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#if i end up working on both simultaneously it's just gonna slow them both down
ohforficsakelibrary · 9 months
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Barbados
Summary: You've been carrying on with whatever this is for months, pushing and pulling, until one night Frankie wants control.
masterlist
Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader
Word Count: ~2.2K
Rating: Explicit 18+ for smut/ Unprotected piv, edging, multiple orgasms (f), creampie, a hint of dom!Frankie, a dash of brat-tamer!Frankie, still a Consent King, a pinch of blasphemy, y'all are gonna get a noise complaint / Minors DNI
A/N: As with Dominica, this is written about these two idiots, but flipped to the reader's perspective. Can be read as a standalone, only a few tiny, non-critical nods to the series.
Happy Frankie Friday to all those who celebrate.
Eight months into whatever this is, Frankie pulls noises from your throat that you’ve never made in your life.
And to think, you had fought him on it.
You’d been working each other up all evening, spiking heated glances over the dinner table as you listened to Pope go on about something. 
Can’t remember what. 
You’d both unceremoniously deposited Santi in his room next door, each smacking your key cards against the reader so quickly that it took three tries to unlock as Frankie groaned into your mouth and you pawed at his belt. This room was one of yours.
Can’t remember whose. 
It doesn’t matter, one key eventually worked. 
In your haste to have each other after a month apart you’d skipped his mouth, and his fingers, and everything you would have demanded if you’d had more sense.
Sense. The thing he simultaneously robs you of and delivers in spades to every starving nerve ending.
The two of you hadn’t even made it to the bed. 
Frankie’s behind you on the couch, your upper body draped over the armrest as he works his way inside you.
“Mmfh, hold on, wait, wait, wait,” your hand finds his where it’s wrapped around your hip and immediately he stills as you hiss through clenched teeth.
“Shit. Baby, talk to me.”
“Just. A little sharp.”
“No, I should have…” he makes a move to pull out completely.
Your hand flies back to his hip, “Francisco Morales, don’t you dare.”
“Baby, just let me taste you,” he barely has the tip of his cock inside you now as he cranes to drop kisses along your spine, “get you all warm and ready for me. ”
“I’m fucking ready for you now.”
Stubborn as a moose is not the saying, but Frankie reckons it should be.
“Baby, please, I’m not doing this if it hurts.” 
He’s mad at himself, more than anything. Frankie doesn’t fuck around with this. He knows what he is. 
He’s normally so methodical. He has his procedures. His checklist. You blew right through it and in his haze of want—he let you.
You’re doing it even now as your nails bite into his hip when he makes a move to pull away.
“Baby…” he urges again.
“No.”
Talons of irritation tug at the back of his scalp.
And he gives in to them.
“You know what, fine,” he growls, hands leaving you completely as something shifts, “you do it then.”
You move to bring one of his warm palms back to your skin but he snatches it away.
“No. That’s all you. You wanna take me? Take me. Go ahead.”
Oh. 
A Frankie Mood.
He hasn’t had you in a month and already they’ve returned with a vengeance. 
You throw him a look over your shoulder, half expecting to see his arms crossed over his chest. One hand’s braced on the back of the sofa, and you can feel the heat from the other where it hovers over your hip. 
His bottom lip is trapped between teeth.
Okay, Frankie.
You prop yourself up off the arm of the sofa with one hand, reaching down with the other to guide the tip of his cock against your entrance, gently shifting your hips and rocking back onto his hard length at your own pace, moaning as you do. 
A pace you’ve slowed way down for his torture benefit.
It smarts a little less and you take a little more.
But this stopped being about that a few inches ago.
You can hear Frankie sucking sharp breaths in through his nose. The back of the sofa creaks with the white-knuckled pressure he’s subjecting it to. 
While his words are bold, his body’s barely held together.
But he’s composed enough not to give you the satisfaction of the moan that’s bursting at the back of his throat.
“God, Frankie,” you breathe when the curve of your ass meets his stomach.
He barks a dark laugh.
“Oh, I thought you could take this whole thing,” he leans to cover you with his body, nose skimming the shell of your ear.
“I’ve still got two more inches here for you, babe,” he continues to taunt just before he bites down on your earlobe, soothing it with his tongue.
“What are you gonna do about that?”
You have half a mind to flip him off of this couch and onto the floor.
Instead you drop your chest back down to the arm of the sofa, tip your hips forward, and squeeze around him.
It makes him give you the last two himself.
It hadn’t taken long for you to discover how to short his brain and send his hips slamming into yours in search of more.
“Ohh, you little…” he’s growling but you can feel the smile against your ear. 
He loves this.
The push and pull.
You guide his hand to your clit, where he immediately starts rubbing slow circles with his middle and ring fingers.
He’s gonna drag this out.
You tip your face to meet his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip before he gives you his tongue. 
“You okay?” He whispers softly when you break for air.
“Yeah, baby.” 
Frankie drops a kiss in your hair before he bucks his hips against you without pulling out.
“Fuck,” you gasp.
“Mmmm,” he rumbles, sitting up and holding your hips with both hands. He gives you a few tentative strokes, slowly, palms mapping the contours of your back until you take it upon yourself to push against him. 
“You’re so fuckin’ impatient, aren’t you,” his hips don’t falter from their lazy pace as one hand grabs the back of your neck. “So fucking greedy for me. For this cock.”
You clench down around him to make your point, smiling when he groans, his hips stuttering.
“You know what?” He brings his face to your ear, “let me have it, baby.”
Control. 
Let him have control.
He can’t see the way you arch an eyebrow in challenge, but he knows it’s there on your face.
“Fine,” you whisper and cant your hips back against him. 
“Need a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ gatita.”
“Yes. Frankie.” It’s sour in your mouth as you say it. But you trust him. Trust that he’ll take care of you. That he’ll work you up and over and through until “yes Frankie” is all that you can scream.
You trust that he’ll take you past the point of words.
And so “yes Frankie” it is.
He rewards you by picking his pace up to something you luxuriate in, humming with approval as warmth builds low in your belly. You instinctively reach down between your legs and Frankie immediately pulls your hand away.
“That’s mine,” he growls, “and I’m not ready for it yet.”
You bury your face into the armrest and moan in petulant protest.
The hand on the back of your neck soothes, rubbing down over your shoulder blades. He follows the motion with his mouth and you arch up into him. 
You can feel his eyes on you, reading your body in the absence of your face. He slows his pace when your breath goes shallow and waits for it to deepen again before building you back up. 
When your fingers dig into the armrest, he nearly stops, holding you in place by the hips, grinding his pelvis against you. He leans forward to drop kisses at the base of your neck and scrapes the scruff on his chin down your spine, the prickle of it giving you another sensation to latch on to. After a few moments, he skates a massive palm over your skin to wipe the feeling away, hooking it over your shoulder and yanking you backwards faster against him.
The next time he pulls you back from the brink it’s with a hand in your hair and teeth in the curve of your shoulder.
He unwinds you like rope, pulling at each cord, twisting until it frays, until all that’s left is you pleading and panting in front of him.
By the fourth time you’re telling him to go fuck himself, and he’s purring in your ear that no you feel much better between thrusts that drag the crown of his cock over every spot inside you with the capacity to light you up, he’s just doing it too slowly to cause a spark.
“Frankie, I swear to God…” 
“You can swear all you want, gatita, God isn’t here. Just me.”
And oh but He is, in the searing palms that hold you firm, the thick, clever fingers that finally slip down to where he fills you to rub tight circles against where he knows you need him most. 
In the way your ears ring when he speeds his hips and his hands up—and finally allows you to break. 
A gasp, a captured breath, and a cry when you exhale again.
Except now, he doesn’t stop.
“Frankie, fuck, Frankie, Frankie, Fr…Fran…FranKIE,” discretion abandoned in favor of open-mouthed pleasure. His pace is brutal and you don’t care who knows that he handles you with a pilot’s precision, one hand encouraging the arch in your back, pulling where it’s wound in your hair, fingers of the other working faster over your clit.
You’re keening as you claw at fabric and bury your face in the armrest, Frankie never letting up as your walls clamp down around him again. 
He grits his teeth through your torture, grunting as he continues. 
He continues until you’re laughing deliriously. 
Until you’re growling.
Whining.
Sobbing.
Jesus, Catfish. Don’t kill her. Frankie’s phone buzzes with a text from Santiago. 
Neither of you notice.
You’ve angled your hips to take all of him, hair in your face, death-grip on the armrest because it’s the only thing keeping you here.
He cracks you one last time, has you crying and moaning and screaming for him in the seconds before he holds you fast, deafening you with the guttural scream that rips from his chest as he pumps you full of him, stuttering hips fucking hot spend into you as desperate cries escape his throat.
His teeth sink into your shoulder and his weight becomes yours to bear when he finally quiets and collapses, sucking open-mouthed kisses into your sweat-damp neck between gasps for air.
You stay a moment like this.
Feeling his lungs fill at your back. 
Feeling his heart hammer against your spine.
He finds himself enough to take his weight, but your hand grips his hair before he can move much further.
“The couch,” you pant a warning and he catches your logic in his hormone-addled brain, wrapping an arm around your waist and rolling you with him down to the hardwood floor.
His body breaks your fall.
Broad palms roam your stomach, up over your breasts and down again, hot, ragged breath rasping over the shell of your ear and catching in your curls.
He guides your hips up enough to allow him to pull out with a groan before he encourages you over, one hand immediately flying to the base of your skull to bring your mouth to his. 
You can feel the warm rush of him between your thighs.
“Was that okay?” He sighs against your lips.
“More than, baby.”
“I missed you.”
And you hum with a smile, raking damp hair out of his face.
You missed him too.
Both of your phones clatter repeatedly against coffee table glass and it finally spurs Frankie to his feet.
You both still alive?
You need electrolytes?
Fish, rub some sugar on her gums.
You read the group texts aloud from your back on the floor and Frankie laughs, returning with a warm washcloth and your underwear.
All good, Santi. So good.
Frankie sits on the couch and kisses your stomach as you stand and shimmy your panties up your legs. He pulls you to curl against him where he can still trail his nose over your sweat-slick neck.
How do I know Fish didn’t take your phone? Proof of life.
It’s tossed offhandedly with a smile. He doesn’t expect his screen to light up with a photo from Fish.
The look on your face in the photo is apologetic, one hand raking the hair out of your eyes, the other holding your phone with the screen lit to display the date and time. Frankie is behind you with his nose pressed into your hair and a Cheshire cat grin playing on his lips.
God, on the COUCH?
Sorry, not sorry, Pope. Is his answer.
Santi offers only the eye-roll emoji in response. 
_____
Fifteen minutes later, when you’re both showered and in bed, Frankie’s head resting on your stomach and your hand gently raking through his freshly washed hair, your phone fills the room with blue light.
From Santiago to you alone.
You’re better for him than you know.
The truth is, he hasn’t seen the man smile like that since his daughter was born. 
I can’t save him, Pope.
No. But you can make him feel.
And you understand exactly what he means because someone once did the same for you.
You stretch and Fish moves, rolling you onto your side where he can fit against your back, solid arm locked around your waist, breath brushing peacefully against your neck. 
Yeah. 
You can make him feel.
And sometimes that’s enough.
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cerise-on-top · 10 months
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i am here humbly begging for more cod tickle fight posts pretty please i am soooo thirsty
Yeah, sure. Sorry this took so long, I planned something even longer, making a scenario for each character being on the receiving end, but that likely would have been over 8.000 words in total, so I scrapped the idea. All of these together are already at almost 3.000 words. Still have the prompts, though. Anyway, thanks for the request, I appreciate you sending something in. These are essentially a bunch of characters and or reader teaming up on each other. First three reader is on the receiving end, but then I wanted to spice it up a little and have some characters be on the receiving end. No Valeria since I had no idea who to team her up with.
Team-Up Tickles
Price/Ghost: You’d really need to get on their nerves if you end up the victim of the both of them. Sure, it can be done, just rack up the bad points with innocent things that won’t harm anyone. Put Price’s cigars where he can’t find them immediately or place a little frog in his hat, draw a heart on Ghost’s mask with red sharpie or throw a few grapes at him. As long as they know it was you every time they’re gonna get fed up eventually. It doesn’t warrant any serious punishment, and if they know all you want is just to play around a bit they’ll be even more likely to just gang up on you. They’ll calmly confront you about it, even if there is a certain air of mischief surrounding them, and do just about anything to make you back up into a corner. The more helpless you feel, the more you realize you messed up, the better. Price will grab your wrists with one hand and hold them so you won’t escape. Ghost starts off slow if he knows he can take his sweet time with you, figuring out where he can elicit which reaction in what way. Every once in a while he’ll simply stop, though, giving you a small break before picking up where he left off. I advise you to not kick, he’ll simply grab your leg and keep going there. Eventually, Price grows just the tiniest bit impatient and joins in. The sooner he can get you to fall to the floor or wrestle you down, the better because you won’t be able to fight back. A bit rougher than Ghost, he wants to make you scream so you might learn your lesson. This time, if you’re a real squirmer or kicker, Ghost will hold you down so you won’t escape. If Price straddles your hips, Ghost will hold up your arms, those two work well together. Once you’re completely tuckered out they’ll stop, leaving you a giggling, breathless mess. However, they’re not monsters, if they think they went completely overboard by accident they’ll stay with you until you’ve recovered a bit, scolding you for being so annoying and how you really shouldn’t put frogs in Price’s hat.
Gaz/Soap: In their case they probably simply felt like doing it, so they did. Since they had a tickle fight with each other beforehand they thought it would be a lovely idea to get you in on it as well. It all starts with them scouting the area for you. Once they found you, they’ll lure you somewhere you won’t be able to escape, preferably a soft surface like a couch or a bed so you won’t hurt yourself. Last step is for one to distract you while the other surprises you. Even if either of them gets elbowed, it’s absolutely worth it just to hear your laugh ring out. If they’re not both having the time of their lives simultaneously, then they take turns holding you down and tickling you. Anywhere they can reach is fair game. It’s not too hard to figure out which one is the dominant tickler either, both of them have their own style: Soap barely lingers on one spot for too long, he’s fairly rough and quick and never shuts up while he’s at it, always teasing you one way or another. It may seem almost frantic, but there’s actually quite a bit of calculation behind it. Gaz is more gentle, and lingers longer on the spots he deems to be your worst ones before showing a bit of mercy. He plays the long game and wants to tire you out more slowly so the fun lasts a bit longer. Not as teasy, but he does ask you plenty of questions he genuinely expects you to answer in your state. Both of them have a good time and if they aren’t out for your laughter by verbally teasing you, they’ll talk as if nothing at all is happening. Gaz and Soap are close enough with each other that they barely need to speak to each other out loud in order to know what the other is about to do. You’re just the cutest little thing to them, so naturally they’re gonna make sure you’re okay afterwards. Whoever you pushed away the least that time gets to hold you, the other one grabs you a glass of water to make sure your voice doesn’t falter completely. They’re gonna rib you a bit afterwards as you catch your breath, but if someone else gets too close to you when you’re that tired they’ll have to deal with two SAS soldiers ready to throw hands. Yes, they’re extremely protective of you in that state.
Alejandro/Rodolfo: You likely asked Alejandro to train you a bit so your chances of surviving an encounter would go up. That he does, he’s a good teacher when it comes to things like that, except you’d want to keep going when it’s obvious you’ve reached your limit and are beyond tired. Sluggish movements and delayed reaction times leave you almost entirely defenseless, but still you insist in order to make him proud and show him just how capable you are. Alejandro will give you two chances to stop for the evening, after that he’ll simply pin you down or against the wall and start having his way. He makes sure not to hurt you, his grasp on you is gentle enough to not bruise, but firm enough to make sure you can’t get away either. After some time, if you still haven’t given up yet, he’ll call Rudy over to help him. It’s an order, so there isn’t much he can do about it. As you’re still spilling some residual giggles, Alejandro will give you a small break, letting Rudy take the wheel for a moment as he still holds you down. Rudy will gently graze your skin, fluttering his fingers here and there. It’s not enough to make you laugh, far from it, but it makes you just a bit more aware of your situation. It’s fun to him, feeling you suck in your stomach or have it quiver under his fingertips, for example. Once given the order, he’ll be a bit more rough on you, even though rough is still a bit relative. He’s not fast either, he’s still gentle. Alejandro, if he’s in the right position, will claw at your stomach as he nuzzles into your neck. It’s not his goal to make you scream, but as long as you’re still audacious enough to fight him he won’t relent. Only when you finally give in and stop for the night will the tickling cease. Rudy will chuckle a bit, seeing those tears in your eyes as you barely even remember where you are, asking you if you need anything. Alejandro pulls you towards him, rubbing your back and making sure you won’t topple over again. If you’re on the verge of falling asleep then and there, they’ll carry you to bed as well. Ask either of them to stay the night and cuddle you, there’s no way they’re gonna say no.
Graves/Shadows: Due to Graves being rather affectionate with his Shadows as well as being a competent leader, it’s no surprise that his subordinates trust him a great amount. Yes, he can be serious when the time calls for it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t ever goof around. The Shadows love him, so they’re usually more than willing to team up with each other and you to surprise the commander. It takes a single brave person, ready to try and best him after he decided to work himself to the bone again, to cause an avalanche of playful Shadows to go after him. Graves can hold his own against them normally, but when he’s clearly outnumbered even he can’t do much. Cast the first stone, someone else will follow. Spider your fingers along his back, when he turns someone else will take your place. Despite rolling around, squirming, kicking, he likely won’t tell you to stop as it’s a nice team building activity, stupid as it may be. If you get him to lie on his stomach and scribble along his thighs he can muster up the strength to throw someone off of him just once. It may seem like aimless flailing to most, but he doesn’t squeeze his eyes shut, he needs to know which Shadows he needs to get revenge on. No matter how much you tire him out, he won’t forget a face. Since Shadow Company has quite a few people working for it there’s gonna be a huge discrepancy between their different styles, but what works best on Graves is being rough on his upper body while being fairly gentle on his lower body. It takes at least two to three people to make sure he won’t escape since, once he knows the attackers are coming, it’s way harder to actually get him to go down. Once he goes silent that’s usually your cue to stop, anything else he won’t take as kindly to. While it may not be too uncommon for him to be targeted, depending on the intensity of the fun it might take him a bit longer to recover. As I’ve said before, stay with him and make sure he’s okay, you’re doomed either way so you might as well make sure he recovers well. He’ll be a bit more gentle when he gets his revenge. Besides, there are a few Shadows who genuinely want that sort of attention from their commander, Graves knows that. He’s fond of them, so he’s not at all against indulging them every once in a while.
Alex/Farah: In this scenario we’re going to assume you and Farah wanted to show Alex some affection, thus deciding to sandwich him in a hug. That was really just the cover up to your plan of him having given you a tickle hug one too many times, resulting in you both itching to get your fingers on him. Naturally, Alex won’t say no to a hug from his favorite people, he welcomes it, in fact. You let him have that moment for a few seconds before you strike. One of you shoves their hands in his armpits, the other one goes for his sides. When he topples over whoever stands behind him gets to catch and hold him. It’s a spot he’s going to defend with his life, but brush your fingers against his neck or flutter them against the skin there, he’ll pull up his shoulder immediately to get you to go away. Alex can take quite a lot, but that doesn’t mean his reaction isn’t to try and shove you away. His giggles are sweet, almost a bit quiet, even his laugh isn’t too loud. Some curses here and there, sure, but he doesn’t mean any of them. While he may have some of his reactions under control, he’ll try to get away from the both of you but won’t start hitting you, opting for grabbing your hands instead. If that doesn’t work, he’ll make attempts to curl up. Realistically speaking, he knows there’s no danger since it’s just you and Farah, people he trusts, but he can’t help it, it tickles just far too much. Aware of his past crimes, he’s willing to atone, letting you have your fun for quite a while. But he will tell you to stop once he’s hit his limit. Doesn’t hate tickling and being tickled by any means, but it’s exhausting when you’re on the receiving end. Definitely doesn’t mind some affection afterwards, even if it’s just in the form of teasing him regarding how cute he is. When you listen to him and his residual giggles, you can watch his gaze drift between you and Farah with adoration and admiration in his eyes. He’s aware of his strength, he knows that it’s not easy at all to take him down, meaning it takes a lot of trust for him to allow himself to be in a position like that. But it’s fun and games, he’s not gonna stop either, so it’s only fair.
