#i hope wednesday is treating u well sweetpea

[inkykeiji]

yeah someone having the audacity to call reader but imagine reader having the damn audacity to tell touya-nii "dont answer it!!"

jeeeez anon do u have a death wish!? he’s gonna fuck you all the way into next year if you attempt to insist on such a thing! first of all, he’s growling in your ear, words so caustic his breath burns your skin, you’re in no position to be making demands of him. secondly, who the fuck do you think you are, trying to tell him what to do!? he’s the boss here, never forget that! 

such an order, entirely uncalled for and beyond disrespectful, makes his vision bleed crimson with fury. not only is he pissed off at you for trying to control him, but he’s also extremely upset over the fact that you don’t want him to answer it. it sends his entire mind into overdrive, even as he’s buried balls deep in you—why would you ever not want him to answer and tell whoever’s on the other line to fuck off? who is it? what are you hiding from him? are you embarrassed by him? endless threads of questions tangle into an incomprehensible ball in his mind, his ears ringing with terror and confusion, and oh, he's going to make sure whoever this fucker you don’t want him speaking to knows exactly what you’re doing, and exactly who’s doing it to you.

hips pausing for a moment and pressed flush to your ass, he uses one large palm to keep your face buried in the mattress, hand cupping the crown of your head, fingers splayed out and digging into the sides of your scalp, while his other hand answers the phone. but he doesn’t say anything, merely placing the device right next to your mouth, his motions so swift and smooth your fucked-out mind can barely comprehend what’s happening before he’s ramming into you again, rough and ruthless, quite literally pounding the most vulgar sounds from your chest. they pour from your mouth, thick and sticky with spit, slathered across your phone screen.

and don’t you dare try to snatch your phone up to end the call—he’s got lithe fingers curling around your wrists in an instant, shackling them together in one hand, squeezing them so tight your bones grind and your veins tingle, starved of blood, and pulling your arms taut behind your back, using them as leverage to pull you toward his plunging hips. he’s going to force you to moan and sob and mewl for whoever it is on the other line that you ‘didn’t want him to answer’, and then he’s going to have you return their call, unexpected and unassuming and entirely abruptly sometime in the near future, and force them to listen to you get fucked raw and dumb again. in fact, he might even call them back several times with the same little stunt, just to drive the message home and make sure you truly understand. and then, maybe you’ll think twice about trying to tell him what to do, and they’ll think twice about trying to call you (or answering your returning calls at all).

[inkykeiji]

I’ve always wondered at what moment did touya-nii realize he was in love with the reader? Like was it during argument? Doing something domestic together like making dinner or watching a movie? Or during a rare silly moment?

this is a very interesting (and complicated) question!!

tw: pseudo-incest, stepcest | words: 515

it wasn’t all at once. it wasn’t after some profound incident, hitting him with the force of a freight train the way hollywood told him it would, nor was it after a mundane moment shared between the two of them, sweet and soft and unbearably sugary as if it was lifted from the pages of an infamous romance novel.

it was slow, a creeping fog that unhurriedly worked its way to crawl over and cloak his body; until it was clinging to him like a second skin, until it was invading his nose and mouth and slithering down his throat, choking him from the inside out, until it was filling his chest with unfamiliarity, with warmth and flutters and pins and needles, lungs swelling, suffocating, more and more and more until he was sure it was going to burst, until there was too much, until he couldn’t draw in a single breath without some of it rising up and spilling out his mouth.

and it wasn’t delicate, either. it wasn’t light or lofty or lovely. it was terrifying—an unidentified force that he had no control over, that he had lost autonomy to long ago, the moment it began to embrace his body in its dense mist, an unknowable, unfathomable, unsympathetic entity that had efficiently stripped him of his authority in torment and torture.

he had tried to reject it, but it only got stronger, it only grew larger, it only hurt longer.

he had tried to scrub it from his body with coarse cloths and scalding water until his skin was red and raw, bruised and bloody—but it had already seeped into his flesh to marinate in his bones, to infest his bloodstream, to stuff, infect, saturate every living cell with the essence of her.

he had tried to escape it, to push it from his brain, to extract it from the tissues and never think of it again, but it imprinted itself into the nerves and synapses—that private grin she sends his way when their gazes catch in the presence of their parents; that precious giggle he can always manage to pull from her throat regardless of how awful she’s feeling; that pretty gleam that brightens her eyes the moment they meet his own, a sparkle he’s sure is just for him—all branded into the flesh of his brain, irrevocably sown into the fabric of his memory and plastered to the walls of his skull.

and, he comes to realize, there’s not a fucking thing he can do about it.

finally, he accepts it, the day she runs off, the day she proves her autonomy and breaks his own, heavy defeat crushing his lungs and failure bittering his tongue. he loathes the power it holds over him, despises the weakness it instills in him, but he loves her more than the fear and the anguish and the vulnerability, so he endures, he perseveres. because as cheesy as it sounds, as hollywood and romance novel cliche as it is, she’s worth it, and he’ll be damned if he loses her again.

author note: as you can see, the answer to this question is a complex one. he doesn’t really realize it until after her little stunt with tomura, because up until then he’s resisting it, he’s trying to forget it or convince himself it isn’t there, to rid himself of it even as it envelopes him more and more and poisons him oh-so-sweetly <3  

[inkykeiji]

clari i think My Baby by Nicole Dollanganger has such touya-nii vibes!

YES ANON ABSOLUTELY 100%!!!!!!! i actually had an anon last year (around this time too!! like february) who sent me a bunch of recs for nicole and i listened to them and just bawled my fucking eyes out. she’s an absolutely incredible lyricist and extremely talented and it’s such a compliment when someone says my work reminds them of her music. i didn’t know who she was until that anon, but it turns out she was actually raised not too far from where i was!!! which makes a LOT of sense, because her music is literally imbued with the small town horror and absolute unsettling bleakness farmland ontario is