his eyes find the wound.

His nightshirt is soaked in blood, spreading out from the slash, and it only takes one glance at the wound for Jimmy to know that it needs a professional to take a look at it. He doesn’t know near enough about injuries to know anything other than that it looks bad.

He leans over Scott (Scott flinches back) and pulls the mask over his face, carefully holding the knife pointed away from him. His hair catches a bit in the eyeholes and Jimmy doesn’t do anything about it.

"Major?" calls a voice from below, and Jimmy spins around, knife held out, as he hears the stairs creak with running footsteps. Was there back-up? No matter. There won’t be, soon.

A pajama-clad Blossom pushes open the door from where it's half-open (Scott always closes the door when they go to bed), her hands flying to her mouth when she takes in the scene. "Oh my gosh—Major, TJ, what happened? Should I call an ambulance? I'll call one—"

"Hello? Is everything okay?"

More footsteps, then Gem appears, mask pulled over tangled hair.

"Hi, we need an ambulance—the address—"

"What happened?" Gem says, echoing Blossom's words as Blossom turns away, one hand covering the ear not pressed to her phone.

Scott pushes himself up further, grimacing. "Intruder," he manages, nodding toward the body on the floor. Gem glances at it, before her eyes fix on Jimmy.

"TJ, sit down—where are you hurt? Where do you guys keep your first aid kit?"

"It's not my blood," Jimmy says, his voice too loud in his ears. He gestures with the knife toward the motionless body, the neck appearing kind of . . . squashed. "I'm fine. Check Major."

"Shoot, the attacker," Gem mutters. "Blossom, tell them that there's two or three people that need—"

"He's dead," Jimmy interrupts. "Don't worry about him. Check Major."

Gem blinks.

Meets Jimmy's eyes.

"Okay," she says after a moment. "I'll check Major. Did you kill him?"

Jimmy swallows.

"He was attacking us," he says stiffly. "He stabbed Major. I acted in self-defense."

Gem moves around and climbs onto Jimmy's empty side of the bed, still keeping an eye on him even as she checks out Scott, pulling away his shirt and asking quiet questions (to which Scott responds, his breath shallow and words faltering).

"The ambulance should be here soon," Blossom says, moving toward the foot of the bed. "TJ, you're covered in blood—set that knife down, let me help you."

"It's not my blood," Jimmy says again. "I'm fine."

"Okay, then—"

"You help Major," Gem says, slipping off the bed and coming back over. "I'll help TJ wash up. C'mon."

Numbly, Jimmy follows her out of the room, checking over his shoulder to make sure Scott is okay. Scott waves him on with the hand that isn’t held to his chest, and Jimmy continues down the hall, into the bathroom.

"We'll have to make this quick," Gem says. "Sit down. And give me that knife."

Jimmy doesn't want to give her the knife. He pulls it back to his chest when she reaches for it, thumbs the blade protectively.

"I need the knife to give it to Major, so that when the police get here we can have a convincing story without you in it. Make sense?"

After considering, Jimmy nods. It makes sense.

And that means he needs to not be here.

He hands over the knife. "I killed him," he says. "If they ask, Major stabbed him three times. Then he fell and broke his neck."

Gem shakes her head. "Okay. Wow. Okay. You know we don't normally kill people, right? Never mind. I'll go give this to Major."

Jimmy glances in the mirror as she steps past. There's blood spattered across his face, more in splashes on his nightshirt and shorts and arms. His eyes, cold and wide, peer back at him out of his pale face.

He needs to get out of here.

Gem returns after two or three minutes, handing Jimmy a jacket (one of Scott’s, he distantly notices).

"Zip that up over the blood, rinse off your hands, and let's go," she says. "We'll head to my place. Blossom will ride with Major in the ambulance. It doesn't look too bad, so he should be okay."

Jimmy obeys, letting Gem turn on the water so he can stick his hands under the cold spray.

For a moment, he's back there—just trying to scrub the blood off his hands from his first intentional murder in the sink with the broken handle.

Then he blinks, looking down at the sink, at the red running off his hands.

