#god help me but even as I’m crying it is all still so stupidly fucking cool

[takiki16]

ANYWAY. When Flint finishes killing Joji (who never got a fucking line, btw fuck you producers) and straightens up to see Silver outlined against the horizon looking straight at him, you understand why Billy Bones dropped dead at the Admiral Benbow Inn.

[strwbrrybxn]

Hello, does "I dunno who taught you that love comes with conditions and limitations, but mine doesn't. Not when it's you." with kakashi sound? Maybe after on of them gets hurt in battle Happy happy 200 followers 💞

Kakashi — "I dunno who taught you that love comes with conditions and limitations, but mine doesn't. Not when it's you." 490 word count

cw: spoilers from Shippuden, cursing

ooooh this was actually a lot of fun to write. kakashi is such an angsty man and it just fit so well for him. i hope it's everything you imagined!

Kakashi watched as your eyes widened before starting to water. He couldn't even take the extra strides towards you to comfort you. You had barricaded yourself behind the couch. His stomach churned. He was so angry, but he doesn't even remember why. He doesn't know why he got so worked up. Anxiety? Trust issues? He doesn't know, but all he did know was that he was suffocating inside the apartment. 

He took a step towards the door. Waited. You didn't say anything. You didn't even stop him. His heart fell as he pushed himself out the door. His feet took him to his own, abandoned, apartment. He barely slept here anymore – barely did anything at this place, but for now, it'll do. He had to sleep. Tomorrow started a new era; a new chapter of his life. He could only hope he'd see you again after and apologize.

“—iot. Idiot. You're so fucking reckless all the time. You're always getting yourself hurt.” He heard your voice, your sniffles. His skin felt hot. “And now I have to sit here and— Sakura! Help me, please!” His skin felt so prickly and wet. God, his chest hurt so badly. “Now I have to sit here and hope you open those stupidly pretty eyes and cry because you made me so fucking mad before all this started. You didn’t come home and I- I’m so mad at you Kakashi, and you can’t die when I’m mad at you. You can’t. Or else I'll have to come find you and- and-” His sharingan eye opened first, spinning wildly as he tried to focus and open his other eye. His focus landed on you, his hand coming up to hold yours as he watched the tears drip from your eyes and land on his cheeks. 

“Baby-” he muttered. “Don’t cry.” 

“You’re an idiot.” You hiccupped. 

“I know… but–”

“No buts–”

“Yes, buts. I shouldn’t have walked out. I should have sat and talked with you. I should have said something before this happened.”

“Kashi–”

“Look, I dunno who taught you that love comes with conditions and limitations, but mine doesn’t. Not when it’s you. I am so deeply in love with you. I am so crazy about you. There are no boundaries with my love. I will do anything and everything for you and to protect you. I should have said that before. I should have calmed you down instead of walking away.” 

“I just – I fear,” you sputtered, still trying to get the blood to stop seeping from his chest wound. “I fear losing you. I’m so scared you’ll leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you. If they haven’t killed me yet, they’re not going to kill me–”

“Shut up, you have died.” 

“But I’m still here, loving you.” He smiled as cheekily as he could, cupping the back of your neck and tugging you down; pressing his bloodied lips to yours. 

Ally's 200 Followers Prompts Event

[marshmellowtea]

willy clarke all prompts for the character ask thing?

YES MY BOY MY BABY BOY

there's a couple questions on here that were also on the last ask game i did with him so prepare for some repeats lmao. also prepare for a lot of rambling because jfc i could not shut up about him </3

1. Favorite food?

y’know favorite food headcanons are stupidly hard for me for no reason other than me overthinking things too hard lol so i’m just gonna steal some headcanons from the discord server and say that he really likes salty snacks like chips and pretzels, he’ll eat whole bags of them in one sitting if he’s not paying attention. i also think he has a soft spot for apples and vanilla ice cream (the latter occasionally with sprinkles, if he’s feeling feisty or regressed lmao).

2. Morning or night person?

i'm gonna lean toward night person, i can see him staying up way too late and finding peace in being up at midnight when the world feels still…..buuut i can also see a case for him being a morning person, like he's used to getting up early, so he tends to wake up before the sunrise most days....this question is weirdly hard to answer for him tbh i really can see him going either way hfgkljKLDF

3. Favorite color

idk if he has a specific fave but i get the vibe that he really likes soft colors, shades that are easy on the eyes. i'm particularly thinking about pastel/really gentle shades of blues, purples, greens and grays, buuut i was also talking to someone in the server (waves at purple if you're seeing this hi <3) about him liking the color pink and that's also a cute headcanon i hold close to my heart hglkdsajf :’)

4. Headcanon(s)?

once again gonna do five here!

i assign this headcanon to all my faves but.....transfem genderfluid will lives in my head and my heart rent free. william can have a little gender okay, as a treat <3

the poor kid is absolutely touch starved, after his mom dies he doesn't really have anyone around to just give him a damn hug (and i have uh. thoughts about the nature of touch in their relationship too but we're gonna put that aside for now ghlkdsajf). the first time tanya holds him he almost starts crying on her shoulder, it's a little overwhelming for him :')

he's autistic! everyone and their mother has this headcanon ik but that's only because it's a good one lmao. i also think he has cptsd (i have THOUGHTS about his childhood okay) and suffers from periods of depression because.....yeah. yeah

i mostly have this headcanon because projection and also i think it's kinda funny hgkljKLDSF but i really like the idea that to the surprise of fuckin everyone, will really likes intense music like industrial or noise music. he'll put it on his headphones and aggressively stim to it, it just scratches a part of his brain for some reason ghdslkjf

basing this off my brother's boyfriend here lol sorry man but while he wears a lot of dark colors, he doesn't actually like wearing them all the time, lmao. he'd like to wear other colors, he just buys a lot of gray and black clothes (when he does have the money to buy clothes at least) because they're comfortable and they match all the other dark clothes he doesn't enjoy wearing, ghkdjf. i'd like to think that in a fix-it au his friends would help him develop a wardrobe that's both comfortable AND more interesting/fun for him to wear <3

5. Sexuality?

asexual! whether his romantic attraction is bi/panromantic, aromantic, or lesbian is kind up in the air for me and/or depends on the au though ghlkadsjf

6. OTP?

i am so fucking weak for willtanya it's not even funny. i am in hell over them <3

7. NOTP?

as stated before i am not big on romantic willmartha.....they're cute and all but hglkdsjf. they just don't do it for me i like them more as friends RIP

8. One way I relate to them

socially awkward neurodivergents. he doesn't know how to talk to people and neither do i goddammit ghkdalsfjKJSD

9. Are they in my top 10?

YES god yes. he's easily top ten in characters in this game, and while my top ten characters of all time tends to shift around depending on my hyperfixations, currently he's definitely up there he's just. waugh. i adore him :")

10. Favorite thing about character?

he's literally just. genuinely a sweet kid. he makes some bad decisions, sure, but i swear basically every interaction we see the real him have with other people is just him being the kindest little guy and i'm hgngnfd ;_; he's fucking baby and he deserves the w o r l d

11. Do they roast their marshmallows until they’re black, or golden brown?

i think he tries to get them golden brown but he almost always drops them in the fire on accident instead RIP

12. Secret special talent?

not roasting marshmallows that's for sure LMAO uhh i think he's actually a fairly good creative writer, both prose and poetry. i also think he's really good with animals as well (something something farmwork in the lawrence fraternity), and he's a surprisingly good singer, though he doesn't sing often. and yes i did put three here i couldn't decide between them ghlkasdfjlk

13. Do they sleep with socks on?

depends on how cold it is, i can see him going either way

14. Are they the type that takes games to seriously?

not at all, no. i think he's mostly just happy to be included most of the time ahh :')

15. What are they like when they’re happy?

canonically he kinda struggles to express himself so i don’t think he’s too different from how he is normally, buuuut i do think he finds himself smiling absently and stimming more often when he’s genuinely happy and content 🥺

16. Excited?

STIMMY BOY!! think hands flapping, bouncing in place, pacing around the room, he just can't keep still and it's so cute 😭

17. Sad?

i think he gets really quiet, tends to shut down and collapse in on himself. i think it can be hard to tell for people who don’t know him well to tell when he’s sad or upset, but with people he’s close to or trusts they tend to pick up on it pretty quickly because he’s a bit clingier/seeks out physical affection with them more than he normally does in addition to him being quieter than usual okay that last bit is more self indulgent than canon based but i think it’s really cute okay ;_;

18. Angry?

mmm this one's a bit difficult but honestly i can like. see him not really being sure what to do with himself when he's angry. i think he gets a bit terse with people, and maybe even lashing out if he's pushed hard enough, but mostly i just see him just bottling it up and stewing in it, trying not to really let himself feel it, if that makes sense. i don't think he gets angry very often, but when he does, i feel like he gets really uncomfortable with himself over it, y'know? i do have some reasoning behind this headcanon but this post is long enough as it is and idk if i can really articulate it properly so ghlkdsjf

[xoxo-teddybear]

I Didn’t Mean It - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST, cursing, death

Summary: It was too early for this. All the yelling, the fighting, the screaming. You didn’t give in but for some reason Bakugou just couldn’t let it go. Words get said and hearts die.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“YOU FUCKING ATTENTION WHORE!”

-

Your boyfriend, whom you’ve been dating since your second year in junior high, was currently screaming your head off.

Last night, the two of you and your friends all went out but the night ended early for you and Katsuki when some rando got a little too handsy with you. Even though you pushed the guy away, Katsuki couldn’t help but feed into his jealous nature. You both argued all night but you left the argument early and went to bed, too exhausted with everything that just went down. Unfortunately, Katsuki was stubborn and the second you woke up to get ready for patrol, he brought the argument back to life.

-

“A-Attention whore? Katsuki, I pushed him away!” You said with a cracked voice as you gathered your things. Bakugou was standing near the kitchen island as he slammed his fist on the counter and continued to yell.

“Why do you think he went to you in the first place, Y/N?! You walk around, dressed like a fucking slut, even though you have a boyfriend!” He screamed.

His words were hitting hard and you teared up the slightest bit as he continued yelling. “Katsuki! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Would you quit fucking crying! Just fucking admit you were going to be a fucking hoe and cheat on me! Then you can get the fuck out of here!” He screamed in your face. You squinted your eyes as the tears pricked at the end of them.

“…is that what you want? You want me to leave?” You asked with a broken heart. You could see the hesitation on Bakugou’s face. He was fighting himself, trying to force himself to bite his tongue and take back every harsh thing he said but his pride wouldn’t allow it. He didn’t mean any of it. His heart cried for one thing while his wild mouth said another.

“…..yes.” He muttered. He watched as your face grew in heartbreak and he could practically hear your pulse booming. You bit in your lip to hold back your sobs before you blinked away your tears and nodded.

“I’ll get my stuff out after my patrol.” With that, you walked off to the door and left to work but not before you heard Bakugou mutter a soft ‘I hate you,’ knowing full well that you heard. Bakugou stood in the now quiet house, immediately regretting everything he said.

He knew you weren’t a cheater. He knew you wouldn’t do that to him. He doesn’t know why he said what he did but all he knows is that he’s going to make it up to you once you come back home. He’ll do whatever it takes. He loves you after all.

—

After hollowing in sadness and regret, Bakugou got up and began his plan to make it up to you. He left the house and went out to buy groceries, a new Teddy Bear for you, a necklace, and a bouquet of your favorite flowers and another bouquet of roses.

With the new groceries, he made your favorite meal and baked your favorite dessert. He wrapped the gifts and placed them on the beautifully set table that was littered in flower petals and candles. Bakugou was sure this would help aid in his apology.

Throughout the day, Bakugou sent you multiple texts trying to explain and apologize. He sent multiple messages and was starting to grow a little hurt at the fact that you weren’t replying to any of them. He tried calling but when you didn’t pick up, it worried him. He sent voicemails to no avail and continued waiting. It was only a morning patrol so you should be back soon. Right?

—

Wrong. Bakugou sat in front of the t.v screen with an open jaw and wide eyes as tears fell from his face.

Pro-hero, H/N, fallen in tragic battle against villain.

Bakugou could feel the world stop. He felt his heart beat all throughout his body as he shook. He couldn’t move. It was like he was frozen in place as he stared at the screen showing an image of you being impaled. He snapped out of his trance when his phone rang. Stupidly having hope that it was you, he immediately answered.

“Y-Y/N?!” Bakugou screamed into the phone with a broken voice.

“I’m sorry Bakugou.” He recognized the voice as his best friend, Kirishima. “I don’t think she’s gonna make it.”

Bakugou began to huff as he looked around the house. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t what he wanted! You were supposed to come home and make up! You were supposed to be here with him! You were supposed to be home!

“Where are you?! Where are you, where is she?!” He screamed into the phone. Kirishima gave him the information and Bakugou was out the door, blasting his way to your location.

He forced himself to go beyond his limits as he traveled the distance to where you were located. He arrived at the busy land where the battle took place. He ignored everything else and set his sights on where you could be, until he finally took notice of a crowd of people, surround your seemingly lifeless body.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!” The pro screamed at the crowd. Everybody took notice of the hero as he ran to your body with tears in his eyes. Tears he vowed to hide from the public. As Bakugou landed, Kirishima and a few other heroes at the scene pushed the crowd away and told them to leave the couple be. The paramedics tried to take your body from Bakugou in a foolish attempt, but Bakugou refused to let you go. The paramedics allowed him to hold you, for they knew it would be for the last time.

Bakugou knelt down at your side and pressed your body to his chest. He still held frantic eyes as he examined your condition and felt his heart sink when he came to the conclusion that you weren’t doing so good. “Hey..hey, hey, hey. Y/N? Y/N, please. Please baby, wake up!”

His heart and head were in battle as one knew you weren’t going to make it while the other held hope and prayed you would. Bakugou moved the stray pieces of hair that covered your beautiful face and caressed your cheek. “Y/N come on! You have to wake up! We have to go home now!”

As his tears finally fell and dropped onto your face, you began to move and awaken due to his sobs and pleas.

“……..Katsuki,” you ever so gently whispered out, barely audible. But Bakugou heard you. He heard you well.

“Y/N! Fuck- thank fucking god!” He exclaimed into your neck as he cried. He sobbed while you merely looked to the sky, waiting for the heavens to take you.

“…I’m gonna die.”

At your words, Bakugou picked his head up and looked at your dull and almost lifeless eyes. His heart began panicking again as he shook his head. “No…no, baby, don’t say that. You’re gonna make it. I swear!”

“……I didn’t get to move my stuff out. I- ngh- ….I’m sorry.” You said with a weak look as you stared at nothing. Bakugou felt his tears fall heavier as he was reminded of your fight. He told you to leave. He told you he hated you. And he hated himself for even doing it.

“Y/N, please don’t leave. Please. I don’t want you to go..I- I didn’t mean it! I want you to stay. Stay with me! Stay alive! Please don’t go.” He begged as he held on a little tighter. You felt yourself growing weaker by the second and your vision was beginning to dull and turn hazy.

“…it’s too late.”

“It’s not! Please, it can’t be! Y/N!” Bakugou looked around for help when he realized he was left alone with you. “Y/N, please! Just stay a little longer!”

“…I’m tired, Katsuki.”

“I-..I know baby. I know. But- you have to stay awake, okay!? Stay awake, stay alive!” Bakugou cried as he looked at your life force drain right in front of him. What was he going to do?

You began to curl in a little more as you felt your body relax in his hold. “Katsuki?”

“Yes baby?” He frantically asked.

“…. I love you..and I’m sorry.”

His body took a screenshot as he looked at you in shock. Sorry? For what? You did nothing wrong. Today was horrible and it was his fault and now..he was paying the ultimate price.

“Y/N, I love you too.” He cried. He didn’t know what to do. What to say, what to think. He didn’t know anything. All he knew was that he wanted you to live. As he cried with shut eyes, his world stopped spinning when he felt you become dead weight in his arms. He shot his eyes open as he looked at your now lifeless body. “Y/N?…..Y/N!”

You didn’t get to hear him say it back.

Bakugou shook you, but to no avail. You were gone. But he refused to believe it. “Y/N!….Y/N wake up! ….This isn’t fucking funny! Please!”

Bakugou continued to try and get you to open your eyes until paramedics came to take your body and heroes pulled him away from you. “No! NO! LET ME GO! LET ME HOLD HER! PLEASE!”

“Bakugou! Stop! She’s gone!” Kirishima screamed as he held Bakugou back. The blonde continued to fight and struggle against the heroes that held him as he continued to reach out for you.

“NO! SHE’S NOT GONE! SHE’S THERE! SHE’S RIGHT THERE! PLEASE! LET ME GO! GIVE HER BACK TO ME!” Bakugou watched as the paramedics laid you down on a stretcher and covered your body in a sheet. The sight made Bakugou nauseous as he felt his heart drop to his stomach.

“NO!” He cried as he used his explosions to push away the heroes and ran to your body. The sight of the angry and heartbroken hero scared the medics away as Bakugou ripped the sheet off and was finally able to have you in his arms again. Kirishima was the first and only one who tried to reach out to him.

“Bakugou-“

“STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM US!” He screamed as he held into your dead body.

“…Y/N..baby, please wake up. This wasn’t supposed to happen!” He cried as he pressed his forehead to your own and held onto the side of your face. “I’m so sorry we argued and had that fight…but- but I was going to make it up to you! I swear! You were supposed to come home..so I could give you flowers..and gifts..and- and I made your favorite meal! I set everything up back at home! You have to wake up so you can see! YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP SO YOU KNOW THAT I DIDN’T MEAN ANY OF THE SHIT I SAID!”

You remained silent and breathless, and yet Bakugou still tried, hoping you could hear him.

“Wake up…so we can go home. So I can show you all I did for you. So I can shower you in a thousand apologies, so we can cuddle on the couch…please.” He cried. “Y/N…..”

All of a sudden, Bakugou was pulled back by a hero’s quirk and held there. He fought against restraints and screamed against everything and everyone. “NO! NO! GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!”

He continued to scream until he felt someone jab him with a sedative. He felt himself going weak and feeling drowsy. He was getting tired. His vision became fuzzy but he was still able to see them cover your body up once more as Kirishima tried to hide his view of you.

“No!” He screamed in a weaker, more tired tone. “No, please. Please..just-…just let me hold her. Please……Y/N….” And with that, he was knocked out.

—

When he came to, he awoke on his couch with Kirishima sitting at his feet with his elbows on his knees. When the red head noticed the blonde’s opening eyes, he was quick to grab him some water.

“Hey man, you’re finally-“

“WHERE IS SHE?!” Bakugou asked, slapping the glass of water out of his best friend’s hand. He grabbed onto the red’s shoulders and demanded answers. “WHERE’S Y/N!? TELL ME NOW!”

Kirishima looked at Bakugou with pitiful eyes. He slowly took hold of his friend’s hands and pulled them off of his shoulders. “Bakugou…I’m sorry.”

The blonde began to shake his head in denial as he began to cry again. “No..no! No, no, please! She can’t…”

“Bakugou…”

“She can’t be gone.”

The blonde began to sob uncontrollably as Kirishima consulted him the best he could. He was unfamiliar with the blonde’s despair, the hot head had never been this upset before. The two friends remained on the couch until Bakugou calmed down enough to a point where he could talk…barely.

“H-How long have I been out?” Bakugou asked.

“Just two days. Don’t worry..you didn’t miss her…” Kirishima looked at his friend’s broken face as Bakugou lifted his head to show his friend his depression. He knew what words were coming. He didn’t know if he wanted to hear them. “….you didn’t miss her funeral.”

Bakugou squeezed his eyes shut as he allowed his head to fall as tears poured out of them. He silently suffered before asking another question. “When is it?”

“…in a week. Y/N didn’t have any family left-“ Kirishima felt his friend tense at his words. “…She didn’t have any blood related family left to give her one, so our friends and the agency put together a small one. Just her closest friends, the agency, and the heroes who fought with her in battle.”

“……I’m not going.” Bakugou stated.

“What?” Kirishima asked. “Bakugou, Y/N was your girlfriend. You guys were together even before U.A. and even after that! You both built a home together. How could you not go to her funeral?”

“I can’t face her! Not yet. I don’t deserve to get a good look at her face after what I did.” The pro sobbed. Kirishima looked at him in confusion, urging the blonde to continue. “I-….I said so many horrible things to her. I called her a fucking whore! I- I completely disrespected her and accused her of cheating when I know she didn’t! I told her to leave and to get the fuck out of my life! I told her I hated her!”

“Bakugou…”

“KIRISHIMA I TOLD HER TO LEAVE BUT I DIDN’T MEAN IT!” He screamed. Bakugou began to cry again as he finished pouring everything on the table. “I didn’t mean it! I didn’t want this! And- and now, I’ll never be able to get her back!”

Kirishima processed his friend’s words and began to understand exactly why he was so upset. He placed a hand in his friend’s back before softly speaking. “…Go to her funeral. Going could give you some closure and relief. Don’t say you don’t deserve to see her because you do. Y/N would want you to be there for her. …Honor H/N’s name.”

Bakugou said nothing as he kept his head in his hands. He didn’t sob uncontrollably anymore but Kirishima could hear his sniffles. The friend pulled him in for a small one sided hug and spoke.

“You’re my brother, Katsuki…I hate seeing you this upset.” With that, Kirishima got up and walked to the exit. Before he left, he looked to his friend with a sad look. “I hope you show up..for Y/N.”

—

The day of the funeral came, and Bakugou didn’t show. He couldn’t. Despite everything Kirishima said, he just couldn’t bring himself to face you. To see you dead. Pale faced in the casket. The thought alone made him sick to his stomach.

Time passed and months went by before Bakugou could even leave his house to go to your grave. The first time he went, he brought your favorite flowers in a mix of roses. He found your name engraved on the stone slab before placing the bouquet down and sitting. It was a beautiful day..and all he could think about was how you weren’t here to enjoy it with him.

“Y/N…I’m so so sorry. The day you left..you didn’t even get to hear me tell you that I love you too. I love you so much and now you’ll probably never know just how much I do. You’ll never get to wear the ring I got for you..you’ll never get to walk down the aisle..I’ll never get to be the one to receive you at the end of that aisle. We’ll never have that family you wouldn’t stop talking about. We’ll never get to grow old together..and be together forever like we planned.” He said with a sorrowful expression.

“I told you I hated you, I told you to leave but I didn’t mean it! Please….. come back! I love you and I want you here with me! I didn’t want you to go, I didn’t mean it, please!…

…I didn’t mean it.”

As he cried at your grave, a gust of wind blew against his hair in a soft breeze. Too lost in his tears, he couldn’t make out that it was your spirit attempting to comfort him.

A ghost of you rested on your grave as you looked down at your ex-boyfriend crying more than he ever has before. You got down on your knees to sit infront of him as he cried with his head down as you placed an empty hand on the side of his face, knowing he couldn’t feel your touch.

“I know you didn’t mean it, Katsuki…I know.”

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04

[sobsicles]

claire's not expecting them to be at the door. she blinks at the sight of four men all huddled on the stoop with flowers and what appears to be bags of food flowing from their arms. jack is peeking above a bouquet, beaming at her.

"who's at the door?!" jody calls from the kitchen, her voice muffled by the sound of grease popping and the clanking of pans and spatulas meeting over and over.

"god," claire calls back, because she likes to think she's funny.

there's a beat of silence, and then jody's sticking her head out the kitchen. the moment she sees them, she breaks out into a grin and saunters over, shoving the spatula in claire's hand as she chatters away.

"what's going on out there?" donna asks as claire escapes back to the kitchen to poke at food jody is apparently willing to burn just because the winchesters decided to show their faces today of all days.

"judgement day," claire says dryly.

donna shares a look with patience. "haven't we dealt with that already a few times?"

"only by association," claire admits, "but i wouldn't put it past them to bring it along with 'em now. the boys are here."

"oh, isn't that nice?" donna chirps, already popping up from her chair. "i didn't know they were stopping by today."

"wonder how sam's doing," patience agrees, wandering out the kitchen right along with donna. claire can hear everyone cracking up and talking in the living room.

trust the winchesters to shake things up just by showing up. can't have one goddamn day, can they? well, that's not true. in their case, as far as claire is concerned, they're shitty for showing up and shitty for not. someone has to knock 'em all down a peg or two, so she might as well be the one.

"what did that chicken ever do to you?" kaia asks teasingly as she sidles into the kitchen and stops by the stove, hip-checking claire out of the way to take over.