Laswell/Nikolai: You probably got fed up with Nikolai barely, if at all, reacting to you trying to get back at him. He is ticklish, that much I can tell you, he just doesn’t show it. Only when you’re playfully complaining to him about it with Laswell overhearing does the situation brighten for you. As someone who works for the CIA, Laswell has dirt on just about any person, including Nikolai. Besides, they’ve been friends for a long time too, which made her one of the most qualified people to tell you that Nikolai can be weak to tickles, if done correctly. Beating around the bush, Nikolai neither confirms nor denies this, but promises you that he’ll hold still and let you try, under the premise he gets to do the same later. He’s confident you won’t be able to get him to laugh. Ever the keeper of his word, you try. Laswell watches as you fail time and time again to even get him to flinch. With a sigh, she shows you the ropes, telling you what to do in order to accomplish your goal. Advice is given, instructions are told as though you’re taking apart a weapon and cleaning it for the first time. In this case, you’re merely told to lightly scratch under his chin. Despite expecting it, Nikolai shudders regardless. It’s a pleasant sensation, but it takes everything in him to not flinch. Next up is the side of his neck, and lastly, his cheeks. A smile has made its way onto his lips, even during the first spot, but you couldn’t tell whether it was out of pity or mockery. Gently grazing his skin, you weren’t even sure if you were touching it in the first place, seemed to work. A few giggles spilt here and there, but he never bothered to grab your hand or push you away. According to Laswell, as well as Nikolai, that was likely everything you were gonna get out of him using your hands only. If you desired a stronger outcome you’d need something along the lines of a feather or a make-up brush. As it turns out, being rough doesn’t work on him at all, he’s trained himself out of that, but since he never really got the chance to get used to gentle tickles he couldn’t build up a resistance to them. Regardless, it was your turn to get wrecked and Nikolai wasn’t going to go easy on you for what you did.
König/Horangi: From time to time you’d tease König. Nothing particularly mean, Horangi’s remarks were much more impactful than yours. Besides, König is a colonel, he had been through worse and can take some playful banter, often taunting both of you in return. It wasn’t until you had claimed that, due to his height, he must have some extra ribs that you genuinely got both König’s and Horangi’s attention. With everyone involved knowing that König was, indeed, ticklish, this made for a wonderful suggestion. Considering you made the claim, you got the honor of actually getting to count them as Horangi held König’s arms behind his back. Sitting down on his lap to make it just that extra bit harder to move, you got to work. König’s curses weren’t particularly creative, but they did hold a certain venom to them, they could corrode anyone’s skin. But the poison mellowed as soon as you made contact with his ribs, drilling in here and there and vibrating your fingers to get a feel for his ribcage. At first König was rigid, not moving an inch, but then he started kicking, trying to get you off of him. In all fairness, it almost worked. The lower you moved the stronger his reactions were. Once you were done you counted 17, to which Horangi naturally replied that that couldn’t be right, there had to be at least 28. Switching places with him, it was your turn to take König’s arms and hold them back. Horangi was a much more ruthless tickler than you, making sure to “get a feel of how much space his ribs take up” before “counting them thoroughly”. Yes, mistakes were made and he “lost count” a few times. Despite everything, he was diligent enough to try again. The conclusion was that König had no extra ribs that day, having only 24 it seemed, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still grow some more over time. This phenomenon had to be studied and he’d need a check-up every once in a while that only you and Horangi could be trusted with. Cussing both of you out, König recovered very quickly, looming over you with the ferocity of an untamed beast. Despite having considered punting both of you into the ground for humiliating him like that, he doesn’t go through with it. Another one who’s very confident in his abilities, he chases that instant gratification this time and goes for both of you to get his revenge. Maybe not at once, maybe he can get you to betray the other in the meantime, but he’ll have both of you breathless and exhausted by the end of the day.
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pascalsbby · 1 year
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The Devil & His Brother / II
Joel x Tommy x You
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Prologue / Part I / Masterlist
Summary: “Good, been staring out the window for far too long,” he said. “You can look at something prettier now. Close your eyes, bunny.”
He slipped around on the wetness of your lips before he parted them with one, thick finger.
“Stick out your tongue for me.”
AKA: Bath time with the Millers 😈
Word Count: 7K
Warnings: 18 + mndi, DUBCON DRUG USE: enemies to lovers, heavy talk & use of drugs/pills, morally grey Millers, slow-burn, angst/comfort/sex, age gap, power imbalance, possessive tendencies, major daddy issues (that’s why you need BOTH Miller brothers instead of 1). talk of death, shit-talking god & praying for the devil himself.
I feel like I'm sending out something so personal... and familiar in ways that I know aren't. Maybe that's how memories feel after a while.
God is fucking with my oblivion. If he wants forgiveness, he shouldn't have given us memory.
- Vi Khi Nao
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“Can’t do it, Joel.” 
“Goddamnit.” His huff was deep and bothered by your apparent inability to do anything he asked of you.
His anger didn't sit with you, but himself. He didn't really know that, though. Doesn't feel too much beneath the thickness of his skull. Hard-headed fucker.
The scent of you hung leaden in the steam-filled bathroom. Iron. Blood. Something saccharine that made him ache as he peeled your clothes from your weak skin. Lately, his temper has been short, and unbeknownst to you he hasn’t always been this way. Even in recent years. You assumed he was always like this, further etching the lines that softened on his face (only after yelling at you), but he would argue that you were acting like a little fuckin’ brat… so his snippy remarks were justified. 
"Did all the work of carryin' you here and now you're gonna off yourself? Cause you won't let me help you bathe in the only hot bath water you've seen since you were what.... sixteen? M' not that big and scary, Bunny."
You both had your own ways of dealing with things, you guessed. Verbal expression of any kind besides small, whispered sentences had been scarce. Except for when he was angry. Except for right now.
You stopped listening because suddenly nothing seemed to matter too much. It didn’t all feel so black and white; life-ending like he was making it seem, being a real grump. 
“Are you listenin’ to m–?” 
His tuneful voice now sounded hollow as it bounced off of your blurring peripheral vision. 
You didn’t answer Joel, instead, you listened to the music in your head and wondered how it got there. How you got into his arms. 
Joel called Tommy’s name after you stumbled into his warmth. You winced at his raised voice, almost breaking you from a blissful trance. “God damnit Tommy, get in here. I can’t hold her up and wash her at the same time.” Ten minutes of Joel trying to get you in the bath like you were a fucking toddler was enough. He wouldn’t be able to hold your body up and wash you simultaneously, either. It was a two-person job to do it correctly, and gently. 
Tommy returned an hour or so earlier, saying whoever had followed them had taken another way around, but they’d seen fresh hoof marks. “It’s weird Joel,” he said. 
“Fuck, I just washed these jea-“ his voice coming from down the hallway. He turned the corner, changed into clean clothes, and was taken aback by your bare chest staring back at him from underneath Joel’s veined arm. His skin burns into yours.
“What the fuck did you give her?” He was immediately angry. 
Give me? Peace. Radiating warmth, you thought. He didn’t know that you didn’t feel a lot anymore, but you knew deep down that you felt something more for Joel.
 “She’s in pain, Tommy. Only thing she’s felt in the past nine years is pain. Help me get her in here and then take off the fucking jeans then, I don’t care. Get some towels and then get in here. Don’t know how much time we have ‘fore it wears off.” Joel growled. Then you close your eyes and let go, swimming through the low buzz in between their thrown bickers.
He’d talked real sweet to you, in hopes of getting you to take a bath. Mostly because being 'somewhere else' would be best when washing your wound, away from the water gripping at your side. Another small reason was that he didn’t want to hear you mumble, “no,” again. You needed a proper bath if you were ever going to get better. Although you didn’t seem too interested in such
That must have been the extent of Tommy’s anger, because he listens exactly to what Joel says. He unlocks his leather-backed metal belt and it hits the floor in the same instance, cling. He doesn’t mention the pills again, just takes his jeans off before he turns the handles of the running bath off and assumes his position outside of it. Joel takes his own shirt off, skin soft-looking and warm. He was sweating, skin slightly glowing from the sweat reflecting the bathroom lights. You could smell him. He kept his boxers on, still maintaining a sliver of his respect. He was willing his cock to follow the same.
He sunk himself into the bathwater with a deep groan, one of relief. Tommy walked you closer and helped you climb into the bath. It burned, felt like it was boiling. You were standing in it now, between Joel’s legs, hands still enclosed in Tommy’s as he helped you keep your balance. Joel was trying not to think about how your core was aligned perfectly before him as you stood. You turned, ass swaying as you prepared to sit on his clothed lap. They both looked away as your body was fluctuating in the prettiest fucking way they’d both ever seen. 
“S’okay baby, sit down.” You bent down to hold the sides of the tub, letting Tommy go. You were spread open right in front of Joel’s face, the back of your pussy practically calling to him as it finally came in contact with his lap. 
Tommy turns around and sighs before walking out of the bathroom to fetch towels like an obedient dog. Joel shuffled you, with what would have been awkward silence between the three of you if two of you weren’t high. If one of you hadn’t just left the room.
Joel has already swallowed his dusty piece of sanctuary. You had too, in the tea he made you thirty minutes ago. He was dangling another pill in front of you, now that Tommy was out of sight. This time allowing you a choice; rather than remain silent as it swam down your throat.
"Let me help you sum’ more, baby. Gonna give you something to help the hurt. Don’t go running, an’ don't tell Tommy. He wouldn't like that I'm makin’ you feel good."
Telling Tommy would consist of more non-compartmentalized guilt and yet another thing for him to look down upon Joel for. Another bullet point to add to Tommy’s list of Reasons Joel is a Fucking Asshole. And you needed help right now. This is how he could help you. So no, he would not be telling Tommy that he fed the girl more pills, too. She was simply exhausted and needed help bathing. She was in pain and needed him; them. Tommy would have done the same, no?
He slipped around on the wetness of your lips before he parted them with one, thick finger. 
“Stick out your tongue for me.”
He notes your lack of hesitation to open your mouth for him. He places the bitter thing there, gently. 
“Swallow.” 
He smirked as you obeyed.
“You’re a’ good little thing, you know. S'good to listen and mind.” He tucked your hair behind your ear so that it wouldn’t keep falling in your face.
His drugs were now yours. His regrets, too. And he secretly hoped that his desires were burning into your body and being met with the same inner incineration. But he wasn’t regretting it right that moment. Not as he watched your body slacken. He knew your entire being was numb when you were reaching up at him, fingers looking for feeling. 
His thumb ran across the plumpness of your bottom lip and his thighs flexed inadvertently. You felt the small jerk of his body, your eyes drawn upwards meeting his. He felt the moment your breathing became deeper, slipping through his skull and resting on the center of his lust. Then he heard the teetering of the old house as it sang. He heard chatter outside, and it all sounded happy, nothing scary around. He returned to your nose, where a little black wish sat, kissing your cheek. He moved his thumb up to brush the eyelash away and whisper his own silent prayer.
You looked around his face before resting your gaze on his lips, and he knew that you were slipping deeper too. The moment ended in a split second torn into a million, and you were looking him in the eyes. Your pupils are already blown, helpless, and in need of strong arms to hold you upright. It fucking hurt. You hadn’t been so willing without the drugs. The pit of his stomach crawled in need as your back rested against it. Your ass was scooted up, and he could feel the break between your legs, could feel the warmer skin of your pussy kissing his thighs.
He loosely assumed that you’d never been in the bath with a man before, either. Probably never been naked in front of one... or two. And he knew that it shouldn’t be something he was proud of, to have you here, safe in his arms and naked in his bath. But he was. 
“Feel something?”
“Mhmm.” 
He felt your response in the tone of your flexing abdomen. His wide fingertips sink into your cushioned fat and the softness of your stretch marks. It stung, the water, like having his presence near it set it off, simmering around his body, trying to kiss anything of him that it could. The water was pretty pink for a few moments, your body releasing the hold it had on your dried blood and the dirt accompanying it. His hands were occupied by the washcloth he was softly rubbing against your body. Then it was dark, and whenever you looked down it was harder and harder to see the end of his legs, stretching out before and underneath you, holding your body (against his) up. “Fuck me.” It was he who had released that sound.
“Good, been staring out tha’ window for far too long,” he said. “You can look at something prettier now. Close your eyes, bunny.”
You did what Joel wanted of you, and quickly you fell into the heavy light buzzing right outside of yourself like your aura was bouncing off of the smoldering color... like a blanket, maybe. One of blurred confessions and soft, radiating heat. Your arms are heavier but in a slow melting comfort, and it feels like butterflies right above your hip bones crawling right towards your cunt in a low pulse. As if the energy moved and hovered itself into your underwear and is prodding its fingertips into your soaking center, touching every bit of swollen flesh as his fingers disappear into you. But he’s sitting still, you think. He is everywhere but inside of you.
Your memories lilt against your skull, retracting from any indication of themselves. Much of who you were is gone, left in dark patches of shadow and musk. Outlines of a monster (human) ((him)) setting his jaw on your shoulder from behind, willing the air to kiss that spot right under your ear. Your own blood, his sweat. The undulating sway of his plush lips and impending jaw from below. You’d only seen him this way, from below. Like he was something holy, forever above you and rarely looking down. You reach up and feel his face, running the sensitive skin of your fingertips against his stubbly chin and neck. 
-
Most of your time was spent contently sitting in your (Joel’s) favorite chair, the one you hadn't really left or released yourself from, just assuming that it had now formed to your body. Maybe you had melted into the dirty crevices, instead. You wanted nothing more than to sink into it and become a part of the worn and well-loved fabric. No one expected anything of this chair. For it to simply exist confirms its usefulness.
A week or so ago, you had been dying, pooling blood turned your skin terian-like, how the tips of your fingers used to turn in the now-cold bath. He was right– it had been years. This death doesn't feel much different. Just slower. You had been doing better before Tommy left to check the perimeters and outward land of Jackson. They didn’t know that no one would be following you. Or looking for you… needing you. Praying for you.
Joel thinks a lot about the comfort-glaze of your eyes whenever you saw Tommy that day like you’d been happy that he was there to see you off, hold your hand as you looked into the sky and deflate into the ground. He thinks about how you’d probably rather have him here, now.
Maybe that’s what you write in your notebook, still sitting in the chair, but this time with your face turned towards your lap, completely lost under the lamp every night around 10:37.
Maybe that's what is feeding into his mood.
You would have already been in that bath if Tommy were to ask you, rather than Joel. He thinks about how Tommy’s eyes lit up when he first looked into yours, hazel. Gaze flashing as if in recognition of an importance. Joel could see a hint of the brother he once knew, before his world ended. Before all of your worlds ended. He knew in that moment that something shifted for the both of you, but for Joel, it felt like drowning.
He looked at you and he saw the torn, soft skin of a small animal. He didn’t know that the damage was on the inside. 
Joel resented the way he was drawn to you, it made him viscerally angry at himself. He was angry at how calling you baby had been so easy, the way he felt his cock thicken at the sound of your grunt in agreement. Or the smell of you, even though you hadn’t bathed in god knows how fucking long. He pretended it was the drugs, but it wasn’t. These were his secrets and the web was already intertwining with itself. He almost feels like if he were to tug on it now, even more shit would fall out, come unstuck and drag him into the ground to a place where he’s surprised he isn't lying already. 
How can you hide such a carnal want? He’s unfamiliar with the feeling. Uncomfortable with it. 
What would they say? Would Tess say? “One more pussy for you to fuck, Joel? This time it's new and fresh, betcha could teach her a thing or two, huh?” Tess had always been the jealous type, Joel clocked it the first week they met. She hid it well, but you can’t hide from someone who recognizes something in you, because they recognize it in themselves, too. Joel and Tess, Tess and Joel. The town knew there was something happening between the two of them, but no one said anything. They knew Joel was her loyal guard dog.  They knew not to disturb Mr. Miller's peace. He was a kind enough man, besides that.
He was hoping for anything other than to hear the question, "You think you can save this one, too?" He knew that he couldn't. He couldn't promise your safety. However, he could sense that you were in need of it. Perhaps not obviously at first glance; you appeared tough on the surface, but there was something in your eyes that begged him, “Release me. Let me rest.” Something calling his name. He was hearing it now, in the cadence of your voice, whispering around his head as he stopped himself from touching you. 
He knew that they, you, would get him in trouble if he didn’t stop it and try to pawn it off to someone else before it (his desire) got too bad. “Hey, look, she’s with him, not me. Now let me sit and stutter into the darkness while you take the only thing that has made you feel an inch of something in the past month.”
They would chain him up if he ever admitted the level of his desires. Embarrassed at the way he was already entirely attached to you. Something about, “I almost killed you, but let me be the savior. Love me enough to let me swallow you whole,” probably wouldn’t sit too well. 
“Joel?” you questioned, slow and small. 
His skin rises instantly, stunned by your sound and the touch of your body. “What did you–?” he softly shhh’s you because suddenly, the way your body hums into his when you speak is too much. Your hand continues to fall slowly against the thicker hair near his jaw, ghosting over unsaid words and lips. His breathing was becoming too heavy for someone who was just there to be a savior. 
“Gettin’ clean feels good,” his heavy thumbs pinching deeper into skin, voice far away and muffled under yearning, drowning, “don’t it, pretty?” 
You let your arms hit the water, too tired and blissed out to hold them up longer. He chuckled and it rang through every inch of your nude being. The water splashed, and the roundness of Joel’s lower belly retracted quickly from your back, startled by the closeness of your body. You hadn’t felt it before, his whole self pressed firmly against you. The thickness of it. Your thighs oozed over his lap, completely covering him. Your feet ended at almost his mid-leg. He stretched further out in the bath ahead of you. 
Joel didn’t need a verbal response from you. Knew you couldn’t give him one anyway. He knew that he should, that’s the right way to go about this. But he had just carried you over his lap for a week, bleeding out on him, screaming. He would help you relieve yourself, too, when needed. Couldn’t pee by yourself the first couple of days. Didn’t bother him much, not after what he’d seen. He’s had much worse cross his hands. He knew the whole ride back that if you were conscious enough to know that you were still alive, you’d be embarrassed to hell that he would help you off the horse, pull your pants down, and hold you. He couldn’t understand why that had shuffled something inside of him. The point is, he’s seen it all anyway. All of you, physically at least. Now he was simply just helping you out some more. Until you could tell him to stop. It's the least he could do if he really did shoot her.
He watched as they pulled the bullet out of your side, Tommy pale-faced in the corner, shrinking. 
Joel knew you were out from the pain meds they had stuck into your veins, but that wasn’t a good enough promise that you would sit still through it, that it would be painless. 
When you hold more weight, you need a little more. 
He slipped you a little something extra before all the men got there that night to see and help. Your body was lying on his kitchen table, sweating and tired, dying. But you– you were asleep with a soft smile on your lips. He held you still, just just in case, hands pushed down into your cushioned stomach. The other was around your wrists, positioned just above your head so that the ‘doctors’ had room to move freely around your side. It was hard not to stare at a body that looked well-fed and healthy, in a world like this. Your breasts were moving softly with every movement of your body from other hands. Your hair under your arms was dark and visible in the way he was holding your hands above your head.
No one dared speak upon your body with Joel around, especially since he was the one that dragged you in here, meaning you were his property, Miller property, now. 
-
TOMMY looked away upon entering, watching Joel retreat from where he was whispering into your ear. He could hear the bass of his brother's voice, slowly echoing in the hallway. He would pretend, for the sake of his sanity, that he didn’t know exactly what was happening before witnessing it. Especially after Joel had mentioned a couple of times that you seemed closer to his age, meaning keep an eye on this one, brother. “She’d probably like ya more anyway, younger n’ more capable. Bigger name in Jackson, too.” This coming from the mouth of a man who even went as far as to say, “Coulda’ made a good wife,” three hours after shooting her.
People all deal with things differently, he guesses.
It wouldn’t be the first time that he secretly craved something that his big brother was dangling in front of him, knowing that somehow he had the advantage. But then Tommy felt guilty thinking that way. Joel had been through so much and lost too many people for Tommy to get in the way of whatever look took over your body as you sat against his chest, halfway immersed in water and looking up into Joel’s face. You looked more peaceful now than you have at any moment since stepping into this house.
“Come and try to get her, Tommy.” 
But of course, he won’t show that he yearns for you, too. It feels wrong. That Joel was the one to kill you but you were staying with him; that he was your primary safekeeper and healer. You were sitting on his lap, nipples hard and body at attention, peacefully asleep with your cheek pushed up against the hair on Joel's chest, resting in the arms of the man who nearly succeeded at killing you. 
If he were to say anything else, it would be, “I know you fucking drugged her, Joel. N’ you didn’t even give her a choice.” But he didn’t want to wake a sleeping bear, not right now. Not when you looked so peaceful and pain-free for the first time since they grabbed the world from underneath your feet. Not when the very thing Tommy could not stop thinking about was lying on the bear’s chest. 
-
YOU can feel yourself between your legs. It’s the kind of absentee pulse that you almost want to stop, but it feels too good. Light fingertips brushing the hair on the back of your neck. Like that of knowing a lightning storm is crawling its way across the night sky. Or hearing the neighbor roll their trash can down their road, unable to tell if it’s thunder or an earthquake in its deep humming, only to be relieved that it is in fact another human existing in close proximity to you. Although not something that you remember too well now, just the feeling. It’s surprising and suspenseful at the same moment. It’s love and then what comes after. 
There’s always an after. 
Then you feel the drip running from right inside of you into the hot water, against the fluttering of your thickening lips. 
Please. Kiss me here. Hard, hurtful, and sinful. Strip me to my bones and then use them as your toys. Then tell me I’m a good girl and run your hands through my hair. Tell me I fought good and hard and then let me lie here for a while. 
Chanting like a prayer. 