"Good enough. Let's go."

-

Joel joins them in Gem's dark kitchen after about two hours, stripping off a pair of gloves. He's fully dressed in his supersuit, his hair unbrushed and his posture stooped, looking more exhausted than ever.

"Gem, you have anything caffeinated?" Joel asks, opening a cupboard.

"Yeah, there's a pot of coffee already made. Mugs are in the left cupboard."

Jimmy watches as Joel finds a mug, fills it up with coffee, and then takes a swig of it black.

"Thanks," he says, face scrunching up at the taste. Joel doesn't like black coffee. Jimmy knows that. He always adds cream and sugar.

"Major's okay," Joel informs them, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table to sit across from them.

Jimmy's been here more or less in silence for the past hour and a half, staring at the wooden table. When they'd first come in, Gem had sent him to wash his hands and arms and face better than he had before, but there's nothing they can do about his sleepclothes, so he's just been sitting here in a blood-spattered t-shirt for a while. Gem had joined him after pulling a hoodie over her pajamas and starting the coffee maker, and has since sat beside him, working on a crossword puzzle.

"Major's okay, he and Blossom are at the hospital now. The intruder was pronounced dead on site. Major identified him as one of the men who kidnapped him."

Jimmy doesn't feel anything.

No sense of satisfaction at knowing that the man truly deserved it, no fear at how close they had been to getting killed, no guilt for his actions.

Nothing.

"TJ," Joel says hesitantly, "how are you doing?"

Jimmy shrugs.

He's still covered in the blood of the man he murdered.

"They say killing is like riding a bike," Jimmy says after a long pause. "You never quite forget how to do it."

Gem sighs. Joel winces.

"Right. Well, we don't really kill people, as a general rule. It's kind of, like, against the law."

The law.

As if the law applies to heroes and villains.

Jimmy's not really sure which one he is right now.

Neither, probably. Which means the law should apply to him, even if it hasn’t stuck in the past.

"I've never really been one to follow the law," Jimmy says.

"Sure, but as a person—"

He isn't a person. If anything was to prove that fact, it would be tonight. He hadn’t thought, he’d just acted, and even now the first feeling that he can even register is the feeling of not feeling. He isn’t a person.

He's a weapon.

He's a pet.

That's the word that triggers his therapy brain.

"I'm in a bad headspace," Jimmy interrupts Joel, using words that he'd rehearsed with Nora. "I don't feel like a person right now. I might be dissociating."

"We have to talk about this," Joel insists. "We can't run away from hard conversations—"

"I promised I would never kill again," Jimmy whispers, and, ah. There’s the panic. Detached and not quite real, but panic nonetheless. "I can't escape it. I'm not—I can't. I'm a weapon, I was made to be a weapon, I—"

"Stop that right now," says Joel firmly. "You are a person, and you just saved someone from being killed. It was self-defense, not mindless."

Jimmy almost laughs, because to some extent, it was mindless. He acted entirely on instinct, following the training Xornoth had given him, whether or not it was self-defense.

He doesn't like hurting people.

He never wanted to go back to being a villain.

It's not even that he's upset about killing that specific man. Screw that man, he tried to kill his boyfriend.

He's really just afraid that now that he's killed one person, he'll keep doing it. It isn’t like anyone can stop him. Nobody can stop him, not even himself, and he wouldn’t even care if his current state has anything to say about it.

"TJ," Gem says carefully, "why did you kill that man?"

Jimmy frowns. Why? "To protect Major."

"Do you have any desire to kill people outside of defense?"

Does he?

He's never had the desire to kill.

Not even when he was getting rewarded for it. Killing was something he did to survive, to escape severe punishment, or accidentally.

And here, he killed to protect. To save his boyfriend. He didn't get any satisfaction out of it. He certainly didn't enjoy it. He doesn't want to do it again.

That cuts through the foggy panic in his mind, the fear that he might keep going, that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

"No," he says, then stronger, "no. I never want to kill. I hate it. I only do it when I have to."

Joel lets out a breath of relief. "Thank goodness. Okay, next issue. You and Major clearly aren't safe here. Do you want to try to stick it out, or should we start moving you two as soon as possible?"