"the boys are here," claire informs her.

kaia raises her eyebrows. "like, the boys as in the winchesters, or is this a milkshake pun?"

"i can only be so gay, sweetheart," claire says, shooting her a flat look.

"raise the bar a little. could be gayer. you can always be gayer," kaia teases, reaching out to sneak her hand around claire's hip, her eyes bright with amusement.

"you know what? you're right," claire agrees and immediately tries to cop a feel while kaia laughs and dances out of range.

jack appears in the doorway. "hello," he says, whispering for some reason. "claire, i need your help."

"no," claire says, not even glancing at him. she continues to try and put her hand up kaia's shirt, just to see her laugh.

"can i borrow twenty dollars?" jack asks.

"no. aren't you god?"

"yes, but i don't get paid to be."

"well, sucks for you. borrow money from cas," claire mutters, settling in behind kaia as she focuses on the food on the stove, swatting lazily at claire's roaming hands.

"he'll just borrow money from dean."

"borrow from sam."

"he'll just borrow money from dean."

"borrow from—wait, why does it matter if it's from dean? just borrow from him."

jack huffs. "i can't. i need the money for dean. i have a card, and i read online it's customary to give money with a card. also, will you sign it?"

"you got dean a card?" claire asks, craning her head around to stare at jack skeptically.

"yes."

"don't tell me it's for what i think it is."

"mother's day," jack confirms unironically.

claire wheezes out a laugh. "oh my god."

"there's a pen in the catty on the fridge," kaia says, clearly amused.

"yeah. yeah, this is—yeah." claire chokes on more laughter and stumbles towards the group of pens in the magnet container on the fridge. she waggles her fingers at jack, clearing her throat, lips twitching. "hand it over, beanstalk. you're a fucking genius."

"oh! thank you," jack declares cheerfully, passing over the card. "so, can i borrow twenty dollars?"

"hell no," claire says. she braces the card against the fridge and swallows down a laugh. sam has already signed it. this just gets better and better. happy mother's day, old man, aka the secondary source of my mommy and daddy issues. you're going for gold with this double-whammy, she writes.

"but i need it," jack insists, staring at her with wide eyes.

claire shrugs. "tough break, kid. what, cas doesn't give you an allowance? is it just me, or are dads getting stricter these days?"

"i didn't think about it in advance," jack admits sadly. "i want to do it right for the holiday. it's mother's day, claire."

"i'm well aware. sorry to break it to you, kid, but last I checked, your mom's as dead as mine," claire tells him, her voice flat. he frowns and she forces herself not to feel bad. everything that sucks for him sucked for her first, so her sympathy levels are a little drained. "father's day will roll around eventually, and you've got a long line of those, so wait your turn."

"i've already done something for my mother today," jack says slowly, his eyebrows furrowed. "i visited her in heaven."

claire snorts derisively and passes the card back over. "must be nice."

"it was," jack agrees, completely missing the point. "i really can't borrow twenty dollars? i'll pay you back."

"nah," claire says. "who cares anyway? wait, why is dean the mom?"

"well, castiel is my father."

"ah, so it's about them having the hots for each other, then? really, kid, you coulda just made dean your step-dad."

jack blinks. "they have the...hots for each other? you mean sex. they have sex?"

"you know what?" claire points at him with her free hand. "i'm not gonna burst your bubble on that one. you've got enough issues on your own without wondering if mommy and daddy still have a spark, so I'm gonna leave that alone. i've got five dollars. take it or leave it."

"deal," jack says immediately.

money is exchanged, and jack looks like he's on cloud nine. claire's just stoked to see the expression on dean's face when he gets the card. it's a homemade card and everything, nothing like the two claire, kaia, patience, and alex got for jody and donna.

claire helps kaia finish up the chicken, which promptly gets set aside to wait on the rest of the food in the oven. sam wanders in at some point to drop off the food they brought. dessert, by the looks of it. pies and cakes that go in the fridge. it's kind of them, but claire would shoot herself in the foot before she ever admits it.

she lets kaia tug her into the living room where everyone is already at, rolling her eyes at how cheered everyone seems just because the winchesters happened to grace their doorstep. really, they all suck.

but also—and claire will never admit this, not even to save her own life—it's nice to see 'em again. it's nice that they've come to celebrate the day in jody and donna's name, giving them flowers and such. it's nice that they hang around for a bit and don't bring the world crashing down on everyone for the duration of their stay.

and, well, it's nice to see cas, too.

he perches up next to the couch that claire is squeezed on with alex, donna, kaia, and jack. kaia is practically in her lap, but claire is secretly glad for the excuse. while everyone talks and has conversations across one another, cas focuses entirely on her.

another thing claire will never admit is how reluctantly pleased by that she is. it warms her. stupidly, it turns soft and gooey in her chest that he automatically gives her his undivided attention over everyone else, even jack. but, then again, it's not cas' day, so she doesn't have to look too close to that feeling. it's mother's day, so it's not about him.

when the food is ready, they reconvene in the kitchen, and that's when they crack out the cards and gifts. claire is practically vibrating with laughter before jack has even brought his card out. before that, though, she smiles softly and strokes kaia's thigh under the table as jody and donna read their cards and chuckle at the messages, their gazes warm and their smiles sweet. they look happy. they deserve to be.

"okay, last one," claire announces, grinning at jack. she's starting to think she likes this kid if he's an agent of chaos like this.

and okay, maybe she hates him a little in abstract, but in detail, she finds that she does actually like him. you kinda just wanna put him in your pocket without meaning to, she's learned. there's too much to explore with the whole psuedo sibling thing and parents that aren't parents, as well as parents that are but didn't choose to be, only he did choose one of them, and it wasn't her. it's complicated, but underneath it all, there's a vibrant love there that she can't look directly at. sometimes, she despises that she's included in it; yet, just the same, she's thankful that she is.

"oh hell," dean mutters, swinging his gaze between alex and patience. "one of you...ya know? did we miss something?"

claire snorts.

"what? no," alex replies, grimacing. "i have no idea what claire's talking about. claire, what the hell are you talking about?"

"jack?" claire prompts in a wheeze.

"here you go," jack chirps, holding out the card to dean, beaming. "happy mother's day."

the expression on dean's face is somehow even better than claire imagined. she howls with laughter while sam buries his face in his hands, his shoulders jerking. cas squints at jack, and jody's eyebrows fly up at the same exact time that donna grins.

"is this a joke?" dean sputters.

"no, no, nope," claire chokes out, nearly fucking crying with laughter. "happy mother's day, dean."

"you gotta take it, man," sam agrees, clearing his throat and biting back a smile as he bobs his head dutifully towards the card.

dean fixes sam with a flat look and snatches the card. "you're all so fucking—sam, you signed it?!"

"happy mother's day," sam says, his mouth pinched, visibly trying not to laugh.

"do you like it?" jack asks earnestly. "i made the card, sam signed it first, and claire provided the money."

"i—" dean stares down at the card, then heaves a sigh and looks up at jack. it's clear to him that—out of everyone—jack is clearly taking this very seriously. he offers him a weak smile, then swallows. "yeah, s'great, kid. thank you. sam, you are dead to me. claire, i will be spending this on something you hate. cas, this is somehow your fault."

"yup, sounds like a mother to me," jody declares, holding up her beer with a smile.

"welcome to the club," donna agrees, holding hers up as well. "everyone else annoys the shit out of you, but you love 'em anyway."

dean sighs and clinks his beer to theirs.

[firefly-in-darkness]

Separation, Connection - [1/2]

Pairing →Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters → Marvel Characters

Summary → Your friendship with Bucky deterioates when you catch him in a compromising position with a fellow agent.

Word Count → 2.3k

SSB2021 Square Fill → “God I hate you” - @star-spangled-bingo

AFG Square Fill  → “What the fuck am I seeing?” @anyfandomgoesbingo

Warnings → 18+. Angst, Heartbreak, Jealousy, Swearing

Betas → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This one was sitting in my WIPs folder for ages, and after brainstorming with @writethelifeyouwant, this 2 parter was finished! Ps. I know I haven’t updated Worst Idea Ever in a while and I’m sorry - I’m just very stuck with it atm, the plot and majority of the story is planned out, I just can’t seem to fill in the blanks.

Firefly’s Masterlist

You and Bucky were close, and there was that little thin line between friendship and something more. Nothing had happened but, god, you had wanted it to. The secret crush you harboured for your teammate, your friend, had only grown over the years. Everyone thought you would be good together, commenting on how well you got along, that friendship was an important part of a relationship. Both of you rolling your eyes and laughing at their comments.

When you finally gathered the courage to tell him how you felt, you saw him with someone else. They were at the back of the training facility; the team were in a simulation of a terrorist attack on Paris and once the time on the training session was called, you stumbled across them.

They were just out of sight, hidden in a dark corner. And it wasn’t just a casual embrace. They were having sex, he was fucking her, hard, up against a wall. You froze at the sight of his bare bottom clenching with each thrust and the blissed-out look on her face. What the fuck am I seeing?! Heart shattered, you fled from the room without a sound, not wanting to disturb them or for anyone to see you crying.

It hurt too much to be as close to him after that, you consciously decided to withdraw from the friendship. Not going straight to him when entering a room or staying in bed instead of heading to the rooftop where you’d usually wander at five in the morning to talk with Bucky, putting the world to right.

And of course, Bucky noticed. It had been a week since you had joined him for a midnight chat in the kitchen. He was missing his best friend. He wanted to share his life with her, and she was nowhere to be seen unless someone else was in the room. 

Bucky knew it was a bad sign when you chose to sit next to Wanda, not sandwiched between him and Nat, on movie night. He felt alone in a room full of friends, as they watched a film about a love triangle set in England. It was supposed to be funny, but Bucky didn’t hear the jokes, let alone the punchlines. 

Nat had realised something was wrong too. She saw the dark circles under your eyes when you drained the coffee from the cup in the morning and the puffy redness from crying in the middle of the day. She had detested the way you and Bucky were before, it was like a pair of magnets drawn together, a connected ribbon, a gravitational pull. But now? Well, you were repelling within a few meters of one another, and she hated that even more.

“What did you do, Barnes?” Nat whispered harshly, eyes still on the film.

“Nothing.” Bucky looked over to you, sleeping with your head resting on Wanda’s lap.

“So why is Wanda looking at you like that?” She raised an eyebrow.

Bucky lifted his gaze, saw the fiery red eyes staring back at him as she stroked your hair, a soft red mist falling over you. He frowned at the Sokovian and tried to talk telepathically but she shook her head and looked back at the television.

On autopilot, you ran from your room to his bedroom door, knocking until the screams died down. Long ago, you’d learnt to not enter the room until he’d settled down, had the bruises to your neck and dealt with the guilt-ridden expression on Bucky’s face for weeks.

Pressing your ear to the door, you could hear Bucky moving about and slowly pushed it open so as not to startle him. A soft glow from the lamp at his bedside welcomed you in, he'd stacked his pillows against the headboard with his knees drawn up and resting his head in his hands.

“Hi, Buck. It’s me.” You spoke softly, his head and eyes shot up to meet yours.

You walked over and sat at the end of the bed, averting your eyes to the floor and fingers fiddling with the edge of a blanket, waiting for him to respond.

“What did I do doll?” He croaked, fingers running through his hair, his knees dropping down.

Your heart raced and you were certain he could hear the harsh thumps, but your voice remained steady, “It's nothing, just need a little time to process some things.”

“You normally come to me. What's different?” His voice was strained, thick with distress.

Standing up, you walked towards the window, arms wrapped tightly around your torso. You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face, but you remained focused on the navy sky fading to blues and oranges with the sunrise.

“I can't this time Buck, I need space. I need space from you.” With each word, your heart fractured along the lines you’d attempted to piece together with being away from him.

“Get out then, just leave me alone.” His tone was now harsh, stronger than before.

“God, I hate you.” Without a final glance, you left the room. Your heart in tatters once more.

Once in the safety of your room, the sob heaved out of you. Bucky had disregarded you so easily, he let you go without a second thought. And you didn’t know what was worse; what you saw a week ago or what he just said.

Bucky finished his 76th lap when someone caught his eye. It was you. His best friend. The one he stupidly let go of. It had been three months since he'd told you to leave, and you hadn't gone back on his word.

Of course, Bucky was just as stubborn and hadn't approached you unless it was work-related. But there was something different about you. His eyes focused on the man you were standing with, and how you glowed, and Bucky just couldn't stand that you were feeling that way about a random recruit and not him.

“She used to look at you that way.” Wanda’s voice echoed in his head.

He scanned the field and found her figure leaning against a tree, shading herself from the summer sun and a book in hand. Bucky grabbed the small towel and wiped away the sweat, swigging his water bottle, then joined her on the grass.

“What are you talking about? She’s never looked at me like that.” He gestured towards you and the agent.

Wanda chuckled and shook her head, “You're not blind, or stupid, Bucky, she adored you. Still does, even though I wish she would get over you.”

His brow creased. “She wanted space, ended our friendship.” 

Wanda’s eyes flashed red, “And you broke her heart.” 

“Show me.” Bucky held out his hand, pleading with her, “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“I can’t Bucky. It's private, she would never forgive me.” Wanda shook her head and placed her book in her lap, “I've seen what she's done to you, I'm not going to lose her too.”

Bucky sprang to his feet and kicked at the grass. “Then just tell me what you know. Just something?” He turned to face you, hands on his hips as he tried to think of what he’d done.

“Paris terrorist simulation,” Wanda stated without emotion.

Bucky turned around, seeing nothing but a neutral expression on her face. The simulation had been a success, the whole team had done well but he hadn’t seen you at the debriefing. Steve said you were exhausted and needed to rest. 

“What about it?” asked Bucky.

“Don't deny it. I saw it, I felt it. She had no chance of blocking me from that pain.” Wanda stood up, eyes flickering red, “you and that agent. I thought you were better than that Bucky.”

“Shit.” 

Bucky knew exactly what Wanda had meant before she explained. Shame coursed through him; he'd broken your trust by not telling you about the agent he’d been hooking up with. Honestly, he didn't want you to know, didn't want you to judge him for the flings he had. Subconsciously, he knew that was what your distancing was about because he hadn't seen her again or hooked up with anyone since.

All he wanted was you back in his life; he was going to make it happen.

Wanda smirked, shaking her head before walking ahead of him, “Best get a move on Barnes, she’s not thinking of him in a platonic way.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he strutted towards you, determined to get you back.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder and he could only hope you still felt the same way.

You couldn’t believe Bucky dared to pull rank on you in front of another agent. That he had the gall to do such a thing after he told you to leave him alone, how he betrayed your trust as a friend and unknowingly broke your heart.

You stormed down the blurry corridors as anger took the form of tears. Your whole body tense and determined to get away from the assassin on your tail. People parted like the sea as they saw your strut and scowl, you scoffed at their reaction and thought, this must be what it’s like to be Bucky on a mission. Using it to your advantage, you managed to pull someone by the arm and into the path of the Winter Soldier.

While you sprinted away, you glanced back and spotted Bucky helping the woman to her feet, apologising profusely and then realising it was the agent you had caught him with. Your blood boiled as you pushed through the door to the stairwell, it slammed against the wall and probably damaged it, but you didn’t care anymore.

It wasn’t until the breeze hit your face that you realised where you were. You’d come to the rooftop, the exact spot that you’d air all your worries with Bucky. It was the place you’d first bonded outside of the team. 

A hand dragged down your face and your shoulders slumped. You spun on your heel, ready to escape when you stopped short. There he was, blocking the doorway. You groaned, of course, he knew exactly where you’d go even before you did.

“I just want to talk.” Bucky quietly spoke, a hint of a question in his tone but a statement all the same.

“I’ll scale down the side of this building if I have to.” You stepped back towards the edge.

Bucky growled and walked towards you, “would you quit being so stubborn and dramatic for one second?”

“Just leave me alone.” You threw his own words back at him, stopping him in his tracks.

At that moment, you could see that Bucky realised how hurtful those words were, but you weren’t going to console him anytime soon. He should suffer for how he spoke to you and for never attempting to speak to you until now.

Bucky slowly circled you towards the edge, his eyes focused on you while you turned in tandem following his moves. He reached the railing then settled down into a seated position, legs hanging over the side, his chest against the metal pole.

“Are you going to join me?” Bucky’s gaze now on the horizon.

With a roll of your eyes, you sat beside him, but at least a metre apart, you couldn’t get that close to him. He was too intoxicating, and your emotions were incredibly high, even if they were full of anger and hurt, and you didn’t trust yourself not to succumb to his charm.

“Are you going to talk then?” You sassed back at him.

“I’m sorry for what you saw. You shouldn’t have seen that.” Bucky didn’t hold back, “I was going to tell you, I just thought you’d judge me.”

“I’d judge you. For sleeping with a colleague. In the middle of a training simulation?” You scoffed, “You didn’t tell me about her. Or anyone else for that matter. Natasha filled me in on all your little late night rendezvous when I was on missions.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Bucky knew he’d not win this conversation and scrambled to bring it back onto his side, “you were away, and I needed something, someone.”

“So, you used them and used me too?” You glared at him.

“That’s not what I said,” Bucky seethed, annoyed at the way you were twisting his words but not surprised with the pain you felt. 

You continued, ignoring his comment, unable to stop the words falling from your lips, “I gave you emotional support. Watched you cry yourself to sleep after a nightmare, held your hand when you had a panic attack during a mission.” You shook your head at him, “I just wasn’t good enough for the sex part.”

Bucky held your chin and pulled your face to look at him, “You mean more to me than that. I just didn’t know how you felt. If I’d had known-”

You jerked away from his touch, it felt too nice, it felt like home, but you weren’t ready to fall back into this friendship. He knew how you felt, and you weren’t ready for his rejection. You still needed your space.

Swiftly, you returned to your feet, brushing down your trousers and hands, “Thank you for your apology, but I can’t forgive you.”

Bucky stood up and watched you begin to leave, “I’ll do my best to make you see how much you mean to me.”

You paused in the doorway, but you had to be strong, to carry on walking away, you couldn’t let him hurt you again. It was time to move on.

Continue Here...

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7 / @fandomfic-galore / @writerwrites / @thefridgeismybestie / @wedonttalkaboutitenough / @courtneychicken / @persephonesinfernos / @miraclesoflove

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers / @little-baby-vixen / @stuckonjbbarnes / @starlightcrystalline / @nekoannie-chan / @hailhydra920 / @vollzeitliebe / @fitzsimmons-is-forever / @ladyacrasia / @emmabarnes / @selfsun

strike through - unable to tag.

[seiyasabi]

Yamaguchi’s Awakening

(Here’s a Yandere Yamaguchi Tadashi x Female Reader story :PP I know you only mentioned a Mommy fic, but I kinda added a lil more ‘spice’ to that lol, so I hope that’s okay! If not, feel free to message me! Also, he’s known the stutter, so I made it a bit prevalent in the story. Sorry if that’s annoying.

TW: !Noncon/dubcon!, Mommy kink!, !You are p mean lol, Painslut Yama!, Masochist Yama!, You physically fight him but he loves it, practically wrestles you to the floor!, thigh fucking, creampie!, Calls himself baby boy but alternates that w ‘pig slut!’, etc.. 

Please proceed with caution!) 

You woke up to Tadashi’s moans, eyes practically popping open in both terror and confusion. You’d taken a nap whilst waiting for him to come home from work, but you hadn’t expected to wake up to such a lewd sound. 

Pushing yourself up with shaky arms, your slip’s thin straps slide off of your moisturised shoulders, causing more of your cleavage to show in the skimpy garment. Tired eyes land on the green haired man’s slumped form, his long, lean body practically falling off of a plush chair on the other side of the room. His large hand is fisting his cock at an alarming pace, while his hips stutter upwards to meet his ministrations. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You frown in mild annoyance, scoffing in disgust. Is he really getting off to your sleeping form? 

“Mu-Mommy!” His face is pulled into the perfect Ahegao expression, tongue lolling out stupidly, as drool drips down his chin. Beads of sweat intermix with his perfectly scattered freckles, and if it weren’t for the fact that Tsukishima helped him kidnap you, you most likely would have found it arousing, “Puh-Please pu-punish me! I-I’m such a-a bad boy!” 

Screwing your face up in disgust, you practically spit venom at him, “Oh my God, you’re fucking disgusting. How dare you-” 

With a loud whine, he cums. His liquidy release coats his chest in large streaks, partially splashing himself in the face with his own spunk. The liquid creates a large puddle on the floor, demonstrating just how much semen he’s stored in his purple tinged balls. The sight before you has left you absolutely speechless, as Tadashi keens and whines for you to punish him. 

“Please, please, Mommy! I-I need you to-” 

“What the actual fuck did I just witness?” Your eyes never leave the puddle on your room’s wood look tile, “Oh my God, you’re such a disgusting pervert.”

At your words, the freckled man practically throws his naked body onto your lap, “Yu-you chose me! That means that you love me, right? A-and if Mommy loves me, she should punish me for being bad! Please hit me!” His previously softened cock is now standing back at attention, humping at your exposed legs. 

One of your perfectly manicured hands (thanks to Yamaguchi’s hard work) shoves his head off of your stomach, “Get the fuck off of me! Clearly, I chose wrong, because you’re just a slobbering pig!” Tears bead his large eyes, but the tall man doesn’t back down. He continues to try to rut against you, causing your shoves to become more violent, until you effectively shove him off of your bed. He lands on the hard ground with a ‘smack,’ as he moans on impact. 

“Ye-yes! Hi-hit me mu-more! I de-deserve it, your baby bu-boy deserves it!” He tries once more to crawl his way onto you, but you react far quicker than him. You use the ball of your foot to push him away by the forehead, dropping him back onto the cold floor. 

“Stay the fuck away from me! I knew I should’ve liked your asshole for a best friend, at least he wouldn’t be such a fucking weirdo!” You push yourself off of your bed, trying to escape to the bathroom, but it’s to no avail. Tadashi, in some sort of lucidity, drags you to the ground with him. His lean form tries to trap you to the floor, but your thrashing limbs and harsh elbows keep him from getting too close, “Stop it! Let go of me-”

“Du-don’t say you want someone else! Your precious piggy will do anything you want! Let your baby boy make his Mommy feel good!” You end up on your back, allowing your hands to worm their way between the two of you, and create a small distance. Taking full advantage of that, you get a single hand up by your face, which gives you the perfect opportunity to slap the dogshit out of the feral man. 

He moans breathily, as if he’s savouring the feeling of your harsh touches, “You’re fucking pathetic, Yamaguchi. No one would willingly choose you, which is why you lied and manipulated me!” You smack him multiple more times, his freckled, drooly cheeks quickly becoming bright red. You force your knees against his toned stomach, kneeing him uncomfortably in the ribs, which he just pushed more of his weight on. 

“Yes! Yes! Tell me more of the things you hate about me! Your harsh words are almost enough to make me cum!” Screwing up your face in absolute fury, you punch him in the throat, whilst simultaneously kicking him in the cock, causing him to cum immediately with a small scream, “Mu-Mommy, your piggy is cumming!” His hot, watery cum lands on your slip clad body, making you want to vomit. So, in a last ditch effort, you shove him off whilst he’s still recovering from a second intense orgasm. 

Scrambling to your feet, you make a break for the bathroom door, only to be dragged down to the floor by a firm grip on your ankle. Tadashi’s hot, wet body slots itself on top of yours, effectively pinning you down. Although he may be quite slim, his sheer size is enough to weigh you down. 

“Get off of me! You’re fucking sick!” He pants next to your ear, practically trying to mount you like a dog. His chest is firmly against your back, pushing down your lower half. His knees spread yours apart, allowing him to slot himself between your legs. 

You try to hit him, but because he’s behind you, your hits don’t land very hard. Both of his hands fumble whilst he tries to push your panties down, causing you to thrash even more than before. Growing tired of your ministrations, he rips the garment from your pussy. 

“Stop it! Yamaguchi, get off of me! Don’t do this to me!” Tears drip down your face in thick rivulets, as you sob in pure fury, “I-I’ll never forgive you! I’ll never forgive a pathetic fuck like you! I should have never become your friend- you don’t deserve any!” He lightly moans at your words, not quite listening to what you have to say, but enjoying your harsh tone. 