You remember the smell of his lap, much different than the smell of his neck, but still devastatingly carnal. You cradled into the warmth of his neck; in the burn of his embrace and you sat there, teetering between consciousness and the bliss of finally being held. You had always been afraid that you would leave the world and not even be able to wrap your own arms around you. But someone was holding you before the ground will be—  forever. This didn’t feel like dying through. 
This felt like something else. Similar, but different. 
You sat on top of Joel’s lap in the bath for at least an hour, resting your head on his shoulder, turning and resting it against his chest, too. They both washed you, silently eating you up. Tommy stood outside of the bath, combing your hair after Joel ran his gruff hands through it, pawing at your scalp and rubbing the dirt (hurt) from your scalp. No one talked, everyone inside their own thoughts.
Joel was stuck thinking about the small bags of things you had lost grasp on whenever you fell (were shot). It looked like time-worn items that meant something, from before the world was this way. One is an old driver's license- your smile, happy, content, young. Your name, now repeating in Joel’s head over and over, and over and over, coating every inch of him. He still hadn’t heard it come from your lips. 
9 years ago, this all started. You, now in your mid-20s. How long had you been all alone? No one had come running to your corpse. 
They had come to the conclusion that you were doing well on your own. You weren’t skin and bones like most of them who are lucky enough to survive and find their way to Jackson. You were thick, and heavy in the most beautiful way. Heavy meant healthy, able to hunt, and useful. It meant maybe being able to carry children. It meant handfuls of skin and whispered praises. It meant more to wash, to take in, and try not to touch. It was too much for both of them. The only difference is that Joel knew he was a weak man. He wouldn’t be able to control himself if he kept feeling this way. 
After they removed you from Joel’s lap, they towel dried you and you slowly became more aware of how different four large hands felt grasping at your body, taking care of you. Helping you.
An hour or so had passed and Tommy was lying in bed next to you, reading something. Joel turned the corner and leaned up against the doorframe. 
“Tommy.” There was tar in his throat, dripping down the back of his tongue and settling in his chest. He was a million pounds and his legs could no longer bear the weight of her. Of you. Of his guilt for slipping your drugs and undressing you in his bathroom. 
He looked into you, bounced off the sides of your mind, and then straight into the bed you were lying upon, sleeping so peacefully next to his brother. Tommy sees the pain in Joel's eyes, hung lower in embarrassment. 
He did this to you. He took the life of someone who had the rest of this fucked up world ahead of her. And it was a slow and painful death, too. You were someone’s daughter. It’s fucked up how the world works like that, huh? It wasn’t enough losing his own daughter- he had to kill someone else too. Does your dad, husband, or mother, feel you slipping from the world? Do they hear hushed whispers in the night of your name leaving something tongue? 
Joel stopped believing in God a long time ago. He was slipping from his grip, facing the fall, and Sarah’s last moments solidified his feet on the ground. Almost under. Still surprised it’s not under. 
“I’ll take her, Joel. In the mornin we’ll pack up some things and go back to my house.” He said softly, nodding and looking down at the ground in an unspoken, “I know.” 
It's Tommy who steps forward, taking charge and offering to care for you. He can sense his brother’s connection to you, why he wants to save you so badly. So much so that he can’t. He doesn’t trust himself for what will happen if someone else dies under his watch, because of him. Someone innocent. “I know she’s sleepin’ but can we have a moment?” Joel asks. 
Tommy doesn’t question him, he marks his page, sets down his book, and carries his body from the bed to the hallway. Joel waited a moment and assured me that you were tucked in well, warm from the bath. He sighed, one of pain. 
“I’m so sorry,” his voice was stern in the way that held back his tears. “You have to believe me,” he whispered your name, the first time it left his tongue and he wanted to say it over and over again. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have done that to you without askin’.” He caressed your face, watching as your body reacted to his touch, stirring, before the bed creaked with the weight of his body leaving, and then he was gone. You had heard everything, felt him leaving. The room felt entirely too empty.
The Devil was begging you to forgive him, and you wanted to. You wanted to bring your palms together and whisper his name through the cracks, hoping he would hear your silent prayer. “Let me stay here, with you.” 
Tommy entered the room again and sank under the covers. He moved his body closer to you and you decided to bask in it, instead.
-
You wake up, unclear but clean. You don’t remember last night in great detail, or at least a few hours of it, at all. He slept peacefully despite the world’s end, cocooned in a haven his mind crafted. Your mind was far less forgiving— or maybe you still hadn’t learned how to ‘deal with it’. You always felt like everyone dealt with It better. The room lay shrouded in darkness, your thoughts raging, Joel’s words echoed in your mind, etching against the soft inside of your head, deeper with each repetition. His guilty confession and desperate plea for forgiveness replayed. But forgiveness was no longer something you believed in. The world had ended, shattered, and reassembled without remorse. You are sober now. You fall back asleep. 
Your eyes opened again to Tommy caving the bed closer to him, moving your body closer, too. You closed your eyes quickly, away from him, and pretended you hadn’t been awake and listening to the lull of his deep breathing, trying to gain your standing. You felt comforted, waking up next to his freckled shoulders. The hazy light of morning was trailing in from the window and laying out on the carpet, stretching itself in the morning confusion.
There was one thing you were absolutely-fucking-sure about, and it was that Joel Miller had drugged you, and it had secretly awakened something unknown inside of you. It tickled, but it was shoving its way up your stomach and relentless, neverending in its pursuit of something. 
Tommy Miller had saved you. At least he had put you to bed, it seems. And with him, too, rather than the one who seems to be dissolving into his own. Your hair was wet and you smelled like Joel, but you were shrouded in Tommy’s clothes. Slightly more fitting, and better kept together. 
You’d never slept in a bed with a man before. And then all of sudden there were two, interchangeably. Brothers. One that smiled above your eyes and one below. Ones that rocked the bed differently each time their body swam through the damp covers. 
You’d never taken a bath with a man either. Never had anyone's brother ever pulled your sinking body out of bathwater. You remember the inward push of the water and the hands that followed, reaching through it, pushing you forward to Tommy. 
There’s a quick assessment you’ve always done, automatically but unintentionally, “Would this one stop if I asked him to?” Most are ‘no’s. Tommy was a yes in your mind. He would put away his soft, white wings and free you from his divinity if you were to ask.  
~
He was sipping his coffee, dressed in his usual, alone at the table. He had opened the blinds he made sure three times he shut last night. The smoke billowed from the base of the cup into his face and hair, mixing with the silver tuffs. They shone against the darkness at the nape of his neck and the bottom of his chin from the emitting light. 
He looked calm sitting there, as content as a devil could. He felt you before you had even turned the corner upstairs, but he didn’t say anything. He never really did. 
That being said, you can't remember much of anything besides wondering if it was indeed your body that rustled the ground that day. It was, and then you felt a man. A few days could have been weeks, and suddenly you were sitting in a town. A word that didn’t mean too much for a long time, but it did again; sitting at the breakfast table of a man, undulating under his gaze and between the blank spaces of your memory. 
An animal caged inside itself looks for relief in any way it can. Even if the relief is a different kind of pain masked as want. It meant throwing away your expectations and doing what it took to survive. 
You intended on speaking first. Rather, you reached the bottom of the stairs and tucked Tommy’s red flannel across your sparsely clothed body, and suddenly heard, “Shouldn’t be half-naked when Ellie’s here. She’s a kid.”
He didn’t even take the time to move his attention away from his coffee cup. That would be too much effort given to you. You ignored him, wanting to scream, “Was she here last night when you played with me like I was your little fucking doll?” You didn’t give him what he wanted, but still hoping he would give you what you did. 
You had watched the back of your eyelids dance with the small red and green dots for two more hours before getting up, willing remembrance. And oh, did it come.
“Got any more of those?”
“Of what?” He spat, eyebrows lowering in pretend interest in his hot coffee again… into his fuming lap. He knew exactly what the fuck you were talking about. How dare he take advantage of you and then throw it to the side like nothing happened. He was embarrassed. Embarrassed that he got high and took you with him. 
“This is feeling’ a lot different than last night. Those little round things that kept me pliant an’ dead enough for you to press yourself into my naked body? – Joel, do you think I’m not payin’ any fuckin’ attention? The second I tasted the salt on your fingertips, I knew it was you shovin’ pills down my throat. I knew it. And the way you were talking to me, calling me babygirl and sweetheart? Then I didn’t know anything, for a while. Not really. But Tommy,” you were raising your voice now, “Tommy was there too, then I woke up in his bed with his clothes on instead of yours— just tell me what the fuck happened Joel!”  
“Lower your voice, right now.” He was pointing at you, and his body moved closer to yours. “You… you wanted it Bunny,” He growled, “You practically drooled across my palm.” He sighed, gathered the lies from his web, and prepared them. He had already prepared his own cocoon, years ago.
He hadn't been the only one whose high wore off far too early in the night. 
“You didn’t say you didn’t want ‘em and—“ 
Then you spoke above the sentence he was starting to dig deeper into the ground, to his surprise, in a softer tone. One that had a hint of sweetness to it, of want. 
“Sweethear–”
“Do it again. Felt good.”
You liked it. Wasn’t the only thing he wanted to shove down your throat, either. No, no, no. Shaking the thought from his head. 
He removed his eyes from the creases in the wood floor and sewed them into your gaze instead, eyebrows cresting. He wanted to make sure he heard you right. He wanted to hear you repeat it.
“Say that again?”
“Said feels good when you touch me like that. When I’m melting into your flesh and sinking down your bones. That’s what the water felt like. First, it felt like fire, perfect for a Devil, and then it felt like a calm warmth. Then your hands were touchin’ me and, no one has ever touched–
a pause, “like—“
“No one has ever touched you, bunny?”
“No, Joel. And I hate you so much for making me feel this way. For showing me something I can’t continue to have because it’s wrong and, for being so sweet to me and then eating me up like I'm a burden because you couldn't just fucking kill me when you had the chance... and…I can barely even fucking walk. I am in so much pain but you took it away for a while last night. You took everything bad away. Why didn’t you just ask?”
“Hate me, huh? Thas’a strong word for someone who is depending on me, wanting more.” Good. This is how it needed to be. He needed to take care of Ellie, himself now. He promised her that he would.
“Depending on you? Sorry, I forgot we hadn’t got to that part of the conversation yet, past the one where you drugged me. You dropped me into your brother's arms as of last night, didn’t you? I remember it, you musta popped one too many, huh?”
Your attitude and his lack of sleep were making it easier to will the words off the end of his tongue. 
“He seemed better suited for someone…” he looked you up and down, “like yourself.” 
You didn’t have anything to say to that, and he was immediately sorry after speaking about it. 
“For being such a big bad man in this town, you don’t have your fucking shit together,” returning the look he gave you, “do you?”
You were out of breath, releasing too much of yourself into his anger, knees weak and side-splitting in pain. You weren’t going to tell him that you were awake when he begged for your forgiveness. That you heard every word he whispered and repeated it back to yourself as if it was a passage pulled right from the pen-marked Bible your dad used to shove into your hands nightly. 
He thought you had been listening to everyone talking, in the mess hall and whatever drama Ellie had brought home. Maybe even Tommy had told you about the real Joel. The real Joel will tear you apart. 
You sat down on the sunken chestnut couch and the pillows lifted more of his smell into your space, settling and trying to get comfortable. You both remained silent, stung. It made you even more mad that he had the ability to stick straight into your anger like that. So you wished for a way to really hurt him like you were some kind of child.
You weren’t done yet. You were angry. So fucking angry at everything you have endured. And he was standing there, pity and disgust in his eyes–but he was looking, seeing… listening. 
“Tess.” Her name stung like the sound it ended with, for a reason you didn’t know, but inherently felt after last night. The hurt that flashed into his dark pupils spread through the tightness in his jaw.
“Don’t you fuckin-”
“Oh. Shut. Up. Joel. Heard ‘er talking to Tommy last night. Came knocking on the door around 1:30 am, asking for you. Tommy went to your room and you weren’t in there. Went back downstairs and said he couldn't find you, seen you only a couple of hours ago. She was throwing her hands against the door like it was hers to tear down. Guess she didn’t know I wasn’t with you,” you took a deep breath, trying to relieve the pain so you could continue, “Have you seen him? N’ that girl? Tommy, she's a fucking kid. Ain't right for him.” You mimicked her concern. You knew immediately who she was asking for. “Maybe I should go ask Tess if she would give me a few, she seems like she’d like to know what’s going on.” 
His jaw was flexing, his eyes burrowing into you, biting the inside of his lip. You continued, 
“Feels’good being numb for a’while. I’m always fanning off another fire but it always finds the loose thread and kisses it ablaze anyway. This feels like sinking... like I don’t have to fight anymore.”
His deep breath stifled the fire on his chest.
“Know it’s good,” his tone falling deep, low, and warning, “But you don’t need anymore.”
“Don’t I? You were the one who fucking shot me. The least you could do is slip me some pills. I’m in pain, Joel. I’m hurting.” He knew that you weren’t just talking about the wound in your side, that he put it there with his own split metal. He wanted to take that hurt away, get you curled up tight against him and high, painless, protected yet free– from a world you were too young to be living in alone. But how could he protect you from even himself?
He didn't even save her. Nothing has changed now besides the fact he finds it harder and harder to get out of bed every day. That he’s running low on whiskey and that's what keeps the bear inside. The pills keep it sedated. How could he admit that he was not fit to be your protector, and the only other person in town who it could be, was Tommy?
That's why today was the last day you'd be slamming down his stairs. Your footsteps were a reminder that the hurt animal had made its way into his house. A reminder that he was the one who hurt it.“‘M not given’ you anymore. So don’t open your mouth about it again. Got it?"
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149 notes · View notes
therunawaykind · 6 months
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don't wanna break up again
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x GN!Reader
Word Count: 3.8k
Genre: Pinch of angst? fluff
Warnings: None unless you hate the names Leigh & Danny in the same sentence quite a bit
A/N: Long time no see! (again) writer's block and just simply getting the inspiration and motivation to write have been fucking dreadful these last few months. I dunno what was going on. Hopefully, all things going well this is my slow return to posting regularly again on here. If not then whoops you'll see me again at some stage. Who would've thought Leigh Shaw and Ariana Granda was gonna be my breakthrough for writing stuff not me that's for sure. This is my very loose interpretation of Ariana Grande's 'don't wanna break up again' I saw someone say it was very Leigh x Danny coded then this transpired. I hope I have done this some justice I imagine my writing abilities are a bit rusty so bear with me and I hope you all enjoy!
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*Please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!*
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If there was one thing Leigh was certain of since Matt’s death it was how complicated and difficult her life had become, ranging from devastating revelations to do with Matt and his teacher co-worker Nina, living with a Jules who is now a recovering sober alcoholic, dealing with her mother Amy with her previous breakdown she had where she moved to Alaska which subsequently led to her breakthrough of wanting to travel and basically just live somewhere else that wasn’t in Los Angeles, that wasn’t home.
In addition to that after Leigh’s breakdown after choosing to leave with Jules to go to Vietnam, she ultimately decided just to stay living in their family home whilst both Jules and her mother left for however long they decided. Leigh also decided to take over Beautiful Beast for Jules until she was ready to come back…if she ever did but nonetheless she couldn’t let all of Jules’ hard work go to waste. And last but not least the absolute travesty that of her and Danny whatever that thing is, it’s complicated, messy and above all else unhealthy all over for the both of them. Not to delve too much into the ups and downs of their….thing the latest situation ended up with Danny punching a hole in the wall of Leigh’s home, to sum it up in a simple phrase “People don’t slam their fists through walls when things are going well.”
The one positive and healthy yet still slightly complicated thing in Leigh’s life which happened unexpectedly was well… Y/N. Granted one of the only aspects that made it complicated was the fact you were her “student”, you both met due to you attending Leigh’s classes at Beautiful Beast, the friendship, and conversations which ended up evolving into more flirtatious conversations did just happen out of nowhere unexpectedly. The downfall of the whole friendship between you both was when Danny surprised Leigh at the entrance of Beautiful Beast one night to take her home…then you caught Danny kissing her which again took Leigh by surprise. That night and predicament in question had truly shocked Leigh because from what she knew and understood during that time, it was during one of her and Danny’s off moments, their pause a break essentially.
But in good Leigh fashion the second she saw Danny she started overthinking and thought she interpreted something wrong or missed a certain something, whilst simultaneously thinking this was Danny offering an olive branch and showing her they really can make this work, they can be good and healthy for each other….how wrong she was. So understandably from then on you started to distance yourself and pull away from Leigh after that by not talking, hanging out or texting as much. Unbeknownst to Leigh any hope you had of having some sort of relationship with her plummeted very quickly after that. 
Leigh knew whatever they had going on wasn’t good for either of them and would never last, it was a cycle they couldn’t break….well she couldn’t break. It was a lifeline for them both, the last small bit of connection they both had to Matt in some way. On one hand, Leigh had this negative and toxic relationship that she couldn’t leave, she couldn’t escape it. Somehow it always kept dragging her back in no matter how many times night and day it had her distraught, crying and attempting to soothe herself. On the other hand, Leigh had this seemingly hopeful, positive and healthy relationship she could have with you.
But before she even tried to give that relationship a chance she had to try to get out of this fucking cycle she couldn’t seem to get out of and no matter how hard she tried. Whenever she asked Jules for advice on the relationship, much to nobody's surprise always went something like this. 
“Leigh you need to end this thing with Danny and go no contact with him at least for some time, this is not healthy for either of you. I mean come on Leigh he punched a hole in the wall at our house. Let me remind you when I was living with you Leigh after mom left, just how many times I’d hear quiet sobs from your room, you talking to yourself to make yourself feel better and reassure yourself everything was going to be okay, that everything was gonna be fine. And I couldn’t get in because 1. You’d lock the door, 2. You wouldn’t respond when I asked if you were okay and lastly, when you did,  you’d just say you were fine, you were okay. Once one of you starts to feel happier and healthier the other drags the other one down simply just by being around.
I know you don’t want to go through another break-up or heartbreak….but you’re doing it to yourself constantly by staying in this with Danny or maybe…. You keep going back to this thing with Danny because you don’t want to hurt him and his heart completely. And if you do fully disappear from his life because to him you're his last link to Matt and right now you know full well you are leading him on and have him believing you two can have some semblance of a future together no matter how complicated it may be. I know this is a weird way to word it but… I think you know Matt wouldn’t want or like Danny to be experiencing this level of hurt and anguish as much as he is, not even specifically with you just with anyone.
But let’s not forget just how much you did hurt Danny initially when he was staying away from you and you wouldn’t let it happen. You forced your way into his life because you needed him to love you. Who knows maybe some ways down the line in the future when you’re both fully healed or at least somewhat…you two can be friends and have that last link to Matt. But also do remember that doesn’t mean you have to stop contact with Matt’s mother…. You can still have a link to him in some shape and form.”
That’s what she’d deal with, she knew and understood completely what Jules was saying yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it….unfortunately. She wishes Danny would end up being the person to end it but the chances of that happening are slim to none. But with the possibilities that awaited her on the other side of things…she knew what she had to do, end things with Danny then she had to get the friendship with Y/N back to what it was, and she had to show you that you weren't going to be just some rebound, that she saw a future with this relationship she saw it going the distance. 
When she thought about the aspects of the relationship she had with Y/N the only way Leigh could describe how she felt…was how she felt when she was with Matt. With you, it finally felt like Leigh had gotten the best and good part of herself back that as Leigh put it Matt had taken with him when he died. It felt like she could finally breathe again and live her life to the fullest. Fortunately for Leigh yet quite sadly when the friendship between you both was at its best Matt left her alone, and Leigh’s recurring what she would consider nightmares of Matt and Nina living out the life she lived with him finally stopped.
Now all she had to do was start the process and uncomplicate her life which starts with talking to Danny.
As Leigh anxiously approaches the door to the apartment she knows so well, she nervously wrings out her hands and fingers. She had texted Danny the night before asking him if would it be okay for her to visit in the morning to talk to him, as Danny eagerly agreed to her calling over she realised at that very moment he was expecting a very different conversation. She hesitantly starts knocking on the door muttering to herself “You can do this, you can do this. You have to do this for yourself, Danny and everyone else in your life but most importantly you and Danny.” After a few seconds, shuffling could be heard behind the door as Leigh took a deep breath in, in an attempt to calm herself down and get all of her feelings under control.
Once the door opened a weak nervous smile spread across her face, Leigh quickly scans Danny trying to figure out how he really is, as she sees him start to step out and lean in to give her a quick kiss but before anything of the sort can happen Leigh quickly steps in and gives him a quick hug as she states “so is it alright for me to come in?” as she smiles quickly at him. Danny’s face scrunches up in confusion as Leigh quickly pats his stomach as she steps past him into his apartment, he lets out an exasperated sigh and throws his head back slightly and he turns around to walk into his apartment closing the door behind him. 
When Danny finally turns to face Leigh he can’t help but notice her looking around his apartment and the constant nervous fidgeting with her fingers, her hair and her neck. He sighs to himself “Alright Leigh what is this about you said you wanted to talk.” 