Jimmy hadn't even thought about it.

Of course they aren't safe here—he hadn't been safe alone, when Scott was kidnapped and he had to be moved to the safehouse. Why did he think that things would magically change just because Scott was here? Every villain in the city knows where they live. The rest of the gang that kidnapped Scott could show up on their doorstep at any time, even more angry than before.

Anyone could show up at any time.

Jimmy doesn't feel as secure as he used to feel, surrounded by superheroes as they are.

"We'll move," Jimmy decides. "As soon as Major is back, we're moving. It just isn't safe here."

They’ll move.

Then he’ll deal with this numbness.

-

"Hey!" Jimmy calls, running into the kitchen. "No! You aren't allowed to lift anything more than ten pounds, put that down!"

Scott sighs with an over-dramatic roll of his eyes, sets the box back on the counter. "It's not that heavy. And it doesn't even hurt right now."

"Just because it doesn't hurt doesn't mean it isn't injured, Mister," Jimmy tells him. "You don't want to pull out your stitches."

"You haven't let me help at all. Pearl already handled the actual heavy stuff, let me do something."

Jimmy shakes his head and picks up the box. "That's your own fault for getting stabbed right before we moved."

"We're moving because I got stabbed," Scott points out. "It's not like any of this was planned."

"You should have thought about that before you got stabbed, then."

Scott groans, then reluctantly laughs. "I guess I should have. Can I at least drive?"

Jimmy lets out a very put-upon sigh. "I suppose, since I don't have a driver's license, you can be allowed to drive. But only if you behave yourself."

Scott giggles again. "You're adorable," he says fondly. "You know I'm the Primary Protector of the city, right? I don't think you'd be able to stop me."

"And I killed a man last week," counters Jimmy. "I don't think you want to be on my bad side."

"Oh," Scott says after a moment. "Are we joking about this now?"

Jimmy shrugs. "We're in the laugh-or-cry stage. I'm trying to laugh about it right now."

Scott looks at him. Really, truly, looks at him.

Then he laughs. Just a little bit, but still a laugh.

"I love you," he says. "I'll help you hide the body next time."

Jimmy laughs a little, too, but Scott pauses.

"There . . . isn't going to be a next time, right?" he asks uncertainly.

"Oh, absolutely not. Not unless it's entirely necessary."

Scott nods several times. "Good," he says. “Yep. Cool.”

Jimmy turns back toward the door, box in his arms, and waits until he’s out of the house to huff, shaking his head (though a smile plays on his lips).

They’re okay.

He pushes away the numb feeling that threatens to seep into his brain and thinks and remembers and knows that they’re okay.

That’s good enough for him.

[deluxewhump]

Ethan Byrne

Synopsis/setup: Just after his high school graduation, Cameron gets jumped and robbed while attempting to sell a fair amount of drugs for a local dealer. He now is without the product or any money to cover the losses. Having already been beaten up and threatened that worse is coming by one of the drug dealer’s goons, Cam contacts his estranged half brothers Ethan Byrne and Edmund “Lou” Lewis to see if he can go visit them and hide out while he figures out what to do. He has no idea what Ethan is.

CW: Cam has recently turned 19 in this. abusive, incestuous overtones, mocking talk of incest, Ethan Byrne is vile, human furniture, homophobic language, misogynistic language, slurs (including the f word), black eye and bruised ribs, bystander does not intervene, abuse, creepy intimate whump, noncon vibes (but no noncon), crying

—

Edmund “Lou” Lewis had always been concerned with the way people saw him. It was important to him. He was always watching himself in the eyes of others, to the detriment of seeing anything but his own reflection. It was a weakness.

His half- brother Ethan had no such weakness. Unlike Lou, Ethan didn't give a single thought to what anyone else thought of him. Lou envied it sometimes. Ethan was a demon in highschool, getting into fights with anyone and everyone, with guys from the next town over and getting one of his teeth knocked out so they had to screw in a fake one. He set fire to the guy’s car the following week with a Molotov cocktail. He went to juvie once, but that was it. Nothing ever stuck to Ethan. At twenty-four, he had a clean record.