“Ye-yes, Mommy! Threaten me! I love how you belittle me so well!” He then tries to force his long cock inside of you, but is unsuccessful. You’d just barely moved your thighs together in time, blocking him from breaching your unprepared walls. But, that doesn’t seem to faze him, as he starts to hump your sweat slickened thighs, “Oh-oh my God, your thighs feel so good, Mommy! Your piggy slut loves them!” His eyes are practically rolling to the back of his head, as multiple squirts of precum escape his cock, slicking your pussy opening inadvertently. 

You throw your elbows at his head again, but he just lets them hit him, relishing your harsh blows. If anything, your attempted hits trigger him to hump you even faster. Which, in turn, unfortunately, causes him to accidentally hook his cockhead on your cunny opening, and force his prick inside of you. Your mouth gapes in both shock and pain, as you let out a shrill scream. He slams a sweaty hand over your mouth, fortunately minding your nose, letting you breathe through it. His entire body is convulsing, as he sits inside of you, relishing your twitching walls around his cock. 

“Mu-Mommy’s piggy lu-loves Mommy’s pu-pussy!” In quick, sudden movements, he bucks his hips into yours, his breeder balls slapping against your clit with every thrust. Your pants and light moans are muffled behind his hand, as you continue to cry and try to get free. Your thrashing does nothing but seat you further on his long cock, allowing him to hit your g-spot with every movement. Your pussy gushes at his ministrations, as you fall limp, “Fu-fuck, Mommy! Mommy, I-I’m gunna cum!” 

Your slack mouth tries to deny him, but your eyes practically roll up into your skull as you cum suddenly, spraying girl cum on his cock and on the floor below your chest, practically covering your entire torso. Feeling your orgasm milking his cock, Yamaguchi cums quickly after you, filling you to the brim with his watery, overabundant cum. It was like he was trying to fill every crevice inside of you with his milk, relishing how well you take him. You practically collapse to the ground, no longer having the strength to hold yourself off of the now slick wood look tile. This, in turn, causes his still cumming cock to fall out of you, spraying your ass and thighs with his seed. 

Yamaguchi strokes himself, trying to wring out as much cum as possibly on your crumpled, fucked out form. He looks down at you with an innocent grin, before smooching you kindly on the face, “Thank you, Mommy, your baby boy feels sooo much better, now that I’ve filled your pretty cunny! Do you want a bath?” 

You say nothing, seemingly still in shock at what just transpired. Yams coos at you, trying to gain your attention, but when you don’t respond, he takes it upon himself to clean you up. 

“It’s okay, sometimes when Tsukki would experiment with me, I’d be too sore to move, too! Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re all pretty and clean after a long, hot bath.” 

With wobbly legs, the tall man stalks off to the bathroom, not batting an eye at your weird silence. 

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

Ouija Board // Tate Langdon

request: none

prompts: none

warnings: use of a ouija board, murder, crying, scaring people

a/n: i just used random names for the friends, so sorry if that’s your name :)

“Come on y/n, don’t chicken out on us now!” Liz said, dragging you towards the house.

“It’ll be fun! I promise,” Dylan said, grabbing a large rock to break the doorknob.

You were stood in front of the infamous Murder House. And stupidly, you let your friends talk you into coming here and using a ouija board. You never really believed in ghosts or anything like that, but you were still scared nonetheless.

“There are easier ways to get in you know,” Liz said, rolling her eyes as Dylan smashed the rock against the doorknob, knocking it to the floor.

“Yeah but this is more fun.”

“Should we really be doing this? We could get in trouble for breaking in. I don’t think I could survive jail.”

“Oh my god y/n, we’ll be fine. And Dylan knows what he’s doing. Besides, don’t you wanna talk to ghosts?”

“Nope, not really.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun.”

“Ok, I got the door open!”

The two of you looked towards the door where Dylan was. The door was now open, and he had already walked inside. You felt your stomach drop, wanting nothing more than to get out of there. But Liz had other plans. She grabbed your arm and began to drag you inside.

With a sigh, you gave up on fighting and figured you might as well try to have fun. When you vented the house, an overwhelming smell of mold filled your senses. It was disgusting. There was sheets over the furniture, and leftover belongings scattered everywhere.

“That’s weird, there isn’t any dust here,” Dylan said as he swiped his finger along the mantle.

“Maybe there’s a maid ghost who has to spend eternity cleaning. That sounds like an awful afterlife,” Liz replied, laughing softly.

“Can we just get this over with already? I’m getting bad vibes from this place,” you said, feeling as if someone’s eyes were trained on you.

“That’s kinda the point. This is supposedly the most haunted building in the world. So many people have been brutally murdered. I would give anything to live here.”

“Dylan, you are really fucked up,” Liz said while laughing.

You rolled your eyes at your best friends, and followed them deeper into the house, until you arrived in front of a door.

“Here it is, the basement. I’ve read online, that most of the ghosts like to stay down there.”

“Let’s go!” Liz squealed, pushing the door open and speeding down the stairs.

Dylan followed her, leaving you alone at the top of the stairs. You sighed and started to walk down the steps. The. you heard a noise from behind you. You quickly turned around to see that the door was shut.

You brushed it off, thinking you must’ve bumped it, and continued down the stairs to find Dylan and Liz setting the ouija board up. You sat down beside them and tried to calm yourself, knowing it would all be over soon.

“Ok, place your fingers on the cup, and then we can talk to the ghosts.”

You and Liz did what Dylan said, placing your fingers on top of the glass placed in the middle of the bored.

“Is there anyone there?” Dylan asked.

Nothing happened for a second, but then the cup started to move. It dragged itself over to the ‘yes’ and then stopped.

“Oh my god,” you murmured, starting to feel fear come over you.

“What’s your name?” Liz asked the ghost.

The cup moved again, and began to spell out a name.

H-A-Y-D-E-N

“Y/n, ask them something!” Liz said smiling excitedly.

“Is there anything you want to tell us?” you asked, not really sure that you wanted an answer.

R-U-N

The lights in the basement flickered off leaving you guys in the darkness.

“I’m pretty sure that’s our cue to leave,” you said, beginning to stand up.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Liz said.

The three of you got up and ran towards the straits, trying to get out of the basement. Liz and Dylan made it out, but the door slammed in front of you before you could follow.

You pulled on the door knob but it wouldn’t budge. You started to pound on the door, screaming for Liz and Dylan, but they were too far away to here you.

“They can’t hear you. They already left,” a voice behind you said.

You turned around and stared into the darkness.

“Who are you?” you asked, feeling your voice quiver.

“Wow, you forgot me already? Ouch. I’m Hayden, remember? I told you to run, but I guess you didn’t wanna listen.”

You didn’t get the chance to say anything, before you felt yourself being shoved down the stairs. You tumbled down them, before landing on the concrete floor of the basement.

You carefully tried to pull yourself up, but you were immediately pushed back down again. The lights turned on and you screamed at what you saw before you. A monster like creature hovered above you, and the next thing you saw was black.

~

You slowly opened your eyes and sat up, feeling your conscious come back to you. You looked around, panicking, trying to remember where you were. Then it all came back to you. The basement. Murder House. Liz and Dylan. They left you.

You wanted to be angry, but you didn’t have the time. Right now, you just had to get out of here. You wanted to go home and be safe in your room. You took off running, heading up the stairs and out of the basement.

You ran toward the front door, pushing it open and heading towards the street. But then, you were back in the house. You ran out again, only to end up back inside once more. You tried over, and over to leave, but you couldn’t. You kept ending up back inside the house.

You gave up. You let your weight fall against a wall behind you, and slid down it, curling into a. ball sobbing. We’re you going crazy? What was happening to you? Why couldn’t you leave? Why can’t you remember anything after entering the basement?

Then you felt a presence beside you. A teenage boy, with wavy blond hair and dark brown eyes. He was beautiful. You might’ve been feeling butterflies, if not for the overwhelming sense of panic that currently filled you.

“Hey, I’m Tate,” he said smiling softly.

“Y/n,” you replied hesitantly.

“So, I bet you’re pretty confused right now.”

“How’d you know?”

“Well, I saw you running around, trying to leave.”

“Why can’t I?”

He fell silent for a moment, and locked away.

“Uhm, you’re dead.”

Your eyes widened and you immediately stood up and backed away from him.

“What? I’m not dead! My friends and I came here to talk to ghosts and now they’re gone and I can’t leave. But I’m not dead! That’s crazy!”

“Y/n, I saw you die. I moved your body,” he paused for a second before continuing,” Do you wanna see it?”

“Wait so let me get this straight. You just watched me get murdered and did nothing about it, you moved my body, and now you wanna show it to me? You’re crazy! None of this makes sense! I’m not dead! I can’t be dead! I think I would remember dying!”

“You can’t. No one can. I don’t remember my own death. I’ve only heard what people told me.”

“Oh really? You’re dead too? Fine, then tell me? How did you die?”

He went silent once more.

“I don’t wanna tell you.”

“See, I knew it! You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying, it’s just-, if I tell you, you’re going to be scared of me.”

You laughed once more, not believing a word that he was saying.

“I doubt that. If you really are dead, just tell me!”

“Fine! I was shot by the cops.”

Then it hit you. Shot by the cops. You remembered hearing about that when Dylan went on one of his rants about the house. Wait, Tate as in Tate Langdon? The guy who shot up your high school in the 90s?

“Do you believe me know?” he asked softly.

“Oh my god. You were that guy who shot up my high school like thirty years ago right? Wait, so you are telling the truth. But I, I can’t be dead. There’s so much I still wanted to do. I’ve never even fallen in love, I’ll never have a future. I’ll never get to do anything with my life.”

You started to sob again, realization washing over you. He wasn’t lying. You were dead. You were really dead. You felt a pair of arms wrap around you, and you looked up to find Tate hugging you.

Slowly you wrapped your arms around him, desperately searching for comfort. But that said comfort was soon gone when someone else started to speak.

“Aw, am I interrupting something?”

That voice. You’ve heard it before. Part of it came back to you. It was her. She pushed you down the stairs. You pulled away from Tate and glared at the girl.

“You! You killed me!” you yelled at her.

“No, no, no. I didn’t kill you. I just helped that creature down there do it.”

“Why? Why would you do that?”

“It was getting boring. I wanted someone new around here.”

“Go away Hayden,” Tate said, glaring at her.

“Ugh fine,” she said before disappearing.

“Well, I guess I’ll show you around?”

a few months later

It’s been a few months since you’ve died, and you’ve already adjusted to your new life. Things weren’t so bad. You were kinda friends with Violet, and you and Tate have been dating for a while.

Being dead didn’t really bother you anymore. You’ve started to see the bright side of it. No more getting sick. You didn’t have to take your finals. And you never had to see your so called “friends” who left you here to die.

At least that’s what you thought. You and Tate were sitting together in the basement when the door opened. You didn’t think much of it, until you heard a familiar voice.

“How do you even know she’s here?”

You gasped. It was Liz. And Dylan was walking right behind her. They were back. You were so angry at them for leaving you. They left you behind to die.

The two of them sat down next to you and Tate, setting up their ouija board. You looked at Tate and smirked. You were going to have fun with this.

“Is anyone there?” Dylan asked.

You walked over to them and pushed the cup to yes.

“Who are you?” Liz said, seeming a little more nervous than she was the last time she was here.

You moved the glass to spell out your name, laughing when you saw how scared the looked.

“Y/n, we’re so sorry! We thought you were behind us! And when we finally got outside, the door wouldn’t open,” Dylan said.

You moved the cup once more.

Y-O-U-L-E-F-T-M-E

“Y/n we’re sorry! No one believed us when we went to get help. Your parents thought you ran away. We tried! We really did!” Liz pleaded.

Y-O-U-D-I-D-N-T-E-V-E-N-C-O-M-E-B-A-C-K

“We were too scared. We’re so sorry. Y/n, please.”

You and Tate laughed at their pleas. You weren’t going to forgive them. You couldn’t. Not after what they did to you.

“Go mess with the lights!” you asked Tate.

He nodded and ran over to the light switch, flicking it on and off.

“Dylan, maybe we should get out of here!”

L-E-A-V-I-N-G-S-O-S-O-O-N-?

“No we’re not! Liz, come on we have to talk to her.”

“I don’t know Dylan, they seem angry.”

You decided to let them hear you. You kept yourself hidden, but let your voice be heard.

“Angry? Why would I be angry? It’s not like the only people I’ve ever trusted forced me to come when I said I didn’t want to and them left me to die. Oh wait? That did happen.”

When you finished speaking, Tate left the lights off. The door opened at the top of the stairs, and Dylan and Liz ran. They left the board and left the basement, heading for the open front door. Before they could get out, Tate slammed it shut. They both screamed.

“Aw, you’re leaving already?” you asked, before laughing.

Then you let them see you. You appeared in front of the door, and you made your wounds visible too.

They gasped when they saw you. Covered in scratches and dripping blood. Clothes torn to shreds. Bruises littering you.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Liz said stepping closer to you.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m sorry,” Dylan said to you.

You didn’t say anything you only glared at them. Then Tate appeared beside you.

“You two should leave before you’re not able to anymore.”

Then you and Tate disappeared and opened the door, allowing them to run out, before slamming it shut once more.

As soon as they were gone, you both burst out laughing. Sure you’ve scared people who’ve tried to buy the house before, but this was the best reaction you’ve ever gotten. They were terrified.

“So do you finally feel like you got your revenge?” Tate asked, smiling brightly at you.

“Yeah, thanks for helping me,” you said, pulling him into a tight hug.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’d do anything for you.”

~

Taglist: @ahsxual @darlingkitt @1800-fuckbitchesgetmoney @horrorgirlx @jamespotterslover

[whumpzone]

everyone wants to see col broken, but i want to see linden broken. maybe sick with a fever so bad he's totally out of it, maybe with a broken bone, maybe with the kind of panic attack that takes you out of reality and leaves you completely drained. i want to see how col scrambles to care for him with his still-unfamiliar hands, when linden isn't even in the headspace to praise or thank him.

yes!!! CW for general illness & mentions of pills/medicine

-

Linden woke- rather, he was pulled forcibly from sleep- to a pounding headache. He kept his eyes shut and furrowed his brow, realising slowly that his whole body hurt, not just his head. He was on his back- when he tried to roll into the foetal position, his muscles complained as if he’d hiked up a mountain yesterday.

“Mmph,” he grunted. The small noise irritated his throat enough to set off a coughing fit. He finally opened his bleary eyes. He was definitively ill. He groaned, grinding his head weakly into the pillow.

-

Pet didn’t see Master all morning. The sun was in the middle of the sky, casting only slim shadows, when he gathered his courage and went to check on him. Every step felt like a mistake. He was disturbing him, he was attention seeking, Master was probably busy, he was doing something that didn’t concern the stupid little animal he kept around, and Pet was going to get ordered away at best and punished at worst.

Still, he gently knocked on Master’s bedroom door. The action hurt his knuckles. “Col,” he heard, just barely, from inside. “Come in, please.”

Master’s voice didn’t sound right. He didn’t look right, either, when Pet pushed open the door. He was still in bed, his long hair stuck to his face with sweat. His dark skin looked flushed-out and pallid, and his eyes were half-lidded. Two pupils slowly met his own.

Oh, god. Master was dying.

Pet rushed and collapsed to his knees at Master’s bedside, his mind racing to find a solution. He wanted to cry out, ask what is it, where does it hurt, what do I need to do?

But he couldn’t. He could only stare stupidly, his mouth parted with worry, eyes big and searching. Master saw his panic and slowly spoke. It looked like the words were painful.

“I’m okay, I’ve just-“ he coughed, turning his face away. “I think I’ve got the flu. It’s fine, it’s-“ another few seconds of coughing. “Okay, I’m quite badly ill.”

He half-groaned, half-laughed. Pet’s heart was still thumping out of his chest, but he made himself nod. Master pressed his face into the pillow, a pained look on his face. His eyebrows were drawn close, heavy over his eyes, and his lips were pressed into a thin line. Pet stared, waiting, but Master didn’t speak anymore. He was tense, like he was trying to stave off an invisible pain.

A car rumbled past outside. Had… had Master fallen asleep? Pet wouldn’t dare touch him without permission, so instead he got up and looked down. It felt so wrong. Pet should be the one laid out, sweaty and barely conscious.

He had to help. What did Master need? Paracetamol? He knew that word, from somewhere. Had Master given him some, when he burnt his own hand? He went to the bathroom and retrieved the packet. Water. Pet would get him water, too. He’d be a good, useful dog.

Pet’s mind wandered as he completed the task. So often his thoughts were preoccupied with what Master could do, what he was capable of, all the ways he could hurt Pet in that moment. Constantly vigilant of any attack. Would he kick him? Whatever was in reach, would he smash it against his head? Would he reach out and slap him?

But right now, Master really couldn’t do anything. He was weak, he was tired. He could barely open his eyes- would he notice, say, if Pet failed to kneel quickly enough? If he didn’t cast his eyes down, or if he was slow? He wouldn’t do any of that, of course. Pet knew he shouldn’t be thinking this way, but he also knew he wasn’t considering anything disloyal. Just because Master was incapacitated didn’t mean Pet would let his own training slip, or- god forbid- try to hurt Master or slow his recovery. Never. It was just… an interesting thought, the fact that Pet wasn’t at risk of harm right now.

He also thought about how seeing Master this way, pained and exhausted, evoked a strange feeling he hadn’t felt for his old owner, even as he died. All Pet could feel back then was hopelessness, and fear. He had felt like a balloon cut loose and left to fly, unguided, into the abyss. Here, he could tell that the drive to help Master feel better was motivated by more than his obligation to serve, more than his fear of his owner dying. Seeing Master so reduced had created a strange sadness in Pet. He didn’t like it.

-

Master didn’t look much better when Pet returned, a glass of water in one hand and the pills in the other. He knew it was disgusting, to give his owner pills that had been handled by an animal, but he didn’t know how else to give them to him. He wasn’t sure Master would be able to open the packet by himself.

He was curled up, his face still taut, and breathing far too shallowly. It made Pet’s heart seize up. This was wrong wrong wrong.

Kneeling, he put the glass down and tried to gently wake Master. He knew he would get in trouble for touching his owner, for daring to disturb him, but he had to help. Master opened one eye and Pet proffered the glass.

It took both of Master’s hands gripping it, with Pet supporting the base of the glass, for him to drink enough to swallow the pills. Once he was done he immediately slumped back into bed with a groan, and shut his eyes.

-

By the third day, Master was improving a lot. But, naturally, he didn’t have any time for his Pet. He understood, he really did. Master had to focus on recovering and look after himself.

Still…

He was getting really hungry. He had no way of asking, and duh, it kept him dependent on his owner’s mercy, as he should be. But he worried that if Master didn’t grant him the privilege soon, he would be useless at helping fetch pills, water, warm blankets, anything. He was already starting to wobble a lot more as he walked. Once he thought he would actually fall onto his owner.

Pet tried to push the hunger away. He had to focus, this was important! He had to be perfect. He could hear Master’s voice in his head, once he was back to full health.

You just let me suffer in that bedroom, you fucking mongrel. No help, no care, I don’t know why I ever kept you in the first place. You can get out and never come back, you hear me?

So he ignored the void in his stomach. Tried to compensate for the way his limbs ached. If this was a test, he was going to pass. He had to.

-

tagging: @newbornwhumperfly @whumpadump1939 @firewheeesky @whump-me-all-night-long @captainseconds @grizzlie70 @unicornscotty @lave-whump @princessofonward @cupcakes-and-pain @bumbumbea @whumpfigure @yet-another-heathen @secretwhumplair @whumps-up @as-a-matter-of-whump @getyourwhumphere @itzagoodthing @whumpymirages @soapparentlyilikewhumpnow @zipadeedooda-drabbles @penny-for-your-whump @briars7 @legallylibra @angel-stars @loyds-of-registry @tears-and-lilies @badluck990 @rosesareviolentlyread @vickytokio @neuro-whump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpsy-daisies @control-whumps @theydy-cringeworthy @starnight-whump @cursedandtired @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @justabitofwhump @glamrockgregory @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @genesissane @justbreakonme @addyez @httyd-chocolate @littlespacecastle @haro-whumps @extrabitterbrain @neverthelass @downrivergirl914

[spencersawkward]

top shelf//MGG - part 1

summary: broke and having a bad day, Reader runs into Matthew outside a café. after a couple encounters, his financial support and friendship become something more.

word count: 3k

content warnings: swearing but nothing else!

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

A/N: hi! welcome to my new series. i don’t think this will be super long in terms of parts, but i’ll try to update as frequently as possible for you all. this chapter is pretty expositional, so i’m sorry in advance lol. also i know i made it short but lmk if you want them to be longer. also shoutout my sweet sweet angels @reidsconverse and @voidsfilm bc i would literally cry without both of you. also THANK YOU to @dr-spencerr-reidd for this concept bc i probably wouldn't have written it without your ask!! sending hugs :)

you throw your phone down on the passenger seat with a frustrated groan. after everything that's happened today, you're now stuck on a congested street with your car barely inside the parking spot alongside the sidewalk.

your screen sits there beside you, blank and unresponsive, and you know you're going to have to go inside the coffee shop to ask to use their phone and call Triple A. of course it's not working because nothing is working today. you might as well just sit in your car and cry.

but you can't, because you have a huge project for work that you need to get done by next week, and you've already procrastinated enough. a red glow from the headlights of other cars on the street shine through your windows like melted wax, distorted by the rain. it's been pouring all day.

bracing yourself for the onslaught, you grab the old umbrella from the foot well of the passenger seat and open the door of your car. the torrents hit your body like a wall of ice, soaking you as you try to get to the safety of the café. the umbrella helps a little, but then you get to the overhang and have to actually close it before you head inside.

your fingertips slip around the metal, trying to shove the thing closed while water drips off the bridge of your nose. it's frustrating. your footsteps are still determined as they move towards the entrance, but you're distracted by the stubborn nature of the object, so you don't see the man walking out.

it's not even a bodily collision, really. it's so much worse: the sopping material of the umbrella pokes him in the stomach, knocking the hot cup of coffee all over his sweater.

your eyes widen.

"oh my fucking god, I'm so sorry--" you stutter over your words, completely at a loss. his face is twisted up in an expression of concealed pain. it can't feel good to have hot coffee seeping through your clothes after being prodded by a piece of metal. you move your wet hair out of your face in order to look at him full-on.

"it's fine, really." he gives you what's supposed to be a friendly smile, but looks more like a grimace. your stomach twists; he's hot. like, if you saw him at the bar you would stare at him all night kind of hot.

"no, it's not," your face heats up, despite the cold, damp air. "let me buy you another coffee."

"I--" he glances down at his sweater, which is knitted with cute foxes on the front, then back at you. he pauses a moment and you have to bite down on your tongue to keep from collapsing. he's considerably older than you, but he doesn't dress or act that way. maybe late thirties, if you had to guess. "sure. thanks."

a flowering relief in your chest, partly because he doesn't seem angry and partly because you'd like to look at his face just a bit longer. your eyes stay on his until someone walks through the door of the café and reminds you of where you are.

without a word, you brush past and go into the building, him trailing behind.

Matthew watches as you walk ahead, your clothes spattered with rainwater and your hair somewhat messed up, too. he smiles to himself at the way you almost bump into the corner of a table, nervousness evident in nearly every movement.

you head to the counter, setting your hands on the granite while the barista checks out your unkempt appearance.

"hi," you smile at her before realizing you have no idea what this guy wants. you turn around and see him standing slightly behind you, suppressing a smile. he can tell how flustered you are, and now you look like a fool. "what coffee do you drink?"

"can I have a medium Americano, please?" he asks the barista with a friendly smile. he's got straight teeth, dimples... holy shit. you wish he had been unappealing so that this whole situation would be less humiliating.

you pay for his drink before getting out of the way, both of you slowly walking to the pickup counter.

"again, I'm really sorry. that stupid umbrella." you shake the thing at your side, raindrops falling to the floor. you run a hand through your wet hair.

"it's okay. I appreciate you getting me another cup." he flashes that smile again and you remember that his sweater is all stained. before you can think to do anything else, you pluck a handful of napkins from the self-serve station and start to dab at the material.

he looks down at you for a second, surprised by the way you grab his clothes. Matthew feels your hand pressing into his stomach innocently, and he feels himself blush a little. it's only when you pull away that he's able to regain his head.

"it's still bad," you throw away the napkins and re-evaluate the garment. "jesus christ, it's a nice sweater, too."