Leigh jumps slightly as she spins around to face him “ I- well- yeah you’re right I did, I did.” rubbing her now sweaty palms off of the side of her jeans and slowly sits herself down on Danny's sofa. Taking a deep breath in and bringing her hands up to her mouth “I- I can imagine from the way I’m acting and just how difficult it is for me to start this conversation and say what I actually want to….that you already know what this conversation is about and where it’s heading.” Hearing a quiet sigh beside her Leigh glances quickly out the side of her eye seeing Danny leaning forward slightly with his head down and forearms leaning on his knees. “But Danny this thing has to be stopped, I- we’re both hurting each other continuously whether we realise it or not. I mean need I remind ourselves of the punching a hole in the wall situation.”
That got a small chuckle out of Danny as he shook his head slightly clicking his tongue. “And I mean it wasn’t just you Danny, I forced you to be around me when you didn’t want to, in our own little ways, we were selfish when it came to this situation. Now I know I stated and promised you before that I would never have a life that didn’t have you in it…but whilst we’re both still healing and dealing with our grief that obviously still hasn’t gone anywhere. We do really need to not be in each other's lives anymore, no contact, no talking in any shape or form no stupid lil emoji texts anymore.” 
Biting his lip and sitting back Danny exclaims “But Leigh that’s EXACTLY what you’re doing, you’re leaving, you’re having a life without me! You obviously think and believe you don’t need me!” 
“I’M NOT LEAVING YOU, I’M NOT HAVING A LIFE WITHOUT YOU”
“LEIGH THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT YOU’RE DOING CAN YOU NOT HEAR WHAT YOU’RE SAYING” 
“DANNY!” scoffing to herself and shaking her head as she calmly states ”See this, this here exactly happening right now is why we need to take a step back from each other. We can’t even have a normal conversation without blowing up and ending up yelling at each other. The only time we aren’t killing each other is when we’re having sex and- and even then since we had that conversation in that casino resort we both know Matt is still weirdly on our minds during that. I- I think no matter how much we try or maybe want some sort of actual loving relationship with each other…it’ll never work. The only thing we ever can be to each other is friends.” Leigh shakes her head and licks her lips slightly “Just a friendship. Because we are hurting each other and ourselves from the inside out. We have to heal by ourselves, without the other in our lives and move on. And hopefully at some stage down the line whenever we’re both happy and healthy we can get back in contact with the other.”
Leigh smirks as she sways from side to side “Cause I can’t lie Danny I think we’d be pretty kick-ass friends together don’t ya think.” She grins as she nudges Danny with her shoulder, clearing his throat and nodding “Yeah- yeah I think we would be. And I can’t lie I get what you’re saying I understand hell I see it completely. It- it is just a difficult thing to let go of even if it is just for a little bit.” 
Biting her lip and rubbing Danny’s arm “I get it, Danny I do believe me but you still have your mom. You both can get through this together because it was just as difficult for her to… You are all she has left. And I’ll- I'm staying in contact with her or at this stage more like getting in contact with her more considering she still is my mother-in-law or ex-mother-in-law anyways specifics isn’t the important thing here.” 
Danny laughs slightly and nods “Yeah, yeah she’d like that.” Both sit back against the sofa in silence basking in the reality of what now has to be undertaken the reality of it hitting them simultaneously. Rubbing her hands anxiously up and down her legs as she slowly drags out “rigghtt I guess- I guess I better go now and leave us both to our journey of healing, growth whatever you wanna call it.” Leigh laughs as she mumbles to herself “god I sound like my mother” She walks to the door with Danny right behind her as Leigh opens the door she turns around and smiles at Danny as they both embrace each other in a hug for the last time till…who knows how long. Both pulling away slowly and giving each other a subtle nod as Leigh steps out through the door as it closes behind her softly. Leigh takes a deep breath in, the grin spreading across her face going unnoticed by her as she starts to descend the steps of the apartment building.
Leigh was never nervous or anxious when it came to teaching her exercise classes though apparently today was the exception, as she anticipated your arrival. Leigh smiles moving back and forth on her feet as she greets all of the students walking in through the door to her class, anxiously waiting to get a glimpse of your bag, shoes or something as you come through the front door. Considering since you distanced yourself from her she’s noticed you haven’t attended classes all that regularly. Leigh’s eyebrows raise in anticipation as she sees the front doors open happily letting out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding as she saw a glimpse of your bag and shoes come into view. Giddily she lets a grin spread across her face and she nervously picks at her nails seeing you approach the entrance “Hey Y/N it’s nice to see you again, I’m glad you decided to attend and come today.” 
Taken aback by Leigh's greeting and striking up a proper conversation with you after so long did genuinely take you by surprise but couldn’t stop the smile on your face “Hey Leigh, yeah I can’t lie I missed attending these classes I’m sure I’ll get back on track from now on.” Both smiling at each other as you walk past her into the class much to Leigh’s amazement you turn around and say to her “Leigh if I can just say you look great...you just look happy and healthy. Whatever you’ve done or are doing keep it up it suits you.” With her mouth wide open Leigh messily nods and stutters out “I- I will- I-  Thank you very much, I will be sure to keep it up.” Leigh turns around to the door to hide and mutters to herself “Idiot”.
Much to her relief though the class was a success and she didn’t stumble or trip over any more of her words whenever she got closer to you throughout her class as she moved around the room. After the class finished Leigh quickly grabbed her towel off the floor wiping the sweat off of her as she said goodbye to everyone, in her peripheral vision she could see you deliberately taking your sweet ass time packing away all of your stuff. Biting her lip she attempted to suppress the smile taking over her face. 
As she said goodbye to one of the last students she sauntered across the room towards you as she started fiddling with the towel around her neck. “Sooo Y/N” you glanced up at her as you were putting on your shoes “What's up Leigh?” 
She smiles at you abashedly as she scratches her head “I just wanna say sorry and give you a quick apology for anything I said or did that created that distance and made us pull away from each other. Because- because for that length of time, I really did miss seeing you and your face around here but I’m glad to see you back now.” Nervously scratching the back of your neck “Yeah umm I just-” shaking your head slightly as you let out a breath “I just had some stuff I had to figure out and work on to clear my head a bit and- unfortunately, sadly to do that I kinda had to step away and distance myself from you and well all things relating to you. But I- I think I’ve figured it all out now.” 
You can’t help but notice the hopeful glint in Leigh’s eyes and smile “Oh really? A positive figure it out I hope?” 
Grinning and nodding confidently “Yeah- yeah it does seem that way.” Both of you stare at each other smiling to your heart's content as both of your eyes scan the other person. You clear your throat as you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks and glance around the room “Anyways I should probably head off and leave you to clean up the place or whatever it is you have left to do around here.”  Leigh absentmindedly nods her head but ultimately starts panicking as you pick up your bag and wave goodbye to her, she quickly sprints after you saying between breaths “Or or- or albeit this isn’t a very nice offer for you to ask-” you raise your eyebrow at her “What is it, Leigh?”
“Um, do you wanna hang out here with me and help me out around here if you aren’t busy? I just- I’ve just missed hanging out and talking with you and thought this might be a nice way for us to catch up.”
“Y’know you are right it isn’t the nicest or most glamorous offer I’ve ever heard but I have missed talking to you Leigh so I’ll stick around and help my favourite fitness instructor out.” 
Leigh whips her head around to face you and stumbles slightly as she starts moving the spare barres placed around the room “Wha- what do you mean favourite fitness instructor? I’m your only fitness instructor.” Smirking over at Leigh as you roll up the extra yoga mats “That you know of, could’ve tried out other places whilst I was MIA” 
“HEY!” Leigh exclaims as she throws a cloth at you 
Laughing at her reaction as you catch the cloth “I’m messing, I’m messing you would be correct, you are the only fitness instructor I know and one that I go to.” You hear a quiet yet stern “good” in response as she goes back to cleaning, laughing and shaking your head in the process.
Since then you and Leigh have practically been inseparable, it was as if nothing had ever happened. She had explained to you fully what went and was going on with her and Danny currently..more like what wasn’t going on. Even though you had said to her repeatedly she didn’t have to that it was none of your business. But you reassured her it was for the better, she made the right decision, she’s doing better because of it and you could only hope the same for Danny. Leigh now had you over at her house….for what she told you would be a quiet night in with both of your favourite takeout foods and as many movies and TV shows as you both could handle.
Which now that you were here was not the case at all. Leigh had gotten the bright idea, the brainwave or as she put it a breakthrough. She felt that the whole house needed to be redecorated and refurnished as it reminded her of sad, difficult and complicated times and she couldn’t stand being reminded of those moments any longer. So who were you to say no to helping her out yet again. As you were sat on the floor dismantling all of the old furniture with Leigh, you saw her peak her head out from the other side “Again I’m sorry about this, it seems like none of my hangouts recently are that exciting and it involves you always having to work.” You laugh and shake your head “Leigh honestly it’s okay I really don’t care what I do as long as it’s with you. But hey it’ll be a nice bonding time for both of us, be a little glimpse of what it’s like if we were to ever live with each other I guess.” You scratch your head and hurriedly get back to dismantling the furniture as you realise what you said. “Did you just say living together?” 
“Psshhh me say that? No never? Must’ve heard things, Leigh.” 
“Mhmm okay sure.” What you didn’t notice was Leigh moving over to you slowly on her knees but jumping slightly as you felt her place her arms on your shoulders in an attempt to get you to raise your head to look at her. Glancing up at her you see the silly little smile on her face “I may not be ready for that yet but I’d like to think we’d end up living together at some stage in the future.” 
Staring at her wide-eyed “R-really?” Leigh grins and nods her head as she whispers against your lips “Really.” Grinning at each other as you both lean in to place kisses on each other's lips which quickly turn into little pecks as Leigh slaps your thigh “Alright let’s get back to work this house isn’t gonna refurnish and redecorate itself. And this furniture certainly won’t dismantle itself.” 
Chuckling to yourself you playfully salute towards Leigh “Aye, aye captain.” 
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thegamingcatmom · 1 year
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Seeing as I´ve been suffering from a cluster headache for the past few days (and desperately wished for a very tall, very doting redhead to come smother me and kiss it better 🤕🥺) I'm feeling rather soft and delicate these days so I thought might as well dip a toe into human!Ellie territory.
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Aight so, Ellie is Mommy. No doubt about it. She´s very maternal and nurturing (and touchy feely) by nature. She gives these type of hugs that make you feel encased and protected - one hand wandering to the back of your head to cradle it, the other rubbing slow circles on your back - and when that hug ends (way too soon) she still keeps contact. The hand that´s been caressing your back now coming to grip your upper arm - gently - as her other hand moves from the back of your head to rest against your cheek and, for a fleeting moment, you can feel her putting just a tad bit more pressure behind her touch but it´s enough to just so move your head to the side and it doesn´t end there because-
That same hand makes its way down to take a hold of your jaw - thumb and index finger on either side, using her palm to lift your head just a bit - and there´s that fleeting moment again before both of her hands start retreating-
...But not before curling that index finger at the last moment and resting its side under your chin, tilting your head up in a light, quick motion while simultaneously lowering her head (quite) a bit - eyebrows raising - as if to say-
"You okay?"
You see...Ellie can be rather suffocating in the most endearing way with people she genuinely cares about. Be it family or friends or other...acquaintances.
...Which is exactly why someone just won´t get the hint, at all. There could be a giant neon sign reading "COME TATTOO MY LIPS WITH YOURS" directly above Momma´s head and they still won´t get it. But who can blame them when Momma Ellie has been so very doting on them right from the start because that´s just who she is. Everyone who´s ever met Ellie knows that her love and care for someone, be it platonic or romantic, runs deep. Once she´s decided that yep, you´re stuck with her now there´s just no hesitation, no holding back, she´s gonna (affectionately) smother them whether they like it or not. Be on them as soon as they´re through the door to hug and stroke and ~How is my little groupie? ~ (we´ll get to that in a min) in that angelic voice of hers and bending down down down to get lost in their eyes and-
(Remind you of someone?)
It also doesn´t help that someone is a closeted lesbian and in denial so they´re just really awkward around beautiful women who could pass as goddesses in general and it does not help that Momma seems to thrive on that, looking rather smitten indeed whenever her little groupie seems to trip over air which she doesn´t mind in the slightest because it gives her an excuse to catch and fret over and-
"Careful honey!"
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Oh and also, my Ellie is bi and she´s always been very open about that (college times were wild) and I think the main reason for that is her upbringing...or lack thereof.
As we know, she´s had a rather difficult time growing up with a mother too drunk to even remember her own name most of the time, leaving it to her to raise her little sister despite being only a kid herself. That´s formed her, made her tough because she's had to learn how to fend for herself (and her sister) from a very young age. She´s developed this fuck all attitude where she just really doesn´t give a damn about what someone might think of her or the way she handles things. She´s certainly no pushover and she will let you know when she´s onto your bs - loud and clear - and the sight of it is actually quite terrifying because she´ll just be towering over you, staring you down, not blinking, challenging you and-
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*gulp*
But yeah, Momma´s very open about a lot of things and she´s not afraid to show it.
Someone´s had a rough day at work? Momma´s gonna massage those sore shoulders like any good friend would, cooing at them when they allow themselves to get lost in that feeling without even realizing and of course Momma´s gotta take advantage of that - bending down down down until her lips touch strands of heaven because that smell, my god! and she´s taking a (rather long) moment to just sniff and snoff and eyes are starting to fall shut, hands tightening their grip on those shoulders, starting to decend-
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She loves her sister, she really does. But right in this moment she has this urge to strangle her because Bethy Boo can be a real oaf sometimes, bulldozing through the door without even an ounce of decorum, making them flinch away from her lest anyone get ideas-
But hey! Speaking of groupies...
As we know, Ellie isn´t best impressed when her sister tries to indoctrinate her youngest into her groupie world. But wouldn´t it be quite something if one of these groupies just so happened to be our certain someone who´s been very close friends with Beth forever and who´s agreed to accompany Beth to face judgement together?
And, suddenly-
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Also, there´s a reason Momma fondly calls them her little groupie...
This groupie world doesn´t seem so bad anymore...
They´re tiny (but tbf, Mommy´s a giant) and Momma adores it, revels in it because her little groupie is so sensitive about it, so easy to tease, so endearing. Especially when they´re sneaking into the kitchen for a late night snack and Momma Ellie just so happens to be there as well - what a coincidence.
And they´re struggling quite a bit to reach that upper shelf that contains the bowls - standing on their tippy toes, one arm stretched upwards as far as it can go (it ain´t much), fingers nearly grazing the shelf - almost! - as the other arm supports their weight on the kitchen counter, doing a little hop! here and there and - almost, they can feel it! - tongue poking out and-
Momma Ellie is struggling right now, lips pressed tightly together because she can feel it building up from her very core. But she knows if she so much as breathes too loud right now her silly little groupie will get spooked like a frightened deer, putting an end to this absolutely delightful display far too soon. So, instead of breaking into hearty laughter, she makes her way over to the kitchen counter and a certain someone has yet to notice her...good.
It´s only when another hand reaches over their head and comes to join the one that´s already trying (and failing) to reach these wretched bowls that someone stops dead in their tracks because that other hand doesn´t just reach up and get it done and over with, no. That other hand takes a moment to graze its fingertips along the back of their hand - starting with their wrist and slowly wandering all the way up to the tips of their fingers and lingering there for a (rather long) moment. Only then does that hand continue its way up and up and up and holy-
Reaching the bowl without effort, like breathing. But that bowl has yet to make its way into someone´s waiting hand because that other hand might be gripping the bowl - so close! - but it´s not quite ready to give in yet because-
"Need some help?" 😏
And no, certainly not. They were just peachy, everything was under control, they almost got it anyway- 🙄
But, as we know by now, Momma Ellie enjoys a challenge and she´s not gonna back down until someone admits they´ve just been rescued from certain starvation and if it wasn´t for her being there by sheer coincidence WHO knows what would´ve happened??
And it´s basically just Momma Ellie being a little shithead (affectionately) and smug af because she absolutely towers over them and if she was feeling particularly mean she might just dangle that bowl over them, urging them to hop!, only to lift that bowl even higher and cmon!-
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She recognizes when enough is enough though and goes from a(n affectionate) mean shithead to a big, soft teddybear in an instant. Handing over that bowl at long last and they snatch! it out of her hand, still quite grumpy and Momma Ellie realizes-
Time for damage control.
Seeing as they won´t face her because meanies don´t deserve attention she´ll have to improvise which is totally fine with her because now she gets to do this-
Hands coming up to take a hold of their hips, giving them a light squeeze, before bending down down down to rest her chin on their shoulder, wearing the biggest smile as her head slowly turns to risk a peek because she absolutely adores these moments where it´s just them and her, bickering like an old married couple and they might as well COULD be because-
"Forgive me?" 🥺
Ugh-
But they can´t help it, one corner of their mouth already starting to lift because-
"Jackass"
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Annnd we´re back to Momma being smug af because-
She´s gonna woo them yet. 😈💘
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peskellence · 9 months
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Pairing: RK900/Gavin Reed
Tags: Post Pacifist Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
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Summary: A lot has changed since the revolution. Crimes against androids are now punished in the same way as crimes against humans. A reluctant Gavin Reed and his new partner RK900 have been assigned to investigate a string of disturbing murders. Despite the shift in Detroit's social climate, Gavin still holds reservations about whether or not androids are truly alive. Will his developing feelings for 'Nines' be the thing to change this?
Warnings: Graphic Violence, Depression/Self Destructive Behaviour, Eventual Smut
Word Count: 3K
*Hey, this is Finn Treacher's voicemail. Either I've got a hot date, or I’m working for a change. Leave a message*
Gavin put down the phone, moving to the next number on his list. After several hours, the monotony of the task was beginning to drain him. His focus waned as his mind drifted to other, more personal concerns. 
*You've reached the voicemail of Gideon Heith. Call back when I'm home.*
He'd spoken with several possible leads, but none had been overly promising. Some had vehemently denied their involvement in any criminal activity - refusing to cooperate and hanging up on him. Others had been surprisingly cooperative, but with no prior offences or convictions, Gavin doubted they could be linked to the case.
*Frank here. If you want to leave a message, go ahead, but I ain't gonna listen*
He could only pray that one of their otherwise innocuous leads might be able to point them in the right direction. 
*...Hello?* 
Thank God - "Hi, this is Detective Gavin Reed, Detroit Police Department. We wondered if you might be able to come in to answer a few questions." 
*...Hello? Is anyone there?* 
"Gavin Reed. Detroit Police", he repeated, a little louder this time. "We wanted to ask you some questions about -"
*Ha, I'm just messing with you, buddy. Leave a message after the tone*. 
The detective held his breath, grip tightening on the phone, before hanging it up in aggravation. He allowed his body to slump forward and let out a dismaying groan. Trapped in his funk, he failed to notice the soft footsteps approaching from behind. His shoulders were then grabbed by a pair of firm, slender hands. A set of lips drew closer to his ear before exclaiming a thunderous "Boo!." 
Gavin flinched, albeit for no other reason other than the noise. He lifted his head to stare morosely at the would-be assailant, "Go away, Ti. I'm busy." 
The officer whistled at the icy reception. "Oof, someone's touchy today." Standing reclined against the desk, she leant forward for a closer examination of her friend. "Looks like you could do with a break - or three. When was the last time you slept?" 
"Last night. In my bed." 
"Not buying it", Tina shamelessly prodded underneath his eyes, tutting disapprovingly as she did, "You've got more bags than an airport conveyor belt."
"Was there any purpose to your visit today? Or do you just take joy in pissing me off?"
"A little bit of both" She grinned before pulling up an available chair. "I just wanted to see how you were getting on. Seems like an interesting case."
"Interesting is not how I'd describe it. 'Bane of my existence' is more like it."
"You've got a lot of leads, at least" Tina said, glancing down at the paper on the desk. "Something's got to come out of one of them."
"Easy for you to say. I've been stuck at this desk for three fucking hours, and all I've got to show for it is a headache."
"Would it not be quicker for Nines to help you? Pretty sure he could just upload the numbers and call them all simultaneously."
Gavin sneered resentfully, "Yeah, that'd be much easier. If the plastic prick hadn't gone a-wall."
Tina, who had picked up a pen and began clicking it absentmindedly, promptly stopped. "...Nines? Really?" 
"Yes, really." 
"The same Nines that does overtime every day? The one whose idea of a 'break' is to deep clean the canteen?" 
"I can't see any android detectives skulking around. Can you?"
Ignoring his friend's bewildered expression, the detective reluctantly picked up the list and typed in the next number. He waited fractiously as the dial tone rang - until a crisp voice eagerly informed him that he had reached another voicemail. Having reached the limits of his already tenuous patience, he shoved the phone back on its dock. 
"It seems a bit unusual", Tina pondered, rubbing at her neck. "Are you sure you didn't do anything to upset him?"
"Why do you always assume it's my fault?" Gavin complained, "It's been acting weird since yesterday. Ever since I told it that it couldn't come over for a goddamn sleepover." 
Tina was clearly intrigued by this, as her eyes sparkled with excitement. Leaning forward on her hands, she batted her eyelashes teasingly. "In what context would you be having a sleepover? Gavin Reed, you sly dog."