Ethan and Lou had a different mothers, and they were raised in different homes. Ethan was only a few months younger than Lou. Their father wasn’t exactly a faithful man, and only by virtue of small town gossip did they know they shared one. Lou’s mother had not given her son his father’s surname, but Ethan’s had.

When Ethan was twelve, he’d crashed his four wheeler into a tree. Everyone said he was different after that. Like he’d bumped his head hard enough to undergo some structural personality change. Lou didn’t think so. Ethan just came into his own around then, but it was always coming. When they were fourteen, Ethan carved ten inch-long tally marks into another boy’s arm because he wouldn’t pay up on the ten bucks he owed him. Everyone on their schoolbus called him Tally after that. When he’d been suspended for it, the principal kept asking for the knife. It had been done with a broken ruler.

When their dad left town, he never came back. Lou and Ethan knew they had a third half-brother, a kid five or six years younger than them who lived a couple hours down the interstate with their father. They’d never met him, never spoken to him. When he called and said he was in trouble, Lou hung up on him. The kid made the mistake of calling Ethan next. Ethan gave him his address, and he got on the next bus north.

Lanky and full of nervous energy, Cameron spent the first two days trying to impress them without letting on that he was trying to impress them. It was only a little pathetic, and mostly just sad. He had no idea Ethan was sizing him up, a skill he’d always had an uncanny knack for. Lou watched it like a familiar TV rerun. He knew Ethan’s every move. He considered warning Cameron, but decided to wait. Ethan might hold back for their own flesh and blood. He might be tamer, less wolfish. Who knew. It was uncharted territory. But that very night, the third night since Cameron’s arrival, there was a clear tension stirring between them.

Lou watched from the living room sofa with a mixture of apathy and resignation as Ethan prepared to do what he did best— probe the weak spots he’d mapped and observed.

“What’s so special about you, do you think?” Ethan asked when the conversation turned to their shared father. “Why did he stay for you?”

Cameron grew visibly uncomfortable. He shrugged under Ethan’s steady gaze. “You’re not missing much.”

“That so? Is he a dick?”

“Lately,” Cameron muttered. His black eye had gone down since he first showed up, not so much swollen now as just discolored. He’d been jumped by some drug dealer’s lackey, beaten up in his own living room. His lashes brushed his cheeks as he dropped his eyes.

Ethan lifted his chin to force him to look at him. “He hasn’t so much as called me or Lou since we were five.”

“I’m sorry,” Cameron said, clearly unsettled by the sudden physical contact. He looked down his nose at Ethan’s hand on his chin and pulled away slowly.

Ethan laughed under his breath. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Does daddy know you’re the local dealer’s bitch now?”

“I’m not,” Cameron said, anger flashing in his eyes. “I’m not anybody’s bitch.”

“I think if those guys that are after you caught up to you, they wouldn’t kill you at all. I think they’d see an opportunity. Pass you around like a truck stop whore.” He raised his eyebrows as if he’d had an epiphany. “Like your mother! You must look like her, because we don’t look a thing alike. She give you these green eyes? These freckles?”

Ethan cupped Cameron’s face, running his thumb over his cheek just under his bruised eye. Cameron tried to draw his head back but Ethan followed him, cupping his cheek with force. “I think they know you’re a little whore. I think they can smell it on you. I can.”

“Fuck off,” Cameron said with considerable venom, but Lou could hear the tremor in his voice. That was blood in the water to a thing like Ethan. Ethan’s violence was different than Lou’s own latent tendencies. It was calculated like a laser beam, where Lou’s had always been scattershot. Ethan was tireless. Ruthless.

He lowered his voice so that Lou almost missed his next words to Cameron. “So. Does daddy know you’re a faggot?”

Cameron looked over at Lou, his eyes questioning, desperate. What is this? they said. Get him off me.

“Must run in the family, Tally,” Lou called. Ethan ignored him in favor of his new victim.

“Why did you really leave? Did our daddy yell at you? He hit you, Cam? You can tell me.”