"hey, it's totally fine. I can just wash it out." he lets out a slight chuckle, and the sound makes your heart flutter. he's got a dad laugh. deep in his chest.

"baking soda and water." you say abruptly. he frowns.

"what?"

"to get the stain out? I use baking soda and water for coffee stains and it usually works." you explain gently, your eyes meeting again. his irises are a brownish hazel color, warm. the laugh lines by them are charming.

"oh," he grins. "do you get coffee stains often?"

you twist your mouth to the side and glance at the windows of the coffee shop. he's teasing you and you'd be remiss if you said you don't want to play along. "more than I'd like to admit."

you can feel him looking at you with that stupidly brilliant smile and it's really setting you off-kilter. someone shouldn't be that attractive; it's not fair. and yet you want desperately to stare, if purely for the sake of aesthetic enjoyment.

"I'm Matthew." he extends his hand, which is decorated with a series of rings. you realize that you don't even know his name.

"Y/N." you shake. his fingers are softer than you expected.

"nice to meet you, Y/N."

"and under such fortuitous circumstances." the corners of your mouth turn up as you relax a little.

he laughs at your words, the delightful ring of it interrupted by a new Americano showing up on the counter. he glances at the to-go cup, then at you, then goes to get his drink. you wish you knew what he was thinking, but he's not displaying anything past friendliness.

"well, um." something like disappointment settles in your stomach as you recognize this will be the last of your interaction. there's no reason for him to stick around, and you need to get back home to work, anyway.

"I'll let you get back to your day." Matthew doesn't seem nervous, just unsure as he grips the coffee in his hand. you open and close your mouth like something impressive enough to keep him here will come out. you know it won't.

and then you remember the state of affairs, the existence of your useless car and the useless phone in the front seat, how you're going to have to call Triple A and then your roommate to come get you.

Matthew realizes that you aren't going to say anything and he gives you one last smile and an awkward wave before turning to go. you watch in silence as he crosses the room to the door. two more seconds until he's out of your life forever. so of course you choose this exact moment to speak.

"wait."

his head jerks suddenly to look at you. this is embarrassing, but you have nothing to lose.

"can I... borrow your phone?"

Matthew tilts his head to the side slightly, frowning as though deeply confused. and you suppose it is a strange thing to ask, especially given that you're a younger person and most people your age carry their phones everywhere. "sure." he walks back over to you, pulling his cell out of his pocket.

"I just--" you fumble with the device while you decide how to phrase it without sounding like a pathetic mess. "my car keeps breaking down and my phone battery is, like, totally fucked, so it just turns off and on constantly and it’s still in my car but it’s raining and I just wanna see if it’s back on so I can call my roommate." you immediately cringe at yourself. the rambling isn’t cute.

he’s not too bothered by your panicking, though, his mouth only forming an O shape. "it’s no problem."

you dial your number, fingers trembling while he waits. he's turned his eyes to the rest of the coffee shop, but it still makes you nervous that he's standing right there. you put the cell to your ear and pray that it rings out.

you’re greeted by the sound of your own voice telling you to leave a message. great. with a frustrated sigh, you hang up and Matthew gives you an inquisitive expression.

“it’s still off,” you explain. “I’m gonna call my roommate.”

he nods and shoves his hands into his pockets while you punch in the other number. for a split second, you peek his way and admire his side profile. he really is something to behold; a model, maybe.

"hello?" good thing Cecilia has no problem answering unknown numbers. you bite your lip.

"hey, it's me."

"Y/N? whose phone are you using?"

"uh, someone I just met--" you frown as you try to find a way to describe him without something as insulting as a random guy. "anyway, my car broke down so I was wondering if you could pick me up."

there's a pause on the other end of the line, like the movement of sheets and the slightly disappointed groan of another person. she probably has her boyfriend over again. "sure, of course. where are you?"

you give her the address and hang up before dialing the car repair company. Matthew gestures to a table off to the side so that you two don't need to stand, and then you sit down across from him. you're so distracted by the person on the other end of the line that you don't even think about it.

Matthew twists his rings on his fingers. he's fidgety and it's sort of cute. you try not to stare at his hands, at the black spot of ink on the outside of his pinky. either he writes a lot or he's an artist. you have to focus on the table in order to keep from blushing.

finally, you finish up with the phone and hand it back to him. "you're a life saver."

"do you want me to wait with you until your friend gets here?" he gestures out the window. your immediate reaction is to say yes. it'll be awkward to sit here alone without your phone, without coffee. but you don't want to keep him any longer than you already have.

"it's okay, I'm sure you have places to be." you smile accommodatingly. he chooses his next words carefully, it seems.

"I don't, really. but I'll leave you alone if that's what you want, too." the way he speaks, offering his company without trying to impose... something about it makes your heart melt a bit. you appreciate his thoughtfulness. it makes you want to know more.

"okay," you nod as you make your decision. "if you wanna stay. it shouldn't be too long."

"great," he settles back into his chair, the light from the café lights above you reflecting off the lenses of his glasses. "why does your car keep breaking down?"

you exhale sharply at the thought. "that's a really good question, because I don't know the answer. it's super old and I'm too broke to afford a new one."

he nods.

Matthew's mind turns to different avenues at this knowledge. he knows you're young and that usually means that there isn't a lot of spare income. and he doesn't know if you have a job. but what he does know is that you've got an energy about you-- a sweet, well-intentioned manner that draws him in. every once in a while throughout the conversation, you throw out certain phrases that hint at a quick-witted intelligence.

you're funny, but not boldly so. and when you two get on the topic of how you ended up rain-soaked, shoving your way into a Los Angeles café, you tell him about your day.

"--and I have this shitty job right now working for one of my old professor's friends, so it's not like I can afford to constantly repair the damages. all my money is going towards my savings so I can pay for grad school, anyway." you sigh. he listens intently to your words, and he never shies away from eye contact. every time he nods along, you practically feel your heart leap.

"what do you do?" he asks.

"I write for a wellness magazine, but I'm sort of a fraud." you joke.

he laughs. "why's that?"

"I don't know, a lot of it is about different yoga methods and meditation, stuff like that-- but I don't do any of that in my daily life." you admit. it should be embarrassing, but you don't feel ashamed of the fact. he seems to find it funny.

"working your way toward a different kind of job, then?"

"I'm hoping for a more editorial role, honestly, but..." you lift your eyes to his. they're bright, he notices; full of a deep-rooted hope. "gotta start somewhere, right?"

"very true." Matthew wants to tell you just how much he understands, about the roles as an actor he's taken and the hours he spent making films in college, just hoping that one day he'd be able to make things on his own, but he doesn't want to scare you away or sound like he's bragging. it's not your fault you don't know who he is.

"sorry," you speak through a silence he doesn't realize he's left between you two. "I've talked your ear off and you don't even really know me. what do you do?"

"oh--" Matthew actually blushes this time. you see the pink creeping up his neck. "I'm an actor."

in the same way they did when you ran into him, your eyes widen. "an actor?"

"yeah," he smiles at the expression on your face. "you know that show, Criminal Minds?"

the name is familiar, but you've never seen an episode. "yeah, of course."

"I'm in that."

you don't know a lot about the program, but you've heard it talked about and you know that it's a popular show. so this guy is an actual actor, not just some LA wannabe. that makes him about five times more intimidating. you feel even more idiotic for not seeing it before.

"oh, shit," the words tumble out. Matthew grins at the bluntness of your reaction, and you scramble to recover. "sorry I didn't know who you are."

"no worries!" he laughs it off. "it's not a big deal."

"do you like it?" you ask. "being famous, I mean."

he shifts in his seat for a second as he makes a face like he doesn't know how to answer. you wonder if there's something deeper to him that you just haven't seen, yet. secret feelings about the subject. "I'm really not very famous, but I love the work."

genuinely humble. you can see it in his face, the sparkle in his eyes. and maybe he's just charming and you're just a girl blinded by his attractiveness, but your gut tells you that he's being real.

this time, you're the one who falls silent. admittedly, you get a little in your head sometimes. and it makes sense, now, the smoothness of his behavior and the sheer beauty of his face. this is a show business city-- of course he's famous.

Matthew's phone rings and he jumps, as if jolted from a dream. your attention moves immediately to the screen and you recognize Cecilia's number. he pushes the device over to you.

"hello?" your voice sounds far away.

"hey, I'm here. where are you?" she says.

"I'm just inside the café."

"oh, okay, I'll park and come in--" you hear the click of a seatbelt and start to panic. she can't see you in here with him.

"no!" you say too loudly. Matthew's head jerks up to frown at you.

"why not?" Cecilia asks, confused.

"no reason," god, you're a bad liar. "I'll come out and we can wait for the Triple A person in your car." you and Matthew make eye contact again. he gives you an understanding smile. your stomach flips.

"sounds good." she hangs up and you grab your umbrella. time to go.

"thanks for letting me use your phone." you stand, not really wanting to say goodbye but also lacking a reason to stay. he remains in his spot, seemingly now settled into this little corner of the café. it sort of suits him, this place. all cozy and slightly strange.

“happy to help.” you notice the tip of his tongue dart out over his bottom lip as if deliberating whether or not to say anything further. but he doesn’t and you feel awkward just standing there by the table.

“I’ll, uh…” you could ask for his number. but that would be weird, right? he doesn’t really seem to have an interest, anyway. “I’ll see you around, then.”

“yeah. it was nice to meet you, Y/N.” he gives one more of those killer smiles and you turn around, almost bumping into a display of coffee beans before correcting yourself and heading back outside.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed!): @la-vie-en-amour1 @reidsconverse @voidsfilm

[xpeachesncream]

first position | one shot

summary: your bestfriend’s ex ain’t shit, especially if he’s never made her orgasm. (based on this ask)

pairing: jungkook x reader x reader’s bestfriend

genre: (18+) college au | smut

words: 2.3k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, threesome, protected sex, multiple orgasms, breast play, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, ass smacking, pussy smacking, doggy style, hair pulling, slightly rough sex

note: drew some inspiration from lani’s “first position” song (linked above); please know that this is an entirely new level of smut for me so i apologize if shit sounds kind of off. super unfamiliar with threesome scenes, but i did my best to read up on actual accounts to see what people describe it to be like ahaha ALSO - wips are updated, feel free to see what my messy brain is working up nowadays lol enjoy ya’ll 🤓 this goes out to you, anon! i tried! lol

"Baby, open up!" Jungkook says, knocking on your door. You stumble a bit, laughing with your bestfriend. You both had been drinking wine all night and shared a blunt together before calling your boyfriend, whining for some food.

"Gookieeee." You giggle as you open the door and throw your arms around his neck. He pulls back to kiss you on the lips before helping himself inside and tossing off his shoes.

"Jungkook! The savior!" Your bestfriend says as he sets the food down onto the kitchen counter.

"Yeah, yeah. Thank me later. I'd rather grab the food then let you two drunkies head out like this."

"We aren't drunk, silly."

"Okay." He chuckles as he plops onto the couch, manspreading as he flips the channel on your tv to the Warriors vs. Pacers basketball game. "That's more I like it."

"Excuse me." You say as you shove fries into your mouth, your bestfriend devouring her burger next to you in the kitchen. "You're getting comfortable."

"Mhm, I sure am."

"Babe, it's a girl's night."

"Mm no, it's no longer a girl's night after my babygirl asks me to leave the comfort of my bed just to bring her food."

"Sorry to interrupt your jacking off session."

"Yeah, exactly." He says. "What'd you guys drink tonight?"

"Wine, wine and more wine. Smoked a blunt too." He laughs.

"Time of your lives, ey?"

"Lana just got dumped by that ungrateful dumbass, of course I gotta treat her."

"Hey, for what it's worth Lana - Namjoon didn't deserve you." He looks at your bestfriend, sympathy poking through his facial expression. Lana and Namjoon had been dating on and off for almost 2.5 years until that stupid ass decided he wanted to cheat and pursue other women like he had it like that. He for sure didn't though. He couldn't even make Lana cum properly. At all, even.

"Yeah, he didn't even know how to make you cum." Jungkook's eyes widened.

"The fuck?" He chuckled. "Really? After all these years?"

"Um, yeah. I guess that's just how he gets down." She says shyly. She was so innocent, being that she hadn't really been in a relationship besides with Namjoon. She hadn't explored much being that he was so narrow minded and she did a lot to keep him happy in the relationship.

"So.. would you like, fake it?" Jungkook asks, curiosity in his eyes.

"No, she wouldn't even get there babe!"

"Huh?" He's utterly confused and he's not even trying to hide it.

"He would like, you know, do it until he came then that was it."

"Huh." He nods. "He wouldn't even try? Interesting." Kook says, making you laugh. "I make Y/N cum at least 5 times a day."

"Shut the fuck up, boy. No you don't." You throw a fry at him.

"Boohoo, okay. It's like 3 at the very least. I could make her cum more but she's always crying for me to stop cause she can't take it." You raise your middle finger at your boyfriend.

"H-how does it feel?"

"To cum?" Kook asks.

"Euphoric. Like no other." You respond. Jungkook looks at you, then back at her, a little turned on by the conversation. Lana was pretty, and she definitely deserved better as both you and Kook stated. She was innocent at best, but you knew she was curious.

"I wish I knew." She says, sipping on more wine, making a bright idea pop into your head.

"Hey." You lightly squeeze her side. "I have an idea, but it's totally okay if you don't wanna go with it. I don't wanna make you do something you aren't comfortable with."

"Hm?" She hums as she watches you give Jungkook a small smirk that he returns. He honestly doesn't know what your crazy ass is thinking about, but whatever it is, he's down. He always is, and that's what he loved about you - you were always down, and you taught him that. Life's too fucking short.

"Let's put you on." You say nodding to the room. "Let me and Kook show you what it's like." Jungkook almost chokes on his water.

"I-I— like a threesome? I don't know, I'm not that experienced, I wouldn't—"

"Girl, we'll guide you through it."

"But Jungkook, he's your boyfriend, I can't—"

"And that's not gonna change. He's down, trust me. Look at his stupidly cute face." You both turn to him, his doe eyes wide with a huge smile plastered on his face.

"Seriously though, Lana. If you aren't comfortable—" Jungkook chimes in, reassuring her.

"I'm down." She spits out and nods. "I'm down. Let's do it. As long as things don't change between us."

"It won't, I promise, okay?" You grab her hand and lead her to your room.

"Oh shit." Jungkook says, throwing the remote aside to catch you two. He walks in and stops at the door frame, watching you two sit on your bed. Honestly, he was down but he was also still feeling a little concerned about how this would go down. Of course, he was the only sober one here, you two being crossfaded almost out of your minds and more relaxed than he was. He didn't really have an issue though. As long as nothing changed between you, Lana and himself, then things would be fine. Especially between Lana and you. You had been bestfriends since college started.

He didn't think it would though, so fuck it.

"Just, follow along. Okay? If you're ever uncomfortable or want us to stop, just say so."

"Say ex or something weird." Jungkook spits out.

"Um, okay." You sit up on your knees as she leans back into your pillows, and gently start feeling up her arms.

"Relax, Lana." You say at a whisper, your lips about to fall onto hers. She takes the kiss as it builds up slowly. You feel her ease up, her arms climbing up yours as her tongue begins to explore and fight yours for dominance.

"Jeeeeesus fucking christ." Jungkook says, swiping his hand down his face as he continues to watch you and Lana tongue each other down. He felt himself getting harder by the minute, watching as the sound of sloppy, wet kisses began to fill the room and your shirts began to fly off. You pull away for a second to look back at him and signal for him to come over, his baggy long sleeve immediately coming off as he climbs onto the bed. You direct Lana to release your bra as you with hers. You're practically straddling her at this point, Jungkook's hands now roaming up your body. His hand grips your neck as he tilts it back, laying kisses along your jaw before nibbling your earlobe. You let out a breathy moan, your hips grinding against Lana's, causing her to bite her lip and let out a small moan as your hands begin to feel up on her breasts.

"Lay back." You say softly, Lana silently following the order. You begin to take off her leggings, throwing them across your room as Kook is gently laying kisses down your back. "Behind me, babe." You give him a quick look with Jungkook fully understanding the request. He steps off the bed, giving you space to lower yourself onto Lana's clothed clit. You press your lips against it while Jungkook is wrestling to take off your sweats and toss them aside, his fingers already getting busy with rubbing your clothed pussy as he tries to work with it from behind you and off the bed. Lana lets out a moan as she watches you closely, your finger hooking her panties to the side and your tongue giving her pussy a good swipe up. She trembles a bit with the contact, but settles quickly as you begin to work your mouth against her folds, then back up to her clit.

"Ohhhh shit. He's never done it like that." Lana says as she lets out a few breaths. You moan against her clit as Jungkook is now pumping his digits in and out of you quickly, his tongue continuously teasing, tip penetrating your entrance whenever his digits aren't doing the work. Lana's hips begin to buck upwards and grind onto your tongue, fucking her pussy more and more into this unfamiliar pleasure. "Oh fuck, oh my god! I don't know if I can do this." She whines as she grips the sheets, her knuckles turning white. You nod, signaling for her to let go as your tongue is now teasing her clit, working in up and down motions.

"Fuck, Kook!" You manage to spit out. You're so fucking turned on by the sight in your bedroom right now, and you have no idea if it's because you're pretty crossfaded, but this shit was pretty and all you wanted to do was feel good and make your bestfriend feel good. After all, she deserves to feel it once in her lifetime and if Namjoon wasn't gonna do that shit, then you'd gladly be the one to let her experience it.

"Cum for me, baby." He says as he quickly pulls back to give your pussy a good smack before he latches on again. "Let me feel it." The words alone, along with your moaning into Lana's clit, sends her over, her body trembling graciously in your grip.

"Fuck! What the fuck!" She screams, whining moans leaving her mouth quickly afterwards. You soon let yourself go, detaching yourself from her clit, your body trembling on all fours with Jungkook rubbing your clit like there's no tomorrow. The pain quickly turns into more pleasure, you crashing your body ontop of Lana's as you both try to regulate your breathing and come back down from your highs. Jungkook is hard as a fucking rock seeing the both of you completely fucked out already, especially you having done work on Lana at the same time as he pleased you.

"What do I do next?" You look at her as you finally gain the energy to raise your body a bit, shaking your head.

"Stay. Kook, get in her first." Jungkook is already unwrapping the first condom and sliding it down his dick.

"You both okay?" He manages to ask, Lana simply giving him a nod as he warns her with a tap of his reddened tip against her folds. "I'll take it slow. You just let me know what you want." You smirk down at her.

"Use him, Lana."

"W-what?" Her back slightly arches as her eyes roll to the back of her head feeling Jungkook fill her up. Although she had agreed to it, she didn't think her first fuck out of a relationship was gonna be with you and your boyfriend. Let alone did she ever think Jungkook would be penetrating her the way he was right now.

But fuck it. There's a first for everything.

"Use him." You repeat as you situate yourself on top of her, your lips landing back on hers with Jungkook's hand in your hair. "Tell him what you want to make you cum again."

"F-faster." She spits out in between kisses. Jungkook obeys, his thrusts now becoming quicker.

"Shit, dude." He says, his head tilting back in pleasure. "This is so fucking hot." You lower yourself a bit, your mouth latching onto her nipples one by one. You tease her a bit, your tongue flicking in and around her hardened bud, smirking into it when you hear her let out a loud moan.

"Fuck, yes. Please. Just like that." She begs. "Rougher please." You pull back on her nipple with a pop, lightly blowing air onto it as Jungkook begins to sloppily ram into her pussy. Caressing her skin, you can feel the goosebumps radiating throughout her body before you lower yourself back down onto her other nipple and repeat the process.

"Cum, Lana." Jungkook groans. "Cum all over this dick. It's your playing field right now." You smirk as your tongue continues to tease her nipple, her moans getting louder the more he hammers into her.

"Cum, babe." You say as you hop off and reach down to rub her clit. With just a few rubs, she's hurdling over the edge, her body trembling once more as she yells.

"Holy fuck! Ugghhhhhffffgod." Her breathing hitching as the aftershocks ripple through her.

"On your knees, babygirl." Jungkook orders you to get on your fours while switching out the condom to a new one, Lana slowly slipping out from under you to get on her fours and face you. Jungkook doesn't waste any time, roughly inserting himself into you and filling you up until he bottoms out. He feels a little more comfortable, knowing he can roughhouse the fuck out of you more than he could with Lana, so he begins to hammer into you and tug onto your hair at the same time.

"Jungkook, fuck." You moan, his large hand smacking your ass as he quickens his pace. Lana's now planting kisses along your neck while Jungkook holds you steady with your hair, her hands roaming around your breasts and giving them a good, gentle squeeze.

"Shit, I-I'm gonna cum soon." He says, biting his bottom lip. "Cum with me baby." He moans. Lana's hand travels down to your clit, copying what she's learned from you by rubbing it in circular motions.

"Ohhhhhhgod, yes!" You moan, but aren't able to release any other noise afterwards. You continue to whine as the loud, lewd noises of skin against skin continue filling the room. Sooner or later, you feel yourself unraveling, Jungkook's nails digging deep into your hips while Lana continues to rub your clit gently to help you ride out your high. "Oh my fucking god." You say as you try to regulate your breathing. Lana immediately throws her panties and her clothes back on, feeling shy with Jungkook being in the room.

"How'd that feel?" He says, throwing on his clothes while handing you yours. You look at her and smirk, licking your bottom lip.

"Good, I hope." Lana chuckles.

"Fucking amazing."

"Maybe we should do this more often."

"Baby, wait." Jungkook laughs. "You're fucking wild."

"She is, isn't she?" Lana rolls her eyes playfully.

"Hey, at least we gave you the ride of your life." You all make your way out of the room to get a little air and step away from the post sex-smelling room. "Next time I see Namjoon, I'll let him know what you look like when you cum." 

[inkykeiji]

day two ❅ cause i’m mrs. snow, til death we’ll be freezing

don’t cry snowman, don’t leave me this way, a puddle of water can’t hold me close, baby

day one ❅ day two ❅ day three | series masterlist

character: todoroki touya | dabi

genre: smut + angst

notes: weeee yay day two!! touya + co go ice skating :) this, again, was not supposed to be as long as it is, but eh here we are!! | title credit: snowman by sia

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), drug use, very rough sex, public sex, generally toxic relationships, size difference, tense family dynamics, reader’s probably a lil too obsessed with touya’s cum, slight dacryphilia, slight degradation

words: 8.3k

synopsis:

I’m only worried about you, you want to say. It isn’t your intention to put more stress on him, especially when being forced to spend nearly every waking minute around his blood siblings is evidently very difficult for him, but you don’t want him dead because of it, either.

“I love you,” you tell him instead, unsaid words sown into the fabric of the sentence.

But he doesn’t need to hear you say it, he can feel it—in the air around you, radiating off your frame in thick waves that crash into him in the most pleasant way; in the way your soft fingertips stroke his cheeks, tracing his features with the utmost gentleness; in the way you gaze so tenderly at him, eyes sweeping across his face akin to the most compassionate caress.

It all makes him feel like he can do this, like he might actually survive this, so long as you’re by his side.

    ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅     

The wind howls gently, picking up swirls of snow and dusting it against the window, the snowflakes soft taptaptap’s echoing among the tiny bedroom. It’s grey but bright outside, the morning of December 22nd. Strands of hair stick to your cheeks and neck, chills erupting across your skin as you wiggle around beneath Touya’s heavy arm, laying across your waist in a loose grasp, your movements causing the blanket to slip from your clammy skin, a soft hiss spit through your teeth as the cool air of the room hits your heated skin. Touya’s got his head buried in the pillow, his torso laying half on top of yours, legs intertwined.

“Touya-nii,” you whimper, eyebrows furrowing a little in frustration as you struggle under him. “Niichan,”

“Mmph,” he emits an unintelligible noise in response, muffled by the pillow.

“Niichaaaaan,” the honorific leaves your lips in a whine, giving another weak shove at his arm. “Niichan, you’re so hot, I’m gonna melt,”

“Too bad. We’re not getting up yet,”

You whine again, your squirming becoming more vigorous. “But Touya-nii, I’m so thirsty! Please, my mouth is drier than the desert, I swear to God,”

“If you don’t stop acting like a brat, I’m gonna fuck you like a brat,”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

That gets his attention, fluffy head shooting up, white tufts tousled and standing on end, sleepy eyes squinting against the sudden light as he tries to glare at you. “Excuse me?”