" Don't - it's nothing like that", he responded firmly. "I told it about the Tiff thing, and now it's decided it wants to appoint itself as my live-in cat sitter. It's weird."
"He can see that you're struggling, and he's trying to help. What's so weird about that? Besides, it seems like a good idea." 
Gavin hated to admit that there was some truth in that statement. While strange and unwanted, Nines' suggestion was based on reasonably solid logic. Given the redundancy of sleep, it did make sense that the android would be a prime candidate to monitor things overnight. Still, the offer did not infer anything more than a methodic calculation.
"Let's not delude ourselves that an android is capable of empathy. It wouldn't be offering if it didn't think it could get something out of it." 
Tina chuckled. "You're such a pessimist. He would get something out of it. The satisfaction of helping a friend."
The detective bristled at the suggestion. Friendship implied a level of closeness that he shared with very few. An android was hardly top of the list. Besides, Nines itself had expressed its own opposition to the sentiment.
"Right, I'm done here." Gavin pushed himself up from his desk with a low grunt, "Getting some lunch. Wanna come with?"
Before Tina could respond, the walkie-talkie in her belt crackled to life, accompanied by a muffled voice. 
*All Central Units respond: 1200 in progress at 245 New Street. Shots fired, 10-13 requesting backup. Repeat, 1200 at 245 New Street, requesting backup. Over*
Tina brought the device to her lips, acknowledging the dispatcher, "Badge number 5195 10-19 to 245 New Street." She looked back to Gavin and shrugged her shoulders in apology. "Sorry, I gotta go."
"Fine, fuck off then", he retorted, gesturing his hand in a dismissive motion, "Didn't want you to come, anyway. Was just being polite."
"Love you too", she winked playfully before making a swift beeline for the exit. Gavin readied himself to leave as well before hesitating momentarily. 
He wondered if he ought to find Nines, at least to tell it that he was stepping out. He dismissed the notion, however, rationalising that the android had made zero effort to inform him of his whereabouts - and it was only fair that he should return the favour. 
While adopting a steady speed out of the station, Gavin was quickly swept up by the wave of hurried pedestrians. He struggled to match pace, not wanting to cause an obstruction, but feeling as though his legs may give out at any moment. In search of a detour, he turned off at the end of the street and towards the entrance of a nearby park. It would add significant time to his journey, but the reduced crowding and access to benches more than made up for that.
The walk was calm this time of year, without boisterous families or noisy wildlife to disturb the peace. The expanse of bare, leafless foliage seemed to sparkle in the sun as the rays bounced off films of sleet.
It could have been his favourite season - Winter - if it wasn't for the damn cold. 
Gavin hardly noticed the time that had passed. Before he knew it, he had arrived at his usual pitstop. Gary greeted him warmly, pulling his attention away from the TV he had mounted on the wall of his van. "Afternoon, Detective. Didn't bring your scary friend with you today?" 
Any modicum of a good mood he had gained during his walk vanished immediately. He was beginning to develop an impassioned hatred for that particular word. 
"Not my friend. Work partner," he said, promptly changing the subject. "I'll have the usual, but can you throw in a XL soda? And a packet of Twizzlers. I need the sugar."
"Coming right up" Gary turned away to prepare the order as Gavin idled in place, curiously watching the horse race being broadcasted on the large plasma screen. 
"Nice TV. Where'd you get it?"
The other man beamed at the question, puffing out his chest. "Won big on the last race. £4k win on a £40 bet,." He leant over his shoulder, flashing Gavin a sly wink. "Probably shouldn't tell a cop this...but I've got a guy. Sixth sense for winners if you know what I mean. You want in?" 
Gavin propped an elbow onto the counter, resting his head in his hand. "Can't be taking chances. I'm broke enough as it is. 'Bout to be a lot more broke. My cat is having babies." 
"Ouch", The vendor flipped up a burger from the greasy stove, dropping it haphazardly into a bun. "Just wait until you start having actual babies. That shit is really expensive." 
"Don't think I'm in much danger of that, but thanks." 
"Hey, don't worry about it. Good-looking guy with a steady job? I'm sure you'll find a lady eventually."
Paying for his food, Gavin exhausted the mental checklist of all the possible things he could say. Some responses were harsh and scathing, others intended to confuse and mystify.
"That'd be a first", he muttered vaguely, not feeling up to the argument. 
As Gary slid him his tray, he briskly snatched it up and left to find a table. He hadn't been walking for long when he felt his legs starting to buckle. Physical exhaustion had gotten the better of him as he began to tip backwards, head spinning. A pair of hands shot out to support him, holding him steady by the armpits.
"Whoa there, you okay?" 
The gruff voice was all-too-familiar, and Gavin felt himself wither in annoyance. Just what he needed. Hank-fucking-Anderson and his plastic golden child. When he turned, however, he was surprised to see that the Lieutenant was standing alone. 
"Jeez, Reed." He whistled, giving Gavin a similar look to the one Tina had bestowed earlier. "Party a little too hard last night?"
I wish.
"I'm fine. Let me go."
"Sure you are", Hank drawled, subtly shaking his head. "I couldn't help but overhear that you've got pet troubles? Glad I got Sumo fixed when I did. No chance of any whoopsies with his lucky lady friends." 
"Do you make a habit of listening in on other people's conversations?" Gavin pulled himself away, smoothing out his jacket. "Didn't realise you were so nosy. Thought that was Connor's department." 
"Hey, I was sittin' 10 feet away from you. There wasn't much I could do about that," Hank gestured to the empty seat at the end of his table. "Now, pull up a chair before you pass out. Because I'm not doing mouth-to-mouth if you croak." 
"Good. I'd rather you leave me to die", Gavin said, nose wrinkled with disgust. With seldom energy to continue standing, much less walk to another table, He reluctantly took the seat. Hank mirrored the action, sitting down opposite him to continue his lunch. 
"If I'd known it would cause me this much grief, I would have had the bitch spayed" Gavin shoved a handful of fries into his mouth as he muttered quiet complaints, "She's an indoor cat from now until forever." 
"Kinda played yourself there, didn't ya? I'm sure Nines would be willing to help if you asked. He's pretty good with animals ."
Gavin let out a grunt of displeasure, almost choking as he did. "Is there some fucking conspiracy here that I don't know about? I already told it myself: 'No'. I don't need to be taken care of. I'm managing just fine." 
"Yeah, you seem to be thriving. Seriously though, you're refusing his help because...?" 
"Because it's a smug, insufferable asshole."
"Huh", Hank said, mouth agape. "Funny. Connor seemed to think you two were turning a corner." 
"Connor thought wrong", he snapped back. "Where is he anyway? You usually keep him on a pretty short leash."
"Hey, watch it", the older man warned. "The kid can go wherever he wants. I don't own him." 
"Could've fooled me." Gavin grimaced before shoving more food in his mouth. "So what, he and Nines have mother's meetings about what a dick I am?"  
"Cool it, Reed. I promise that Nines only ever has good things to say about you." 
"Bullshit."
Hank chuckled under his breath, stirring the ice in his now-finished drink. "Well, yeah, at first, it weren't exactly glowing praise. He thought you were a complete jackass. Over time, though, it changed." 
Gavin piqued up at this, "What do you mean 'changed'?"
"Ehh, he's found it difficult - the whole deviancy thing. Connor and I have tried to help, but it's hard to get through... with you, it's different. He seems different. Almost like he finds you comforting'."
"What about me could it possibly find comforting?" 
"Hell if I know", Hank grumbled back, frowning in disapproval. "I just think he feels like you 'get it' more than we do. Sure, we've been through it, but sometimes it's nice to meet someone who's in the same place. Helps build a connection." 
Pausing mid-chew, Gavin's attention snapped to Hank as his mind began to race. He should have known the damn machine wouldn't be able to keep its mouth shut. About his dad, his home life, his shitty family - "How much has it said about me?"
"There it is again", the Lieutenant sighed, leaning back in his chair. "He hasn't said anything , at least not to me. I just figured there's gotta be something to account for that charming personality of yours."   
"Mind your own business, Grandpa."
"Or you're just a prick. What do I know?" 
There was a moment of silence as Gavin processed what the other had just said. Did Nines really think that the two of them shared some weird, fucked-up connection?
No, of course not. Anderson had gone soft and was starting to project emotions onto machines. That was all - the naive bastard. 
"So what about Connor then?" Gavin pressed, leaning forward on his chair. "What have they been talking about?"
"They don't talk so much as they do that interface thing. Their minds connect, and they communicate through feelings and memories. It's sort of beautiful, in a weird sci-fi way."
"Well, if they could keep me out of their demented mild melds, that would be great. Thanks."
"Okay, I think I've reached my Reed limit for the day", The Lieutenant stood up with a sigh, dusting the crumbs off his slacks, "I'm done, and it looks like you are too. Wanna lift back to the station?" 
Gavin looked down at his tray, horrified (and somewhat impressed) to see that he had, in fact, cleared his meal in the few minutes they had been talking. Save for the Twizzlers and a few sips of soda. Pocketing the candy, he stood up, stretching his back. "Yeah, sure. Lead the way." 
As the two re-entered the station, the first thing that caught Gavin's eye was a pair of near-identical androids standing by his desk. Their hands were pressed palm-to-palm, and the skin retracted. They stared at each other, saying nothing, but their LEDs lit up in a frenzied light show. Eventually, one of their heads turned and caught a glimpse of the human officers standing at the doorway. 
Connor was the one who had spotted them, as well as being the first to move his hand. He smiled warmly at Hank and Gavin - but with a particular focus on the latter. "Detective Reed", he said smoothly, striding towards him with an apparent purpose. "I was wondering if we could have a word."
Nines appeared horrified at the sudden development, its LED shifting to red as it followed quickly behind. "RK800, that won't be necessary." 
"It will only take a moment."
"Connor", Hank said firmly, narrowing his eyes at his partner. "What the hell are you doing?"
The android appeared a little put out by the sudden address, ceasing his advance on Gavin as his confident smile began to drop. "Nothing, I was just seeing if I may be of assistance to -"
Hank held up a hand, cutting him off. "I think it's probably best if we leave Gavin and Nines to it. Don'tcha agree?"
Connor paused, his cheeks tinged blue with embarrassment. He shuffled on the balls of his feet for a while, appearing conflicted, before slowly nodding his head "Okay, Hank."
As quickly as the bizarre interaction had commenced, it had ended. Connor, guided by Hank, quietly shuffled off to his desk, and the tension left in their wake was almost suffocating. 
Gavin gawked at his partner, waiting for it to speak. "What the hell was that all about?"
"It's not important," Nines said back quickly, although the vibrant crimson that illuminated its temple told a different story. "RK800 worries for me. Unnecessarily."
"And what would he need to be worried about?" 
"As I said, it's not important."
Gavin grumbled, quickly losing patience and interest. "Whatever. I've started on the numbers on that list we got from CyberLife, but nothing promising yet. Sure would help if I had a supercomputer who could make the calls for me." 
"I see, of course." The tone was cold and overly formal, even by the android's usual standards. Its movements were stiff as if concealing some hidden shame or disappointment. Stirring something unpleasant within Gavin, he felt the resolve he had been trying to maintain slowly melt away. 
"...Look, I've been thinking -" 
Apparently, he was the naive bastard.
 "- about your offer to look after Tiff. I could use the sleep, so if you wanted to help out a bit, I guess that would be okay." 
Nines looked entirely floored by this. Its usually steely eyes blown to almost comedic proportions "Detective?"
"I'm saying you can stay the night. Asshole." 
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To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 14
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OK SO APPARENTLY I MISSED POSTING LAST WEEKS CHAPTER??? I mean I was panicking about going on holiday, BUT STILL?? THE FACT THAT I DIDN'T EVEN REALISE. Guys if I don't post feel free to ask me why because 9/10 times it's my dumb adhd ass forgetting cuz she's stressed. But on the bright side - I GOT INTO UNIVERSITY!!! So I'm in a very good mood rn and managed to write this entire chapter in less than an hour. It hasn't been proofread, but I'm gonna have to do that another time. Enjoy! <3
Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls end up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.
Tags: Kili x oc/reader - Fili x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company × ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Bagginshield
Word Count: 1732
Warnings: Mentions of Minor and Major Injuries from last chapter.
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PLEASE START FROM THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U
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< Chapter 13 // Chapter 14 // Chapter 15 >
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Part 2: Chapter 14 -
Thanks, I hate it.
Skreigh (Definition): To utter a harsh abrupt scream (Noun / Origin: Gaelic / Sk·r·ay)
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Eventually, Kay lifted her head up. Her grey eyes were rimmed by a crimson red as they blinked up as the two of us, and if you looked closely, you could see a tremble in her hands as they came up to wipe at her face.
Bilbo immediately sped into action, marching over to the bed and swiping the second blanket that laid at the end. Shaking it out of its folds, he draped it over Kay’s shoulders, and I handed over her tea, making sure that the shaking in her limbs didn’t spill the hot liquid down her front. Taking a small sip, she let out a shaky sigh.
“Are you okay?”
Bilbo was the first to break the silence with his question, kneeling down in front of my friend, looking at her with both concern and slight fear.
Kay nodded. Bilbo got up, murmuring something about food helping before he left for what was probably the kitchen. I waited a second before speaking.
“That was so scary.” I whispered, too shocked about the ordeal to take note of my volume.
“I’m fine, really.” Kay croaked, taking another sip of tea.
“Kay, I thought you were dying.” I protested, “What happened?”
She opened her mouth, taking a few seconds to get the words out.
“I wanted to tell Bilbo about where we came from, where our home is and–” She welled up, taking deep breaths to calm herself down as I waited patiently in silence. “My head just started to hurt. Like, worse than the concussion, as if someone stuck knives in both sides of my brain and shimmied them around. And then… I tried again to say something out loud and my throat just closed up.”
I shuffled over next to her, and she leant on me, resting her head on my shoulder as she cradled the tea in her hand.
“I guess I also thought I was dying.”
I tensed up at her words, now scared about what would happen to me if I tried to do anything similar, whilst simultaneously being scared for Kay. Though I was brought back out of my thoughts at the sound of her voice again.
“–It was as if something didn’t want me saying anything.”
I felt the hairs on my neck stand up at those words, and I suddenly got the god-awful feeling – you know – the one where you feel like you’re being watched. But I knew that surely, we couldn’t be, since the only door was closed and the curtains drawn. But that attempted reassurance did nothing to stifle the uneasy sensation that grazed itself along the back of my neck and down the sides of my arms.
“Maybe that something doesn’t want people finding out about us?” I suggested to try and reassure Kay, and also distract myself from that weird feeling. “It could be to protect us.”
“Protect us from what?” She whispered nervously.
“Perhaps from those who… want to use our knowledge to cause harm?”
I felt Kay’s head shift on my shoulder slightly, and I could see the way her brows furrowed in confusion.
“What knowledge? Half the stuff we know is too advanced for them. Like, not to brag, but A-Level Sciences are something they’re a long while away from understanding.”
I nodded in agreement, feeling a small smile appear on my face at the thought of being the smarter one for once. Though all those thoughts were washed away as an answer to Kay’s question came to mind.
“Maybe… knowledge of what is to come?”
Kay froze.
“Shit. You’re right.” She hissed.
A beat passed as more thoughts invaded my mind. One stood out, and I quickly shuffled to sit opposite Kay, facing her.
“We need to find out what day it is.” I blurted.
“Day? I heard Bilbo say what day it was earlier, but it was a weird word…” She mentioned, scratching at her head in thought.
“Can you remember what it was?” I asked, the desperation in my voice crawling through.
“I’m pretty sure it began with an M?” She replied.
I immediately racked my brain, sifting through all the obscure Middle Earth facts I had read over the years. I knew that the Shire had its own calendar, including days of the week. They were the same as our days of the week, but some days had a different name. From what I could recall, Sunday and Monday remained the same, and I could easily remember that Tuesday was Trewsday, due to them both sounding so similar, but the rest were still tucked away, hidden in the confines of my mind that only resurfaced once in a blue moon, and believe me, it is as frustrating as it sounds.
“Mer-something?” She added.
“Mersday!” I half yelled. “I think that means Thursday?”
“I don’t know, you tell me.” She said confused.
I fiddled with the corner of the blanket that was draped over Kay, then twisted towards the door.
“BILBO?!”
A crash was heard, then the rapid slapping of feet on wood, before Bilbo rounded the corner with frantic eyes.
“Yes?!” he gasped.
“What’s the date?” I asked with a smile.
He paused, a deadpan look on his face as he realised no one was dying again, and he straightened up with a heave, in an attempt to retrieve his breath.
“Date?”
We both nodded with a grin, and with an unamused sigh, he answered.
“It’s Mersday, the twenty-ninth of September, if you must know.” He huffed with a shrug, slapping his hands on his legs. “Any other obscure things you wish to know, after almost dying for no reason?”
The two of us looked at each other, and he rolled his eyes with a groan.
“Yes, what?” He asked sarcastically.
“The year?” I said.
He gave us a strange look, as he has done every time we did something out of the ordinary over the last couple days.
“Twentyyy… nine, thirty nine.” He answered slowly.
“Thirty-nine?” I repeated.
“Y-yes.” He said exasperated.
“Ok,” I said as I did the math in my head, before looking back up at Bilbo. “Thank you.”
He nodded slowly, a little unsure about what just went on in the last few minutes, and began turning back towards the door.
“That’s no problem. I’m gonna… make myself a cup of…” He pointed awkwardly at the doorway, “Chamomile. Yep. Chamo – Goodnight.”
He disappeared promptly, and I twisted back towards Kay.
“So it seems that we’re a little early.” I whispered.
“For the…” She made a walking motion with her fingers.
“Journey, yes.” I nodded. “A whole 20 months before Gandalf shows up, if I’m correct.”
Kay grunted in frustration, most likely at the thought of waiting for an entire year and eight months for Gandalf to commence O.D.R – Operation Dwarf Rave, in other words. Or Bag End’s demise, if you will.
Stifling a yawn, I lifted Kay’s arm up to squint at the time on her Hello Kitty watch she had retrieved from her suitcase earlier, to see it was almost midnight. I got to my feet and shuffled over to the door.
“Right, I’m gonna head to bed and attempt to rid my brain of the image of you dying. And you’re gonna sleep until you’re fully energised after all –” I gestured at her, “–that.”
She nodded in agreement, and flopped onto her bed, wrapping her arms around her teddy.
“And no talking about our world.” I said in a mocking strict voice.
Kay rolled her eyes at me, and I ducked through the doorway as a pillow flew in my direction. I yelled goodnight as I made my way back through the house to my room, extinguishing the low burning candles on my way, allowing the darkness to follow me until I reached the glow of Bilbo’s room, who was already watching the doorway as my footsteps neared.
“Is she alright now?” he asked, a slight undertone of worry in his voice.
I nodded. “Yea she’s gone to bed. Still a little shaky, but she’s managed to calm down.”
“Ok.” He said, reassuring himself with a nod, before looking back up at me. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I smiled as we both bid each other goodnight, and I carried on down the hallway. Ducking under the last archway, I finally made it to my room and closed the door behind me. Taking the last lit candle, I placed it on my bedside as I changed out of my clothes into one of Bilbo’s nightgowns, which acted as more of a shirt for me. Shuffling under the covers, I turned around towards the headboard. Manoeuvring the pillows around, I took some and scrunched them in an out in an attempt to fluff them up. Placing the final one down with a pat, I kept my body facing the head of the bed as a leant over to the candle. Opening my mouth slightly, I prepared to blow out the flame, only to halt in my tracks.
I felt myself freeze in place at the sound of a rustle within the room. Moving only my eyes to the left, I stared in the direction of the noise, which sounded like something heavy being knocked around. It was soon silent again, only the sound of the wind and the faint hoot of a distant owl from outside, along with the roaring of blood from my rapidly beating heart, could be heard.
Slowly but surely, I turned my head, until I was finally able to see the entirety of the dimly lit room. Staring with wide eyes, my sight fell upon the wardrobe in the corner.
Whilst being half the size of my one at home, it was still large enough to hide someone, which was exactly what I was panicking about. As silently as I could, I slipped off the bed, candlestick in hand, along with the small stool from another corner, and I crept towards the tall piece of furniture.
Now, I understand that in horror films, this is exactly how someone gets killed, but I needed my sleep, and I wasn’t going to let some hobbit burglar that wasn’t Bilbo take that away from me.