“No.”

“You wish he would just love you again, don't you? Like he did when you were little. Why’d he stop, you think?”

“Stop it,” Cameron said. Lou could hear tight, angry tears in his throat. But there was fear, just beneath it. He finally sensed the danger all at once, like being in the middle of a frozen lake when you hear the crack.

“Did you offer to take mommy’s place when she left?” Ethan pushed. “He turn you down?”

“You’re fucking sick,” Cameron hissed. “There’s something wrong with you.” He attempted to shove Ethan away. Undeterred, Ethan grabbed his face, hard. Cameron grunted and tried to pull away, only succeeding in pressing himself against the wall behind him. His cheeks and mouth were squished in Ethan’s hand in an undignified, fishlike way.

“You’re right,” Ethan said. “I’m sorry. That’s too fucked, even for a budding little freak like you. You’d take it from me, though, I can tell. We’re only half, right? You don't even know me. Maybe we’re not even related. Maybe daddy lied, or someone’s mother did. It’s all kind of messy, isn’t it. Who’s to say?”

Cameron tried to push past him, but Ethan used his grip on his face to slam him back into the wall. “Sh-sh-sh. No. Relax. It’s just us.” With his other hand, he ran a finger along the waistband of Cameron’s pants, lifting his shirt so Lou could see his skinny waist trembling beneath it.

“Ethan,” said Lou. “I will come over there and break your fucking hand if you put it in his pants.”

“Chill out, Lou,” Ethan said. He traced an exploratory fingertip along Cameron’s lower belly so he twitched away. “I wouldn’t dream of it. He might, though. C'mere, Cameron.”

The fear and hatred in Cameron’s eyes was further pronounced by the tears still standing in them. He’d been so adoring of Ethan the past three days, too. Especially Ethan. Ethan wasn’t the one who’d hung up on him.

“It’s okay. Come on.”

Ethan started backing up. “Cmon,” he called, as if to a particularly dumb puppy. Reluctantly, Cameron took a step to follow him.

“Good. Keep coming.”

Ethan took another step back, hands at his sides, palms-up. Cameron took another shuffling step closer, looking like he half expected Ethan to switch tactics and hit him at any moment. Ethan backed up until he reached the sofa and sat down next to Lou. He pointed at his feet. “Right here.”

Cameron stood in front of him. This close, Lou could see that his whole body was trembling visibly.

“On your hands and knees.”

Cameron’s eyes snapped to Ethan’s.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. Hands and knees.”

Lou watched as Cameron obeyed, going to his knees first and then putting his hands out as if blind until he was on all fours. Ethan put his booted feet onto his back. “Good. Just like that.” He turned on the television, settling into the sofa with Cameron as his footrest.

After a moment, he lifted his right boot and nudged it into Cameron’s bruised ribs. He yelped and flinched, but hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut. Taking it. Lou wasn’t surprised. He’d watched Ethan in action his entire life. Still, it had been rather fast with Cameron. He almost felt bad for him. He was only nineteen, and clearly Ethan had zeroed in on something.

“Stay still,” Ethan cooed, grinding the toe of his boot in cruel little circles on Cameron’s ribs. “That’s it. I know you want to please, deep down, Cameron. That’s why you told us about those good grades you got in AP math. No one patted you on the head for that, did they? Well, I will. I’m gonna show you how to give in to it. What’re long lost big brothers for, huh puppy dog?”

Cameron sobbed through gritted teeth, his arms shaking with the effort of keeping still with the grinding boot in his damaged ribs.

“Shh.” Ethan removed his boot and set it back on the tabletop of Cameron’s back. “You’re okay.”

[yearningagain]

it's enough (to make a girl blush): chapter three

HI SORRY FOR THE WAIT!! i had some unexpected personal setbacks but the third chapter is finally here!! finally some eddie pov smirk

i will also say that college has officially started back up for me, so chapters might come slower for the next few months, sorry! im an educated man what can i say

and now, on to the main attraction!

also on ao3!

total wc: 4.2k | wc: 1.6k | rating: e (18+) | pairing: steddie | cw: past drug use | tags: a/b/o, alpha eddie munson, omega steve harrington, modern au, baker steve, famous eddie, getting together, gay eddie, bi steve, soulmates/true mates/scent mates, side buckingham

part one | part two

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

Eddie was tired.