The deep, rough lilt to his voice, heavy with sleep, makes your stomach flutter, blood rushing to your cheeks as you gaze at him.

Even in the morning, he’s stupidly beautiful.

“G-Got you up,” you giggle a little, reaching forward to run your fingers through his messy hair, smoothing it down in the process.

He deadpans, glaring at you for a moment, though there’s no heat in his eyes. You stare back, blinking twice, little fingers trailing down the side of his face and then tracing his jaw, murmuring about how pretty he is.

“Pretty, huh?” he finally sighs, a small grin spreading across his cheeks, head tilting to the side as your fingers travel down his neck, tracing the intricate black ink.

“Mm, very pretty,” you whisper to yourself, eyes zeroing in on his adams apple as it bobs with his chuckle. “But I’m still thirsty,”

He laughs again, rolling his eyes and pushing himself up completely, sheets pooling at his waist. “Fucking brat,”

It’s just past 9am, but the kitchen is empty. Touya carries you there, and even though you’re more than capable of walking by yourself, you snuggle into his neck, scattering gentle kisses across the scarred skin, head resting against his broad shoulder.

He exhales a sigh as you do so, and you can physically feel the tension leaving his body, a tiny bit more with each kiss you press against him.

A soft yelp hitches in your throat as he places you on the counter, cold marble stinging the bare skin of your thighs, Touya smirking at the sound as he wanders over to the fridge, rooting through it for a moment before turning back towards you.

“Water?” you make a face. Touya deadpans for the second time in fifteen minutes.

“You said you were thirsty, did you not?”

“Yeah, but…” you trail off shyly, hooking your ankles together and swinging your legs a little. “I wanted chocolate milk,”

“No,” he says instantly, slamming the fridge shut with more force than necessary, jars jiggling and clinking together with the motion. “Water first,” he uncaps the bottle and holds it out to you. “Don’t you dare start pouting,” he adds, when your eyebrows are beginning to knit together, voice stern. “You did not drag me out of bed at nine in the fucking morning because your mouth was drier than the desert just to pout when I give you water. You know you aren’t allowed sugar first thing in the morning, baby,”

You suppose he has a point, working hard to smooth your face as you take the bottle from him.

“M’sorry, niichan,” you murmur before taking a sip, gazing at him through your lashes.

He glares at you for another moment before a tiny grin breaks his face, shaking his head with a soft chuckle.

“You’re really testing me this morning,” he mumbles as large hands pry your knees apart, wedging his hips between your thighs while hands curl around your hips and drag you towards the edge of the counter. Your legs wrap around his waist—an automatic reaction—ankles hooking again and holding him close, bodies pressed flush together.

Something’s still off, you can tell, evident in the way his head drops the moment you’re close enough, forehead resting against the crown of your head, exhaling.

“It’s not very nice, babygirl,” he speaks again after a beat of silence, calloused hands slipping under your—his, your mind reminds you—t-shirt, palming your hips. “Think you should make it up to me, hmm?”

And you want to, God, do you ever want to, want to kiss all of his sorrow away, want to pull those gorgeous broken whines and throaty moans from him, want to help him forget about whatever it is that’s bothering him so deeply, to lock it out of his head, shoving it from his mind as his brain is filled with thoughts of you. But…

“B-But niichan, we’re in the kitchen,” you have to force the trembling words from your mouth, biting down hard on your lip to keep from moaning as his teeth skim along your neck, evoking a full body shiver.

“So?” his lips brush against your skin, nimble fingers dipping into your cute pink panties.

“Anyone could—could come in any second and—”

“What? Catch us?” he pulls back a little, smirking. “And?” sapphire searches your face as heat rushes to your cheeks, rushes shamefully between your legs. He snorts a moment later, pressing two fingers against your clothed cunt. “Exactly,” the word is just a huff of breath as he nudges his nose against yours. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“I—”

“Don’t try lying,” he sounds bored as he cuts you off, fingers rubbing at your little hole through the damp cotton of your panties. “Your pussy’s very honest,”

And the broken whine that hitches in your chest is nothing short of absolutely pathetic, back arching and eyes fluttering as he begins flicking his thumb over your clit, keeping his touches light and fast.

“Yeah,” he breathes, the word bordering on a growl. “Of course you would. Bet you could cum from just this if Natsuo were watching, huh? Want everyone to know how easy you are for niichan? How much of a good little slut you are for niichan?”

“You planning on testing that theory out?”  

Natsuo’s unexpected voice makes you jump, eyes snapping open and flying to his face as you choke on a gasp, Touya’s thumb choosing then to press hard against your swollen little clit, forcing an embarrassingly loud cry from your lips and paying no mind to his younger brother, who’s leaning casually against the doorframe with a smirk decorating his face. In fact, Touya doesn’t react to Natsuo at all—

Because he already knew.

“N-Niichan,” you nearly wail, burying your scalding face in his shoulder, nails digging into the smooth muscles of his back.

“Aww,” Natsuo coos, and he sounds genuine. “C’mon, don’t hide from me, sweetheart,”

“What, now you’re shy? When you were about to get off on the very thought just moments ago?” Touya’s patronizing chuckle vibrates against you, though his hands are on your back, petting you in smooth, soothing motions.

“Niisan, don’t tease,” Natsuo laughs, and you smush your face harder against Touya’s shoulder, whimpering a little as Natsuo’s voice gets closer. “I just figured if you two were gonna have a cheeky lil fuck in the kitchen, the least you could do is let me watch,”

Touya begins laughing again, starts to say something, voice abruptly cutting off. You stiffen, clinging to him, breath bated as you listen.

“Surprised you two were the first ones up,” Fuyumi’s voice floats through the space, tone clipped.

You peak out from over Touya’s shoulder, watching as Fuyumi fiddles around with their extremely expensive coffeemaker, a deep scowl etched into her face.

“Oh? And why’s that?” Touya asks lightly, sounding genuinely surprised, innocently curious.

“You know why,” she snaps, slamming her coffee mug down on the granite countertop and whipping her head around to glare at her older brother.

Touya chuckles and shakes his head, maintaining that he doesn’t, he swears, and if you didn’t know any better, if you couldn’t see the smug smirk on his face, the mocking amusement swirling in his eyes, you’d believe him to be telling the truth.

But Fuyumi knows him better than that, rolling her eyes and grumbling unintelligibly under her breath. Shouto chooses then to enter the kitchen, hair slightly mussed, looking a little like a white and red haystack atop his head, and Touya’s body goes rigid.

He yawns out his morning greeting, glancing around the room, mismatched eyes lingering on your bare thighs for just a second too long.

Touya notices, because Touya notices everything—especially when it comes to Shouto, cobalt eyes sharp and trained on his every movement—moving to shield you with his body as best he can.

“C’mon princess,” he’s mumbling as his hands force their way under your ass, hefting you up again. “Let’s go,”

And no one misses the way Shouto watches the two of you leave, the way his sleepy eyes focus on your ass—just barely concealed by the cotton panties, Touya’s hands providing more coverage than the garment does—then move down to his brother’s shameless erection, partially obscured by your body, inhaling a sharp gasp that everyone hears, that everyone knows what it’s in reaction to, that everyone ignores.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

Today’s activity is ice skating, Rei tells you as your exiting the cabin.

She looks excited, a smile on her soft lips, eyes bright as she pats your shoulder, and it makes warmth flutter in your chest, glad to see the events of yesterday haven’t completely dampened her mood.

“Do you know how to skate?” Natsuo asks you, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

“I do,” you say proudly, looking over at Rei as you reach Touya’s car, sharing a grin. “Rei taught me not long after she and my father started dating,”

“Aw, mom,” Natsuo coos, looking over at his mother for reassurance. “That’s sweet,”

Rei hums, nodding as her eyes drift back to yours.

“Hold on a second,” she says as her smile slowly begins to dissipate, glancing from Touya’s hand on the handle of his car’s passenger door, to your face, to Natsuo standing by his own car a few feet away, brows knitting.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting in the car?” his response comes out as a question, spoken slowly as he’s worried it’s the wrong answer, tilting his head a little like a puppy.

“There’s no need for you to take more than one car,” Rei says pointedly, her gaze darting to Touya, holding his eyes even though she was speaking to Natsuo. His mouth falls open to protest, but she continues. “The five of you will fit in one. We’ll see you there,”

Her tone is final as she turns away and gets into her own car, the five of you watching in silence as it reverses onto the road, snow and ice cracking and popping under the thick tires. Natsuo turns back to the group, a large, boyish smile on his face.

“It’s fine! We’ll take my car,” Natsuo’s eyes soften a little as he looks over at his silver Porsche, patting the roof affectionately.

“No,” Fuyumi responds immediately. “Absolutely not.”

Stone eyes fly back to her face, alarmed. “What! Why?”

“Because you drive like a lunatic—I refuse to ride in any car when you’re behind the wheel,”

Natsuo frowns as he rounds his car, coming to stand with the group. “Well your car isn’t here, since you came up with mom, so—”

“We can take Touya’s car,”

“No,” Touya nearly growls, the unexpected rumbling deep in his chest causing everyone to flinch.

“Why not?” Fuyumi’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, eyes narrowing slightly as she glances at her older brother. “I can’t think of any reason—”

“He is not stepping foot in my fucking car,”

Fuyumi’s eyes widen slightly, staring at him in disbelief, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m fucking kidding, or are you really that stupid?”

“Touya-nii,” you gasp softly, tugging on his arm a little and then hugging it to your chest. His voice drips with venom, sharper than a tungsten needle, and it makes both you and Natsuo wince, despite not being the object of his fury.

“Fine, Christ, I just won’t come then,” Shouto finally chimes in with a roll of his eyes. “Will that make you happy?”

Touya whirls around to face him, rips his arm from your grasp so aggressively, so suddenly, that it sends you stumbling backwards. Natsuo catches you quickly, righting you with an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“You wanna know what would make me happy? You fucking de—”

“That’s enough,” Fuyumi cuts him off with a glare so fierce it sends chills skittering across your skin, regardless of the thick sweaterdress and heavy jacket you’re currently wrapped up in. Natsuo must feel it course through your body, because he pulls you tighter against him, fingers digging into your shoulder.

Touya’s eyes snap to his sister, raising an eyebrow as a terrifying smile spreads across his face. It’s a smile you’ve only seen a few times before, gleaming white teeth on display, angular jaw clenched tightly. It’s a smile that makes icy dread pool in your stomach, thick and heavy, and you try to press yourself closer to Natsuo, body flush against his side, partially hiding your face in his chest.

Still, Fuyumi does not waver. “You are an adult, Touya. For God’s sake, act like one! Shouto is not a disease—”

“Could’ve fooled me,”

“—that will infect your car! He’s your baby brother!”

Touya’s eye twitches at the term, painful smile stretching even wider. In the pale afternoon sunlight, those glinting white teeth look pointier than normal, and you whimper into Natsuo’s chest.  

“My car, my rules,”

“Oh my God! Are you being ser—”

“Alright, this is getting a little ridiculous,” Natsuo jumps in quickly, trying to keep his voice light. “You’re scaring our little princess, niisan,” he says, voice softer, a large hand rubbing your shoulder in comfort.

Touya spins around again, wild sapphire eyes finding yours, his face falling the moment your gazes meet.

Little fingers have tangled themselves in Natsuo’s jacket, clinging to him so hard the skin over your knuckles is stretched taut. Your entire body trembles as you blink hard, trying in vain to clear the tears rushing to your eyes. The pounding of your heart echoes in your ears, so loud you can’t hear what Touya says as he swoops towards you, eyes wide and worried.

“We’ll take my car, and Fuyumi will drive.”

Natsuo’s voice holds the same note of finality that his mother’s does, large hand still curled around your shoulder as firm stone eyes scan the three faces in front of him.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

Touya refuses to have you and Shouto in the back seat alone, and Natsuo insists that he sits in the passenger seat, to make sure Fuyumi doesn’t hurt his baby, he explains, which is how you end up smack in the middle of the oldest and youngest Todoroki children.

It’s cramped—they’re both too big to be in the backseat of such a small car—resulting in the three of you being squished together, your body packed in tightly—practically wedged—between theirs.

It’s nearly impossible to keep your thigh from brushing against Shouto’s, but you try anyway, leaning into Touya as much as you can. A strong, possessive arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, fingers fisted in the material of your little sweaterdress, sapphire eyes hyper-focused on the way Shouto’s corduroy clad thigh keeps knocking against your bare knee with every gentle jolt of the car.

But when Shouto idly drops his large hands heavily to his lap with a sigh, long fingers splayed casually, just the very tip of his pinky resting against your thigh—well.

Touya sees fucking red, yanking your body away from his little brother immediately with a vicious growl caught in his throat, the movement so sudden and unexpected it has both you and Shouto gasping, heterochromatic eyes wide and alert as they snap to his eldest brother’s face,

He hadn’t even noticed. Truthfully, you probably wouldn’t have either if it hadn’t been Touya’s suffocating, overbearing presence beside you—engulfing you, causing you to be excessively aware of every miniscule movement, every jostle and touch and bump.

“Don’t fucking touch her,”

It takes Shouto another half a second before the realization hits him, eyes darting down to his thighs, finally taking note of the placement of his fingers. Then he’s scoffing, rolling his eyes as he huffs to himself, quiet and under his breath, something about Touya being absolutely ridiculous and childish and insecure.

Yet Shouto’s legs spread a little more every time Touya pulls you a few centimeters closer to him, ensuring that your thighs can never quite escape his, his strong muscles constantly nudging against yours.

It isn’t until you push your knee back against his, hard and purposeful, giving Shouto a sharp look, that this behaviour finally halts.

“Who’s being childish now?” you hiss, eyes holding his sternly, widening a moment later as if to say, Stop aggravating him.

Shouto’s face falls, lips tugging down into a frown as his gaze searches your face, head shaking a little. He opens his mouth—to apologize, you think—but is cut off by Touya’s immature snickering, his chest vibrating against your back.

“Fuck you,” he seethes instead, eyes narrowing and mouth snapping into a firm, unimpressed line.

“Watch it—”

“Play nice, you two,” Natsuo warns from the front seat. “I won’t hesitate to pull this car over and beat both your asses on the side of the road for everyone to see,”

“Okay, dad,” Shouto snorts as Touya simultaneously responds with, “I’d like to see you try,”

Nevertheless, Natsuo’s little warning does manage to shut them up for the remainder of the ride, Shouto crossing his legs, knees pressed up painfully against the door in an attempt to stop touching you. You’re practically in Touya’s lap by the time you arrive at the Ena Skating Rink at Crystal Park, seatbelt uncomfortably biting into your flesh through your clothing.

“I don’t understand why we had to drive an hour just to go skating,” Shouto grumbles just as Fuyumi turns into the parking lot, face set in a deep frown, eyebrows furrowed as he glares out the window. “There was a perfectly fine lake like, ten minutes from the cabin,”

“Shou, you sound like a petulant teenager,”

“Technically, he is a petulant teenager,”

“Not for much longer,”

“That’s right, your birthday’s coming up,” you say automatically without thinking, words slipping from your mouth as Fuyumi circles the lot in search of a parking spot. In the past, Shouto would’ve ignored such a slip-up, figuring the politeness of providing you an answer not worth Touya’s wrath, but now he turns to face you with a small smile, heterochromatic eyes almost twinkling, mask of irritability burning off his face in an instant.

“Yeah, in a few weeks,” he shrugs a shoulder. “I’ll be twenty,”

Do you have any plans?

The question lingers on the tip of your tongue, words frozen at the back of your throat as Touya’s hand curls protectively around you, strong fingers digging into your plush waist hard enough to make you wince.

But Shouto has become pretty good at reading you over these past few years, no longer needs you to voice your thoughts—the two of you have become accustomed to communicating through looks and expressions alone, to keep from sending Touya into an absolute rampage, to keep the both of you safe.

“Not sure what I’m doing yet,” he answers, keeping his voice light, though those mismatched eyes are sharply trained on your face, ready to analyze and decode whatever expression your features morph into.

This is the first time he’s ever verbally answered, though, and it hits you like a bag of bricks swung at your chest, the realization that this is something the two of you have built up together, something the two of you have spent years doing, working together silently, quietly, subtly, to keep Touya placid, something the two of you have been subconsciously doing to protect each other.

The thought inspires an odd feeling in your stomach, chest tightening with something akin to anxiety, something bitter and heavy rooting in the pit of your belly.

Touya saves you from having to answer, hastily unbuckling your seatbelt for you the moment Fuyumi’s finished reversing the car and nearly hauling you out  before she’s even cut the engine.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

“You’re not coming?” you ask Touya as he slips your foot into a skate, beginning to lace it up.

Touya shakes his head. “No,”

“Touya never learned how to skate—refused to, actually,” Natsuo informs you, sitting down next to you on the bench and playfully bumping his shoulder against yours.

Tilting you head, you stare at him, a soft little oh slipping from your lips. Touya avoids your gaze, jaw clenching rhythmically.  

“It’s for the best. He really shouldn’t be near any sort of blade for an extended period of time, not while Shouto’s in reach,” Natsuo jokes, though no one laughs, because it’s true.

Touya spends most of his time leaning against the boards, bright sapphire eyes trained on you, glued to you, cataloging all of your movements, each of your cute little giggles and soft little smiles, every hand on your shoulder or waist as it steadies you.

It’s hard for him to watch.

It’s hard for him to watch the way your eyes twinkle as Fuyumi speaks to you, the two of you gliding around the ice nonchalantly, hard for him to watch the way Natsuo pulls endless laughter from your throat as his gloved hands hold yours, pulling you along with him, hard for him to watch when Shouto appears beside you, slowing his stride to talk animatedly to you, the two of you absorbed in whatever discussion you’re having.

And yet, he can tell something isn’t right. Your eyes are twinkling, but they don’t gleam the way they do when you gaze at him. You’re laughing, but it isn’t as bubbly and pure as it is when evoked by him. You’re talking, but you aren’t wholly and completely captivated by whatever it is Shouto’s saying to you, gaze constantly drifting just over his shoulder, connecting with Touya’s.

Those ten little words from the night before echo through his mind again, and his molars grind together, but the look in your eyes, the way your face positively lights up when you skate towards him, past him, blowing kisses and giggling behind mitten covered hands, stomps them to little pieces, to dust, your fleeting presence blowing them away. He feels like he can fucking breathe again, each time you glide by him, resolve hardening a little more with every lap past him.

No, he knows he’s the best for you, absolutely is without a doubt the very best for you— and you confirm it with that loving, adoring, doting look every single time.

Despite this, he keeps disappearing intermittently, your heart sinking just a little bit more every time you look over to see him nowhere to be found, a sour taste settling on the back of your tongue. This is only the second day into the trip and you’re already terrified, knowing that he’s filling his nostrils with that fine white powder the moment he begins to feel his high fading, the moment he feels himself beginning to come down.

And by the third time he vanishes within a single hour, you decide you can no longer stand by and do nothing, say nothing—he’s gone for more than usual this time, an uneasy sense of dread flooding your body, making your limbs tingle as your heart begins to race, plopping down on the wooden bench and bending down to quickly unlace your skates. Your voice shakes as you tell the others that you’d like to take a short break from skating, claiming that your feet are sore, and that you’d like to rest for a while.

In actuality, you’re sure they all know what you’re doing, itching to go search for Touya, heart pounding painfully as several scenarios flash through your mind, but they say nothing, nodding with those polite smiles they all plaster on their faces any time something like this occurs.

The muscles in your thighs ache as you jog across the snow-dusted field, eyes frantically darting around the large open space in search for a man with ivory hair and azure eyes. Your feet take off the moment you spot him, an instinctual reaction, breath ragged and burning in your chest as you barrel into him, winding your arms around his waist tightly and burying your face in his strong chest.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he’s murmuring softly, arms encircling you and squeezing you against him, dropping a kiss to the crown of your head. “What’s going on, princess?”

Pulling back, your eyes study his face, stomach plummeting when you see it.

“Out playing in the snow again?”

Cobalt eyes narrow, Touya tilting his head in question as he stares at you. A frown mars your face, deep sigh leaving your nostrils without your permission, and Touya bristles. A tender thumb swipes across his nose, showing him the pure white powder it gathers.

“Slow down,” you say softly, gently, cautious eyes watching him carefully. “I don’t want a trip to the ER for Christmas,”

He holds your gaze for a moment, and you can see it, the blue fire simmering deep within them, but because it’s Christmas—and only because it’s Christmas—he blinks twice, extinguishing the flame to dull embers.

Chest heaving once, deep and heavy, he sighs out of parted lips, holding your hand to his cheek. Sapphire eyes close briefly as he nuzzles his face into your touch, and for a moment—just for a second—you think he’s about to apologize.

But that would be a Christmas miracle.

“Keep me in line,” he says quietly, shoulders slumping a little in defeat, a tiny sardonic grin on his lips as his eyes open again, searching your face. “Okay? Can’t let my best girl down on Christmas, now, can I?”

And although his shoulders are straining under the weight of this new responsibility—to try and restrain himself a little more, to not solely rely on the drugs to numb him to everything, to give up autonomy, power, to you—a weight feels like it’s been lifted off of yours, regardless of the fact that he’s asking you to control him, and you inhale deeply, able to breathe again.

I’m only worried about you, you want to say. It isn’t your intention to put more stress on him, especially when being forced to spend nearly every waking minute around his blood siblings is evidently very difficult for him, but you don’t want him dead because of it, either.

“I love you,” you tell him instead, unsaid words sown into the fabric of the sentence.

But he doesn’t need to hear you say it, he can feel it—in the air around you, radiating off your frame in thick waves that crash into him in the most pleasant way; in the way your soft fingertips stroke his cheeks, tracing his features with the utmost gentleness; in the way you gaze so tenderly at him, eyes sweeping across his face akin to the most compassionate caress.

It all makes him feel like he can do this, like he might actually survive this, so long as you’re by his side. The thought produces an inexplicable lump in his throat and he blinks hard, glittering eyes sweeping across your face before he seizes it, large hands cupping your jaw almost painfully as he pulls your face towards his, lips capturing yours in a crushing kiss.

Niichan! You try to squeal, muffled by his lips, Touya using the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, down your throat.

Traitorous as ever, your body melts into his only a second later, fingers latching behind his neck, trying to pull yourself closer.

“I need more,” he mumbles against your lips before pecking them again, eyes still closed. “I need more, baby, I need more right now,”

“Then take it,” you whine breathlessly into his mouth, echoing your words from the night before. “Take it, it’s yours,”

      ❅           ❅           ❅

It smells like damp rubber and stale snow, with a hint of year-old hard candy crushed beneath snow boots, releasing faint scents of artificial strawberry and orange.

The restroom is filthy, but neither of you care, too wrapped up in each other to pay much mind to the grime on the walls, or the flaky rust on the faucet—which is quietly dripping intermittently, covered in little droplets of condensation that gleam under the harsh florescent light humming above, tubes exposed.

The cement wall is cold against your bare skin as Touya rucks your dress up around your waist, hands under your ass supporting your weight as your legs wrap around him obediently, praising you for listening to him and never wearing pants, even in weather like this, because god, it makes everything so much easier, baby.

In the past, you would’ve been in a rush, positive you didn’t have much time before someone noticed your absence.

But your family is used to this now, completely unphased by the two of you disappearing for twenty, sometimes thirty minutes and returning with swollen lips and freshly fucked hair.

It’s not like they can say anything, anyway—it’s not like anything is going to stop the two of you now; it’s not like anything would’ve stopped the two of you before, either.

Despite this, Touya still doesn’t exactly take his time with you, large hands pawing at your breasts, your waist, your hips, fingers dipping into the elastic waistband of your panties just to let it snap back against your skin, reveling in the little yelp it conjures from you.

“Already soaked,” he sneers in your ear as two fingers skim over your lace-clad cunt. “Of course you are. I don’t know why I expected any less,” he huffs out a chuckle; a mean, harsh sound that ghosts over the shell of your ear before he captures it with his teeth, biting down hard and forcing a high-pitched squeal from your throat. “Because my baby’s such a Goddamn slut, isn’t she,” his lips are against your ear as he murmurs in that low, sultry voice, hot breath contrasting the cool air of the restroom, and you shiver violently.

“Only for you,” you whine out, already breathless.

And you’ll never get over how easily he knocks the air out of your lungs with just a few dirty words and prodding fingers, stroking your slit through drenched lace in a way that’s almost gentle, careful, purposeful, sure to keep his touches as teasing and not nearly enough.