Pointing the stool legs towards the doors, I placed the candle on the chest of drawers next to the wardrobe, and slowly stretched out my hand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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16 notes · View notes
buysomecheese · 1 year
Text
The ship dynamic where like ugh ok so A and B were either childhood friends or young lovers and it’s Always Them even if there are other people for them it ends up being ‘A-and-B’ (i.e. Cory-and-Topanga, Wolf-and-Snake, The Bishop (Sarah Black and John Hart), Wendy-and-Tolkien) and they’ve been through their Shit and they’re established and they work so well together but then C comes along
And sometimes C has always been there, loving both of them but not being able to do anything about it because it’s ‘A-and-B and C’ and will never be ‘A-and-B-and-C’. Hell, sometimes A or B even had a thing with C in the past that didn’t work out for whatever reason so it’s over and done and C is just watching wistful from afar (Shawn, Stan)
Other times C is someone entirely new, who shakes up A-and-B’s whole world so much that they have no chance but to notice. They’re really good at the same job, or the banter is just such a new pace but one part of A-and-B just.. really appreciates it. C, however much they like both A-and-B, knows it’s never gonna include them so is very cautious about Everything relating to them (Diane, Nolan Booth)
But either way, A-and-B have a conversation- it’s more difficult for one of them than it is the other (Cory (because it’s always been there but he hasn’t been able to identify so it’s like difficult all around for him y’know he goes through the 5 stages of grief simultaneously), Snake, John Hart (similar to Cory except he’s upset about it), Tolkien) and they approach C and they are Beyond confused. They don’t believe it, this has got to be a prank or something. A-and-B are making fun of them- except C knows they would never do that, not like this. C will just have to leave, as to not disturb the peace A-and-B have created…
But A-and-B want it to be A-and-B-and-C
Of course, one part of A-and-B has more difficulty adjusting than the other (Topanga, Snake, John Hart, Tolkien)- they and C fight, they’re petty, it takes a lot of reassurance but they want this to work for their hinge (idk what else to call them I’m talking about like the Cory and Wolf characters) so them and C get to know each other one-on-one, they figure their shit out. It’s still more turbulent than just A-and-B was, but with time it becomes easier etc. etc.
AUGH it’s just so much I could talk about each individual ship So Much (especially Shawn-and-Cory-and-Topanga I’m currently watching BMW and they mean SO MUCH to me) so I think I will because this is my blog y’all get to see my opinions!!! This is just like my main/favorite hc of how it happens I Loveee playing around with timelines for angst or smut hehe
Shawn-and-Cory-and-Topanga
So ok I’ve like Not watched past s2 yet but idc I love them. I think that Topanga figured it out- watched Cory’s reactions to Shawn’s “babe” one too many times, noticed Shawn finding Cory in a room first every single time, woke up more often then she thought was normal with the taste of Shawn’s lips on hers (referencing that one ep where they kissed for some reason? Idk haven’t watched it yet but ik it happens I’ve read fanfic), felt Shawn’s hand brush against her free hand all the time in the halls. She decides enough is enough, sits Cory down- she’s smart, she’s not mad, is he in love with Shawn? Yes Topanga, of course he’s in love with Shawn, you can’t be friends with someone for this long without being in love with them. No Cory, not like that- does he love Shawn the way he loves Topanga.
And oh, the look of slow realization on Cory’s face says so many things.
He’s relaxed (this is just a fact of life for him), he’s confused (what does she mean ‘the same way’, of course he loves them the same), he’s upset (she’s not mad but he is- how could he not have realized for so long? If she doesn’t mind now then how long could he have had his wildest dreams? How long with them did he miss out on?), he’s scared (what could this mean for all of them?), he’s anxious (this is weird, what could his Shawn possible think about this?).
Topanga holds his face, calms her Cory down a bit- me too, she says, for much less time I’m sure, but me too. We can work this out, she insists, we’ll talk to him and explore our options.
And of course, when they finally sit Shawn down with them, he doesn’t- can’t- believe it. This is some sick joke, why would they want him of all people? They could literally have anyone they wanted at any time, why him and why now? But no, they just keep saying it. I love you. We love you. It’s always been you, Shawn, I just couldn’t see it- be glad Topanga only waited this long to tell me and not longer. If you don’t believe my words, Shawn, believe my dreams- do you want me to recount them right now? They’re a bit explicit for a first conversation, but I could start with- and on and on and on.
Now both of them calming him down, they come to a consensus: Shawn can think it over for as long as he needs, Cory-and-Topanga will act with him exactly as they always have until he says otherwise. Topanga is already guessing at his answer, but Cory has barely ever been more nervous in his life.
Of course, it works out for the better- Shawn comes back, he needs them in his life as much as they need him. That’s all they know and they’ll work out the intricacies later. Topanga and Shawn, who already have a sort of ‘war’ over Cory, find themselves falling into that back-and-forth sometimes still, but then one of the three starts looking sad and apprehensive and they Converse instead and make it nice (of a tad tense) for the rest of the evening, allowing them to bounce back right in the morning. Shawn has some old habits he really needs to work to kick (isolation mainly), but every time he’s feeling that way the other two know when to hold on with their whole strength and when to welcome him back with open arms.
Snake-and-Wolf-and-Diane
Ok so fully I think Snake (hc: Niraj) is a gay man but like he loves Wolf (canon: Moe) so much and they both fuck around outside of each other so it’s chill that Moe hangs out with Diane now, so often. Until Snake does find himself getting jealous, feeling pushed aside; he’s planning his escape, how he’s gonna deal with not only leaving Wolf without a word, but also the only family he’s had in years. And what really sucks is that Diane is wonderful, she’s so great for Wolf- she’s not some old jaded person, she’s Wolf’s age, full of life and love, Snake’s exact opposite. So he assumes that it’s time for him to leave, again.
He packs his bag, gets halfway to the next town before the whole gang is blowing up his phone. He can’t drive so they (Moe-and-Diane; Niraj has already accepted that his place has been taken) catch up with him fast enough. Diane’s driving; Moe is shaking so much he can barely hold his Niraj, tears streaming down his face.
“You can’t do that to us, Snake! I- we thought you were dead!”
“… just though I should get out of the way before you have to tell me to go, is all.”
It’s a whole thing, they’re both yelling at each other. Diane doesn’t know where she fits into this, so she just drives them home when they’re done yelling. She’s a bit scared, but she does love them both and she knows how much Moe needs Snake.
A lot of talking, a lot of compromise, a lot of reassurance from Moe. Diane offers to step out multiple times but they keep her there, because as much as it’s about Niraj-and-Moe it’s also about Diane. Etc. etc. this ship especially is a slow go, takes a long time to become functional again, but it is so worth it once they get there. (Snake is a big believer of ‘a hole’s a hole’ and also Diane is big on pegging so it does work out sexually even if outside of that they’re just really good friends who share a boyfriend but tbh it just like clockwork with how good everything is ugh I love this movie tremendously. Also Diana and Webs definitely flirt more than ‘friends joking’ and the whole lot of them are a bit polyamorous/anarchist in their relationships)
John Hart-and-Sarah Black-and-Nolan Booth
They like Have a canon ‘hey let’s try this throuple thing out’ scene it’s where Nolan is on their boat and is like ‘you guys fuck so loud you weren’t the only ones crying’ and Sarah is like ‘you’re eating raw pork rn’ and they’re all so silly and then John and Sarah have their ‘do you trust me?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Do you love me?’ ‘Always.’ ‘Then that’s all we need’ scene and that’s literally Sarah going ‘her babe you literally want to have sex with him so bad just give the romance part a try. I think you guys would be so cute together and also I think he’s really sweet and cute and I kinda want to kiss him as well let’s try this out please.’ And John begrudgingly agrees and the procession of events is so funny after that (to viewers)
John doesn’t think he’s attracted to men so he’s Incredibly confused about all of this. Nolan is confused as to why he feels like this couple- the hottest couple to exist, by the way, his words and you can quote him on it- seems to be.. coming onto him? Sarah is having so much fun scheming about this she is loving this.
Nolan and Sarah bond over Taylor Swift music. John slowly gains respect for Nolan during different heists they pull, and Nolan becomes less scared of John with every small compliment (or rather, lack of a critique). It actually does cause some rifts between John and Sarah but they’ve overcome everything before, them liking some guy isn’t gonna stop them now. So when Sarah finally kisses John and then kisses Nolan, followed immediately by John kissing Nolan, poor Booth feels just a bit lost. John passed him his glass of wine and they talk it out. Takes a while, and it doesn’t definitely get physical for them on the first night, but hey! That’s that and that works for them
And then they commit heists and Sarah has hate sex with Inspector Daz at least once and they live forever after this movie is so. I’m so excited for the sequels you actually have no idea
Tolkien-and-Wendy-and-Stan
So obviously Wendy and Stan had been Wendy-and-Stan- forever ago. Back in elementary school. It’s been Tolkien-and-Wendy since like 8th grade, going strong to senior year. Stan wouldn’t lie and say he’s not jealous, but he would also never admit that he was- Tolkien was his neighbor and actually they do get along really well, and he knows that Kyle and Wendy and Tolkien are close friends individually and he’s been able to be at the very least acquaintances with Wendy recently so he really does not want to ruin that. So he’s just chilling, pining a bit, even if he’s not exactly sure as to who for.
Wendy-and-Tolkien do have a very healthy sex life for two high schoolers, and are very comfortable with one another- when Wendy asks Tolkien (really casually, over lunch) “if you were to sleep with a guy, who would it be?” and he answers “Stan” almost on instinct, Wendy knows exactly how she can work with this. Purely planning for just a sort of sexual arrangement, she gets a bit closer to Stan to assess his mental health and availability and then the three of them have a Long conversation. Tolkien ends up driving them all into Denver to get tested for STDs and they’re all clean (surprisingly on Stan’s part, until they realize just how much he’s actually just been wanting the two of them), they have the sex, and then Stan.. stays the night.
On accident, of course, but he wakes up earlier and better rested than he has since maybe early elementary school, so he makes them all breakfast. He knows how Wendy used to eat and he knows what Tolkien does like so he makes a little spread in the Testaburger kitchen and when the other two wake up they are beyond surprised- not unpleasantly so.
This becomes somewhat of a regular thing- every few weeks, they’ll invite Stan over, and he’ll just end up staying over. He sort of fits into them perfectly, and ends up not just staying over night but in their minds as well. Clearly he’s a lot more grown-up than he was in 4th grade, and they all get along as friends, and Tolkien-and-Wendy decide it’s time for another Long conversation, inviting Stan in as an always fixture to their relationship. Immediately he jumps on board with that idea, and Tolkien-and-Wendy become Tolkien-and-Wendy-and-Stan
The conflict comes mainly from Wendy’s side here- she’s not embarrassed of Stan, she swears, she’s just embarrassed to tell her friends that she’s seeing him again. Tolkien’s a bit worried about telling people the polyamorous part, and Stan is overall a bit offended because he told Kenny and Kyle and Eric the first time Tolkien and Wendy invited him over. This issue mainly resolves itself with time and comfort and then they’re chilling and it’s good. Until Wendy asks Stan the same question she had asked Tolkien…
I had a lot more feelings about this one but uh I cared about South Park for like a month or so and then my brain decided we were tired of it so I have nothing else to offer I just think they’re all a lot more chill and communicative in high school idk
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tf2workbench · 2 years
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Opposite day
There’s an attribute in the game code that changes how much damage players take at the edge of an explosion. It’s meant to reduce the blast falloff penalty, but it can also be used to make an explosion more damaging if it just brushes you, rather than hitting you dead-on.
Inverse Rocket Launcher Iteration 1 (+) Damage increases up to +50% at the edge of the explosion (-) -20% damage (-) -15% blast radius
Spoiler: this isn’t gonna work so well. (But I redo it more successfully below!)
Right off the bat, I’ll say I’m not a huge fan of this weapon. There are two reasons, which you could really lump into one:
First, careful aim is actually a worse strategy than firing vaguely near the target. You’ll actually be aiming to hit people with the edge of the blast - sure, it takes some skill, but it’s strikingly different from anything else in the game, and you could argue it rewards blind spamming. Not the end of the world, but not encouraging you to play your best game, is it?
Second, it’s unintuitive. It operates unlike any other explosion in the game, or most of our mental ideas of explosions. I implemented this attribute in Alternative Fortress for a while, and I was routinely taken aback when I died to things that I was instinctively running away from - or when an explosion left my nearby teammate alive while simultaneously gibbing me. Some of that could be evened out with experience, but it’s usually a risky idea to upend a very basic game mechanic in such a way; it feels unfair and unintuitive.
Thirdly (okay, I didn’t say I had a third, but here we are), it doesn’t really add that much new gameplay. It changes the way you aim and how your opponents dodge, but there aren’t really new tricks or choices for anyone to make.
I don’t like to make these negative posts, but at this point, I can’t think of a way that would be fun to implement inverse blast falloff. I could imagine making reduced blast falloff, like to 75% damage instead of 50%... but I don’t know of a way to invert it without causing the issues I’ve discussed here.
As an apology for nixing this idea, I wanted to make a different but related rocket launcher:
Shockwave Iteration 1 (+) On direct hit: a shockwave spreads across nearby ground for half a second, causing enemies within to take rapid damage and bounce slightly into the air (+) Shockwave radius is +25% of default explosion (-) No explosion on direct hit (-) -75% blast radius on hitting world
This might be more suited to a Demoman weapon, as it’s great at area denial, but I felt bad for taking away a potential new toy for the Soldier.
Anyway, like I said, area denial. Striking targets will make the area inhospitable for a brief while, encouraging enemies to stay out. If there’s a problem with this weapon, it’s that it slows down the game by making it harder for enemies to advance; they don’t have a lot of counterplay options besides not getting hit. Being bounced into the air also opens them up to dangerous knockback, but that’s kind of an auxiliary feature anyway - it can be removed.
For the user themselves, though, there’s a great element of timing introduced to this rocket launcher. Because shockwaves are not instant like explosions are, you’re encouraged to do a little bit of planning ahead, which I think is a fun way to play. Ideally, I’d make a weapon that’s fun for both the target and the user, but for now, it may be time to step back and acknowledge that, if it’s not perfect, it’s at least better than the first thing we tried.
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soir-rouges-esprit · 6 months
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youtube
xxvi.a: Son of Salem, I awoke on the Falkor-disguised couch in a never-ending story of comfortability and refreshing rest. I also awoke to what sounded and felt like a mini tap dancing session was being held on my chest … I looked up, Ein had been standing on his hind legs slightly bouncing up and down and tapping his feet … why? Because also above me hovering was The Imp, dangling a long strip of velvet, spinning it around his head as he tried to grab it. Well … this is a pleasurable way to wake. “Wakey wakey … do you want some breakfast?” Yeah for sure! I grab Ein and put him down on the couch, I kick my feet up and jolt to a stand. The Imp takes the velvet strip, and runs it across my face my face making a sound *Woosh* *Woosh* *Woosh* “Knew it!” *she motioned to high five* I jab her in the gut. She releases all the air in her lungs and makes a sound *Uagh!* she falls to one knee. I lean over, with a shit-eating grin, and say … That! … was payback. She raises her left arm laterally with quick speed and paints my face with a red handprint. I stumble a bit. “Fuck … fuck you bitch” I rub my face and walk past her to the kitchen. So … what'd you make? She stands and also walks to the kitchen, going behind the island table sink combo she had that was white marble table topped with pitch black wooden slick finished body. She picks up a white plate and lays it on the tabletop, spins it towards me, landing perfectly in front of me. “Omelet! Made with minced garlic, sliced mushroom filling, garnished with fresh diced thyme and parsley. With a side of apples and crème parfait AND *Slam* *Crack* … a nice cold Dr.Pepper Zero.” It was at that moment I thought I could cry. This has to be … the best fucking breakfast I've ever been served … holy shit. “*ahem*” … Thank You, Imp … seriously. “There it is!” you remembered my Omelet recipe? “Uhhh DUH … it's fucking the best. And you said you loved it right? So I wrote it down!” My heart raced a little, as she stood there and smiled at me big and wide. Well yeah! Of course, I mean … breakfast is the shit so … I had to make the best Omelet recipe ever. She picked up a second plate with the exact same assortment. Sat next to me and we ate breakfast. Afterward, I cleaned the plates and then got dressed in my old clothes from yesterday, now washed and clean. “So … what's your plan then? What's next?” Gotta head out … go find a shade named Vigor. “Vigor? You need to be More! vigorous?? Thought you would have had that one already” Hell no … I mean look at me. I need to collect as much of Body as possible … I'll need more physical strength and endurance, again realistically as much as possible, as well as understand more and find as many Bells as possible, in case my preparations fail. “Woah woah woah … slow it down. Collect as much of Body as possible? How does that work exactly? Thought Wrath had Body so … you gonna shatter Body then collect the bits?” Not exactly, I don't even know if I could do that honestly … but, it's true Wrath has not just one … but both Primarchs, Body & Mind; with every other shade I've been looking for technically being a piece of those two … I guess I'm looking for shards really more than shades but, whatever you get the idea. “Wait … so Body & Mind are like the two main pieces right?” Yeah pretty much. “So then they aren't shards to anything bigger?” No, they are! they're the two main shades to the whole damn Shadow, so to speak. “Well … if they're the two main shades … and Wrath has both of them … why haven't they joined together to become the whole Shadow already? The complete you again.” Well that's … well uhm. My mind went blank, and started to fill with a million questions simultaneously being answered … the supercomputer at work. Well … Well I guess maybe, well no that can't be I guess, oh maybe … or … I … why wouldn't they? “Wait … have you … forgotten?” I-i … don't understand, why wouldn't they combine and end this … nightmare. “Hey … ” She sits beside me on her couch, and cradles her arm around my neck ... [To Be Continued]
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ablogwithoutacause · 1 year
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If only you knew how intrigued I am by our differences. How amusing it is to see you hop and hop through the tall meadows. Seeing the grass as an obstacle that’ll slow you down from getting to your destination. When in reality the wind is calm and nothing but the sun rays and the humidity of the damp soil due to the previous night’s rain is what accompanies you on your journey across the grass. While I’m the tortoise just slowly cutting through the field… step by step. Knowing i can get there eventually without a doubt. It just so happens that on a downhill, a rill… or a stream of that collected rain from the night before accelerates my trajectory in a way that we both get to the same destination simultaneously.
Of course being a vulnerable bunny in a field can yield a worry in case of predators, although, that’s not the case in this example. The sun is out, the predator hawk has ate. The fox is nursing it’s pups. So the tortoise and the rabbit are free to carry out their journey. And of course cutting through a meadow as a small animal when compared to scale with humans can be intimidating. Consider the following, lets pretend the course is no more than 10ft long, and at different paces we manage to complete the obstacle in a tie. Not one gets to the finish line faster than the other? The two can appreciate one another’s differences. One could even say that the two can learn from one another. The rabbit might learn to stop… give its rapid beating heart a rest while the tortoise puts a little pep in its step. Or he comfortably hides in his shell as he rolls down a hill to catch up to the conejita.
Hearing you get ready for work just now. Listening to you out of breath. Running the sink water, step very rapidly from one side of your room to another. Had it been me getting ready on this end. I would’ve sat down, tied my shoes slowly and know that as soon as i leave by certain time, i can get there… and even if i am running late, I’m not winning or losing by being a minute early or a minute late. The job is gonna get done. Traffic might unexpectedly get us both wether we leave early or run a red light to get there on time. Everything is a balance. As a whole we must find our balance. Individually we must also find our balance.
I’m amused by opposite attributes coexisting and living in harmony. That’s literally what marriage is. A man, a woman. Two different beings. Two different leading hormones, together as one. Balancing and providing what the other lacks. Now make the macro micro, by analyzing more differences. The speedy monkey can learn from the sloth taking a nap. And the Sloth can learn from the monkey climbing the trees for nutrition before other animals finish picking out the ripest fruits. That’s what makes this thing life called beautiful. Slow it down here, speed it up there. Go with the flow. Love. Be easy on yourself. Smile in the mirror. Cry in the mirror. They both contribute to our need of releasing bottled sentiment. Just like the pink of the bougainvillea needs the dark green to contrast, the green needs of the pink to harmonize in nature. They’re different, yet together they unite to form one of my favorite plants of all time. There’s no need for them to outshine one another. They both serve a purpose together. The chlorophyll of the green helps with photosynthesis and oxygen release… while the colorful flowers attract the bees to ensure pollination and fertilization takes place in nature… everything is in balance.
Let you and I be in balance with our differences.
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youhearstatic · 6 years
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lovesick
(Hanahaki preview/prologue scene)
Marlena pulled the door to her brother’s room shut behind her, the latch catching with a soft click. She sagged against the door frame, exhausted.
“Mom?”
Jerking her head up, she saw her son peering out of his doorway, rubbing sleepy eyes. “Go back to bed, sweetheart, it’s late.”
“Is Uncle Darian gonna be okay?”
Marlena sighed. She’d been trying to avoid this topic in her own head but now, at 4 o’clock in the morning, it seemed she was going to have the conversation with her six year old.
“Let’s get you tucked back in bed and we’ll talk about it.” She crossed the hall and pushed the door wide, letting the light from the hallway illuminate the bedroom rather than turning on the light.
Barry climbed into bed and she helped him arrange the blankets again. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the hair back from his worried forehead.
“Uncle Darry is really sick,” she told him honestly. “And he’s not going to get better.”
“The flowers are hurting him?”
Marlena nodded. “The flowers are… Uncle Darian loves someone very much, someone who doesn’t love him back and…”
“Why not?”
“Why not what?”
“Why don’t they love him back? Can’t we ask? Make them?”