That’s a complete understatement. Eddie was exhausted. 

This wasn’t uncommon for him, he’d pulled his fair share of all-nighters growing up purely because he was hyperfocused on something and lost track of time. Even on nights he could manage to put himself to bed, insomnia and nightmares plagued him. His father screaming, his mother dying, Uncle Wayne finally saying he’d had enough of Eddie’s antics. He had run on pure adrenaline. (And maybe some of the leftovers Rick had given him.)

But that was high school. Now, Eddie had managed to give himself a semi-normal sleep schedule by giving his absolute all to Corroded Coffin, just to high-tail it back to wherever they were sleeping to crash for four to six hours, or until his brain got the better of him. And his dedication to the band, along with the motivation from the other members, had paid off immensely. They were actually quite popular now, selling out small venues in bigger cities and the off chance of getting recognised on an extremely busy street. The boys had toured the U.S. twice now, and were currently a quarter of the way done with their third. Their label had even begun talking about a world tour for their next album.

Eddie loved playing shows. He loved how he could feel the music deep in his bones, how the words he’d scribbled on a random notebook page were now being sung by thousands of voices, how he got to be himself through and through because that’s what got him there. He had also been sleeping fantastically, which was a plus.

Until two weeks ago.

Until the mystery man entered his dreams and knocked Eddie’s whole world out from underneath him.

—

The night had ended uneventfully, the first of two sold out shows in LA went on without a hitch. Eddie was thanking his past self for convincing the guys to get a hotel since they were staying in the city for multiple shows. No matter how much money they happened to rake in, oftentimes just staying on the bus was preferred. The alpha was crashing hard after coming off stage, barely managing to say bye to Jeff, Gareth, and Frank before stumbling to the waiting cab and eventually haphazardly shoving his key card into the lock of his hotel room. He toed his shoes off, pulled his shirt over his head, and fell face first into the bed. 

Eddie didn’t remember falling asleep. One second, he’s debating on if it’s worth it to shimmy off his skinny jeans, the next, he’s got an angelic omega in his lap frantically grinding against his thigh. 

He didn’t know where he was or who he was with, but none of that seemed to matter, if his alpha’s feeling of Omega, Mate, Safe was anything to go by. In fact, quite literally nothing mattered to him right now, except for the movements of the mystery man, the distinct wetness soaking through his pant leg, and how his fly was digging into his dick. 

“God, fuck- alpha, please…”

As soon as the title left the omega’s lips, the alpha was completely entranced. Eddie huffed, his hands quickly made their way to the man’s hips, gripping and guiding him to chase his impending orgasm. The alpha didn’t fare much better, already embarrassingly close to popping a knot in his jeans. 

“Ah- ‘M close, alpha…” was all the warning Eddie got before their efforts doubled down, both moving impossibly faster. He swayed forward trying to get a whiff of the omega, and he was rewarded greatly with the heady scent of spiced caramel apples, with an undercurrent of warm vanilla. In response, Eddie pumped out his own pheromones, hoping to get the other over the edge.

Suddenly, everything was wrong. He felt ice cold, plunged into consciousness unwillingly. As he opened his eyes, he was very disappointed to see no one in the hotel bed with him. That wasn’t unusual, waking up alone. Eddie hated hookups and one night stands and anything that left him feeling somehow more lonely than before, and he hadn’t met anyone he was willing to subtract time with the band to be substantial with. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock at the door, Jeff making sure he’s awake in time for their morning meeting. He simply groaned, rolled off the bed, and pushed all of these weird feelings as far down as he could.

—

Now, after two weeks of enduring hot dreams (that feel so so real), irritability, and the other members of Corroded Coffin, and even staff, having to tell him constantly to put on more blockers because he reeks, it makes sense that he’s exhausted. That’s not even including his growing urge to nest, his steadily increasing libido, and his inner alpha being infuriatingly restless. He thought he was putting on a brave face, hiding most of his internal issues from his bandmates, from the world. 