Still, those three words have more of an effect on him than you would’ve thought, a possessive growl ripping from his chest as he grinds his hard cock against your inner thigh, the denim rough against your soft skin.

That growl in particular is your favourite, and you tell him so.

“Yeah?” he laughs a little, pulling back as sapphire searches your face rapidly, wide and bright and alert with the cocaine rushing through his body.

“Makes me—” sharp teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, just above your shoulder, a loud gasp cutting you off and bouncing against the walls of the small room. “Makes me wet, niichan,”

He groans into your skin, tongue wet and warm and caressing the skin in little licks back and forth, back and forth, back and forth as he sucks, branding you with brilliant violet.

“What’s this? My princess talking so dirty without being prompted?” he pulls back to look at you, and you can see the amusement dancing in his deep, deep eyes, endless pits of cerulean smothering everything their gaze touches, almost voracious as they soak it all up, feeling like they’re sucking the very life from you in the most delicious way.

A pitiful squeak escapes your lips in the form of an answer, heat seeping into your cheeks. He’s mocking you—you can tell. Those three words uttered from your lips aren’t even that dirty, are nothing compared to some of the things that have come out of your mouth while you’re delirious on his cock, begging for his cum.

Still, you’re unable to find your voice, staring at him in an almost helpless manner, a little kitten in the clutches of a jaguar, claws beginning to close in on you, trapping you between heavy, sharp paws.

“Ah,” he smirks, eyes darkening dangerously. “Not so bold when niichan’s actually looking at you, are you?”

Front teeth dig into your bottom lip, chewing on it a little as you hold his gaze, feeling heat gush between your thighs, the symphony of your combined slightly ragged breathing ringing in your ears.

“Say it again,”

And you try—really, you do, lips separating as you try to force the words out, a nasty combination of frustration and shame eroding your chest, burning and acidic, then shaking your head a moment later.

“Just,” you whimper as you try to pathetically rock against him. “Please?”

“Nah, nah, nah,” he’s shaking his head, that stupid grin etched across his face, pulling back even more but keeping you up against the wall, hands still cupping your ass, hips pinning yours. “Niichan isn’t gonna fuck you now unless you ask for it,”

Your forehead creases with a deep frown. You usually ask him to fuck you, don’t you? “I alwa—”

“No, no, you don’t,” he says simply with a tilt of his head. “Niichan wants you to really ask for it this time,”

You blink rapidly in confusion. “I-I don’t understand,”

Little breaths are beginning to leave your mouth, speeding up with the racing of your heart, terrified to upset him. Yet he looks amused, looks like he’s having so much fun as he torments you.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos with a false pout, mimicking your own. “You’re not that stupid, are you?”

A little whimper leaves your lips, chin twitching, threatening to begin trembling as you shake your head at him, unable to find words. Heat floods your face again, little pinpricks under the skin of your cheeks, a physical manifestation of your humiliation as he tuts his tongue.

“I don’t know how else to explain it to you,” he shrugs nonchalantly, though you can feel his cock throbbing through the thick denim of his jeans. “Just ask for my cock, babygirl,”

Although oozing with patronization, his voice is soft, blown pupils gazing at you with so much love it’s nearly overflowing from his eyes, slender fingers kneading the flesh of your ass almost tenderly as he waits.

And that’s all the encouragement you need, really.

“I-I want your cock, nii—” you begin, voice fading as your eyes meet his unimpressed gaze, raising an eyebrow at you as if to say Really? That’s the best you got?

A fierce need to prove yourself, to make him moan again, to make his stomach tense from just your words alone, blazes in your chest, burning through your veins and giving you another surge of confidence.

Gazing at him through your lashes, you pout a little more. “Niichan,” you whine out the honorific, back arching a little as you do. “Please, niichan, give it to me, I’m begging, my pussy is aching for your cock, T-Touya-nii—I need it filling me up, need it right now, f-feels so empty without you stretching me wide open,” the sentence fades off into a little whimper, but his lidded, glazed eyes, and the way his tongue runs along his bottom lip as he stares at you spurs you on, more dirty words spilling from your lips. “Feels—Feels wrong without your f-fat cock inside of me,” you nearly weep. “Please, niichan, make it right again,”

The gentle tremble in your voice only adds to it, somehow manages to make you seem so fucking innocent as you whine out such filthy words, and Touya can barely handle it, rubbing against your thigh, the repetitive motion of the denim dragging across your soft skin causing it to chafe.

“Fucking Christ,” he breathes, pressing his forehead against yours as his eyes slip shut. “I wish I had recorded that,”

A cute, shy little giggle bubbles up your throat, face still burning. “I-I can say it again, if you want, niichan,”

He laughs—a genuine laugh deep in his throat, paired with a smile that meets his eyes—and presses a chaste kiss to your nose.

“One day, I’ll film us,” he vows, and the thought alone makes your stomach swoop. “But now, niichan’s gonna make you feel right again, okay, princess?”

“Oh, please, please,” you’re whimpering, body quivering against him.

“Shh, niichan’s got you,” he murmurs as he fiddles with his belt using a singular hand, your tiny fingers wandering down between your bodies to aid him.

Shoving your panties to the side, the head of his cock presses against you, and you wince in anticipation of the stretch—the stretch you so lovingly begged him for, he reminds you, sapphire eyes soaking up every single one of your expressions as he pushes in; reveling in the way your shut lids tighten, face screwing up in pain as the softest little yelp hitches in your throat.

It burns unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, abused cunt still sore and raw from the night before, from being fucked so ruthlessly less than twenty-four hours ago.

But you’re so wet, he breathes, rolling his hips slowly, stretching you little hole out just a bit more with each unhurried rock of his hips against yours. The wetness does nothing to stop the sting that accompanies his motions, though, reopening the tiny superficial fissures in your sensitive skin, quite literally tearing you apart, again, as your cunt yields to his girth.

“Niichan, hurts,”

“Yeah, baby?”

Little fingers curl in his thick sweater, and you whimper out an affirmative, head nodding lethargically against his shoulder.

“I thought you wanted niichan to fill you up?” he speaks as though he’s confused, a hint of condescension sown into the question, never halting his thrusts.

“I-I do!” you say quickly, head shooting up to gaze at him with glassy eyes, thick shield of unshed tears causing them to gleam in the harsh light. “I do,”

“Well then,” he smirks at you, hips pulling back, slow and controlled, before thrusting back in, sharp and fast, so hard it shoves your body up the wall, head whacking against the concrete with such force it sends agonizing pain shooting through your skull like lightning strikes. “Stop being a fucking brat, and take what niichan’s giving you,” he scolds over the piercing cry that falls from your lips, voice rough, deep, rumbling the way thunder does, buried in thick clouds on a humid summer’s day.

“Ungrateful little slut,” he snarls out, panting a little as his hips set a punishing pace, rapidly slamming into you, his jutting hipbones digging into the fresh bruises from the night before.

And you’re powerless to stop the noises you’re emitting, catching in your throat in time with his harsh thrusts, little mewls of niichan! and broken whines bouncing off the solid, cold walls, each one reverberating in his skull, forcing his hips to drive faster, harder, deeper.

But it’s fucking intoxicating, the way he’s pulling those needy little sounds from you as tears slip down your cheeks, pompously spitting demeaning words at you, sugarcoated in a thin, gleaming layer of praise. He’s a goddamn drug, words invading your mind and casting a thick haze over it, and during that moment all you can see is him, hear is him, taste is him—you swear you can feel him rushing through your veins, his heady scent of expensive cologne mixed with hickory campfire and a hint of Marlboros filling your lungs, the organs swelling painfully as you hold him inside your chest, trying to keep a piece of him close to your heart.

He stops to readjust your position, grunting as hooks an arm under your knee and yanks, ripping it from around his waist and forcing it toward your torso, your ankle nearly resting on his shoulder, his hand splayed flat against the dirty wall, using it as leverage. Your other leg clings to him, wrapped so tightly around his body that the muscles are beginning to quiver. Still, this brief pause affords you a much needed moment to catch your breath before his hips piston into you again, harsh, strong, fast, cockhead slamming against your cervix with each snap of his hips.

Each thrust forces another yelp to tear from your throat, your voice hoarse and raw, as he bruises your abused cervix, sharp spikes of pain shooting up your lower back and down your trembling thighs. He’s a watery blur at this point, eyes overflowing with tears, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders as you clutch him, arms beginning to ache from holding yourself up.

Tufts of white hair stick to his neck and forehead, clumped together with sweat. He’s almost whining out curses, slipping from between clenched teeth as his thrusts continue to pick up speed, although you can barely hear him over the sound of your own ragged breathing, peppered with pitiful little sobs that leave your chest heaving.

“Look at you,” he gasps out, wild sapphire eyes searching your face. “So fucking beautiful, taking my cock so well,”

And even in such a position, inebriated from the potent combination of pain and pleasure and him, his praise still makes your heart soar. A little pink tongue darts out to wet your chapped lips, bitten raw by him and salty with your own tears. Strand of hair stick to your puffy cheeks, though you’re unsure if they’re coated in sweat or tears.

“C’mon, baby,” he nearly keens. “Want you to be a good girl and cum for me,”

And those two tiny, four letter words are the magic words, like they always are, your head nodding vigorously, incoherent babbling bubbling past your lips; yes niichan, of course, wanna be a good girl for you, touya-nii, the best girl, your best girl.

He gives you permission to touch your clit, swollen and aching from neglect, your fingers sneaking between your bodies to rub at it, pussy clenching almost immediately.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. “Yeah baby, just like that, milk niichan for all the cum he’s got,”

The praise, mixed with a direct command, has your fingers speeding up, moving in rapid circular motions, that cord of heat in your stomach coiling tighter, and tighter, and tighter, until it finally snaps, your little cunt throbbing as you gush around his cock.

He follows immediately after with a dark growl of your name, hips stilling as he finally cums, pinning you against the wall, cockhead pressed tightly against your sore cervix.

It’s thick, scalding, and copious, wrecked little noises getting caught in your throat as his cock pulses, filling you with endless spurts of cum; so much, too much, and you’re sure your womb isn’t nearly big enough to take it all, positive that it’s leaking out of you, running down your ass and down his balls.

You still haven’t caught your breath by the time Touya’s releasing you, hands firm on your hips as he places you gently on your feet, keeping you steady as your legs shake. You can still feel his cum leaking out of you, and you wish you had something better than your thin panties to keep it inside of you. With a pout, you tell him so, voice absolutely ruined as you wheeze out, “I-I wish I had a-a plug, niichan, to hold all of your cum inside me,”

“Christ,” he breathes, eyes twinkling as he gazes down at you, brushing his slender fingers through your sweaty hair. “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”

      ❅           ❅           ❅

You don’t remember much of the drive home, struggling to keep your heavy eyelids from falling shut. Touya’s half dried cum is sticky—now practically gelatinous—in your panties and the mere thought of it makes you whimper, wiggling your hips a little, trying to shuffle closer to him.

It makes you feel needy. It makes him feel wanted.

“Niichan’s here, baby,” he’s murmuring into your hair as he readjusts his arm around your waist, pulling both your legs over his lap, your side still pressed firmly against his. “Niichan’s here,”

A pitiful whine slips from your lips, little fingers curling in his hoodie as warm hands travel up your dress, kneading the supple flesh of your thighs. Fingers press into the bruises he knows are there without even having to look, smirking at the way you hiss, contrasted by the way your thighs spread just a bit more, giving him more room to work, to play. The pads of his fingers graze the tiny raised cuts that the rough denim of his jeans left behind, tracing the raised little scabs.

“Sleep,” he tells you softly. “You did so good today, such a good little girl for me, my best girl,”

And his voice is the most soothing lullaby, smooth like melted platinum and quiet enough that only you can hear it, undoubtedly drowned out to the others by the staticky car radio.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

The dark bedroom is bleary, as if you were gazing at it though a thick slab of glass, eyes scanning the room slowly, mumbling out something that’s unintelligible even to yourself.

You’re not exactly sure how you got here, sitting on one of the twin beds in yours and Touya’s shared bedroom, propped up against the tiny headboard like a doll.

Touya’s murmuring to you softly as tender hands find the hem of your dress, tugging it up slowly, slowly, slowly, a low whine getting caught in your throat as your soft skin is exposed to the cool air, until he’s removed it from you completely. The clasp at the back of your bra snaps, and you want to tell him to be more gentle, this is your favourite bra, but you can’t seem to make your tongue move, the muscle sitting slimy and heavy in your mouth. Your vision disappears entirely for a second as something soft is slipped over your head, your body engulfed in the scent of hickory wood and Marlboro smoke.

Then large hands are all over you, maneuvering you onto your side then rolling you onto your back, gently prying your thighs open a moment later as he kneels between them, the springy mattress dipping with his weight.

“Touya-nii,” his name escapes your lips in a jumbled whine of protest.

“Shh, baby,” he hushes you, pulling your soiled panties down your legs.

Every muscle in your body aches, weighted down with fatigue from the long day, a few weak kicks—more of a fluttering of your legs, really—being all you’re able to manage in resistance.

“Hurts, niichan,” you whimper, through your eyelids are already falling shut again, exhaustion tugging at your consciousness gently.

“I know, princess,” he responds, and you’re just awake enough for the words to register, brow furrowing. His body heat disappears for a moment from between your thighs as he leans over to grab something, then returns, waves of comforting warmth rolling off of him.

Your body flinches ever so slightly as you feel something cold and smooth being spread across your swollen folds and puffy little hole. Cream, your mind supplies feebly.

“Niichan—”

“Quiet now,” he says, voice firmer than before. An order, this time. “Go to sleep, baby, and let niichan take care of this,”

Hot, tingling sparks blossom deep in the pit of your stomach, making your entire body buzz, like you’re high off him again, the sensation causing your chest to swell. This is what love feels like—Touya rubbing cool, soothing cream into your raw skin as he murmurs soft praises to you—you’re absolutely positive about it.

“I love you,”

The words leave your lips as a dreamy sigh, body finally relaxing against the mattress again.

He presses a tender kiss to your inner thigh, the soft skin a mosaic of crimson and violet from his previous ministrations. “I love you more,”

And that’s the last thing you feel, the last thing you hear as your mind slowly drifts into unconsciousness, filled with hazy images of a pretty boy with glowing sapphires for eyes and ivory for hair, of slim veiny hands decorated with the most magnificent black ink, the pads of their fingertips dancing along your skin, of a deep, sultry voice smoother than satin murmuring how much it loves you as lips crawl up your body—up your thighs, over your stomach and ribs, along the curve of you neck, until finally, they reach yours.

[veilder]

"I thought you left" "Nope, just making pancakes" - Convin

Okay, so, I love this prompt and I promised I'd try to write it so... I actually did this last week at like 2 am and have been too busy to edit it until now. But I'm kinda sick of trying to puzzle it out so just take it please, omg.

(Prompt from this post if anyone's curious.)

Stay

The sun was already high in the sky when Gavin finally blinked awake. He could tell because there was one fuckin sliver of window he could never manage to cover with the blackout curtains hanging up in his bedroom and the goddamn sun was shining right in his fuckin eyes, Jesus Christ! With a groan, he rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut in a futile attempt to go back to sleep. But even that small burst of cognizance had its consequences. Gavin could feel the awareness creeping in fast, God fuckin dammit. Was a little shut-eye too much to ask for? But there was something... Something niggling at the back of his mind. It itched at instincts well-honed by over a decade on the force and not even his most earnest desire to return to oblivion could keep it at bay. Restlessly, Gavin huffed out a disgruntled sigh as he kicked at the covers, frustrated despite himself at being roused after the night he’d had— Like a shock passing through his body, Gavin’s eyes snapped open, memories of the previous evening flashing through is mind. But just as readily, a heaviness settling deep in his heart as he took in the other side of the bed. The sheets were mussed and the pillow indented, a clear sign of its former occupant. Evidence as plain as day told Gavin that last night hadn’t been some delusion or dream. And yet… He reached out a hand, an involuntary, desperate motion, tracing the outline where his partner had lain. Where Connor had lain. But just as he’d feared, the sheets were cold. They matched the ice filling his heart. Slowly shuffling upright, Gavin leaned back against the headboard as memories of the previous day filled his waking mind. Flashes of the case he and Connor had worked together rushed by in a flurry. The tip-off for the perp they’d been tracking for weeks and the reckless chase that followed. The abandoned warehouse. The shootout. Vivid Thirium across dirty concrete. Connor had taken a bullet for him. Gavin remembered staring up into those brown eyes, watching as a splatter of blue burst from his chest. "I'm fine," Connor had said, "the bullet didn't nick anything important." And even though the android had gotten right back up and proceeded to almost single-handedly take down the rest of the hostiles attacking them, it was still a moment Gavin knew would haunt him for a long-ass time. Shit was enough to give him nightmares. It did give him nightmares, in fact. Which is how the two of them had ended up back here. In Gavin's apartment. Together. Because after that little fiasco, after the gang had been arrested and the hostages recovered and both he and Connor had been checked over by a medic and technician respectively, it still left the job far from complete. Needless to say, Gavin had eventually nodded off at his desk after a long night of interrogation and paperwork, the rushes of adrenaline and fear more than even his beloved coffee could contend with. He only meant to rest his eyes for a moment. Just a moment and then he'd finish up. But when he awoke some indeterminate time later, it was to his own voice screaming, Connor's name upon his lips, Connor's blue blood scattered across the darkest corners of his mind, Connor's hand upon his shoulder jostling him awake. The android’s LED was flashing a violent red as he stared Gavin down, his brown eyes wide with worry. Gavin couldn't help but cling to him, something twisting, clenching in his heart and demanding he hold on tightly. From there, things had passed in a blur, though he remembered Fowler's imposing figure ordering the both of them to take the next few days off. Too tired and distressed to argue, Gavin agreed immediately, only too glad to get the fuck out of there and go home. And Connor? Connor insisted he drive Gavin home. Connor insisted he make sure Gavin got to his door. Connor insisted that he get Gavin to his bed. And Gavin, still clinging to the android with every last bit of his flagging strength, let him. Over and over he let the android steer him along, trusting a partner fully for the first time in... For the first time

in far too long. And when Gavin had finally settled, comfortable yet shivering in his too-large bed, he took a moment to insist right back. "Stay," he'd said. One word. One plea. A lifetime of wanting to not be alone wrapped up in a single syllable. A few short weeks of shifting worldviews and growing affections cradled in four letters. A wealth of experience in loss stealthily couched within a breath. Gavin insisted. And Connor stayed. Or, at least Gavin thought he had. Because here and now, in the stupidly bright light of day, he was alone again. Like always. He didn't know why he'd expected otherwise. He really should've known better. After all, why would Connor want to hang around here? Especially after his fuckin embarrassing little act last night, fuck. He probably had loads of things to do. Important... android things... People to meet. Places to be. He wouldn't waste his entire day sitting around in Gavin's shitty apartment while he slept like a log. How fuckin stupid would that be? It didn't mean anything. Gavin told himself this over and over again as he shifted, swinging his legs out from under the covers and onto the floor. Just because they could be considered friends now didn't mean Connor had to drop everything for him. Just because he'd begging him to stay didn't mean Connor owed him anything. He'd probably felt uncomfortable as hell last night, what with Gavin whining and bitching at him like a fuckin child. Probably said what he could to mollify him before getting the hell out of Dodge. Gavin couldn't even blame him for that. Fuck, Connor'd just had emergency maintenance done! Because of Gavin! Like hell he'd want some handsy human all over him for ten straight hours, Jesus Christ. It didn't mean anything. Even if he wished it did. His stomach picked that moment to rumble, thankfully interrupting his little pity-party. Thank fuck. It was too early in the morning (or afternoon technically) to be crying over stupid shit. He was probably just hungry. Yeah, that's it. He's all fuckin emotional cause he hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours. It didn't matter that Connor fucked off ASAP, Gavin could get some waffles delivered. Waffles never fuckin betrayed him. He could trust waffles. With newfound resolve, Gavin stood, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before scrolling through his food delivery aps to see if he could get waffles from anywhere at two in the fuckin afternoon. With heavy tread he stepped out into the hallway, mouth already watering at the prospect and stomach rumbling again in agreement. Fuck, he could almost smell them already. Wait. No, he can smell them? What the fuck?! Before Gavin could do anything more but stand there in his pajamas, wide-eyed and mystified, a figure stepped into view. Instinctively, Gavin's heart raced, adrenaline flooding his veins as the threat of a home invader cycled through his brain. In that fraction of a second, he was prepared to dive into an all-out brawl with the bastard. He was not in the mood for this shit! But then said bastard's lips quirked into a dazzling grin and a brown-eyed gaze sent Gavin reeling in disbelief. While his brain was preoccupied with keeping his suddenly-weak legs standing, his idiot mouth opened up on it's own: "I thought you left,” he said, choking on his disbelief. Connor (because of course it was Connor) only quirked his head to the side in that cute way he does, looking for all the world like the dogs he so adored. His LED flashed a single, swirling yellow before settling back to blue and he said, "No, I was just making pancakes. I thought perhaps you might be hungry." A strange hesitance entered his voice, some dour note falling across his features. "Did you want me to leave?" "No!" Gavin blurted out in a moronic, high-pitched squeak because again, he was nothing if not an idiot. (And one destined to embarrass himself at every possible moment at that.) Clearing his throat, he tried again. "I mean, you can do whatever you want. Doesn’t matter to me." (He's lying through his teeth. It obviously did matter to him. It

mattered a huge fuckin deal!) Connor blinked at him, the only sign of the awkward atmosphere between them the flashing colors at his temple. "Your words run contrary to both your body language and your involuntary actions," he said, "And they are a direct counterpoint to your request last night." Gavin fidgeted, knowing the damn android was right but never in a million years wanting to admit it. "Stop analyzing me, dipshit, it's too early for this." Finally, Connor's face relaxes a bit, a smile smile stealing across his lips. "It is two thirty-three in the afternoon, Gavin. Far from early." "Oh, can it, Poindexter! You know what I mean!" With a huff, Gavin moves forward, sidling past his annoying house guest. "What was that about pancakes?" Connor beams at him as the two of them enter the kitchen. "Ah yes. I determined that you would be hungry after going so long without food. I managed to make due with your atrocious grocery selection and have prioritized calories over nutrition for the time being. But just this once.” While Connor seemed dead set on critiquing the apparently-lackluster pantry he’d been forced to bravely overcome, Gavin only had eyes for the heaping pile of flapjacks sitting at his breakfast nook, fluffy and golden brown and still steaming. Fresh off the griddle, holy shit. How did he…? Despite his hunger, Gavin looked over at Connor questioningly. It was almost like the android could read his mind (which was a scary fucking thought) as he answered his unspoken query immediately: "I calculated your sleep cycle based off the Circadian rhythms I observed during your convalescence. I'm glad I timed it right. I wanted you to enjoy your breakfast." "It's past 2 pm," Gavin retorted with a smirk, "can't be breakfast now, hotshot." Connor's answering smile made Gavin want to melt into a puddle and he quickly turned away, staring at said breakfast with a helpless desperation. "Indeed," the android said, heedless of his partner's distress. "Regardless of the time of day, I wanted you to enjoy your meal, nonetheless." And something more vulnerable finally stole into his voice then, the merest shadow of his quiet pleas from the night before. "I thought, perhaps, you might consider them an offering." Gavin tore his gaze away from his not-breakfast then, looking up at his partner with enough confusion to drive out all other complicated emotions. "What offering? What the fuck are you talking about, tincan?" And now Connor was the one to look away. "It's just that..." He drew in a deep breath (though Gavin knew it was only him mimicking humans. Fucker didn't actually need to breathe) and continued, "yesterday... Yesterday frightened me. When I saw that gunman aiming at you, I—" He clenched his eyes shut, LED flashing a dangerous red. "In that moment, I preconstructed a multitude of outcomes, many of them where you did not survive. In which that bullet found its mark. And the thought of it, Gavin!" he wails. "I couldn't—! The thought was unbearable! And so I calculated the best result. And I determined my course of action. And you lived. You lived. And I thought that would be the end of it. But..." Finally, Connor looked up, his eyes meeting Gavin's head-on once more. "It was like a glitch. The preconstruction, it— It kept resurfacing again and again and again, every time you were out of my sight. And I... I disliked the feeling immensely. I think perhaps I hated it, even. And so I did my best to linger. I didn't want to leave you. Even though I knew you were safe, I still... It was so irrational but I still wanted to verify that you were okay. I still do." Before them the pancakes were growing cold, but neither paid them any mind. Connor looked away again, eyes shut. "I thought that, perhaps you had figured this much out last night. Which is why you asked me to stay. Because we are friends now and that's what friends do. But I worried that I may have... forced the issue... in my desperation. And I-I... I wanted to do something for you in return for your generosity." Looking down at the cooling

breakfast, Connor's face fell further. "I know it's not much but I thought at least—" Gavin had heard enough. "Okay, okay, okay, hold the fuck up, dumbass!" He stood, breakfast forgotten, and approached the shocked android with a fierce determination. Jabbing a finger directly into Connor's chest, he stated as sternly as he could, "You don't owe me a goddamn thing! For fuck's sake, Connor! You fuckin saved my goddamn life yesterday! You took a fuckin bullet for me! And even after that, you still fuckin stayed with me and made sure I got home safe!" A growl rumbled through his chest as Gavin poked Connor again. "I was having a fuckin nightmare about you dying! When you woke me up in the precinct! Did you know that?!" Connor shook his head but Gavin only poked him a third time, this time with much less force. He left his hand there, palm splayed across where his heart would be were he human. "That shit kept replaying for me, too. Over and over again. So I get it. I get wanting to 'verify.' I was doing the same thing. That's why I asked you to stay. Because I fuckin—! I wanted you here, okay?! Because the idea that you were hurt or injured or fuckin dead had me panicking!" He brought his other arm up now, slinging it around Connor's broad shoulders in a half-embrace, and leaned in, burying his face in the android's neck. "That shit's unbearable to me, too, tincan. Thinking of this fuckin trash heap of a world without you in it is—" He sucked in a breath. "Can't stand the thought." They stood there for what felt like an eternity (though it was probably only a few seconds) before slowly—tentatively—Connor brought his own arms up to squeeze around Gavin. He held him with a brittle tenderness, his touch light and careful as if he was afraid Gavin might break. And fuck, maybe he would. Maybe Connor could shatter him into a hundred-thousand little pieces. But shit, he'd take it. Because Gavin would never have been in this situation in the first place if Connor hadn't broken right through his walls first, scattering him and leaving him adrift in a strange, new world. And when he’d managed to build himself back up, it was into something—someone—stronger. Someone who could look at the world and see progress instead of oppression, opportunity instead of limitations, people instead of just machines. Connor had shattered his body once before down in the archives. He'd shattered his mind too over these last few months. It’d only make sense for him to shatter his heart as well. But he didn't. He wouldn't. And as Connor held him like a thing to be cherished, Gavin felt again that perhaps he'd been right last night. Perhaps this was a partner he could trust. A partner who could trust him, too. And perhaps he would— "Stay."