“Oh, sweetie... Well, sometimes people just don’t. It’s nobody’s fault. It’s not that man’s fault that he doesn’t love Darian and it’s not Darian’s fault for loving him. He just does and… well, it’s like his body doesn’t know what to do with all this love. So it makes flowers. But there’s too many and… they make it hard to breathe. And eventually he won’t be able to at all.”
“Like he’s swimming?”
“Yeah, like he’s underwater,” she agreed. “But for now he’s still here and we can love him and spend time with him.” She ruffled his hair and added, “And draw him pictures. And tell him about cool frogs.”
“And read my space book to him?”
“Absolutely, he’d love that. He’s the one that bought it for you.”
“I’ll read it to him tomorrow!” Barry’s smile was overtaken by a yawn. He turned over on his side and pulled the covers up to his chin.
“G’night, sweetie.”
“‘Night, momma,” he answered, voice already softened by sleepiness.
Marlena smoothed the blanket over his shoulder. Barry was so much like his uncle. They both loved so enthusiastically, throwing their whole hearts into it. She hoped when Barry found love it came back to him.
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ama-kuu · 3 years
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Alpha Hawks&Dabi X Omega Reader
You were walking back into the lobby of Hawks apartment building after making a quick snack run while he was at work. As an omega, since being claimed by Hawks and Dabi you rarely ever left the apartment on your own. More commonly being carried and flown by Hawks between their living spaces, it was easier to protect you that way. It wasn’t safe just yet to have everyone move in together since Dabi was a well known villain and constantly changing locations. Hawks kept one of his feather charms on both you and Dabi to be able to keep your little family together no matter the distances between you. Also making it easier to keep track of Dabi with him moving around so often.
As you moved through the lobby towards the elevator you noticed an unfamiliar male wandering around the room desperately trying to read a poorly drawn map. You weren’t far from your heat but felt pity for the male. He was far enough away that it was difficult to scent his secondary sex, if you keep this distance it you could probably help point him in the right direction without revealing that you were an omega. Even after being claimed, it was still dangerous for you to be out without either of your alphas at your side.
“Excuse me… Do you need any help with directions? You look lost?”
“Oh why yes, I’m sorry to trouble you, I’m looking for XXXXX apartment complex but I think I ended up at the wrong place” He perked up immediately, looking harmless.
“Oh yea, I know that place. It’s about 2 blocks down from here, large glass front doors you can’t miss.” You gestured in the direction and stepped back to the elevator buttons.
“Thank you so much little missy, there must be some way for me to return the favor.” He took a few steps forward, causing you to begin to panic. But there was no more space for you to step away with you back already against the wall.
You immediately declined his offer shrinking into yourself. “No it's fine, please…”
“No I insist, a coffee perhaps?” A few more steps and he stopped suddenly taking in a large breath. His pupils enlarge any you know you are in trouble! Fuck, he must be able to smell your heat.
The man lunges for you, reaching his arms out to latch onto your arm. You duck under him and race for the front doors. You don’t make it far before getting harshly yanked back. You yelp out loud, feeling your poor shoulder pop and strain against his rough treatment.
“NO! Let GO!” You twist and struggle against his grin on you. Your eyes begin to burn with tears as he grabs the collar of your shirt and shoves you down on the ground. The scent of your own distress chokes your senses, throwing you further into a state of panic. Thrashing and whimpering under him you scream for your alphas.
Your stomach lurches and bile rises up when the unfamiliar male forces his face down on your neck rubbing his filthy scent on you, his hands simultaneously pawing at your sex.
But in a second he is gone. Blasted back by a gust of a powerful wing. Thank god, your alpha must have been close by. Hawks was furious, crouching protectively over you with his wings widely spread out threatening the male. You were frozen in place, fear had seized your body and you were having trouble regaining control. Even with his reassuring presence
“Kei..” You whimpered. Slowly reaching up to him with trembling limbs.
Keigo reached down cradling you into his arms, he held your head to his neck allowing his scent to wash over you as he attempted to calm you down.
Keigo hushed and embraced your trembling form in his hold. He was seething, how dare that male even look at this omega! He was on the edge of giving into his anger when you spoke up.
“Please Kei, can we go… I.. I wanna be with both of my alphas.” Head buried into his jacket collar, inhaling his scent with undertones on Dabi.
Keigo took a deep breath to get better control of himself. Ready to rip the other male apart, but choosing to yield and soothe his terrified omega. “Shhh, it's gonna be okay baby bird.” He gently stroked the back of your head. Looking back at the frightened male, Hawks got a very good look at the man, taking in all the small details. He spun on his heels, holding you tighter to him as he took to the sky heading straight for Dabi.
Keigo knew you needed both of them right now, even with his embrace the tremors in your body persisted. He squeezed you tighter to him as he picked up speed, doing his best to protect you from the winds whipping around.
…………………………………………………………………………………………
Keigo and you arrive at Dabi’s current run down apartment. Dabi could sense Hawks approaching fast with you. He stood suddenly to race to the windows, opening them up for Hawks to land.
Hawks’ boots connect hard with the floor, jostling you awake. Dabi quickly rushes over to you. “What the HELL happened?” His nostrils flare at the scent distress clouded around you. Quickly reaching to snatch you from Hawks’ arms.
Sensing your other alpha, you practically jump into his arms. Holding yourself against him, craving his scent to mingle with Keigo’s and erase the foreign male’s essence.
Dabi bristles at the unknown male he can smell all over you. A growl erupting from deep in his chest, “I SAID, what the HELL HAPPENED?!”. His anger redirected to Hawks standing a few steps away.
You visibly flinched from Dabi screaming at Keigo. Keigo was just as furious with himself that he wasn’t there for you to prevent it from happening at all. But seeing you become more distressed, the trembling getting worse with your alpha snarling at each other. Keigo slowly stalked up close to Dabi’s ear whispering something you couldn’t quite catch. Keigo’s wings surrounded everyone washing his calming scent throughout the room. Dabi’s shoulders relaxed.
Keigo was the next to speak up, “Dabi get Y/n into the shower, we can talk once they are taken care of”. A few feathers detaching to get the bathroom ready and lightly nudging Dabi towards that direction.
Dabi allowed the feathers to direct him as he breathed you in, using your scent to control his anger. You were safe now, he would make sure of that, both your alphas were here for you.
Keigo closed the window and then turned to follow after you and Dabi.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………
Dabi didn’t skip a beat, stripping both himself and you in an instance. Warm water washed over you as the shaking started to subside. Dabi gently nibbled on your neck, causing you to remember that your heat was nearly here. You groaned against him, your hands seductively running down his chest, slowing down to stoke the marred skin lined with piercings.
“Well well little mouse, what do we have here? Looks like your heat is happening ahead of schedule.” You wrapped your legs around his waist, his hard bulge rubbing against your rear. Dabi stepped forward to compress you against the bathroom wall. But to your surprise, it wasn’t the wall, instead the firm very naked body of Keigo.
Keigo’s hands embraced you from behind, purred into your ear, “ I guess you’ll be pretty busy for the next week.”
Dabi’s canines scraped against your skin, pulling a moan out of you. With the shower water washing away any and all evidence of the other male, your senses were now flooding with the pheromones being released from your alphas. You dropped your head back onto Keigo meeting his lips with your own as you lifted your hands up over your head to tangle into his damp blonde tresses.
You opened up for him allowing his tongue to tangle with your own. His hands rose up to grope and kneaded at your breasts. Dabi rutted against you, and bit down harder into your shoulder, causing you to whimper, only to be swallowed hungrily by Keigo.
Your heat was making it hard for you to think about anything other than the men embracing you. The shower steam wasn’t helping, your body felt like it was going to overheat, you broke from the kiss and began to pant. Keigo’s feathers rippled, sensing your discomfort and quickly shut the water off, pulling you from Dabi’s arms. Dabi growled at Keigo, Keigo unfazed blocked you from his view using his wings, taunting the other alpha. No words were exchanged as Keigo carried you to your shared bedroom.
You nuzzled into Keigo’s chest, listening to Dabi’s footsteps in tow. You were finally calm, your alphas here with you always.
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fedzkun · 3 years
Text
Villain Hunt Arc Meta: All For One’s Horrific Guide to Methodically Breaking Down Your Local OFA Holder
Ft. Turning the ‘Overpoweredness’ of OFA into a Setback, and AFO’s Successful Manipulations Of Midoriya Izuku
In which I also give AFO too much credit for all the pain he’s probably caused, and theorize that his plans to break Izuku actually started getting enacted even before he’d escaped Tartarus.
(A.k.a. me loving the angst because this is really good angst writing, but also hating it because the manga doesn’t come with a Angst with A Happy Ending tag unless you count Izuku’s ‘this is the story of how I became the greatest hero’ which isn’t really a guarantee of happiness )
So. What an arc! In the span of ten chapters (starting from the end of the War arc) Hori delivered a full-on Villain-looking, Vigilante Midoriya Izuku. Congratulations, Horikoshi, for finally introducing Akatani Mikumo!
The fast pacing and lack of breather panels are so fitting for this arc truly. AFO never gave them a moment’s rest. Yes, from henceforth as he’d promised... It’s always going to be his turn.
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Izuku is making amazing progress with unlocking the full power of One For All. In his words, his abilities might as well already be on par with what a healthier All Might could do, and with no recoil to boot. Plus, there’s only one last quirk to unlock. For villain fights, I don’t think we need to worry about him losing, or him breaking anymore bones at this time.
Which, some might argue, makes Izuku too ‘OP.’
To start with, I want to talk first about the ‘overpoweredness’ of the One For All quirk. It’s a wonderful quirk truly, having inspired and amazed so many because of its sheer power. Used well, it could grant instant victories and restore the people’s wavering faith to the heroes. Because with a quirk like that on your side, everything’s going to be alright, right? There’s always gonna be that bit of hope that something is still strong enough to stand against the looming evil...right?
Yeah. That’s what the people who’d lived under All Might’s Era of Peace thought so too. History repeats.
OFA’s ‘OP-ness’ is both a great blessing and a great burden.
Here are some points on how the narrative has made OFA's 'overpoweredness' a setback:
1. All For One—that bastard—exploits the urge that comes with OFA. Just as ‘AFO the quirk’s’ goal is to steal OFA, OFA’s job is to defeat AFO, and Izuku is sacrificing himself to its cause.
Here’s another thing I want to point out: The conclusion that the heroes drew about AFO planning to capture Midoriya Izuku alive? In rereading, I’m starting to believe it’s nothing but a mere assumption of his plans. Aside from the deal made with Lady Nagant—of which I think AFO didn’t take seriously anyway and set her up for failure— (and while we as readers are already aware of his true intentions to wear Izuku down) it’s weird that nowhere had AFO directly mentioned to Izuku that he’s going to kidnap him and take his quirk from him.
2. OFA made Izuku so brilliant (e.g. Pros and former Pros alike going “This kid...”) that they really can't help but place all their hopes on him. Sighs. In an ideal world, this would be a dream come true of Izuku getting his due credit for all his heroic achievements Pro heroes have started to do to Izuku what they’ve done all their lives to All Might--which is to put him on the pedestal, while they fall back to cover him like guards/safety net. Hence, falling back to the One Pillar Model mindset.
3. OFA makes Izuku untouchable, not only to the villains, but also to his allies. Prime material to reinforce isolation. And if Izuku doesn't want to be caught, he won't make it easy for either side.
4. OFA IS SUS AF, OKAY? What are the Holders doing?! While gaining access to them makes it easier and convenient to have personal trainers in handling OFA, the vestiges prove to add a lot to Izuku’s mental load. If they’d allowed Izuku to come to the point of being caked with blood and filth, they’re not doing very well at guiding him. Realize that most of their arc interactions with Izuku is Quirk Talk. They, of all people, should know how AFO’s machinations work! Hey First, for the love of god, warn Izuku! He’s showing so many signs of being manipulated that you should be picking up on. please /sobs ;;
Tbf, like, I’m pretty sure that the Holders haven’t been as mentally okay either, which would feed into Izuku’s current mindset.
Now that the setbacks have been listed, let’s dive in to AFO’s plans to toy with Midoriya Izuku.
PHASE 1: Pre-Tartarus Breakout
Speaking of OFA being sus, there’s something that has been niggling at the back of my mind.
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All For One basically tells Izuku: “You were my main interest that entire time I was in prison”. So, to pass the time in Tartarus (since he can’t use any(?) of his quirks), AFO has been doing nothing but apparently daydreaming and designing a personal hell for the Ninth Holder during that entire period. HOWEVER, it also made me wonder…
…Even before he’d broken out, had AFO made any moves at all in enacting his plans to break Izuku?
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Yeah?
And here’s the kicker: he says that before Blackwhip bursted out.
AFO is a master manipulator. Assuming that Izuku doesn’t have any latent AFO quirk (for whatever reason *coughs* maybe dfo if you're a believer) or that Quirk Singularity has anything to do with it, what is the trigger to Izuku suddenly having access to Blackwhip?
I’d argue that it is All For One himself.
Why? What’s his goal? If you notice during the Joint Training arc, Izuku is feeling pretty confident about his progress. He’s rather happy and feeling blessed, and he is making leaps and bounds with base power OFA.
AFO can’t have that. He can’t allow the Ninth Holder to become too emotionally stable, or else he’d have a stronger will. So by somehow activating Blackwhip, AFO makes Izuku feel like he hasn’t made any progress with his quirk at all. During the evaluations, Izuku mentions that he still needs a lot to work on, and while not all of it is visible, with the way he behaves, it’s pretty evident that his self-confidence has taken a rather large hit.
But, wait! If AFO had tampered with OFA during the JT arc, paving the way to unlocking the rest (like he’d also done during the War arc when he tried to ‘steal’ it then), then wouldn’t AFO be sabotaging himself since he’d be making Izuku a more formidable opponent?
Sure. Except that the quirks inside OFA are mostly useless when it comes to the mental part of the fighting. The only thing they’re useful for is for the current Holder to be able to play keep-away in the physical realm. And AFO could easily just find counters for those through his work on Tomura.
You know how else the situation becomes advantageous for AFO? With every quirk unlocked, Izuku’s goalposts keep on getting away from him, and Izuku will always feel like he isn’t ready or prepared enough. Izuku will push and push himself to master OFA to its fullest, to become more powerful, at the cost of his mental/emotional stability and physical wellbeing as he wears himself down.
And every time Izuku grew more powerful, and became more ‘OP,’ he is burdened with all the aforementioned setbacks that came with it. He could be the most powerful person in the world, but it’s all for naught if he doesn’t take care of himself. This plan is both a high risk and high reward on AFO’s part, and as of the moment, with a bloody Izuku staggering all over, AFO is visibly reaping these high rewards.
PHASE 2: Post-Tartarus Breakout
He’s going to toy with Izuku until Izuku fucking breaks. What follows is his series of actions that instills the desired responses from Midoriya Izuku. Let’s see how the master manipulator plays this game of chess, shall we?
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Izuku’s plan: Reach out to villains and try to save them.
AFO’s counter: Kill off those who turn their back against villainy and/or acknowledge Izuku as a true hero.
Izuku’s resulting response: Stop reaching out to villains. Gain an instant victory and move on.
After all, what do you get when you block a hero from showing sympathy? You get an unfeeling living weapon.
---
Izuku’s plan: Work with the top pro heroes to bring down AFO.
AFO’s counter: Make plans that will serve to highlight how the top pros are just slowing Izuku down. (e.g. Making moves while it’s raining, so as to divide them, but also to bring out No. 1 Hero Endeavor’s "slowness" in the rain. Nope, I don’t think that’s a throwaway line at all.)
Izuku’s resulting response: Grows more reckless, often leading the charge.
---
Izuku’s plan: Track AFO down.
AFO’s counter: Lead them to dead-ends. Or when they do supposedly reach something, endanger them.
Izuku’s resulting response: His tunnel vision worsens, as he grows more desperate.
---
Izuku’s plan: All Might following him around is okay since it would help All Might from worrying so much, and Izuku could simultaneously keep an eye on and protect All Might.
AFO’s counters: There are a lot to really fuck with this bond, damn you AFO.
Taint that passing the torch memory of ‘You’re Next.’
Declare that All Might no longer interests him. Liar. He outright stated before that he’s one for keeping a grudge
Send another assassin to Izuku [Underlying Message: You yourself are a walking danger zone to those whom you dearly care for.]
Izuku’s resulting response:
Interpret that memory of ‘You’re Next’ as taking up the position of being AFO’s shiny new plaything, and therefore supposedly sparing All Might from the torment (Unfortunately, making Izuku push AM away is just part of the torment ;A;)
Think that AM is no longer in the direct line of fire as long as AFO focuses on Izuku
Finally, push his last line of morale support away, and completely isolate himself.
Btw, I wonder how All Might feels about Izuku using Nana's quirk to get away from him.
---
The suffering doesn’t end.
Izuku’s plan: Save people.
AFO’s counters: (possibly offscreen) Send more villains and assassins to torment Izuku some more with the knowledge that he can’t save them. Sending villains out also puts innocents in danger.
Izuku’s resulting response: He won’t stop for anything. He won’t sleep, won’t eat, won’t slow down. He will always do his best to save as long as someone is in danger.
His body will keep on moving and moving and MOVING on its own.
--- All For One is very effective as a supervillain. He has managed to make the heroes think that his only goal is to capture Izuku alive for his quirk. He has Izuku right where he wants him: dancing to his tune at the palm of his hand, utterly toyed with, left with no escape in sight.
Psychologically vaulted.
.
.
.
PHASE 3
And so, if Izuku is being manipulated to drive himself further and further into self-destruction, what then is there left for All For One to do?
So much more. Because, my god, I think AFO has mastered the art of traumatizing the OFA Holders.
All For One once told All Might, “I will destroy all that you’ve protected.” And boy, is he delivering. He's definitely not done with AM btw.
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First, he destroys All Might's image. And he is manipulating Izuku to drive himself to that point. To looking into his absolute worst.
And when that point arrives, AFO will hammer the final nail home.
Something like...
BEHOLD
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JAPAN’S SYMBOL OF PEACE.
And oh, how it'll hurt. To see All Might's pride and joy be flaunted about as looking nothing like a hero to the masses, for him to be so utterly humiliated.
"See what I did to All Might's successor."
AFO will be banking upon the possibility that the angry masses will not want to be saved by whom they're tricked into viewing as someone that's the cause of all the pain. Izuku might have the willpower to stay true to his resolve, but with him on the verge of total breakdown, what would happen when he is shunned by the very people he is trying to help?
I once wrote a post about how the current events seem to be a bastardization of Izuku's wildest fantasies: he's working with the top pros, he has the most powerful quirk, and he's working with All Might (whom technically acts as a sidekick to him rn).
AFO has warped all that into a never-ending nightmare. And Izuku...
Izuku is really in need of saving.
Last thoughts:
Let me just say that it shouldn't be a competition about who gets to get through to Izuku. Right now, he’s gonna need all the help he can get, and it can’t be delivered by only one or two people. Saving Izuku is going to be a team effort, a solid support system that sees Izuku as their classmate/friend/student/actual person that they care about. And there’s sufficient space for that.
More hands reaching out means more chances to catch him if he falls.
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batwritings · 3 years
Note
I know I sent in something earlier- but I can't stop thinking about this (also if this makes you uncomfortable I apologize- you don't have to write it)
Dream and Sapnap and they're sharing the reader and theyre degrading and praising the reader, giving them commands over a video call- slowly making the reader their slut- and so it slowly becomes a regular thing where they all call and just go at it
being shared over a call by sap and dream > literally anything else
there's just something about being shared by them just seems so hot to me- is that bad?????also I apologize again for having sending in alot of asks- I just have smut brainrot (specifically sapnap)
-🦔
....hot damn! You’re on fire today!! Legit if you ever want to simp over this man, hmu my discord is in a previous ask (or you could message me on here but only if you’re comfortable!). Enjoy~!
Warning! There will be some degradation and talk of subspace in here! Please be careful when reading!!
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Your breath came in heavy pants as you followed the instructions from the two men in your ears. You’re watching the two men watching you back as your one hand was rubbing furiously over your sex. Your other was stroking along your neck, pretending it was Dream’s. You were so, so close to your orgasm you could almost taste it.
“Slow down slut,” came Dream’s voice, hard and commanding. “Not going to have you cumming this early, or without permission.”
Reluctantly, the hand that was touching your sex slowed to an agonizing pace. You knew the punishment you would get if you disobeyed, and while it was honestly so damn tempting, you knew better.
“So good for us,” sang Sapnap’s praise. “So sweet and obedient.”
“Th-thank you sirs,” you slur out, getting delirious from how much they had edged you over the course of the better part of an hour.
“As they should be,” Dream spat, watching you intently for any sign of deviation. “Whores like them only know how to beg and obey. Isn’t that right Y/N?”
You whine at his words, adoring the degradation along with the praise. “Yes Sir,” you respond weakly.
Dream smirks and nods. “Faster.”
Immediately your speed picks up, hand tightening along your throat. You could feel your orgasm tingling along your spine. It was taking all your mental capacity for you to even find the words, but you eventually sputter out, “Gonna cum. Please. Can I?”