Too bad that his bandmates were also the people he trusted most, his best friends in the entire world, part of his pack. 

The boys had an off day- no shows, no interviews, nothing explicitly planned. They had arrived in Wisconsin late the previous night, going straight from the stage to the bus to pack up and start the drive from Missouri. Eddie had planned to take the day off to relax, maybe nap if his mind would allow it. But Jeff, Gareth, and Frank apparently had other ideas.

A knock on his bunk startled Eddie from his wandering mind, having spaced out thinking about the mystery omega yet again. He groaned, but pulled the privacy curtain back to give the stink eye to whoever disturbed him. Gareth waved sheepishly. “Hey, dude. Sorry to bother, but we got pizza.”

Immediately, Eddie forgave the beta, swiftly hauling his ass out of the bunk and into the main space of the bus where three pizzas had been laid out. Plain cheese for Gareth because he was vegetarian, pepperoni for Jeff and Frank because they were normal, and mushrooms and meatballs for Eddie because he was a freak like that. Once he grabbed two slices, Eddie sat down on the couch, finally realizing that the others were watching him intently.

“What? Do I have sauce on my face?” he asked lightly, but the set of their jaws made his blood run cold. Jeff shook his head, heaving a sigh before meeting his eyes.

“We need to talk.” Jeff began.

“Oh my god, are you breaking up with me?” Eddie comedically gasped. If there was one thing about him, it was that if he couldn’t run from the confrontation, he’d make some shitty joke about it.  

Despite his piss-poor attempt at deflection, Frank spoke up. “You’ve been different, dude. Holeing up in your bunk, snapping at us. You even growled at me. That’s not cool.”

The alpha at least had the sense to look apologetic about it. It was one thing to verbally snap at people, but it was another entirely to growl at someone. Especially someone who didn’t deserve it, like Frank. All he had done was point out a groupie that was desperate for Eddie, something the boys normally joked about knowing his distaste for engaging with them. But something about even suggesting anyone other than Mystery Omega felt completely and utterly wrong.

“Plus, you reek, bro. You know that. How do you keep forgetting your blockers? We just want to make sure you haven’t gotten yourself into something bad. I know this is different from high school, but the stress is still there. We want to know that you’re okay, Eddie,” Jeff said solemnly. 

Slowly but surely, the gears started turning for Eddie. “You- you guys think I’m on drugs?” He laughed, albeit a bit hysterically. He stood and started pacing. “I fucking wish I was on drugs! I feel like I’m losing it! My stupid alpha won’t stop being in-fucking-sane, all broody and moody and fucking annoying as hell. Keeps telling me to prepare and fucking nest and, fucking, oh, gotta make it perfect, gotta make it nice. For fucking what!”

His hands shot to his hair, tugging and pulling on the locks. “Not to mention that my dick is basically rubbed raw because I fucking always pop a knot, which I swear has gotten bigger. And I can’t stop it because those fucking dreams won’t stop! He’s always there, every single night, making my life absolute hell because he’s not actually here and he’s not actually real and I’m so fucking lonely that I made a guy up to get off!” Eddie was borderline feral now, pupils pinpoint and breaths coming in heavy gasps. He slowly sank to his knees, closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. “And I have been wearing blockers. I’ve stacked blockers.” He pulled his hair back, revealing at least three patches over his primary scent glands. “It’s not helping. Nothing is helping.”

Gareth stood from his spot on the opposite couch the alpha had been perched on, the information coming together quickly for him. “Is it the same guy?” he asks, taking a few steps to approach Eddie, who raised his head. “What?”

“Is it always the same guy, Eddie? I need you to be honest here.” The beta moved closer, kneeling in front and gently taking Eddie’s hands from his hair.

“Y-yeah. Same guy. Don’t have a face, but he smells divine, Gare. What’s going on?” Eddie asked quietly.

“I think you need to listen to your alpha. I think you need to prepare.”