_____________

Bonus:

Connor: "Okay, but only if you eat your pancakes. I didn't download an entire cooking catalogue for you to let them go to waste, Gavin." Gavin: "Fuckin bite me, we're having a moment here." Connor: "Is your stomach rumbling part of that moment?" Gavin: "God fucking dammit, I fuckin hate you." Connor: ^_^ "False!" Gavin: "Fuck!"

And they lived happily ever after. ♥

[timelesslords]

prompts: could you write an in canon verse (so like gods and stuff are real) fic with amnesia? it could be post TLO or it could be one of them coming out of anesthesia and feeling wonky. i just love a good memory loss fic.

@halfbloodcarrie was instrumental in making this happen!!! Her adorable fluffy idea was completely paid dust in favor of making this angsty as hell but I blame her for me getting it done at all <3

read on AO3

Everything was dark. And everything hurt. His head especially was throbbing, but he couldn’t make out any other feeling. He could hear something; vague at first, just a ringing. But if he struggled, and he did, he could start to make out faint voices. His eyes refused to open, they wouldn’t even blink, but the noises were getting clearer by the second.

“What if he doesn’t wake up?” a worried voice asked. Something about it felt familiar, but he couldn’t even pry his eyes open, much less figure out who it belonged to.

“He’ll wake up,” a second voice said, male this time. He sounded confident, assured. At least he thought so.

“There was so much blood, I thought… gods.”

The first voice again, though this time it wavered. It sounded scared, terrified even.

“He’ll be alright, Annabeth. He’s got a thick skull.”

That made the first voice laugh, watery as it was.

“Don’t I know it.”

Some feeling was starting to return to his limbs, slowly but surely. He tried blinking again, but it felt sluggish, slow. Suddenly he realized he could feel his arms and fingers, and there was a hand in his, gripping it so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t felt it before.

“Percy?” the female voice asked, hopeful. He groaned. His head was pounding like nothing he’d ever felt before. Actually, he wasn’t sure if that was true, because he couldn’t remember his head pounding before, ever.

Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember anything at all.

He blinked again, this time managing to pry his eyelids open a fraction of a degree. The light streaming in hurt like a bitch, and he groaned again, closing his eyes.

“Percy,” the first voice said again, more frantically, “Can you hear me?”

She seemed to be talking to him, though he wasn’t quite sure. He couldn’t remember his name, but she’d said Percy twice, so that had to be it, didn’t it?

He tried to say something to the girl, but it came out as a strangled groan of pain.

“Will,” she said, a little desperately.

“He’s maxed out, Annabeth, I’m sorry,” the other voice said.

The girl (Annabeth?) muttered something under her breath in-- was that Greek? And how did he know that? More determined than ever, Percy blinked again, this time managing to crack his eyelids open and keep them that way.

His vision was blurry, but a few more blinks and the vague shapes in front of him started to sharpen into focus.

“Percy?” the girl said again. Percy squinted, trying to focus on her.

The first thing he noticed was that she was-- well, pretty didn’t quite describe it. She was seriously beautiful. Her eyes were a dark grey color, currently wide with concern, her hair framing her face in cascades of golden curls. Her nose was small and button shaped, dotted with freckles.

Even if Percy didn’t currently feel like a small blacksmith’s forge was hammering on the inside of his skull, he was pretty sure he would’ve been rendered pretty speechless.

“Hey there, sleepyhead. You were out for a while,” she said, smiling. She did look relieved, but Percy didn’t miss the genuine worry behind her eyes either, the little waver along her lips trying to maintain an upbeat expression.

“I… what’s going on?” Percy asked. Annabeth bit her lip, looking over her shoulder. Percy glanced upwards, properly seeing the other person in the room for the first time. He was a teenager, with shaggy blonde hair a shade or two lighter than the girl’s. He was wearing a white lab coat over what looked to be an orange t-shirt and jeans, which didn’t exactly instill Percy with a lot of confidence in whatever medical care he was receiving.

Of course, the fact that he had no memory didn’t help matters.

“You sort of got hit in the head,” Annabeth said, wincing as she did.

“Really hard,” the boy added.

Percy reached up tentatively, to the place where it felt like his skull was splitting inside out. Instead of skin he felt something else, some thick sort of fabric.

“Ow,” he said, a little unhelpfully. The girl smiled again-- crap, how was she even more beautiful when she smiled?-- but it still had an edge of sadness to it.

“Yeah. Discus accident,” she said.

“Discus accident?” Percy asked, confused.

“Yeah. Those stone frisbee things, remember?” the other guy said.

“No,” Percy said, pushing himself into a sitting position. It made his head throb, but he couldn’t stand lying down anymore. “I don’t-- I don’t remember anything.”

“You mean-- you mean you don’t remember the accident,” Annabeth said, a little forcefully. Her grey eyes flashed, and Percy didn’t quite recognize the expression, but something in his gut told him it was not good.

“No, I mean I don’t remember anything,” Percy repeated, figuring it was best to get it out of the way sooner or later, “I don’t know where I am or who you are or who I am.”

The girl took one very long look at him. He didn’t know what exactly he had said in particular that had triggered something in her, but the concern fell from her face in an instant. She dropped his hand, something sharp overtaking her expression.

“You’re such an ass sometimes,” she said. Her voice was a little thick, but Percy couldn’t tell if she was crying, because in the next second she stood and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Inadvertently, Percy felt a twinge of something sad in his chest, though he couldn’t quite place why. He didn’t know Annabeth, but she clearly seemed to know him, and what he’d said had clearly set her off.

All of this was really not improving his headache, which had resumed its throbbing with reckless abandon.

“I didn’t mean to…” Percy trailed off. To what? Upset her? Make her run away? But all he’d done was tell the honest truth-- he couldn’t remember shit. The guy was giving him a look that was bordering on disgust.

���Dude, that’s really not funny,” he said. He sounded pissed, though if Percy wasn’t entirely mistaken, there was a hint of fear behind his bright blue eyes.

“I’m not trying to be funny, I literally don’t know what’s going on,” Percy said, starting to feel a little frantic. Why was everyone here acting like they knew him? And why did he not even know him? He felt nerves and something else tugging in his gut, an insistent, terrifying pull--

Without warning, the glass next to his bed shattered, spraying water and glass everywhere. Percy flinched away from the table, whirling around to look at the boy. His eyes were wide and surprised.

“What the fuck was that?” Percy asked, alarmed.

“That was… you,” the boy said, staring at Percy like he had just grown a second head, “Styx, you’re not making this up, are you?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know what’s going on for you to believe me?” Percy said, still staring wide-eyed at the place where the cup had shattered. For his own sanity, he decided to ignore the boy’s declaration that he had caused it.

“Four, apparently,” the boy said, rubbing his forehead like he could feel a headache coming on, “Unless you want to make it five for good measure?”

“I have absolutely no memory,” Percy repeated.

“Great. This is just-- this is awesome,” the boy said, sighing heavily.

“Yeah, I’m having so much fun over here,” Percy said dryly.

“Right, sorry,” the boy said, wincing, “Your name is Percy.”

So Percy had guessed that correctly. Good to know.

“My name is Will,” the boy continued, oblivious to Percy’s thoughts, “The girl was--”

“Annabeth,” Percy finished. Will perked up, hopeful, but Percy shook his head.

“I heard you say her name,” Percy explained. Will deflated.

“Oh, right,” he said. He sounded inordinately disappointed, way more disappointed than he’d been when Percy hadn’t remembered him.

“How exactly did this happen?” Percy asked, doing his best not to rub his forehead again. Will sighed.

“Some newbies were messing around with the discuses on the strawberry fields-- which is stupidly dangerous, by the way, we have an arena for a reason-- but it went a little off course and almost hit Annabeth in the face. You shoved her out of the way but it clipped your forehead pretty good.”

Percy tried to process all that, piece by piece. He didn’t know what a newbie was, and apparently wherever this place was had strawberry fields that he and Annabeth had been in together? But the strangest thing of all was that Percy didn’t feel at all surprised that he’d gotten injured trying to get Annabeth out of the way. That piece felt strangely right to him, even if everything else was messy and confusing.

“So me and Annabeth are friends, then?” he asked. Will gave him a strange look, his face paling slightly.

“You guys… you’re close. Really close.”

Percy nodded. That made sense. He didn’t know why Will was being weird about it, but he believed him regardless.

“She was mad at me,” Percy noted. At this, Will winced.

“Yeah. Memory loss… it's kind of a sore subject for her.”

“Why?” Percy asked. Maybe it was a little invasive, but this was all stuff he was supposed to know anyway, wasn’t it?

Will sighed, rubbing his face in his hands.

“Gods, I’m so not the person to be explaining this to you,” he said, “But a few years ago you sort of… disappeared. And you lost all your memories. Except you remembered her. But it was really, really tough on her, she had no idea if you were gonna know anything or not when she found you.”

Percy blinked, trying to take all that in. He had a feeling that was the hyper-condensed version of what had gone down, but it explained the situation well enough. Annabeth hadn’t considered the fact that he genuinely wouldn’t remember her, so she’d assumed it was a bad joke. Percy wished it was a bad joke, because he would give absolutely anything to remember more about her.

“Got it,” Percy said, trying not to frown, “So how did I get my memories back last time? Can we do that again?”

Will grimaced.

“I think last time you drank gorgon’s blood, but we’re fresh out of that.”

Percy stared at him, unsure if he was joking or not. He looked serious, but Percy didn’t want to press it. Clearly last time had been a different sort of deal.

“So what do we do? I can’t go around like this forever.”

“Well, hopefully it's just temporary. Your head injury, plus the mortal pain meds we gave you, plus the nectar--”

“The what?” Percy asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Will said, a little hurriedly. “The point is, your brain is processing a lot of stuff right now. My best guess is that it overloaded a bit, and the amnesia is a side effect. If that’s the case it should go away on its own eventually.”

“And if it’s not the case?” Percy asked, dreading the answer a little. As predicted, WIll grimaced again.

“It could be from the initial injury. In which case it would be… more permanent.”

Percy’s mouth went a little dry.

“Goodie.”

“It probably isn’t,” Will said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

“So what do we do?” Percy asked again.

“You could try going to sleep. It might give your brain a chance to readjust, chill out a little. Or…”

Will trailed off, clearly unwilling to finish his thought.

“Or?” Percy prompted.

“Or we could try to jog your memory with stuff you might remember,” Will finished. Percy didn’t understand why this option seemed to be so unpleasant to Will, since it made the most sense to him. He felt disoriented as hell, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to calm his mind down enough to sleep anytime soon. Plus, he was pretty sure he’d been unconscious for a good long while.

“How long was I asleep just now?” Percy asked.

“A while,” Will admitted.

“So let’s try the other thing.”

Will swallowed heavily, his fingers gripping the sides of his white coat a little too tightly.

“Yeah. Okay,” he said, still not sounding happy about it at all, “I’ll-- ugh. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Percy did not move, mostly because he didn’t think he could get up from his bed if he tried. Being alone gave him the chance to observe the room he was in a little bit. It was small but clean, sort of a cross between a normal bedroom and a hospital unit. The walls were made of old looking hardwood, and if he craned his head back a little bit he could almost see out the window. It looked green out there, but it was kind of hard to tell.

Nothing about this place felt familiar, but that didn’t mean much, given nothing Percy had experienced since waking up felt familiar.

Nothing except for those few flashes of feeling he’d gotten about Annabeth, anyway.

Will was gone for a long time, a lot longer than Percy had been expecting. He couldn’t tell time very well and he didn’t see a clock anywhere, but it felt like Will had to have been gone at least half an hour, maybe more. Just when Percy was about to give up and try taking a nap, the door opened again. Will was there, but this time Annabeth was in tow too.

Percy tried not to read too hard into the fact that she didn’t look happy to be there. If he wasn’t mistaken, her eyes were puffy and red from crying, though now they were narrowed in barely constrained anger, her arms folded over her chest.

Will, for his part, looked extremely nervous. That didn’t give Percy a lot of hope about how this was going to go.

“It would probably work better if you could get up and walk around, but well…” he trailed off, but Percy knew exactly why that wasn’t possible. Just keeping his eyes open had been a struggle, and he was pretty sure if he tried to stand right now he was gonna black out.

“Yeah, sounds like a bad idea,” he agreed. Annabeth said nothing, just kept staring with her jaw clenched tight.

“I figured-- you know, you remembered Annabeth last time,” Will said, still sounding nervous, “And you guys have known each other for years, so if anything is going to jog your memory… well.”

“Okay,” Percy said, easily.

Annabeth remained silent.

“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Will said, looking like he absolutely couldn’t wait to get out of the room. He did a second later, slipping out the door and shutting it behind him.

Annabeth looked extraordinarily unhappy to be there. Any care that she had displayed for him when he first woke up was apparently gone. She said nothing as she looked at him with nothing but ice in her eyes.

He didn’t know why exactly she was so pissed-- it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t remember anything, and wouldn’t it be worse for him anyway? But she didn’t seem keen on speaking to him anytime soon, and Percy figured it was up to him to break the ice.

“So, um. Are you single?” Percy asked. It was dumb, sure, but he didn’t remember shit, and this girl was pretty and she seemed to care about him and well? Might as well shoot his shot.

Annabeth muttered something under her breath, something that sounded suspiciously like I’m going to kill you. Cool. Definitely did not make her hotter to him, not even a little bit.

“I’m not single,” she said, practically glaring at him.

“Got it. Sorry,” Percy said. For just a second her eyes ducked away, sadness replacing anger. But then she looked back up, and her previous expression was reinstated.

“Why don’t we just stick to you,” she said.

“Sure,” Percy said. He didn't want to make her mad again, because he had a feeling if that kept happening it would not end well for him. He wasn’t sure what could be worse than complete and total amnesia, but looking at Annabeth he was pretty sure she could think of something.

She took a deep breath, a little unsteadily.

“Your name is Percy,” she said, “I guess Will already told you that, though.”

Percy nodded. She moistened her lips, staring down at the ground.

“Okay. What else do you want to know?”

“Where are we?” Percy asked. It wasn’t his most urgent question, but it felt like a safer one to ask. Then again, from the look on Annabeth’s face, maybe that was a miscalculation. She was biting her lip, the anger in her expression softening slightly. It seemed to be replaced by something sad though, and Percy found he almost preferred the anger.

“It’s… a little hard to explain. But we’re at a camp. A summer camp. It’s-- it’s where we met.”

“Why are we here now?” Percy asked. Annabeth shrugged.

“We’re just visiting,” she said.

“Together?” Percy asked. She stared at him, swallowing heavily.

“Yeah. Together,” she said, though she was clearly unwilling to elaborate.

Okay then. Time for a new line of questioning. A safer line, one that hopefully wouldn’t put her on the verge of tears.

“What’s my favorite color?” he asked.

“Blue,” she said, instantly.

“Favorite food?”

“Anything blue,” she said, just as fast.

“I eat blue food?” Percy asked, confused. She smiled for the first time since he’d told her his memory was gone. It was small, but it still made his heart flutter.

“Yeah. It’s sort of an inside joke with you and your mom,” she said. The smile faded just as fast as it had come, but her answer had inadvertently given Percy more information than he’d expected.

“So I’m close to my mom?” Percy asked, unable to help it. Annabeth nodded again. She took a tentative step forward, sitting back down on the chair beside his bed.

“Who else?” he asked, without thinking. Annabeth frowned, a little confused.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean--” Percy started, realizing this might be a little too much too soon, but wanting to know so badly he couldn’t help but ask anyway, “I mean, who else am I close to?”

Annabeth didn’t answer for a long minute. She was looking down at the ground again, her hands gripping her own shoulders, arms shielding her chest. She seemed to be contemplating something, though what it was, Percy wasn’t sure.

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked that question. Maybe it was too personal-- with a start Percy realized that Annabeth was probably a pretty high priority for him, given the scant details he knew about their relationship, and him not knowing that intrinsically had to hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “Just forget it, tell me something else.”

She finally looked back up at him, though she still seemed upset and unsure.

“No, it’s fine,” she said, though she was clearly forcing her voice not to waver, “Like I said, you’re close to your mom, her name is Sally. You have a sister named Estelle and a brother named Tyson. And your best friend is--” she stumbled, but found herself again, “His name is Grover.”

Percy noticed that Annabeth’s own name was conspicuously absent from that list. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut, all things considered, but his curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to know this more than anything.

“What about you?” he asked, voice quiet.

It took her less time to answer than he expected, but she was still quiet for a minute.

“You asked me if I was single,” she said finally, eyes ducked down, a rosy blush growing in her cheeks, “And I said no because-- because we’re dating. We have been for a while.”

“Oh,” Percy said. He could feel his own face getting red, even though this was kind of great news-- or maybe not so great news, considering his stupid brain still couldn’t remember shit. But it still felt right, like a puzzle piece slotting into place. Of course he was dating her. That was just correct, an inalienable fact he felt dumb for not knowing, despite not knowing anything at all.

“Yeah,” she said, “But you don’t remember, so… so I don’t know anymore, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said, and he felt it. He felt like an idiot, both for trying to flirt with her earlier, and for not putting the pieces together sooner. The hand holding probably should have given it away, at the very least.

To his surprise, Annabeth gave him a small smile, even though her eyes were a little red. She wiped them on her sleeve, clearly trying not to do it in an obvious way.

“Sorry, it’s just-- that’s so you,” she said, sniffling a little.

“What’s so me?” Percy asked. He felt stupid, oblivious, but she just smiled again, a touch wider this time.

“Apologizing for something that isn’t even your fault.”

“I really am sorry,” Percy said, and he felt worse with every word, “I want to remember, I do, it’s just-- all of it’s gone.”

“I know,” she said. She sounded defeated. “I guess it would be too much to ask for you to remember me twice, huh?”

She said it like a joke, but Percy could feel the real pain behind her words. He felt an ache in his chest, like a phantom pain he couldn’t quite place, something in him mirroring her own hurt. He wanted so badly to comfort her, but he didn’t know how.

Or maybe he did. His brain was a jumbled mess, but he did know the only things that had made him feel anything since he’d woken up had to do with her.

“I… I almost get flashes,” he admitted, glancing up at her again. She wasn’t quite meeting his eye, looking somewhere over his shoulder, but he continued anyway. “When you say or do things… It’s like my body knows what to feel but my mind doesn’t know why.”

She glanced up, her eyes finally meeting his own. They were still shining with tears, though not as intensely as before.

“Like how?” she asked, simply. Percy swallowed heavily, not exactly sure what to say. It was hard to describe, given he’d barely recognized his own feelings.

“Like… like when you left, before. I was upset but I didn’t know why. I didn’t know you but I knew… I knew that was supposed to hurt, somehow. And when Will told me about how I got hurt in the first place, how I was trying to keep the frisbee thing from hitting you-- that felt right, but I don’t know why.”

She had graduated to crying in earnest now, tears slipping out of the corner of her eyes and falling down her cheeks. Percy felt the inexplicable urge to reach out and brush them away, but he knew he couldn’t. And that hurt too for some reason, a hollow aching in his chest he couldn’t quite place even though the reason for it was standing right in front of him.

“And right now,” Percy continued, even though maybe he shouldn’t, “You’re upset and I just feel this urge to do something, and I can’t because I don’t know how.”

“Percy, please--” she said, still crying, her voice rough with tears. He didn’t know what she was begging for, but he couldn’t help his next words slipping out, like his tongue knew more what to do than his mind.

“I don’t know anything about me, but I know-- I know I love you. I can feel it. I’m not just saying it either, I swear I can feel it.”

“Percy,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper this time.

“You have to help me, Annabeth. I don’t know what to do,” he said, and this time it was his turn for his voice to get thick, a lump in his throat obscuring his words.

“I--” she started, swallowing heavily, eyes welling with tears again, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes you do,” Percy said, and he was sure she did, something in him just knew, “You always do, don’t you?”

That felt right too, even if he couldn’t place why, but it seemed to mean more to her than to him. She stared at him, eyes wide and scared. She was so close now, close enough that he could see every freckle on her nose.

Annabeth looked so panicked that for a second a second, Percy thought she was going to hit him, but then she did the opposite. She leaned over and kissed him.

Her lips were soft and sweet, and she tasted like strawberries and salt. His lips seemed to know exactly what to do, moving against hers like they’d kiss her a thousand times-- and maybe they had. His hand moved, almost of its own accord to her hair, tangling in it, pulling her a fraction of an inch closer--

And then it hit him. The scent of her shampoo, lemony and sharp and familiar.

He gasped, not meaning to, but she pulled back, grey eyes wide.

“Percy?” she asked, hopeful even as she tried to hide it.

“Annabeth,” he said, trying not to panic as things started to float through his mind-- more than things, memories. Her face and her voice and her words, the feeling of her hand in his and her smile against his lips, it all started to flood back like it had never left.

“Are you--” she asked, her hands on his shoulders, gripping tight, too tight, but he didn’t even care.

“Annabeth,” he breathed, saying her name like a revelation, because it was, “You’re Annabeth Chase, you’re my girlfriend and an architect and you’re scared to death of spiders and you still sleep with a teddy bear--”

She cut him off at that last point, throwing her arms around him and hugging him harder than she ever had-- except for maybe that time she’d thought he was dead for two weeks and he’d crashed his own funeral. Percy hugged her back just as hard, because he actually remembered that.

It hadn’t all come back-- things were blurry, most things, actually. But Annabeth at least felt clear in his mind, a shining beacon welcoming the rest of his memories back. He was already starting to get a headache again, but he didn’t care. They would come back. And even if they didn’t-- he had her. That was enough.

She pulled back from her bone crushing embrace, keeping their faces so close their noses were almost touching. She seemed scared that if she pulled away he might too, even though he had no intention of doing so, physically or mentally.