Dream hums in fake contemplation. “That’s all that’s on your mind isn’t it?” he says with a disgusted tone. “Pathetic. But I suppose it can’t be helped. What do you think Sapnap?”
“I think we should let them,” he says, slowly stroking his own member. “They’re so pretty when they cum. And they have been pretty good.”
You’re barely holding on at this point, forcing your climax back by sheer will.
Finally, Dream clicks his tongue and looks you dead in the eyes over the computer screen. “Fine, fine,” he sighs. “Cum for us you stupid whore.”
Your end hits you like a freight train, nearly knocking the wind out of you as you cry out in pleasure. Your whole body tightens in on itself in your computer chair as you ride out your orgasm, barely having the mind to follow Dream’s instruction of tightening your hold on your neck. The praise from Sapnap is a mere fuzz in your ear as you collapse back, panting heavily.
“I hope you don’t think you’re done,” Dream’s harsh words cut through the fog in your brain and you lift your eyes to look at him properly. “That was round one. Go get the present I so kindly got you.”
You nod, shakily standing from your chair to retrieve the box that had come earlier that day. Inside was a lovely little vibe, but no remote. You pulled the tag keeping it from being tested and brought it back to your desk.
“Put it inside for us sugar,” Sapnap asks kindly and you do so.
Before you can begin to question them you feel the toy turn on, at what had to have been the highest setting. All the air feels like it’s pulled from your lungs, a bit of pain mixing with the pleasure. You tear your bleary eyes open to see both boys fiddling with their phones on your screen. Oh. There’s the remote...er, remotes.
“Surprised?” Dream asks with a knowing smirk. “We figured you’d deserve some form of reward, for a lowly slut that is.”
You moan loudly at his words, babbling out a string of curses mixed with “thank you sirs”.
“Aw,” Sapnap coos, breathing a little quicker now. He lowers the setting from his end to watch you squirm as he strokes himself. “You’re so cute Y/N. Love it when you get to feel good because of us.”
You whine from the lack of friction only to nearly screech when Dream turns the toy back up again. They keep you like this for a while, letting you ride the waves of overstimulation and pleasure as they turn the levels up and down. Finally your second climax starts to creep up on you and you beg in a mess of words for your release.
“Cum for us babe,” Sapnap says this time, breathless. “You can cum with me, yeah?” Sure enough the two of you hit your orgasms nearly simultaneously, you nearly bending over with how much pleasure was drilled into you as Dream cranked the level on your vibe.
You’re incoherent when you feel it still going, so you tap on your table twice. All at once sensation stops and even Sapnap’s heavy panting slows to a near halt. “If you can talk, can you give me a color baby?” you hear Dream ask quietly.
It takes a few beats, but you finally mutter a soft, “Red”.
All sternness and venom is gone from Dream’s voice then, him working with Sapnap to praise you on how well you did for them. They’re so quiet and gentle with their words you just might cry as they work you out of subspace slowly. You really were lucky to have them.
838 notes · View notes
dorimena · 3 years
Note
Hi, I love your work and if your requests are open would you consider the following?
Monoma is on patrol with y/n and Monoma being well....Monoma, he was horny and was teasing y/n. Not having any of this shit, she proceeds to dom the fuck out of him during patrol. She takes him into an alleyway and fucks him with a strap that she had on her already (she was already planning on something but didn’t go through with it because work is work and she’s aware that Monoma and her could take their time when they got home). She pushes him into the wall and fucks him silly. Monoma is loving it and keeps begging “Mommy fuck me more, please!”. She gives him what he wants but she tells him to be quiet or else the bystanders would fine their great Phantom Thief in a puddle of his own cum while getting fucked by his mommy. At some point two civilians hear Monoma panting and hiccuping and get concerned. Y/n keeps fucking him and reassures them that Phantom Thief is fine. He cums then and there and she tells him to reassure the civilians that he’s ok. Monoma whimpers out that he’s fine and y/n cleans him up and cuddles him in the alleyway telling him how much of a good boy he was.
(I’ve been thinking about this ever since I read your shower blowjob story. This man makes the dom in me go crazy. He’s already a whining bitch, having him be like that in the bedroom just- 😫)
Let me say that I’ve had a scene in my head almost the same as this one you sent me and I am absolutely thrilled because yessss more attention to bratty baby Monoma ٩(♡ε♡)۶
And honestly, this man is just asking for it. Bet he wants to fucked anywhere, anytime, as long as he's put back into his place. That's his kink-
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𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Monoma Neito
𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 3.5k
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, pegging, mommy kink, slight exhibitionism, public sex, mentioned sex toy (butt plug), implied overstimulation, multiple orgasms, implied after care, domme!reader, sub!character
𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; begging, humiliation, Monoma being a little shit, because he wanted your attention, and to rile the fuck out of you, aged-up character: Monoma is 20+
𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; I unknowingly kind of changed a few things from the ask, like the conversation between Monoma and the bystanders, but I hope you like it anon! The ending is kind of rushed, sorry about that!
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𝕭𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖎𝖘 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐
“Now, now, y/n, you know ignoring someone, specifically the love of your life, is a crime? How else are you to beg for my love if you go on and ignore my graceful presence? Are you listening to me? At least lend me your attention.”
He’s been like this for the past couple of hours since you’ve both been assigned together for patrol. You thought it’d be a good idea, and Monoma was also excited when your boss told you both to get ready and head to the neighborhood you’re meant to keep a watch over.
The neighborhood turned out not as empty or quiet as you expected, rather close to a busy street. Some stores and restaurants seem to align themselves around this area.
You thought things would go smoothly, go even better and much quicker now that you and your boyfriend are finally patrolling together, months since you’ve transferred to this agency from your old one.
But Monoma’s been leaving any and every snide remark since you two stepped foot into the area, teasing you for any small mistake he believes should be (loudly) called out for or simply trying to mess up your way of doing things.
You don’t even want to count how many times he’s criticized the way your hero outfit currently looks on you. And no, you’re not getting insecure, but rather more… cautious.
There’s a reason why the uniform seems a bit odd around your crotch, but he doesn’t need to know that, not here, not now. Maybe until you both get home-
You trip, almost falling flat on your face if it weren’t for your boyfriend quickly grabbing you, pulling you up to your feet as he looks at you with panic before it quickly dissipates to his stupid mockery.
“See? You cannot do anything right, not without me at least. You, my dear, cannot live without me yet you still ignored me. This is what I mean when you should listen to me. Anyone would truly be grateful for having me, Phantom Thief, as their beloved lover.”
That’s it. You usually can take so much of his weird comments, but right now he’s pulling anything out of his ass at this point. (Soon you’ll see what actually comes out.)
You don’t answer, just look around to make sure no one is watching as you grab him by his stupid tie, dragging him to the nearest alleyway you remember passing by, glad it’s still pretty empty and dark enough to hide your bodies in the shadows.
He isn’t even struggling, just letting you walk him as if he’s a dog, quietly following you. If you were to turn around, you’d see the way his eyes are wide yet full of lust, his pupils dilated as he mentally cheers, thanking the gods for listening to his horny prayers of being sucked in an alleyway.
Do you know how hard it was for him to not jump you and beg you to help him? All because of how sexy you look in your hero outfit, how the small fixes and modifications bring out more of your body, the body he loves, yearns, desires, every day and night. Hopefully you don’t find his surprise before he can debut it once you guys are back home. (But unintentionally came prepared.)
He’s a complete fool for you, but you can’t know that, or else it’ll be the end of-
“Monoma Neito. You have 5 seconds to tell me why the fuck you’re being a piece of shit tonight.”
He didn’t realize his back is against a cold wall or how you’ve trapped him between your arms, the way you’re glaring at him while counting down in such a low tone, it makes his legs feel weak and threaten to buckle..
“Horny.” He barely whispers, crazed eyes never leaving your face as he stays still, trying to control his breathing and heartbeat as you scan him from head to toe, eyes finally staying in place where his boner is visible, even with how poor the lighting is.
You grin, but not your usual friendly grin or familiar flirty grin, but the ‘I’m gonna fuck you till you die’ kind of grin.
And Monoma’s both terrified yet super, duper much more hornier than before. But, with what are you going to fuck him with?
In a flash, he’s suddenly turned around, his clothed-covered chest pressing against the wall as he feels your hands make quick work on his belt, on his pants, pulling them down to rest on his thighs. He hisses and shivers when the cold air hits every exposed part of him, yet makes his dick twitch in interest.
You also free your bottom half to finally let out the strap on you’ve luckily managed to hide until now, searching your pockets for the small tube of lube you brought with you, just in case.
But when you spread his butt cheeks, you gasp in surprise with the butt plug he’s wearing, going to grab the toy as you slowly pull it out in disbelief.
Did he know?
“I-I want you to know you’re not the, um, only one to be prepared for what they want.” Monoma speaks, but in such a soft tone that it has you wondering if he’s the same person who had pestered you since the beginning of the patrol, the same boyfriend you love who has a talent for being loved and hated simultaneously by various people.
But at least he didn’t know. He simply decided to take this extra mile.
Cute. No wonder he’s such a good boy for mommy… sometimes.
“Then I guess I shouldn’t prepare you, right?”
You don’t wait for his response, not when you dispose of the toy away from you both, and you make quick work to lube up your silicone cock.
Monoma doesn’t get to ask you about the wet sounds behind him, or ask where you threw his butt plug before you’re entering him. You felt how his body jolted, his back arching enough to push his ass back more towards you.
You land a smack against the smooth skin, listening how the impact echoes in the empty alleyway and the way he whimpers in pain.
“You’re such a slut for mommy, aren’t you Monoma?”
“Yes!”
No hesitation.
Monoma usually sounds hesitant whenever you two do something new, as if he evaluates the pros and cons from anything and everything, figuring out if he’ll come out benefitted or you.
But he sounds desperate, shameless. He sounds like he’s ready to cry.
New, but not too surprising. When he wants to, he’ll always be a good boy for his mommy.
“Want to tell mommy again why you were being a little bitch tonight?”
Never mind, his hesitation came back, his mouth pressed shut as you peek at him, trying to catch a glimpse at his periwinkle eyes, wondering what’s taking him so long to answer. He answered you so easily, so quickly a few minutes ago.
You hear a soft mumble, see his lips move but no sound gets to your ears. So you spank him once more, hearing his cute squeak and the way he fucks back.
“Louder.”
“I wanted mommy to fuck me! Fuck me until I can’t walk! Fuck me until I’m just your stupid little hole! Please? I’ll-I’ll be good now, I promise!”
If anyone were to ask you just how stupid Monoma gets when he’s completely horny and turned on, this is a prime example. His usual eloquent vocabulary? Gone. It doesn’t exist once mommy’s pleasing him.
But he’s also promising about being good? Let’s see how good he’ll be then.
No more words are exchanged, just the soft desperate pants of the pretty blond and some small airy whines that leave his mouth in anticipation for what you’ll do next.
You don’t even start slow, you go absolutely feral.
He barely gets to inhale one last deep breath until you’re fucking that out of his lungs, his head turning to look back at you as best he could as his body begins hitting the wall in front of him, his clothes rubbing against the roughness of the bricked exterior of the unknown building. He lifts head enough to not get itself hit against the wall and his hands are clawing at the bricks desperately, trying to find leverage to hold on tightly, his brain struggling to catch up with how vicious yet delicious you’re fucking him.
When he does remember he’s a human who can speak words, he cries out “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” in such high pitches, it sounds like he’s singing, probably trying to continue seducing you into such a horny haze. His pent-up sexual frustration must have been infectious, with how you find yourself being merciless with him and his ass, your hips slamming into the back of his in such a brutal pace you wonder if the skin will bruise, if he’ll be able to sit or walk properly.
Probably not, but that’s the point, isn’t it?
Your baby boy wanted you to fuck the living shit out of him, so that’s what you’ll do, it’s what you’re best at doing.
Fuck the annoyance out of him so that when you guys get home, he passes out.
You momentarily forget you guys are very much still in public and even if it’s night, civilians are very much still awake and walking, either going back home or going to work, maybe hang out with their friends or find themselves a sub to fuck.
Monoma doesn’t even warn you that he’s cumming, not even his loud, prolonged whine of your name gets your attention. But with how he’s spasming around your toy, how his hips are twitching quickly in between your hands, his eyes that never left from looking at you crossing…
Yeah, since you missed that orgasm and you’re not in the mood to exactly punish him, why not fuck him some more until he can’t remember his name and only yours?
You briefly pause, the tip of the toy the only thing still inside of him as one of your hands rubs circles on his lower back and the other remains on his hip.
Through the panting, Monoma lets out a whine, one that sounds almost disappointed. Probably because he came far quicker than what either of you two expected, or because it feels like you’re pulling out already and calling it a night.
No words are exchanged as you watch him catch his breath for a bit more, memorizing how rosy his cheeks and nose look, how the blush looks like it’s on his neck while his white pupils are fully dilated, oozing his adoration for you.
When you hear him suck in a breath, whether he’s preparing a sentence or to finish pulling himself off the toy, you slam back into him, grinning like a maniac upon feeling how his whole body jumped, going back into action and having blood pump everywhere in him, mostly towards his reawakening dick.
And you slam, slam, slam, slamming into him at such a steady pace, making sure to roll your hips the way you know will make him start squealing in such a girly tone, or like a dirty pig he sometimes becomes.
And once you feel him begin to push back on you and one of his hands leave the wall, you lean forward, pushing his body more up on the wall. He’s bent too much, it’s obvious you’re fucking him doggy style. What if people decide to go through this alley?
He obeys but whines in complaint, not wanting you to stop your ministrations as he pulls himself together, standing up as much as he could as to leave his lower back still bent for you.
“Keep your hands on the wall or else I’ll leave you here like this.”
He loves it when you speak to him in such a low voice, in such a way that you know makes him want to suck your cock for days until his jaw hurts. He puts his hands back on the wall, both placed where his face is at, acting as support as he rests his forehead there. His neck hurts a bit from how long he’s been straining to look at you.
You go back to fucking him, going back to what you were doing, moaning his name repeatedly to keep riling him up, arouse him and make him start begging for you to go faster, harder, deeper, make him dirty.
And he does with loud wails, ones that have you freezing and stopping all together, slapping a hand on his mouth and whispering how he should quiet down, unless he wants to be whored to other people.
“Be mommy’s good boy and keep quiet. Unless you want someone else’s cock.”
“No! No muh-mommy! Only y-yours~ Please!” He moans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he impatiently grinds against you, feeling how sticky his thighs are getting with sweat and some of his cum and precum, somehow.
“Mommy, fuck me more, please!” He whimpers so cutely, so pathetically, so melodically you’re sure he somehow copied someone’s siren quirk, because your head feels dizzy, your heart is beating erratically and your hips sync with the pulse, forgetting about being consistent with speed, with roughness, with how deep you reach inside of him.
Fucking him silly until he’s trying his best to muffle his screams and cries into the back of his hands pressed on the wall, his fingers trying so hard to find solace on them, to grasp the reality of him being defiled in an empty, dirty alleyway, pressed so ruthlessly against a wall he doesn’t know how exactly dirty it could be.
Monoma’s hiccuping your name until you spank him, growling softly how that’s not who you are, making him wail out “Mommy! Cumming!” in such an erotic way, you wonder if you’re fucking your boyfriend or a girl with how he’s managed to reach such an incredible pitch.
You keep going, and even when he’s done cumming, you don’t stop impaling him, and a hand goes to wrap itself around his dick, trying your best to match this chaotic fucking, hearing how he’s struggling to breath, to comprehend this painful yet electrifying pleasure.
His toes are curling in his shoes, his knees don’t stop buckling, his hips never stop trying to meet with yours, the burn of overstimulation flowing through his veins yet motivating his dick to keep going, to keep obeying, to not disappoint mommy.
Monoma’s speaking gibberish, babbling whatever nonsense and begging he could think of or come to make up, the tips of his fingers turning white with how hard they’re pressing against the bricks as he tries to not fall. He’s not sure how or why he’d fall, but with how you’re touching him, squeezing him, stroking him, playing with him, he’s ready to give into the inquiry of whether being a househusband would have you fucking him like this everyday.
It’s a weird thought, one he’s never had before, one that’s still early to even care about-
Oh my god you’re abusing his prostate!
He’s seeing stars, planets, flashing strobe lights and envisioning his uproaring third orgasm, mouth hung open stupidly as whiny sobs and strangled cries escape him, trying his best to keep quiet like you said but he can’t!
“Feels s’ good!” He slurs, once again turning his head to look at you, eyes completely wet as tears fall in graceful droplets, hair messed up and drool staining a bit of his chin.
And just as you were going to respond, you heard footsteps.
You both freeze: you’re halfway out of him while Monoma’s struggling to not let his coughing fit be heard, having swallowed his saliva far too quickly with the scare.
The sounds stop, but now you both can hear a female voice.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
Monoma whimpers, embarrassed.
So this is how he’ll get caught and shamed.
This is the end of his career.
But you’re not having it, not with how his dick has stopped twitching and is starting to soften.
You’re not done yet, and neither is he.
“Answer, Monoma.” You harshly whisper, wiping your thumb over his hypersensitive tip, making him hiccup loudly before composing himself as best he could.
“Y-yes? It-It is I, Phantom Thief- ooh~”
Another voice pitches in.
“Phantom Thief? The Phantom Thief?!”
“Y-Yes!” Monoma squeaks out, trying to cover up his gasp as you begin to slowly fuck him, making sure to keep hitting him straight to the prostate, amused how he’s gripping his jaw, muffling his hiccups while frantically shaking his head, begging you with his eyes to no, no, please!
The two bystanders gasp, seemingly walking more towards where you and Monoma are, making you press him more into the wall, hoping the angle you’re both in and the small hiding spot is enough to keep you hidden.
“We’re huge fans of yours! But, um, are you alright? We heard someone crying.”
“Fuck!” Monoma whimpers, struggling to keep his breathing in check as you continue to move, even rolling your palm all over his tip, your other hand going to pull at one of his nipples.
“What was that?”
“N-nothing! I’m fin- ugh~”
“You… sure?”
“YES!”
Monoma yells, back arching as his head touches your shoulder, eyes rolling up this head as he’s torn between pushing back or bucking forwards, feeling his body submerged in such an intense heat, in such shame, in such pathetic desperation to cum, he’s begging you in quick hushed moans to please, pretty please, make him cum, he wants to cum, needs to cum again.
“And your fans?” You whisper teasingly, feeling how he shivers with how close your breath is near his ear.
“Fu-uck my fans-”
“Now now, that’s something you never said before. Did I fuck Monoma Neito out of you?”
And you go back with the brutal pace, not caring if the other two bystanders can hear what’s going on, not caring if they come out traumatized or probably aroused with how obvious it is that their dear Phantom Thief is getting fucked in a shady place, in a nasty place, yet he’s silently wailing and convulsing with everything you’re giving him.
Your hand soon enough gets sticky with what little cum his poor, weak body produced, his hole clenching tightly around your strap-on while his hands fly back to grasp any part of you that he could reach, which ended up being your head.
The bystanders speak again while Monoma’s busy wheezing his gratitude.
“Are you sure you’re alright? We could call the police-”
“I’m alright! ‘m fine~” He managed to sing-song, but if you heard a bit of his whimper seep from the last word, you don’t say anything, simply slow down your stroking before pausing.
You hear their footsteps slowly go back towards where they probably came from, making Monoma let out shaky exhales of relief and satisfaction, small giggles slipping from time to time as you kiss his neck, his cheek, his jawline.
And once you are certain you’re both alone again, you slowly pull out of him, helping him to turn around so that his back presses against the wall.
Until he grimaces.
“My essence is, from my deduction, splattered on this disgusting wall.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you point down to where his pants are, laughing harder when you see how his grimace turns into a face of disgust, horror, shame, surprise, arousal- wait what?
You don’t question the last one, simply letting out the last of your giggles while you search for the disinfectant wipes you tend to carry with you in your utility belt. And once they’ve been found, you make him lick your cum-covered hand first before properly passing a wipe. You hand Monoma one so that he cleans his face if needed, disinfect his hands, his thighs, anywhere he thought he needed to clean.
No, that's a lie. You took care of his thighs and pelvis, trying your best to clean the spots where his cum reached his pants before peppering a few gentle kisses around his exposed skin.
Pulling his briefs and pants up, buttoning, zipping, fasting his belts. You let out a happy sigh, fixing his hair and tie.
You then fix yourself.
“Who’s mommy’s good boy, Monoma?”
He somehow managed to chirp. “I am, mommy.”
“Then, you’ll stop being a bitch tonight, right? Mommy made sure to fuck it out of you.”
“Oh, um,” aw, he’s blushing. “I suppose…”
When you both walk away from the much-more defiled wall, you hold back an amused snort with how Monoma seems too unstable with his feet, how his legs seem to shake with every step he tries to take and how frustrated he looks with how uncooperative his body is.
You decide that chilling and cuddling in that corner wouldn’t be so bad, and considering how your shift ended minutes ago, you doubt either you or Monoma will get into trouble.
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