“So you’re back? Really?” she asked, sounding scared to know the answer.

“Sort of,” Percy confirmed, wincing as he did. He really was starting to get a pounding headache. “I remember you. And bits and pieces of other things, but mostly you.”

Annabeth breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes for a long moment.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she whispered, her hands trailing up his neck, just barely scraping his hair.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he breathed. And he did know, now better than ever. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since he’d woken up without his memory, but he knew every minute of it had to have been hell for her.

Annabeth sighed, pulling back further, so he could see her whole face. Her eyes were still red from crying, and her cheeks were still flushed from their kiss. But he could see the barest traces of humor in her expression, a slight tug at the corner of her mouth where a smile was being repressed.

“What?” he asked, but she just shook her head.

“It’s nothing,” she said, but her smile had grown.

“Come on, I just had amnesia. You have to tell me.”

She laughed, a light tinkling sound. It was just on the edge of being hysterical, but she deserved it, after the day she’d been having.

“Fine. I was just thinking-- Hera couldn’t make you forget me but a glorified frisbee could?” Annabeth said.

“Hey, it was heavy!” Percy protested, but he couldn’t help but grin as he did. He would probably stay grinning for the rest of his life, actually.

“You’re such an idiot,” she breathed, pulling him into a hug again, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Percy said, hugging her back. And now he knew he did, in a permanent, tangible way.

There was still a lot missing, but he had the most important bits down. His name was Percy Jackson. He was twenty years old, and in college and a demigod, and lots of other things that would surely return with time.

And he loved Annabeth Chase more than anything in the world.

[separatist-apologist]

"truth is that i'm so damn in love with you that i don't know what to do with myself" - for lucien please!!

I'm so sorry I've fallen behind on prompts! I will be answering them all with a vengeance this upcoming week. Also, I hope you wanted smut.

This is NSFW, 18+, you know the editing vibes (non-existent).

--

Friends. That’s what Elain had said almost a year ago when he approached her. I don’t want a mate…but I could use a friend. Lucien had jumped at the chance to spend time with her. After all, something was better than nothing, right?

Wrong, he realized practically a month later. Even without the mating bond, Lucien thought he would have been utterly obsessed with her. Who knew how lively Elain could be? Or funny? Smart, and sharp and witty…she was everything he could have hoped for and much, much more. Friends. The word tasted sharp and metallic in his mouth, like blood pouring down his throat, threatening to drown him. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. I don’t want to be your friend! He thought even as he smiled and escorted her from this court or that. He had made her a promise, and Lucien thought it was better to have her however he could get her than to not have her at all. Still, sometimes when she looked at him with those soft, brown eyes, the edges creased with fondness, he could pretend she loved him too.

Because Lucien was in love with Elain. Stupidly, head over heels in love with the female in a way that both terrified andthrilled him. She was all he thought about, all he dreamt of. Her smile made his bones ache and her laugh threatened to consume him with burning, passionate fire. They were back in Velaris, their time together officially complete. Rhysand had nothing for the pair of them and so Elain was unpacking as she chattered animatedly with her sisters and Lucien lay down the hall, face down into a pillow. Tomorrow he’d continue on his own, leaving her behind and why shouldn’t he? They were friends. Friends didn’t need to spend every waking moment together.

He didn’t move even when Feyre knocked for dinner. He heard the door open a second time when the sun went down and smelled Elain even before he saw her.

“Tired?” She asked softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Waiting for death to take me, he thought as he turned his head to face her. “A little.”

She brushed his hair out of his face with her fingers and Lucien tried to pretend the gesture had no effect on him.

“Tomorrow is going to be strange,” she murmured, her eyes meeting his. “You leaving…me staying. Who will make my tea in the morning?”

Lucien’s insides shriveled to dust. “I’m sure you could ask one of the servants.”

She nodded, her eyes becoming glassy with thought. “Yeah…it won’t be the same, thought.” Lucien could agree with that. Come with me! His mind screamed. Instead, he closed his eyes as she continued to stroke little pieces of hair off his face, the pads of her fingertips zapping electricity through his veins.

“Will you come to dinner with me, at least?” She asked gently. Lucien would rather eat his own hand than pretend everything was fine.

“I’m not hungry,” he told her petulantly. She withdrew her hand, biting her bottom lip.

“I knew it. You’re angry with me.”

Lucien pushed himself off his chest to sit on the bed. “What?” He asked dumbly.

“You’re angry. Why?” She asked, her chin trembling.

“I’m not angry,” he assured her, standing quickly. She looked up him with defiance.

“Then come to dinner with me.”

“No,” he replied, fear bubbling in his blood.

“Because you’re mad—”

“Fuck, Elain! The truth is I’m so damn in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself!” He all but shouted, fisting his hands at his sides. Her mouth fell open, but Lucien couldn’t stop not that he’d started. “You want a friend and I want to be that for you, but I don’t wantto go downstairs and pretend I’m not gonna miss every single inch of you when I leave. We can go back to friendship in the morning but right now, I want to be alone.”

Her eyes were glassy again, her cheeks burning red, and he wondered if he’d taken things too far. He took a hesitant half-step towards her. “Elain, I’m—”

“Finally,” She breathed before launching herself into his arms, her mouth covering his before he could finish his apology. Lucien clutched her against his chest, groaning into her mouth with both suppressed need and his exuberance. Kissing, kissing, mate is kissing—

His mate was also quickly unbuttoning his pants, he thought, his tongue sweeping into her mouth.

“Took you forever,” she gasped against his lips, letting him pick her up, his hands bracing her ass like seat. “Started to think—ah, Lucien—you didn’t like me at all.”

He nipped down her neck, her legs wrapped around his waist, dress bunched up to expose her underwear to his aching, now freed cock. The position was awkward; his pants tangled around his legs, his shirt covered his chest and yet Lucien could not be bothered to fix any of it. Now,the mating instinct screamed. Have her now.

Elain pulled the scrap of fabric between him and her to the side and Lucien slid in, hissing at the slickness already pooling between her thighs.

“How long?” He demanded, pressing her back against a wall. Elain squeezed her thighs around his body.

“Forever,” she replied, her eyes closed. “Since Winter at least.”

God, he thought, his eyes rolling in his head. That had been nearly seven months ago. He’d loved her just as long. The knowledge that he could have had her as he was taking her then, up against a wall because he couldn’t stand being parted for the few seconds it would take him to walk back to the bed, was enough to drive him to madness. Lucien thrusted into her as Elain clawed at his hair, tangling her fingers in what was left of his ponytail.

“Should have told me,” Lucien grunted before kissing her with all the pent up, scorched heat he felt. Elain gave him as good as he got, her tongue already in his mouth establishing her dominance. She could have him however she liked.

“Didn’t want to mess everything up,” she gasped, her breath sweet against his face. Lucien’s arms ached from holding her and his cock throbbed, unable to fully bury himself within her.

Lucien snarled even as he pulled out, tossing her to the bed as he kicked himself out of his pants. Elain was fumbling with the buttons of her dress, as though he cared about that. Lucien spread her legs as wide as he could, growling softly with approval at the gleaming wet he found looking back between bright pink lips.

She began to pull the dress up over her head, her hips shimmying as though she meant to escape him. It felt like running and Lucien couldn’t help the way he reached for her, dragging her pussy to his face and burying himself in it before she got away. Mine, you are mine—

Elain squealed, still trying to free herself from the fabric. Lucien had no inclination to help, licking her with desperation. She tasted good,better than he’d imagined, somehow musky and sweet.

“Lucien,” she gasped when his tongue swiped over her clit. She ground against his face like she knew what she was doing, drawing her knees up and pinning him in place. She reached for his hair and pushed, demanding he stay where he was. Lucien’s hips bucked involuntarily, rubbing against the soft fabric of the bed to alleviate some of his arousal.

“Lucien,” she gasped again, her thighs quivering. He withdrew his mouth with a smirk and lifted her legs in the air, holding them against his chest. He rubbed the crown of his cock against her dripping cunt before pulling off his tunic and shirt.

“Close?” He asked, arching a brow. She whined, trying to pull him in. Lucien took himself in his hand and rubbed deliberately, using her own slickness and the head of his penis to rub slow circles around her quivering, swollen clit. She arched her back with trembling breath.

“Yes,” she gasped and Gods how he wanted to watch her fall apart like this.

“Do you want to come?” He asked. She nodded her head, biting her bottom lip. Up, up, up, she keened only for Lucien to withdraw his cock and sheathe himself inside her. He replaced the tip against her clit with his thumb, fucking and he rubbed. She was breathy, eyes open and locked on his face and so damn loud.

There was no mistaking what was happening in his room. He was sure the whole house could hear them, not that Elain seemed to care. Close, he could tell she was close giving how she was rhythmically clenching around him and how she panted through her pretty red lips.

“Lucien,” she whispered, a warning. He wanted it, wanted to knowwhat she felt like when she was lost to ecstasy. He pumped, her wet heat killing him with each stroke. Nothing had ever felt half as good in his life and he didn’t believe anything ever would, again.

She came with a scream, her cunt sucking him deeper, leaving him no breathing room, just his cock and the walls of her pussy he felt stretched over him. She yanked on his arms, pulling him down to kiss her as he continued to thrust, overwhelmed with the sensations. So much was happening; he could still taste her on his mouth, could feel nothing but how incredible it was to be inside her and yet the kissing only heightened that.

He was building, too. His muscles tightened and Lucien let himself go. She swallowed his cry as he pushed as far as he could go, trying to become two souls that shared the same flesh. She dug her nails into his ass, holding him there.

Lucien collapsed carefully, withdrawing himself so he wouldn’t crush her. “Fuck.”

She giggled, nuzzling her head into his chest as he yanked blankets up over their bodies. “That was nice.”

“I love you too, you know,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder.

Lucien smiled.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 294: A Half-Assed Escape

Previously on BnHA: Mirio was all “SURPRISE I’M BACK THANKS TO OUR RESIDENT SEVEN-YEAR-OLD WHO RECENTLY EARNED HER BACHELOR’S OF BEING A TOTAL BADASS.” Kacchan was all, “you know what, Dabi’s been trending long enough, time to remind the fandom what a real G looks like,” and he blasted his little bleeding body back into the fray and was all “FROM HERE ON OUT CALL ME DYNAMIGHT!!” Mirio was all, “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... oh, you’re serious,” and Kacchan was all “!!”, and so that’s the story of how my son got murdered twice in one day. Meanwhile in the Todoroki Drama Zone, Deku was all “STOP MURDERING MY FRIEND” and Dabi was all “THAT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS” and fandom had a whole big debate about Whether Or Not Dabi Trying To Murder Deku’s Friends And Mentors Is Any Of Deku’s Business, which went exactly how you think it went. Anyway, so then Deku yelled at Dabi, and Endeavor was all moved by his manly words and randomly went to go uppercut Machia in the chin. And, seeing as how the Momoserum finally chose that exact moment to kick in, Machia is now down for the count.

Today on BnHA: The Miriosquad handles the Nearly High End Noumus, freeing up Jeanist to jasphyxiate (okay that one doesn’t really work so well) the rest of the League. Compress is all “TIME FOR THIS MILD-MANNERED SIDE CHARACTER VILLAIN TO SHINE”, except that by “shine” what he actually means is “use his quirk to punch a literal hole right through his own ass to free himself.” The rest of the chapter is basically just a back and forth between him and Jeanist, with Jeanist trying to recapture him, and Compress repeatedly thwarting him by chopping more holes out of himself because HE’S FRESH OUT OF FUCKS, AND THE ONES AT THE STORE ARE ALL SOLD OUT, MOTHERFUCKERS. Anyway, so with Compress basically dying and all, Horikoshi is all “you know what that means”, and delivers a freshly-baked villain flashback revealing that Compress is a descendant of Harima Ouji, a.k.a. the Peerless Thief, a.k.a. some famous guy whom Gentle mentioned this one time for like two seconds back in the day. The chapter ends with Compress finally demasking himself and dumping Tomura back onto the ground, a.k.a. The Worst Possible Place For Tomura To Be. ( •﹏•)

WHY IS CRUST HERE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD

-- OH WAIT, SHIT. OH

AIZAWAAAA you’re alive and receiving medical help thank GOD. HOW MANY EYES DO YOU HAVE. AND MIRKO!! HOW MANY LIMBS DO YOU HAVE, OMG

so is this Aizawa dreaming about Crust’s final moments, then?? jesus. with All Due Respect to Crust’s memory, does Aizawa not already have enough misplaced guilt on his conscience as it is?? “nope, we’re gonna keep piling it on. that’s all he is now. three limbs, an indeterminate number of eyes, sexy hair, and Guilt” well shit

motherfucker y’all really out here placing an oxygen mask on Gran Torino’s corpse. fucking shounen characters. each one comes with a lifetime warranty

DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI WHY DO YOU KEEP SHOWING THESE CLOSE-UPS OF HAWKS’S UNCONSCIOUS FACE ALL WHUMPED OUT AND EXHAUSTED. HOW MUCH MORE OF THIS ARE WE GOING TO GET. ARE YOU PLANNING ON KILLING ME WITH THE UPCOMING CONVALESCENCE ARC, BECAUSE IF SO, AT LEAST HAVE THE DECENCY TO TELL ME AHEAD OF TIME SO I CAN MAKE A WILL

for a moment I considered going back and checking my previous recaps to count how many times I’ve already made a joke about Dabi’s fire incinerating Hawks’s wings but not touching so much as a hair on his five o’clock shadow, so that I could calculate whether or not I could possibly get away with making that same joke one more time. but then I realized I could just do it in this kind of roundabout way I’m doing right now instead. so there you have it

FFFFFFFMT LADY AND MIDNIGHT NOOOOO

PLEASE BE ALIVE. PLEASE RESPECT THE SIGN ON THE FRONT OF THE BUILDING. THE ONE THAT SAYS “NO LADY CHARACTERS ALLOWED TO DIE”, WITH THE FINE PRINT AT THE BOTTOM “AT LEAST NOT UNTIL HORIKOSHI GIVES US LIKE TWENTY-SIX MORE OF THEM FIRST IF THAT’S THE WAY HE WANTS TO PLAY IT.” IT’S A GOOD SIGN, PLEASE RESPECT ITS WISHES!!

so anyway though, Jeanist is giving a speech about how god knows how many people all worked together to bring Machia down. and now RHA is getting in on those fabric puns too, I see. “A SINGLE STRAND MAY BE THIN BUT TOGETHER THEY FORM A STRONG ROPE” oh so you think you guys are funny eh? I’m a frayed knot

MEANWHILE EXCUSE ME BUT WHY ARE YOU FUCKING CRYING BLOOD, HOLY SHIT

fffffff. so much for him taking over as the Number One once all this is over. so let’s just recap real quick, because Horikoshi has long since made it clear that one of his plot goals for this arc is to wipe out every single member of the Billboard Top Ten. so how we doin?

Endeavor - was just figuratively eviscerated in front of the entire nation by his homicidal zombiepunk son. also burnt half to death and possibly down a lung. will almost certainly be forced to retire after this one way or the other

Hawks - lying prettily in a medical tent. wings status: gone. hair status: still perfect

Jeanist - WELL I THOUGHT HE WAS FINE BUT APPARENTLY HE’S OUT HERE DYING, JESUS CHRIST

Edgeshot - MIA, last seen fighting Re-Destro. I really want him to have kicked RD’s ass because fuck that guy, but realistically they probably fought to a draw at best

Mirko - alive but in critical condition and missing something like 1.5 limbs

Crust - dead, currently haunting Aizawa’s traumatized dreams. now he’s gonna be triggered the rest of his life by people giving him the thumbs up, THANKS A LOT

Kamui Woods - was set on fire which is His Weakness. thoughts and prayers

Wash - last seen floating hospital patients to safety as Tomura’s wave of decay descended towards him. probably dead ffff

Old Man Samurai - haven’t seen this fucker in a hot minute, who even knows where he’s wandered off to

Ryuukyuu - currently being treated for her wounds, looked pretty bad off. but it’s hard to tell how hurt she is since most of the injuries were acquired in her transformed state. SHE BETTER GET WELL SOON

anyways, so yeah. so much for the top ten. guess that’s another reason Horikoshi brought Mirio back now, huh

so there’s a big panel of everyone fighting the Noumu while Machia lies there all “blurgh.” good riddance my dude. it took like twenty chapters and a hundred people to stop this guy so I really fucking hope he stays down. you’ve had your fun

anyway so Jeanist is sending another steel thread towards Dabi! and he’s all “just a bit more!!” fklklj this is gonna go real well isn’t it

meanwhile Mirio’s fighting a Nearly High End with all of these weird rock formations jutting out of its skin. go on and kick his ass then, Mirio

“each of these guys is probably just as strong as the Noumu from Kyuushuu” hold on I thought Ujiko or Tomura or someone said that wasn’t the case? not that Mirio would know I suppose. anyways let’s just hope he’s wrong cuz if not these kids are probably screwed

kLSDKFHLSKHGLKLK OH MY GODDDD

IIDA FUCKING TENYA YOU’RE A PEACH. THINKS THE NAME IS OUTRAGEOUS, CHECK. USES IT ANYWAY, CHECK. “JUST BECAUSE I DON’T UNDERSTAND DOESN’T MEAN I CAN’T BE SUPPORTIVE.” WHAT A CLASS ACT

AND KACCHAN IS RESPONDING WITH AS MUCH DIGNITY AS HE CAN MUSTER

WOW, SON. IT’S ALMOST AS THOUGH YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, OR SOMETHING!! although listen up, real talk, the fact that Kacchan of all people can’t muster the energy to yell at someone questioning his ability to kick ass is HIGHKEY troubling and we may be in need of an intervention here soon :/

now Jeanist is finally turning his attention to the League! was... was it not already on the League. omg

ACTUAL SCREAMING AHHHHHH FUCK FUCKLK LK AHHLKHKFFFF

hey so um. what the actual fucked up hell. my soul left my body. imagine if you saw the reflection of this panel on your bedroom window. you would never sleep again

OKAY RHA TRANSLATORS ARE YOU HAVING YOURSELF A LAUGH AGAIN

THIS CANNOT BE WHAT HE’S ACTUALLY SAYING RIGHT. BUT IT’S RIGHT IN THAT UNCANNY VALLEY OF NOT BEING QUITE SURE, THOUGH... (　ﾟдﾟ)

(ETA: just a next-day clarification here, apparently my sleep-deprived ADHD word-skipping brain completely skipped right over the “a” in that last panel, so what I read was, “and Shigaraki’s limp noodle.” so yeah, the moral of this story is always read the speech bubble carefully before you start making running jokes throughout the rest of your post, folks.)

oh wow he’s really freaking out lmao

to be fair though, I’d argue that Dabi has gotten pre-tty close at this point :’) thrilled for him, really I am

but anyway, well then figure something out you big dramatic robot-armed fiend. didn’t you just say you could touch your own ass? can you not just Compress yourself to break free?? does it not work on you? or would you be stuck afterwards lol

(ETA: I was picturing him compressing his entire body at once, not just chunks of it. ghhhlkh.)

um

holy shit Jeanist. are you stupidly trying to cut off their air, or are you going for more of a sleeper hold (jleeper hold??) thing instead. the latter would be way smarter and faster and probably safer as well just saying

but unless Spinner is just being super dramatic, it sure looks like he’s fucking strangling them djslkjlk. this will certainly cement his popularity among the villain stans. good thing you’re not running for office any time soon bud

anyway so I have no idea what these guys are trying to do now. what is this

do you even have till the count of 5 at this rate. I mean

OH MY GOODNESS

HE’S REALLY FUCKING DOING IT!! HE’S COMPRESSING HIS BUTT!! OMFG. TOMURA HIDE YOUR NOODLE!!!

WHAT THE FUCK

DID YOU COMPRESS A PIECE OF YOUR OWN ASS. FUCKING WHAT. PUT THIS MAN’S PICTURE IN THE DICTIONARY NEXT TO THE WORD “LOYALTY”, HOLY CRAP

HOLY SHIT COMPRESS

“HOLY SHIT DID THAT GUY JUST PUNCH A HOLE THROUGH HIS OWN ASS IN ORDER TO SAVE HIS VILLAIN PALS. FUCK IT, HE DESERVES TO ESCAPE”

jeez, talk about... A HALF-ASSED ESCAPE ATTEMPT :D :D :D hahaha. but real talk though, Horikoshi has clearly never tried to leap twelve feet straight up in the air multiple times in succession with only half his glutes though. everyone, I regret to inform you that this panel right here on the left may be slightly unrealistic

also where the hell is he going to go?? did you pack a jetpack away in one of those little marbles sir. and what about Dabi?? and Skeptic too, I guess, but we don’t really care about Skeptic

(ETA: at this point I had to stop reading for about two hours because I had to go out and take care of something; that’s also why this is being posted later than usual lol. anyways so where were we.)

oh my lord

the existence of a translator’s note here implies that the earlier line about Compress being able to reach Tomura’s junk was not, in fact, ad-libbed. hmm. hmmmmmmmm

anyway so now he’s grabbing Compress again because OF COURSE HE IS, so now we’re right back to square one! except now Tomura and Spinner are secured inside of little marbles, and presumably Compress is the only one who can release them

oh nevermind he’s just maiming himself again instead, SHEESH

Skeptic a man is dying please have some goddamn respect

so, uh. is he gonna die, though??

I really can’t tell wtf is going on here, this is the most confusing the art has been in a while. Horikoshi put all of his spoons into that creepyass close-up panel earlier, that bastard

OMG WHAT ARE YOU SERIOUS

DON’T FUCKING TELL ME THE “COMPRESS IS RELATED TO THIS THIEF GUY FROM OLDEN TIMES” THEORY IS ACTUALLY TRUE WHAAAAAAT. OH SHIT

so apparently Harima was a Robin Hood type guy who stole from... heroes?? wtf. are heroes the 1% in this scenario. y’all didn’t have any Fortune 500 CEOs to steal from?

THAT’S THE BLOOD THAT FLOWS THROUGH YOU, OH SHIT. and in a related oh shit, the fact that we are getting a Compress flashback now of all times doesn’t bode super well for him. ffff

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKIS ARE STILL TODOROKI-ING

listen here boy if you touch one freaking hair on Shouto’s candy cane head I swear to god --

WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY!!!

SHOUTO NOOOOOO. WTF YOU’RE LITERALLY THE ONE GUY WHOSE WEAKNESS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FIRE. DABI YOU SHIT, YOU BETTER WATCH YOURSELF!! I’M PRINTING OUT A COPY OF THAT COMPRESS PANEL!!! KEEP AN EYE OUT ON THAT BEDROOM WINDOW YOU PUNK!!!

SO NOW POOR SHOUTO IS UNCONSCIOUS AND FALLING!! SOMEONE SAVE HIM!! WHO CATCHES THE CATCHER

COMPRESS LITERALLY HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE RIGHT NOW, WHAT IS HAPPENING

PLEASE DON’T CALL TOMURA LEADER OF THE “PLF” YOU KNOW I CAN’T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY WHEN YOU DO THAT. ARE YOU DYING. ARE YOU JUST A FUCKING HEAD NOW WTF

(ETA: “masks are removable, makeste” you know what it’s been a long day okay lmao. or I suppose Compress is really the one who is lmao.)

GASPPPPPP

okay. okay. looooool okay then

WHY WERE YOU COVERING THIS SEXY MOP OF HAIR UNDER THAT HOOD YOU TOOL. IT WOULD HAVE LOOKED SO GOOD WITH THE TOP HAT. I’M SO MAD AT YOU RIGHT NOW

as if it wasn’t enough for him to demask himself, he also had to get all shirtless and then do this weird attempt at a sexypose too huh

hard to say exactly how much of his torso is currently missing, but safe to say that’s proooooooobably not good. :///// fuck

on the other hand, Kacchan also has a torso hole and he’s still flying around like he just drank a dozen red bulls, so

this man lost his ass and he’s still out here monologuing like it’s the last two minutes of The Prestige. one might say he is monologuing his ass off

so he let Spinner and Tomura free, but is Dabi still trapped in his marble?? wasn’t he all on fire and stuff?? hopefully he can still turn off his quirk in there because if not that’s a pretty fucked up way to die. somewhere out there Snatch’s ghost is all “YEAH I’LL SAY.” oh how the turntables

last but not least, sooooooo. Tomura. back on the ground. that’s. um. ...shiiiiiiiit